I do not own Harry Potter. All rights go to J. K. Rowling as well as Warner brothers (For the movie rights). This is my first foray into the realm of original characters so bear with me on that as well as my lack of knowledge of UK relevant things. I am after all, sadly, American. One last thing, I'm not the biggest Harry Potter fan in the world. Don't get me wrong, I adored the books from the minute I began reading them, but it's never been an obsession or anything like that. That being said, I will do my best stay true to the HP universe, but if I do screw things up, lemme know (Politely).

Daughter of Darkness

Chapter one

Lyra Morgana Black was always a bit, well, strange, even as a baby. She was born to Bellatrix LeStrange and a man that the witch refused to name on the night of May the tenth, nineteen eighty. She very rarely cried as an infant, and she was born with a very peculiar talent, one that would never be fully realized until years later. Her hair, which had been a dark brown at birth, went black the moment the girl opened her eyes, perfectly matching Bellatrix's own dark hair. Occasionally, even her eyes would change color.

Bellatrix was so excited that her beloved daughter was a metamorph. She had wished that someday there might be a way to reconnect, secretly, with her sister who had been expelled from the Black family several years ago. This was the perfect opportunity. Andi's little girl could teach Lyra how to control her powers while she and Andi reconnected. It was perfect.

Those dreams died though, the day that Lyra was taken, never to be found.

Bellatrix went mad with grief, her wails echoing through the manor as the evidence pointed to Lyra being kidnapped for ransom, and she swore to find the culprit or burn the world trying.

To accomplish this, she fell deeper into the darkness that had taken residence in Mafoy manor, swearing herself to Lord Voldemort in exchange for him helping her find her daughter. She did everything he asked of since she thought he was helping her, even using the Cruciatus curse on two aurors who were thought to maybe know what happened the night Lyra was taken.

The only mistake the kidnapper made, was leaving a small locket, hidden in the girl's nighty, custom made by Bellatrix herself with help secretly given by her sister Narcissa. The Black family crest sat prominently in the middle a pace of pride as it should be.

Isabella 'Izzy' Verona grew up in an orphanage all her life, never knowing the truth of where she came from, only that she was left on the steps of the orphanage with a locket that held a strange crest on the front, on the inside; a picture containing a woman she assumed was her mother. She wasn't facing the camera, unfortunately.

She was an adorable baby, quiet, pleasant, loved to laugh and have fun; everything prospective parents looking to adopt would want. Only they never did.

Something about the girl always struck a nerve with hopeful parents. They took her in, fostered her of course, but they never adopted her. They all had different complaints about the girl, varying from too quiet, not affectionate enough, or too strange. They noted several times that she would stare for hours out the bedroom window with her piercing reddish-brown eyes at the other children, but never interact with them.

There were several homes, terrible horrible homes that Izzy never talked about. The evidence that bad things happened in those houses left their mark on her though.

In her mind, what did it matter what those people did to her? Her own parents had thrown her away because they knew how weird she would be and decided it wasn't worth it. Even from a young age she knew she was different. That there was something powerful inside her and the other children could somehow sense it. They shunned her, called her mean names, and sometimes became physical with her.

She never let it bother her outwardly though, always trying to be nice and standing up to bullies despite the world trying to beat her down. She helped the caretakers of the orphanage during viewing days, setting up, cleaning the rooms, and giving tours and introducing other kids.

As she grew older, her body did as well. She was tall for her age but also thin, a concern for the caretakers early on, with wild curly black hair and pale skin. She knew she was different; she could feel it. Sometimes it felt like her body was ready to burst at the seams, other times she felt smaller than normal. It never made sense to her. She didn't feel comfortable in her own skin most days.

At the age of ten, exactly on her birthday, she finally couldn't take anymore.

"Happy birthday, Izzy!" Two of her usual bullies shouted, punching her and giving her a dead arm. She rubbed at the spot with tears threatening to fall but never allowing them to. She got out of bed with a sigh and slipped on her worn out socks that were full of holes.

She trudged down the hallway, knowing that this was something that would happen one way or another. If she showed up, the caretakers would look for her and make a big fuss while the kids ate the cake and didn't save any for her. If she did show up, the caretakers would still make a big fuss.

The only upside to the latter option was that she would get cake.

Entering the main dining area, which was a small room with a folding table and over a dozen plastic chairs, she saw the kids all gathered around it with her usual bullies gathered at the head.

But no caretakers.

"Where are Matilda and Maive?" Izzy asked calmly, although internally she was growing increasingly worried. She wasn't worried for her, it was just that when people were mean to her, sometimes bad things would happen. Nothing terrible, though. For Example, Paris, her oldest bully, would shove her out of the way in the hallway and sometimes down the stairs. Before the older girl would get out the door, her shoelaces would be tied together, and she'd fall as well.

Things of that nature.

So when she saw a birthday cake, all of the kids including the young ones, gathered around it and her two bullies wearing sickly sweet grins, she was worried for everyone else.

She got up to the table and hopped into her seat begrudgingly.

"Oh, Matilda and Maive had to step out for a little bit, but they told us to have your birthday party anyway," Paris spoke.

"Go head, blow out your candles and we'll begin," Veronica said. Isabella sighed and did as she was told, getting up on her knees on the seat and leaning forward. She blew out the candles one by one, noticing as Paris and Veronica's smiles got increasingly bigger in anticipation as they watched Izzy's scarred face, from the corner of her eye all the way down to the back of her jaw, expand as she sucked in air. She blew until she hit a small candle that once extinguished, triggered a one second timer that started a device hidden inside the cake.

Pari and Veronica had overdone it, intending to scare young Izzy with an exploding birthday cake, but they miscalculated the size of the device and how far away Izzy was away from the cake. The small device inside the cake exploded, sending pieces of the cake all over the walls, the table, the kids, everywhere.

Izzy never saw all that though.

Paris and Veronica looked over to see one of the younger girls holding her eye, screaming bloody murder. The little girl happened to be one that Izzy liked and liked her back, her only friend.

Izzy acted on instinct, the thing inside her furious at what had been done. She pulled on the raw energy and unleashed her anger. The candles relit and engulfed the walls they had been launched towards in a blaze, burning everything. The kids screamed and ran for the door, barely making it out as smoke billowed from the orphanage. Izzy followed them, collapsing on the front steps in the exact spot she had been left almost a decade ago.

When Izzy woke up, she couldn't see because smoke had gotten in her eyes, but she could hear hushed whispers outside the door.

"…Started the fire…."

"….Bella needs to be sent…."

"…Can't deny something's different…"

"…Swear they saw her eyes turn red…"

"….Separated from the other children…."

Izzy closed her eyes and allowed herself to cry in silence. She didn't mean to do these things, didn't mean for bad things to happen. They just did. She had heard a few weeks ago Paris telling Veronica that Izzy was probably cursed for doing something terrible in a past life.

Was that it? Was she cursed?

Well it didn't matter. Cursed or not, Izzy had already decided that she was going to run away. Just like Peter Ashford did a year ago. But how?

Turns out that running away wasn't that hard as an orphan. The caretakers were so busy taking care of the little kids, because of the minor smoke inhalation that four of them had, that they barely noticed when Izzy slipped out the front door a week after the fire incident. But not before she made sure her bullies paid for what they did to her friend and herself over the years.

Those first three months were some of the hardest in young Izzy's life. She was constantly avoiding the authorities, sleeping in different alley's, and even dodging people who tried to do bad things to her on several occasions. She never went anywhere anymore without the switchblade knife she carried in her back pocket after the first incident, managing to seriously hurt another man in the second. She stayed in an abandoned apartment complex with other homeless people on the edge of London, sleeping in a thin sheet with her jean jacket pulled into her body. She dressed practically, since, after all, there were no foster parents she had to impress anymore.

She wandered the streets and did odd jobs, running messages between businesses every now and again for a few coins if they were generous.

She traveled at night, never during the day, so that it would be less suspicious. A kid out during the day when they should be in school? Fastest way to get caught for sure.

Her dark pants and boots, combined with her jean jacket and hoodie, allowed her to travel freely and blend in with the darkness of London.

As time went on, she grew a little bit taller and her hair grew longer, but the most intriguing change, was that the thing inside her grew with her. She could control it to a degree, allowing her to protect herself better. She used her strange powers sometimes if she needed something, like food and water, to get those items, even if she hated herself for stealing.

It was only to survive, she'd tell herself, only what was necessary. No more, no less.

And that rule applied to dealing with unsavory folk from time to time.

She'd been on the street for, she supposed about a year, before she saw the strangest thing.

Izzy was walking down the street before swiftly ducking into an alley way. She was being followed and she knew it, had sensed the man about a half mile back. The alley she ducked into was well known to her, having used it many times to escape authorities, she was confident this would be no exception. What she wasn't counting on, was an older woman appearing on the other end of the alley. She couldn't stop now, maybe this other woman would even help her.

"Isabella Verona!" The man behind her called. She stopped dead in her tracks, knowing full well nobody on the street should know of her full name.

"Relax, we just want to talk with you," The woman, Scottish judging by her accent, said.

She heard the man behind her get closer as her heart beat faster. She waited until he was close enough before pulling her knife and pointing it at the man.

"Stay back! I know how to use this!" She shouted. She held tightly onto the handle of the knife until it suddenly went limp in her hands. She stared at the now piece of wilting licorice in her hand with wide eyes.

'No!' she thought. Her strange power had never turned on her before!

"Please relax Miss Verona," The Scottish woman said gently. Izzy put her back to the alley wall and wished with all her might to just go through the wall. It didn't happen unfortunately, and she was trapped in an alley with a tall Scottish woman and a so far silent but imposing man with dark robes and greasy black hair.

"Please j-Just take what you wa-want!" Izzy stuttered.

"We don't want to hurt you, young lady!" The woman said loudly, shaking Izzy out of her fear. "We want to help you," She said gently.

"Help me?" Izzy asked, confusion clear on her face. She couldn't comprehend why anyone would want to help her.

"Yes. You've been doing strange things for a while now, have you not?" The man asked, peering at her over his nose. Izzy nodded hesitantly and pushed the hair out of her face.

"You one a' those government types then?" Izzy asked.

"No. But we do represent a place, a culture that knows all about what you can do and teach you how to control the gift you were born with," The woman said.

"What even is this gift?" Izzy asked.

"Magic," The woman whispered, and amused twinkle in her eye as she watched the young girls expression come alive.

"How do I learn?" She asked seriously a moment later.

"Through school of course!" The woman said. Izzy's expression fell at the news. She shook her head and looked at the woman with a blank face.

"Then I apologize, I won't be able to afford any kind of schooling, much less anything related to school," Izzy said. The woman frowned an held out her hand.

"Nonsense," She said as Izzy gently placed her hand down in the woman's. "The Ministry of Magic is aware of your situation and has set aside funds to aide you as well as set you up with an appointed aide to teach you everything you need to know about our world," The woman explained.

"What do they want from me?" Izzy asked calmly, inwardly preparing for some answer like 'they want you for some nefarious plot or something.'

"I don't understand what you mean?" The woman asked.

"Well, it's just, nobody ever really helps without expecting something in return," Izzy explained. Both adults frowned at her response.

"Well this is different, Miss Verona. The Ministry knows that sometimes things are out of the hands of children and set up a fund a century ago for the orphans who are magically gifted," The woman explained.

"Oh. How do you know my name?" Issy asked suddenly.

"We know a lot of things," The man said.

"Do you know who my parents are?" Izzy asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, dear," The woman said, glaring at the man because she knew that he would've given a cold and blunt 'no.'

"Who are you, anyways?" Izzy asked.

"My name is Minerva Mcgonogall and this is my associate, Severus Snape. We'll be your professors at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry," Minerva said proudly. Izzy looked at her and nodded before following the two adults out of the alley. As she was walking out, she felt her knife in her pocket, as solid as it was when she first got it.

It had been a surprise, a welcome one, when Professor Mcgonogall revealed that she was Izzy's appointed teacher in all things magical, both in and out of the classroom. Apparently, it was at the request of the headmaster who Izzy would meet at the sorting feast. When Izzy asked what that was, the kind professor simply gave a smile. For the next two days after that, Izzy lived with the professor in her home

Izzy didn't know what to make of Minerva as she led her through Diagon Alley. The woman explained everything after the man, Snape, had gone back to Hogwarts and left the girl and Minerva's to take care of anything Izzy needed

"I can't thank you enough for this, Professor," Izzy murmured as they went into their third shop on the magical street. The older woman stopped and took Izzy to the side, out of the way of bustling wizards, witches, and muggles who were doing their best to help their children.

"Izzy, there is nothing to thank me for. I can already tell that you have a smart head on your shoulders," Minerva said.

"But-"

"There's no but's here, Miss Verona. If it's repayment you're still worried about, repay Hogwarts by being the best student you can be. Study, work hard, make friends, and leave Hogwarts a better person than you were going in," Minerva said. Izzy sniffled a little, touched that someone believed in her, gave her a chance.

"I think," Minerva started off innocently, "that it's time we find you your wand."

Izzy followed behind the older woman excitedly, unable to contain or even really express the things she was feeling. For so long she had dreamed of doing something like this, going around to shops willy-nilly and just exploring, letting the day take them where it may.

Soon enough, they stood outside a worn building.

"Olivanders: maker of fine wands since 382 B.C"

Izzy did a double take to the amusement of Minerva as she took in the date on the sign.

"That's crazy!" Izzy whispered in shock. Minerva ushered the girl inside where Olivander saw them immediately.

"Ah! Minerva, so good to see you! A pupil of yours, I suppose?" Olivander expectantly asked, amusement shining in his eyes.

"Yes. This is Isabella Verona," Minerva said. The girl gave a shy wave as she took in the slightly unkempt look of the man. "She'll be with us under the ministries orphan program so don't worry about trying to find a wand that might work on a budget," Minerva murmured. Olivander gave an understanding smile with a nod, kindly taking Izzy by the hand and explaining everything he was doing with her for her benefit. He measured everything; from her head size, arm length, height, and even finger length before running to the back.

The first two wands didn't go over very well, causing a glass to shatter and strong wind to blow several papers around until Olivander looked at her with a knowing look. He waved a finger at her and smirked before disappearing in the aisle of wands. Izzy looked at her soon to be professor in confusion, maybe hoping for an answer, but the woman simply pointed as Olivander rounded the corner.

"Aspen with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches and slightly yielding flexibility. It also has a quarter inch bend starting at the hilt. A duelists wand," Olivander declared. "Go ahead and give that a wave."

Izzy did as told and waved the wand, lighting a candle sitting on the desk a few feet away. She waved it again and the flame twisted and turned, this way and that, following wherever the wand pointed.

"I think we have a good match," Olivander said with a smile. Izzy continued twisting, manipulating the fire until she lowered the wand so that it rested by her leg. She brought it up again and stared at it with a blank expression until a single tear slipped down her cheek. Both Olivander and Minerva saw it, the latter flicking her eyes towards the back. The older man understood and walked out of the vicinity.

"What's wrong?" Minerva asked, flicking her wand a summoning a stool for her to sit on.

"I'm suddenly scared…and I hate this feeling," Izzy whispered bitterly.

"Why are you scared?" Minerva asked gently, tilting the girls head by the chin to get her to look up.

"I'm afraid that this is all some dream, that I've gotten sick and developed a fever, that I'm going to wake up soon and none of this will have been real…and I so very want this to be," Izzy whispered, swallowing down the emotions that were coursing through her. The older woman sighed at the words.

Minerva had grown up in the muggle world and returned from school every summer until she graduated. She knew how hard it could be for some people who were muggleborn to believe in this, had seen over the years all different kinds of people from all walks of life, how some struggled with finding their place anywhere, only to find there was another place they could belong, but didn't want to risk it.

Young Izzy had been rejected so many times, had been shown kindness before only to have it snatched from her grasp at an age that was important for growth and learning.

"You listen to me Isabella Verona," Minerva said as she pulled the girl into a side hug, feeling the entire time like she was holding the child together, keeping her from breaking. "This is real, if you want it to be. You have magic, and nobody can take that away from you." Minerva did her bet to put as much care and firm reinforcement into her voice as she could. It seemed to work as the girl stopped sniffling, trying to hold onto her tears. She took several deep calming breaths as Minerva rubbed her back.

"Now, I want you to pick up this wand, hold your head up high, and walk out of this store like it's yours. Do you understand?" Minerva encouraged. The girl nodded, clutching the wand in her hand to her chest as she walked to the door. She took one last look at the woman before pushing the heavy door open and walking out.

"You've always had a way with kids," Olivander said as he shuffled around the desk. Minerva smiled.

"How much for this wand?" Minerva asked kindly. Olivander gave a smirk before reaching towards Minerva's open palm and taking four galleons.

"She'll do great things with that wand," He said as Minerva exited the shop.