Mask

Disclaimer-As always, the only character I own is Samantha. The rest are the property of their respective owners.

AN-Wow…another chapter. This is the longest one yet, though the last few paragraphs could be better in my opinion, due to the fact that it is almost midnight where I am. I couldn’t sleep without getting this out, so I hope that you enjoy the finished product! As always, please please please Read and Review!

And I’d also like to thank XTahliaX without whom this chapter wouldn’t exist at all, she gave me the framework for the Golden Trio’s conversation, as well as being a sounding board for everything that goes into the story. Thanks Tahlia, you rock!!!!


~*~*~*~
“Are people born Wicked? Or do they have Wickedness thrust upon them?” Glinda “No one Mourns the Wicked” Wicked the Musical’
~*~*~*~
Run-ins and Misconceptions

Molly Weasley prided herself on being a good mother. She had raised six children, all of them growing up strong and good, staunch followers of the Light. She would do anything for her children, up to and including casting the Unforgivables on anyone who tried to harm them. Nothing was considered too extreme when it came to her children.

Not even this. The redheaded witch looked at Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive in her opinion, and merely nodded. If this was what it took to keep her children safe, she would do it.

Her children would be safe, no matter what it took.

~*~*~*~

Samantha stumbled as she released the Portkey, but miraculously managed to land on her feet, though a bit shaken. Dropping her bag, she looked around herself curiously, taking in the shabby yet homey room around her.

It made her nauseous.

In the two months since her family’s death and her subsequent move to England to meet a father that she thought was dead, she had found herself no closer to accepting the fact that she was the only female Halliwell in existence.

Given the Halliwell Legacy, that was a daunting fact.

“Hello?” Samantha said, nerves beginning to take her over. That Dumbledore guy had said that someone would be at the house when she arrived, but that person had yet to show. Considering why she was there, Samantha considered that pretty rude. “Hello?!” She called again, stepping farther into the room. Huffing at the lack of attention her arrival had received, she turned her attention to the room around her, and finding out more about the family that lived there…

Her family apparently. Pictures, moving pictures she noted absently, were lined up on the mantle, all of them showing the same family of redheads in various situations: flying on brooms, gathered around a dinner table, and other family related activities. The pictures reminded her sharply of the ones that used to stand on the mantle at the Manor, and in her apartment. Leo had kept all of the family mementos until she got settled in England, but she highly doubted that she would be able to put them out in this house. She got the feeling that this was a family house, and she wasn’t completely family.

She was just one of the father’s, her father’s, by-blows from a fight that his wife and he had had.

She was a bastard.

She pushed those thoughts away, and moved away from the pictures. It wouldn’t do to start crying again, not when she was going to meet her father for the first time, something that she had never thought she would have the chance to do. Her mother being who she was, there was never any lack of males in Samantha’s life, some of them staying longer than others, and she had had Uncle Leo, but that wasn’t the same thing as having someone who shared her blood….and who maybe would have understood some of the thoughts that she had. The only one that ever could was Cole Turner…and he had turned out to be a demon.

Samantha often wondered what that said about her, that a demon could understand her feelings that her mother, a White Witch, couldn’t.

“Samantha?” The girl whirled around at the voice, coming face to face with the family that had been in all the pictures. The man that was her father came towards her with outstretched his arms, and all she could think about as she was being hugged and introduced to her new family was that hey looked nothing alike.

Her mother always said that she and her father looked alike.

They didn’t look alike.

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Two Weeks Later

“So what’s your new sister like?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione were barricaded in Ron and Harry’s room at Grimmauld place the first night the Weasley’s were back. The other two had wasted no time in quizzing Ron on the new member of his family, as she and Ginny had been sent off to bed as soon as they had arrived, Ginny complaining all the way.

“Come Ronald, there must be SOMETHING that you can tell us!” Hermione huffed in annoyance, typically not giving Ron a chance to answer before she began berating him..

“I don’t bloody know, she doesn’t look like dad.” Hermione rolled her eyes at his answer and opened her mouth to lash out as she was prone to do, but Harry cut her off.

“Where does she come from?” Ron gave him a grateful look and a grin.

“Some place in America, mother was a witch of some sort, something called Wiccan. Mom wouldn’t tell us anything about it and she’s stayed locked in her room most of the time. She won’t even talk to Ginny.” Due to limited space in The Burrow, Ginny and Samantha had been forced to share a room, something that neither girl was happy about. They had taken an immediate dislike to one another, and having them share a room was like putting two fighting cats inside a burlap bag, just made a smaller space to fight in.

Molly had not been happy when a family heirloom in the room had blown up, though neither girl was forthcoming on how it had happened.

“Wiccan? She’s part Wiccan?” Hermione asked shocked. She remembered reading about Wiccan when she had been accepted at Hogwarts, thinking that it was the kind of magic studied. It had not been, but she still found herself fascinated by the subject.

“What’s Wiccan?” Ron asked

“A believer or follower of Wicca, a type of Witchcraft consisting of benevolent practices derived from Christian religions. Which means she’s….odd. AND a yank…Perfect!” Hermione scowled at the thought. She might want to find out more about the practices of the Wiccan religion, but she in no way wanted to share Harry and Ron’s attention, which she knew would happen. Ron and the Weasley’s were very family oriented and Harry as well, due to the conditions that he had grown up in. Hermione was sure to be shunted to the side in favor of the newest Weasley.

She wasn’t happy about that.

“I don’t get it how’s she your sister?” Harry asked confused about the whole situation. From what he knew of the Weasley’s, they were very familial, and Arthur and Molly were wholly devoted to each other. It was just…odd….that some girl had been brought to Arthur and set as his daughter. But Dumbledore, from what he had gleaned, knew of the situation and was in full agreement with the ministry’s findings. Which meant that something had happened between Molly and Arthur.

“I dunno, Mom said something about dad and affair. Bloody odd if you ask me” Ron seemed even more confused by the situation than Harry did. “I can’t remember any fight that Mum and Dad have had, especially not one where Dad went to America!”

“Ronald you have to know more about her! Where did she attend school?” Hermione pressed, ignoring the fact that her friend had had a substantial bit of knowledge about his family uprooted and tossed about, in favor of finding more out about the girl that she considered a rival. It wouldn’t do to go into a situation unprepared, and being prepared meant knowing every detail about the girl that she could. She would not lose the only two friends that she had made in her life to some little Yank.

“I don’t know Hermione; I’ll go ask her will that help?” Ron replied frustrated. He didn’t know why Hermione was so interested in the girl. From what he had seen, Samantha was nothing like the rest of the Weasley siblings, though she got on decently with Bill and Charlie. He didn’t see why He, Harry, and Mione would have much interaction with her during the school year, even if she was a Gryffindor!

“She’s a witch, from America, your sister and we don’t know anything about her, doesn’t that strike you as weird?” Harry asked, confused. Surely Mr. Weasley had told his other children SOMETHING about his other daughter. Unless……

“ODD, of course it bloody does!” Ron replied shaking his head. “But, it’s not as if Dad KNEW about her. Apparently it was a one-night deal, and her mum and aunts died so they searched her bloodline and she got sent here. Dad just found out about her himself.”They continued talking idly about Ron’s sister, none of them knowing that they had an audience.

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Samantha stood irately outside the door, listening to the conversation that was going on inside with rage growing inside her. HOW DARE THEY?! She wasn’t some science experiment to be talked about and analyzed! Her mother had just died, and all they seemed worried about was the fact that that she had shown up and ruined their perfect family image! She growled lowly and gritted her teeth

Her brain knew that her rage was unwarranted, after all her brother was just talking to his friends about a new situation, something she would have done with her friends back at Mulligan Prep, but her emotions had never been the most stable, and her mother’s death had thrown them off even more. She flexed her hands without thinking, trying to get her feelings under control, and then winced, knowing that that had been a major mistake.

CRACK!

A vase that had been sitting on an end table at the end of the hallway shattered into a million pieces, falling onto the ground. She closed her eyes and began breathing deeply, trying to reign in her raging emotions. Aunt Piper had been teaching her the control part of her powers (along with some of the better potions),but due to her death Samantha was still widely uncontrolled with her magic.

She had the feeling that that fact was going to cause problems in the near future, especially if she couldn’t get her emotions to calm down.

While she was lost in her slightly melancholy thoughts, a hand landed on her shoulder and she spun, bringing her hands up in defense. She didn’t blow him up or freeze him, even though she had no idea who he was. She was willing to trust what her so-called Father said about no one in the house wanting to hurt her, but she was ready with her magic if this man proved to be the exception to that statement. With the way she was feeling, it was likely that any move he made was going to be seen as dangerous.

“Woah! I’m not gonna hurt ya kid.” She almost laughed. No matter that he looked old enough to be her father, he sounded like he was her age. This was definitely a boy that had never grown up. He grinned at her, further enforcing the idea that he was just a big kid, and she slowly lowered her hands. Her father (it was still odd to be thinking that) had informed her that she was safe in this place, as long as she stayed in the rooms that had been cleaned. She wasn’t sure if she completely believed him, but she was willing to put out a little faith. The situation could be re-evaluated if something happened.

“Hmmm, not sure of that. And don’t call me kid!” Only one person had the right to call her kid, and this most definitely was NOT him. The man in front of her grinned again, something he seemed to do often.

“Alright, I won’t call you kid.” Samantha had the feeling that she had not heard the last of the nickname thing from this guy…who she still didn’t know the name of.

“Good, great, grand even. But, who the hell are you?” Sam knew that she was being rude, and if her mother had been there she would have gotten a strong smack upside the head, but at that moment in time she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was tired, in more ways than one. He laughed.

“I like you! And the Name’s Sirius Black.” He put out a hand for her to shake, though he didn’t seem to expect her to take it, and she took it, surprising him. “Don’t you know who I am?” She smiled and nodded.

“Yep, escaped criminal and murderer…at least that’s what was on the news back home. Personally, I don’t care, as long as you don’t’ try to kill me.” She grinned at him, surprised at herself. “And the name’s Samantha Halliwell, well, I suppose its supposed to be Weasley. Haven’t gotten used to that yet." He smiled even wider at her.

“You’re Arthur’s newest, right?” She nodded, and tried to suppress a yawn, causing him to grin even harder. (She was beginning to think that all he ever did was grin.) “You better get to bed, wouldn’t want your father to skin me.” She nodded and started to move around him, heading back towards the room that she was sharing with her sister and Ron’s friend Herm-something. She was almost away from him, when he called down the hall to her. “I’ll see you around…Sammie.” She scowled at him as he walked away laughing.

Why was she letting him bother her so much? Deciding that pondering it was better left to another day, she crawled into bed with a tired sigh, ready for another night of sleep.

Hopefully this time she wouldn’t dream.