Into the Snakes Pit

Ch. 1

Blair Johnson was a simple girl who lived her life mostly as a solitary being. Her mother had died when she was young, and her father, a diplomat, was gone for long stretches of time abroad. Blair had a few acquaintances at school but when at home, she preferred the company of books to people. Her favorites were the works by Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and of course J.K. Rowling. They kept her company especially during the time that her own body began to turn on itself.

When Blair was just 15 years old, she was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. Her father tried to stay with her and be supportive but the pain of watching his beloved baby girl slowly waste away was too much for the man. Blair understood and although it hurt, she forgave her father for leaving her to her illness. On August 1st, 2007 Blair Johnson lost her battle and died alone in her hospital room clutching the Deathly Hallows book in her arms wishing that she had had a chance to do some good in the world.

When Blair woke up, she was no longer surrounded by hospital equipment or hooked up to the many monitors that she had become accustomed to. Instead, she was wrapped in a soft blanket and found herself in what looked like a giant crib. 

As the teen tried to wrap her head around what was happening, a young woman no older than 25 came into view. She had deep auburn hair, soft grey-blue eyes, and a warm, gentle smile. 

Blair’s body reacted without thinking, reaching for the woman. It was when the woman moved to pick her up that Blair felt the puzzle pieces fall into place. She was a baby. This was her room. This was her mother. But Blair’s mother had died when she was a day old, who was this woman, who was Blair? As the teenager turned baby began to fidget in the large woman’s arms, her new mother whispered sweet nothings to her trying to calm her down.

“Don’t you worry sweetheart, mummy’s got you. Mummy will always be here my dear little star.” She whispered, rocking Blair back and forth. 

Reluctantly and with too many questions left unanswered, Blair drifted off to the realm of dreams.

When she awoke again it was due to an uncomfortable wetness in her pants. Blair immediately felt a hot wash of shame come over her as she realized what happened. She began to cry uncontrollably, which just added to her embarrassment as she heard loud footsteps coming her way. 

This time the figure was a man about the same age as the woman-her new mother apparently- but had distinctly different features. Where the woman-Mom- had hair the color of the sunset and eyes the color of the noonday sky, he had light mousy brown hair and green eyes that reminded Blair of a meadow in the spring. She liked the color, it made her feel safe and calm. She observed the man more as he changed her diaper all the while talking to her in a soft deep timber. She felt her eyes begin to itch as she continued to study her new father.

“There we go, my sweet girl. That’s dada’s little girl. Mummy has her family over so once we get you all cleaned up we can go see Gran-” The man- Dad- broke off his thought with a gasp.  

“Aquila! Aquila get in here!”

Two pairs of footsteps could be heard rushing through the house. Soon the door to her nursery was thrown open startling Blair causing her to cry out in alarm. Two women rushed in. One was the one from before- Mom- and the other seemed to be a relation as she was older but had the similar coloring of her hair and eyes. Both were holding something out in front of them. Were those sticks?

No, those looked like the wands she used to see being sold by different craftsmen at Renaissance faires. Something stirred in her gut at the sight of the two women brandishing the wooden objects like weapons. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

“Hollin! What’s wrong? What happened?” the younger woman-Mom- asked frantically looking about. The older woman did the same with a stern look on her face before lowering her wand.

“Explain yourself, young man. Whatever did you yell for my Aquila for?” the older woman-Grandmother?–pressed Hollin-Dad.

Her new father stammered, “Her-well- it was- her eyes are green!” he finally pushed out in an exclamation. Gently picking Blair up, he brought her towards the two women. 

Aquila, her new mom, reached for her and examined her eyes with a gasp. As she looked into the young mother’s eyes she felt the itching return and was startled by another gasp from both her new parents and grandmother. The older woman began pacing the room while her mom began to ask questions.

“Is this just a case of accidental magic or is this something more mother? Because if I remember correctly, accidental magic isn’t normally as subtle as this.” Aquila asked the woman.

Hollin turned to the younger woman, “Accidental magic? But she’s not even a year old yet! How will she control it?” he asked frantically worried for his daughter.

“No, Aquilla is correct, this does not have the markings of accidental magic. Hollin, run and grab the photo album from Hogwarts, there is something I wish to try, then I will know for sure what is going on.” The woman ordered while settling herself into the plush rocking chair in the corner.

“Mother? Why do you need our album? What does that have to do with Astraea?” her mother asked, finally letting Blair know her new name.

It was odd. Hearing herself be referred to as an entirely new name but it sounded old, and fancy. The most unbelievable thing however was trying to wrap her head around the idea that she has somehow reincarnated into not just a world where magic exists, but the world of Harry Potter himself! Not to mention her own parents had attended Hogwarts, probably her grandmother as well!

Blair, no Astraea now, was jostled from her thoughts as she was passed to the older woman who now held both her unsettlingly small form and a photo album with the Hogwarts crest on the outer cover. 

Grandmother flipped it open to the first page and there was her mother with two young boys who barely came up to her shoulders. They were twins, both with wild red hair and mischievous blue eyes. All three were in the Hogwarts uniform, the twins in matching Gryffindor robes while her mother wore her own Ravenclaw robes just as proudly. All three were smiling and waving to the camera.

As she looked at the moving picture of the two boys she felt both her eyes and her scalp itch as she tried to place why they looked so familiar.They weren’t Fred and George simply because there had been no mention of an older Weasley girl in Ravenclaw and the Weasley twins had brown eyes. The adults around her gave a startled gasp jolting her out of her thoughts once more.

She looked up to find her parents staring at her with a strange look of wonder bordering on awe. She looked at her father and began to grab for him once again feeling the itch along her scalp and eyes. It was lessening each time it happened though so Blair-Astraea didn’t necessarily mind it.

As she was being picked up she caught herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. One second, she was a small baby girl with red hair and blue eyes like the twins in the picture, the next she was the spitting image of her father with mousy brown hair and eyes green as grass.

‘How did that happen!’ she thought frantically. She turned to listen to her grandmother before she had an aneurysm trying to wrap her head around what was happening to her.

“I believe that little Astraea here may be a Metamorphmagus.” Her grandmother announced. Aquila gasped in shock and Hollin asked for clarification.

“I’ve heard tales of Metamorphmagus but they are so rare, how can we be sure that Astraea is one?” her father asked concerned looking down at his daughter who now looked like a carbon copy of him when he was a child.

“You have nothing to fear my dear boy, it is a magical trait that runs in the family. There have been records of those who trace their ancestry back to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black to develop such extraordinary magic. It will bring great honor to the Prewett family name to record one in the family tree. It may even be enough for your cousins to start talking to you beyond simple formalities Aquila.” She comments earning a scoff from mom.

“If the Blacks didn’t wish to speak to me after I married the man I love and not one to gain more political power, I certainly don’t want them trying to tie Astraea to one of their ‘ideal matches’ thank you very much.” The young woman looked from her small, defenseless child to her husband who was much too kind for the harsh political world she had endured since childhood. Her grey eyes hardened. 

“No, we do not need their scheming around Astraea as she grows up, especially now that we know what she is. The Prewett family will be all the love that she needs.” Amelia stated hugging both members of the small family she had made.

The flood of information that Astraea received was very helpful but it took longer than she would have liked to sort through it all and even longer still to come to terms with it. First, she somehow was reborn into the world of Harry Potter, second, her mother is a witch from the Prewett family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and third, she is a Metamorphmagus. What are the odds?

She tuned out what the adults were saying in her elation. This was the best day ever and would probably only be matched with the day that she got her wand and her sorting. She would be going to Hogwarts if it’s the last thing she does.

When she came back to the conversation, it seemed that her parents and grandmother were talking more about the logistics of raising a Metamorphmagus. But Astraea wanted to test her abilities. She wasn’t about to try the animal transformations just yet, she would leave those until she was older, but she really wanted to play with her hair and eye color.  As she could still see herself in the mirror it seemed a perfect time as any to try it out.

She concentrated on her eyes first willing them to shift them from the green to a warm amber and her hair from its mousy brown to a teal blue. 

She now knew what Teddy Lupin must have looked like as a child.  She kept playing with her new-found gift while her family cooed over her. The calming timber of the voices soothed the child and she fell asleep in her father’s arms.

For the most part, Astraea’s childhood was a perfect one. She had a loving and attentive family, but she was sheltered from the world until she learned to control her Metamorphmagus powers. She understood why and relished the time that her mother and father spent teaching her lessons. 

Mum and Dad homeschooled her until her powers were deemed under control. It was new to her to have such a close family as in her previous life she only had a loving but absent father to call her own. Hollin Reid and Aquila Prewett were the best parents any child could hope for, she quickly decided. Aquila taught her how the ways of the pure-blood world she would be forced into while Hollin taught her his innate compassion and kindness for all creatures.

It wasn’t until she was old enough to learn the date that Astraea felt the true weight of her situation. She had gained a loving family and a life in a magical world but, everything comes with a price.  In her case, the exchange was something she did not know if she wanted to pay. 

It was the year 1964 and she was four years old when she realized that she was about to be thrown headfirst into the war that would take away her beloved uncles, Gideon and Fabian, along with many more innocent lives. The First Wizarding War would begin in a mere 6 years. 

She spent the entire night laying in her bed trying to think of how to get through the war with her small family intact until she stumbled upon an idea. It was a stupid, reckless dangerous idea, but one that might just work if she was careful.

If what she knew was correct, she would be attending Hogwarts around the same time as the Marauders, Snape, Lily, and Regulus. All she had to do was play her cards right and she would be able to not just end the war but save the hundreds of lives that would be lost in the second one.

She always wanted to do something with her life, it seems Death has given her a chance to do so after all.