Diclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the Harry Potter universe J.K. Rowling does. The title "Waking the Witch" is inspired by the Kate Bush song of the same name. I do not own the song either. It can be found on Kate Bush's album The Hounds of Love. The name Rosaleen was inspired by the Neil Jordan film The Company of Wolves. I don't own any of the characters in that film, either! I do, however, own my Rosaleen MacDuff Jasper, who is of no relation or incarnation of Neil Jordan's character in his film.

Waking the Witch

by Leah Pensotti

Chapter One: The True Witch of Salem

Salem, Massachusetts, July of 1692

"Why are you here? What have you done with my parents?" Rosaleen MacDuff felt herself being backed into a dark corner of her family's colonial New England home. The man before her; dark and seductive, traced his finger down her neck. His sharply pointed canines revealed themselves in a wickedly twisted smile.

"We met in the woods two nights ago, remember? Why do you recoil so? You seemed to like me very well then!" His chiseled and perfectly handsome features cut through the shadows and his eyes glowed fiercely.

"That is when I thought you to be a gentleman! Not a creature of the night!" Rosaleen felt her ash-blonde hair sticking to her lips. Her skin glistened in a fearsome sweat. She felt her wand in her apron pocket and closed a frightened grip around it.

"Ah, but you are not what you seem, my love. In your own city, people hunt witches and sentence them to death. If only they knew the truth. Those they kill are innocent and members of one of the most powerful wizarding clans in Scotland live beneath their noses. Yes, I know who you are, Rosaleen MacDuff." The vampire's eyes grew wider and he played with the laces on the front of her plain brown dress.

Rosaleen looked to the window and out at the moon; its pale light giving way to a tousled figure on the floor. Her father's body laid lifelessly and his hand was outstretched and grasping his wand. Rosaleen's full mouth gaped in horror and she felt the acidic taste of grief creep up her throat. Her family had been murdered.

"I knew I was meant to have you, my love. As soon as we met, you radiated with grace, darkness and power whilst hiding behind that innocent and angelic face. You will be mine, Rose. Forever. Think how powerful you will be once you turn." He stroked her neck gently and pulled the shoulder of her dress to reveal pale skin and a hollowed collarbone.

The vampire released a hungry growl at the sight and Rosaleen whipped out her wand and pressed it to his jugular. Tears burned in her green eyes and she pulled her back off the wall. She would not have it!

"You killed my family, you beast! I know curses! Dark ones, at that. Avada-"

The vampire placed a cold hand over her lips and moved her wand away from his neck. Rosaleen felt him in her mind, completely dominating her and pushing her power into submission. He traced a finger along the blue vein that peeked through the pale skin on her neck. The vampire smiled and shook his head; desire shone in his eyes.

"Now, now. Let's not do anything rash or unforgivable. You are very powerful, my little witch. However, I overpower you at the moment. That of course, will change when you turn. You will be more powerful than you could ever imagine." The vampire beared his fangs and plunged them into her bare skin, tasting the sting of the witch's blood as it passed through his too perfect lips.

St. Marina's Monastery in Boston, Massachusetts; July 1996


Rosaleen pulled from her dream frantically and clawed at the sheets of her small bed. She ran her hands through her tangled, long hair and felt her silver chain bracelet catch in the messy mop. The polished piece of green jasper dangled in front of her eyes.

"Old wives tales. The ability to ward off nightmares and terrors in the night, my big toe!" She slipped out of bed cautiously and walked over to her small wall mirror. No reflection could be seen. Rosaleen grumbled knowingly to herself, picked up her wand and mumbled the charm that would allow the mirror to show her in all of her disheveled glory.

After more than 300 years, she should've known better. Rosaleen's hair was still an ashen blond, but now had unruly near-white streaks throughout it. Courtesy of the Puritanical men who captured her in 1801 and tortured her until she lost the urge to willingly feed. Aversion Therapy, as modern muggle medicine would call it. They would tempt her with blood and then expose her to sunlight or would douse her head and hair with Holy Water. The scalding burns would heal, but her hair would forever be stripped in color in some places due to the punishment.

She looked the same as she did before. 304 years ago she was 24 and living in Salem with her mother and father who had immigrated from Scotland just prior to her birth. The MacDuff name, one powerful and renowned, had long died out. However, she carried what she could remember of her father's clan with her, in hopes to keep that small sliver of her family alive.

Rosaleen changed out of her thin nightdress and into a modern, knee-length skirt and a tasteful white blouse. As she tamed her hair with a brush, she heard a small, wizened voice call from behind the door.

"Miss Jasper?"

Rosaleen opened the door to find Father McCarthy hunched over with age and leaning on a cane. He smiled sweetly at her.

"Come in, Father." Rosaleen held open the door and assisted the priest as he hobbled in. He sat on a rickety chair by the boarded up window in her room. Father McCarthy leaned his hands on his cane and raised an eyebrow to her.

"Did you rest well, Rosaleen?"

She shook her head and adverted her eyes to the floor. Rosaleen relived her past every waking moment and in her restless sleep. Anguish, horror and pain were her closest friends; if only she could raise her spirits enough to qualify for melancholy.

"Nightmares of the witch trials again ?" Father McCarthy prompted curiously. She nodded in affirmation and ran her tongue in thought over her long eye teeth. She and her family were the only true magicking folk in the city of Salem at the time of the trials. The people perceived as witches were innocent muggles who died falsely accused of witchcraft. Nineteen were hung, one was pressed to death with stones and nearly twenty more died in prison awaiting trial. This, among other dark things, brought Rosaleen more guilt than possibly imaginable.

"Rose, my dear, Father Hurlaghey brought you to St. Marina's a hundred years ago."

"Almost one hundred and seventy-two years ago, actually." Rosaleen chimed in to correct him.

"Er, yes. Anyhow, you came here and worked for us. For good against evil. You pray on a rosary that scars you to hold it. You are a witch and a vampire, and you have done much in our service. You seek forgiveness from others, but not from yourself. You have battled your grief, pain, and animal instinct all in name for the greater good. The other Fathers and I have come to the conclusion that it is time for you to go. We no longer need you in our service."

"You're throwing me out? Why?" Rosaleen felt anger boil in her belly. What had she done wrong?

"We are not throwing you out, my dear. You are a kind creature, if not a little sad. You have helped us in ways that have us in your debt forever. You were brought here to wake the witch within you once were to battle the vampire that had taken you over. Now others need your help. I have been in correspondence with a certain Albus Dumbledore. He is the headmaster of a school in Britain called Hogwarts." Father McCarthy watched as Rosaleen's eyes grew wide with recognition.

"You've heard of it then?" Rosaleen played with the stone on her bracelet and nodded.

"My father went there as a boy almost four hundred years ago. Tell me Father McCarthy, what does this Dumbledore want with me?" The priest smiled and stood up in a slow way.

"There seems to be darkness brewing. Quite a few bad things happened last month at their Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore heads up an organization that is opposed to the darkness that is threatening. He is sending one of his professors on an assignment and calling it a year of sabbatical. He wants you to come and teach in the professor's stead." Rosaleen looked befuddled and paced a few steps back and forth.

"Me? Teach? Children? What would I teach them?" Rosaleen sounded flustered, not having much experience with children. She often feared that they would be terrified of her.

"You love children, Rosaleen. Don't look so frightened. Dumbledore did not mention what subjects to me, however, this did arrive a few moments ago by owl." Father McCarthy handed her an envelope that was sealed with the Hogwarts crest.

She turned it over carefully and opened it. Rosaleen read it silently to herself as Father McCarthy waited patiently to find out the news. Obviously, this Dumbledore knew all about her; lineage, family, the trials, the torture, the vampirism and her work with the priests in Boston. He wrote that he would explain more upon her arrival to London at The Leaky Cauldron where she would be met by a man named Remus J. Lupin.

"I should leave tonight. They will need me there before dawn, for my own safety. However, I do have that charm that will protect me from the sun." Rosaleen pulled out her trunk and emptied the contents of her closet into it. Father McCarthy smiled and watched as she hurriedly packed and looked intrigued by the prospect of the new adventure.

"So it is urgent then? Will you be apparating this evening? Don't forget that London is five hours ahead. I shouldn't want you to be late. I will send the owl back with your response," Father McCarthy turned to walk away but spun a little clumsily on his heel, "Rosaleen, take this for comfort and know that I am here for you if you every need me."

Rosaleen smiled and reached for the handkerchief that the Father handed to her. As she unwrapped it carefully, she saw that it was his long, rosewood rosary. Her heart dropped a little and then she gave the Father a grin, her hand burning slightly from the object; but she had learned to bear the pain long ago.
A/N: Please Read and Review! I hope to hear from you to let me know how I'm doing. Next up: Rosaleen is off to London and meets Lupin, Dumbledore and McGonagall and learns what exactly the Order of the Phoenix wants with her.