Disclaimer: All characters, themes etc. pertaining to the Harry Potter books belong to Mrs. Rowling
AN: What can I say? I had an urge to write a Harry Potter fanfic and this is the result. The story takes place during several years. As you'll notice, it starts in Sorcerer's Stone then moves rather rapidly onto Prisoner of Azkaban.
So far this story is only a past-time, written for fun when I've nothing else to do. That might change though, depends on whether you readers like it, and on my schedule, which has a habit of changing when I least expect it. Anyways, I hope you like it and do let me know what you think. Have fun.
Important note on this story: This story is a side-story to the Harry Potter series, but it ties into and is intimately linked with the series. You will find that the situations Faith finds herself in could very well be happening right alongside the events in the book. It might be fun if you keep the appropriate Harry Potter book next to you and follow along in there while you read this fanfic. If you do decide to do just that, and will be keeping a meticulously close eye on how well my fanfic synchs with the Harry Potter story line, remember that I am only human, so I'm sure I'll make a mistake somewhere. Hope you enjoy!
On the first day of public school, Faith had been on the lookout for Harry.
She remembered how happy she had been when she had first heard that Dudley Dursley had been accepted into the private school, Smeltings. Faith's first thoughts after hearing the news had been on Harry and how, for the first time ever, he wouldn't be the prime target for bullies.
Not all of Dudley's old gang had gotten into Smeltings, of course, but Faith figured that without Dudley there, the remainder of the gang going to the public school, Stonewall High, wouldn't bother with Harry.
And if they did, well, Stonewall High was a much bigger place than their previous school, with a lot more places to hide.
Faith had watched Harry all though primary school, but had been too afraid of Dudley to do anything more than watch. She reckoned they could be good friends seeing as how they had a lot in common; she herself had lost both her parents when she was very young and now lived with her aunt.
Faith's aunt, however, unlike the Dursley's with Harry, treated Faith like the daughter she never had. But despite being happy, she was also very lonely.
So, on her first day at Stonewall High, when she was just eleven years old, Faith kept a sharp eye out for a glimpse of untidy black hair, a flash of broken glasses, or a peek of green eyes— to no avail.
She searched and searched and asked over and over but no one seemed to know anything or even seemed to care, so she gave up.
But then, not two years later, just as summer holidays were about to end, she overheard her aunt, who had a group of friends over for tea in the back gardens.
"Did you hear about what happened over at number four, Privet Drive?" asked Faith's aunt, Emma, as she leaned closer to her circle of friends and dropped her voice to a loud whisper.
"Number four, Privet Drive… isn't that the Dursley place?" said a fair-haired woman with curly hair.
Faith had been reading in the living room. The living room's French doors that opened into the back gardens had been opened to let in the cool breeze and Faith could hear every word that the group of friends uttered.
At the mention of the Dursley's, Faith jerked her head up and only just managed not to drop her book. She stared out of the double doors; the women were just out of sight, but their voices were clearly heard.
"Indeed, it is," said Emma.
"No, what happened?" asked a squat elderly woman with graying hair.
"Well, I'm not sure myself, but Gretel Wallace, one of the neighbors, said that Vernon's sister— what's her name… Marge! That's it. Gretel said that Marge had one of her visits. Everything seemed to be going just fine until just last Sunday.
"Gretel said she had been putting the dishes away that evening when a loud ruckus scared her half to death. Dropped and broke a pile of her best china, she did, the poor dear." Emma shook her head in sympathy.
"Oh! I heard about that," said a lean, rosy woman. "I heard Marge had some kind of an 'attack'."
"I'll bet it was a heart attack," said Miss Curly Hair, "what with her being her size and at her age. I think I'll send her a nice basket of health bars, along with a box of healthy, simple-to-make recipes. I'm sure she'll appreciate that."
Emma shrugged her shoulders daintily. "Gretel couldn't be sure, but when she looked out the window to see what was going on, she saw that boy, the nephew, just about running out the door with a great big trunk in tow. She heard Vernon hollering after him to 'put her right', though how the boy could have done anything is anyone's guess. Then a great group of people in long robes arrived and hurried inside and after a while everything went quiet. Gretel figured someone heard the racket and called the medics."
The group went quiet, as they sipped at their tea and took in the news. Faith's mouth had gone dry; this was the first she had heard of Harry in two years and it wasn't good news. Where had he gone? She crossed her fingers and hoped one of the women would ask about 'the boy'. Her prayer was answered by the elderly woman with graying hair. Faith could have kissed her.
Mrs. Grey Hair set her cup down. "That boy, the nephew, I don't imagine any of you know much about him?"
"He's a strange one, he is," said Miss Curly Hair. "I've seen him walking around, never says much, keeps to hisself."
Emma sighed sadly. "The poor, poor darling. Losing his parents at such a young age and then being sent to the Dursley's! Imagine that. I've seen how they treat him, like he's trash. And have you seen the clothes he wears? I would bet my begonias that they're that great oaf-of-a-son Dudley's left-overs."
The lean, rosy woman lifted a finger at Emma. "I think you've a blind eye to him on account of his being an orphan. You've a soft spot for orphans, though goodness knows that's no fault. But Arabella Figg herself heard it from Marge's very own mouth that that boy, Harry's his name; he goes to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys!"
There was a collective gasp from all around, including Faith. The book dropped from her fingers, though luckily no one heard it.
"C-certainly you're mistaken?" stammered Emma.
"I am not," said Mrs. Rosy. "Arabella was his baby-sitter. She never said anything against the boy, of course, but I know better. That boy is a bad 'un and its mighty kind of the Dursley's to have taken him in, I say. Why, who's to say he didn't poison Marge himself, or some other such thing? I certainly wouldn't put it past him."
Faith had gotten to her feet and was glaring at the wall, on the other side of which was where Mrs. Rosy was sitting. She wanted to defend Harry, but as soon as she let them know she had been eavesdropping, the conversation would be over, and Faith needed all the information she could get.
"Oh, don't say such an awful thing!" exclaimed Emma. "He's only a child. He's only thirteen!"
Mrs. Rosy sounded pleased that she had so roused the women's emotions. "I'm only saying that one can't ever be too careful. It's always the one's you least expect who turn bad."
"And speaking of 'bad' people… what of that Sirius Black! He's as bad as one can get. I only hope they catch him soon, because I'm not getting a wink of sleep at night, thinking he's going to burst in at any second and kill me dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Grey Hair tremulously.
"Ooh, I know just what you mean!" said Miss. Curly Hair. "I sleep with a metal ladle under my pillow!"
Faith, sensing that she had gotten all she was going to get about Harry, silently picked up her book and made her way to her room.
Once there she picked up her pack and slung it over her shoulder. In the kitchen she wrote a note to her aunt saying she was going to the library, stuck it on the refrigerator with a magnet and went out the front door.