This is a sort of re-writing of the first book and (tentatively) maybe the others.

It's a new year at Hogwarts and everyone is excited to go back to school. The famous trio has just formed and this is their first year but there is a new girl and she has a secret, will history repeat itself from the Marauders Days? See how the Harry Potter story transforms with

Tlain: A New Beginning (Ok yea I suck at openings

but bear with me here)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am sorry to say, but the unique story line and some characters. If I did own everything…. Well then I'd be rich and famous, living in Scotland and going by the pen name of J.K. Rowling…

Disease spreads through the streets like wildfire, especially in Knockturn Alley. It's not even an alley; it's an entire town in the slums of Magical London. This is where Tlain Arcanum can be found, living off the muck and crap that runs in the sewage canal, hiding her secret, always hiding. She had a residence, 281 Westcott Ave; Knockturn Alley. It was a home, of sorts. She had a roof over her head, walls around her, and food, if only once every two days. She lived in this house with several other children, mostly girls, and an old man. The man took care of them; they were given food and the occasional scrap of clothing. The clothes were usually third or fourth hand, second hand was too rich for them. The children didn't know the man's name; they called him Mr. Father but more generally sir because most of the children still remembered their own parents. They had come into the home from the streets, their parents either having been killed for lack of food or disease, or missing. That's what happened these days, even in the calm after Voldemort was cut down by nothing but a babe, people went missing in the slums.

"The place the min'stry don't even know 'bout"

"Don't care ta know. But 'oo would? I know I wouldn't care ta know this place."

"But you'd at least send someone down here to help us wouldn't you? I mean if you were in the min'stry."

"Well yea. 'Course I would. But I don't like this place; I wouldn't care what happened to it… just the people."

"But we live here. If Knockturn Alley was destroyed then we'd 'ave no 'ome. No place to live. I don't like it either but…"

"Hey! Stop backin' me inta a corner!"

"I'm not I'm jus' tryin'a prove my point. Hey! Don't bloody shove me!"

Tlain listened to the banter of her friends and housemates with fading interest. Politics was all talk and games and, while she found Muggle politics fascinating, these two, Erik and Claudia, knew little on the topic of wizard government and were debating over the most elementary type of politics she had ever heard. The fight that ensued interested her even less than the talk did and she rose from her perch on the ratty foot stool. She strutted with all of her ten year-old arrogance to the man they called Mr. Father.

"Sir. Might I go for a walk b'fore lights out?" The huge man had a red beard with grey streaks at such intervals that they looked as though they had been measured with a ruler. His beady eyes were framed by masses of grey-red hair. He always wore a hideous brown suit with an open collar so you could see his chest hair pouring out over onto his jacket.

"Be back b'fore night fall, young'un. You know what'll 'appen if'n ye fergit." He growled. The girl nodded and was out the door before Mr. Father could change his mind.

Tlain gazed at the evening streets of Knockturn Alley through hazel eyes that changed with her mood, hazel when she was passive and pensive. She reached up to scratch her matted raven hair with long delicate fingers, her right pinky looked like it had been broken in several places, the mark of the drunken wrath of Mr. Father. She was forever draped in a black trench coat, her prized possession, as it was, she never took it off. Tlain all but lived in the garment and it seemed to grow with her, so she'd never have to get a new one. The girl looked so at home in the coat it appeared, not as a separate entity, but a part of her being, growing from her back, at least, that was what a man named Hagrid thought as he flew over the "alley," off to deliver a letter. A special letter, it was addressed to "The Boy Who Lived." Rubeus Hagrid was the Keeper of the Keys and the Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and was charged, by the Headmaster, to personally deliver all acceptance letters to their young recipients. Hagrid recognized the girl down in the Alley at once and glanced at the letter bag he carried on his shoulder. After the Boy Who Lived, this girl was next to receive her letter. He grinned at how happy he knew she would be and flew on.

Tlain's head snapped up as the large man flew over her home. She scowled 'These peoples I don't know always thinkin' on me. Why they gotta do that? They don't know I can hear 'em I'm guessin'. Wish I could hear they thoughts tho. Not jus' this buzz when they be a thinkin' on me.' She heard the buzz again from a couple across the street. They were staring at her trench coat. It seemed to be flapping in the wind but no one could remember the last time a gust of wind dared to fly down Knockturn Alley. Tlain snorted and glared at the couple and spun to walk down the street again. Nightfall was but an hour away and she had places to be.

Tlain spend down the street, cutting corners and across vacant lots, as was customary on this particular journey, she could not afford to be followed. Her pace slowed as she approached a shabby looking building and she glanced around her as a precaution. Noting the bums that lined the side of the street she strode with the confidence no other ten year-old could muster into the slum's apothecary.

The woman at the counter looked up and a thinly veiled sneer crossed her face. "It be tha' time arready, innit?"

"Yea, mum. I be needin' sum more uv yer special brew ifn' ye don' mind."

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Ye think I've forgotten our lil' bargain 'ere? Where's th' stuff an' I'll give you yers." Tlain procured a canvas bag from a hidden pocket inside her coat and emptied the contents on the counter. Out rolled the strangest assortment of artifacts, from dried frog legs to crumply looking mushrooms, even some twitching bits of bark. "Don' know where ye find all this here, young un' but ye do a fine job none the more… arright, ye've earned yer potion fer de month."

The young girl nodded and took the dark bottle shoved in her face. "Ye ever gunna tell me 'oo dis be fer?" The woman's eyebrow disappeared beneath her tattered bangs as she flung the question at Tlain with her gravely voice. The girl shook her head, hiding a grimace and stalked out of the shop, shoving the bottle into her bag as she went. Several years ago things began happening to her, inexplicable things, mainly when she got angry, sometimes when she got very sad. She had explained these symptoms to an elderly friend of hers, one who would know about these things and she trusted. The friend directed her to the apothecary and to a potion she said would help Tlain. The girl didn't want to know what was wrong with her and didn't care. These happenings scared her. She felt so powerful when they happened, like she could do anything, like she could be anything. Tlain cared about the other children in the home and did not want to hurt them if she ever lost control of the happenings. She went to the apothecary and was directed to pick up the potion once a month in exchange for several hard to find potion ingredients. The woman behind the counter meant to deny her the potion, believing that Tlain would never be able to find the ingredients in the slums of Knockturn Alley, but every month Tlain appeared with the items and took her potion quietly. Few questions were asked and little fuss was made. Tlain took her potion and everyone was none the wiser. Her friend repeatedly offered to tell her what was wrong with her but she vehemently refused. To her mind, if she could learn as little as she could about what was going on, it would go away, she could ignore it until it disappeared completely. How wrong she was, she would soon find out.

Tlain turned a corner and found herself facing west. She glanced up in horror when she realized that the sun wasn't glaring into her eyes. She would've gone on, she had her potion and she could just keep going and never turn back, she had amazingly good vision in the dark and the people don't bother her but she couldn't afford to not go home. She couldn't afford to anger Mr. Father, for if she didn't come home, some other poor child would face his wrath and she couldn't bare the thought of that. No, angering Mr. Father was not an option. Tlain flexed her crooked finger and set off at a run feeling the bottle thump against her back with every step, a constant reminder of her urgent problem.

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Note from the Author: Yea…. I dunno, I guess I like it. The next chapter I think I like better so far. Anyway, responses would be nice. I'm gunna mix this up as much as I can but I'll stay true to the story and the characters for the most part. Hope you guys enjoyed! The next chapter is longer so review review review and I'll post it!! hearts -Gwen Rathlyn