Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This is a partial parody, written merely because some fanfiction authoress out there got some crazy ideas she needed to get out of her head.

- o0o -

The Girl Who Lived

- o0o -

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had always considered themselves a perfectly normal couple, living in a perfectly normal neighborhood with their perfectly normal son Dudley, who they adored above all else. As they were already living a fairly happy normal life, neither Vernon nor Petunia found themselves particularly overjoyed when they discovered their niece Raven Potter neatly deposited on their doorstep like a morning newspaper.

At first the Dursleys had done what they could in order to make the freakish child feel unwelcome, forcing her to do housework from an early age and punishing her for the "unnaturalness" she had obviously inherited from her good-for-nothing parents. These punishments didn't go on for long however, as the then seven-year-old Raven promised retaliation with a fireball hovering slightly above her palm, and the Dursleys settled for ignoring her as much as possible.

Young Raven Potter, having experienced several things most didn't experience in a lifetime, grew up fast and discarded a majority of the things that made her human by applying the life lessons she'd been taught, by the Dursleys and by the world in general.

One of the first lessons that she learned was the fact that people didn't really care, at least not about people like her; the Dursleys were pretty open about what they thought of her, having labeled her a freak and later on upgraded her to the Devil's Incarnate and all, but it was also pretty obvious that the rest of the world didn't give a damn either, as everyone had turned a blind eye to her even if it was quite obvious that she was being neglected and sometimes even abused by her guardians. Having already concluded that no one cared, at least not enough to intervene, Raven applied what she liked to call counter logic to it; if people didn't care about her wellbeing then she would not care about theirs.

Raven was a hypocrite, in more ways than one, although she rarely admitted it even to herself; in terms of hypocrisy and two-facedness she was way ahead of the rest as she was in possession of an evil alter-ego which she'd created in order to hold all her destructive tendencies at bay, which was more for her own sake really since she really didn't feel like ending up in some sort of correctional institution if she could avoid it; besides, the last thing she wanted was to have a psychologist poking around in her already disordered mind.

- o0o -

Ten years after that fateful November morning Petunia Dursley's nephew had been found at the doorstep of house number four at Privet Drive in Surrey not much had changed; Raven was still sleeping in the small dark cupboard beneath the stairs, but not at the moment since she had woken up a couple of hours prior, experiencing a foreboding sensation which told her something potentially unfavorable was about to occur.

Her prediction was about as accurate as usual, at least judging from the old-looking letter addressed to her, the same letter which sent her aunt into hysterics and her uncle into yet another fit of rage. The man swore loudly, uttering something about freaks, and then proceeded to burn the letter. He had just about done so when another round of letters, seemingly identical, came in the mail. Raven took them and stared at them for a couple of seconds before handing them over to her rather surprised-looking uncle; her reasons for doing this could be found in the fact that a) if she hadn't then her uncle would've started shouting at her and she really didn't like being subjected to loud noises this early in the morning and b) she really liked watching things burn.

The process was the repeated with the hundred-and-eleven ones which followed before Vernon started thinking about having the family going on a spontaneous trip. Raven did feel that she was seeing small cracks appearing on the man's sanity at that very moment, but was wise enough to shut up.

A snicker resounded in her head.

- o0o -

Something which had happened before all these letters started arriving were the events that had taken place at Cousin Dudley's birthday (featuring the usual temper tantrums as the fat pig didn't get enough presents). The only thing which differentiated this birthday for any other was the fact that Mrs. Figg, a neighbor who was usually entrusted with her (because obviously she couldn't be left alone in the house now, could she?), had been in an accident (an accident which Raven herself definitely hadn't been responsible for) and couldn't watch her, forcing the Dursleys to bring her along for the trip to the local zoo to which they were bringing Dudley and his friend Pier Polkiss.

Raven didn't mind this much however, the trip to the zoo at least, because even if she wasn't such a big fan of animals she found them preferable to humans anytime. This did not however apply to those poor little creatures, belonging to Mrs. Figg, cats or whatever they were, as they were all too persistent in following her around and because of that several of them had ended up as piles of ash (courtesy of Raven's manifesting pyromania) and used as fertilizer in Petunia's garden.

Anyways, they got to the zoo without any incident, which was far more than what could be said about the visit itself, as Raven somehow got into a very deep conversation with a Brazilian Boa Constrictor and somehow ended up setting it loose, totally unintentionally of course. Besides, it wasn't like anybody could prove that she did it anyway, even if her uncle hiding behind the newspaper the next morning had actually looked up at her with a dangerously red tinge to his face, choking out a furious "Go to your cupboard. Three days. No food", obviously having read the headline screaming about a snake terrorizing zoo visitor and whatnot.

Raven hadn't been very impressed ("I will have to resort to cannibalism if I am not properly fed, Uncle…")

- o0o -

The spontaneous trip her uncle had been talking about didn't occur, but that was mostly because Raven got sick of the letters and finally decided to open one, which was addressed to "Raven Potter, the cupboard under the stairs, number four Privet Drive, Surrey, England". Already aware of the fact that stalkers existed, Raven instead asked herself why there wasn't "UK, Europe, Earth" and so on following that, since these people did seem very throughout with what they were doing… and rather old-fashioned since they appeared to be using parchment and quills.

She tilted her head to the side, breaking the seal without much effort and proceeded to pull out the letter and started reading it, raising an eyebrow as her brain processed what was written in it and by the time she was done there was a frown present on her face.

"I guess that explains a lot…" she muttered briefly before the letter spontaneously erupted in flames. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry my ass."

Somehow Raven felt rather frustrated at the prospect of having to deal with this troublesome matter.

Okay, fuck this. I'm not going to some stupid wizarding school; I'm going to Stonewall and I'm torching the place. End of story.

Sounds like a plan, her inner voice responded. Still, seeing to the fact that we're currently being stalked by these wizards or whatever, shouldn't we like… research them or something?

Why is there a need to research them? Raven asked. What's wrong with just setting them on fire there and there when they show their ugly faces?

There was a brief silence.

You know, her inner voice finally responded. Considering the fact that I am supposedly the deranged alter ego you supposedly created due to childhood trauma or whatever I do believe that I act far more reasonably than you at the moment…

Yeah sure, whatever, Raven replied while yawning. I still don't get why you don't think I should set them on fire.

Because obviously it would be very foolish of you to attack an enemy you know nothing about, the other responded. So, what do we know about these wizards?

Raven had to think for a while. They apparently have schools?

A separate school system for wizards likely indicates the presence of other institutions such as parliament, government and a court, since there's likely to be some sort of secret wizarding community which likely needs those things to work properly, her inner voice responded. So, a secret excursion to secret wizarding society in order to research potential enemies in order to find out their weaknesses?

Raven considered it for a couple of seconds. Then she sighed. Fine… but how are we supposed to find…

Hint, hint, Petunia, hint.

What?

Hint, hint, Dursleys refer to magic as freaky, they refer to you as a freak, they refer to them as a freak, they say you've inherited your parents' freakiness… freakiness equals magic. Conclusion: your mom was a witch and Petunia knew and hated it. Do I really have to figure out everything for you, you lazy good-for-nothing? We share the same brain and I have all the answers so how come you don't?

Raven sighed. Yeah, yeah… So are we blackmailing Petunia or not?

Of course not; we're merely using some alternative means of persuasion…

- o0o -

So, after successfully having persuaded (threatened) Petunia, Raven was preparing for her small excursion in the unknown territory commonly referred to as the Leaky Cauldron and beyond that something called Diagon Alley, taking pretty much every detail into consideration in terms of disguises and whatnot, due to the fact that she was one paranoid bastard deep within.

Either way, she took a bus to London and soon enough located the street she'd been told about, having only gotten lost about three times doing so, due to her crappy and nearly nonexistent sense of direction. This mattered very little however as she had now located the Leaky Cauldron, a rundown pub of some sort which seemingly went unnoticed by the other people on the street. Unwilling to waste anymore time she approached it, entering and finding the inside about as classy as the outside. Not that Raven actually gave a damn about classiness; she merely paid notice to her own surroundings for once.

A toothless man standing by the bar beamed at her.

"Well hello, young lady,'" he said. "Are you lost?"

Raven, immediately adopting her innocent child persona, looked around for a bit with wide eyes before turning back towards the man. "I don't think so… this is the Leaky Cauldron, yes?"

- o0o -

Her cover story was a simple one, although not that far from the truth actually; she was a muggle-raised half-blood orphan who'd been sent there to retrieve her school supplies by her squib aunt (although Raven was uncertain as to whether Petunia would really qualify as a squib, she did believe that the word itself was so bloody entertaining, especially in terms of the reactions she got by uttering it, that she really didn't feel like passing up the chance).

At the mention of her, as she learned later on, un-pure heritage, people's attitude did change somewhat and mostly to the negative, but having spent the better part of her childhood with the Dursleys she barely took note of it and focused on the people that seemed more intent on being helpful and pointing her in the right direction, mentioning some bank called Gringotts and some bookstore called Flourish & Blotts or something like that.

Feeling just a tad disoriented herself Raven swiftly consulted the presumably all-knowing voice residing in her head.

So, almighty all-knowing alter ego… where do we go from here?

- o0o -

Approximately six hours later Raven Potter stumbled out of the wizarding world, utterly culture-shocked, fairly disoriented and more convinced than ever that these wizards ought to be labeled clinically insane, all of them, and that was a lot coming from a person as screwed up mentally as Raven herself.

Another rather disturbing realization had been the fact that apparently, in this small and very screwed up society, she was bloody famous for having offed some Dark Lord (whose name apparently must not be named), earning herself the title the Girl-Who-Lived. At this point one of her eyebrows began twitching.

Seriously, what was with these people and stupid names? Their naming sense was so bad it wasn't even funny anymore. Honestly, who names a school Hogwarts? Honestly, why name the bank Gringotts? Honestly, why refer to non-magical humans as something as ridiculous as muggles? Honestly, why refer to wizardborn unable to do magic as squibs? Honestly, why refer to some megalomaniac as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who?

So many worthless questions to ponder, yet so little reason to do it as Raven had concluded that for the moment she knew enough about these dress-wearing weirdoes to conclude that it was very likely that they lacked common sense and that she really didn't like the idea of joining them, fearing that their rampant stupidity and sheep like behavior would eventually be rubbing off on her.

- o0o -

Raven didn't really like the idea of going to Hogwarts, but as it seemed her own plans and wishes seemed rather irrelevant in the face of the wizarding world, which appeared before her yet again in the shape of a tall bearded man by the name of Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid, who was apparently some sort giant, or at least Raven assumed so. A small one, perhaps, but at the moment she didn't really have much to compare with now, did she?

At least she was feeling quite relieved that they were currently had been away from the eyes of her relatives, although she didn't quite favor the location, which was a hamburger restaurant. Hagrid's considerable size was, in itself, enough for people to stare at them, but the fact that he was also wandering around with a pink umbrella at his side didn't exactly help his image. Raven resisted the urge to stare; instead she leaned forward, taking another sip of her cola.

"So…" she said in a calm voice. "What can I do for you, Mr. Hagrid?"

A letter was presented before her and she ripped it open without much care and read through it once again, as she had done a few days previously, but really, she still needed to keep up appearances. Pretending to be ignorant did seem like the way to go, at least at that moment.

- o0o -

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorv., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary supplies you will need to complete your first year at Hogwarts.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

- o0o -

Raven looked up at him with questioning eyes, carefully hiding the calculating glint in them as she analyzed the person before her a bit further before finally deciding on a few things.

"Who's Dumbledore and why do I have to go to a school for witchcraft?"

One; he seemed a bit thick, but certainly loyal to certain people. Two; he seemed capable of slipping pieces of information by mistakes. A virtually unbeatable combo if one managed to get friendly with them.

- o0o -

Five minutes later Hagrid had presented her with the answers, which were something regarding a certain Mugwump and something else which she didn't really pay much attention to Raven slowly started to realize to exactly to what proportion this whole magic problem had grown. Apparently, she was already enlisted in that school and had been so since her birth, courtesy of her late parents.

She sighed heavily.

I have never met them and I hate them already...

There was a silent agreement from her darker side.

- o0o -

And so, seemingly in the blink of an eye, Raven's plans for the upcoming year had to be altered once again as she was dragged over to the Diagon Alley to get her supplies after a stop by the goblin-run bank Gringotts. This little visit however resulted in two very good things.

The first good thing was that she uncovered the fact that her late parents seemed to have left her a small fortune. In wizard money, of course, but that didn't faze her much. If they were converted into pounds then she was certain that she would be able to buy herself a castle if she wished to do so. Too bad the money at her current disposal was merely a trust fund of some sort and according to the laws of this magic community she wouldn't be able to access the rest of the vaults before she came of age, at seventeen she believed. At least she liked her late parents a bit more now; money could change Raven's opinion about almost anything.

The second good thing was that the cart drive down to the vaults had caused Hagrid to have an urgent need of alcohol, so with a little bit of reassuring Raven succeeded in shopping for her school supplies alone. Still, she had not yet forgotten the small dirty package the bearded giant of a man had brought with him out of vault 713. The package, whatever it contained, was clearly none of her business so she didn't ask about it, but in some weird way it almost called out to her. After all, it had been locked inside a supposed high security vault inside of the bank, so it was bound to be either extremely valuable or extremely dangerous.

Either way, Raven disregarded the mysterious package in favor of the situation she currently had at her hand. Pulling out the list of necessary supplies she ogled through it once again before heaving a heavy sigh. At least Hagrid was finally out of the way, at least temporarily.

Standing there, all on her own in Diagon Alley, a weird sense of freedom overcame her, but it dissolved into thin air almost completely as soon as she laid eyes on the list of supplies she needed to get. As soon as she spotted the sign to Ollivander's she walked briskly towards it, determined to make the best of the situation, or to play along at the moment.

"Which one is your wand arm?"

Raven looked up at the creepy looking old man who was in charge of the place.

"I'm ambidextrous actually."

A wand was presented before her.

"Try this one."

Half an hour later Raven exited Ollivander's store with a not too happy expression plastered over her face. Her brief encounter with that Ollivander guy had added several questions to her list of things she needed to find out.

Now… What do I do with this stick?

Let's break it.

What?

You heard the Beard, didn't you? He said something about getting expelled and having his wand snapped. Do you know what that means?

That if I snap this I will expel myself? Do you really think it's that easy?

But we don't need to wave around a stick. We can make things happen without it.

I know, but do we want them to know that?

…No.

Then let's get on with this freaking list.

- o0o -

After that the days seemingly flew by as Raven took a pause from her scheming and read all the books she had bought, due to excessive boredom of course, during her stay at the Leaky Cauldron, as she had not see it fit to return to Private Drive as of yet. If ever. Hagrid didn't know of course and it was just as well, since his employer, that Dumbledore guy, wouldn't have allowed it as far as she knew. Or maybe he did know about it. On second thought, that was very likely, but if anyone asked questions she had a great excuse, namely that she couldn't possibly bother her Aunt and Uncle about driving her all the way to London on September 1st. A sweet lie of course, as she could easily manipulate/threaten them to comply if needed, and such means of persuasion wouldn't probably even have been needed, as the Dursleys would be more than delighted at the thought of getting the sociopathic pyromaniac out of the house for at least a year… or seven if the Supreme Mugwump got his way. Raven herself couldn't remember meeting the guy, but she had a tingly feeling that he was far more than Hagrid put him out to be. That Dumbledore guy sounded at least as dangerous to her personal cause as that You-know-who guy who was apparently out for her blood. Correction, had been, as he was little more than a spirit at the moment.

The existence of You-know-who didn't faze her much, as she was far too preoccupied with the ridiculousness of the name to care. The whole idea of this whole You-know-who business was ridiculous in itself and Raven had been forced to waste at least half an hour of her precious time in order to persuade Hagrid to give her the real name of her supposed enemy.

Lord Voldemort.

That was what he referred to himself as, meaning he had to be one ego stroking megalomaniac, nonetheless that was to be expected. Exactly why this megalomaniac had been after her life and slaughtered her parents in order to get to her was still unknown and Raven had a despicable feeling that the Dumbledore guy might have the answer.

The Dark Lord.

That was what his followers, the Death Eaters, called him. It was a nice title, but Raven found herself wondering about the man behind it. After all, why would a group of people blindly follow a megalomaniac everywhere if not for the fact that he could accomplish something for them, give them something which no one else could supply them with. Raven was curious and enticed rather than scared or disgusted as she probably should've been; this man was her parents' killer after all and wanted her out of the way. Permanently.

You-know-who.

It was just a name, so what was it to fear? Not much, not to Raven at least. Even if it was due to a stroke of luck she had apparently beaten this dark lord, kicked his ass and flung his killing curse right back at him when she was a mere toddler. Now that was some irony. Nonetheless, it made her very aware of her newfound status among freaks, the one as the Girl-who-lived, and she assumed that people would not be very prone to ignore that once they figured it out.

Raven heaved a sigh, looking out of the window.

This is going to be seven long years… I'm going to be so freaking bored…

Suggestion: Let's go there and torch the place.

Maybe later. Like when I graduate. Now that would be epic.

A soft hooting was heard from the cage at the other end of the room and a snow-white owl stared at her with a pair of round golden eyes.

Hedwig. It was Hagrid's present for her eleventh birthday. Apparently wizards had owls delivering their mail.

Since Raven had nothing better to do she issued a staring contest between her and the owl. After about an hour or so she gave up, breaking the connection as the owl hooted with triumph.

Raven glanced down at the ticket she had received, the ticket to the Hogwarts Express. Why did she suddenly feel such an urge to rip it to shreds?

- o0o -

Since it was almost a month before she actually needed to do anything Raven made a swift decision, got permission to stay in the magical world from the Dursleys, who were obviously delighted at having her out of sight, and stayed in her room and studied for the most part, but she was quick to realize that something was missing in her books. Yes… the practical knowledge about the performance of the so called Dark Arts. Really, DADA, Defense Against the Dark Arts, seemed interesting, but it still felt… incomplete to her. She wanted more; she wanted to learn spells that reflected the darkness residing in her soul… or something like that. Not that she could wander freely around at the moment either, since she could feel eyes following her whenever she went outside of her room. This could be helped however, as she was swift to attain a cloak, lose her watchers and soon she strolled freely in Knockturn Alley of all places. Why? Simply because it was a place where no one particularly minded aliases or the purchase of illegal items as long as one had the money to pay for it and Raven did have the money to purchase quite a collection of books of dark arts, both curses and counter curses and all that stuff.

It was in one of the books she had acquired from there that she found lots of information which might actually prove useful, such as the info about blood wards and seals. Raven also came to terms with why her own "magic" hadn't been discovered; it appeared that her fire was either some kind of weird untraceable magic or completely natural fire appearing at her command, which was rather convenient.

Knockturn Alley was also a great place to become acquainted with the right people, namely the ones on the wrong side of the law or bordering to it. In the alley she made herself known as Darcie le Fay, an orphan half-blood with little in common with the Light and the laws of the Ministry. She appeared neutral, but despised muggles. Raven however did not intend to fling her title as the Girl-Who-Lived into the faces of those she met in there, as she probably would've ended up assassinated in a back alley if she did.

Returning to her room after another day's adventure, Raven put her load of books onto the floor before pulling out her newly acquired notebook and started planning her upcoming seven years or so.

Acquire the knowledge necessary to survive and kick some ass. Check.

Play the part of a fairly innocent and naïve eleven-year-old. Check.

Make friends with the right people…

She paused briefly.

Why do we even need friends?

We need someone who can cover our tracks and then we need some enemies to put the blame on.

Enemies?

I'll try to make friends with the influential and enemies of the ones without influence.

I see.

Raven paused, sipping her tea as she looked out of the window down at the street below. Then she took a deep breath before blowing out the candle in front of her, leaving the room in absolute darkness.

It was a sunny day when Darcie le Fay, or Raven Potter as she was otherwise known as, took a cab to Kings Cross. Upon arriving she started dragging her trunk towards platform nine three-quarters; she didn't really need to drag it, since she had been smart enough to buy one with a ridiculous amount of space and an inbuilt feather light charm, so the dragging was merely a mean to avoid suspicion. Raven would have to abandon this farce eventually, but at the moment it seemed rather befitting. The trunk was also quite useful, since she put Hedwig inside it; dragging around a snow-white owl in a cage in the middle of Kings Cross would get her unwanted attention, so she hid it, just like she hid the scar on her forehead by applying a layer of makeup to it.

Once she arrived at her destination Raven spotted a family of redheads and she instantly knew that they had to be of the magical kind. The fact that they one by one or in pairs were disappearing into a pillar pretty much spoiled it. Nevertheless Raven pushed her glasses further up and watched them with keen interest and as all of them disappeared she made her way towards the portal or secret passageway which she knew had to be there somewhere. Raven passed through it without much effort and there she was, at platform nine and three-quarters.

This is… different.

It was packed with people, weird people, and Raven had a hard time suppressing a smile of glee at the thought of how Uncle Vernon would react in this environment. Then her face adapted a mask of indifference as she started pulling her trunk towards the train, hoping that she would be able to commandeer an empty compartment for her own private use, but judging from the crowd it wasn't very likely. Nevertheless, she still had to try.

After a bit of searching she finally found one, sighing of relief before seating herself and pulling out a book she had been reading. The black cover was fairly innocent, as the title of the book was not printed at it.

The Ancient Art of Shadow Magic. It was unheard of and therefore not forbidden, and Raven would prefer if it stayed that way. After all, it was a magic befitting of her character.

Shadow magic. It sounded a bit clichéd of course, but not as clichéd as light white magic and dark black magic did.

Then she put the book away and opened her trunk, pulling out Hedwig's cage and putting it onto the seat next to her. The snow-white owl glared at her for a few moments, sourly as it appeared, so Raven opened the cage, letting her out of it.

"Should I open a window or will you stay out of my hair?" Raven asked the owl, which scowled at her. Then Raven's facial expression softened slightly and she gave it a light pat on the head, earning a soft hoot. "I have a book to read, more plans to make and I'll treat you later."

But what do we treat her with?

Meat, a rat, a toad… whatever comes our way…

Raven returned to her book, but she was soon interrupted as the door to the compartment slid open and a head peeked inside. She continued reading, ignoring the newcomer.

"Can I sit here?" a red-haired boy with freckles asked. "Most other compartments are full."

"Suit yourself…" Raven said in a bored tone.

The boy seated himself at the seat opposite of her, giving her a couple of curious looks. Raven knew that the question was coming and she braced herself for the impact.

"Are you Raven Potter?"

Raven still didn't raise her eyes from the book.

"So what if I am?" she asked with her voice calm but still very cold as she could practically feel the stare at her forehead and she noticed the frown on the redhead's face once he didn't find the scar. Raven smiled inwardly.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

She looked up briefly, locking eyes with him for a second before returning to the book.

"I don't see the scar, but you're the only other one on this train who fits the description…" he said. "Are you Raven Potter?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

"Where's your scar?"

Raven, getting annoyed at the redhead pestering her with questions, looked up, her emerald eyes narrowed to slits. "Do I look like some sort of item on display, Weasley?" she asked, her voice cool as a glacier.

"Um… No?"

"Then kindly stop staring at me or I'll barbeque you."

Ron looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. "Is that a joke?"

Raven retained her quite unfriendly facial expression as she continued glaring at him. "Are you sure you want to stay and find out?"

And with that young Ronald swiftly excused himself, saying something about needing to talk to his brothers. After the door slid shut Raven's face turned expressionless again and she continued reading, flipping the page and starting on a new chapter.

Can I really barbeque him?

Not now, only if he comes back and gets on my nerves again.

Can I torch his stuff while we're waiting?

Raven eyed the coffer out, seriously considering it, but then she shrugged it off, mostly since it would be troublesome to explain once they arrived. Then she once again turned her concentration towards the book and flipped another page.

It was not long before yet another visitor disturbed her.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger…"

Raven gave the bushy haired girl a brief glance of acknowledgement before looking down again.

At least this one still has the manners to introduce herself first before getting on my nerves…

"…Neville has lost his toad. Have you seen it?"

…A toad?

Raven immediately lost interest and continued reading.

"I haven't."

"What's your name?" Hermione asked.

"Darcie le Fay", Raven replied, her eyes not leaving the book.

Hermione seated herself for a moment and Raven found herself silently wishing that it wouldn't be for long.

"Well, Darcie…" she said after a while. "Do you like books?"

Raven looked up, finally deciding that this bushy haired person might actually be worth her attention after all.

"I do. A lot actually. I just hope that Hogwarts Library has the standards that I'm looking for."

Hermione's eyes lit up at this.

"I've read in Hogwarts, A history that…"

Oh God… Not one of those…

"…Darcie…Are you also a muggleborn? I was very surprised when the letter came…"

Raven had to apply all her self-control not to roll her eyes while her brain processed the information and drew conclusions using it.

Muggleborn person = not likely to have any useful connections. Might be intelligent. If not, put on the ignore list.

"Actually…" Raven, playing the role as Darcie, said after a while. "I'm a half-blood, but I'm an orphan and was raised by my aunt's family and they're definitely muggles."

Hermione paused for a bit, giving Raven a bit of pleasant silence before the bushy haired girl started speaking again.

"I'm sorry about your loss…"

Raven flipped another page.

"It was a long time ago…" she said, her voice betraying no emotion. "I never really knew them anyway."

"But still…" Hermione paused briefly, before deciding to change the subject. "Oh well… Have you heard that Raven Potter has been spotted on the train?"

Raven hoped her facial mask wouldn't crack while Granger was still around. Instead she tried to look surprised and disbelieving before returning to her book.

"No, I haven't."

"…But really, I might have Raven Potter in my House… I've read so much about her… I wonder what she's like in real life…"

She's right in front of you and nothing like you expect.

"…What House do you think you'll be in, Darcie? I think I'm going to be Ravenclaw… either that or Gryffindor…"

Raven looked up from her book briefly. Then she looked down again.

"Ravenclaw… or Slytherin."

Definitely Slytherin. Especially after that speech "Gryffindor good, Slytherin bad" that Hagrid gave me back in the alley…

"…I wonder what House Raven Potter will be in… I'll ask if see her when I continue to look for Neville's toad… I hope we get into the same House, Darcie."

…And I'll pray for the exact opposite, since spending the upcoming seven years in your company would be a very stupid way to risk my already fragile sanity…

After waving goodbye as Hermione took her leave Raven marked the page where she had stopped reading, slammed the book shut and took the opportunity to change into her robes while no one else interrupted her. Hedwig gave her a meaningful glare before turning her head away.

Witches and wizards really do run around in dresses. If and in such case when I get to power I'm going to change that, even if it's going to be the end of me.

Get a life. Don't you have anything better to dedicate yourself to?

Like what? Didn't I already trip the Dark Lord when I was like one year old? Haven't I accomplished enough?

True. But still…

Okay… So you want a better goal for us to aspire to… How about… Going dark and burn everything to the ground?

Nope. Too easy. We could accomplish that in a day.

In a single day?

Yes. If we put some real effort into it.

I don't believe it.

And I don't care, you snotty little brat.

Raven looked up in surprise.

Snotty little brat? May I remind you that technically I'm older than you?

So what? I'm still smarter than you.

Raven's eyebrow twitched with annoyance.

"Smarter than me?" she sneered. "You're the one who's just a voice in my head."

And you're the one hearing voices so I guess that makes us even.

Raven was about to give another sneer comment to the voice when she suddenly sensed something, which caused her to sit back down and pull out her book as she started reading, once again with a bored expression on her face. As soon as her farce had been established the door slid open, revealing a pale blond-haired boy followed by two sturdy boys. Raven gave them a discreet, albeit very critical look.

One spoiled brat plus two muscles-but-no-brains…

Raven disguised a stifled laugh as a cough, but it was certainly enough for the pale blond to decide to acknowledge her presence.

"Are you the one they've been spreading rumors about, Raven Potter?" he asked, the mockery in his voice apparent, but Raven paid him no heed.

"I never once named myself that, but it appears that Weasel needs to check his hearing…" Raven said in a calm unaffected manner while she continued reading without giving him the slightest glance. "I merely named myself as Darcie le Fay. Now do you want anything or can I just blast you out of here?"

The pale boy raised an eyebrow.

"Blast me out of here?" he sneered. "There's no way. Who do you think you are, speaking to me, Draco Malfoy, you puny mudblood?"

Raven looked up, still unaffected.

"Half-blood actually", she said in an as-matter-of-fact voice. "Now choose between being barbequed, flung out of the window or exposed to some of the nastiest curses in this book."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"Do you have any idea about who I am?"

Raven continued looking at him, thoughtfully, before she made a very innocent guess.

"A racist spoiled brat and his two cronies without a brain of their own?"

Now, Raven already knew that she was right about to get beat up by these cronies, but really, she had no plan to let them go through with it. As soon as Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, as she later learned they were called, took even a step in her direction she raised her hand towards them, immediately dropping her façade and showing her real face, still lacking of expression, but with narrowed green eyes gleaming viciously at them.

"I will only give you one warning…" she hissed, turning her palm upwards and summoning fire into it. "Don't play with fire!"

To say that Malfoy looked impressed was only half-truth, since he looked very scared at the same time. His cronies were about the same as they too backed a few steps. And just at this very inappropriate moment Mr. Weasel and Miss Know-It-All just had to enter the compartment just as Raven was about to unleash her Hellfire into it. Seeing the additional audience arrive she swiftly cooled off, extinguishing the fire in her palm as her face once again became indifferent.

"You're a veela!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes big as sausages.

And what the Hell is that?

It's a…

"It's a magical race. Beautiful pale haired women, who lure men into weakness, have a terrible temperament, have the ability to transform into winged beasts when provoked and they can control fire…" Hermione swiftly answered.

"Oh…" Raven said, feigning ignorance. "But I have black hair, have I not?"

This had desired effect, as it actually did cause her to shut up for a moment.

"Well…" she said after a few seconds.

"You could still be related to…" Ron muttered.

"So what, Weasel?" Draco snapped, to Raven's honest surprise.

Ron's eyes narrowed as he laid eyes on the blood pureblooded aristocrat.

"It's Weasley", he hissed.

"Then, Weasley, I'll give you a clue…" Raven said flatly, bringing everybody's attention back to herself. "Even if I happen to be a veela or related to a veela I am pretty sure that has absolutely nothing at all to do with either you or Granger. Mind your own business. Piss off."

She waved dismissingly with her hand.

"Definitely a veela..." Ron muttered as he and Granger exited the compartment.

"I heard that", Raven shouted after them.

As soon as they were out of sight Malfoy broke out in laughter.

"Honestly, you should've seen the look on Weasel's face…" he snickered and offered his hand to her. "Priceless! Veela or not, you're not what I expected, Darcie le Fay aka Raven Potter."

Raven stared at the hand for a few moments. Then she took it.

"Unfortunately I cannot say the same about you, Mr. Malfoy", she said in a bored tone. "Call me Darcie or Raven. I don't care which."

He actually gave her a genuine smile at this.

"Call me Draco."

There was a brief silence. Then Raven spoke up.

"So… have I joined the dark side yet?"

- o0o -

Review? ^^