Don't own it... Don't even know if many people will wander into this ficcy... But many many thanks to BlueTrillium for all the help. I guess I'm doing this more for myself than others. I have read some other ficcys along the same line as this - but due to time issues haven't had time to review - sorry about that but I do hope to one day correct that!

A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love

Chapter 1: Serenity and the Diary

Dear Diary

Wow… now that's just lame! Transfer to a new location and BAM! Total lameness protruding from the orifices of every pore of writing. Really now, am I really going to care what is written in this stupid little book with a flimsy lock (easy to pick or just break) when I 'grow up'? Guess I won't know that till much later in life so I might as well try to do this right.

He scratched his head and smiled uncertainly. Orifices? What did that mean? Shrugging he opted to continue reading. The telly didn't have anything worth watching on it and he was beyond bored. The rambling thoughts of a stupid girl might provide a little entertainment. Maybe…

Okay. I'm a 16 year old transfer student. Well, sorta a transfer student. I was really looking forward to coming to England. This is the country my mom was born in and lived in. Actually, I was born here too but mom took me to America when I was just old enough to be on a plane. Okaayy… enough of the history stuff. This is my diary and I know I'll remember the story of mom and dad. No need to write about it.

He wasn't a genius, but he knew by her accent that she was from The States. That and some of the words she used were just near about ridiculous.

So, I transfer here to attend Hogwarts. For some reason my aunt refused to believe that England wasn't safe right now with this evil madman on the loose (Lord What's-his-face) and shipped me off to stay with dad. Yeah! Like that worked! Dad had about as much to say to me when I got here as he had my entire existence. A BIG FAT NOTHING!

He shook his head so faintly it barely stirred his hair. His dad, and mum for that matter, had always doted on him. He never imagined there were parents out there that wouldn't want to be around their children. Granted Harry had always gotten the short end of the stick, but he wasn't a brother and therefore Mum and Dad didn't need to treat him like a son. But it might have been okay if they had been a little nicer to Harry.

Dudley bit his bottom lip in frustration. Only a few short years ago the thought of Harry's treatment at home only amused him. He was the one with seniority at home. He was the important one. The boy in the endless spotlight as it should be. It was times like this Dudley wrestled with his emotions. It was only right for him to be 'top dog'. Right? Harry was an orphan and therefore lower in social status.

But then Harry had to go and save his life. He wasn't the smartest person in the world, but he knew that Harry didn't have to save him. He often wondered if the roles were reversed if he would have saved Harry. If he had been treated like Harry, would he have made certain his relatives were safe? He shook his head again and found his place in the diary opened on the table before him.

Would seem that dear daddy is right in the middle of all this 'Let's take over the freaking world' mess. On the wrong side! Really. Just my luck to have a Death Eater as a father. Ick! I'm so glad I put that information together before relating my real surname to my hosts. Giving mom's maiden name was clever. So, now I'm Serenity Woodscroft. Not as catchy as my real name but it will suffice.

So, anyway, now I'm stuck at a safe house helping out to watch over a family of muggles instead of going to school for my seventh year. I do wonder if it'll still be okay to have skipped my last year, even though my marks were well above average. My last headmaster said I could test out of seventh year if I wanted to. But I was curious of this Hogwarts. Maybe they'll let me test out after the years up. Sorta like a wizarding GED. After the war will it even matter?

Well, I have totally demolished this page in my diary. I guess I'll chalk it up to dealing with that stubborn Vernon Dursley. I sure wish he would take lessons from his son and chill out! The man drives me insane – a tall feat since I grew up around a load of muggles. Oh good grief! I just wrote 'load'. Must be the lingo around here rubbing off. Anyway, that's it for now. Same stupid time, same stupid channel… and all that jazz.

Dudley read through the last paragraph slowly. She had actually complimented him in writing. Granted she wasn't a bad person. She was usually chipper and nice to everyone. Still, she did have this vein on her forehead that seemed to bulge out every time dad said anything.

The creaking board in the hallway alerted him in time to snap the book closed and stash it under the scattered papers on the small desk. It was just out of sight when a knock issued on the thin wooden door. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could before answering.

As expected a mane of wavy brown hair cascaded around the slightly opened door. Following were a pair of bluish-green eyes. Materializing further, Serenity only emerged halfway through the gap, leaving the rest of her in the hallway.

"Dinner's ready," she said smiling.

He smiled back. It was hard not to smile at her. She had an addicting personality he found oddly fascinating.

"What's it?"

She giggled lightly. "Can't you ever make that a complete sentence? What's it?" she repeated, trying, and failing, to imitate his deep voice. "Well, for once we are fresh out of shepherd's pie and are now going to resort to trying an Italian dish made in a very American style!"

He stood slowly. "So, you cooked tonight?"

She nodded. "Dedalus is still shook up about the raid on his house. He lost everything he owned. Hestia's trying to keep him calmed down. In the process the two drank one too many glasses of mead. So I went to the store and grabbed the fixings for lasagna."

He took half a step, unable to hide the confusion. "Raid?"

"Oh yeah," she breathed, stepping fully into his room. "The Death Eaters. Not pretty, I tell ya. Not pretty at all. I reckon Dedalus made it out just in time. Good thing the house was not being lived in. He had only gone to gather a few things when the baddies showed up. Nasty news, those Death Eaters. Wish they would let me have a crack at 'em. I have a few tricks up my sleeves." She pumped her fist in the air a few times. Her eyes held an anger to them that told Dudley he was better to stay on her good side.

He gave her a throaty chuckle which she interpreted as his belief. He had never seen her do magic. He had asked her once if she was really a witch. She had quickly confessed she was but she seemed sympathetic to the Dursleys and never did magic visibly around them. He was fairly sure she had cooked tonight's meal without any magic since mum had a way of finding the kitchen when she was bored – which was very often.

He had been proud of himself when he announced to her weeks ago that he knew she couldn't do magic outside of school before she was seventeen. That had been the case for Harry. His ego was quickly deflated when she informed him she could do magic wherever she pleased. When she had entered the country, there was already a state of panic and the Trace (whatever that was) hadn't been placed on her. She was too far away from her home country for any spell she did to register there. For some reason it seemed even the wizards hadn't found a way to stretch their magic across the Atlantic Ocean.

Aside from restraining her magic around the house, she also dressed decently. For some reason, wizards and witches had the hardest time dressing themselves. Unlike the odd combination of clothing the others wore, Serenity always looked quite normal in her usual attire of a dress or blue jeans and t-shirt. He guessed she only wore the dresses because mum had taken a liking to her and gone shopping. Mum had obviously picked out the dresses since they all looked like something she would wear. Serenity wasn't nearly as petite as mum, but she wasn't as large as dad. She had an average body build which Dudley couldn't help but to find more attractive than the tiny models that seemed to be popular.

Not that he was interested in Serenity. No way! She was a witch. That would be Forbidden with a capital F.

She must have caught the odd expression on his face. She tilted her head to the side as if scrutinizing him. "Now, what's going on in that head of yours?" Her tone was light and amused.

"Oh, nothing…"

She simply nodded and led the way from the room. She stopped at the top of the stairs and inclined her head toward him. "Do you hate wizards and witches?"

He wrinkled his eyebrows, unsure where that question had come from.

She took a small breath. "Sorry. Never mind." Before he could fathom anything she was halfway down the staircase.

As usual, he sat between mum and dad at the large table. They always made him sit between them like he was being sheltered from the house itself. Part of him wanted to rebel and tell them it was no use. As much as they wanted to deem magic was all make-believe, it was real, and somewhere out there Harry was right in the middle of it. Dudley couldn't help but to often wonder how his cousin was, and at times he worried uncharacteristically.

"So, Miss Woodscroft," his father started in his usual tart tone. "You said one time your mother was from England?"

Dudley nearly choked on a mouthful of pasta and red sauce. Dad must have gone mad to actually be trying to hold a conversation with a witch. He had spent weeks avoiding any contact with anyone in the house other than his wife and son. If neither of them were around he kept his nose stuck in the newspaper which Serenity had been thoughtful enough to bring to the house daily.

Serenity smiled. "Yes, she was. I was born here too. We moved to America when I was only a baby to live with her sister there."

"And where is she now?"

Dudley turned his head from his father to the girl who sat alone across from them. He was almost sure he saw something unreadable flash for a split second in her eyes.

"She died in an accident nearly a year ago. Aunt Addie didn't know what to do with me so she sent me back here."

Vernon grunted; swallowing a large mouthful. "So, you were a troublesome child?"

Dudley let out a sigh. Dad was obviously really bored and ready to resume his life. He wasn't happy being cooped up in a safe house; especially not one run by magic.

"Err… no, I wasn't a problem in that way…" He could see her struggling with her words. "Aunt Addie didn't quite know how to handle my educational needs."

"Ah!" exclaimed Vernon; much like a man who just made a major discovery. "Your aunt is a normal person. Proper people shouldn't have to deal with abnormalities."

Dudley jerked his attention back to Serenity. Sure enough that vein was once again throbbing over her right eye. The fork she was holding trembled slightly as her knuckles turned slightly white. She took two large breaths and pushed away from the table.

"Excuse me," she said mustering as much politeness as she could. "I'll leave you and your family to eat in peace."

Dudley was sure she wasn't done eating herself, but had lost her appetite. When she first came to the house his father's comments didn't affect her so much. Over time it was only reasonable that she would cringe at anything that came out of Vernon Dursley's mouth.

"Hold up, girl." Dudley dropped his own fork and stared dumbstruck at his father. How could the man keep at it? She wasn't Harry. Was he trying to find a replacement punching bag?

His mum seemed to sense the same. "Vernon? Dear?"

"Not now, Petunia. What of your father, girl? Why doesn't he take over your schooling?"

Serenity paused and turned halfway, looking over her shoulder. "Mr. Dursley, there is a war going on. The school here is directly affected. My education is temporarily on hold."

Vernon huffed. "Still, a father wouldn't just leave his daughter alone without checking in on her. Where's he been? Why hasn't he come here to see you?"

Dudley saw a single tear swell in the girl's eye before she turned her back on the occupants of the room. "Good night. I hope you all sleep well."

And with that she disappeared in the kitchen. Dudley heard her clear off her plate and place it in the sink before retreating upstairs to her room. No one spoke for a few minutes. Petunia took small bites, concentrating on her meal. Dudley followed her example. The food was surprisingly good and he really wanted to finish it.

Vernon, on the other hand, wasn't content. "Well, that was just rude. A proper lady would have explained herself properly."

"A p-proper lady?" stammered Dudley. "I think she handled it just fine. You were poking into her personal stuff and instead of telling you off she ignored it."

Vernon rounded on him. "And what do you mean by that?"

Dudley swallowed, not wanting to go against his father. But at the same time the light of rebellion had been lit. "Well, you were prying, Dad. It would've been natural to snap back. But she didn't."

"Oh really!" Dudley could feel the force of anger behind his dad's voice. Being cooped up did not work for Vernon one bit. "And who are you to tell me how to conduct myself? Are you implying that I was rude?" Vernon's nose flared slightly with each word.

Dudley, eager to be away from the situation he had induced, stood and gathered his mostly empty plate.

"Sorry dad," he caved in. "I'm just tired. Think I'll go on to bed."

Vernon nodded tersely. "Yeah, you do that."

Dudley left his plate on the kitchen counter. Through the open door to the dining room he could hear his dad complaining to mum. It was the same old argument of how no one cared that his personal life was ruined thanks to a bunch of weirdoes. Dudley didn't stop to listen for more. He was going to bed as he said he was. He didn't feel like arguing or thinking much right now.

On his way to his room he passed the closed door where he was sure Serenity had retreated to. His room was across from hers. He almost knocked on it but stopped as a realization popped in his head. He had just accused his own father of prying. Like father like son, he assumed. He had just been reading the girl's diary. Of course, she had left it out on the coffee table. It wasn't locked, but it was still personal.

For some reason, he felt the need to apologize. Snatching the diary off the desk in his room, he had made up his mind. He would confess and hope she didn't decide it was the final straw. He really didn't want to be turned into a rat. If that was even possible…