Harry and Violet: Different Visions, a harry potter fanfic

Harry And Violet: Different Visions

Summary: Dreaming. That's all Harry remembers before he wakes up in a world were his parents are alive, thus them bringing a new member into the family, a girl. His sister. This doesn't change the fact that Sirius is still in Azkaban, even though James is alive. Or the fact the Harry is barely more than squib in this new world. His dreams, his visions are different then it seems. Canon.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, or the work of J.K Rowling.

Authors Note: I split my chapters up into section, so if you leave in the middle of the story, you could just remember what section you were on and scroll down to it. Each section is separated by a line. Also looking for someone to beta for me.

Authors Note 2: CHAPTER HAS BEEN UPDATED. SOME REALLY IMPORTANT INFO ADDED. I BE STARTING THE SECOND CHAPTER NOW.

Section: 1

Harry woke up startled and doused in water.

"Dudley you bloody git!" he shouted as he reached across his cold and wet bed for his glasses. His bed felt larger today. He had to scoot over a couple of times before he reached his table side. He was soaked to a brim, every inch of him was cover with water.

That was weird, Harry noticed.

His table side was smooth, no indents or rough surfaces. It use to be filled with cracks and holes because Dudley didn't really have a care in a world, when it came to his own stuff. His parents, supporting his stupid ideal, would buy him new ones every single time he asked. However, now it didn't cause splinters every time his finger grace it and it wasn't harsh. He supported himself as he attempted to lean on his wall, when his hand slipped on his blanket.

His bed-sheets were different too. They were silk, frictionless and gentle on his palm, just like the Gryffindor dorm-rooms. His usual ones, supplied by no other than the Dursley's, were wool, just like carpets. They had to change overnight for this to be possible, which would have meant the Dursleys would have had pick him up, change his table side and his bed-sheets in the middle of the night, place him back under the sheets, and retreat to bed without making a sound to wake him. To do this, they first had to buy new things for Harry, which required them to be kind, something they lacked in doing for fourteen years.

Dudley, took him by surprise with his prank, as he was being nice and kind (as in leaving him alone) for the past few weeks. Harry sighed. He had hoped that the peace would last till he had to go back to Hogwarts for his sixth year when could leave Number Four, Privet Drive, for a whole year.

All good things have to come to an end, he reasoned with himself, to excuse Dudley's behavior. Dudley didn't need a better excuse then, why not?

"Who the hell is Dudley?" demanded a high pitch voice that was standing were Dudley was suppose to be. That didn't sound remotely like Dudley, comparing the voices was like comparing bumblebee and butterfly, two completely different things. As he palmed his glasses onto his face, wiping away the water that was dripping down onto his bed, he could finally see clearly. Harry couldn't mange to keep the look surprise off his face. Who he saw wasn't Dudley. It wasn't even a bloke. It was a young girl, with a bucket lying on the ground next to her, who looked puzzled.

"Harry, have you gone bloody wankers? Mum has breakfast ready, and you wouldn't wake-up!"

Mum?

His mother was dead, along with his father, at the hands of Voldemort, him being the only survivor of the attack, which ended up with him becoming an orphan. Surely, she meant her mother, a relative of the Dursley's. Her mother would have to be someone on Vernon's side of the family that Vernon lied about having, as his mother only had one sister, his aunt, Petunia. He straighten his back to get a better look at the girl.

She didn't look remotely related to the Dursley's. She wasn't very chubby or fat, her was red instead of black, her neck wasn't stretched out like a giraffe. Something about her was putting him off but he couldn't put his finger on it. A few seconds later, he was shocked. It was her eyes. They were exactly the same, just like his mother, bright green almond-shaped eyes.

"Harry, stare anymore and I'll think your starting to fancy your own sister. Big Bad, old, Harry going after poor little Violet," she teased, wagging her finger trying to provoke him into a fit. All though, Harry wasn't a person that a little teasing and joke made him angry. It took a whole lot more than that to anger him. There were moments in his life where people would avoid him, point and whisper rumors, lies that they have gotten from other whispers of Hogwart's students. Their had been moments were people thought he was a killer, a madman, a liar, the heir of Slytherin in his second year at Hogwarts.

The reason behind the joke was the staring had made her uneasy. He broke eye contact, stared down as his began to face flushed.

"Get decent and come down for breakfast, and hurry, I'm starving," her stomach growl and she scurry out of the room as fast as could to escape the awkwardness that had happen between them, and on the way, using her wand to pick up the bucket that was left there.

Her wand?

She was a witch!

A witch had came to his room and used magic. Not any witch though. This witch was claiming that she was his sister and was implying that "his" dead mother and father, who, were died, made breakfast and was waiting on him. They could be death eaters trying to confuse him and then kill him when he vulnerable, but why go to such long lengths? Even if they were death eaters, he could only be killed by Voldemort, due to the prophecy announced by Trelawney, his old divination teacher and Voldemort, because of blood wards, couldn't come within the property range no matter what.

However, things weren't making much sense as it is. The most recent thing he remember was, him taking a nap, but having trouble finding sleep, as the guilt of killing Sirius was eating him alive again. He had gone to save, prevent Sirius from being killed by the death eaters and ended killing Sirius, himself. The pain of the night was reminiscing, too painful to sleep that evening. Harry wished, that someone just waved their wand and Ta-Da! Everything was all better and Sirius was alive, not through the veil.

Were was his wand?

He needed it in case of trouble, or if he needed to signal for help from allies. As he got out of bed, stretching from his slumber, he notice his room didn't even slightly resemble Dudley's Second Room, from Privet Drive.

Quidditch posters of famous players seekers (One of Krum) and teams, hang up around the room, a large, stacked, pile of papers, which he assumed was unfinished Hogwarts homework handed to him to complete over the summer, was placed on his desk There were stacks of clothing, more than he had, maybe even more than Dudleys' clothes too, was everywhere. Magical pictures and books the Dursleys would burn if it cross their line of vision.

The quality of the room was better than Dudley's second room by a large margin. Everything in their was fancier and bigger, finer and not unusable. The only problem was the room was a mess, stacked upon another mess. It was hard to believe this was him, the person Violet believe him to be.

His wand was at his desk side, next to where his glasses was before he put them on. He pick it and attempted to put it in his back-pocket when he realized he had no back-pocket. He was only wearing his briefs and blush at the thought of that. He would never sleep without be fully clothed first, the first time he try to do so, Dudley had stolen all his clothes, (leaving stark naked) ran outside, down a couple of blocks, and threw them on a strangers house and ran away. He had to wrap the uncomfortable blanket around his waist, went to the kitchen, and explain what happen to Vernon.

Vernon had blamed him, It was his clothes after all, wasn't it? Harry had argued, It was your son who throw it, wasn't it? That cheek earned him no dinner (and breakfast for that morning) for a week.

As he scourged the room to find an article of clothing that wasn't cover in dirt or filth, ripped or torn, a wizarding robe emerged, embedded with the red Gryffindor symbol. He sighed with relief. He was still a Gryffindor, at least that much hasn't changed. He quickly put on his robes, place his wand in his back pocket and decide after breakfast he would search through the pile of mess.

He couldn't let these people get suspicious of him. He left his room and also realize the whole house was something else entirely. This wasn't Number 4 Privet Drive after all. He needed to get to breakfast, so he quickly located the grand staircase and went around in a spiral, and climb down them. What followed that was a hallway that seem to go on forever.

Section: 2

The house was gigantic, therefore; he was lost in the gigantic house. The hallway had magical picture of children, some he recognized which were of him and Violet. Others were of a group of adults, four male in most of them, some containing a female. The pictures had dictated that the people that owned the house, Violet and his supposed Mum and Dad, were once Hogwarts students. Along the hall there were shoes, next a "Welcome Home," mat. That was a interesting mat, as he had only seen it once, belonging to a squib, Mrs. Figg, in the muggle world.

On the right and left of the hallway's wall, were many entrance to a variety of rooms. As he peer in, looking for the kitchen to meet up with Violet and exploring in for his general curiosity, he entered his first room, which was on the left.

This room was a large library with hundreds of books, almost none on the shelf's, stacks of them on chairs and tables, and many littered on the floor, which were arranged in no particular order.

Another, a living room that bigger then all the bedrooms in the Dursley's house combined. It had three couches, meant for three people, but could mange more. One in the middle of the living room, two to the side of the main couch lined diagonally. There a couple of rocking chairs along with tables for each seat. Across the room was a mirror, that if you sat at any of the couches, you could see your reflection. Pretty vain of them. The floor was lined with marble, which felt ice cold as soon a your toe pressed against the marble.

Another entrance lead under the house, most likely a basement to house supplies, or a dungeon for a troll. You never know with a magical family. He still hadn't found the entrance for the kitchen as he wander the halls of Violet parents house. Being careful, turning his head, left and right, he continue onward.

"Harry, were the hell are you going?"

Harry stopped in his tracks. he would have past the kitchen if it wasn't for Violet, his "sister," calling him. He stopped and turned to where he heard Violet voice. Violet was sitting along a table with some eggs, toast, and milk setup for breakfast. A man that was reading the Daily Prophet, a magical paper, didn't notice that the milk he was sipping on was giving him a milk mustache which Harry laughed at. These people couldn't be death eaters, they were too dimwitted. The man, lower his paper to look at Harry, the person who was laughing at him. He realize soon enough, with the help of Harry's laughter and stares that he got a unwanted mustache. Using his forearm, he had wiped it away, giving Harry a big smile.

"So childish," Violet rolled her eyes at the display Harry had made.

The man, grinning like there's no tomorrow, who he assume was Violet (and his) father. He was astonished, he look exactly like the photos of his dad he had received from Hagrid. Messy black hair, face structure exactly the same as his a couple of year older. You could swear that Harry was him traveling back in time if it wasn't for his green eyes.

He astonishment was wiped with no traces left when Violet took note of his of nostalgia but said nothing about it, taking interest with her playing with her food again.

"Harry, we were waiting on you."

the lookalike said with a whistled putting his focus back towards the news article. Harry came to his senses and sat at the table next to Violet and across from his suppose-to-be father.

"Harry, that's your mum's spot," James told Harry.

"Still tried, eh?" James nudged Harry with his shoulder as a sign to get up.

"Sorry," he muttered as got up and moved to the seat across of Violet. A woman with stunning red hair and green eyes (just like his) came from the kitchen and sat down. James wife, Lily Potter, his mum, looked exactly like the photos. He, again (not unnoticed by Violet) couldn't contain the look of surprised, when she enter the room. Ironically, Violet took after Lily a decent amount, just like he took after James.

"Morning Harry, morning Violet, morning Honey," she cheerfully greeted us all.

"Morning hon,"

"Morning mum,"

"Morning Lily," Harry croaked, seeing his parents for the first time in person, fake or not, was a big deal. However, calling his mother by her name didn't go unnoticed. All the family members stopped and stare at to look at Harry like he shouted something very vulgar.

"Someone grumpy," James noted, taking his raising his head out of the paper, looking surprised.

"But it still doesn't excuse you for being rude to your mother," James added in afterword.

"Care to explain why your so grumpy?" asked Lily curious at his change of behavior. Harry was raking his mind, trying to remember a moment that would excuse his behavior, which had to be something they would know of. His mind was blank. All he could remember was memory's of the old world, the most recent being his dreams, which were useless in the current situation.

"Um, uh, u-uh u-

"I was irritated with him ALWAYS taking forever to get up, so I decide to give him a helping hand," Violet interrupting him with an eerie smile, coming to his rescue, giving a suitable excuse for him to use. James raised his eyebrow, wondering why Violet deliberately got herself into trouble for Harry.

"Is this true?" James questioned him. Not being able to find the words, I vigorously shook my head up and down, signaling yes.

"I'm not angry," Harry said shyly to no one in general, defending Violet while averting his eyes from his parents. This didn't seem to bring any shock to James. He assume that he might of be a protective brother. He hoped he wasn't too much a Ron.

Lily's brain was in someplace else, as she was looking at him, staring at his clothing.

"Proud of you Harry, starting to take after me, already excited and preparing for your third year at Hogwarts," Lily beams with joy.

Third year?

He last remember he had just completed his fifth year in Hogwarts. Dumbledore had just share the prophecy with him, after the battle of the ministry, after he had save it from Voldemort, killer of his parents, from being able to read it. He had failed to save Sirius though. Sirius was dead, gone, beyond the veil, and it was his fault that happen. Only if he hadn't gone to save Sirius.

A thought had busted through his mind. If his fifth year never happen, just like his parents death, Sirius should be alive and well! Even better, he should be welcome as my godfather!

His thoughts were interrupted as James had something to say on the matter of Hogwarts.

"You traitor! Who are you, and what have you done with my son!" James shouted in a playful manner, getting off his chair lifting Harry in the air, then placing him on the ground and started to tickle him. He couldn't breath, he gasping for air, dying of laughter at the fingers that probe him. Lily and Violet couldn't help but smile and laugh either. Violet, wiping tears from her eyes, and Lily, smiling. The anger, depressing thoughts he had, were gone, and replace with a great memory.

Was this what it was like to have a family?

If it was, he was truly happy to have something, that he was missing out, something, no one but Sirius was able to give him. However, Sirius only manged it for a short time, very short for him. He was glad for the first time since Sirius's death.

As James stopped his parade of terror, James got up, look at his paper and a few moments later scowled.

"Lily look at this! He escaped!" James told her with anger, while twisting the article so Lily could read it. Lily took the article out his hands and started to read it. A few minutes later, she lower it from her face. She looked very frighten at what she had read.

"Shouldn't it be impossible to escape from there? How the hell could he mange that? Do you think he's after us? The kids?" Lily said, biting her lip, with a combination of shock and worry.

"If he even takes a step into mine, yours, or the kids sight, especially after what he did to Wormtail, I'll kill him," James said with a growl.

Wormtail?

The fact that someone killed Peter should be a cause of celebration, for him at least. He was a no good rat, and would, had, betray his own very best friends. James was calling him by his Marauder's name, something Sirius refuse to do, as Sirius claim he dishonored the Marauder's name the minute he join the Death Eaters and he was disown by Marauder's. He had claim they had a vote on disowning Peter which went two (Sirius, and, Remus) -zero as Peter didn't bother to show up.

Hell, though, things have changed, here. His parents were alive, and maybe in this world, he didn't betray this Lily and James. Somethings must have change for his parents to be alive after all.

"Maybe Peter didn't betray them, but Sirius did." He almost laughed at the thought. Not on Voldemort's life he would ever trust Peter.

"Um, hello? Earth to Mum? Were sitting right here," Violet waved to help her point "Who's he? Why does he hate us and dad hate him? Who the hell is Wormtail?" Violet, was hitting the Potters with questions, like a boxer, throwing punch after punch.

"Violet, language!" her mother yelled sharply at an attempt to deflect the conversation. Violet just roll her eyes.

"You just said it first!" Violet shouted back.

"I'm an adult! It's different!" Lily shouted back at her.

"It's the same thing for a child!"

How do they get off topic so fast?

"Who escaped?" trying to bring the conversation towards to the topic before the outburst had happen.

"Sirius Black escaped Azkaban last night," James said, clenching his fists, trying to not to get frustrated, which he was failing miserably at.

"Isn't it impossible to escape from there?" Harry said trying to keep appearance up, and find more information about here, whenever here is.

"Not anymore apparently, according to the paper." James said with a sigh, while Lily rub her hand up and down his back trying to sooth him.

Black is the first to do so."

"And Black is?" Violet said with exasperation trying to understand the riddles her parents were speaking in.

"A cold-blooded murderer, and follower of You-Know-Who."

Harry was shocked. The claims were still the same. To the best of his knowledge, Sirius was framed here too. Sirius wasn't a killer though, Peter was. Just Peter was good at faking death. And framing innocent people.

It angered him that Sirius was still in Azkaban. Wasn't his best mate, James Potter, buddies till death, suppose to stand up for him?

"He kill one of my best mates, Wormtail, and thirteen muggles out of anger the night He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named died trying to kill Neville, Longbottom, The-Boy-Who-Lived," James completed with a sighed, he looked broken, the lost of his two best mates hurt him deeply.

Neville's The-Boy-Who-Lived?

He reached to forehead and move his hand around. He couldn't feel his scar on there. He had got it when Voldemort failed to kill him. The scar was a reminder, of what he had to do.

This time, Voldemort didn't go after the Potter's this time. They went after the Longbottom's first. He felt a pang in his heart for Neville. In both worlds Neville's parents were dead. At the same time, he was a tiny bit jealous of him. Who thought that he, or anyone, would ever be jealous of Neville?

Neville was an overweight clumsy, forgetful boy, bull-eyes for Slytherin hexes, and pity of the Gryffindors. he had proven himself at the Ministry of Magic that he didn't deserve pity that everyone gave him. He was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Still, Harry was no longer the-boy-who-lived anymore. He didn't know why he was jealous. Before he would have visions of another world, that he was no longer the-boy-who-live. Before, he wished for him to trade lives. Now he wasn't sure. Still his parents and sister, for his title is a good trade, right?

James turn towards his children, Harry and Violet, wiping emotion from his face, pushing back his chair standing tall and towering over them.

"The ministry is putting out warnings, about people being careful with Black on the lose. Blacks' crazy and no one knows what he'll attempt to do first. If you spot him, run to us or someone you can trust and tell them you saw Black. Just to be on the safe side though, no going out after dark, no more trips, doesn't even matter if it's to the backyard, without me, your Mum or an other adult supervising."

"Bu-

"NO BUTS," James yelled at Violet, "That's final," staring in Violet direction. It was weird, but the comment look directed only at Violet, not him.

"Lastly, if you see a dog, a large black dog, you run. You don't pet it, you don't cuddle it, you don't admire it, you run. When your safe, tellME," putting emphasis on me, "only. There will be repercussions if you go against me or mum." James slumped down in his seat, sighing. Violet looked like she wanted to laugh about running from the black dog, but was to afraid of doing so.

Violet didn't know that her father and Sirius, (assuming Peter too if that didn't change) became Animagi, to help Remus with his "Furry little Problem."

I wonder why James hasn't told the aurors, that Sirius was an Animagus.

"I just wished he would get kissed," James said dead serious.

Section: 3

Say that to a muggle, they would laugh. Say that to a wizard, it was a dead serious threat. Lily didn't say anything about James comment. Of course me meant the Dementor's kiss, the sucking away of the soul, not the peak on the cheek, cause to be peak on the cheek isn't a horrible thing (unless it's Umbridge, which is a totally different story).

But to hope for that to happen to a living being, was terribly cruel and heartless. To be around the Dementors was lik-

No, it was hell, with no happiness, no enjoyment, just sadness and hatred, but to be kissed, which was to be stuck in a state without a soul, nothing more then living, is a more horrible thing to wish upon a person then death, which is saying a lot.

Sirius hated the prison more than anything in the entire (other) world. He hated the sadness, the insane feeling he had while he was there.

"Ja-" almost let his first name slip off his tongue, "Dad, that's such the horrible thing to want, even if he's a criminal," or if he's innocent person that was framed, he added in his mind. That wasn't the right thing to say, as James turned and face him with utter shock. Which turn into outrage.

"So, a cold-blooded killer, that killed innocent people, one of which was his friend, should live?" James said coldly.

Friend? So they were friends in this world too before the incident. Incident. Such a nice name for something so cruel.

"No one, no matter how bad, should ever be subjected to the Dementors.

The frozen feeling, no happiness or joy, by being around them is horrible enough. Even worst, to have your soul taken away, which life is center around, and isn't life all about redemption? where's the redemption in that?" Harry answered defensively.

His family was staring at him, as they didn't know why he was acting up, but they seem more surprised about his intelligent argument. He prayed that he wasn't a dunderhead here. Bullocks, that would suck.

They were also surprised at him defending a known criminal, one they thought surely deserves the Dementors. They had no idea that he experience they Dementors firsthand and the horror of it.

"A person who did inhumane things to other people, deserved redemption, from his own medicine?"

Harry wanted to scream,

SIRIUS DIDN'T DO IT. PETER FRAMED HIM.

But he couldn't without looking insane. He took a deep breath.

"You would think it's even lower than inhumane, if you had experienced firsthand it's traumatizing effect on living being," Harry retorted.

"And you have?" James shoots back, and his eyebrows narrow with frustration and his face turn red with anger.

He couldn't say that he had experienced the Dementors, they wouldn't believe him, as he couldn't prove anything that had happen before this, whatever this was, was true. He couldn't prove, that the close thing he had to a father before this was innocent and didn't deserve death, much less the kiss.

"May I be excused?" Harry asked coldly, shoving plate forward. He look at his Dad for an answer, but his mother answer first.

"You may." and with that Harry walk away to his "new" room. He slammed the door shut. He had been with his parents less than a hour and he was already mad at them for things that aren't their fault.

"ARGH!" He screamed and throw a book, a Hogwart's one by the looks of it, at the wall. He took and deep breath and sat on his bed.

He took one look around his room and realize it was so filthy that Peter could live in it. It would take him forever to clean it and then organize it. He wonder if he did his Hogwarts homework yet. He likely didn't. He sighed. He might as well get it over with. He need something to take his mind off the confusing world, which he was taking pretty well, and his anger that his godfather was still in jail.

He slipped backwards on what appeared to a t-shirt, when his wand fell out of his back-pocket.

His wand.

This was a magical house.

He could do magic.

Violet did it this morning.

Things were about to get a lot easier.

Section: 4

Violet was worried. Her brother, shy, loving, timid, scared, dunderhead, has change in a matter of minutes to the exact opposite. This morning she had been playing a prank to get even with Harry for placing purple dye in her shampoo. Couldn't get the colour out till mum came home and charm it back. She had a love-hate relationship with colour that her name also meant, along with flower.

Everyone automatically assume that it was her favorite colour, which it is, but always people jump to conclusions cause she was a "girl."

A guy could like purple too.

Her brother, Harry, this morning called her, a bloke's name she never heard before. It wasn't a wizarding name either. Most likely a muggleborn's name he got from Hogwarts. He had no friends. I wasn't being mad or anything, it was the truth. The truth's sad.

No one really want to be Harry friend. They were nice to him, and pitied him, expect for those slimy Slytherins bastards. It was Violet who filled the role of a friend and did the various tasks like, helping him study, talking to him, encouraging him, helping him get through his most embarrassing moments. She was his only friend. She wasn't a very good one most of the time.

She wasn't and couldn't be there all the time. There were times, she needed her friends or her best friend, Ginny Weasley. Ginny, at first was stumped how I was friend's with my older brother, as she had one the same age, who was intolerable, annoying, and blunt. After meeting him, she claim he was only tolerable because Harry was the complete opposite of Ron in every single way.

She also couldn't always be with him because of her reputation. It looks weird when you hang out with your sibling all the time. It looks bad and people start to make fun of you, for doing something nice.

Harry once use to have a close friend, before they had a falling out. Surprisingly it was the-boy-who-live, Neville Longbottom. They became friends in the second year, when Harry's head deflated. March, Gryffindor chaser quit claiming Oliver was a pain in the arse ( which is true) and took Quidditch too seriously. The Gryffindor team held a tryout for the spot, which Neville encouraged Harry to go for.

Harry listened. And regret it ever since.

Harry's not really taken seriously, so when the word got out the Harry was going to trying out, almost half the school came. He was a nervous wreak. Harry can't really perform in front of people, the cap being four or five. In the middle of tryouts he got so distracted that crashed run into the Gryffindor stands. He sent three kids, including himself, to Madam Pomfrey for the whole night.

The school kept reminding Harry about his tryouts. Only at the end of the year people started to forget. Life was so much easier when you have some to blame, so he blame Neville. He said Neville pushing him to do it, to get him to embarrass himself. Neville didn't even defend himself. That was it of Harry first Friendship.

Harry had an uncanny ability to forget the most important of things, no matter how small or little. He never forget his family though. Him, Her, Mum, and Dad. Until now. It was like he forget who she was. Like a evil wizard had sneaked in during the night and oblivated him.

At first she thought it was a prank, he was just fooling her, to make her let her guard down, but when he put on his glasses, he stared at her with surprise, and to him, she was someone who he wasn't expecting. Violet realized he was serious about the name. He didn't remember her, didn't know her. She was a stranger to him. He kept staring trying to a name to the face, but couldn't. It was like he never knew her.

Violet had try to break the silence with an a joke which made it even more awkward than it was but broke the stare. He look at his room and Violet had realize he didn't even recognized the room itself, the one he never bother to keep clean for 13 years, as her mother claim house elf's made you lazy and no good, and she claimed she wasn't their maid. She had told him it was breakfast and ran off.

The stare of a stranger coming from Harry hurt more than it should. They were always at odds like all siblings, maybe even more so, especially like ones so close in age, but even though they would never admit it, they loved each other. She felt sick for even thinking about that, that her jerk brother, was a loved one. Well to her. He was a cocky, funny jerk who thought better of himself than others, and was plain rude. Till his first year before he was a bull-eyes for hexes and spells. Harry was useless when it came to magic, something he didn't know till Hogwarts. His head deflated faster than a balloon which had a disperse charm on it, and he became a shy, timid boy he is now. No one takes notice to him anymore. It doesn't seem like he has any friends for the matter.

Remus, my godfather, told me James, my dad, was like that till seventh year no matter how much he says otherwise. It's hard to image that James, Potter was a stuck-up git for seven years. Harry lasted three months.

When I made it down to the dining table, I sat in my seat and waited for a couple more minutes for Harry to turn up and start eating. They just had to wait for him cause it was rude to eat without all members at the table. Wasn't it more rude to keep everyone waiting?

Finally, Harry made it down-stairs, and finally we could start eating but he was about to walk past the dining room. He was turning his head left and right looking around. He doesn't even remember the house he grow up in? It was weird.

"Harry!" I called, and turned looking grateful that he didn't miss the kitchen. He came, took a seat, and looked astonished when he noticed Dad. The same thing happen when he noticed Mum. He accidentally called Mum (also Dad too) by her first name when talking to her. He wasn't even angry, or mad, or anything, it just looked like he wasn't comfortable to call his parents, mum and dad.

He was at lost for words when Dad confronted him. Feeling guilty, so I tattle on myself. The thing is, he would have naturally tattle on me the moment he saw Mum and Dad. That was a sibling thing. However, he wasn't even angry at her. It's like it's he's a totally different person after one night. Scary dreams he must have had to change him overnight.

He was wearing his school robes today too. This didn't need read to deep, as he was probably out of clean clothes. At the dining table, in the middle of conversations, he went into deep thought that Violet couldn't think Harry was capable of. Things kept getting stranger and stranger when James mentioned the breakout. How the Dementors were inhumane. Harry made an intelligent argument better than most human beings could, much less him. The kiss, was even more inhumane, even so for a criminal wanted for murder of his Dad's best mate.

Harry usually had his face so far up his parents ass, it was a wonder that he wasn't shit-face. Me and my parents were the only people that really cared about him. He acted like he had known what a Dementor felt like. It was more likely that he was turning into an hippie.

He had storm off into his room after than. She had to tell someone her suspicions, either Mum or Dad. Dad looked tired of argue with Harry, so, by the process of elimination, I decide to talk to Mum. I walk towards Mum put my hands up cover my mouth, and whisper,

"Could I talk to privately in the Kitchen?" She nodded her head, and start to walk towards the kitchen.

"Can I come too?" James asked jokingly. He was trying to lighten up the mood after the big fight between him and Harry. It was probably their first.

"Girls only, unless you want pink nails too," I said, while twirling my hair, biting my lip, acting innocent.

"Nah, I got to get to work anyways, Mad-Eye will have my head if I'm late again," James said, getting up and out of his seat and heading towards the fireplace.

"Isn't Rufus the head auror?" questioned Mum.

"Yep," said Dad popping the 'p' "he's called Mad," he was putting emphasis on mad, "-Eye for a reason," he informed us. He took a exaggerated step into the fireplace grabbed a handful of floo power, and threw it at the ground.

"Level Two Of the Ministry of Magic!" James shouted with a seriously look on his face that disappear with him. It didn't alert Violet at the moment for she had far more pressing matters. Mum looked distracted though when he left. He mind was in a different place and she hated to interrupt her, but she needed someone to tell about it.

Pulling Mum's hand towards the kitchen, breaking her train of thought, started walking again. In the middle of the kitchen, Mum proceeded to close all the doors and walk back up to her. She look at her and began to speak.

"Whats on your mind, my little flower?" asked Lily.

"Don't call me that." I protested. My little flower? Does she have to call me that? I not a child as much as she would like to believable. I'm old enough to write a book, which would be unreadable as my writing is horrible. She almost failed before her parents got her an automatic speech to text quill because her professors can't make out a word in my essays.

"Sorry," Mum apologized.

"So whats was so important that you need to tell me?"

I took a breath.

Section: 5

"Harry is acting very weird," I stated, "more than usually and he's Harry!" I point out with a loud voice. I informed her of all the weird things, no matter how stupid, how little, starting from the Dudley and weird acting when the Dementors where brought up. The name of Dudley cause recognition to appear on her face, but she didn't care to share with me cause I'm a wittle girl. Honestly, I'm not brain dead, my head still can retain information heard.

She put her hand onto my shoulder.

"Lit-" I stared at her with a harsh glare, and she got the message.

"Violet, thanks for letting me know, but he's a teenage boy," she acknowledged, "Your right he's changing, I noticed it too to some extent but it probably nothing. Just a phase maybe. Or he's starting to forget again. Still, I'll check on him in an hour or two and see how he's doing." She said it with a smile as if it wasn't as serious she made it out to be.

"Your care for your brother is lovely-" she was rudely cut off with Violet lightening speed reply.

"I don't care about him," Violet said with a peeved tone, crossing her arms and flipping her hair.

"If you say so," Lily said with a even bigger smile stretching across her lips.

"What do you mean, if I say so?" barked Violet with her face turning red.

"I mean you lovvvvve him," Lily admitted with laughter, clenching her stomach, hunch over, gasping for breath.

"I do not!" Violet denied with a shout, her face turning red and redder by the second. Even change Harry was ruining her life with the help of Mum and they wonder why Dad was her favorite. I don't like him! He a prick to her, rubbish in school, horrible at magic. Mum wasn't having her fun yet though. She had set the fuse, and she was going to light it.

"If you say so, my little flower." Mum was gasping for breath in between words. I exploded with fury and lashed out.

"I hate you!" I screamed clenching my fist and stomping my feet so hard they could break the floor-boards. I ran to my room not to fast like I was crying but quick enough not to let Mum have a word.

"Violet, I'm sorry!" Mum try to get attention, getting serious, realizing she took it too far, trying to go after her but it was too late. I slammed the door so hard that it didn't close properly the first time. I closed the door and retired to my bed, trying not to let the tears come to my eyes. I hated it when people made fun of me. My red hair and my green eyes don't go together, or I was named after a pathetic flower. Or, worst of all, the cruelest thing someone could say, to me, was Your Fat.

Someone calling me fat, is my Achilles's Heel.

When I was younger, I was a little bit chubby, as eating was a very reasonable thing to do. Something you had to do, and they were so many different types of ways to enjoying it. Sweets, meat, fruits, ice-cream were all too good to stop. It took a lot of teasing when she was nine for her to stop. She understood the harshness of the words when she was nine. The cruelty of them.

They called me ugly, fat, said no loved her, wonder how the broom she use didn't break yet. People she didn't even know, would whisper when she walked by. The blowing hit, the critical, was when a cute boy her age, she didn't even recognized, had whisper a little to loudly to his grandmother, bringing the whole stores attention to her, and said,

"She's really fat," in a tone was like reading a fact out of a book. Her parents whisk her out of the store, and went on home, telling her that the boy was lying, and she was the most beautiful person they knew. She knew that they were lying the moment it came out of their mouths. All those boys and girls, mums and dads, brother and sisters, couldn't be lying. She was ugly, she was fat to everyone. Her parents lied to her about being beautiful. Tears were streaming down her face and she was trying frantically to wipe them away, and stiffing a sob.

She hated being mad fun of. Her parents couldn't notice that night, she was too tried for dinner. It had started that night. Most nights she was too tried with dinner. Or she overslept breakfast on most mornings. Or she was out a lot for lunch with friends. The tears wouldn't stop coming no matter how hard she wiped. It had worked. She was skinny and pretty. She had so much self control to mange to do it. He parents were proud not knowing how she achieved it. She was always hungry. Tired, or sleepy. It was worth it though.

The door slowly opened and a figure stood outside of the door. She turn her back, to the door cover herself with a blanket so they couldn't see the tears. She calm herself, got her breath and said,

"Go away Mum! I hate you!" she growl with such a intensity you could swear she was a dog. The door made no closing sound. Barges in and doesn't even close the door? Parents.

She uncover herself from the blanket and got up to go for the door. Her eyes still of sound remains of the tears and her cheeks were red. However, someone was still there. The lights were on. It was obvious she had be crying. How would she explain this to Mum? She would blow it out of proportion. She wouldn't stop bothering me, tell all her friends who were mothers and father of her friends and would cave or let it slip. She would never live it down. It wasn't mother though.

It was a boy.

Harry.

His eyebrows narrow with worry.

He was worried about me?

Doesn't even bother to ask if I'm crying, or why I'm crying or runs off to let the whole wizardry world know like last time. He takes a step forward and hugs me deeply. I was like a sink. Harry turn me on, and I couldn't stop the tears that came. He was trying to sooth me and it was working. He calmly brushed his hand down my hair and just hugging me.

Why was he being so nice?

He always refused to hug me, and I did the same. We didn't want the cooties, was the dumb excuse we would always use.

The tears stopped coming one by one, less and less. I was tried from all this crying, all the thinking, and I started feeling woozy. My legs buckled by luckily Harry caught me and pull me back into a hug. Then he pick me up, cradling me with both hands and whispers comforting words.

When did he become so good at this?

He was clueless when it came to his feelings, much less others. He couldn't talk to the opposite gender without stuttering. His idea of comforting was bullock loads of ice cream, something I don't eat.

Harry was trying to her something, and she was trying so hard to make it out. Her eyes were getting droopy, and she was so tired, so she was struggling to understand Harry.

I just realized what Harry had said.

"Good Visions"

What the hell did that mean?