Okay, so where am I going to start?

So first of all, I am not making any money with this. Also, (almost) all the characters, the entire world, it all belongs to JKR. Even main parts of the plot.

Second, I am in need of a beta reader, as this is my first story and English is not my native language. So, yeah, if you would like to help me, just PM me.

Thirdly, reviewers are always welcome.

Fourth, I try not bash anyone and be as original and exact as possible. If you find that I am not doing that, just PM me or review.

Fifth, there will be romance, but only later on. I haven't decided on Pairings yet, but I have a few in mind.

Little Whinging was a rather boring place. With its identical looking houses, neatly trimmed front gardens and perfectly roamed streets, this small suburban south of London was radiating dullness and normality.

That was… with a few exceptions.

In Lavendish Lane, there was a reclusive elderly man, swearing at anybody coming near to his house.

In Wisteria Walk, a woman named Mrs. Figg lived with multiple cats and drew attention on herself with rather unusual dressed visitors.

But the most notable exception resided in 4,Privet Drive. On the first glance, a seemingly normal family lived in the rather pompous and almost sterile house. Vernon Dursley worked at a company named Grunnings as manager, while Petunia Dursley cleaned the house, the garden and looked after their son. Said son, a 10-year old boy named Dudley, was their entire pride and subject of affection. But they weren't the only residents of the house. With them lived the daughter of Petunias deceased sister.

Euphemia Rose Potter was the same age as Dudley, but contrary to her cousin anything but normal. Scrawny and small for her age, with knubbly knees, long messy black hair and bright green eyes. A scar, from the left of her temple to the middle of her forehead was etched into her skin, shaped like a lightning bolt and hidden by a fringe.

But it wasn't the unsettling colour of her eyes or the unique scar marring her face that let her stand out from the other citizen of Little Whinging - it were all those strange this she was able to do. Secure in her room, when nobody was watching, her writing desk would levitate in the air and the light bulb at the ceiling would flacker when she blinked.

With every year passing, normal children would believe less and less in magic. Euphemias faith grew with every year.

To be honest, she wasn't even sure when she realized what she could do. For her, her abilities were always there. To cheer her up as mere toddler, when her aunt ignored her. To protect her, when Dudley was mean to her. But slowly she came to realize that she would be punished by her relatives when those unnatural things happened. How they locked her in the cupboard under the stairs when the entire kitchen was drowning in chocolate pudding. How they would yell at her and call her freak when all plugs exploded. And how… almost decent they were when nothing happened. Realizing that, Euphemia locked her abilities away from other people, hiding them and only exposing them when she was alone. It wasn't a sudeen change, but slowly she learnt to control her outbursts and over the years gained a better self control than quite a few adults.

When her magical outbursts lessened, the Dursleys started to warm up to her. At 8, they gave her a real room for herself. Instead of Dudley hand-me-downs she received own clothes (which might also be because her school required her to wear the girls and not the boys uniform). She was allowed to join the cricket school club. On her birthdays, a few presents would lie under the table.

Euphemia wasn't spoilt like Dudley was, but mostly left alone. And hidden in her room, she would practice her magic. She would curl up at the back of the library, reading stories about magic, trying the same later at home.

In school, she was quiet and observant. Dudley usually left her alone, because she was a girl and his cousin, and proceeded to bully the other children. She didn't really care most of the time- after all, Dudley would run to his parents and then she would be in trouble too - but sometimes she helped to cheer the kids up after a few particularly bad fights.

She found a few friends, but with none she shared her secret. She once did this horrible mistake- and two years later Stupid Sarah York still called her a liar and attention seeker. Her magic was her treasure, hers alone. So all over, Little Whinging most notable exception adapted herself quite well to its dominant normality.

It was on a rather hot day in July 1991 when something truly astounding happened. The holidays started already, and Euphemia didn't really know what to do. Most of the time,or so her relatives thought, she was either strolling around in the neighbourhood or had her nose stucked in some book.

May Peterson and Sandra Jason, her classmates and closest friends, were both on holidays; May went to her grandparents in Wales and Sandra with her parents to Northern Italy.

A part of her missed them, as she wasn't sure how often she would see them soon. Sandra would go to a posh private school in the heart of London, while May would attend the local high school.

After her favourite teacher proposed it, Euphemia applied for a boarding school in Northern England. The school was not nearly as fancy as Sandra's, but still maintained a good reputation. Most importantly, they offered a special scholarship for children with good grades and a difficult family situation. Considering she was an orphan and one of the best in most subjects, she qualified for both. Honestly, she didn't particularly care about her school. As long as she could practice her magic and would be away from tedious Little Whinging, she was happy.

But this didn't mean that her holidays were any more exciting.

Sometimes Euphemia would help her aunt in the garden, Petunia gifting her a grimace - maybe a twisted smile? - as reward. Other times, the neighbour's children and she would race each other in the streets. But most of the time, she practiced her magic, conjuring flames in her hand and transforming petals into butterflies.

But on this certain hot day in July, she didn't do anything like that.

It happened in the morning, when the Dursleys and Euphemia were eating breakfast. The day had been very normal indeed so far: The milkman brought the milk, Petunia prepared breakfast, Euphemia set the table. Vernon read the newspaper, while Dudley strutted around in his new uniform. He would go to Smeltings, the same school Vernon went to.

The mailman brought the post and this would be the moment when Euphemia life would be turned upside down.

Vernon perked up from his newspaper, his eyes squinting when he heard the familiar noise.

'Mia, get the mail', he grunted.

Euphemia glowered at her nickname.

'I am sure after consuming such an astounding amount of bacon, Dudley should be more able to get the mail.'

'Dudley, get the mail.'

'Mia should get the mail!'

Vernon jerked his head towards her and after an angry glance towards her uncle, Euphemia got up.

Discussing with her uncle and her cousin was pointless.

With her head held high she walked to the mail and picked it up. A card from Vernon's sister, two bills… And a letter for Euphemia. She looked at it closely. The envelope laid heavy on her hand, and in green ink it said:

Euphemia R. Potter

Smallest Bedroom

4, Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

The girl turned the letter around, but instead of the name of the person who sendt it, there was just a wax sigil, a H surrounded by a lion, a badger, an eagle and a snake.

She traced the sigil, wondering.

'Hurry up girl!' A yell came from the kitchen.

Her head jerked upwards and she looked at the letter cautiously.

Who was the sender? And why did they use a bloody sigil? And what would Vernon and Petunia say when she got a letter from an unknown person? No… The letter would stay a secret for now.

Swiftly, she stuffed the letter in to the pocket of her dress and rushed to the kitchen. Uncle Vernon looked at the mail briefly, before muttering a swear word under his breath.

Breakfast went on like usual, but Euphemia couldn't stop thinking about the letter.

Maybe it was the library, demanding books back? But she didn't even lend books the past weeks.

Or Sandra or May, sending her letters. Yes, such a fancy letter, that was Sandra's style. But how did she know that Euphemia had the smallest bedroom? Lucky guess, maybe. There is an explanation. There has to be.

When breakfast was over, the black-haired girl almost jumped out of the door, running to the park a few blocks down the road.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she ripped the letter open. With shaking hands, she took two pieces of the heavy paper - or was it actually parchment? She didn't know for sure- out of the envelope.

The one was some sort of list, but the other one was a letter:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Potter ,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

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

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Euphemia looked at the letter, stunned, her mouth opened and her eyebrows furrowed together. School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Did that mean she was a witch, a sorceress? And were there others who could do the same things she could do? This thought caused a strange sensation in her stomach. And what was a Supreme Mugwump?

No, it has to be a joke, she thought. There was no way that somebody could knew about her abilities.

Maybe a prank from Sarah York, or Dudley?

But Euphemia knew that neither Sarah nor Dudley could put in enough effort to produce such a letter when they tried to. So what did that mean?

She read the letter again, forcing herself to read every word. She should send a reply by her birthday. Per owl. She knew that there were owls in the Londoner Zoo, but they couldn't mean that, right? But it was about her magic-she had to try.

Running back to Privet Drive, she realized that maybe there was another hint. If they really wanted her to use an owl, maybe they did the same? When Euphemia stopped at the entrance, she looked around.

Where would she sit if she was an owl? A frown appeared on her face, as she thought about that. Maybe in a tree?

And indeed, she was correct: On a branch of a birch, there was an owl, eyeing her curiously with its big, yellow eyes.

The girl stepped closer, careful not to make an abrupt move. The owl almost looked amused, puffing up her brown feathers. When she was almost directly near the owl, she whispered a quick : 'Wait for me, okay?' And maybe it was just Euphemia imagination, but the owl seemed to understand.

She went back inside, hurrying up the stairs to her room and closing her door behind her.

So there was an owl. If there was anything to convince her that this wasn't a joke, than it was an owl sitting in her garden.

She breathed in loudly when she sat down at her desk. A reply it is. She grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and thought about an appropriate answer.

Dear Mrs. McGonagall…

Okay, so a few differences are already notable here. Why I changed the Dursleys treatment to femHarry? Simply: they would have treated a girl different than a boy.

I am against treating boys and girls differently, but this is are the 1980s in a conservative British suburban, and the narrow-minded Dursleys we are talking about.

In my opinion, the treatment from the Dursleys probably wouldnt have been extremely different at the beginning, but it's likely that Petunia would have been the one punishing her niece, as on Vernon Dursley's mind, taking care of girls is a woman's job. This means: less of a rough treatment, but probably more yelling and emotional abuse.

In school, teachers might have intervened if Dudley starts to hit a girl, as 'boys will be boys' but 'boys mustn't hit girls'. And femHarry is allowed to bring good grades home and less prone to be called a troublemaker because 'girls are well-behaved and on on' (Not my opinion, but likely the one of the Dursleys)

But what does that mean? FemHarry will be accepted at her primary school a bit more than her male counterpart. Most of all, she is able to realize that she can be loved and appreciated outside of the Dursleys reach and begins to ask questions why, leading her to control her magic way earlier than Harry did.

Because her magical outburst disappear, the Dursleys start to accept her, as they don't view her as a threat to their reputation and normality. Not completely, as she is still reminding Petunia of Lily, but she is not abused.

Because of that, she actually applied for a different school, has a friends in the muggle world and is allowed to go to the library regularly.

Her entire different upbringing changes her personality quite a bit from Harry's. Not that much by now, but it will progress when the time goes on.