Disclaimer: I dream of being a werewolf. I want to own a unicorn. Does that sound like the genius behind Harry Potter to you?

June, 1985

Harry Potter was very good at several things. At five years old, he could cook anything you wanted, weed the garden and navigate the lawn mower—no mean feat when you take into consideration the fact that the machine was 4 times his size. But for all this, his relatives hated him.

His awards for doing all this from his Aunt and Uncle? Beatings, starvations, and being locked in the cupboard under the stairs while his cousin Dudley got two rooms for himself. Not that Harry minded—to him, this was normal.

Amber the Orphan was also five years old. She was good at several things too. She was good at pick-pocketing, stealing and shop-lifting. She could also fly, transform into a wolf cub at anytime she wished to, and perform magic wandlessly.

Her awards? Living in the entrance to magical Knockturn Alley from the equally magical—but less evil—Diagon Alley. Having to fight for every scrap of food she received, either honestly or by less then legal means. Living outside summer, fall and winter. Of course, Amber thought nothing of this—this was normal.

Neither was aware of their destiny, nor that they were fated to cross paths. Not until Amber decided to explore Muggle London—a place she was as familiar with as anything. Flying around, she found herself in a new place—Little Whinging. Flying around the area lead her to discover a small boy in the backyard of a house, pulling weeds.

Coming in for a landing, she observed from afar as the boy expertly pulled weeds, never seeming to mind the hot sun, or the bruises and cuts on his bare arms and legs. He was small, barely even her age, with messy raven hair and the greenest eyes she had ever seen—although they were hidden behind large glasses that held a lot of tape around the middle—supposedly to keep them from falling apart.

Taking a deep breath, Amber decided to make her approach. Easing her way up to him, she asked, seemingly out of the blue,

"Why do you stay?"

Harry jumped about 2 feet in the air, before landing and whirling to face her. He stared at the winged wolf girl that stood before him, staring at him inquisitively.

"Why do you stay?" she repeated.

"I don't have anywhere else to go, and Uncle Vernon says the orphanages are really bad places for freaks like me to be."

"Some of them are. Some of them aren't. Depends on where you're placed. I was happy in an orphanage once, but then it burned down and I was placed in a bad one. But I ran away."

Ah yes, forgot to mention that both were far too smart for your average five-year-old, didn't I?

"Oh. Guess Uncle Vernon was trying to scare me. He hates me."

"You are magic. So am I. That's why they hate you. They aren't."

"Magic?"

"You can make stuff happen. Like this." Then she proceeded to close her eyes and make the weed he'd been trying to pull out vanish.

Harry's eyes were wider then they'd ever gone. Then he realized what the strange girl was saying. He could do this stuff too!!

"Why do you stay?" And they were back to that again. Only this time, it was elaborated. "Come with me. Its hard pickings, but its better then here."

Harry considered the offer. The girl was a skinny as he was, but she was bruise free. Not like him. Never like him. His "Family" really hated him. Wherever she lived, it HAD to be better then here.

"Okay. But how do I get my stuff without Aunt Petunia noticing?"

"Magic. Concentrate on it appearing without anyone but us the wiser that it moved."

Closing his eyes, brows furrowing in concentration, Harry suddenly found himself holding a blanket and a worse for the wear teddy. Amber nodded.

"Hand them over." Confused, Harry did so and watched as the items and Amber's hands were encased in a glowing pink light. When it faded, Amber was left holding an obsidian charm shaped like some strange winged horse. It had bat wings, blank white eyes made from pearl and was skeletal.

Amber took no notice at first, busy plucking a long piece of grass and changing it into a sterling sliver chain, which she infused the charm on. Looking at it, she raised an eyebrow.

"A thestral?"

"What's a thestral?"

"A winged horse said to be bad luck because you can only see them if you have seen death."

Amber reached around Harry to clasp the newly made necklace.

"This allows you to carry your stuff easier. I've also made it so that it will protect you, and only we can remove it. Now, you ready to get out of here?"

And that was that. Amber the Orphan and Harry Potter left, never to been seen again by the residents of Little Whinging. Not that anyone minded. After all, most them weren't even aware Harry existed.

And life continued on.

September 1st, 1991.

Harry Potter tugged nervously at the obsidian thestral that hung around his neck. Sitting atop the train normally known as the Hogwarts Express, he was both nervous and excited. Given that the only other person atop the Express was his sister, he was also bored. The necklace, one he had received at age five, offered him some comfort.

Harry's sister, Amber, was idly playing with her own necklace, a crystal wolf with topaz eyes, and bright gold wings. The necklace hung on a beautiful sapphire chain, and looked completely expensive—more then they could afford, given the state of their clothing. It hadn't cost a dime, because it wasn't bought at any store.

Amber had made these necklaces, and charmed them to protect the wearer always. Only Harry and Amber could remove the jewelry, and it was not even real jewelry—the charms were actually treasured mementos, the chains actually pieces of grass. However, carrying teddy bears and picture albums while you are living on the streets tends to be tedious at best. It was easy to cart them around in a simpler form.

It was a sunny afternoon, a gentle summer breeze playing along; even through the rush of air that was the train's slipstream. Harry's raven hair—now shoulder length and less messy—blew out behind him some. Amber's strawberry blonde locks were longer, down to her waist, and fanned out behind her like the train of a wedding gown.

Amber's wings were arched to allow her to easily move with the train's slipstream, and her silky black tail wagged some, causing the sterling silver tip to glint when it caught the light. Her ears, white where the tail was black, swayed gently in the breeze.

"So, how to you want to go about this? Just follow the first years, or slip in when nobody is around to see and hang in the rafters until our names are called?"

Harry looked at his sister of 6 years and smirked.

"Why, hang in the rafters, of course. We can cause stronger heart attacks that way."

"You, DH, are evil. Simply evil."

"And like you're not?"

"Never said I was, did I?"

"Good. Because you are eviler then me, DS, and don't you forget it."

"Why would I? I wouldn't have any fun if I did."

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was where the train was headed. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry thought Harry Potter was dead. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was going to play host to a dead boy of 6 years. And his winged werewolf-born sister, who was herself the last of a long line of purebloods also thought dead.

Oh boy.

Never mind that they had taken on nicknames of the most interesting kind—Harry was DH, short for Death Horse, while Amber was DS, short for Dipped Sliver—or that they had grown up on the streets of the magical and muggle world and knew all about the Boy-Who-Lived, Savior Harry Potter.

In fact, Harry and Amber had a fifth year education that was all self-taught. And they were eleven years old. Well, it does help that they stole all the proper reading materials at age 7, I suppose.

And they were capable of wandless magic—amongst other things.

Like I said before, oh boy.

When Harry Potter and his sister got done with Hogwarts, they would never know what hit them. Let us hope they at least leave the castle the school was held in standing, even if they forced the entire staff to be replaced. After all, they would undoubtedly be causing a lot of heart attacks. And choking on drink or food.

Merlin bless the souls who survive. And may they be the better for it.

Hogwarts was in for one heck of a school year.

And done. At quarter to two in the morning. Now to post this….