What up, peeps? I'm now putting up the chapters again, but these were beta'd by the wonderful wildwolffree17. Thank you again so much, my darling! People you HAVE to go and read her stories, they are amazing!Thanks to those of you who reveiwed, your support means soo much! Especially you Roxxy! On to the story!

Chapter One

Patricia Honora Matthews Halliwell was used to being disregarded by demons; after all why bother with the youngest and weakest when there was the rest of the family to go after, right? What she wasn't used to was being compared to her siblings by her teachers—especially one she'd considered her favorite.

Her fingers itched to blow something up as Mrs. Whitfield, her history teacher, continued to prattle on about how if she only put effort in her work, Patricia could be as good as her oldest sister, Paris, was. You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what a controlling, cocky, pain in my ass dear Paris is, she thought, biting her lip hard.

"...now, Patricia, I'm not saying this to hurt you, but you could have done much better on this test than a C. Paris never got anything below Bs on her tests, and she—"

Patricia stood up from her seat, causing Mrs. Whitfield to jump slightly. The young witch put a fake smile on her face, reaching out to take the test clutched in Mrs. Whitfield's hands. "Mrs. Whitfield, I know you only have my best interests at heart, but I really have to go. My cousin is picking me up and he gets impatient if I take too long." Okay, well that was a lie. Her cousin, Wyatt, had more patience than the rest of their family had all together. Chris had definitely inherited his mother's temper, but Wyatt was more like her Uncle Leo: understanding and calm—unless of course you went after someone he cared about. Then you might as well sign your death warrant. But the twenty-four year old would be worried if she didn't get to him soon. School had already let out and the building was emptying. "Maybe we could continue this tomorrow morning in homeroom?"

Mrs. Whitfield sighed, handing Patricia her test. "Alright, tomorrow morning. Have a good evening and say hello to Paris for me." The middle aged woman smiled at her and Patricia resisted the urge to blow it off her face. Instead, she returned the smile, waved goodbye, and walked out the door as fast as she could. Once outside in the almost empty hallway, Patricia's honey-brown eyes fumed with anger. She was tired of people comparing her to her older siblings and cousins. Wasn't it enough that she got it from the magical community, but now she had to deal with it in her everyday life, too?

Patricia sighed, running her hand through her dark hair in frustration. Did she have an inferiority complex or what? Then again, could anyone really blame her? She had been born into the most powerful family of witches the world had ever seen. Her mother was Paige Matthews, the youngest Charmed One and the leader of Magic School; her aunt Phoebe Halliwell was middle Charmed One and renowned advice columnist; and Piper Halliwell, the eldest Charmed One, owned one of the hottest club in San Francisco and the it restaurant in town, Quake. Not to mention, she was the mother of the Charmed Sons, Chris and Wyatt, the most powerful good forces of magic. Then there was Uncle Leo, an Elder, and Uncle Cole, the ex-Source and demon Belethazor. And there were her other cousins to add—Prue, Polly, and Paula, Aunt Phoebe's three girls and half of the new Power, along with her older siblings Paris, Pandora, and Sam.

The Elders had found yet another prophecy(big surprise there) that spoke of the Charmed One's kids. Instead of the Power of Three, prophecy foretold the Power of Six: Phoebe and Paige's children would make up this new power and together with the Charmed Sons, help good defeat evil.

No one had expected Patricia; it was even a surprise to Paige when she learned she was pregnant again. But the Elders had paid no heed; they told the Charmed Ones that Patricia would play no part in the destiny of the Power of Six. That, added to the fact that Patricia was the 'baby' of the family, meant she was always underestimated and usually overlooked. Demons didn't bother with her and the Elders were no better, and it pissed Patricia off. Just because she wasn't part of the Power of Six or a Charmed One didn't mean she didn't have power.

Being half whitelighter, she could orb and had both forms of telekinesis. She'd inherited Phoebe's premonitions and levitation, and Piper's molecular combustion. Patricia even had a special form of telepathy that not only allowed her to read minds, but people's emotions, as well. She could remember what a pain it had been to master in the first place, and if she didn't keep a tight leash on it, it could still take the better of her. But, of course, that didn't make a difference to anyone.

Reaching the door leading to the front of the school, Patricia spied Wyatt getting ready to get out of his car and look for her. Around him, girls drooled and Patricia rolled her eyes. All her friends tended to get like that if Wyatt and Chris entered a room, but she couldn't blame them. Wyatt was tall, nearly 6'4", with a broad and muscular frame, short blonde hair, and kind blue eyes. He was a golden boy and excelled in sports, but was a goofy teddy bear once you got to know him. Strange, since he worked as a detective for the police with his godfather, Darryl Morris. Patricia loved him dearly, but being the oldest he was extremely protective and it annoyed the hell out of her when he gave the third degree to any guy he found her talking with. Chris was much calmer when it came to things like that, but if he didn't approve of the person you might as well kick them out the door. Chris' opinion mattered a lot to everyone in the family.

Still, Wyatt was her favorite cousin and she knew she could get away with murder when it came to him.

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Wyatt smiled when he saw his baby cousin walking toward him. Of all his cousins, he had a soft spot for Patricia. It may have been because she was the youngest, but since the day his Aunt Paige had brought her home from the hospital and he'd looked into her big doe eyes, he'd known Patricia would always have a special place in his heart and he couldn't help but think of her as the cute little girl that'd followed him around when she was younger.

"Hey, what's up, cuz?" he asked as Patricia finally reached him.

Patricia smiled warmly at him, shaking her head. "Nothing much, Wy. Where are the others?" The 'others' being Paris, Pandora, and Sam. It was Wyatt's turn to pick them all up from school, while Phoebe's youngest, Polly and Paula, were getting a ride from a friend.

"Paris and Pandora left with a few friends and Sam's at the library for some project or other." Paris and Pandora were twins and you hardly ever saw one without the other. Sam took his studies seriously, both educational and magical, and was usually found in the library.

Patricia couldn't help but be glad: she liked to be alone with Wyatt because it gave them a chance to talk and relax without anyone else vying for his attention. "Cool." She climbed into the car, Wyatt slipped back into the driver's seat.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Wyatt pulled out of the high-school parking lot. "So, how was your day really?" Wyatt asked finally.

Patricia sighed, staring out the window. "Utterly fine until Mrs. Whitfield had to screw it all up."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. That was odd, seeing as he knew the history teacher was his cousin's favorite. Heck, she'd even been Wyatt's favorite and he hated history. "What'd she do?"

"Oh, just compared me to Paris," Patricia said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Wyatt quirked his eyebrow again. Patricia had been spending way too much time with his baby brother. She pulled a paper out of her jacket pocket, showing it to him without turning. It was a test, and on it in big, red marker was a C.

"Ahhh..." Wyatt sighed with understanding, turning his eyes back to the road. Paris had always been a perfectionist in everything, from her powers to school. He'd heard Mom and Aunt Phoebe talking about how much she reminded them of Prue, their deceased sister.

Unfortunately, that meant Paris tended to show up Patricia in just about everything. He knew she didn't mean to, that it was just in her nature, and she loved her sister, but it caused a lot of fights between the two. Patricia usually went to Chris when she was feeling worthless and ignored. Chris had a lot of experience with an inferiority complex from his other self's life. Their parents had told them the whole story of the other Chris and what he'd accomplished and how proud they were of him. Chris had even been receiving memories from that life since he was fourteen. It had been hard for Wyatt to accept that he'd been evil in another time line and that he'd purposefully hurt the brother he adored with all his being, but Chris had helped him through it and Wyatt knew that he didn't blame him for what had happened. Chris knew what it felt like to think yourself powerless and not worth much, and he always found time to help Patricia

"Is this gonna put you in a bad mood for the rest of the day?" Wyatt asked.

Patricia shrugged, "Maybe. So what?"

"Alright, Butterfly, what does big cousin have to do to make ya feel better?"

The young witch smiled slightly. Since she was a little girl Wyatt had always called her his Little Butterfly. The family found it cute and Wyatt was the only one she allowed to use the nickname. "Well, unless you can suddenly make the magical and mortal world realize I am worth something, than, no, you can't."

Wyatt sighed, but didn't bother disagreeing with Patricia. He'd learned a long time ago that when Patricia got in a mood like this there was no point in arguing. She'd just ignore you and sulk, or go straight to Chris.

"How bout we stop to get ice cream before we head home?"

Patricia glanced over at him. "Oreo? And not a cone; I'm talkin' pint here."

The Twice Blessed rolled his eyes at her, a small grin playing on his lips. "A pint it is."

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The Halliwell Manor hadn't changed much over the years, at least on the outside. A new paint job here or there, a playground for the kids in the backyard, but other than that nothing changed about the old Victorian house. Yet no one could explain how the entire Halliwell clan, their husbands and children, managed to live all together in the house.

The answer was simple really (to the magical community anyway). Piper had allowed Leo to magically extend the house. Piper, Leo, Chris, and Wyatt lived in the 'main' part of the house, Chris with Phoebe's room and Wyatt taking Paige's old room. Phoebe and her family lived in the 'west' wing, Phoebe and Cole with their own room. Their daughters had rooms down the hall, Prue across the hall and Polly and Paula next to each other. Cole even had a small study to work on his cases (he was one of the most sought after lawyers in California), and Phoebe had a room to work in when she stayed home. Paige and Henry were in the 'east' wing, of course with their own room. Pandora and Paris shared a room across the hall from their parents, and Sam, the only other male in the house insisted on having his own place away from his female relatives and lived in the basement that had been turned into a comfortable living space.

Patricia's room was down the hall from her sisters and had a window overlooking the backyard. She'd taken the time, when she'd hit her teen years, to decorate as she saw fit. Patricia had acquired an odd taste in cherry wood and antique pieces that stood out sharply against the basic teen tendencies of band posters and the latest gadgets and school books. A chest of drawers was set against one wall, littered with the little make up Patricia wore and a jewelry box of old oak that Piper had given her; it'd belonged to her great-great-grandmother Penny. There was a window-seat in front of the window, comfortably furnished in blue and yellow cushions where Patricia liked to sit and just think; it was sort of her spot, like Leo and Chris had the Golden Gate Bridge.

Next to her queen-sized four poster bed(decorated in blue and yellow) was a small cherry wood desk and chair where Patricia usually did her homework, and another larger chest of drawers scattered with random pieces of jewelry and antiques. Against the far wall was a bookcase Uncle Cole had put in for her, filled with books, a case of her favorite CDs, and her ipod; and the small bedside table next to her bed held candles of incense and a small book on karma—Phoebe's influence. Her room, to quote Aunt Phoebe, described Patricia as an "old soul that likes the simple things in life".

Pint of Oreo ice cream in hand, Patricia dropped her messenger bag onto the floor by her door. She headed to her 'thinking place,' plopping onto the window seat and gazing out the window. She sighed, sticking a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She was still "sulking" as Wyatt liked to call it (Patricia, however, called it 'pondering') about Mrs. Whitfield. She knew it was hopeless and wouldn't change a thing, but what else could she do?

A knock on the door made Patricia turn and her father popped his head into the room, blue eyes landing on her. "Hey, Patricia."

Strangely enough Henry was the only one who called her by her full name, unless she was in trouble. Everyone else called her Patty (never 'Patts,' she hated that) or Trish (call her 'Trishy' and die), or in her older siblings and cousins case, any form of "cuz" or "baby sister." But Henry had always treated her differently then her sisters and brother. There was always a... distance between the two, like he didn't want to really be around her. Whenever he told her "I love you," Henry never looked into her eyes and Patricia had the distinct impression he only said because he had to.

"Just wanted to let you now that your mom is gonna be a little late for dinner tonight. She's got a meeting at Magic School." It wasn't unusual for Paige to be held up at the school; being the principal, it was her job to make sure the building ran smoothly. Except for Wyatt and Chris, all the Halliwell children went to Magic School for lessons three months out of the year. To the mortal world they were just being home schooled.

"Okay, Dad." Henry nodded, leaving and closing the door behind him. Shaking her head, Patricia turned her eyes back out the window where Sam and Wyatt were playing tag football against Leo and Chris. Smiling at the sight of Chris using telekinesis to throw the football over his brother's head, she orbed her bag to her, digging through it until she found her iPod. As she was sticking the headphones into her ears, there was a sudden crash from downstairs and Patricia heard someone scream.

Demon.

With that thought, Patricia orbed downstairs, ice cream and music forgotten.