Disclaimer - Ok, let me spell it out plain and simple for everybody. I will say this once and once only and it applies to me for the rest of my life. I do not own or claim to own the characters, ideas, places, etc. or anything related created by the brilliant mind of J. K. Rowling. Get it? Got it? Good. Cuz that's the only time I will ever say this. So speak now or forever hold you peace. silence Good! On with the fic!

Author's Notes: Hold up! One more minor interference before the fun begins. I want everybody to know that this is an alternate universe fanfic so please, please, PLEASE do not hold it against me that the characters may be, well, out of character! Different circumstances and events have changed them and I have added a new character. She is all mine. I mean that. ALL MINE. (And no...she doesn't get Malfoy. I think.) Read, Enjoy, and...Review!

- Prologue - Chalix - Let the Dreams Speak -

Through the Veisieve Glass

Very few wizards hold the knowledge of how to apparate another person without transporting themselves, especially without splinching that other. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your view, I was the 'victim' of such an act.

Ten years ago, I was in the house of James and Lily Potter. Now you're giving me a quizzical look, "Wait, Potter?" you ask. Yes. The famous Potters. Their son, Harry, and I were constant play mates. We were only a year old, but we forged a fast friendship at our young age.

The night Lord Voldemort attacked? I was there. I saw it happen. Don't believe me, do you? Why should you? Either I should be dead or just as famous as that funny haired 'boy who lived.' Right? Well I think you're wrong. There are just a few details that were left out of the story. Me being one of them.

See, when Lord Voldemort arrived at the Potter's residence, most everything went according to the tale as most people tell it. First mistake comes in when Lily sacrificed herself to save Harry. There wasn't only one life involved. No, she saved two, Harry's and mine.

When it was only the three of us left, the Lord Voldemort, Harry, and I, the Dark Lord came to me and picked me up in his arms, unharmed. He wouldn't kill me. Not when I could be so important to the outcome of the Last War - the one prophesied to end with a battle between the Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter. Here is another piece of the history that's forgotten. Not only was my existence unknown to almost all the wizarding world, so was the second prophecy, the one pertaining to me.

The one with the power to determine whose glory approaches

a pawn of decision, hidden, yet closest to both players of the game

born to protectors of light and good but raised by the Dark Lord's most faithful

and so shall one die at the hand of the other but victory only comes through her survival

the one with the power to determine the glory, the one to be graced by shadowed light'

It was the same lady, Sybill Trelawney, who foretold Harry's that spoke mine. No wonder, then, that my prophecy sounds so much alike to Harry's. Well, partially. So, although Lord Voldemort had not had the chance to hear the entire first prophecy, he did witness mine; as I was destined to be the final, determining pawn for the victor of the epic battle between dark and light to come, he could not risk my death, just in case I was to help him, my Lord Voldemort. That is how I came into my first hand experience at being apparated without knowing the spell myself.

After he sent me off, I'll tell you where later, the Dark Lord did attack the 'hero' Harry Potter with the dreaded Avada Kedavra curse. As everybody will assure you, Harry Potter survived, with the famed, jagged lightning bolt scar to prove it. He is the only one to ever survive, and at only one year old at that.

The spell rebounded on my master. While most stories disregard the difference between a total loss of magic power and as crippled, half-dead wraith, there is a difference, I assure you. I am actually quite confused to how the misperception came about in the first place. They don't really seem that similar in my mind. Well, Lord Voldemort did lose his magical powers in the complete and utter respect. He did not, however, lack for any of his physical attributes, except maybe some singed hair on his wand arm. The magic loss was not permanent, and he made a tactical retreat in order to regain them.

Now I must ask, though I know you cannot respond, am I explaining anything or just adding to the confusion? Oh! Did I forget to mention the sister bit? Yes, Harry Potter is my brother. In fact, he is my twin, which is probably the reason we have such a close relationship. So, that would mean that my name should be Chalix Potter. Maybe it should be. But most call me Chalix Riddle. And you would do well to do the same.

Now, you still don't believe me, do you? You probably shouldn't. After all, who's more creditable? Dumbledore? Or some young girl, turned to the dark side, who's probably only hungry for attention? So, I wont tell you to believe me. The facts would not in normal cases fit together. I found myself drawn in and seeing my story to be true. How could I not? For, so my dreams tell me and who am I not to listen to my dreams? Never been wrong before, have they?

Oh, time is short. I must go now. Be happy, my story does not end here. There is so much more to explain! But now I must take my leave of you. After all, tomorrow is the sorting and my first day at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. As well as Harry's. And Draco's.

As the young girl of eleven years rose up from her chair, she tapped the edge of the Veisieve bowl. Much like a Pensieve, the Veisieve stored memories. The difference? That in the Veisieve, one could, in a way, edit the memories. As in a diary, one 'wrote' down what one thought of an event and held it safe for storage. Though no-one ever dared call Chalix's Veisieve a diary. Normally, she was a nice, quiet little girl, but she could be overly protective of her treasures. The Veisieve was much more personal and much more fun to add commentary to, or so Chalix thought. It was also much rarer than a simple Pensieve.

Tossing her midnight raven-colored hair out of her face, she lifted the Veisieve into her hands and attempted, at her short height of 4'9", to lift it to the upper shelf. She almost missed and would have dropped it, had not a strong pair of hands come up from behind her and helped guide the Veisieve to its proper position for safe-keeping.

She dropped down from tip-toe to turn around and gave the boy a warm hug. "Thanks Draco." She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye, "Now how do always know whenever I'm about to get in trouble?"

He shrugged, but he couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly as she spoke. "We should be going to bed now. Have to wake up early tomorrow, or rather later today, to catch the Hogwarts Express. Can't be late for our first year. You know your father would never accept that." As an after thought, he added, "Nor would mine. 'Night," and he walked out of the room.

The light that had been burning late into the early hours of the morning on the third story of the Malfoy Mansion blew out and darkness finally ruled throughout.

Your Author Cymarel Speaking Hope you like it so far. This is just a SHORT prologue (in fact my author's notes are probably as long as the chapter itself...eheheh...) and may seem confusing (like why is she at the Malfoy house, her being Chalix Riddle, etc...maybe not, maybe?). I will clear up some the next chapter, and some, maybe not. So please, if I have made any technical mistakes with terms or objects from Harry Potter that I have used, feel free to embarrass me all you like and tell me in a review! And I appreciate constructive criticism but I do not tolerate flames. They shall be burned at the stake! Like a witch. Like in Monty Python.

And now my muse. (I invented her, mind you) She brought inspiration to me last night. Right as I was trying to sleep. Is that just the best time to annoy me or what IS she thinking?!

Aire: Did you not just answer your question? Well of course I wish to annoy you! Hope you all like this idea, alternate universe and all. I know Cymarel is not huge on reading other stories that are alternate universes. Mostly because they screw up the people's personalities unrealistically. I'm not trying to make Cymarel do that in this story but it may just turn out that way! Sorry! hides face in hands while peeking out through fingers and um I think this counts as an alternate universe fic though I can't be sure...anyways I hope it will turn out good and REVIEW!!! More from me next time! Ja-!

Cymarel: Now, now Aire. Were you trying to take my Ja ne away from me? sinister smile Oh and I thought you learned your lesson last time...well, well. Time for more chocolate! and its not Reeses! sinister laugh Ja ne everybody!

Aire: No! Not the chocolate!!! Aaaaaah!!!