My name is Midnight. I don't really have last name. If anyone asks, I say it's 'Smith', but I don't think it really has a ring to it, 'Midnight Smith'. Doesn't really work does it? Not that I care.

I don't really know who my father is, or was; I don't even know his name. My mother doesn't have a last name either. My earliest memory is of my father's murder, and although I didn't know him that well, after all I was only 5 when he died, I will find his killer. And I will hurt them. I think that's only fair, not to mention it's in my nature. My mother is Nemesis, Greek goddess of revenge, and I have inherited some of her skills, her characteristics. Very useful for payback, not so much for making friends.

I've lived in an orphanage since I was five. I'm eleven now, going on twelve. I don't blame my mother for not keeping me around, after all, she's busy, she's done nothing wrong in leaving me behind. And I know she thinks of me. She sends me a birthday card every year with a little bad fortune tip for those around me. I've always known I was her daughter, but I didn't know I was a witch, not until a few days ago when a letter was delivered by 'owl post' to my bedroom window. The owl was a barn own, with black speckles across its chest. There were two letters in its claws. I opened the one with familiar handwriting first as the owl sat on the bed frame, ruffling and preening its wings.

"Dear Midnight. This is your mother. If you have not opened the other letter, do so now." I had put down the letter and picked up the other one, wondering why she would bother to send me two. When I opened it, it was my acceptance letter at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. To say I was shocked was the understatement of the century. I picked up my mother's letter and carried on reading,

"I assume you did as you were told and read the other letter. Congratulations! I'll have all of your supplies sent over to you, save for your wand which you will have to get personally. I'll send a friend to help you out with that too. The owl who delivered these letters is called Βοήθεια" (pronounced Voí̱theia, meaning Help) "and is my gift to you as an early birthday present. Owls are very useful and this one will keep you close in dire times. Take her with you to the school and treat her well. I can tell there will be multiple opportunities at Hogwarts for you, until we meet again, Nemesis."

Today is the day I go to get my wand. My supplies arrived yesterday, and are already packed inside my suitcase. Βοήθεια is sat on my shoulder, her favourite perch. She doesn't like her cage, and I see no reason why I should put her in it, other than she makes a small amount of mess I have to clear up afterwards. Not pretty.

I changed my hair colour to a deep red, but didn't alter my eyes. I like my eye colour, a dark hazel. It's a skill I've inherited - metamorphic abilities. I guess I kind of owe her a lot for my skills. I can detect a person's weakness (their greatest fear) just by observing their body movements and speech patterns, I was born a Metamorphmagus, though not on the same scale as my mother who can change her entire appearance to any mortal who looks at her, and I can charmspeak people unto committing revenge. I'm the first child of Nemesis to be born in nearly a hundred years, as not many men are attracted to the vengeance goddess, but nevertheless, I exist. Apparently the last child of Nemesis was much more powerful than I am, with way more talents, but I'm happy with the ones I have. They help me engage in various opportunities, the most frequent one being talking people into taking revenge, my favorite hobby.

There was a knock on my bedroom door, making me look up. It opened slowly, and a member of the orphanage staff, Holly (age 28, two sisters, worst fear – spiders), stood outside.

"The escort is outside for you." She said sharply. Ever since I talked another orphan (Billy-ray, age 6 at the time, only child, worst fear – the dark) into putting a tarantula into her coat pocket, she hasn't liked me much.

I nodded and picked up my suitcase and bags, Βοήθεια already sat on my shoulder silently. She picked up my suitcase from me and took it downstairs. I think she underestimated how heavy it is.

At the bottom of the stairs, the front door to the orphanage was open, and a large bulky man was stood, blocking out the light from the doorframe.

"Here she is." Holly said, glaring at me. I smiled politely back at her, and I could almost hear her cursing in her mind.

"Right o'." The man grinned. He had a big bushy beard, and must have been at least 10 ft tall. I'll need to hear him talk more before working out his fear. Wait, are they seriously letting me walk out with this guy? He could be anybody?!

"The paperwork checks out right?" I asked quietly. Holly gave a brief nod and put my suitcase down on the ground. The man leant forwards and picked it up as if it were weightless.

"C'mon 'en. Le's go." I raised an eyebrow, but followed regardless. As soon as I was out I heard the door slam behind me, startling Βοήθεια, who let out a squeak of surprise. I think they're glad to be rid of me, at least for now. The man walked over to a young boy, who looked around my age, that was stood on the kerb.

"Right 'en. 'Arry this is Midnight Smiff. Midnight, this is 'Arry Potter."

"Hi." Harry said to me.

"Hello."

"Oh, and I'm Hagrid, groundskeeper at 'Ogwarts. Blimey, look at the time, we'd best be goin'" He said it all very fast before beginning to stride off. Harry and I nearly had to run to catch up with him. His stride is a little lopsided, and his accent is definitely the stereotypical country bumpkin... I'd guess death or the death of others is his greatest fear. From the looks of his oversized scarred hands, I'd say it was of animals. The death of animals and those he cares about. I'm never going to be able to guess how old he is, there's too much height and bushy beard to see his face properly.

"Mr Hagrid, how old are you?" I asked politely.

"Right now? I'm..." He thought for a few minutes "63." He pronounced the 'three' as 'free'.

"Do you have a first name?" I asked.

"Nosy one ain't ya? Rubeus, Rubeus Hagrid." New profile: Rubeus Hagrid, age 63, worst fear – the death of those he cares about. Nice fear. Tricky to work with though.

"Why do you have an owl on your shoulder?" Harry asked, pointing at Βοήθεια.

"That's Βοήθεια. She likes it there."

"Where did you pull that name from?" Harry asked, frowning. I shrugged.

"Family heirloom." I smiled. I'm not bad at Greek, but I can't speak it fluently, just a few words here and there. "Have you got a pet?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "Did you know about, you know, magic and stuff, before your letter came?"

"Not really." I lied.

"Me either." Harry sighed, relaxing "I'm glad I'm not the only one who doesn't know about it. I'd be way behind."

Yup, me too." I said quietly. Βοήθεια nipped my ear affectionately, and I stroked her chest. That's when we reached the motorbike.

"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, 'op in, we'll be up in the air in no time." Hagrid said, putting my suitcase in.

"Um, I'm not so fond of flying." I said, looking nervously at the motorbike carriage. I'm not sure if Zeus would blast me out of the sky or not, or whether he even has any authority over here in England, but I hope not.

"Don't worry about it, it's perfectly safe." Hagrid smiled. I did a silent prayer 'Please Zeus don't kill me' and got in. Βοήθεια spread her wings and took flight into the air, soaring above us. Harry got in beside me.

"Don't worry" Harry smiled at me "it's really fun." I stayed quiet, still praying, I closed my eyes and squeezed them shut. Harry yelped in surprise and I opened my eyes a fraction to see what he had yelped at. He was staring at me.

"What?" I asked. He pointed at my head. I patted my head – nothing strange seemed to be happening. I looked at a curl of my hair and realised it had turned a mixture of deep purple and streaked black.

"Hang on!" Hagrid yelled, then he started the engine, a loud 'bang' startling it into life. It accelerated across the car park before the wheels left the ground and it soared into the air. The g-force against my face made me want to throw up until the bike steadied and reduced its speed, almost like we were cruising rather than speeding. Harry and I sat up and I focused for a moment, my hair changing back to the deep red I liked.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked in astonishment. I shrugged.

"Pure brilliance?" I suggested. Harry sat back, smiling slightly but not much. Hmm, I'd say his worst fear would be either putting his friends in danger, or just fear itself.

"So Harry, a little about yourself?"

"Why?"

"Why not?" I raised an eyebrow and he sighed.

"Well, my parents were both killed when I was very young, and ever since then I've lived with my cousins, the Dursley's. They don't like me, at all. I slept in a cupboard under the stairs, made them breakfast every morning and my cousin Dudley-"

"Dudley Dursley?" I sniggered.

"Yeah" Harry laughed slightly "he decided I would be a good punching bag, so he would try and beat me up a lot. But I'm faster than him, so I could usually run away. My uncle, Vernon, tried to stop my letter from coming to me, but Hagrid found us and delivered it by hand." Harry grinned as if he had a secret between himself and Hagrid. Not that I care.

"So you're eleven." I said, more of a statement than a question. He nodded "Any siblings?"

"No, just me." New Profile: Harry Potter, age 11, only child, worst fear – fear itself. Damn these guys are difficult. I hope they all won't be like this, I want to scare some people already! Well, there are lots of things to be afraid of that aren't your greatest fear, like, I don't like flying, but that's not my greatest fear (Midnight Smith, age 11, various half-siblings which may or may not be alive, worst fear – unknown).

"What about you?" Harry asked.

"Not much to tell" I lied "My dad died when I was five and I lived in the orphanage ever since."
"What about your mum?"

"She works overseas. They didn't have a permanent relationship before he died." I said shortly, not entirely a lie – Nemesis does live in America with the other Greek gods, so she is technically overseas.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did he die?" Harry said.

"Murder. Someone broke into our house and killed him." I said shortly, and I could almost sense my hair bristling, changing colour to a fiery red. My eyes too.

"How did your parents die?" I asked hotly.

"Murder. Someone broke into our house and killed them." Harry said, imitating me. Ding-opportunity.

"Do you intent to do anything about it?" I asked.

"Not much I can do. They're dead." He said quietly.

"The man – or woman – who did it. What do you intend to do with them?"

"He was a famous evil wizard. A lot of people think he's dead now. Hagrid thinks he's biding his time, hiding somewhere, but a lot of other people think he's dead. He hasn't been seen in 10 years, since he killed my parents." Opportunity partially erased.

"Why did he spare you?" I asked.

"He didn't mean to." Harry said quietly "Hagrid says he tried to kill me, but something went wrong and it killed him instead. I got my scar." Harry brushed his fringe out of the way of his forehead to reveal a lightning shaped scar.

"Why did he spare you?" Harry asked, again imitating me. That's getting annoying.

"He didn't see me. Just stabbed my dad 13 times, slit his throat then left." Harry paled slightly and looked away.

"How old were you?" He asked.

"5." I replied "I was hidden behind the sofa, watching. You?"

"1, 1 and a half. Too young to remember it." He said. "Sorry for your loss."

"You too." That's it, end of conversation. Talk of my father's death has put me in too much of a downer. I'm sure scaring someone will help. Just have to wait until I get my wand, and get to school, then I can learn a whole bunch of new profiles and set some plans in action.

"Are you sure it's wise, Dumbledore?" Snape asked, standing in Dumbledore's office as the headmaster paced the room silently. "Allowing a girl with the same background as the Dark Lord's into Hogwarts?"

"I must monitor her, Severus" Dumbledore murmured "She has a very similar past to that of Tom Riddle's – growing up without parental guidance in an orphanage, tormenting other children and staff, the lack of friends or even companions. We must make sure another Voldemort does not arise, especially with the original still out there somewhere. With the right inclination, she could avoid the same fate."

"And Potter?"

"Harry Potter will be safe at Hogwarts. I'll make sure of it."