AN: So I promised years ago that I was going to rewrite this (and finish it), and I'm finally getting around to it! (Okay, so maybe my new year's resolution this year was to actually finish at least 12 of the projects I have started and left sitting around...) So I am reposting these chapters, all fresh and shiny and new. I've used the years to polish my writing skills and really learn to write outside my comfort zone, so my hope is to create characters that are neither Mary Sue, trite, or based in any way off me. It's been fun, and I like the story all the more for it (from a writer's perspective).

I only plan on posting this at the beginning of this first chapter, but it stands for all chapters hereafter: I don't own Harry Potter or the universe. Obviously, that masterpiece is all Rowling's. The original characters and plot are mine, though. Hope you enjoy reading!

One…breathe in, breathe out…

Two…breathe in, breathe out…

Three…breathe in, breathe out…

Four…breathe in, breathe out…

Fiv – "Merlin damn it, just shut up." I gave up trying to be mature. Silence fell immediately, and everyone in the compartment turned to look at me, most of them with shocked eyes. I hadn't screamed, and I most certainly hadn't yelled, but cussing? Me? It was written clear on their faces that it simply wasn't allowed. And that was what I got for sitting in a compartment with my older siblings and their friends.

"Watch your language, Genre Amelia Pokeby." My sister, Cadie, warned me. I zipped my lips again. She didn't use my full name unless she meant it. For a moment, they continued to stare, as if daring me to cuss again. Cadie looked stern, but Stan just looked disappointed. When I wouldn't meet their gaze, and turned back to watch our reflections in the window, they all continued their conversation – my least favorite conversation – on dragons. I curled my fingers protectively around my ankle, drawing my legs closer to my body.

Cadie and Stan – short for Cadence and Stanza – were twins, though they were fraternal twins and not identical. They were two years ahead of me, but liked to act like they were a whole decade older. Stan, who liked to pretend his name was Stanley so he could feel normal, was animatedly describing the most recent discovery in the world of flying reptiles (because Brazil really needed another dangerous reptile hiding out in those forests). I was closing my eyes, resuming the count in my head.

If I'd been a tad bit braver, maybe I would have left the compartment to find some of my classmates to sit with instead. They never felt the need to expound on all things alive and dangerous. But the thought gave me chills. Only one thing could be worse than dragons - and that was rejection.

Felicia and Dick, Stan and Cadie's best friends, had become friends with my siblings their first year at Hogwarts, bonding over detailed, animated, illustrative encyclopedia of magical creatures in the Americas. The author of that encyclopedia was my Mum. One thing they all had in common - my Mum, my siblings, and and their friends - was their obsession with dangerous creatures.

"Stop being so sensitive," Cadie said when I shuddered as the conversation drifted into comparing the size of dragon teeth, but she smiled apologetically at me. Stan patted my knee, and Felicia elbowed me in a friendly, distracting way.

"We'll talk about something else," Dick offered. "I saw some good muggle films this summer. Have you heard about…"

When I was three, my family lived temporarily in Peru. Mum was researching American beasts and we had exhausted the less poisonous reptiles in the north, so we were working our way through Central and South America. Dad convinced Mum that we should stop in Peru, to give her time to sort her notes and us kids time to explore.

I was too young to remember being attacked by the dragon, but sometimes I have nightmares about it, even now. It was the day before my birthday, and the day after Cadie and Stan's birthday, when it happened. Stan and Cadie gibbered to each other in their own language while I patted down bits of cake, mixing them with the dirt beside the picnic table. Our hut was by the pond, the one Mum and Dad used to visit when they needed to get away to write. Every week while we were there, every Sunday, we had a picnic.

This particular time, a Peruvian Vipertooth joined us. Dad lost his right arm, cursing the dragon up until his wand and arm had been engulfed. Mum's face got scarred by the scrape of the claws from when she tried to pull me away. Cadie and Stan, miraculously, managed to avoid damage under the picnic table where Mum had thrust them. My ankle had been mangled, despite my Mum's best efforts to jerk me away before the dragon's poisonous teeth closed on me. At the hospital, they had gotten us fixed up as best they could, but some things can't be fixed. I had large pits in my ankle, three of them, where the poisonous fangs had dipped in, dad's arm was gone forever, and Mum's face, which had once been as round and young-looking as mine, remained marred.

I developed a horrible fear of dangerous creatures. Cadie and Stan developed a horrible obsession with them.

Around four, we all ended up shifting seats.

"Could you find the cart and get some pasty pies and perhaps some sweets?" Stan asked me with a winsome smile. He dug a few sickles out of his pocket.

"I'm ravenous," Felicia admitted. "Would you grab me something also?"

"It'll give us a chance to look at some of Mum's new sketches." Cadie was already rummaging through her bag for the sketches - Mum had spent this last holiday in Australia where some bloke had managed to create a hybrid kangaroo-mouse-niffler (honestly, what was he thinking?).

"Happy to," I snorted the bald-faced lie and they all grinned at me while I scooped up their coins and scampered over their knees and out the door.

I moved quickly, keeping my eyes on my feet except when passing someone to make sure it wasn't the witch with the cart.

There passed Arkie Alderton, the Ravenclaw with a knack for broomsticks. He was long and willowy, with drawn out features. Once, Cadie had had a crush on him. He turned her down because she wasn't on the Quidditch team. Walking separately, but beside him, was Glenda Crook. She had pretty blonde hair and a pert little face, but no one was allowed to say anything. She was a diehard feminist and hated being reminded that she was more – or less, from her point of view – than a walking brain. For a while I passed no one else, but then one of the girls from my year stalked by angrily, her cheeks burning as fiercely as her hair.

"Hi, Genre," she said absentmindedly as she brushed by me, "Good to see you." That was Lily Evans for you: civil and friendly even if she was furious. She moved quicker than I did, in the same direction, so I wasn't surprised when I was bowled over by none other than James Potter and Sirius Black.

At the ripe age of fifteen, the two boys were handsome in an awkward sort of way. James was all elbows and knees, shooting up in height until he resembled a water crane. Sirius matched him inch for inch, but with less bony angles and more not-quite muscle. I glanced up to see how far ahead Lily was, but she had already dodged into a random compartment to avoid Potter.

Later, undoubtedly, I would hear about what had happened this time, so I stopped worrying about it, and just focused on not getting run over by Potter and Black again when they got hexed out of a third compartment whilst checking for Lily.

Dinner at Hogwarts was always a tricky affair for us – we ate as a family at home (on those rare occasions we were all home), and so we continued to do so at school. Of course, being in three different houses, this was easier said than done.

"One more sibling, and we'd have a Slytherin at the table," Stan guffawed into his fist.

"One more sibling and Mum and Dad would have given you to Gran just to escape from too much insanity under one roof," I said. There was a brief silence, surprise filtering the air.

"A joke!" Dick cheered. "So early in the year! Genre, you're growing up so fast!" His brawny arm went around my shoulder, and he tugged my head into a knuckle sandwich.

"Stop, stop!" I pleaded, but I laughed as well. Dick and Felicia were a good sort.

"Quick, tickle her!" Cadie laughed, and her fingers danced up my side while I tried to squirm out of Dick's hold. "If we don't get all the laughs out now she'll joke all year!"

"We can't have that!" Stan leapt up from his seat, leaning over the table to tickle my arm pit.

"Perhaps," came a stone-cold voice above my head, "we should all return to our own tables so we can begin Sorting our new First Years."

Dick winced, and let go of me. My face burned so hot, I was sure flames were popping out my ears to relieve the pressure from my blushing cheeks.

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall," I muttered, and escaped before the laughter from the rest of the Hufflepuff table caught up to me.

"How was your summer?" Lily politely asked when I slipped onto the bench across from her at the Gryffindor table - where I supposedly belonged. She politely said nothing about my red cheeks. First Years began filing in, looking around nervously.

"Mine was grand," Mary began in an airy voice. I laughed, used to her pompous theatrics, and ignored the annoyed glare Lily shot at her. Personally, I didn't mind being interrupted if it meant I didn't have to talk. "We went to Germany." Her lips curled up at the corners.

I perked up, immediately curious. Maybe creatures made me uncomfortable, but travelling to new places sounded like a delight.

"What was it like?" Lily asked, her almond eyes tilting my way. I smiled shyly, knowing she asked mostly for my benefit.

"It was horrible. Everyone dresses like rubbish there – all these different shades of brown and grey. And then the women wear these hideous colors on their lips - like mud! It's like they want to look as gross as possible." I watched Mary talk, eying the way her face transformed as she spoke about the different styles there. Her attention wavered between all of us, taking in our own styles so as to be sure not to insult any of us. She was always very careful about that.

"You're so lucky." Lily smiled at Mary as we all scooted over, making a little bit of room for the first Gryffindor First Year who was Sorted. "I've always wanted to visit another country."

Silent as usual, I agreed. How wonderful it would be to explore the world! (Without being dragged by an insane family who wanted to study dragons and acromantulas, and other such things, that is.) Where would I go, if I had the chance? Maybe Wales or Norway or France. Or maybe somewhere with more pizzazz, like India or Africa! But I didn't add that to the conversation, I just turned my ear slightly to listen as Lily talked about the dreadful fight she and her sister had gotten into at the train station.

I was scarfing down tomatoes on toast the next morning when McGonagall chased me down at the Hufflepuff table again, her lips twisted in a frown at having had to search for me to hand me my schedule.

"Pokeby," she said sternly.

"Sorry Professor," I said at the same time Cadie and Stan said cheerily: "Professor?" Even McGonagall had to smile at that chorus.

I put my schedule face down on the table, earning a "Hear, hear" from Dick, waiting for the rest of them to get their schedules as well.

"You know the drill," Felicia smiled when Flitwick finally found Cadie and Dick, and the new Herbology professor, the new Head of Hufflepuff, gave her and Stan their schedules.

We all handed our schedule to the person beside us. Of course, I would never have any classes with them, but it was still tradition.

"We've got mostly the same, that's good, Cadie. Ugh, but you have Potions with Slytherin." Stan observed. Being in different houses, they didn't always have their classes at the same time.

"At least we're in Care of Magical Creatures together," Felicia pointed out, studying Dick's schedule.

Stan and Cadie both had only three NEWT level classes: Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Herbology. They had set the standard pretty low for me. If I managed to get four OWLs, my parents would be thrilled. Of course, I planned on getting more than just four.

"Rough time, old girl," Dick grimaced, examining my schedule. "Transfiguration with Hufflepuff - that's not so bad - Potions with Slytherin, just like your sister. Hm. Care with Slytherin, too, that's unfortunate."

"It's not too late for me to drop that one," I said wistfully.

"Ha!" Cadie snorted coffee out her nose and cussed loudly. Once she'd snorted the last bit out, she continued: "Mum would never forgive you!"

"Dad would," I grumbled.

"Dad's just a poet." Stan shrugged as he said it, but it was a fair statement. Not many witches or wizards had much use for epic poems that covered the breadth of wizarding history.

I finally tugged my schedule back from Dick, looking at it myself.

Genre Pokeby

Monday, Wednesday, Friday

9:00 – 10:00 Transfiguration
10:15 – 12:15 Potions
1:00 – 2:00 Care of Magical Creatures
2:15 – 3:15 Herbology
12:00 – 1:00 Astronomy

Tuesday, Thursday

11:00 – 12:15 Charms
1:00 – 2:15 Defense Against the Dark Arts
3:45 – 5:00 History of Magic
5:15 – 6:30 Ancient Runes

"I'll have to give up meals!" I gasped in horror. Why did I sign up for so many classes my third year? What had I been thinking?

The smart thing to do would have been to march over to McGonagall and have her remove classes from my schedule. Unfortunately, Cadie was the one in Ravenclaw (smarter than all of us, even if she was too lazy to apply herself). I was in Gryffindor, home of the courageous, and apparently foolish.

My siblings were extraordinarily sympathetic though, which made me feel a tad better.

"You'll do fine." Cadie assured me.

"And if you don't, you'll just fit in with us." Stan nodded sagely. I face-planted inches from my toast. It was going to be a busy year.

It wasn't until I started in on my last bite of toast that it occurred to me that Cadie and Stan were going to leave me at Hogwarts in the next year. The bit of tomato on my toast slid slowly back onto my plate as I stared in shock at them. They were both in their seventh year. I was only a fifth year. The thought was heavy on my mind though, as I walked drearily to my Transfiguration class.