Author's Note: This fan fiction begins at the the start of Harry Potter's fifth year, although he will not appear in it often, if at all. I would also like to mention that pretty much nothing from the end of the fifth book and on will be recognized as legitimate in the fanfic, especially Sirius dying (I love Sirius) and the whole Tonks/Lupin thing.

I would also like to mention that Kerkyra (Kerkyra in Greek, Corfu in English) Island in Greece is a real place. Obviously, "Canary Cottage" is not.

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Narkissa Winchcombe grabbed a handful of floo powder from the mantel. Before she stepped into the large fireplace, she glanced once more at the dinning room door. Evidently, her father was not going say a final goodbye before she left for a year. Her final year, in fact, at the Enchanted Rose School for Young Witches.

Narkissa, or Sasha as she was better known, was not particularly surprised that the house-elves cared more about her leaving than her own father. As the Head of the Werewolf Support Services, Being Division, he had little time to spare. Since the beginning of the summer, he had even less than usual, however. It took her most of her two month vacation to figure out that he had joined The Order of the Phoenix. It had taken a great deal of eaves dropping on her part, but it was worth it. There was nothing else to do in the godforsaken house. Sasha did not blame her mother for leaving him. The man cared for work and work alone. Well, now he apparently cared for the Order, too.

Sasha stepped into the fireplace, finally, barely noticing the house elves' sobs of farewell. She threw down the silver powder, and said in a clear voice, "Canary Cottage, Kerkyra Island, Greece." Just as the green flames engulfed her, Sasha saw her her father burst through the French doors, a posse in tow. She heard him sigh in disappointment, but Sasha didn't think much of it. She doubted he would follow her to her mother's house, but he could always send an owl to her at school with some lame excuse.

Before she had even properly arrived in her mother's kitchen, Sasha felt the bone crushing sensation she knew could only be a hug, courtesy of her mother.

"Hey, mom!"

"Narkissa! I'm so glad you're back!"

"Me too. Even happier than I am about getting away from London."

Her father lived in a big stately townhouse in London. He was a muggle born who liked to pretend he was a pure-blood. Sasha didn't have a very high opinion of him, to say the least. He mother, on the other hand, was far more interesting. She was Russian, with an almost exclusively pure-blood heritage dating back to the middle ages. She had thick black hair that waved all the way down to her waist, red lips that were always curved into a smile, and brown eyes that sparkled like the Ionian Sea the Canary Cottage overlooked.

Growing up, one of Sasha's greatest fears was that she would one day look like her father; freakishly tall with an everlasting look of exhaustion on her face. Luckily, she looked very much like a younger version of her mother, except that she had her paternal grandmother's sharp grey eyes, rather than the soft brown ones she loved so much.

Apparently, in his youth, her father had been an artist, who on a trip to Russia met her mother on a train. Sasha could not imagine her stuck up father as an artist. She would have to take her mother's word for it. After their divorce, Valeska (Sasha's mother) moved to her beloved Greece, a place she had only ever dreamed of living in.

She took up residence on a large island, the second largest of the Ionian Islands in Greece. Her home, so affectionately called 'Canary Cottage' because of it's bright yellow paint, was hardly a cottage. Half of it was built into a rocky edge, the other half overlooked the spectacular St. Georgios Bay. Most of the other houses in the surrounding area were white, with coloured shutters. The muggles of the area loved the friendly yellow home. Whenever muggles went to visit the nearby chapel, her mother always invited them in for refreshments. Everyone loved Valeska, especially Sasha.

"Narkissa, please, he's your father."

"Not that he wants to be. He didn't even say goodbye."

Her mother paused for a moment, before continuing in Russian, "I will have a talk with him."

"No, mum, please don't", replied Sasha in English, "I don't mind being left alone. I prefer it to spending time with him."

"Narkissa..."

"Please, mum? Promise?"

"Alright," she sighed after a pause, "but I wish you would try a bit harder with him", she finished, in a slightly accented English.

Sasha smile. She loved her mom.

"Come, let's have lunch on the roof." Valeska whipped out her wand, waved it in the general direction of the fridge, and led her daughter up the only stair case in the house that wasn't build into the 'stone' part of the house, as they called it. That is, the part of the house that was dug out of the escarpment the house was built on.

The bit of roof above the kitchen was flat and covered in white gravel. It had a 180 degree view of the Ionian Sea on one side, and an 180 degree view of Kerkyra on the other. Shortly after sitting down at the round marble table in the center of the roof, an assortment of fruits, bread, and oil followed them up.

The talked about how their summers had been, including what new clothes and makeup they had bought since they had last seen each other, which had been two months ago. She had stayed with her mother a month after finishing school. That was the arrangement: holidays during the school year and one month of summer with her mother, two months of summer with her dad. It amounted to pretty much the same thing, but the time at her father's felt excruciatingly long.

Finally, when the oil they had dipped their bread in ran out, Valeska's spoke in a tone very different from the excited and happy one she had used during lunch. It was very gentle, but Sasha realized she was supposed to pay very close attention to whatever it was that her mother was about to say.

"Narkissa," she began, "I have something to tell you." She paused a moment, but when Sasha did not interrupt, she went on. "In Afionas," Sash recognized this as the small, near by town, "I have a friend named Ellie. She's an Australian photographer, and she invited me to go to Africa with her for a year to photograph giraffes."

Sasha's mouth dropped. "Wow, that's a little out of no where. I thought you were going to tell me you were engaged or something. I can honestly say I did not see that coming."

Valeska gave a small, guilty smile, "I told her I would love to go, but if you don't want me to, I won't."

"Momma, of course I want you to go!", Sasha said in Russian, "I'll be in school for most of the time, and I always hate to think of you here all alone. I hope you have a great time!"

Valeska's mouth curved into an even bigger smile than usual, showing her white teeth. But then it faded slightly.

"I'm not sure you quite understand, dearest. We will be camping together. I will be near her for almost the entire trip, and she is a muggle. That means I won't be able to use any magic, not even to contact you. No owls. Nothing to raise suspicion."

Sasha thought about guilting her mother into staying. How could she be expected to go a year without her? Instantly, a sense of shame and guilt swept over her. How could she be so selfish? Her mom clearly wanted to go. Who was she to stand in the way of that? Sasha tried to put on a brave face.

"That's fine, mum." Sasha was using a British accent. It often switched between a Russian accent, a Greek accent, and a British accent. She could speak all three languages fluently, but often she didn't bother trying to suppress any accent, no matter which one she was speaking.

Valeska could not hide her delight. She positively lit up, reaching across the table to squeeze her daughter's hand.

"When do you leave?"

"I will meet Ellie at the dock at 7 AM, the day after you leave."

"That soon? We should put some protection spell on the house, just in case."

"Yes. I have also asked the Nuns at the chapel to watch after the house, in case I ended up going."

Something suddenly occurred to Sasha. "Mum, can I still come home for Christmas and Spring Break, or do I have to go to my father's?"

Valeska considered the question a moment before saying, "You are an adult now. You can make your own choices."

Sasha beamed at her mother.

"Come now, little one, lets make sure you have everything ready for school tomorrow."