Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Xena:Warrior Princess belongs to Robert Tapert and Sam Raimi.

Harriet Jamie de Potidaea-Amphipolis - The Girl Who Lived

Chapter 1

"Ugh!" Gabrielle de Potidaea-Amphipolis exclaimed out of frustration. "Xena! I just don't understand why the neighbors cannot control that child's temper. If I have to hear him scream for sweets this late at night anymore I will go insane!" She said loudly. Her face set in a grimace. She shoved the covers off of her frame and got out of bed. Hurriedly she walked to the window and pulled the curtain back to glance across the street. To the house that contained the spoiled brat.

Xena smirked at the irritation in her blonde companion. It was amusing to see her in such a fire spitting mood. Intoxicating even. "Other than the fact that they are morons." Xena replied. She thought nothing too highly of those idiots. The ones who called themselves the Dursley's. Upon their first week in living across the street from them, Xena, had had to threaten the fat oaf away from Gabrielle. His beady little eyes had strayed to the blonde, and Xena could imagine the disgusting thoughts oozing all around his small rodent mind.

"Xena!"

"Hey, I'm calling it like I see it." She stated. She grinned at Gabrielle, and continued to sharpen her sword. Although her weapon was considered absolute in this time, she maintained the weapon to perfection out of sheer habit. She narrowed her eyes. Alti. She shook her head in annoyance. The evil shamaness had tampered with Gabrielle and her life, one too many times. Alti's latest plot had involved cloning Xena and Gabrielle and bringing them into the 20th century. Xena glanced at Gabrielle who continued to glare out the window, she lifted an eyebrow at the woman. They had narrowly escaped Alti, by faking there supposed deaths. They had traveled the world. They started in Greece to find out exactly how they had died. Then on they went around the world learning the history and current trends of each different culture. Some Middle Eastern cultures were still similar to what they had been back in the ancient days, but for the most part the rest of the world had greatly improved upon its standards. Howbeit barbaric tendencies were still prone to pop up and Xena couldn't help getting in the way of the idiots who had no self-control over there urges. Plus Gabrielle still had a habit of getting kidnapped, even if the Amazon Princess could now fight back effectively. She still required some form of rescuing from the Warrior Princess. They had recently settled down in England. Little Whinging, Surrey to be exact. The neighborhood had turned up its noses at its newest members of the community, but Xena saw it as a blessing. No one was getting into her business or attempting to make small talk. Gabrielle had tried, but her efforts had fallen on deaf ears. They wanted nothing to do with the two foreign women.

"Xena, are you even listening to me?" Gabrielle demanded. Her hands rested tightly on her hips, her foot tapped impatiently, and her eyes were glaring flames in her direction.

"Of course." The warrior lied.

"No, you were not." The other woman argued back. Xena raised an eyebrow. "What did I just say?" Gabrielle challenged.

"No, you were not. What did I just say?" The brunette mocked back.

Gabrielle let out a small growl of irritation walked over to the bed, and hastily grabbed a pillow. She turned at chucked it at her friend. Xena easily caught the pillow and tossed it back onto the bed. She put her sharpening stone away and grabbed her sword. She pulled the curtain aside, and looked out the window. "What happened to the lights?" She asked.

"I don't know. I was thinking about going to the Dursley's and telling them if they didn't quite their brat I was going to call the constables. Then all of a sudden the first lamp at the start of the street went out, and one by one the others followed. Yet, they didn't pop or anything, it seemed like something had called the lights out of the lamp and balls of light were sucked to the beginning of the street." She looked at Xena whose eyes were now darkly scanning the street for any signs of movement.

"How long ago did the kid stop screaming?"

"About five minutes before the lights went out. I think he finally cried himself to sleep."

"Well, the power isn't out. I can't tell if there is anybody out there, but I don't like the fact that the street lamps are out. Turn off the night stand lamp."

Gabrielle quickly turned the lamp off and allowed herself to relax in the darkness. The only light provided was from the moon, but clouds were swirling in and out of the moon. "It's the day after Hallows Eve. Demons and monsters could still be out and about." She stated.

"Just what I need, another battle." She grinned.

Gabrielle smacked her forehead. Fighting was all her friend could think of doing.

"Get your Sais, and gun. Go to the kitchen and be alert. I'm going to check out the neighborhood." She demanded of her friend. She quickly grabbed her scabbard, sheathed her sword, shoved it onto her back, and picked up her chakram and placed her favorite weapon her belt loop. She quickly made her way to the kitchen with Gabrielle hot on her heels. "Remember," she looked back at the blonde, "don't use the gun unless you absolutely have to. The thing is loud and will give away your position. Should you need to hide. Be safe." With that she opened the door and stepped out into the night.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark. Years of being a warrior and prepared her for many nights like this; when something fresh, and eerie is in the air. Quietly she made her way to the front of the yard. She stayed in the darkest of the shadows, and paused to listen for any sounds that would give away the presence of another being. At once she heard soft pattering's of shoes hitting the pavement. They were faint, but very close by. Also, there were the soft padded feet of a four legged animal, like it was walking alongside the person who was walking down the street. Slowly she made her way to the person and animal. Her breathing became soft, and non-existent. An old man, with a long beard, and wearing a cloak stood in front of a small cat.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

Xena narrowed her eyes. Gabs, you were right. Albeit, not demons, but witches. Xena thought. The cat was no longer there. There in its place was a woman. She also had a cloak on just like the man. She listened in on their conversation. She needed to know what threat they possessed to her, and her bard.

"How did you know it was me?" She asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said, Professor McGonagall.

Strange. I don't recall seeing a cat sitting on the wall today. I must have passed by it a million times today. Xena pulled herself out of her thoughts and chastised herself for slipping up. The old man had said something about celebrating. Yet what in the world should they be celebrating. She looked back at the strangers in her neighborhood.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no—even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked he had back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars…Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent—I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," the old man said gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for elven years."

"I know that, said Professor McGonagall irritably. But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

Xena inched forward a little bit more. She would move no further, but she could clearly see the dilemma playing out on the woman's features. She was clearly distraught, when by their conversation, according to the man, she should be celebrating, after some kind of dark times that they've had. She had yet to figure out what a muggle was. She returned to their conversation.

"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone—"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense—for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but the man, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldermort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said the man calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too—well—noble to use them."

Xena struggled to come up with any reason why this Voldemort person would be so terrifying that people no, witches, and would be afraid to use his name, unless some spell or curse was cast upon his name. She had met many sorcerers who thought that their names were too good to be spoken by the rest of the mortals. She had also seen those very types cursed themselves by the Olympian Gods. The fools. She thought. Once again she focused on the two who had disturbed her peaceful night.

"What they're saying," she press on, "Is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow, we to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are—are—that they're—dead!"

The man bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's daughter. Harriet. But—he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little girl. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harriet Potter, Voldermort's power somehow broke—and that's why he's gone."

Albus nodded glumly.

"It's—it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done…all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little girl? It's just astounding…of all the things to stop him…but how in the name of heaven did Harriet survive?"

"We can only guess," said Albus. "We may never know."

Witches, magical powers! Xena thought. How else would a babe survive another witch.

"And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

Yes, tell us, so I can go back home. The warrior thought.

"I've come to bring Harriet to her aunt and uncle. They're the only family she has left now."

These people. They are horrible. Xena shook her head at the old man's decision. What about child protective services? This should be there job. Of course you people are witches. You don't exactly follow the common law.

"You don't mean—you can't mean the people who live here?" Cried Professor McGonagall. Jumping to her feet and point at number four. "Dumbledore—you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son—I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harriet Potter come and live here!"

I agree with you witch. No way should another child be put in their care, especially a girl. That uncle will horrible, nasty even.

"It's the best place for her," said Dubledore firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be albe to explain everything to him when she's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly. Sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand her! She'll be famous—a legend—I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harriet Potter day in the future—there will be books written about Harriet—every child in our world will know her name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very serious over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Famous for something she won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off she'll be, growing up away from all that until she's ready to take it?"

Xena tilted her head slightly. She could understand both of their arguments clearly. However, this was no place for a little girl. Not one with an uncle as perverted as he was. This child would be better off anywhere, but here.

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as the looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as at they looked up at the sky—and a huge motorcycle feel out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

Xena's lip curled in a half grin. She wanted one. Her eyes traveled over the bike until they landed on the man who had flown it. He was large, larger than any man she had seen. He must be half-giant. I killed the last giant millennia's ago. How is that even possible? She looked back at the witches and half-giant in front of her and grimaced. They were dismantling. The woman had transformed back into a cat and was at the other end of the street. The half-giant had hopped back on the motorcycle and was back up in the air. The old man, Dumbledore, was walking towards the center of the street, and had pulled something out of his pocket. At once the street lamps power returned. The girl was in a small basket, wrapped in blankets, laid gently on the front porch of the Dursley's home. Xena's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was one thing to leave a child with relatives, but another to abandon one on a porch, on a cold night. Idiots. She thought.

"Good luck, Harriet," the old man murmured. He turned on his hell and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

Xena stepped forward, out of the shadows. Hurriedly, she rushed to the child. Harriet Potter lay asleep in the basket. Xena leant down and smoothed the hair away from the child's face. A lightening scar was on her forehead, freshly made. She glanced up at the door of her neighbors, and then back to her home, where Gabrielle was waiting for her return. She raised an eyebrow. It had been too long, and knowing Gabrielle the bard was probably already here. She looked around a little, and sure enough on the other side the bard was unsuccessfully, not hiding from her. She smirked. She took the child out of the basket and held her close. With one hand she motioned for the bard to step forward and grab the basket. Silently they made their way back to their home.

Once inside and little Harriet was tucked away safely onto the bed, Xena and Gabrielle sat in the chairs staring at her in the bed.

Gabrielle softly asked, "Are we going to raise her?"

Xena leaned back in the chair. She put her feet onto the edge of the bed, and rested her head on the back of the seat. "I am no good with children. My firstborn was murdered—" Gabrielle winced at the painful memory of what her flesh and blood had done to her best friends family. "—my daughter had a bounty put on her head by the Olympian Gods." Xena paused and looked at the bard, "what do you think?"

"I don't think she should be left with her family. Her aunt is nosy, and always looking around at the other neighbors for gossip details and her husband gives me the creeps. Their son is a bully, especially on the playground. The other toddlers don't like to go to near to him. He always takes their toys and snacks." She stated. "And you know how I feel about the orphanages and the foster care systems around the world. They are horrible, filled with despicable and spiteful people. Hardly any of them actually care about the children."

"Then it's settled then. You will be loved, safe, and have a wonderful family, Harriet Jamie de Potidaea-Amphipolis." Xena exclaimed.

"Hey, what about what was in the letter?"

"We'll tell her when it's time for her to go to that magic school. Until then, what she doesn't know, won't hurt her."