A/N: It may or may not follow a linear pattern; I'm thinking that each part will be individual oneshots that connect within the same timeline… So I'll write whenever inspiration hits.

The Colour Red

Part Two

Molly Prewitt didn't exist.

Or rather, she had, once, a long time ago. A little girl with shining, brilliantly orange hair and wide, curious eyes. But then the lights went out, and her wide, curious eyes weren't so wide anymore.

That morning, she'd woken up with a smile that split each cheek in two – the day had finally arrived! She was going to Hogwarts! She double- and triple- checked her trunk and her cat and her long, black robes. Her wand was polished under the steady thrum of her nervous fingers, tapping out an apprehensive rhythm that built in speed and excitement.

Worn pages of spellbooks were flipped and thumbed through over and over as spells were mumbled under breath, threading harmoniously with the random interjections of 'Hogwarts, I can't believe it…' and 'Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor…'

She kissed each brother on each cheek goodbye at the station, already leaving her mother's embrace for that of the crimson train that stood proud and strong and 'chugachug, chugachug,' full of promise and magic and adventures ahead.

Her fingers danced against the corridor as she paced her way forwards and forwards until she found just the right compartment – empty and small and cosy enough for a read or two.

She stepped in, sat down, and opened her book, her wide, curious eyes searching for promises.

But then the lights went out, and then a dull sort of aching throb pierced through her spine and suddenly her eyes weren't so wide anymore, drooping with the rest of her features as she dropped to the floor.

Words were mumbled under breath and a spark lit up the dark for a moment, and Molly was gone. But then the lights came back on, and a little girl with shining, brilliantly red hair and narrowed, sly eyes sat in the otherwise empty compartment. Her eyes widened in curiosity as she spotted the book that had dropped, strewn across the floor; it was picked up and settled into her lap, where she quickly wiped the smear of blood that had spilt across the cover.

This little girl was Molly Prewitt, but she hadn't been Molly five minutes ago, even though her freckles were the same and her smile was the same and her eyes just a little bit crueller.

Molly Prewitt didn't exist, because someone had stolen her face.

A/N: That's right – the real Molly was assassinated on her way to her first year, and a shinobi took her place! (See what I did there? Instantly included the character of Molly into the shinobi world! But why would Suna send a spy to Hogwarts?)

No worries – the 'Molly Weasley' you guys know isn't dead. She's just a little... ninja-ish, now.