July 21st, 1993

Mary Potter

Mary sat at her newly repaired desk and let out a deep sigh. For the first time in her memory, Dudley's second bedroom was completely clean. His old broken toys, ragged, overly large clothes, and lumpy old mattress were gone. The bed now had a brand new soft mattress, blankets, and pillows Mary was sure had once been in the Gryffindor dorms. All of her clothing now resided in the small wardrobe and her most valuable belongings were still carefully hidden in her trunk, while her wands had a safe place under the floorboard, just in case Uncle Vernon searched her room for them.

The extreme loneliness that Mary had always felt in that house was still there though. No matter what had been done to make her room more bearable, it still felt like a prison where she was highly unwelcome, yet unable to leave. Instead of wallowing in self pity, Mary instead finished her summer assignments with the best of her ability, making sure that her penmanship and grammar were both correct before rolling up the scrolls of parchment and placing them in her trunk. Snape's essay on shrinking potions had taken her the longest, as she put in far more effort to double the required length, not wanting to give the irritable man any other reason to pick on her.

Halfway through the third day of her imprisonment, Mary received letters from her friends, finally adding a ray of hope on her otherwise gloomy summer.

Hey Mary!

How's your summer going? Hope the Muggles aren't being too hard on you. Don't worry about Ginny, she's doing okay. She's just been a little quiet since all that rot in the Chamber.

I reckon mum is still on Dumbledore about adopting you. Hope he agrees or she'll explode! It'd be right nice to have you around more.

Guess what? Dad's won the 700 Galleon draw at work! We're going to Egypt to visit Bill! Even Charlie will be there! Wish you could come with us, but Dumbledore told mum that you needed to stay with the Muggles a little longer. Maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley when we get back?

Owl me back soon.

-Ron

Dear Mary,

I'm so sorry that we weren't there when you woke up. I wanted to stay, I truly did, but the Healers had no idea you would be waking up so soon. I'm very glad that you are doing well and there hasn't been any complications from your coma.

I'm so jealous that you've already bought your books for next year! You must tell me how they are. You are reading them, right? And why on Earth did you drop Divination? It is surely going to be interesting. You should have just added Ancient Runes instead of dropping a class that could be very enlightening. I can't believe Professor McGonagall didn't try to persuade you to keep it in your schedule.

Well, my parents want to get back to the museums before they close. I'll send this with Hedwig before she gets any more irritated with me.

Love from,

Hermione

Over the next few weeks, Hedwig gladly traveled back and forth carrying correspondence to and from her friends. Ron kept his letters short, but always asked how she was faring, and in turn would write about what new mischief the twins had gotten themselves into. Hermione on the other hand, wrote long manuscripts that detailed her travels and holiday adventure. Not to mention paragraphs of pleading and begging that Mary give her more clues and hints about the third year books. Mary didn't think that her bushy haired friend would be satisfied until she sent her the books a chapter at a time.

She desperately wanted to write them both, explaining the odd dream in hopes that they would have some kind of helpful advice, but she already knew what their response would be. Ron would tell her that it was just a dream, a side effect of the potions she had been fed. Hermione would go into a lengthy explanation on inter-dimensional travel in the magical world and how it was highly unlikely that she'd had anything more than a very vivid nightmare. Still it nagged at her that she remembered it all so clearly.

For the most part, the Dursleys acted as though she wasn't even there. Every few days though, particularly when Hedwig was chirping at Mary in conversation, Uncle Vernon would stomp up the stairs yelling about hearing 'that damned owl', only to stomp back down the stairs and start talking to Aunt Petunia again like nothing had happened.

The basket of food that Annie the house elf brought on her first night back, stayed sitting on the top of Mary's trunk. Each night it disappeared before Mary went to sleep, only to reappear first thing in the morning, full of delicious food. Regular meals while staying with the Dursleys was something she still wasn't used to, especially as she was barely able to get out and exercise. Instead of staring at the ceiling or rereading her textbooks, Mary spent every waking moment documenting every bit of her dream onto paper. It was a long and tedious task, trying to make sure that everything was exactly as she'd seen it, but by the third week, she'd filled out all seven leather bound journals with almost every detail possible. If nothing else, than having put it to paper would ease it off her mind just a little.

Mary's heart broke as she wrote down the last few pages into the seventh journal. To think that Harry'd been through all of that, only to be killed, was enough to have tears burning her eyes. He'd lost and sacrificed so much only to never have his happy ending. But he hadn't been the only one to give his life. Professor Dumbledore, Fred, Colin, Lavender, and Dobby had all been lost in Harry's story.

With a burst of inspiration, Mary jotted down the last few words and closed the journal. "Dobby?"

After a few tense minutes, where Hedwig lifted her head from beneath her wing and stared at Mary like she'd lost her mind, a soft pop sounded and the little elf appeared before her.

Dobby didn't even have the opportunity to speak before Mary gathered him up in a tight hug. "How are you, Dobby?"

"Dobby is fine, Mary Potter!" He squeaked loudly and patted her on the back. "Dobby is so happy that Marry Potter is calling Dobby!"

Mary sat down on the bed and gestured for the elf to take a seat. Dobby looked reluctant to sit, but at Mary's pointed look, he finally sat beside her.

"Professor Dumbledore told me that you're free now." Mary smiled at him kindly. "How is it?"

Dobby looked down at his filthy tea towel and bandaged hands. "It is being hard work for Dobby. House elves are not trusted once freed. Wizards won't hire Dobby."

Mary looked at her friend in concern. "Where are you staying then?"

"Dobby has found an old crate behind the market." Dobby nodded his head proudly. "It is being big enough for Dobby and keeps the rain away."

Mary reached over and grabbed the basket from her trunk and set it on the bed between them. Her mind whirled with ways that she could help him, and finally came to a conclusion that could benefit them both.

She looked up at the elf with pleading eyes. "I have a favor to ask of you, Dobby."

Dobby's great bulbous eyes widened and he leaned forward while wringing his hands together. "Anything for the great Mary Potter! Dobby will do whatever you is needing."

"Can you do magic here without the Ministry or anyone else finding out or thinking it was me, like last year?" Mary asked seriously.

"Oh yes, Mary Potter." Dobby replied gravely, looking suddenly very guilty. "That is only happening because Dobby mimicked Mary Potter's magical signature. House elf magic is not tracked by the Ministry of Magic."

Mary clapped her hands together and smiled, before pulling two warm plates of food out of the basket. "Let's eat dinner first."

Dobby took the plate with tearful eyes and Mary had to choke down her own sadness. It hit far too close to home to think that the little elf had been starved and homeless all this time. She knew better than most how bad it could get when days would go by with little food or water.

When they finished eating, Mary went to her trunk and grabbed a set of work robes that she'd used in her first year. The trousers and shirt were far too small for her, but Dobby could easily shrink them to his own size. Thankfully, the Dursleys had been gone all day, and Mary was able to let Dobby make use of the bathroom to get cleaned up and change.

It was late and her eyes were tired from reading and writing, so Mary pulled the lumpy old mattress out from it's hiding spot under her bed and got the extra blanket, making a suitably comfortable bed.

"I'll stay here." Mary sat down on the lumpy mattress. "You take the bed."

"Dobby will not!" Dobby put his balled up fists on his bony hips and his long nose pointed up towards the ceiling. "Mary Potter will stay on her own bed and Dobby will sleep on the floor or Dobby will not stay."

Mary bit her lip to keep from laughing at how the little elf had manipulated her. "Please don't leave, Dobby. I'll take the bed."

Mary stood up and went to her own bed while Dobby laid down. "You are far too kind to Dobby, Mary Potter."

"Good night." Mary replied with a yawn and turned the lamp off, knowing full well that it would be a restless night.

July 27th, 1993

The phone rang, pulling Mary out of her daze. She'd been reading for so long that she'd lost track of time. Barreling out of her room, Mary bent down to grab the staircase top plate and slid across the railing until she could jump off at the end, crashing into the back of the couch. She rolled over the back of it and dove for the phone.

"Hello?" She gasped into the mouthpiece, trying to catch her breath.

"Mary?" Hermione asked quickly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Mary replied, exhausted from the short jog. "Ran for the phone and I'm still out of shape. Imagine Crabbe running from Fluffy."

Hermione snickered quietly. "I'm sure you're not that bad off."

"Feel like it." Mary muttered. "Anyway, what's up? My wardens will be back any minute so I can't talk long."

Still, Hermione barely stopped talking long enough for Mary to get the message across when she heard the car door slam shut. "Sorry, 'Mione. The Dursleys haven't been all that thrilled with me surviving and coming back here, it'd be best not to make them angrier than they already are. I better get to safety before they come unglued."

She heard her best friend sigh loudly on the other end. "If you're sure, but please, Mary, write more often."

"I promise." Mary said quietly. "I've got to go."

"Bye."

Mary took the steps two at a time and made it back to her room with barely a moment to spare before the front door opened.

"Marge will arrive on Saturday morning." Uncle Vernon's loud voice echoed up to her room. "I'll be picking her up from the station at ten."

"How wonderful!" Aunt Petunia squealed in delight. "I'll have the guest room ready and get the shopping finished first thing in the morning."

Mary's heart beat loudly in her chest as she closed the door quietly and walked over to her trunk, ignoring Dobby's worried stares. With shaking hands, Mary pulled out the brown journal and flipped through the pages until she found the right one.

It was exactly right. Aunt Marge had arrived on the train on Saturday the thirty first, Harry's thirteenth birthday. Uncle Vernon had picked her and Ripper up at ten in the morning.

"What are the chances?" Mary whispered to herself. "It's got to be a coincidence."

"Is miss okay?" Dobby asked worriedly. "Mary Potter is looking far too pale."

Mary swallowed heavily. "I'm fine, Dobby."

Mary was quiet for the rest of the evening, reflecting on whether or not she should do anything about the dreams. It seemed a little far fetched and crazy that she'd remembered it all so clearly in the first place, but at the same time, it had an air of danger around it. She would just have to take things one step at a time and figure out what to do from then on.

July 30th, 1993

After they ate their breakfast the next morning, Mary and Dobby sat on the floor and played Exploding Snap. Around noon, Mary began gathering things from around her room that she didn't use, or wouldn't need during her stay and carefully packed them in her trunk along with her books and school robes. Dobby's help was invaluable as he was the one that made sure that everything was properly folded to where it would not wrinkle. With a snap of his fingers, he made her school books stack themselves neatly in her trunk where she could easily find them if needed.

Mary held the stack of journals carefully in front of the little elf. "Can you charm these so that only I can open them?"

"Of course Dobby can!" Dobby snapped his fingers and the journals glowed bright blue. "Tap the book with your wand, Mary Potter, and speak a password."

Mary tapped all of the journals and gave each a unique password that pertained to what happened in each one. They stopped glowing and Mary hugged Dobby in thanks, knowing that it would have been difficult to keep them from falling into the wrong hands without the little elf's help. It wouldn't do for anyone to read them. They'd either think she'd gone 'round the bend, or they'd use the information in ways that would make her life even more difficult.

Just before midnight, Mary left her window wide open as she and Dobby sat on the bed playing a game of chess. The game was interrupted moments later by a flock of owls landing on the desk beside them. With a snap of his fingers, Dobby freed them all of their packages and had a plateful of owl treats and a large bowl of water floating in front of them.

"Thank you, Dobby." Mary said as she pulled a book out of her trunk and sat it down on the bed in front of the pile of gifts.

She opened the journal to the bookmarked page and readied herself for the first test of how true her dream was. Mary stared down at the gold wrapped parcel and held the birthday card and newspaper clipping with a shaky hand.

With each gift that turned out to be exactly like the ones Harry had received, Mary's heart dropped further. With each heartfelt letter from her friends that was written exactly as they were in her dream journal, Mary could feel the weight of the future settling on her shoulders, threatening to break her down.

"It wasn't a dream." She whispered as she raised her eyes to see Dobby petting and talking to the drowsy owls. "It's really happening."

"Did you say something to Dobby?" The little elf looked at her with wide happy eyes.

Mary forced the grim expression to leave her face. "Oh no, Dobby. I was just talking to myself."

Dobby smiled brightly at her, his ears flopping as he nodded his head. "Dobby does that too."

Mary leaned back against her pillows, closing her eyes and wondering what else life was going to throw at her.

Sometime during the night, the owls returned to their homes and Hedwig took off to hunt. Mary slept through it all while dreaming about werewolves, Killing Curses and high cold laughter.

July 31st, 1993

The next morning Mary woke up to the smell of bacon frying. Her mouth watered as she rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock that ticked from six fifty-nine to seven. It seemed like no matter how much she slept she still felt exhausted and worn down.

She didn't necessarily want to alert the Dursleys to her presence, but there was no way around it. While visiting, Aunt Marge never left the house and even Uncle Vernon took time off of work. Mary would rather face them now, then to suddenly surprise them during her belligerent Aunt's visit.

After a quick detour to the restroom to take a quick shower and brush her teeth, Mary slowly made her way downstairs. The Dursleys were all sitting at the table as she quietly sat down in her chair and piled food onto her plate. Aunt Petunia sneered at her as she went to reach for a second helping of eggs and Mary smirked back as she grabbed a handful of bacon with her other hand.

"Finally decided to show yourself, eh?" Uncle Vernon sneered at her. "Wanted to ruin my sister's visit with your freakishness?"

"No, Uncle Vernon." Mary put her head down and tried to eat as quickly as possible.

"I don't know what kind of mumbo jumbo you've done, but I won't have it in my home!" Uncle Vernon snarled, slamming the palm of his hand onto the table. "All that noise you've been making and the way that we can't seem to find you. You've been foisted on us, yet you can't even be gracious enough to help out around here. Well, it's going to stop as of today! You are going to do whatever Petunia tells you to do and you'll do it without complaining or you'll be out on your ear and no number of freaks will be able to stop me."

I don't plan on staying. Mary thought snidely.

Halfway through the meal, the newscaster on the telly made Mary's blood run cold.

"And any sighting of the deranged criminal, Sirius Black, should be reported immediately…."

Mary dropped the glass of juice she was holding.

"Sirius!" she gasped aloud, ignoring Aunt Petunia's shriek of rage as the orange juice spilled onto the pristine floor.

Without thought, Mary numbly grabbed her plate and stood to take it to the sink while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon yelled at her to come back and clean up the mess she'd made.

"You lousy, ungrateful little…."

"Potter!" Dudley said, distracting Mary long enough to turn and look at the large boy who smirked at her.

Vernon's open palm connected with Mary's temple, making her stumble back in shock. The hit had been hard, but nowhere near what it could have been if Mary hadn't moved with the blow. But still she could feel the warmth of blood trickling down the side of her face where his Smeltings ring had cut into the soft flesh of her temple.

BOOM

Aunt Petunia screamed and Uncle Vernon lurched back from her in horror. Dudley had wet himself and was standing in the same spot trembling as he watched the cupboard under the stairs being engulfed by blue flames.

"Finite," Mary pointed her wand at the flames.

Nothing happened.

"Finite Incantatem." she cast again, then let her hand drop to her side in defeat.

The flames stood, but upon further inspection, Mary realized that there was no heat coming from them, nor was anything actually on fire. It was like it was some weird form of illusion. Hermione was right. she really needed to learn some self control. If her accidental magic couldn't even conjure a real fire, she was screwed.

Wand in hand, Mary turned around only to be stopped by an enraged Vernon and a shell-shocked Petunia. Uncle Vernon was huffing and puffing, his face turning from bright red to deep purple.

"Put it out." Uncle Vernon spat as he grabbed her by the throat and shook her violently. "Now."

"I c...an't." Mary choked out. "It was an a...accident."

The front door burst open and Aunt Petunia screamed in outrage as three wizards in light blue robes barged into the room wands out and stopped at the sight of the family.

"What's going on here?" The first said with narrowed eyes, as the other two wizards ran to stop the harmless flames.

"Vernon." Aunt Petunia said fearfully as her eyes darted between the wands, her son, and her husband. "Let her go."

Uncle Vernon released his grip and spun around, purple faced, to address the wizards in his home. "If you're here to take the girl then be off with you and let the lousy little bitch rot in jail!"

Mary looked at Aunt Petunia in challenge, hoping to hear her mother's sister say something in her defense.

"Go." Her aunt ground out. "And never come back."

"Gladly." Mary replied coldly as she moved rigidly past them to go and retrieve her things from upstairs.

She could hear raised voices from downstairs and Uncle Vernon getting louder by the moment while Aunt Petunia's shrill tone was mediating. The front door slammed shut and Uncle Vernon continued to rant and yell. In truth, Mary was shocked that the Ministry Wizards didn't stop to talk to her. They had clearly seen the cause of her magical outburst, but hadn't bothered checking on her at all. But mostly she was glad for their blatant disregard of her well-being. It made it easier not having to explain to them how the Famous Mary Potter was unloved by her Muggle relatives.

It took her a few moments to calm down enough to turn around and face Dobby, who'd all but hid under the bed when she burst into the room.

"I was just thinking that I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible." Mary said in a soft tone, watching with guilt as the small elf climbed out from his hiding spot. "Would you mind going to Diagon Alley in the morning and finding out if they have any rooms?"

Dobby's eyes narrowed at her tone. "At the Leaky Cauldron? Mary Potter would be most welcome there."

"I'll start packing up." Mary kept her hand up to shield the rapidly swelling bruise from his view.

"Dobby will get it." He said happily as he snapped his fingers and caused her meager belongings and new gifts to fly into her trunk. "Dobby will take the trunk with him now if you wish."

"I'd appreciate that." Mary reached into her pocket with her Muggle hand and pulled out a few Galleons. "Make sure any room you get has room for both of us and Hedwig."

Dobby packed up the rest of her things, including her new bedding and the food basket, and after promising to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron, Dobby left with a soft pop.

"Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron, girl. I won't be long." Mary told Hedwig as she placed both of her wands in their holsters.

Mary walked silently down the stairs, hoping to leave without notice, but to her increasing irritation her Aunt and Uncle were waiting for her by the door.

"What do we tell those freaks when they find you've gone, girl?" Uncle Vernon fumed.

"Tell them I'll contact them if I feel the need." Mary replied, in the politest tone she could muster. "As long as you stick to your part of not wanting me back, they'll have no reason to do more."

"What do you mean do more?" Uncle shook his fist. "Are you threatening me?"

"No, Uncle Vernon, I'm promising that if you don't let me go right now, you won't like what will happen." Mary said with her wand at her side.

She gave them one last look and pulled a wrinkled handkerchief out of her pocket to dab at her bleeding lip. Then, without another word, she walked out of Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time.

Mary stopped at the park in Little Whinging, sitting on the swings and enjoying a ham and cheese sandwich from the deli down the street. It was a rather dark and gloomy day, with a strong wind that occasionally gusted through so harshly that Mary had to shield her eyes from the flying dirt and debris. She knew she could have tested the possibilties the dream opened up and hailed the Knight bus, but she needed some time and peace and quiet to think about what she would do next.

A low keening whine from just the other side of the hedgerow caught her ear and she stood quickly and flicked her wrist to let her wand fall into her hand.

Is it just the wind rustling the leaves? She thought as she crept forward, quietly as she could so she didn't startle whatever had made the sound. Her heart clutched in her chest because she wasn't sure of what she would find.

She pushed back the hedge and peered past the thick foliage and gasped. Large grayish blue eyes stared at her warily from the face of a big black dog. Mary parted the overgrown hedges to get to him, not caring that twigs and briars pulled at her hair and cut into her bare arms.

What if the dream is wrong and he is guilty? The idea flitted through her mind and she mentally warred with the thought of helping someone who had betrayed her parents. But what if the dream is right and he is innocent? I can't just leave him here.

And what if it's just a stray dog? The cynical side of her mind pointed out. If that was the case then at least she could do some good by helping him out. Without further delay, Mary pulled herself free of the briars and knelt down in front of the dog.

"Easy there." Mary said gently, holding her hand out palm up for the dog to sniff. "I won't hurt you."

The dog's tail thumped against the ground weakly and kept it's eyes glued to her hand as he sat up on his haunches and leaned his nose into her hand. Then took a step forward to lick her cheek where the bluish yellow bruise throbbed painfully.

"Don't worry about me, now." Mary said, trying to keep the tears at bay. "You're rail thin, old pup."

How long has he gone without food? When was the last time he slept or ate a full meal? As someone who knew the ins and outs of food and sleep deprivation, Mary could honestly say that it was probably just determination and will power keeping the poor thing alive at that point.

Mary kept her hands visible in case the dog lost rationality and thought that she was a threat. "I have some food and water here if you feel up to trying some?"

The emaciated dog lifted it's head and stared pitifully at her.

"Here." Mary twisted the lid off of the water bottle and held it up to the dog's mouth.

Slowly, the dog moved it's nose toward the bottle, still wary and cautious as she tipped the bottle just enough to let a slow trickle of water flow. The dog lapped it up greedily, and almost seemed insulted by the little amount Mary was letting him drink. But Mary knew that large amounts of food or water when you're that hungry and thirsty, only lead to sickness.

After the poor beast had finished the other half of her sandwich and a few more sips of water, Mary deemed them both as ready as they'd ever be to get somewhere safe to stay for the night.

"I'd like to keep you with me until I know you're better." Mary said as she carefully petted the dog's emaciated back. "Would you mind coming with me?"

Padfoot, as she'd mentally named him, licked Mary's hand and stared up at her with hopeful eyes. That was all it took for Mary to decide that the two of them would go together to Diagon Alley. No matter how it had happened, or what would happen, there was no way that she could let the skinny animal suffer for a moment longer.

Still, she had to find a way to know whether or not there was more truth to her dreams. If they were true, she had a godfather, actual family, who cared about her. The traitorous rat was somewhere in Egypt with her best mate and pieces of Voldemort's soul were strewn about the country. There was no way that Mary could just let it go. She couldn't let those horrible things happen again. First, she would need more proof that the visions had merit, then - if she had to - she would change the future and make sure that the people she cared about stayed alive and healthy. She briefly thought about telling someone, but quickly squashed that idea. No one could know. Not unless it was an extreme emergency.

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