A/N: Some of this chapter is from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

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Chapter 2 Leaving the Dursely's and Meeting Sirius

When Heather awoke, she noticed it was the night she lost her temper with Marge and the Dursley's for badmouthing her parents. She knew that Sirius wasn't even nearby yet, so she knew she had to stick around until he was in the neighborhood. She would feel him when he's near due to the bond they share.

Heather knew she had a while before she needed to be up so since she was a proficient Occlumens now and a not too bad Legilimens as well, she wanted to take a look at her shields. It had taken about two years to reach an adequate level, especially without anyone present to test her shields, but she had done it. Too little too late, of course, since, if she had learned it when Snape had tried to teach her, maybe Sirius wouldn't have died that night at the Ministry.

Heather shook her head once again. All of this didn't matter now. What mattered was figuring out what was going on and the only way she could think of to do that was to organize her thoughts and sort through her memories. Maybe this way, things would be better and clearer, she hoped. She hoped time traveling didn't mess with her shields.

Heather sat on the floor, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard surface. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deeply in and out a few times. Soon, her mind was devoid of any thought and she tried to look inward, into her mind. Her memories were a little bit of a mess, in the forefront of her mind, organized in tiny wooden boxes on top of shelves with tiny ruins engraved on them. Her mental library, as she likes to call it. Everything seemed in order, the boxes ordered in alphabet order, some – the ones with inside her darkest, most painful memories – had password coded to keep them locked.

The boxes were scattered around everywhere to where she couldn't focus so she quickly put them in organized rows before looking them over.

She had the boxes in different colors so she'd know which were which.

Like for instance, her Hogwarts years were in red with the passwords of that year on them and since the Gryffindor entrance password changed every week the list was long. So, if someone wanted inside her mind they'd need to guess the correct password on them.

The memories of her parents from the time she was born were in white boxes with passwords that only two people besides her would know. Sirius and Remus. She didn't want anyone to see her memories of her parents, besides Sirius and Remus. They were personal and only family got to view them.

At least now she knew what her first words were. Mama and Dada followed closely by Mooey and Pafoo. She also now knew that she never liked nor trusted the traitor. It's just too bad that no one paid much attention to it.

Her memories of the Dursley family were in grey boxes with 'Neglected' as the password. Her childhood was bad but Heather knew it could have been a lot worse. All she had to deal with was cooking, cleaning, gardening, and being forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. She was never physically or sexually abused by her relatives.

Granted, she was very unhappy growing up but at least it wasn't exactly terrible.

Now, her memories of the war and the Triwizard Tournament was in black boxes with 'Terrible and Painful' as the passwords. Those were the memories she wished she didn't remember but they made her who she was. She loved helping people but she knew she'd never fight in another war if she could help it.

But, Heather also knew if someone needed her to help that she'd drop everything just to help that person or people. It was just who she was. She wouldn't turn down someone if they were in danger.

After Heather organized her mind, she wandlessly shrunk Hedwig's cage and placed it inside her trunk and told Hedwig to go to the Leaky Cauldron and wait for her. After she packed her trunk, Heather shrunk it, then she wandlessy transfigured Dudley's castoffs to something suitable for a young girl and befitting her status as the heiress of the Potter line along with her other bloodlines.

A pink dress, a light brown belt, leather jacket, and black heels. She knew that the Dursely's were gonna be upset but she didn't really care. She stopped caring about them a long time ago.

"Get down here!" Vernon shouted as Heather placed her trunk in her pocket.

"Yes?" she asked as she got downstairs.

"What are you wearing?" Petunia asked as Vernon, Dudley, and Marge was too stunned to say anything.

"I got tired of wearing boys clothes, so I decided to get something for myself," Heather said trying not to glare. She knew they didn't deserve anything from her but she respected her elders even when they didn't deserve it.

Petunia couldn't say anything against that because as much as she didn't like or even love her niece she also knew that the only reason they were safe was due to Heather living with them.

"What do you want me to cook this time?" Heather asked as she headed into the kitchen.

"Roast," Petunia stated as she glared at her niece. She was jealous that Heather and Lily were prettier than her.

"Okay," Heather said as she got everything she needed.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the girl's turned out, Vernon," she said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it. "

Heather tried to concentrate on her food, but her hands shook and her face was starting to burn with anger.

Marge reached for her glass of wine.

"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup –"

At that moment, the wine glass Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.

"Marge!" squealed Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"

"Not to worry," grunted Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip. . . . "

Heather really wished she didn't have to be there and hear these horrible things being said about her parents. She was extremely proud of them and she hated that they were being lied about.

An hour later, Vernon was boring them a with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; then Petunia made coffee and Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?"

Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that. . . and a bit more. . . that's the ticket. "

Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie. Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Heather really wanted to disappear into her bedroom, but she met Vernon's angry little eyes and knew she would have to sit it out.

"Aah," said Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after. . . " She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Dudley. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon. . . "

"Now, this one here –"

She jerked her head at Heather, who felt her stomach clench. The Handbook, she thought quickly.

"This one's got a mean, runty look about her. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred. "

Heather was trying to remember page twelve of her book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers.

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia" — she patted Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one "but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us. "

Heather was staring at her plate, a funny ringing in her ears. Grasp your broom firmly by the tail, she thought. But she couldn't remember what came next. Marge's voice seemed to be boring into her like one of Uncle Vernon's drills.

Now, Heather knew she already heard all of this before but to have to listen to it twice was pushing it.

"This Potter," said Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what he did?"

Vernon and Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

"He — didn't work," said Vernon, with half a glance at Heather. "Unemployed. "

"As I expected!" said Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who –"

"He was not," said Heather suddenly. The table went very quiet. Heather was shaking all over. She had never felt so angry in her life and as she said, she's heard all of this before.

"MORE BRANDY!" yelled Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Marge's glass. "You, girl," he snarled at Heather. "Go to bed, go on –"

"No, Vernon," hiccuped Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Heather's. "Go on, girl, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) –"

"They didn't die in a car crash!" said Heather, who found himself on her feet.

"Do you want to know what they did? My parents were working for the government trying to stop a terrorist and his followers. They were a hundred times better than these people I, unfortunately, share blood with," Heather shouted at this bitch. She was tired of holding her tongue.

"Oh, and how do you know that?" Marge asked glaring.

"Because, I don't go to a school for criminal girls, I go to the same boarding school my parents went too. They were awarded a medal for bravery for helping to stop the leader of the terrorist group. And you know what? They were murdered while saving my life. They died for me. Which means, they were better than and more honorable than these people," Heather stated. She knew that keeping her world a secret was the most important thing so she explained it as best as she could.

"I don't care if you don't believe me but I will never allow someone no matter who they are to badmouth my family," Heather promised firmly as she walked out the door to where to felt her bond to Sirius tugging.

"Padfoot! Padfoot! Where are you?" she called out just as she heard a low bark.

Sirius walked out of the bushes when he heard his nickname being called and saw his beautiful goddaughter. He couldn't believe how grown up she was.

"Padfoot, go to Potter Manor and wait for me, I'll be there in a few hours. I'm gonna get proof that you're innocent, besides, I have some information that I need to tell you," Heather explained.

Sirius didn't know how she recognized him, but he'd do as she asked so he nodded.

"I love you Padfoot, and I missed you," she said as she hugged his animal form.

Sirius licked Heather's cheek before leaving.

A/N: Thoughts?