A/N: A/N: Sorry it took so long for this chapter to be released. That's due to some indecision on my part. I was originally going to do the foreign school 'trope' thing. But I decided against it after listening to some music on the way back from a doctor's appointment. So. New direction. I hope y'all enjoy.

PS: Consider this the real first chapter

Chapter I

Morning came too early for Harry Potter's likening. Over the last year, he had really gotten used to sleeping in instead of being up at five AM. His eyes opened to face the same boring ceiling he'd woken up to for the past three years or so.

Today, there was a feeling in his gut that was odd. Something was different. Very different. Almost a sensation of foreboding that would put anyone on edge. A bad day or monumental change? There was only one way to find out, and that was to get his lazy ass out of bed.

So when he had sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, he realized through his bleariness, his feet didn't touch the floor. Did he get shorter while he was asleep?

Standing up, Harry felt a heaviness laying on his chest. It wasn't quite the soreness he got from working out or doing the chores. But a very unfamiliar weight nonetheless. Then something else besides his height felt...lighter. Grabbing the old pair of glasses from his nightstand, he placed them on his nose. It was fuzzy. When he went to wipe the lens on the blanket. But the moment they were in his hands, the blurriness had gone away. He set them down, shaking his head. Maybe magic had finally corrected his vision.

Halfway to the bathroom, the raven haired mage nearly tripped on his too long pajama bottoms. A few unsavory words later, he had made it to the upstairs bathroom. Just as Harry was about to pull his pjs down to pee, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Instead of a young man, was a girl who looked like she was sixteen. She was a little shorter than Harry had been. Her appearance was rather regal in the features department. Adorning her head were black and copper tresses that sank to her shapely rear. Hips had flared out, making them much more girly. Her arms were thinner than Harry's and hands much more slender. The nails mimicked a basic manicure. Being topless, there was nothing covering her impressive bust. Her breasts were rather large, and by his estimation, around a big C to a moderate D cup. Rich cherry hued lips held a prim appearance. The starkness of her green eyes was the only thing that have him any familiarity of who she was supposed to be. Already thick lashes had lengthened elegantly to what a noble woman's would be preened to.

She then glanced at her nose and noticed how petite, and straight it was compared to the nose that she had broken and injured so many times as she had been beaten by her uncle. It was perfectly centered on her face and aligned with no awkward bends or arches that hindered her looks.

Then, she finally glanced down to her pinkish cherry lips. They were small and delicate with no source of dryness or ruptures to be found anywhere. This urged her to lick her lips with her light pink tongue which had gained a very demonic appearance; increased length and a slight taper to the tip. She marveled that her piercing had been pushed out or bothered her with tightness. However, she immediately regretted it as she blushed at how seductive and sexually cute her reflection looked as she did this and instantly brushed her lips with the back of her left hand, absorbing any wetness that was there.

After brushing her hand aside, she continued to gaze at her entire face as a whole. She noticed her head was more petite, her chin was more v shaped, her face resembling the outline of a heart, her neck more slender, and her skin fair and smooth, missing any form of acne or blemish that could hinder her perfection.

Every movement he made, she copied his actions to a 'T' so very unnervingly. When he had let his lounge pants drop, Harry gasped. Between his legs was not the familiar little Mr Happy, but a hairless mound instead. His skin was smooth except where there was a slit that opened to reveal a vagina at a very light touch. The petals were a light pink and turned darker as he looked at the feminine organ in the mirror.

Immediately he pulled up his trainers as realisation dawned on Harry Potter: he had been turned into a girl! One hundred percent female!

Upon receiving that epiphany, his hair flared to a bright blue tinged with bronze. Of course this freaked him out further, turning his hair a mixed shade of silver and orange. Unable to go forth with taking a shower, Harry retreated back to his bedroom.

Hedwig was sitting restlessly in her cage, unperturbed by the change in her master- mistress. Unlocking the metal corral, Harry let her out. She ruffled her feathers now that the gorgeous avian had more room and began smoothing her snowy plumage down.

"I know girl, you're the most beautiful owl in the world." Said familiar preened at the compliments and gave Harry's ear a gentle wizard turned witch grabbed a wrinkled sheet of parchment and began scratching down a message.

Dear Padfoot,

First off, I still can't believe I have a godfather and that you're actually real. I kept having horrible dreams that you had your soul sucked out or didn't want me. I mean, I grew up knowing I was just a freak until I learned I had magic. And until Hagrid told me, I was told my parents were lazy, no good drunks according to my uncle. And that they died in a car crash rather being victims of a brutal murder.

And that's not even the worst the Dursleys have done to me. I didn't know what my name was until I hit primary school. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always call me Boy or Freak. Not once have I heard them call me Harry and it's so frustrating. Living with them all my life, I can conclude they're not good people.

Since I could reach the stove (with a foot stool mind you) I had to do all the cooking except when Uncle Vernon had guests over. Did Dudley ever do any chores? No, I had to do everything! Aunt Petunia doesn't even do the cleaning anymore. It's MY job to make the house spic and span. If there's even one smudge of grime in the bathroom, she hits me with a newspaper or sometimes something heavier and orders me to do it all over again. I'm not a house elf!

For fuck's sake, those bloody wankers made me sleep in a broom cupboard for the first eleven years of my life. Who does that to a kid? Did Dumbledore even know about it? Or did the fruitloop just look the other way?

Don't get me started on my fat cousin! He makes a game with his minions and calls it Harry Hunting! He hits me and I end up with bruises that hurt down to the bone! The worst part about him is that he can hurt me in front of my aunt and uncle and he doesn't get in trouble. Or like the really bad incidents like after Dobby dropped a pudding cake on one of Uncle's guests from Grunnings, he punched me really hard. Or like after the accidental glass vanishing incident at the zoo, he whipped me with his belt and forced me into my cupboard for a month, only letting me out every two days to go to the bathroom.

But now I have you, Padfoot. You and Moony are all I have left to remember my parents by. And the weird thing is, it's not so much as remembering who they were, but more of trying to acquaint myself with the people who made me. I mean, I appreciate their sacrifice, but I guess I never really knew them. Should they really mean that much to me? There's just so much about them that remains an enigma to me.

Anyway, that's not why I'm writing you. Something weird happened to me while I was asleep. I...I don't know how to explain it better than you'd know if you just saw it. So you see, I really need your help. Please come down to Surrey if you can. I need someone and I can't tell anyone.

Love, Harry

P.S, Sorry for ranting about my childhood when I really just wanted to let you know I'd really like to see my godfather. But it does feel kinda good to tell that to someone after bottling that stuff away for years. Er sorry, I'm rambling again...

Once he or rather she finished penning the letter to her godfather, Harry slumped back into bed. Hedwig let herself out, cleverly opening the locked window with her free talon. Harry gave a wistful smile at the reproachful look she got when the owl glared at her before taking off.

A hand rested on her chest. Once it had been flat as a board, but now had two fleshy swells anchored by muscle and sinew. A breast that felt strange. Strange, but right. Sure she had always been weird, but how could this feel right?

Shouldn't she be freaking out? Most guys would be panicking at seeing themselves lose their knob. But after having some time to calm down once the initial shock wore off, Harry kinda liked having long hair. It was really pretty. As a guy, she got made of for it. But if she lived as a girl, no one would mind. People might even actually like it!

When she had been younger, Harry had tried to get Aunt Petunia to buy her a dress. There had been a scoff and a beating when they had gotten home. She had never brought it up again after that. Harry had always been jealous that women always had more clothing choices than men. More ways to express herself. But she had always been stuck in her cousin's castoffs.

Then there was the 'Boy-Who-Has-Too-Many-Hyphenations' business. Since she had turned eleven and found out she was a wizard- witch, everyone knew her for something she really didn't do. A night where her parents died but she didn't. She would trade her fame and celebrity status just to have them back. Perhaps...she didn't need to be Harry Potter anymore...

'Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to start over, as a witch...' It was those last thoughts that ran through Harry's head before she drifted off into the land of dreams.

Sirius Black - 'convicted' mass murderer and all around dark wizard was pissed. Moments ago, he had just finishing a surprisingly lengthy letter from his godson. His hands were shaking as he held the delicate parchment.

Sure the occasional shiver and twitch was a side effect from twelve years in Azkaban, but this time, it was from the unbridled fury he was experiencing. The letter was a cry for help. Not directly, but it was obvious to a formerly seasoned Auror that this was a case of domestic abuse.

It had become personal the moment it became involved with Harry. He had known Lily's mundane sister hated magic, but Sirius hadn't thought it to be at a level of zealotry. A horrible woman and her shallow husband were hurting his godson.

"Those blasted muggles are going to wish they were dead!" he all but snarled, walking towards a hidden alley in which he could apparate.

Only a few hours passed when Harry had woken up from her nap. For a moment, she panicked when she saw the breasts on her chest, remembering it hadn't just been a bad dream. "Oh right, I'm a girl now. Great..."

It was a nightmare when she had to pee, sitting down and unfamiliar organs doing a natural bodily function. She had wiped her crotch and washed her hands with an anxiousness she hadn't experienced before. It'd take time to get used to it, if this was going to be a permanent thing. Before Dudley could see her, Harry darted back to her bedroom.

The doorbell rang. Harry half expected her uncle to yell for her to get the door. But instead, there was silence except for the ticking of the analog clock sitting at her desk. A few muffled sounds reached her ears. Then nothing. Had a Death Eater managed to get into the house?

Cursing the fact that her wand and everything in her trunk had been locked up, Harry crept down the stairs. She didn't realize her hair had shifted to an awkward orange color. She was too focused on whomever was intruding. When she made it to the bottom and peaked into the den, she saw something she hadn't expected to see.

Sirius Black was sitting on Uncle Vernon's favorite armchair with an air of satisfaction on his face. The Dursleys were bound and gagged by a spell she wasn't particularly familiar with. They were in a heap that appeared to be really uncomfortable and she gave a little snicker under her breath.

Neither Petunia, Vernon or Dudley looked to be in any good shape at all. The horse faced woman had a black eye and probably a broken wrist. The overweight teen suffered several bruises and had fallen unconscious, like he had been cold cocked. But the walrus faced husband was in the worst state: Vernon was covered in bite marks; some bled and some didn't break the skin. The foul tempered man was also covered in bruises and a few cuts made by glass or porcelain.

Since she had last seen him, Harry noticed that her godfather had shaved and cleaned up. He was even wearing semi-decent robes of silver, black and indigo. The wizard was in the middle of dressing down her relatives and telling them they were horrible people unfit to take care of anyone.

Her hair had turned a bright sunny yellow, eyes lit up and tackled the man. "SIRIUS! I'm so glad to see you!"

The black haired wizard blinked, not even resisting as her hands wrapped around his middle. He certainly didn't feel like he was in danger from this slip of a woman. He knew the Dursleys only had one child. The gears turned slowly in his head before he made the connection. "Harry?" he asked slowly. "Is that you?"

She nodded vigorously. "This is the bizarre thing I was telling you about in the letter Hedwig gave you. I woke up like this early in the morning. I freaked out about it mostly when I woke up. I slept for most of the day, not expecting you to get here so soon. I thought you were down in the tropics since the last letter you sent me was with a giant macaw. Now, I'm just confused. What's going on?"

While the witch was speaking, her golden hair briefly faded to a jade green before settling on a shade of purple between silver, violet and lilac. A few strains of azure blue speckles webbed through those tresses gave the impression of the night sky before dawn.

The formerly imprisoned wizard stared at the girl clinging to his robes. A few minutes passed before he began chuckling. "I understand now. Really, I don't think anyone would have seen this coming. Lily even, probably would never thought something like this could happen. To be honest, I didn't think it could come out so late!"

"W-what do you mean?" squeaked Harry, just adding to her confuzzlement. Again her hair changed colors, turning a mixture of blue and orange with hints of tawny gold.

"You're a metamorphmagus; a witch or wizard with the innate ability to shapeshift at will. I knew it was an amazing magic, but I didn't think it could go crossgender. I have a little cousin who's one. Typically, Wizarding parents discover their child is a metamorph at birth." Touseling her hair affectionately, Sirius continued, "It's mostly a Black family trait I thought had died out after your great aunt Dorea. But it looks like you or something suppressed it until now. You're an even more special snowflake now."

Harry looked awkwardly to her godfather. "So what now? I'm sure this creates a lot of problems and I'm sure my relatives would rather I leave for good if it was up to them. After all, I'm just a huge burden..."

Padfoot scowled when Vernon made a grunt of approval at the witch's talk of self depreciation. He gave the fat tub of lard a vicious kick. The muffled whale of a man whimpered despite how angry he was.

"We're leaving this dump of a place," said Sirius as he brushed away the unshed tear that had been threatening to spill down his goddaughter's porcelain cheek. "I'm taking you to where I grew up. Well, before I became a freeloader at your dad's place. I don't care what that berk Dumbledore thinks is best. You're my responsibility; your father honored me with the duty of being your godfather and dammit I'm taking control. We grab everything you wanna keep and then we'll leave. Their bindings will disappear only after we're long gone."

When Harry had finished packing everything she cared to shove into her trunk (with a bit of magical help from Sirius), they vacated the absurdly clean (now messy) home on Privet Drive. Hedwig was told to fly ahead and her cage stowed away.

She said goodbye to the small family of garden snakes that had kept her company over the years. They were sad to see her leave, but wished her luck and safety from dangerous birds. It was an odd sentiment coming from a legless reptile, but it tugged at her heartstrings nonetheless.

With nothing more left to do, Harry gripped the handle of her trunk. She was glad to say goodbye to the unnaturally 'perfect' neighborhood. When told to hold on tight, she wrapped her free arm around her godfather's waist. Only a moment had passed before the two disappeared from the end of Wisteria Walk.

The two appeared in a dark alley that let to a suburban area. Harry and Sirius trekked a few blocks before stopping at a horizontal cluster of townhouses. It was a quaint little neighborhood, but she didn't think a dark Pureblood family would have a manor around so many muggles. Speaking of such, she didn't see any buildings around that spoke of luxury. Everything just seemed middle class. It was neither a high class nor a poor place.

Looking at the plaques on the two homes, Harry saw they read 11 and the one to the right, 13. There was no twelve in sight. At first she turned around to the other side, thinking it had an odd even alternating system. But there were no homes. Just a canal and another part of London on the other side. It was so perplexing and was about to ask when her godfather leaned down.

Whispering into Harry's ear, Sirius said, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place can be found here. The House of Blacks is for those who honor and share our blood. Toujours Pur."

Suddenly, the space between 11 and thirteen began stretching. In a matter of seconds, number 12 had appeared, looking like it had been there all along. It taunted her, making her feel as blind as when she had worn glasses.

"What the hell was that?" asked a stupefied Harry, her hair turning a shade between baby blue and yellow. She was lucky no muggles were around to see her hair shifting colors on its own accord.

With a little chuckle, the ex convict said, "Amazing, isn't it. The Fidelius charm can hide anyone or anything from the knowledge of people who don't know the secret and password. Almost as if never existed." Opening the door, he motioned in, "C'mon in, pup."

Harry nodded as she stepped over the threshold into what appeared to be an entry hall. Along the walls down to a door at the end were mount severed heads of house elves. Each head had a placard and a date of the time in which they had served. The eldest one dated back to 1496. Terms seemed to last between 50 to 100 years. Oddly dedicated.

Noticing his goddaughter making a face at the stuffed heads, he laughed, "Yeah, I'm not a big fan of them either. It's been a weird family tradition to cut off our house elves' heads when they get too old to serve tea. My great uncle something revived it because he thought it honorable. Personally think it's a bit mad."

Harry shook her head. "It's not right. Why would your ancestors do such a horrid thing?" Her godfather merely shrugged, dropping the subject. A few moments of walking and the two found themselves in the foyer.

"Kreacher!"

With a resounding crack, an ancient and miffed looking servitor spoke in a gravelly voice, "What does the filthy blood traitor Master want?"

"I'm going to continue cleaning this place, you're gonna help me you little shit. You really shouldn't have let it fall to this level of disrepair. Especially with this dust. I mean, really?" Sirius continued berating the rebellious house elf. After a little bit longer of dressing down, the wizard turned to his godchild and said, "I'll call you down when it's time to eat."

Harry nodded and began the slow process of choosing a room. In the end, she had decided to to take up Bellatrix' old room. It didn't take her too long to pull her school things out and put them on the smallish bookshelf. Hedwig's cage sat on a mahogany desk by the window. There was no need to close the carrier's door. Her lovely owl could come and go as she pleased.

There was an expansive closet to hang up both her school robes and muggle dressings. She didn't have a whole lot of belongings even though she had a fortune left by her parents. She never really got out of her frugal mindset since she had been old enough to do the chores the Dursleys had foisted on her.

The newly turned witch spent a great deal of time talking to her owl, not caring the intelligent bird couldn't answer. For the next few hours, Harry began to absently re-read through last year's defense material.

At dinner, Harry sat across from her godfather. The meal didn't look bad, but she didn't feel hungry despite how amazing it smelled. There were too many things on her mind despite her stomach protesting the self starvation. She'd pay for it later.

"Sirius?"

The man rubbed his eyes as he sat up. He had been watching Harry a little too closely, worried what the Dursleys had done to her was still affecting her. If she hadn't been off in her own little world, she would have noticed him blatantly staring at her. "What's up?"

Biting her lip, Harry nervously asked, "W-would you be disappointed if...if I told you that I wanted to stay a girl?"

Confused features spread across the English wizard's face. "Whatcha mean, pup?"

While she fidgeted, the girl's gaze fell to the floor. "Y-you see... I-I've always been different. I've never been like the other boys. I've always changed in the privacy of the bathroom or in my bed with the curtain drawn. And I..." She moans in frustration, wondering why it was so hard to confess. She'd been trying to tell someone for years but never had the courage to go through with it. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled quickly, "I want to keep my hair long, wear what witches and muggle girls do. These last few years have just sucked. Discovering I had magic was amazing and learning I have a godfather, don't get me wrong. But I am just tired of being put on a pedestal only to be torn down at a moment's notice. I don't... I really don't want to be Harry Potter anymore. I wanna be normal. A normal girl."

As a smile graced his lips, Sirius left his seat and walked around so he could hold his goddaughter close. After a moment, he said, "That's just fine kiddo. James and Lily would have loved a baby girl too. So, whatcha wanna be called? Y'know, the lady you name."

As though she had thought about this extensively, the metamorph replied immediately, "Raela. I've always thought it was really pretty and regal. It was the name of a queen I believe. And I...I think it'd be a cute name for me. I-if that's okay..."

"Raela is a damn adorable name," grinned the Marauder as he ruffled the young witch's hair. "Lily would have loved that name. James... he'd think it's too girly. I think it's a great name and it suits your just fine. Don't tell Lupin I said that."

She pouted at having her hair messed up, but still shocked that her godfather was taking it so well. "T-thanks, Sirius."

"You look so much like your mum," Sirius said fondly. "Even with your newly discovered talents to be a metamorphmagus, your unconscious mind gave you a body similar to hers. Your impossibly green eyes, slim frame...and well...I guess those eh boobs are way bigger than Lily's. Arse too."

"Leave it to my perverted godfather to be staring at a thirteen year old girl's chest and butt," Raela teased snidely.

The old dog blushes and rubbed his shoulder. He muttered, "Can you blame me? You're hot..." That comment earned him a face full of potatoes which caused the both to erupt into soft laughter.

After they ate, Raela found herself exhausted from the day and went to bed. If this was to be her new life, it was loads better than being subjected to the Dursley's cruelty and torment a moment longer. A thousand times better than being a celebrity whose image no one could live up to. Being a girl and not being the Boy-Who-Lived may just be the best decision she would ever make.

The next day, Raela woke around mid morning. A mumbled tempus told her it was a little before ten after ten. She got a quick shower in and then headed to the kitchen after throwing on some of the women's clothes she found in the closet.

When she got down, there were two witches in the corridor as she came down the stairs. Sirius was in the midst of greeting them. As he did so, Raela peered at them with a bit of curiosity. The taller of the two was an older witch with graying black hair. She seemed firm, but relatively relaxed The other was younger and had bubblegum pink hair and appeared fairly young.

"I didn't think I'd see the day where cousin Sirius, the famed mass murderer would invite my daughter and I to the ancestral family townhouse," came Andromeda's dry comment as she entered the foyer.

Sirius pulled the dark haired witch into a hug as he cheered, "Andy! So glad you could make it! I was almost sure you would have just burned the letter I sent and maybe even tipped off the Ministry. And hey twerp, glad you came too."

To her elder cousin, the witch in her mid twenties rolled her eyes, "I still dunno why you wanted me to tag along. S'not like I'm much of an auror. Haven't even graduated yet... I mean, I could report you to Moody or Bones."

Raising a hand meekly, Raela raised a hand and said, "The dogfather asked you two here for me. If it's not too much of a problem." As she spoke, her hair shifted from her normal triple hued hair to white tipped black.

Nymphadora's eyes widened and her jaw fell into a gape. "Bloody hell! You're a metamorph too?! If ya don't mind me asking, who are you to be in my cousin's 'disreputable' company? He didn't kidnap you, did he?"

"Don't be a fool, Nym-"

Said witch snarled, "It's Tonks! If you say my name, I'll bind you and stomp on your walnuts!"

Wincing at the mere mention, Sirius said, "Eurgh, that's a savage and overtly cruel image. But no, I haven't kidnapped her. She's my goddaughter." Both Tonks females remained confused and he sighed. "Harry Potter! I don't know why it took so long for the ability to surface, but apparently she is one. We had a discussion and she decided she would like to be female for the rest of her life. And to call her Raela."

"So you want me to train her?"

Grinning, Sirius replied, "Yup. Can't have her going to Hogwarts without knowing how to stop being so awkward and clumsy. Like you!"

Dora slugged the Black wizard who winced as he was chewed out, "You ass! I'm clumsy because I'm a metamorph! Do you have any idea how disorienting it is to be constantly changing my height, weight and fat distribution?"

With a shrug, the Marauder said, "Well before anything, I want Andy to have a look at her. I don't know what her relatives did, but she doesn't look too healthy. But the lessons can wait until after lunch."

Andromeda sobered. What her cousin was saying was that Raela had been possibly abused and or neglected. Such inclinations pointed to the muggle relatives being sentenced to life in Azkaban, or even death.

"Hello, I'm right here! Don't talk about me as if I was still at the Dursleys," huffed the young metamorph as her hair turned scarlet with Christmas green streaks.

The healer witch said as she patted the younger witch's head, "Sorry dear, your old mutt was just letting me know his...request. I'm going to run some scans on you and you're going to sit still."

With a huff, the thirteen year old witch muttered as she crossed her arms under her bust, "Fuh-ine!"

For the next hour, Andromeda poked and prodded her wand at Raela's body while asking normal and fairly awkward questions. The results had determined that the last Potter's change into a female was 100% real, ruling out curses, potions or rituals. The tests had also analyzed the girl's long term and short term health.

Once that was over, Andy had started prescribing a whole bunch of potions for Raela to take. It started getting a little ridiculous when she was handed a second page of potions she needed to take to correct her malnutrition.

After they had a light lunch of sandwiches, pumpkin juice and some treacle fudge for dessert, Tonks (the younger) had pulled the almost fourteen year old into an empty bedroom with a full length floor mirror.

Tonks had given her a small show of the different ways she should alter her appearance down to the smallest detail.

It took Raela a couple minutes to regain her composure, having enjoyed the odd sight of someone's body changing quite a bit. Once she did, she noticed the odd look Nymphadora was giving her but was quickly distracted by Andromeda talking again, "There are limitations. Dora here can get to the size of a small goblin and I'd have no doubts that you'd be the same. Unlike Polyjuice potions, you stay the same weight as you originally were. Unlike Polyjuice potions, however, you can take on animal traits, such as a pigs snout or a duck's bill. Knowing anatomy helps you with details - such as scars or giving yourself night-vision - but the natural magic of the metamorphmagus keeps you from making it so you have no throat or something like it."

The younger witch's eyes lit up as a myriad of thoughts swirled around her braincase. She was very familiar with the way Polyjuice potion worked. After all, she had transformed into Goyle in her second year to question Malfoy. It still gave her the shudders when she thought about it.

The older witches had her begin with something simple like changing the color of her nails and her eyes. There was a bit of a funny accident when Raela had turned the sclera of her eyes black instead of white.

She knew this lesson wasn't everything she needed to learn in order to control these powers. Raela didn't want to wake up to a completely different appearance each morning. Or let her emotions control her. Dead looking skin and nails had been terrifying enough when she had a small bout of depression. She would just need to work harder.

After the exhausting three hour lesson on attempting controlling her metamorphmagus abilities, Raela had taken a shower. Her hair was still damp when she entered the dining room to start setting the table for dinner.

Half an hour later, Andromeda and Raela had whipped up a delicious meal out of excellent beef sirloin and leafy greens. Dessert was to be mousse of varying flavors. The young metamorph had no idea how much a difference magic could make while cooking. It had been a life changing epiphany to see how much more she could make in a shorter amount of time.

Dinner itself had been a raucous affair. The Black family blood always held true it seemed. There was plenty of laughter and stories told. Updates in daily lives and questions about the rest of the remaining members of the family. During the last course, Sirius had asked to see her once everything had been cleaned up.

"C'mere kiddo," intoned the dark haired man sitting in a fancy dragon leather armchair as Raela walked into the den. Obediently, the young witch knelt by her godfather's feet and peered up at the once emaciated man. A year away from Azkaban had done him quite well.

After a moment's hesitation, the metamorph asked, "You wanted to see me?"

"I've been thinking since you decided to stay a girl," he began. "And you're my goddaughter. I think you're more than worthy enough for me to give you something that once belonged to your great aunt Dorea." To punctuate his sentence, Sirius brought out a small package which he handed to Raela.

In the thin gray velvet box lie a ebony velvet choker. The top and bottom half was a dark blue lace. A raven carved from onyx with an amethyst for the visible eye. But something was clutched by the black bird. The small teardrop gem sitting in a mithril setting of the corvid's beak sparkled with a black opal with splashes of radiant purple and indigo that reminded her of the nebulous scenes of the distant void beyond the skies on the clearest nights in August. To finish the masterpiece, the closing latch was a stylized lobster clasp hewn from possibly fourteen carat gold.

There were also matching earrings in the shape of a bird's skull which had dangling silver feathers flecked with rose gold. When put against her lobes, it automatically pierced them. She had given a little squeak of surprise.

Shaking her head, Raela gasped, "I-I cannot accept this Sirius. It's too much!"

Removing the accessory from it's prison, Sirius swept the girl's hair out of the way and clasped around her neck. At first it was a mite too big, but it seemed to magically resize to adapt to petite throat.

"I promised your dad that I would take care of you no matter what. And that means spoiling his little girl to make up for all the years I've been kept away from you. That is the Black family crest on it, because you are my heiress. I can't have kids due to long term exposure to dementors. So you're stuck with this old dog." He paused and stroked her hair. "Pup, look in the mirror for me, will you?"

Looking into the reflective surface of the silver looking glass, felt beautiful. The jeweled accessory fit so well with her svelte build, giving her an extremely delicate appearance. She was certainly looking like a proper lady.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as Raela jumped into her godfather's arms. She cried as she clung to him, "Thank you dad! This means so much to me!"

Said man's own heart soared when the witch in his arms had unintentionally called him her father. And he had no reason to correct her. He simply smiled and held her.

A/N: There ya go, the first chapter done!

PS: Who should I pair Raela with? I'm thinking Fleur? Perhaps someone else?