Sterling Dreams

Chapter One

Sometimes it's frustrating being in a school for almost an entire year with the same people constantly. You couldn't get away just for a night from someone or something that had bothered you to the point of livid tears.

That's one thing I hate. I hate having no place to go at the end of the day where I was alone and at home.

The school had lost that appeal of home for me some time ago.

I had already become aware of the need to find a place of settlement and warmth. I also needed to get in charge of my affairs. I couldn't suffer that concept of not preparing for the future.

During that first summer after first year I had stumbled upon the fact that my family had properties. There was a multitude of places that I could use and call home when I needed a home the most. My mother apparently had convinced my father to purchase a renovated church that apparently they planned to live in. It was old and certainly wonderful when I went to visit. I had elves that I inherited by way of being the Potter heir help clean the old church to a suitable state for living after discovering how much I enjoyed the building and was given permission to access my family affairs by the Gringott's goblin in charge of my inheritance.

That is after I figured out that I could have the previous goblin removed from that position after filing an appeal to the head of the bank when I was turned away from seeing any of my family vaults or given permission to assess the items within them as told by one Headmaster who somehow thought it was his privilege to determine such matters. It was not and while he is unaware of the situation at the moment, something told me he would be certainly aware of it later in the summer.

I was done with the manipulation and outright omission of things that old man thought he was allowed to regard me with. I was not a dumb person and I didn't like my relatives very much when I discovered that they had lied to me about my parent's death. I certainly wasn't about to tolerate it from a man who was just a Headmaster despite whatever he likes to think of himself.

Shortly after I paid a visit to the bank regarding my Potter family affairs, I found out that I was legally the heir to the Black family by way of Sirius Black's legal records. I'm sure he'd be suitably irritated should he find out that I had taken claim of that title legally. That or he'd laugh at the Headmaster's expression when he found out that he could no longer force me to go back to the family that verbally and sometimes (depending on your definition of frequency) physically abused me.

Yes, being slapped in the face is abusive according to my standards. I was starved frequently which had led to my stashing of food in the dormitory much to the horror (or utter distaste) of my head of house. Being hauled around by your hair and thrown into a cupboard that was made to be your bedroom is also abusive. Suffering from verbal abuse early in my life didn't always help me have the strongest security, but I did make the most of what I could in a bad situation. In order to survive, sometimes you have to take the piss on the back to loll in the sun later.

Of course, being me and having a cult leader (and his spineless cohorts who willingly got branded by the mother-thumper) who actively seek my demise does seem like an awful lot of piss for one individual to deal with over time.

This is why I made sure that I could get emancipated quickly.

It was possible to be granted emancipation in the wizarding world at fourteen years of age. I just needed to meet a list of criteria.

First, I had to be able to support myself. I had started a business with an American pureblooded squib that involved bridal dress design halfway through my second year. Genevieve Applesnow and I met in Gringotts during the summer and had struck up such a close relationship that had led to an agreeable friendship and business partnership.

Our business had been invested by her grandmother Amelia Applesnow, a well-respected pureblood who left England during the first war, had lent us money to start the business. We were surprisingly successful despite my reservations toward fashion designs after all it would be hard to break into an already competitive business. We were currently using a storefront of a building that the Black family had actually owned in muggle London much to our mutual amusement.

Second, I needed to be able to live apart from my guardians. This was easier said than done, but at the moment that the church had been cleaned, I moved in with the permission of the goblin in charge of my estates. It was also a decent move considering that I had a newborn and I doubt my relatives would allow that to continue all daisy-like.

Third, I had taken the A-Level examinations at the age of nearly twelve, scoring high on all my exams and received my certificate. I had then been accepted into University of Dundee where I worked on classes alongside my wizarding studies. I had already received a certificate for Juvenile Osteology (a summer program), but was working on the latter halves of BSc for Forensic Anthropology and Anatomical Sciences having already finished the first two Levels.

The governors of Hogwarts were kind enough to let me use a time-turner last year that not even the professors were aware about let alone my own friends. Had Hermione found out, I would've been hit over the head when I pretended to not know what a time-turner was. I had also secretly in the summer before my fourth year taken my O.W.L.s.

Apparently being an insomniac and a new mother gave way to a want of just getting things done with at this school. It also helped that I had found Bill and Charlie Weasley's notes for the exam and the N.E.W.T.s examination. There may have been many instances of breakdowns in tears from stress, but I was lucky to keep that swept under a rug.

But I really only wanted to leave.

And it appeared with much received enthusiasm that that would happen as I at the moment was looking at the results of the O.W.L.s exams that I took. I'd taken nine of the exams (receiving all O's for all nine) excluding Transfiguration, Defense, and Charms, knowing that I'd take them during my Christmas holidays despite having been told that I had to stay for the Yule Ball among other things.

I applaud the Headmaster for the balls to demand it. However I was under the idea that I very well could and will decline such a direct order. It was about time that I showed some backbone.

Which happened to be number four of the things I needed to do to be emancipated: I had to make my own decisions through a mature vantage point. This was simple to be honest. I really was revved to be free from the chains that others threw onto me without any actual authority.

It was a well-remembered fact that my parent's will was suppressed and not read after their death. I had already seen it and was highly displeased as it was stated quite clearly that I was not to be put in my mother's sister's care under any circumstance. I remember that it had been Dumbledore who had been behind this action. I was actually to be put under one Andromeda Tonk's care if none of my godparents were capable of taking me in.

It was a fact that led me to meeting her for tea during the summer before the start of second year. She was pleasantly sharp-witted and very well kept quiet about my behavior. Not though without subtle hints of disapproval. Dating Genevieve's cousin, Nathaniel Applesnow-Medraut, another pureblooded squib, was highly frowned upon by all those who'd seen us together.

And if the press had caught wind of the relationship, it would've been scandalous for the only heir to two very old and noble wizarding families to even consider having relations with a squib of all things. From what Andromeda had explained, it would've been a safer option to date a muggleborn. Of course, I wasn't for doing things in halves hence the teenage pregnancy.

Not that I hadn't used appropriate skills to avoid such a fate, but as my Aunt Petunia once said, "We Evans women get pregnant at a drop of a hat." However easy it was to get pregnant, it was uncertain whether the pregnancy would gestate healthily. My Aunt had suffered many miscarriages which in turn she blamed me for, but I'm sure she was aware of the illogic of that thought.

I'm far more capable of practicing cannibalism than purposely causing a miscarriage.

I had discovered that my own mother had two miscarriages before me during my visit to Gringotts.

The Applesnow family and Andromeda were not wrong to be concerned about my relationship with Nathaniel; he had broken my nose when he discovered my condition. It was a well-known fact that the last Medraut male of the line wanted nothing to do with any sort of future legacy for the line. His grandfather Alexander Medraut had made sure of the inheritance going to his only grandchild, my daughter who happened to show magical talent early. Something he happened to be very gleeful about as his wife only produced one squib boy out of many miscarriages and stillborn babies.

It's rather annoying to watch a stuff animal float through the air when you yourself have problems with summoning spells.

But I digress as Hermione did batter me until I was capable of using the charm during the First Task.

Andromeda and Amelia Applesnow took over the care of my daughter during my time at school with the erratic visits of one Alexander Medraut. Genevieve ran our company while I was away and this in turn made it especially difficult to take care of a baby, but that's how the mentioned arrangement became agreed upon. Mind you, I had hired on Barty Crouch's house elf Winky to take on the task of keeping an eye on my child and her pseudo guardians.

Keeping that you were pregnant and had a baby was a bigger secret than most would think. One might understand that if they had a conniving reporter out for your mashers and grits after walking out on an interview that was already being sabotaged by said reporter. Though all things considered, the fact that she didn't know a majority about me was a god-sent blessing in disguise.

There was a drawback to that thought.

While it could be said that I may be the most obvious reckless person in this school, I was nearly sorted into a house full of snakes. Considering the visit to said house second year, I may have fought too hard to be placed somewhere else. My house is remarkably boisterous and for someone that was supposed to stay quiet and in the background of an abusive household with only the goal of ever being normal, it is severely off-putting at times. These boisterous individuals also shared a group-like mentality that may put even the most radical on their toes.

You see, when amongst the lions, you had to follow a similar attitude or risk being the hourly prey of many pissed (and utterly petty, immature) cats. It wasn't difficult if you could blend in, but when you can literally drop your name and have immediate attention follow, it became utterly so.

And, yes, I am complaining. However I am not whining.

I do not understand how any of those around me could imagine that I'd want to participate in such a silly competition. They say it's to pursue glory. They say it's honorable and you get to be the one looked up to by the people around you because you're representing not only your personal house, but an entire school. Hell, you represent the entire crop of the country.

I wonder what Cedric thought when he put his name into the goblet. Was it to please his father? Was it because everyone expected him to do it? Was it because it was expected that everyone including himself within that age group was to enter?

Was it ever about what he wanted?

Did anyone ever think to ask him what he wanted?

I sometimes wish I had, if only to assuage my curiosity.

Peer-pressure. I deal with this concept amongst the lions. I expect it's dealt with in every house besides my own. I just feel at odds with the group mentality that it creates. I hate the constant feeling of being at odds with people I should feel at home with in this house of mine.

But I'm not.

I hate noise. Hermione dislikes the noise, too, but it's different, methinks. She just wants to be able to focus on her studies.

I just wanted to be able to breathe.

To wit, it is difficult to do so when in this particular group of cats. They always need to be doing something. Not that I do not understand such behavior. I needed just as much movement which is probably why I never looked so big in pregnancy and lost what weight I did gain quickly.

Of course, breast-feeding helps with that as well.

Going back to the subject of cats, I think they're too nosy. They stick themselves into everything. If one person is being picked on, a whole group suddenly appears. If a person wants to go to the library, a whole herd wants to go too. If you found a silent place to take several moments to yourself, suddenly another appears and harasses you.

And they do not seem to grasp that you want to be alone. They get hurt about it. As if you physically popped them across the nose even though you did not and then it is your entire fault.

Your problem. It'll never be their fault when really there wasn't any fault to begin with until that very conversation and they were the first to cry uncle.

It doesn't appear that it could be anything else besides the idea that it's hateful to want to be alone. It's that you're really just assaulting their puny selves by the idea that you no longer want companionship.

I do not seem to grasp this concept.

But if there is someone at fault, it must certainly be the person raping my alone time.

I'm comfortable so long as I am not forced to communicate with people that I normally wouldn't bother with. I had a very tiny group of friends and not because I'm incapable of having more. I'm just the type that once I find a group, I'm glued to it until something disrupts the structure.

And I most certainly hated being stranded into another group. It was extremely uncomfortable and while I never thought myself very shy, my introversion did not ever help me in any situation. It was difficult to deal with that type of circumstance outside of a work or classroom setting.

I hated the party after the First Task. I'd just survived a dragon to get a stupid gold egg. Why do I have to smile and play along with you backstabbers? You accused me, abused me, and now you and I need to act like that's all in the past?

I asked Hermione. She said to drop it unless I wanted to start a fight. I asked Dean Thomas. He summarized that I should just drop it for now as emotions were too high to point certain things out and it would most assuredly not end well for anyone. Neville Longbottom just gave me a weak smile while Ginny told me not to rile up her brother any more than I had already in the past because apparently everything was my fault. The twins just ruffled my hair which irritated me a bit more, but I knew that they were on my side as they were highly annoyed at Ron's behavior towards me.

Following peer pressure as chagrined as I am to admit, I ignored my spark of rage at everyone's behavior, but I didn't forget it by any means. Having my name come out of that stupid magical goblet was indeed humiliating. There I was, not really caring who was picked and only there because of one Ronald Weasley (another case of peer pressure that I deigned not to argue with at that moment in time), minding my own business. Then out of the blue, my name was called.

The teachers were awful. Ludo Bagman thought it was exciting that I should be in the competition. Dumbledore pushed me around demanding that I tell the truth. I told them the truth. I saw the gleam of the Hogwarts teacher's minds. Use the girl as bait.

Never mind the concept of asking the person if you could use them as bait because apparently that may have been registered as invasive.

The other school's Headmaster and Headmistress were accusing foul play, to redo the ceremony. No, according to the ministry fools, what was done was done and I had to compete. Not even interested in a silly thing that promises a ridiculous concept of glory to those competing and I was being forced to compete alongside these gullible children.

I didn't think it could get worse until after I'd left the room after having accusations thrown at me for breaking rules and entering my name. A student calling me a cheat was already bad enough. Then along came a redheaded boy on a tandem of anger.

He felt betrayed. He was angry. He lashed out. He told me off for something that was so evidently not possible to be my fault. He accused me of being an attention-seeker.

This is a concept that I still cannot fathom as to why I'm always accused of by those around me. The boy had known me from the first train ride to the school. I don't believe I ran around showing my scar to everyone. Everyone just wanted to see it. I never implied that I liked attention or gained it in such a way as to be that idea of self-involved.

Blimey, even Lucius Malfoy seemed intent on seeing it using his cane to brush aside hair that covered it. However if he touches me with that thing again, I'm going all Girl with the Dragon Tattoo on his arse with it. Bet that'll make him squeal like a damn pig he is.

Everyone in the school seemed to be on a campaign to destroy me through mental abuse and even sometimes physical. I had been called many foul names (not that it really bothered, but it was the idea that they said these things) and had been pushed, knocked into, and literally tripped. The physical part made me hostile like a rattlesnake.

I had half a mind to transfigure many things into snakes and send them slithering after the masses. Bet that would give them a real excuse to be assaulting toward me.

And then, after the First Task, it was like these incidents were nonexistent. Fancy that.

It felt right that I dropped all pretenses to succumb to peer-pressure right about the time that the school announced the upcoming Yule Ball. I turned down many people. I wasn't going to go with anyone. I remembered how they all acted in the beginning. It was demeaning that they thought me so easy-going that I would allow those who were so awful to me to escort me to a ridiculous affair.

It's bad enough that I date arseholes, but to be thought to be taken by the concept of a ball filled with frilliness and frivolity and so be ever so grateful as a female to be asked to such an esteemed soiree (read sarcasm) grated my nerves.

Sometimes I really do believe the idea that I have to be grateful for whatever anyone throws my way because I'm a woman seems to be an insult to my fore-mothers' efforts in the crusade for women's rights. Despite the efforts shown in the Tales of the Beetle and the Bard, women's rights do not seem to be at all realized in the wizarding world. Only a few things have really been allowed to pass without friction such as inheritance.

It is however interesting to see how the tables turn and that I hold the power. None of which was received well. My Head of House grew rather irate with me and had called me into office for the seventh time earlier yesterday. Apparently my inherent bitchiness was out and on a rampage making another member of the male gender cry.

I was sure she was going to throw an Unforgivable Curse at me when I stated haughtily, "Imagine my surprise that all of you are too incompetent to handle a bit of respectable foreplay."

It wasn't that great of a deal. It was Cormac McLaggen. He deserved more than a harsh tone and a few well-placed words that cut. He needed a good broad-side of a board to the rear.

And perhaps a steel-toe boot aimed at his head.

That boy was very well noted as one of the people who wore that particular smear badge and was rather ballsy to ask anything of me.

Hermione's earlier honey badger comment flattered me to no end much to her amusement. According to Hermione's Arithmancy Professor, I had a worse temper than either of my parents lately and he was slightly taken aback at how hostile I was towards my fellow students. Hermione had thought it humorous that he had asked after me. According to her, he really seemed to be ready to hit the floor when I indeed came to full explosion.

And to think I thought that my temper had been positively dragon-esque during my pregnancy.

The sad thing is that I haven't been very outright mean in any sense. I just called it like I saw it and didn't seem to bother sparing details let alone feelings. If I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to be honest and I was honest in the extreme.

Statistically speaking, making seven boys cries seems hardly controversial considering the number of their gender in this large school that not only had its own male population, but two other school's population to consider.

I sighed and quickly closed the letter for my O.W.L. results. I put the results in the bottom of my trunk. Then I proceeded to stand and get to the shower before anyone else woke up.

Drying off, I yanked on the green lace underwear that would have Andromeda ripping my throat out if she ever saw again. I had promised to throw them out as according to her no one my age should wear something so boudoir-esque. I pulled my hair up into a braid before slapping some vintage make-up on after placing in some clear contact lenses that I rarely ever used during school.

Normally, I wouldn't bother at school with anything to do with fashion, but since opening a store dedicated to the theme, it made sense to reflect some knowledge especially if Rita Skeeter ever found out and reported on me. However I hadn't really dressed up at all at the school and usually left this kind of style back in the muggle world, but today I was up early and needed to be doing something besides convincing the house-elves to clean the tower again despite efforts on Hermione's part to liberate them with knitted clothing.

After finishing with my make-up, I headed in back to my dorm room and proceeded to pull on nude stockings, a knee-length navy leather skirt and white blouse under a black cardigan. The navy blue military coat went over the outfit and match the navy blue knee-high snow boots. I completed the look with a fake Tahitian pearl that looked deep blue in sheen before pulling my hair loose and shaking it out.

And still nobody was awake. Thank whomever.

Of course, it was twelve thirty in the morning.

I decided to use the Black house elf called Kreacher (a very overwhelming pleasant elf when you are nice to him despite his nasty contempt for everything not pureblood-related) to travel to a wizarding village, Shylock. It was a little quiet wizarding village with a very small and pleasant pub that was open at all times. The pub smelled and looked clean and entirely warm and cozy with its dark colored wood and used furniture.

Shylock was also a very nice place to escape to when you have your elf steal that tricky auror's revolving eye just so he didn't know you'd left the castle. Apparently, the details of the case were unknown to me. However I do think that nobody seems to be able to figure out who the culprit is.

Also a thing to be thankful for is that when a house elf puts glamour on you, nobody but an elf can take the spell down hence the glamour for very pale blonde hair and equally pale violet eyes.

Kreacher left me in the road near the pub surrounded by quaint little stone cottages and thatch roofs that seemed a little fire-friendly to those of us with pyro tendencies. When in doubt and smashing and chopping at it doesn't work, set it on fire. Of course, that was considered the incorrect approach when trying to catch that monster book we had to buy third year. Tom the owner of the Leaky Cauldron still won't let that go. Let alone give me back my zippo.

Dramatic wanker.

He also didn't like me referring to wizards and witches as a subspecies of Homo sapiens. I cannot imagine why though. I implied that muggles were also an opposing subspecies with capabilities of interbreeding with ours. Apparently, Tom and many others lack the clarity to see humor let alone understand speciation.

It's also evident that the hardcore purebloods have their heads shoved up Galton's rear with their eugenic-esque views.

Then again, it could've been when I implied that wizarding society was childish, dramatic, and stupid in comparison to muggle as there was no logical excuse to spell a book to behave animalistic toward an individual.

You really cannot argue with someone who doesn't realize that they're an idiot for thinking you're being inappropriate.

After entering the pub and ordering a hot cider, I preceded to occupy a corner of the room that had visibility to all those who were in the pub. The room was surprisingly filled with several individuals, but then I remembered that there had been a big charity event sometime last night and apparently some were still drinking. Since I had finished all homework, muggle university and wizarding alike, I pulled out a book by Erica Jong called Becoming Light that I had been meaning to read.

Enjoying my book and cider, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A flash of white silk and a familiar face. I looked up and wrinkled my nose at the sight of Lucius Malfoy with two other men, conversing silently with one another. I suppose if you were planning something menacing, you'd do it in this pub where little to no one would notice you.

I caught storm grey eyes that were almost entirely unnoticeable by the dilation of his pupils. I proceeded to give him a once over and then disregard him entirely. Apparently, I had been noticed doing this by his companions as they smirked menacingly at Malfoy. Perhaps goading him to be adventurous or whatever they were thinking.

I didn't much care as my book was far more fascinating than an older man and his silly and equally old companion's social behaviors. I couldn't imagine that much was going on in those brains either. All three looked equally ridiculous in their out-dated costumes. Although to be fair, it is nice to see some cleaned up men after seeing the boys my age. I wanted to crack all the boys my age in between the eyes with a stick half the time.

The thought made me physically smirk. That smirk faded when I felt more than saw a person sit down next to me. I ignored Malfoy completely and continued reading.

It wasn't attractive to smell liquor on any one. I had a bad history with drunken people and I ran a dry household for that very reason. Unless it's used in a dish of food, it doesn't need to be used at all was the reach of what little that I allowed.

I'll give the man credit though. Even smelling of liquor and clearly still overcoming intoxication, he still had the innate ability to annoy me. It was clearly a latent talent especially in expressing patient silence.

He clearly was out of his league with playing the silent game. I had years of practice in my cupboard under the stairs at my childhood house. Home would imply belonging and the Dursleys ensured that I never made the mistake of thinking that I belonged there.

I finished my cider and read quite further into my book. I noticed briefly that his companions had finally left as they seemed to lose interest in the battle of solitude. The book was sassy and shocking. Probably not something that I should be reading at my age and when I noticed the time on my watch, I put away my book and proceeded to leave. He stood up before I did and stepped aside as I walked past him to the door.

Hopefully the next visit wouldn't involve being watched. I didn't really want to find a new location to have alone time. However it would be pleasant to find an excuse to crack him over the head with his own cane.

Oh, how smirk worthy that silver-lining was.

He probably would not return, I thought brightly. My quiet spot would not be compromised.

Notes:

So how do you like the story so far? Leave comments, please.

Yes, this Harry is a girl, but I hope that will not deter you. I just wanted to try to do this side of the subject. There are not a lot of good fem-Harry stories and I hoped to write a good one.

Like? Don't? Let me know.

If you have any off the wall baby names for a girl, tell me. I'm curious. I was thinking either Valkyrie or Viorica. Curious minds becoming curiouser.

Thank you for reading.

Ps. Nathaniel Medraut-Applesnow is the baby's father to help one reviewer out.