Author's Note: This was the chapter that was hardest to write credible differences for. But I can't rewrite the whole series and not include this incredibly important chapter. Consider this one final chapter of mostly the same for each girl before the differences from each other and from canon start coming fast.

There is at least one important difference from canon in this chapter that will start to echo out in repercussions later for each girl, though. Let me know if you spot it.


Imogen Three

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands - now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he'd brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. He wore boots and a black leather jacket.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup of tea, could you?" he said casually in a thick West Country accent. "It's not been an easy journey."

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, you great lump," said the stranger.

Dudley paused - and then moved slowly, carefully, clearly terrified, in front of Imogen to shield her. Imogen paused in surprise, touched. "What - what do you want with her?" he demanded in a trembling voice. "Are you going to hurt her?"

The giant's expression seemed to soften. "Maybe I didn't give you enough credit," he admitted. "Don't you worry. I don't mean her no harm."

"Duddy! Come over here!" Aunt Petunia was hissing.

Dudley looked backward at Imogen. "It's okay, Dudley," she said, her eyes gentle, understanding. "You can go."

Dudley walked across the room to his parents and as he did a gap widened between him and Imogen, a gap that seemed somehow more than physical. He hid behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon. Imogen was left sitting alone in front of the sofa - very alone indeed.

"Well, and here's Imogen!" said the giant.

Imogen looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Last time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "You look a lot like your Dad, you're a true Potter, but you've got your Mum's eyes."

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, you great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Anyway - Imogen," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to you. Got something for you here - I might've sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Imogen opened it slowly. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Imogen written on it in green icing.

Imogen looked up at the giant. She meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to her mouth, and what she said instead was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Imogen's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no to something stronger if you've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled crisp bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Imogen felt the warmth wash over her as though she'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant snorted again, and instead passed the sausages to Imogen, who was so hungry she had never tasted anything so wonderful. But she still couldn't take her eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, she said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. And like I told you, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - you'll know all about Hogwarts, of course."

"Er - no," said Imogen.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Imogen said quickly.

"Sorry?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them that should be sorry! I knew you weren't getting your letters but I never thought you wouldn't even know about Hogwarts, for crying out loud! Did you never wonder where your parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Imogen.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait just one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean to tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this girl - this girl! - knows nothing about - about ANYTHING?"

Imogen thought this was going a bit far. She had been to school, after all, and her marks weren't bad.

"I know some things," she said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Your parents' world."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Imogen.

"But you must know about your mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My - my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"You don't know… you don't know…" Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Imogen with a bewildered stare.

"You don't know what you are?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he said. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the girl anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told her? Never told her what was in the letter Dumbledore left for her? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! And you've kept it from her all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Imogen eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil your heads, both of you," said Hagrid. "Imogen - you're a witch."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a what?" gasped Imogen.

"A witch, of course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "and a thumping good one, I'd say, once you've been trained up a bit. With a mum and dad like yours, what else would you be? And I reckon it's about time you read your letter."

Imogen stretched out her hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Miss I. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. She pulled out the letter and read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside Imogen's head like fireworks and she couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes she stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Galloping Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a carthorse, and from yet another pocket of his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Imogen could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given Imogen her letter.

Taking her to buy her things tomorrow.

Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Imogen realized her mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"She's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like to see a great Muggle like you stop her," he said.

"A what?" said Imogen, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. And it's your bad luck you grew up in a family of the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of her! Witch indeed!"

"You knew?" said Imogen. "You knew I'm a - a witch?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that - that school - and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frogspawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!

"Because you're just like her! I always knew it and this proves it! You're just as much of a freak as my sister was! Witches are Satanic, against the laws of nature! You know, I suppose, what they used to do to women they suspected were witches," she finished vindictively.

"Quite right," said Uncle Vernon in a hard voice. "Witches are unnatural women! They refuse to see their place in the world -!"

"Then I am a witch!" Imogen shouted defiantly, and the Dursleys paused in surprise. Imogen's face twisted, her hands in fists, and as she heard this extra prejudice against females with magic, she there and then made herself a promise. "And I am going to be the best damn witch I can be - the best the world's ever seen! I'll work as hard as I have to, train as much as I need! I'm going to be a witch, what you called a nasty woman, and I'm going to be a powerful one!

"Oh… and blown up? You told me my parents died in a car crash." Imogen's eyes narrowed.

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily and James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Imogen Potter not knowing her own story when every kid in our world knows her name, knows her as the Girl Who Lived!"

"But why? What happened?" Imogen asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble getting hold of you, how much you didn't know. Ah, Imogen, I don't know if I'm the right person to tell you - but someone's gotta - you can't go off to Hogwarts not knowing."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, it's best you know as much as I can tell you - mind, I can't tell you everything, it's a great mystery, parts of it…"

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it's incredible you don't know his name, everyone in our world knows -"

"Who?"

"Well - I don't like saying the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulping gargoyles, Imogen, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…"

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Imogen suggested.

"Nah - can't spell it. All right - Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don't make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started looking for followers. Got them, too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit of his power, because he was getting himself power, all right. Dark days, Imogen. Didn't know who to trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was taking over. 'Course, some stood up to him - and he killed them. Horribly. One of the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. Didn't dare try taking the school, not just then, anyway.

"Now, your mum and dad were as good a witch and wizard as I ever knew. Head boy and girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the mystery is why You-Know-Who never tried to get them on his side before… probably knew they were too close to Dumbledore to want anything to do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade them… maybe he just wanted them out of the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came to your house and - and -"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad - knew your mum and dad, and nicer people you couldn't find - anyway…

"You-Know-Who killed them. And then - and this is the real mystery of the thing - he tried to kill you, too. Wanted to make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killing by then. But he couldn't do it. That's why you're the Girl Who Lived. Never wondered how you got that mark on your forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what you get when a powerful, evil curse touches you - took care of your mum and dad and your house, even - but it didn't work on you, and that's why you're famous, Imogen. No one ever lived after he decided to kill them, no one except you, and he'd killed some of the best wizards and witches of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - and you was only a baby, and you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Imogen's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, she saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than she had ever remembered it before, and she remembered something else, for the first time in her life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching her sadly.

"Took you from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought you to this lot…"

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Imogen jumped; she had almost forgotten the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, girl," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley - I'm warning you - one more word…"

In danger of being speared on the end an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Imogen, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry - I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Imogen. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried to kill you. Makes you even more famous. That's the biggest mystery, see… he was getting more and more powerful - why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Don't know if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, biding his time, like, but I don't believe it. People who was on his side came back to ours. Some of them came out of kind of trances. Don't reckon they could've done if he was coming back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause something about you finished him, Imogen. There was something going on that night that he hadn't counted on - I don't know what it was, no one does - but something about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Imogen with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Imogen, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A witch? Her? How could she possibly be? She'd spent her life being protected by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if she was really a witch, why hadn't her aunt and uncle been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock her in her cupboard? If she'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had had to save her from every common schoolyard Muggle bully?

"Hagrid," she said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a witch."

To her surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Imogen looked into the fire. Now she came to think about it… every odd thing that had ever made her aunt and uncle furious with her had happened when she, Imogen, had been upset or angry… picked on by that bully, she'd somehow made his skin rot on contact… dreading going back to school with that ridiculous haircut, she'd managed to grow it back… hating that ugly secondhand dress, she'd shrunk it until it no longer fit her… feeling sorry for that snake, it had suddenly become attracted to her and she'd been able to talk with it.

Imogen looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at her.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Imogen Potter, not a witch - you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you she's not going?" he hissed. "She's going to Stonewall High and she'll be grateful for it. I've read those books and she needs all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and -"

"If she wants to go, a great Muggle like you won't stop her," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily and James Potter's daughter going to Hogwarts! You're mad. Her name's been down ever since she was born. She's off to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and she won't know herself. She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, for a change, and she'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled -"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head. "NEVER -" he thundered, "- INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Uncle Vernon - there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Uncle Vernon was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Imogen saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Aunt Petunia screamed. Pulling Uncle Vernon and Dudley into the other room, she cast one terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn't've lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant to turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left to do."

He cast a sideways look at Imogen under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if you didn't mention that to anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed to do magic, strictly speaking. I was allowed to do a bit to follow you and get your letters to you and stuff - one of the reasons I was so keen to take on the job -"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Imogen.

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself, but I - er - got expelled, to tell you the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half and everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's getting late and we've got lots to do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up to town, get all your books and that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it at Imogen.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don't mind if it wriggles a bit. I think I still got a couple of dormice in one of the pockets."