The stolen-part 3- in which our hero has an identity crisis

Thanks you all for all the support.

Disclaimer: I am but a humble fan. If I did in fact own Harry Potter and Supernatural I wouldn't be writing this!

Warning: Bad spelling, grammar, and big ol' plot holes the size of Texas.

Apologies: please excuse the poor excuse of a goblin name. I've never been very good at coming up with names.

A note: this chapter went a completely different way then which I originally intended.

The Stolen- part 3-

At first all she could do was sit and stare at her family's (the Potter's family's?) vault wall. Absolutely nothing made a lick of sense. Everything she ever thought she knew was a lie. It was funny, for a long time now all she wanted was to be was just Holly. She had survived her war, lived with the burden of being a child of prophecy and she had truly thought that now was her time. Her time to be just Holly.

It was strange though. Ever since she had discovered that she was the-girl-who-lived and it seemed that no one would ever let her be just Holly she had fantasized about being someone else. A normal girl. ..Annie Winchester. She wondered if Annie Winchester would have been an ordinary girl… maybe this was her chance to be Annie Winchester?

10 minutes into her stupor her account manager, a grumpy old goblin by the name of Bluntknock, interrupted her from her pitting party. Bluntknock, like all goblins, was somewhat surly with her but that was ok. The goblins had never really gotten over her, shall we say, unauthorized tour and subsequence acquisition of a somewhat unusual souvenir…

He wanted to review her estate portfolio with her (the reason she had originally come that day) but the very idea of doing something so totally mundane at that moment in time made her snort, then chuckle until it suddenly bubbled over into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. She had just discovered she wasn't who she always believed herself to be and it all seemed completely and utterly bonkers!

"Ms Potter! Really! This is very…"

"Oh no!"

Holly sighed in between shallow breathes.

"Don't call me that!"

He had looked at her as if she had completely lost it, and she had to admit (at least to herself) that maybe she had.

"Then what should I call you?"

He asked, his beady black eyes scrutinizing her over half moon glasses.

She brushed a tear from her eye. (Had she really laughed so hard that she had started to cry?)

"Anything but That…"

She had turned on her heals and left, without a backwards glance, leaving a flabbergasted goblin behind her. Holly Potter was well known for being polite and respectful to everyone regardless of their status or magical heritage but then again she wasn't really Holly Potter now was she.

She had left Gringotts's after that and then she left England. Within 6 hours she found herself in Paris wondering the streets like some lost tourist. By nightfall she found herself staying in very stylish room in a hotel just off the Champs-Élysées.

It was here that she finally had time to sit and think about her next move. Well not think really. She already knew what she was about to do. She had a destination. Lawrence, Kansas. She had 5 names. John and Mary Winchester (her Parents?) and Dean and Samuel Winchester (her brothers?). Then there was Annie Winchester… was she Annie Winchester or Holly Potter. She wasn't sure, but at that moment it didn't matter. She was too tired to think and the dark sweet abyss that was sleep called to her…

September 31, 2001 Lawrence, Kansas.

Holly didn't like psychics. After the disaster one psychic in particular had caused her she had started to avoid them on principle. But after being in Lawrence for over a month she felt she had no other choice. It seemed all roads lead to Missouri Mosely.

Her search had started out all right and she found it somewhat ironic that her new laptop, of all things, had quickly become her new best friend. She had found the countless articles of her abduction on the net and read them all with morbid curiosity. From the articles she had discovered the address of the Winchester family, and utilizing her Gryffindor courage, she approached the house on the same day only to discover, to her disappointment, that the Winchester family no longer lived in the house, and hadn't for nearly 17 years. The current owners didn't have any forwarding address.

She had spent the rest of that evening knocking on doors looking for anyone who know anything about the Winchester family. What she discovered disturbed her.

"The daughter, went missin'"

One particular woman informed her with a strange eagerness for gossip that she had, until now, only ever seen in her aunt.

"People said that, the wife, Mary Winchester killed that poor little thing, Annie I think, and then a few months later…"

She leaned forward, her voice lowering to an excited whisper as if she was about to divulge some terrible conspiracy.

"John Winchester Killed Mary."

For a moment Holly's blood ran cold but she quickly quieted her frantic heart. It was just gossip. Aunt Petunia liked to gossip. The wizarding world liked to gossip. Lord knows what god awful things were circling the rumor mill about her back in England. She decided then and there that she'd have to take everything she heard from this woman with a grain of salt.

"Was he ever charged?"

She found herself asking in a calm and pleasant voice. The woman looked at her with large eager eyes.

"no, the official story is that she died in an electrical fire, but my Jake was a fireman working that night and he said that electrical fires start in the walls not in the ceilings and the body was never found, burnt to a crisp…"

Over the next few weeks she had heard the same story over and over again. From what she could gather after the loss of his wife John Winchester had taken his two sons and left Lawrence never to be seen again. Well almost. One other name did pop up from time to time. It seemed John Winchester would return to Lawrence periodically and visit with a local psychic…

And that was why she found herself in the sitting room of one Missouri Mosely. Psychic. She wasn't hard to find. She was listed in the phonebook.

Missouri had taken one look at her standing nervously on her front boor step and nodded her head to herself in self satisfaction before saying in a strong clear voice

"Your late Annie Winchester… or do you prefer Holly?"

hey hope you enjoyed! Suggestions are always welcome. I'm kind of proud of this chapter. I think it's the best I have written so far. So review if you can find the time and tell me what you think. Thanks once again for reading!