It was the loud noise that drew me from my peaceful slumber. The first thing I noticed when I came around were the sounds of arguing. I lied there unsure if I wanted to open my eyes. I tried telling myself that it was all a dream and I was back in my room, in my house. If only.

"Where d'you think you're going? " Someone yelled. Sounds of pounding footstep then— "I haven't finished with you, boy!"

"Get out of the way", someone said so quietly, yet with a dangerous tone, that I barely made out the words.

"You're going to stay here and explain who that girl is and how my son—"

"If you don't get out of the way I'm going to jinx you," Said someone, even tho I had a feeling who that someone was, since the conversation sounded disturbingly familiar.

"You can't pull that one on me! I know you're not allowed to use it outside that madhouse you call a school!"

"The madhouse has chucked me out", said, I guess, Harry. "So I can do whatever I like. You've got three seconds. One — two —" There was a sudden CRACK; someone, a woman, screamed, a man yelled and I instantly sat up. I was in what seemed a living room, the sound coming from the kitchen to my left. An anguished yell of "OWLS" filled the the space. The same black haired boy from the alley crossed the room with hurried, loud steps and wrenched the window open. I couldn't see what was beyond the window, but I had a pretty good feeling. Which made me nauseous and aw-struck at the same time. Before I could freak out again, the women had noticed me awake and was moving towards me. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" She asked me, like I knew the answer. "I don't know." I said truthfully. Because I really had no idea. My answer didn't seem to satisfy her. Not even close. "You don't know!? Don't know!?" She was shouting, her voice shrill and demanding. It got everyone's attention. Her husband charged at me, his purple temple throbbing. "Now listen to me girl I don't know who you are or where you came from, but if you don't tell me right now..." My head was spinning, my heart pounding. I didn't know. I. Didn't. Know. Anything. "I DON'T KNOW!" I shouted. There was a sound of glass breaking. On instinct I hid behind the couch while windows around me exploded. Glass everywhere. I was frozen, terrified. Did I do that? No, this was insane. There was heavy silence, no one moving, staring at me in shock and rage. "What—"he looked around, horrified by the result of my outburst. "You dare to bring another...another of your kind here boy?!" The man yelled towards the skinny, black haired boy. "I didn't... I don't know who she is! I've never seen her before!" The boy shouted back. Everyone stared at me, afraid to set me off again, yet burning to ask, or on the man's case to choke me. I took a deep breath. There had to be some logical explanation to all of this. I took my smartphone out of my pocket, hoping, yet again sighing with disappointment. I looked up. Everyone was staring at the smartphone in my hands, like they've never seen one before. But that couldn't be right, could it? I opened my mouth,

"Can I use your phone?"

"Wh—" The man started to ask, but before he could finish I was on my feet. I hurried around the room, looking around, searching. I didn't care that I was being rude. I was on a brink of freaking out. If I wasn't already. I tried not to pay any attention to the little details, that told me that I would not be finding what I was looking for or that it even excised. Like that wide-screen tv, which looked more like a box with blurry pictures than an actual flat-screen-HD-tv I had at home. Or that peach, and salmon-pink, furniture. It wasn't hard to find the phone, but it didn't look like anything I was used to. Or knew how to use. That feeling I felt at the pit of my stomach came back. I turned to the black haired boy whit glasses who was staring at me whit a frown.

"Um, what year is it?" I asked in a bit shaky voice. He looked at me like I was insane, which I was. But still answered.

"1995" I felt like the ground was shaking, which, by the shouts of others, actually was. A hand grabbed me. I stared at the bright green eyes that met mine. "You'll get us into more trouble. Calm down." he said. And I did, or at least, the ground had stopped shaking. This time I really looked at him. Green eyes, yet-black tousled hair, round-rimmed glasses and a freaking lightning shaped scar on his forehead. I laughed hysterically, not able to take it anymore. "Let me guess, you're Harry Potter" I looked at the others "The long-necked woman is Petunia Dursley, the red-faced man is Vernon Dudley and the big bully is Dudley" I forcefully pulled my arm out of his grip. "Let's cut the crap short, okay? Because it's not funny anymore. Either you tell me what's really going on and who set this up or I'll make you regret it." I waited for someone to speak up or come out and tell me it was a prank. Instead the boy said "If you're talking about the dementors th—"

"Oh, cut the crap will you!" I clutched my head, closed eyes and tried to calm down by focusing. I had to be dreaming. Yet I wasn't. Maybe I've gone mad but how can you know when it's only in your head. I felt stuck. I was stuck. Stuck in a place of my dreams, yet a very vivid one. There was only one thing left to do. I pinched myself on the arm and opened my eyes. The slight sting felt real and I was still in my dream land looking at the boy named Harry freaking Potter. "I think I need to lie down" I said and not waiting for an answer went back to the couch and lied back down, closing my eyes. There was a clatter of something landing, probably another owl. I tuned out the voices of arguing and let the Mr. famous Harry Potter deal with his own problems. I didn't belong here. Then how did I get here? I didn't want to remember, but had to. I recalled the alley, the hooded figures, then before that, how I woke up on the street. The strange thing was that everything before that was a bit blurry like it was a dream and this was the reality. I remembered reading the books and getting sick. The fight with my dad. Mom's death. It was all there and with it the pain. The pain I hid from for this past week, pretending like I was the same person. Hiding. Always hiding. But not anymore. Not when I had nothing to lose anymore. Not the world I knew, not my home, dad, or mom. The mom that always brought light into everything she put her mind to. Including me.

I guess it took some time for me to sort out my thought, because the next thing I knew was Harry's uncle stomping over to the window and slamming it shut. I couldn't see the point in that since the window's glass was broken anyway. My bad. At the same time muttering distractedly.

"Enough — effing —owls... " Guess Harry got another owl. Typical. This time I gave up on trying to tune them out. No matter. I already knew what was going to happen. I might as well enjoy it.

"Well?" Asked Harry's uncle impatiently "What now? Have they sentenced you to anything? Do your lot have death penalty?" I could tell that he was hopeful, but he'd have to be disappointed.

"We've got to go to a hearing," said Harry. Wait, what? What's a we?

"And they'll sentence you both there?"

"I suppose so."

"I won't give up hope, then", said his uncle nastily. Rude guy.

"Well, if that's all," said Harry desperately. He probably wanted some time alone. Couldn't blame him since I was pretending to be asleep so just I wouldn't have to talk to them.

"NO, IT RUDDY WELL IS NOT ALL!" bellowed his uncle. "SIT BACK DOWN!"

"What now?" said Harry impatiently.

"DUDLEY!" roared Vernon. "I want to know exactly what happened to my son and what that girl has to do with it!"

"FINE!" yelled Harry. Seems like someone lost his temper.

"Dudley and I were the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk," said Harry, speaking fast. "Dudley thought he'd be smart with me, so I pulled out my wand but didn't use it. That's when she showed up, I guess she heard us arguing. Then two dementors turned up—" I shuddered remembering how it felt to be in their presence.

"But what ARE dementoids?" asked his uncle furiously. "What do they DO?"

"I told you—they suck all the happiness out of you" said Harry, "and if they get the chance they kiss you—" funny, but in that moment he seemed stupider than in the book. Maybe it had something to do with actually hearing the word instead of reading them. I mean, the guy did not need to know that some creature he's never seen almost sucked out his son's soul.

"Kiss you?" said Vernon. "Kiss you?"

"It's what they call it when they suck the soul out of your mouth." ...and he went on and explained it. Talk about plain stupidness. Upon hearing those words his aunt uttered a soft scream. Couldn't blame her. I'd be freaked out too. In a way I already was.

"His soul? They didn't take — he's still got his—"

"Of course they didn't get his soul, you'd know if they had," said Harry, exasperated.

"Fought 'em off, did you, son?" said Vernon loudly. I almost laughed out laud since the only thing Dudley had the brains to fight off was Harry. "Gave 'en the old one-two, did you?"

"You can't give a dementor the old one-two," said Harry through clenched teeth. Couldn't really blame him from being annoyed, I was from just listening to the conversation.

"Why's he all right, then?" blustered Vernon. Why isn't he all empty, then?"

"Because he was protected by the Patronus charm she—"

There was a WHOOSH and yet another owl came. I opened my eyes, curious and sat up.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE!" roared Harry's uncle, pulling great clumps of hair out of his mustache. "I WILL NOT HAVE OWLS HERE, I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS, I TELL YOU!"

Harry didn't seem to listen, because he was already pulling a roll of parchment from the owl's leg. Vernon kept ranting about owls and scowling at the fireplace where the owl took off back the chimney, while Harry read the message. He stared at it some time completely ignoring his uncle's rankings. "—a peck, I mean, pack of owls shooting in and out of my house and I won't have it, boy, I won't—"

"I can't stop the owls coming'" Harry snapped, crushing the letter, which was probably from his godfather, in his fist.

"I want the truth about what happened tonight!" barked Vernon. "If it was demenders who hurt Dudley, how come you've been expelled? You did you-know-what, you've admitted it!"

Harry was quiet for a few moments, I could tell he was exhausted.

"It wasn't me who got rid of the dementors by using the Patronus charm. It's the only thing that works against them." before his uncle could ask again I shouted.

"What?" because as far as I knew this wasn't how the story went. Everyone turned to me, which brought the attention back to me, but I didn't care.

"You did the Patronus charm, but for some reason the ministry thinks I cast it." said Harry.

"Um, no I didn't. I can't use magic!" maybe I've excepted the fact that I was in Harry Potter land, or somewhere similar. But I did not and wasn't going to except the fact I could do magic. I had enough on my plate as it was.

"But what were dementors doing in Little Whinging?" said Vernon in tones of outrage. Good question.

"Couldn't tell you," said Harry wearily. "No idea."

"It's you, both of you," said his uncle forcefully. "Why else would they turn up here? Why else would they be down that alleyway? You've got to be the only — the only —" I couldn't really understand why it was so hard for him to say a simple word "wizards." Not that I was one. "The only you-know-what for miles."

"I don't know why they were here. ..." oh no, he was thinking. Actually I don't know why it took him so long to figure out. The most evil guy that wanted him dead just came back to life. Of course shit would come down.

"These demembers guard some weirdos' prison?" asked Vernon. Guess Harry hasn't been the only one thinking.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Oho! They were coming to arrest you!" said his uncle triumphantly. Guess, he really was as stupid as was written in the books. Which, kinda still amazed me. "That's it, isn't it, boy? You're on the run from the law!" um, do you see him running?

"Of course I'm not," said Harry, shaking his head.

"Then why—?"

"He must have sent them," said Harry quietly, more to himself than everyone else.

"What's that? Who must have sent them?"

"Lord Voldemort" said Harry.

"Uhh... Just because everyone els calls him "Lord" doesn't mean you have to." I said, not that anyone seemed to hear me. Too engrossed in the the topic of "Lord" Voldemort.

"Lord—hang on, " said Vernon, his face screwed up, wow he really must be thinking hard. Should I give him a hint?

"I've heard the name...that was the one who..." almost there...

"Murdered my parents," said Harry.

"But he's gone," said Vernon impatiently. "The giant bloke said so. He's gone." What giant bloke? Was he talking about Dumbledore?

"He's back," said Harry heavily. There was a heavy silence for a few moments, even I felt it.

"Back?" whispered Petunia. She was looking at Harry with a weird look on her face.

"Yes," Harry said, talking directly to his aunt now. "He came back a month ago. I saw him." the words felt heavy, too real.

"Hang on," said Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back again. "Hang on. This Lord Voldemort is back you say." I have a bad feeling about this.

"Yes."

"The one who murdered your parents."

"Yes."

"And now he's sending dismembers after you?"

"Looks like it,"said Harry.

"I see," said Vernon, even tho he really didn't. "Well, that settles it," he said, inflating himself, "you can get out of this house, boy!"

"What?" said Harry stupidly.

"You heard me—OUT! BOTH OF YOU!" Vernon bellowed, and even Petunia and Dudley jumped. Guess they haven't forgotten me after all. He kept going about wanting us both out and how he had to deal whit Harry's crap, but no more. I tuned him out. Already had enough stress without adding him to it. He kept screaming at Harry's face, which I was kid of glad about, because then he wasn't able to scream at mine's.

Finally, there was a bellow of "—OWLS!" and possibly the last owl zoomed down the chimney, hitting the floor before zooming into the air again with a loud screech. Harry raised his hand to seize the letter, which was in scarlet envelope, but it soared straight over his head, flying directly at his aunt, who let out a scream and ducked, her arms over her face. The owl dropped the red envelope on her head, turned, and flew straight up the chimney again.

Before Harry could dart to pick up the letter, I seized his arm and said, "Don't. It's not for you." He stared at me, and strangely, listened to me without saying a word.

"Let go of it, Petunia!" roared Vernon. "Don't touch it, it could be dangerous!"

"It's addressed to me," said Petunia in a shaking voice. "It's addressed to me, Vernon, look! Mrs. Petunia Dursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive—"

She caught her breath, horrified. The red envelope had begun to smoke. How did they call those? Howlers?

"Open it!" Harry urged her. "That's a Howler. If you don't open—"

"No—"

Petunia's hand was trembling. She looked widely around the kitchen, searching for an escape route, but wasn't quick enough—the envelop burst into flames. Which, I thought was a bit dramatic. Petunia screamed and dropped it.

An awful voice filled the living room, echoing, coming from the burning letter.

"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."

I could admit that the effect was great. Petunia looked as though she might faint. She sank into the chair beside Dudley, her face in her hands. The remains of the envelope turning into ash.

"What is this?" said Vernon hoarsely. "What—I don't—Petunia?"

Petunia said nothing. Dudley was staring stupidly at his mother, his mouth hanging open. The silence felt horrible, even for me.

"Petunia, dear?" said Vernon timidly. "P-Petunia?"

She raised her head, trembling, and swallowed.

"The boy—the boy will have to stay, Vernon," she said weakly.

"W-what?"

"He stays," she said. She got to her feet again.

"He...but Petunia..."

"If we throw him out, the neighbors will talk," she said. Lame excuse, if you ask me. "They'll ask awkward questions, they'll want to know where he's gone. We'll have to keep him."

"But Petunia, dear—" Vernon started, but Petunia ignored him.

"You're to stay in your room," she said to Harry. "You're not to leave your house. Now get to bed." Harry didn't move.

"Who was that Howler from?"

"Don't ask questions," his aunt snapped. Harry looked at me. Glad he hadn't forgotten me.

"But what about her?" he motioned to me. Huh, only did now I realized that they never asked my name. Not that I was willing to share.

"She'll have to go back were she came from." she said, not looking at me, like I wasn't even there.

"But—"

"I told you to get to bed!"

"Your aunt is right Harry. You should go." I said, not sure what I was doing. Harry shook his head.

"No, not until—"

"Go to bed!" said his aunt.

"How come—?"

"YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW. GET TO BED!" roared his uncle. Harry looked at me one more time and I nodded for him to go. I could deal with them. He left, and I was alone with the meanest family of muggles that wanted me out of their house. Nice. I could totally deal with this.

Wow. Sorry for not updating. How you can see, this chapter is way longer than the last two and was quite difficult to write. Hope you liked it. If you did, Please share your thoughts and tell me what you enjoyed and what could be done better. I could really use your opinion.

Also, a huge thank you to those who reviewed. You're the reason for keeping this story going.

Until next time — Valemel(s) :)