I do answer all signed questions and PMs. But since people are constantly asking, my profile pic is 4th year Harry.

Don't be discouraged by Harry's attitude toward Hermione in this chapter... everything will play out. *wink*

I will use pov changes a lot for story and character progression. I often find that one long story from one character's perception is never the way to go.

Harry can hide her scar much better than canonHarry. Long hair is both a blessing and a curse.

So if you haven't figured this out by now. The change causing A BUTTERFLY EFFECT in this universe, is Harry being conceived a day earlier. Different day, different sperm. Pretty simple. The ripple of change will continue to grow as the story goes on.

0000

0000

Beta'd by Osma77

0000

0000

Chapter 3: Beginnings

A dynamic system with evolution map f(t) displays sensitive dependence on initial conditions if points arbitrarily close become separate with increasing t. If M is the state space for the map f(t), then f(t) displays sensitive dependence to initial conditions if there is a δ0 such that for every point xEM and any neighborhood N containing x there exists a point y from that neighborhood N and a time τ such that the distance

D(ft(x ), ft(y) δ

The definition does not require that all points from a neighborhood separate from the base point x.

0000

0000

0000

0000

Today isn't going to be a good day. I can feel it. What if I don't get in?

His mother was still banging on the door.

Ugh. Leave me in peace.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, GET OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT! DO NOT MAKE ME COME IN TO GET YOU!"

Pulling his pillow over his head, he said to the door, "Five more minutes, Mum."

"DON'T FIVE MORE MINUTES ME, YOUNG MAN! UP! NOW!"

He heard her footsteps receding away down the stairs.

That woman is a nightmare.

Ron got out of bed as slowly as he could, keeping his head on the pillow until the rest of his body was hanging over the edge of the mattress. The sunlight pouring into his room was excruciatingly bright. He was the only Weasley in the house with a bedroom window facing east. Never would he be able to forgive the author of 101 Tricks to Birthing a Girl, who had suggested that the orientation of a future child's nursery would somehow help to determine its sex. Not even Ginny had to experience this torture as Mum had given up on a daughter after his birth.

Ron clumsily stumbled from the room, tripping over one of his many Chudley Cannons t-shirts on the way out.

I don't want to go to school. I want to sleep, play some chess, and sleep some more.

The bathroom was currently occupied and Fred, George, and Ginny were leaning against the wall outside it.

"One bathroom; nine people," Ron groaned out. "I think the one positive quality Dad lacks is the ability to plan ahead."

"Well hello to you too, Ronniekins," said Fred... or maybe it was George.

Not that it matters.

Ron leaned against Ginny and put his arms around her shoulders. "Gin… let me sleep on you."

Ginny pushed him off and said angrily, "You can use me as a pillow when you agree to write me letters every week."

Now it's every week? It'll be every day by breakfast!

"I told you, Gin, I'm going be too busy to write you letters all the time. Can't you just wait until Christmas to hear about it?"

Ginny adopted Mum's most effective 'I'm furious at you' glare.

"Fine then. I'll just use this wall."

"Fine," said his sister ambivalently.

"Fine," drawled Ron.

"FINE!" growled Ginny.

"FINE," the twins chimed in.

"Now both of you shut it," said Fred… or George.

"Because it's too early for shenanigans," said George… or Fred.

"Unless caused by us," they chorused in unison.

Percy opened the bathroom door and trooped out. Fred, George, and Ginny struggled to be the first one to get in next. Ron, being the master strategist that he was, dove on the floor, crawled through George's legs, stood, and shut the door behind him as they all continued to struggle.

After he had showered and changed, he clomped his way down to the kitchen. Mum was already busy at the stove, frying away.

Blegh. Monkey Candy. I hate bananas.

Grabbing some toast with marmalade, Ron headed out the door and down the little path to his father's shed. He pushed his way through the piles of muggle 'stuff that didn't work' and shouted, "Dad? Where are you?"

"Here," said a grunting voice from behind the... refidgerotor?

Walking around the tall, white cabinet, he found his father sitting on their ratty old bean-bag whilst tinkering with bits and ends from the enormous motorbike that had been occupying their shed for years.

"Hullo, Ron," said Dad cheerily. "All packed?"

Not even close.

"Oh… yeah. Listen, Dad, can I… can I ask you something?"

His father laughed under his breath. "Didn't you just? What's on your mind, son?"

Ron hesitated, dreading the answer to the question that had been eating at his nerves ever since the January morning that he had received his letter. "Well, Dad, what if I'm not… you know... in Gryffindor?"

His father stopped his work and looked up at him with a penetrating stare. "What do you mean by 'what if,' Ron? Are you asking me what I'd think?"

Ron nodded slowly.

Sighing, Dad patted the large bean-bag. "Come sit down, Ron."

He sank down into the squishy chair and watched in silence as his father banged a large, silver-looking instrument all around the wheels of the bike. It didn't seem to creating any sort of change. After several minutes of haphazard banging, his father asked softly, "Ron, do you remember when you caught that huge fish down in the stream without a line? How it just jumped right into your hands?"

"Yeah. It was pretty big."

"Do you remember how proud your mother and I were? Our son performed wandless magic at age five simply because he wanted fish for dinner. You're going to be a fine wizard one day, Ron. Not being in Gryffindor isn't going to stop that from happening." He ruffled Ron's hair. "Your mother and I will always be proud of you... no matter what house you're in."

"Even if I get put into Slytherin?"

His father chuckled and said warmly, "Yes Ron, even Slytherin. But we both know that if you get sorted into Slytherin, you'll leave the school out of your own volition."

Too right I would.

Dad patted him on the back of the neck. "Anything else?"

Ron shook his head.

"Good, glad I could help, son. Now, go pack."

He always knows.

An hour and a half later, Ron found himself smushed between the twins in the backseat of the Ford Anglia as they pulled into the Kings Cross parking lot.

Merlin's balls. I have to pee.

They made their way into the station with relative ease, despite Ginny somehow getting lost twice.

"Well, we have two hours," said his father slowly, gesturing around the large station. "Who wants what to eat?"

Cries of "PIZZA" and "PASTIES" and "PASTA" all echoed over Percy's monotone, "Salad, please."

They put their things down at a large table and Ron rushed as quickly as he could for the nearest bathroom.

Ahhhh, sweet relief.

He cleaned himself up and walked out.

WHAM

Ron collided into a small girl that must've been running at full-speed with her cart.

Well... not running... jogging... briskly. Well... maybe she was walking, but it still bloody hurt!

"Ouch!" cried the girl, clutching her head in pain with her eyes shut tight. "I'm sorry about that!"

"S'okay," Ron said a bit begrudgingly. He too rubbed his head where she had bumped it and noticed that she had an owl.

Must be going to Hogwarts too… or maybe she's a bird watcher's assistant… or maybe she's just a nutter.

Still clutching her head, the black-haired girl ran around him yelling, "Sorry again!"

With a wave of her hand, she was gone.

The black-haired girl seemed oddly familiar, yet Ron couldn't remember from where he knew her. He thought it might've had something to do with... candy.

Well, that could just be the toffee apple stand. Ohhh... toffee apple.

A girl was eating one of the heavenly sweets just a few feet away from him. She had monstrous, bushy, brown hair and large chocolate-colored eyes. She looked a bit like an owl if anything and she was staring… straight at him.

"That looked quite painful," she said pointedly. "Are you quite alright?"

Ron liked the tone of her voice. It was a bit like a sing-song. "Oh erm... yeah... m'fine. That looks good," he said, pointing at the apple.

"Oh yes, it really is delightful," agreed the girl exuberantly. She tried unsuccessfully to obtain a tiny bit of caramel at the corner of her lip that was out of reach for her tongue. "You should get one."

He looked at the both the apple and the little bit of caramel on her lip longingly. "Oh… um, no... I can't."

The girl walked towards him, leaned forward, and gazed quizzically into his eyes, as if he were a puzzle that she couldn't unravel. She tilted her head to the side and asked slowly, "Why not? Are you a diabetic?"

"No! I just… I can't afford it. A dia-what?"

The girl didn't show him any pity, which he appreciated. Instead, she cleared her throat and said in a scholarly, overbearing tone, "Diabetic: of or pertaining to diabetes which is a disorder characterized by the inadequate production of insulin. My Uncle is a diabetic."

Not understanding the vast majority of what the girl had just said, Ron simply replied, "Oh."

Seeming satisfied, the toffee apple girl nodded finitely and walked away.

When it was time to board the train, the Weasleys made their way over to Platform 9 in a large, noisy group and Ginny was getting extremely angry with him.

"Bugger off, Gin," he said, swatting her head like he would a fly.

"NO, RON, I WILL NOT!" she yelled in a rage.

Ron scoffed.

As fast as lightning Ginny switched her tactics. Clutching at his arm, she mumbled in a much softer, pleading voice, "Why won't you write to me, Ron? I'm your sister. Don't you love me? Just a few letters... please?" Her eyes got very big and she poked out her bottom lip.

Ugh.

"None of the others wrote us letters when we were home alone, Ginny. Why should I have to?"

"Because I won't have anyone, Ron! It'll just be me and Mum." She paused and started to sniffle. "And... And I want to know about Hogwarts! What if there really are mountain trolls at the sorting?"

"Don't use those fake tears on me, Ginny. We all know you never cry for real. I already said no... now leave me alone!"

His sister stomped her foot angrily and went back to stand by their mother, who bent down, wiped Ginny's eyes, glared at Ron, and gave her daughter the bag of sandwiches. Ginny ran off in a huff to a nearby bench.

His mother called out to her, "Ginny! Please don't eat all of those! They're for your brothers too!" She turned back to Ron. "Ron, dear, I wish you wouldn't upset your sister like that. You know how she can get. She'll be angry for days."

Yeah, well, I wonder where she got it from?

"Aren't you coming in?" he asked, preparing to charge through the barrier.

"No, we'll stay out here until Ginny has cooled off a bit. Your father wants to show me how the eclectic lamps work anyway. You go on ahead."

Ron nodded and ran.

The large, familiar steam engine suddenly loomed in front of him. There were people everywhere. There were students in robes, students in normal clothes, tearing parents sending their children away for the first time, and parents that looked exceedingly bored with the proceedings.

Ron spent ages trying to find the twins in the mess.

"Gran, I've lost my toad again," said a round faced boy to his grandmother.

"Oh Neville," he heard the old woman sigh.

Ron saw a small crowd gathered nearby. Someone shouted, "Give us a look, Lee! Go on!"

A dark-skinned boy bent down to open the box and a huge, hairy leg poked out from its depths.

SPIDER!

Jumping an entire foot into the air, Ron shrieked in an extremely high pitch that echoed all the way up to the rafters. As the platform went silent and the crowd looked up at him, he felt himself flushing all the way down to his toes.

One of the twins appeared out of nowhere and clapped him on the back. "Well done, Ronniekins."

The other twin materialized and did the same, adding, "We'll remember that one for years to come."

"Get bent, the both of you," Ron muttered grumpily.

The twins helped him load his trunk into a compartment and then went off to find Lee and his spider.

Which I'm sure is going to end up on my pillow tonight.

Just as Ron was about to get on the train, his nostrils flared. He could smell it long before he saw it.

Toffee apple.

Sure enough, through the crowd, walked the toffee-apple-stand girl, although she didn't seem to have any toffee apples on her person.

Probably shouldn't call her toffee-apple-stand girl. 'Hullo toffee-apple-stand girl. I'm Ron. Have any toffee apples?' Smooth. Very smooth.

She was trying to lift her trunk into a compartment, but was only halfway there. Her knees were bent at odd angles and he could tell she was not going to be able to get it in by herself. He walked up to her and asked politely, "Do you need some help with that then?"

"Oh no, I'm fine," she huffed without looking up.

Ron raised an eyebrow as he watched her struggle.

I think it's actually falling further out of the door.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

Breathlessly, the girl replied, "Oh yes, quite sure, thanks."

Finally, after watching her battle with the trunk for a full minute, Ron could take no more. He grabbed on to the bottom and together, with a mighty shove, they heaved the heavy box into the compartment .

The girl whirled on him with a belligerent expression on her face and started to say, "I told you... I didn't need your-"

Her words failed her when their eyes met.

"Hullo," Ron said with a cheery wave. "S'me again."

"So that's why you didn't know what a diabetic was! Because you're a wizard."

He was somewhat expecting to receive a cheery wave in return, but she just stood there, observing him as if he were some sort of... odd experiment.

"Oh, erm… yeah, I am."

The bushy-haired girl cocked her head, peering at him intently with her deep, chocolaty-brown eyes. It felt a bit like she was searching for something, even though her gaze never left his face.

Ron scratched his head nervously and shifted from foot to foot.

In a quiet, yet curt voice, the girl was the first to break the exceedingly awkward silence. "Thank you for helping me with my trunk. By the way, you have a bit of dirt on your nose. Just there."

Before Ron could do anything about the smudge, she licked her finger and began to ardently rub at his face. She was so very close and he was sure he could smell it in her hair.

Toffee-apple.

"There," the girl said. "That's much better." Without another word, she nodded in satisfaction, turned, and stepped onto the train, leaving him standing there feeling a bit like a tornado had just passed through his brain.

"Ron! Where are you?"

He snapped back to reality when he heard his mother's voice echoing out above the crowd.

Venturing back down the crowded platform, he saw the large crowd of Weasleys standing by the compartment into which he and the twins had placed their luggage. Ginny was back, handing out sandwiches to her brothers. She looked extremely happy, which was odd given their family's tendency to let their tempers run wild for days. She smiled up at him as he approached, handing him two sandwiches.

"Hullo," she said cheerily.

Now that Ginny wasn't desperately clinging to his arm and asking him to write to her, Ron felt extremely guilty that he said no in the first place. Seeing her happy and bouncing around made him feel wretched, because he realized that seeing her sad to see him leaving... well, it made him happy.

She's supposed to be sad! I'm her big brother! But... Oh bugger this.

"Ginny," he muttered apologetically. "Look, I'm sorry about before. Of… of course I'll write to you."

She smiled and patted him on the chest. "It's alright, Ronniekins. You don't have to."

Ron was utterly perplexed.

Where did that come from? I'm never going to understand what goes through her head. Girls are ridiculous.

Percy opened his mouth to chime in, "Can't stay long, Mother. I'm up front; the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves."

Ron noticed that his brother's badge now read, 'Peefect,' and he wondered how long it would take Percy to notice Fred and George's handiwork. Probably not until Penelope Clearwater laughed openly at him.

"Oh are you a Prefect, Percy?" marveled a twin giddily. "You should have said something!"

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin, dusting Percy's shoulders proudly. "Once-"

"Or twice-"

"A minute-"

"All summer-"

"Oh shut up," said the Peefect, slapping their hands away.

"Wait a mo'..." mumbled a twin indignantly, stepping closer to inspect Percy's clothing. "These are new! Mum, why does Percy get new robes and we don't?"

His mother gave the be-speckled redhead a sickeningly lovey, 'proud mum' look. "Because he's a Prefect. Alright, dear, have a good term; send me an owl when you get there."

Mum whirled on Fred and George as Percy walked off. "Now… you two. This year you will behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've… you've blown up a toilet or-"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet!"

"Great idea though. Thanks, Mum."

"It is not funny, Fred! And make sure you look after Ron."

Ron scoffed.

Them? Look after me? Ha.

"I'm not Fred! I'm George! Honestly wo-"

Mum wacked the protesting twin on the head. "You're Fred. You already tried that out at the barrier, dear. George had his hair parted in the other direction."

Fred and George grinned, pulled out two combs, and slicked their hair in the opposite directions. Smiling at Mum cheekily, they chimed in unison, "Are you sure I'm Fred?"

"Oh just get going... all of you."

Mum patted Ron on the cheek and Ginny hugged him.

"I promise, Gin... I'll write. I'll send you loads of letters."

The twins laughed. "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"

Mum shot them a death glare.

Climbing into his compartment, Ron was surprised to find someone already there, curled up on the bench, fast asleep.

"Blimey," said one of the twins in hushed whisper. "Someone's been up all night. Alright, we're going down the end of the train, Ron. Lee has got... well... he's got a surprise."

"I swear I'll kill you both if that spider ends up in my bed," he muttered angrily.

Fred and George chuckled conspiratorially and left the compartment.

Ron sighed in exasperation and turned. The cloak that the girl was using as a blanket had slipped away from her face.

His eyes widened as he realized that it was the very same girl who had collided with him outside the bathroom

I knew she was going to Hogwarts! Well, guess she's not a nutter then.

Ron couldn't help watching her as she slept. Her fingers we're twitching and her eyes were moving rapidly under her eyelids.

Must be some dream.

As if she had heard his thoughts, the girl moaned unhappily and her long, messy black hair fell into her face as the train jostled forward.

Ron noticed that her trunk sat beneath her. scrawled upon the front of it were little letters that said 'HLP'. His trunk said 'BAW'; Bill's of course.

He spent the next thirty minutes in silence, reading a Chudley Cannon's magazine he had brought along for the ride... or at least trying to read it that is. His traveling companion was having terrible dream; he could tell. Occasionally, she would moan and cry out. Wanting to do something to help, Ron grabbed one of the blankets off the top rail of the compartment, unfolded it, and placed it over her thin frame. His hand brushed across her hair as he did so and a pleasant feeling shot down his spine.

Weird... it's spiky... but it's soft... although... I'd wager that it's probably not as soft as toffee-apple-stand girl's. Hers looked like a big, silky marshmellow.

The compartment door slid open.

Well, speak of the devil.

Toffee-apple-stand girl sidled inside, accompanied by the boy who had lost his toad on the platform. But before either one of them had the chance to speak, a terrible, heart-wrenching wail erupted from the sleeping girl's mouth.

"AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!"

Ron spun.

The girl was clawing at her face; twitching and groaning. She raised her hands up as if prostrating herself before them. She thrashed violently, screaming. To Ron's horror, her body banged against the wall and a bloodstain remained where her head had collided with the wood.

She's going to break bloody her neck!

Ron did the only thing he could think of that would help her. He sat down next to her, pulled her to his chest, and hugged her tightly, restraining her arms and legs. She was still thrashing against him, crying in pain with her eyes shut tight, but she wasn't hitting anything... so that was a plus.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE," he cried out to toffee-apple-stand girl who was rooted to the spot, her chocolaty eyes wide with shock and fear. "GO AND GET HELP!"

Toffee apple stand girl seemed to jump back to reality, nodded franticly at him, and ran off, taking the round-faced boy with her.

The girl in his arms began to thrash so violently that she rolled them off the bench and onto the floor.

Merlin! She's not stopping. I… I think she's getting worse!

Blood from her wound was flowing everywhere. Ron could feel it; hot and dripping down onto his neck. She was screaming so loudly and he too was starting to panic. He couldn't do anything; he was useless. He didn't even realize that he was sobbing along with her. "I DON'T KNOW… I DON'T KNOW HOW… I'M SORRY!"

Ron searched his brain desperately for anything that might help.

What would Mum do? What... what would Dad do? Dad would... Dad would... right.

He reached around the girl and pulled her on top of him, grabbing both of her arms with just one of his. He reached up with the other arm, took the back of her head, and pulled it down to his shoulder. He leaned forward, put his lips to her ear, and whispered in the lightest voice he could manage, "It's okay. Shhhh. Come back to me, yeah?"

Over and over he whispered one of his father's favorite calming mantras to use on Ginny when she flew into a rage.

Over and over and over. "Come back to me."

And finally, slowly, the thrashing lost pace. Her arms snaked around his shoulders, holding tightly; holding him long after she had stopped seizing. Her head snuggled into his neck and eventually they began to breath in unison. When he breathed in, she breathed out. When he breathed out, she in.

It must have been several minutes that they lay there, their chests rising and falling together, before the girl sat back on her knees and opened her eyes. She pushed her hair back behind her ear.

"You brought me back. Th-Thank you."

BLOODY HELL! The lightning bolt scar! The green eyes! I have her chocolate frog card! IT'S HARRIET BLOODY POTTER!

0000

0000

0000

0000

She was lying on the grass with a large piece of faded newspaper that she had rummaged from the garbage bin. Around it were several broken crayons. Humming a tune from a TV show that she had heard from her cupboard the other day, she picked up the red crayon and started to draw.

A shadow fell over her.

"Whatchya doin?"

"Dwawin."

"Whatchya dwawin?"

"My pawens."

"But... Mummy said you didn' have any pawens."

"I don."

"Den how are you dwawin dem?"

The shadow became larger and a boy sat down beside her, resting his chin on her shoulder while watching her draw. After a moment or two, the boy picked up a green crayon and helped her to fill in the grass around the little house, in front of which stood three stick-people. When they were done, the boy pawed at her arm.

"Hawwy? Will you dwaw me and my pawens?"

"I can help dwaw dem, Dudwey."

"Buh Hawwy…" he moaned pawing at her arm. "I wan you to dwaw for me!"

"Hey dat dickles!"

The boy grinned and lunged at her, tickling her all over. She laughed and laughed.

"DUDLEY! GET AWAY… DON'T TOUCH HER!"

The boy was wrenched away from her. She held out her hand, reaching for him, but in her hand... was her wand.

There was a flash of green light.

A boy held out his juicebox. She reached out to take it gratefully, but her wand was in her hand.

There was a flash of green light.

She was walking down a busy street and the large man pointed to a shop. He smiled kindly to her and waved as he walked away. She raised her arm to wave back, but her wand was in her hand.

There was a flash of green light.

A silver-haired boy stood on a stool. He held out his hand and she moved to shake it, but her wand was in her hand.

There was a flash of green light.

A small girl stood in front of her, beautiful amber eyes boring into her own. The girl hugged her tightly. And yet... when they separated, her wand was in her hand, tip pointed right at the amber-eyed girl's heart.

There was a flash of green light.

She walked up the stairs slowly, not bothering to rush, for she knew that her prey couldn't escape. There was a light on at the end of the hall. She entered the room. A woman stood in her path. She raised the wand.

There was a flash of green light.

Red eyes saw green eyes. Green eyes saw red eyes. Green eyes saw green eyes and red eyes saw red eyes. She looked down her arm at her wand, pointing down into her own face.

There was a flash of green light.

"AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!"

Pain beyond pain. Heat beyond heat. She died. She died a thousand times and a thousand times again. She burned in the green fire. Her life flashed before her eyes.

She was the old man lying at her feet. He was torn in two, trying to keep his stomach inside his body.

She was the boy who stood alone, a knife dripping with blood. His parents and siblings surrounded him, throats slit and swollen. He raised the knife and plunged it into his own heart. He fell at her feet.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmm mmmm. Sweet wonderful hums filled her ears. She reached out with her soul, but could not touch them.

She was the girl, arms broken, naked, bound. Her love loomed above her. She pleaded with him; tried to reason with him. How could he do this? She screamed as he pummeled her; she screamed as he took her without love, his eyes blank and unseeing... without mercy. Beaten to her last breath, her heart slowing, her lungs filling with blood, she watched as her love died, skin melting off his bones. She slipped silently away as her cold, clammy hand brushed the hair from her face.

She was the man, kneeling over his daughter, hands around her throat, watching the life drain away from her. She-

"Shhhhh. Come back to me, yeah?"

She was an infant, roasting in a towering inferno of flaming horses. She could feel-

"Hey. Come back to me."

She was a woman, watching her children torn and clawed by the hands of the dead. She-

"It's okay now. Come back."

The humming returned, wrapping around the angelic words. She reached out and grasped… something.

Red eyes spun around her, closing in. A lifetime of rage and hate and pain.

"Come back to me."

She felt arms on her skin. Not choking or beating... just holding.

Red eyes.

"Come back."

She felt a chest breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

Harry opened her eyes. She saw an ear... and Ginny's hair.

No… it's not Ginny.

It was a boy... and he was embracing her tightly. She wrapped her arms around the boy's shoulders and used his breathing to steady her own. She inhaled when he exhaled, exhaled when he inhaled. He smelled a bit like grass. It was nice.

She felt Alice tighten on her leg… as if to apologize. "Thiss grasssy red human brought you back, Chica. I tried to ssoothe you… but could not."

Harry didn't need the snake to tell her what he had done.

Leaning back onto her knees, she gazed intently into his sky blue eyes and smiled, tucking her hair back behind an ear to look at him better. "You brought me back. Th-Thank you."

Jaw dropping in shock, the boy pushed himself onto his elbows, staring at her incredulously as she sat between his legs.

"You... You're... You're Harriet Potter..." he stuttered after a stretching, dumbfounded silence.

He was ogling her scar and for the first time Harry found that she didn't care in the slightest. "Yeah, I am. Just Harry though."

Leaning down, her hair dancing on his face, she pulled him close and lightly kissed his cheek to better show her gratitude. Never having been allowed to kiss anyone, she reveled in the sensation and trailed a series of chaste kisses all along the boy's jawline, right down to his ear. Planting one last grateful peck on his ear lobe, she slumped against him, completely exhausted, breathing out her relief into his shoulder.

"Really... Thank you."

Harry could tell that he seemed to be getting over the shock that she was Harriet Potter. He now seemed considerably more shocked that she was lying on top of him.

"…Erm… no problem?"

He made to wiggle out from under her, but Harry held on for dear life.

"What's your name?" she asked in his ear.

"R-Ronald... " he muttered, attempting another futile wiggle to remove himself. "Ron Weasley."

Ron? Wait... Ginny's brother? Well, the hair makes sense then. Ginny called him a prat, but he doesn't seem too bad.

Harry might have thought more on this had Ron not just saved her from whatever was at the end of that dream. He was warm and she couldn't stop herself from snuggling into his side. She knew it was a bit of an awkward situation, but she needed this; she needed to be touched. Her body stung and hurt all over. She needed to be warm; she needed to be safe from the death and the horrible eyes.

I just need a little comfort.

Scrunching his jumper in her hands, she pulled him closer. "You know, you're the second Weasley I've hugged in one day. I like Weasleys."

"Erm... I... wait... the second?"

Harry nodded into Ron's neck and muttered, "Ginny was right miffed at you."

"How do you know-" but he wasn't allowed to finish.

"AHEM!"

Startled, Harry gaped at the newcomer. The girl was taller than her, yet surely not as tall as Ron. She had a large bush of brown hair and her dark, chocolaty eyes were studying Harry intently with a mixture of disdain and curious interest. She was quite pretty... albeit having rather large front teeth that made her look like she was biting her lip.

"Oh… hello," said Harry nervously.

The girl raised an eyebrow.

A woman in a matron's outfit came bustling into the compartment, dragging a cart behind her. She kicked Ron's head by accident.

"Good Lord! What are you two doing on the floor? Oh never mind. Come on, deary... let's have a look."

Harry pulled Ron up with her and finally was able to let go of his jumper. She smoothed it down where her fingers had bunched it up thoroughly.

"Mmm mild concussion its looks like," said the nurse, dragging her wand around Harry's skull. When the wand tip passed over the cut on the back of her head, the flesh repaired itself with a disgusting little slick.

The matron tapped Harry's temple and she could suddenly think clearly. The nurse gave her cheek a little pat and asked, "So, dear... what happened?"

"I… I don't really know."

"She was asleep," mumbled Ron. "She was dreaming,"

The nurse lit her wand and held it up to Harry's eyes. "Mmmhmm. I thought you said she was screaming, love?" she asked the brown-haired girl.

Ron answered for her. "She… she was screaming... and thrashing… and…" he trailed off, looking sadly at Harry.

"Tch Tch Tch... I see... night terrors. Much worse in magical folk than muggles. The magic makes them real for the body and it can be quite serious... oh dear me. You're only a first year! I've never seen a case so young…"

The nurse let out a great sigh, the foreboding sound of which Harry didn't like one bit.

"Well, I can give you some dreamless sleep potion for tonight of course, but I'd like you to visit the Headmaster after the sorting feast. He is most adept in dealing with magics of the mind. Here... a pepper up potion, a blood replenisher, as well as your dreamless sleep draught. They'll fix you right up."

Harry took the vials, tipped two back… and promptly spit them back out.

BLEGH

The nurse laughed, handing her two new vials. "That's everyone's reaction the first time, love." She smiled and bustled out.

Silence fell over the small cabin. Ron and the the brown-haired girl were sending her apprehensive looks... as if she was about to explode.

The disapproving girl was the first to speak. "Well then… I'm very glad you're alright." It seemed that she wanted to say more, but after a moment's hesitation, she turned and left Harry and Ron to themselves.

Ron plopped down onto the seat and sighed, hand over his eyes. "Blimey."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, examining the boy with curiosity. His bright red hair was shaggy, partly covering his blue eyes from view. His clothes… well, they were all a bit worn down, but they were well-kept and looked comfy enough... just like her dress. He had even more freckles than Ginny. All over his face and neck and arms... his arms. There was blood all over them; blood which she assumed was her own.

She sat down next to him and used the end of her already very bloody dress to wipe him off.

He raised his head, eyes giving her a thorough inspection. "You alright then?"

Harry shrugged. "Think so... thanks to you."

Ron's ears went pink. He tore his eyes from hers, mumbling weakly, "You should change out of that you know. It's covered in… well… its making me a bit queasy."

He does look a bit green.

Harry nodded and stood. Ron made to get up too, heading in the direction of the door, yet when she tugged her dress over her head he leaped backwards with a surprised yelp.

"OI!" shouted Ron, falling into his seat, his hands and arms covering his eyes from view. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I'm changing," said Harry obviously, pulling her Hogwarts robes from her trunk.

"NOT… NOT…" he spluttered incoherently. "NOT WHILE I'M STILL HERE!"

Harry giggled derisively as she stepped into her black skirt. "Oh... right. Well, that's very nice of you, Ron, but I really couldn't care about decency at the moment. Every nerve in my body is stinging. Besides… you didn't see anything, did you? Bet you didn't even get a look at my knickers before you acted all… well… very nobly. Noble Ron Weasley. My savior."

"THAT'S COMPLETELY BESIDES THE POINT! AND… AND… WAS THAT A SNAKE ON YOUR LEG?"

"Oh, yes. That's Alice. Don't worry; she's a Boa Constrictor and they're not venomous. She likes to eat bananas. You can look now." She finished buttoning up her white Hogwarts blouse and pulled her robe over top. "Do you think you could you do this for me?" she asked, holding out her tie. "I've no idea how."

Ron's hands slowly fell to his side. His ears were pink and he was very tense. As he tied the tie around her neck, Harry noticed that every few seconds he would glance nervously at the hem of her skirt where the snake's coiled form was hidden. When he finished, he retreated hastily to the corner.

I don't want my savior to be afraid of me, now do I?

She lifted the hem of her skirt and held her hand out to Alice, who slithered onto her fingers.

When Harry moved to sit next to Ron, Alice started wiggling fiercely. "Harry sspeaker! He hass them. Put me down. I want them!"

Not daring to speak to Alice with Ron right in front of her, she placed the snake on the seat between them. The little reptile slid quickly up to Ron's leg and stuck its head in his pocket.

"HARRY! WHAT'S IT DOING!"

Now that she had calmed down, Harry could distinctly smell a bit of cinnamon in the air. "Erm... Ron, do you by chance have a sandwich in your pocket?"

"W-What?" he whispered. The boy was as white as a sheet and sitting stock still as the snake wiggled on him.

"A banana sandwich."

"Oh erm... yeah I do, actually. Is... is that what it wants?"

She nodded. "I suspect so."

Alice hissed in protest as Harry dragged her out of the pocket.

Ron retrieved the sandwich out and placed it on the bench. "Go for it. I hate these things."

"Really? Ginny gave me one and I thought they were wonderful!" Harry opened the sandwich, took the bananas out, mushed them up, and laid the results in front of Alice, who devoured them greedily.

"So… you've met my sister?" asked Ron, the corners of his lips actually twitching upwards at the snake's antics.

Harry put the marshmallowy bread back together and took a bite out of it, purring in delight. "Ohhh... that's heavenly... but... yeah. I met her at the station. She was…" Harry saw Ginny in her mind's eye, standing on a cart, asking for her trust.

Amazing? The most wonderful person I've ever met?

"… very nice," she finished plainly. "She was right ticked at you though."

Ron grimaced, muttering meekly, "Erm... yeah. It's sorted now. I said I wasn't going to write to her, but… I changed my mind."

"Why wouldn't you write to her? She's your sister. If… If I had a little sister…"

"I know, I know," said Ron guiltily. "But like I said, it's sorted now. Hey... do you want to see my rat?"

Harry snorted and choked on a bit of bread. "Your what?"

"My rat… Scabbers." The redhead went to his trunk and pulled out a small cage containing a fat, ragged looking ball of fuzz. He held the cage out to Harry. "He doesn't do much; just sleeps. Most interesting thing about him is that he's missing a toe. I like to imagine that he lost it on some daring magical adventure... but... he probably just got caught in a mouse trap. He was my brother's rat, but now I've got him. I'm the youngest of seven apart from Ginny and… well... we all share everything just about. Don't… don't have much… well..."

Harry waved him off. "It sounds wonderful. I wish I had brothers."

Ron laughed. "No you don't. Believe me!"

Harry didn't think Ron realized who he was talking to... which was nice. She smiled sadly at him and said in a very quiet voice, "But… I do, you know?"

Ron blushed scarlet at his mistake. "Oh... right. Sorry."

Harry shrugged and scratched the rat behind the ears as the silence stretched.

Seemingly trying to redeem himself, Ron asked her, "Well... erm... what's your family like… I mean, your muggle family that is."

"The Dursleys?" she asked. "They're… well, it's a bit of a long story."

Ron smiled warmly. "I've got time."

Grinning, Harry proceeded to regale him with tales of her bulbous uncle, her whaleboy of a cousin, and her gossip hound of an aunt. They laughed and talked for hours.

When the discussion eventually turned to school and magic, Harry asked, "Ron... will I be behind the other students? Can you do magic already?"

"Nah. Though I do know one spell. Fred and George taught it to me. It'll turn Scabbers yellow. Want to see?"

Harry nodded rapidly and Ron pulled out his wand.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter-"

He was interrupted as the compartment door slid open.

The brown-haired girl had returned.

"Excuse me again. I meant to ask before. Have you seen Neville's… Oh! Are you doing magic?" She had clearly seen the wand in Ron's hand and her eyes had widened with excitement. "Can you show me?"

The redhead seemed a bit hesitant to be performing in front of two people, but he cleared his throat, pointed his wand at Scabbers, and said in a robust, overly-grandiose voice, "Sunshine, daisies, butter-mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

Scabbers squeaked weakly and fell asleep.

"Hmmm... are you sure that's a real spell?" asked the girl, her skepticism obvious.

Ron's ears went pink again. "Well, Fred and George gave it to me so… not really, no."

"I've tried a few simple spells and they all worked for me. It was ever such a surprise to find out I was magical, but I was ever so pleased. Hogwarts is simply the best magical school around you see, or so I've heard. I want to do so well. I've learned all the course books by heart of course. I do hope it will be enough." The bushy-haired girl said all of this very quickly, very proudly, and in one enormous breath.

Ron was staring at the girl in a daze, his jaw slack.

Harry frowned at him.

I memorized my textbooks too. Don't see me blowharding about it… well, History of Magic doesn't count.

She shivered with disdain for the tedious subject.

"I'm Hermione Granger. Do you know what House you'll be in? I do hope I'm in Gryffindor." The brown-eyed girl stared at them expectantly.

"Oh... erm... Ron Weasley… and I dunno."

"Harry Potter."

"Oh my… are you really?" Hermione sat down next to her and pushed Harry's hair out of her face. Her large eyes were openly and avidly ogling her scar and it made Harry very, very uncomfortable. "You know I've read all about you, for background information of course. You're in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of The Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the 20th century! Did you know that your Father lost his eyes in his duel against You-Know-Who? His eyes! Imagine a spell like that! How horrible!"

Lost his... I don't think I like this girl.

Ron caught the angry look on her face and said in a stiff and heated voice, "Hermione was it? I don't think Harry here wants to talk too much about her father's corpse. Bit upsetting I expect."

Hermione sat back quickly, looking as if Ron had slapped her. "Well… well… yes… I suppose you're… well… very nice to meet you." She fled the compartment, face turning bright red.

"Thank you, Ron. But that was bit rough, don't you think?"

"Oh, well… I owed her one. Met her before at the station. Made me feel like a right dunderhead."

"Well, what if… what if she's in your House? You'll be in a pickle." Ron paled and Harry giggled. "So what House do you want to be in?"

"Gryffindor. Definitely. My whole families been in it." Ron puffed out his chest and said, "It was Dumbledore's house."

"Is it good then?"

"Good? It's the best! Blimey… I can't imagine what would happen if they put me in Slytherin though. I'd go bonkers."

Harry was taken aback. "Really? A friend of mine told me he wanted to be in Slytherin."

"WANTED TO… wanted to be in Slytherin? Are they mad? It's full of dark wizards and… and muggle haters."

"Draco didn't seem like that."

Ron shook his head. "Trust me, Harry, Slytherin is bad news. They say it was You-Know-Who's house."

It can't be that bad. Maybe he... maybe he just wants me to be in Gryffindor... with him.

Harry smiled happily to herself. After a lifetime without friends, it was the strangest thing to have suddenly have so many.

"Don't you have to put your robes on, Ron? It can't be far now."

Ron sat up from his lounging position. "Oh right… could you erm… you know?"

Harry giggled. "Oh I dunno. Eye for an eye?"

"Harry!" groaned the boy miserably, turning pinker than ever.

She laughed and stood. And yet, as she slid open the compartment door, she hesitated to walk through. It felt wrong to simply... leave.

Turning slowly on the spot, she looked back.

Ron looked up and met her hard gaze with a questioning look.

"What? Have I... Have I got something on me?"

Harry shook her head, walked over, and slid her arms around his waist.

Ron froze. She didn't wan't him to pull away so she hugged him tightly, resting her cheek on his chest. As her weight pushed him backwards into the window, she whispered gratefully into his shirt, "Ron... it was just... horrible... the dream, I mean. So... thank you for... you know... bringing me back."

As the train jostled them softly, eventually, inch by freckled inch, Ron's body began to relax. She felt his chin sink into her hair and he finally hugged her back.

"Ye-Yeah. Anytime, Harry."

0000

0000

She looked back at Ron standing in line. His sky-blue eyes sent her a concerned, questioning look.

"Come now, girl. We don't have all day."

Harry had been sitting on the stool for at least fifteen minutes, the tiny voice of the hat badgering her for a decision.

She glared at the Slytherin table.

How could he have said such a thing? In the robe shop, he had seemed so kind…

The blonde boy was looking away from her, seemingly uninterested in the sorting. But... he was sitting very still... too still.

Ginny's face appeared before her mind's eye. 'And my mum always says that people that avoid looking at you are the ones paying you the most attention.'

And then Ron's face. 'Ye-Yeah. Anytime, Harry.'

And then Draco's. 'Because he's dirt poor!'

"Ron was right," she whispered to the hat, blinking away angry tears of hurt and disappointment. "Not Slytherin. Anything but Slytherin."

"Well... if you're sure… better be…"

0000

0000

0000

0000

Draco sat in a large, green armchair, staring into the common room fire. Pansy was leaning against his leg, reading one of her many contrived romance novels.

He pulled out his wand and twirled it against the armrest.

Tap Tap Tap Tap

Why had she…

Tap Tap Tap Tap

I didn't mean… well… I did mean…

Tap Tap Tap Tap

"Draco…"

Tap Tap Tap Tap

If she… I'll make her life a living hell...

Tap Tap Tap Tap

Pansy sighed in exasperation and yanked the wand out of his grasp. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "Stop being so moody. You're interrupting a very good scene."

"But she-"

"I know. You'll get her back for it. Don't worry."

He gazed blankly into the fire, glowering.

Get her back for it…

Get her back…

I want to get her back…

I want her back.

/FLASHBACK/

Draco was in a very good mood. He had already managed to make two very large, very bulky friends. Well… not friends really… more like bodygaurds.

He sniggered.

I'm going to rule this school... just like Father did.

Vincent and Gregory cut a path for him through the crowd until he was right at the front of the first years milling to get onto the boats. A booming voice cried out, "Four ter a boat! Don't push!"

It was that disgusting giant from Diagon Alley.

He heard Pansy groan from behind him. "UGH! He actually works here?"

Draco, Vincent, Gregory and Pansy all climbed into a boat.

They floated out onto the water and Pansy leaned back into his chest. "This is very romantic. Don't you agree, Draco?"

He scoffed… but one of his hands still found its way into her hair to play with the little blonde ringlets. She had always let him mess with her hair when they were on playdates at his mansion. It fascinated him; how it bounced and shone in the light. He did care for her. She was his best friend after all. But her incessant tittering about romance always made him uneasy.

Girls...

"Pans, if you don't get into Slytherin... will your father really transfer you to Durmstrang?"

Pansy sighed softly. "That's what he says."

Draco twirled a ringlet around his finger. "I'll come with you, if you want me to.

Pansy said nothing, but her hand fell over-top his own on the rail of the boat.

Even though his father had taken him to see the castle before, he still drew a sharp intake of breath as it came into view over the water. Hundreds of twinkling lights were shimmering in the lake's reflection. It looked as if there were two castles, one above and one below.

A stern looking woman with a lantern awaited them at the shore. "Good evening students and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will proceed up the front steps and congregate in the Entrance Hall. Walk promptly now. No mischief."

The Entrance Hall was enormous. Four giant hourglasses, filled with gemstones, stood on either side of what must have been the Great Hall. There were ghosts everywhere, one of which caught his eye. The specter gave him a slight nod, then shuffled off, chains clanking eerily behind him.

Draco avidly searched the crowd until he saw a familiar girl with long black hair talking to a ghost whose head was almost completely torn off.

"Hey! Hey Harry! Over here!"

She turned at her name and he waved at her.

She looks much healthier. Must have put on fifteen pounds. Merlin, what is that green?

Harry let loose that brilliant smile of hers, ran over, and caught him up in a hug. Her magnificent hair rubbed on his cheek and he wrapped his fingers in it, just like he would Pansy's.

"Draco! It's good to see you!" She leaned up and planted a light kiss on his cheek. He couldn't have stopped his face from heating up even if he wanted to.

She must have had a damn good train ride.

"I… erm… I tried looking for you on the train, but i couldn't find you. Did you hear that a girl at the back had some sort of sei-" Draco stopped short.

A tall, redheaded boy in shabby, secondhand robes was standing right behind Harry, looking interestedly in on what they had to say. Draco found this to be particularly annoying.

In the best imitation of his father's signature drawl that he had ever performed, Draco sneered and said, "Yes? Can I help you, Ginger? If you're begging, well, I'm sorry to say that I left my money in my other robe."

He looked back at Harry, expecting to see her burst into a fit of laughter.

However... she wasn't laughing... she wasn't even smiling. She was staring up at him with a slightly confused expression.

"Draco… this is-"

He cut her off and put his arm around her shoulder, spinning her around, thinking that maybe she hadn't gotten the joke because she hadn't seen this… buffoon. "Harry, look at the state of this chap, eh? He must roll with the pigs every morning. I… I bet you're a Weasley. My father told me all the Weasley's have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford. Now then… run along Weasley, you're not welcome here. Maybe I'll spare you a galleon tomorrow if you leave quickly."

Weasley looked ready to murder him. He laughed and snapped his fingers. Greg and Vincent stepped up behind him.

"Walk away. I can really make you-"

Draco staggered as Harry threw his arm violently off of her shoulder. "Harry? What's wrong?"

Why isn't she laughing?

Harry stepped away and glared daggers at him. "Draco? Is this some sort of joke? What are you on about?"

Confused, he folded his arms and asked, "What do you mean?"

It was right at that moment that Pansy came running up to him and whispered, "Draco! You won't believe what I just heard. That giant, the oaf, Hargidge or whatever… Draco… he lives in a shack! What a savage!"

Harry's eyes darkened.

"Draco, who's this?" asked Pansy, gesturing towards the black-haired girl and clutching his arm protectively. "Is she bothering you?"

Harry stalked forward, her green eyes flashing, and pushed Pansy aside. She thrust her finger into his chest, glaring murderously at him. "Tell me you're joking."

Joking? I'm completely lost.

"Joking about what?"

The girl in front of him seemed to lose control. Somehow, even though she was shorter, she was towering above him; her stature did nothing to diminish her presence. "ABOUT… ABOUT WHAT? ABOUT YOU BEING…"

Harry clearly lost the words she was looking for in her rage. She just stood there, huffing angrily.

Weasley came up behind her and said, "It's okay, Harry. It doesn't matter. Let it go."

But Harry ignored him. "Draco. What makes you better than Ron? What makes him so incredibly inferior to you?"

This isn't going well. Tell the truth.

"Well… because his family is bunch of muggle-lovers obviously. And come on, Harry, look at his clothes... because he's dirt poor!"

SLAP

His head spun painfully and he fell to the floor from the surprising strength of the blow.

Pansy screamed.

Cradling his cheek, Draco stared up in shock at the small girl that had sent him flying. She was enraged, her green eyes stormy and narrowed. Her face was flushed and her hair blew around her in a fierce wind that stemmed from nowhere. When she spoke her tone was colder than ice.

"And are you better than me, Draco? I've been in the poorhouse since I was born. Throughout my entire life, I've only had one piece of clothing that fit. I ate crackers for breakfast and cold soup for dinner."

What? How is that possible?

"You're not poor, Harry! I saw your Gringott's bag! They only give those to-"

She shrieked in disgust and delivered a fierce kick to Draco's shin. "FOR ELEVEN YEARS I GREW UP WITHOUT THAT VAULT; WITHOUT MY FAMILY! I LIVED IN A CUPBOARD, YOU… BIGGOTED PONCE!"

Weasley stepped in again and took hold of Harry's arm, dragging her backwards. "Harry stop… please-"

"NO, RON! GET OFF! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" She stomped towards Draco, but Weasley grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet. She screamed and kicked the air wildly, crying. Weasley held her tight, whispering in her ear.

She stopped kicking. She stopped crying. She stopped screaming. Her hair stopped blowing. She leaned back into Weasley's arm, breathing heavily.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go." Weasley tugged on her arm and without another word, she disappeared from Draco's sight.

He lay there on the floor, staring at the spot she had just vacated.

She… she… well!

Pansy knelt next to him and stroked his hair. "Draco? Who was that terrible girl?"

Before he could answer, the stern woman came bustling into the Entrance Hall. "First Years! Line up please! That means you as well, Mr. Malfoy! Up!"

The Hat sang its song; something about the founders. He didn't care. He was angry. He wanted to punch something that was cute and fluffy.

How dare she speak to me like that? I'm a Malfoy! Who is she to HIT me? Hit me like some filthy muggle. Well she'll pay... Weasley too.

Yet as he fumed, he couldn't help but think of her dark, messy hair blowing around her, her entrancing green eyes wide with anger.

Damn. What is that green?

"Malfoy, Draco." He walked up to the Sorting Hat, not even thinking about where he wanted to go, still fuming over Harry.

She was supposed to be my friend...

"SLYTHERIN."

Draco sat down at the table, ignoring the cheers of his fellow Slytherins. He glared a whole into his plate as the hat went through several more names before getting to the P's.

"Parkinson, Pansy."

"SLYTHERIN" Pansy sat at his side, looping her arm through his.

Well, thank god for that.

"Patil, Padma."

"RAVENCLAW."

"Patil, Parvati."

"GRYFFINDOR."

"Perks, Sally-Anne."

"HUFFLEPUFF."

"Potter, Harriet."

The hall went silent and he looked up in shock.

No... that's not... Oh Merlin.

Harry was indeed walking forward.

No... it CAN'T be! How did I not see that?

She put the Hat on her head... but nothing happened. She just sat there... staring at... him.

Draco looked away purposefully and did not dare raise his head again, for he could feel her eyes on him. This must have gone on for twenty minutes.

"GRYFFINDOR," the Hat finally shouted.

The room exploded with cheers as her tie and crest turned red.

Draco put his head down on his plate and moaned.

/END FLASHBACK/

I want her back.

Tap Tap Tap Tap

0000

0000

0000

0000

Phoenixes. Such amazing creatures.

Albus Dumbledore was having the most engaging night. He had discovered that every time he shot blue sparks from his wand, Fawkes would sing a high note, and every time he shot out red sparks, he would sing a low note. He had developed quite an amusing game trying to trip him up.

Fawkes, however, had yet to miss a note.

He shot off a large burst of yellow sparks.

The phoenix sent him a look that quite clearly said, 'Nice try.'

"Ahh, quite right, old friend."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Do come in, Harry."

The heavy oak door swung outward and in walked Lily Potter... well, Lily Evans at age eleven… with James Potter's hair.

"Good evening, Harry. I see that Hagrid was most astute in his description of you. You do look remarkably like your mother. Would you care for a Lemon drop?"

He held out the bowl of the wonderful little candies he had discovered while vacationing in Bermuda.

Well… the Bermuda Triangle… well… Atlantis. No matter.

"Oh, no thank you, sir. I had about six treacle tarts."

"Ah yes, quiet so… you must watch out for those. They are a favorite amongst many students and thus, a prime target for many pranks from a certain pair of mischievous twins." He rested his hands underneath his chin and looked down at the diminutive girl. "Now… Harry… let us discuss the reason you came to see me tonight."

Harry nodded gravely and he continued. "I was alerted that there was a rather serious event on the train regarding your health, but I was not informed as to the details of said event. Would you care to enlighten me?"

"Oh… right. I… I had a dream."

"A dream that resulted in your need for medical attention?"

"Oh... yes… Headmaster Dumbledore, sir. I hit my head you see, and-"

"No extensive explanation needed, Harry. Madame Pomfrey has explained your situation as well. And please, it is 'Professor.' 'Headmaster' seems much too stuffy for a young man like myself." He chuckled and winked at the girl, who smiled widely in return. "Now... I believe that you have developed a case of what I like to call 'The Petrifying Dream.' In muggle culture, it is referred to as night terrors, which is quite simply a rare case of rather intense nightmares that cause physical reactions. In wizards however, our magic, which is directed by the brain, makes those manifestations real. It creates an experience which our actual bodies live through; an experience that we cannot wake from until it is ended. In your case, given your violent reaction, I think it best if I know what the dream was before we proceed. Do you think you would be able to describe it for me, Harry?"

The girl paled and shook her head no.

"I see. Well... do you think you would be able to let me view it directly?"

"View it… directly, sir?

"Yes… I am what we call a 'Legillimens.' With a simple spell, I may walk through your mind as if it is a corridor, viewing your memories as open doors that I pass by. I must warn you, however, that dreams are buried deeply in the subconscious. Thus, I would first need to view your entire memory to reach them. Would you allow this, Harry? To allow me into your mind?"

Harry shrugged. "Alright, sir."

"Very brave of you, Harry. The Sorting Hat chose your house well. Many would refuse simply because they have things to hide… memories they want no one to see." Albus looked pointedly at her.

"We'll… there is one thing, sir… that I'd rather hide."

"Then might I suggest you imagine placing the memory or memories which you would hide behind a closed door in your mind. I will see the door and out of courtesy, walk past it. We could indeed do this for all your memories, but Occulumency, which is essentially closing and locking each door, takes years to learn, and thus we would be here for a very long time. Instead, we are simply closing one door until I pass by it. Do you think you can do this, Harry?"

The girl nodded and asked, "What do I have to do, sir?"

"Nothing at all, Harry. You will feel me inside your mind. I am known to have a very light touch, but you still may find it... a tad intrusive."

Harry's eyes set determinedly and she said, "I… I think I'm ready, sir."

No one is ever ready my dear child... you will relive it all.

He walked around his desk and wandlessly conjured a small armchair directly in front of the girl's. Sitting down, he withdrew his wand and placed it against her temple. Hesitating, he asked, "Are you quite sure you wish to go through with this, Harry? It would be far easier to describe it."

"Y-Yes, Professor."

She seemed resolute.

"Very well… Legillimens."

He moved through the spiraling corridor at a lightning swift pace, absorbing the images flashing all around him. Green light. Images of a girl being chased and beaten by three boys; images of a dark room and a small girl lying on a moldy cot; images of a woman's hands being torn out of her grip; images of a man's hands striking a girl on the cheek.

There is the door. Well done, Harry.

Surprisingly, he heard her reply, 'Thank you, sir.'

Images of a giant man with a kind smile. Images of a silver haired boy, a redheaded girl and boy. Then, it was if he had passed through a veil of mist.

He saw himself holding his wand in his hand. And he killed. And killed again. Again and again. Red eyes. Green eyes. A flash of green light. Pain... blinding pain, white hot and burning. Dead bodies, murders, a voice calling out to him. 'Come back to me.' Red eyes.

And then... the scene shifted.

Gellert was behind him on the soft bed, arms wrapped tightly around his chest, thrusting slowly and surely into him. He was on fire, panting heavily as the blonde boy gripped his member and-

Aberforth stood in front of the grave, eyes blazing. "ITS YOUR FAULT! YOU KILLED HER! YOU AND THAT FREAK! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE-"

"INCENDIOS GRATA!" The last of the Divine Reich Sorcerers was disintegrated in a mighty blast of fire. He rounded the corner at full speed and found himself standing in front of the large black gate. ARBEIT MACHT FREI. The cold, steel letters mocked him as he beheld his once friend, surrounded by the emaciated bodies of the dead. The man turned to face him, opening his arms wide in welcome.

"It is time to end this, mein liebster! Gekommen worden zu mir; taste the power of the Elder Wand! The Deathstick! With it I cannot be defeated!

"That is true, Gellert. I admit, my defeat seems inevitable, for I know in my heart that I would not be able to kill you."

"Then why fight at all, Albus?" The blond man turned from him and stared at the words above the wrought iron gate. "You who shared my dream? Why do you fight?"

"Because it has gone too far. Because we were wrong… EXPELLIARMUS!" He caught the wand deftly. Gellert turned and smirked at him.

"You will destroy our dream, Albus? You will destroy the greater good?"

"No my love. I will renew it."

"BUT YOU CANNOT! AS LONG AS I LIVE, THERE WILL BE THOSE TO CARRY OUT OUR WORK!"

"No, Gellert, your puppet leader is dead. I found his hideaway, broke through the wards you placed around his bunker, and killed him myself. The hitwizards and allied muggle forces are storming Berlin as we speak."

The blonde man's face contorted with rage. He withdrew yet another wand, screamed his defiance, and lunged at-

Albus gasped and slumped against the side of the armchair.

The girl in front of him was crying, bright green eyes wide and locked onto his own. "Sir! I'm so sorry! I… I couldn't stop… I… I…"

He held up a hand and she abruptly closed her mouth. Composing himself took more than several minutes.

She penetrated my mind; broke through iron clad walls by simply walking through the door.

"You… Harry… I believe you may just be the most remarkable young woman I have ever met in my life."

"Professor, I'm so-"

"It is quite alright, Harry. I have just learned the hard way that a door, once opened, may be stepped through in either direction." He smiled as kindly as he could, yet he was still reeling from the memories he had shut away, so he was sure the smile did not reach his eyes.

Harry caught on to this and her charmingly angelic face became hidden beneath her raven-black hair.

"Harry... I think that we are both in desperate need of a Lemon Drop." He picked up a candy from his desk and placed it in her limp hand. "Please... eat it. It will do you good." He popped one into his mouth.

Ah... calming draughts. Most ingenious, Severus.

Harry did the same and collapsed into the back of the chair, sighing deeply.

"Professor… who-"

"Just a man I once knew, Harry; a man who… lost his way." He tried to convey as lightly as he could that this was not a topic they would be discussing tonight. "Now… firstly, I believe an apology is in order, Harry. I myself placed you on the Dursley's doorstep all those years ago. You have suffered a great deal at their hands and for that… for that, my dear girl, I am truly sorry. And yet... I must stress that it was necessary; a necessary evil to protect a young girl from the dangers of our war-torn world. And it is still necessary that you return to them each summer."

She frowned bitterly. "I didn't think I'd have to go back, sir. Can't I stay here at the school?"

"It is necessary that you return to them, Harry, but I think… no… I am sure, that the protections placed around you and your family will recharge before summer's end. You will be able to leave every July on your birthday."

"I… I understand, sir. Thank you."

"Now, back to the matter at hand. I believe that a possible cause of the first part of your dream is that you are afraid of using your magic. I wish for you to tell me why."

"Well, because… because my wand… it came from the same phoenix-"

"That donated a feather to Lord Voldemort's wand?" he interrupted.

She looked surprised.

"Do not hesitate to say the name, Harry. Such fear grants undeserved power to the owner."

She nodded slowly.

"Ollivander wrote to me saying that, at last, the brother wand had chosen you as its wielder. Harry, you must understand that it is neither a wizard's wand, nor a wizard's magic, that makes them turn to darkness. It is what they choose to do with that wand. Voldemort's wand core was taken from the tail of a creature of great good and kindess. This creature in fact." Albus gestured towards Fawkes. "And yet, he chose to perform with his wand unspeakable acts of evil; acts that twisted his very being. You must not be afraid of your magic, Harry. Embrace it… and choose to perform good."

"Ye-Yes sir."

However, the girl did not look convinced.

Sighing and scratching his beard, Albus continued. "As to the flashes of just a few of Lord Voldemort's many murders, I cannot understand why you saw what you did. I can merely speculate. Perhaps he is reaching out to you."

"He… He's still alive then?"

"Quite so, dear girl. I am sure of it. Voldemort fears his death above all else. I do not believe he would have started a war against the world unless he knew somehow that he would not die… Yet that too is only speculation. What I do know is that your experiencing the Petrifying Dream every night as you fall asleep is something that neither you, nor I, could bear. Therefore, I suggest this. There is a remote form of Occlumeny that I myself have developed. It is not a method of shielding yourself from others. A Legillimens could as easily walk through it as if it did not exist. It is rather a method of organization and focus. It consists of choosing one memory... a happy memory... and immersing yourself fully into it before you sleep. The memory will shield your mind to prevent dreams."

The girl frowned. "I don't think I have too many happy memories, sir…"

Albus smiled. "No? Might I suggest your experience with young Miss Weasley this morning? It seemed to be a very bright one as I passed it by."

"Oh... erm... yeah. I... I suppose that could… work."

He watched with amusement as her cheeks tinged red.

Ah, well, love knows no boundaries.

"Very well, Harry. I would like you to return to me every night this week and I shall teach you the method. Madam Pomfrey will supply you with Dreamless Sleep potion in the meantime. And now… I relinquish you from an old man's wheezing. You may return to Gryffindor tower; I believe the password is Caput Draconis."

"Thank you, sir." She got up to leave, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she did so. She was almost to the door when she turned around and said sadly, "Sir… I'm… I'm sorry about your friend."

Albus nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Harry. Oh… and just one last thing. Should you slap or kick Mr. Malfoy again, make sure that neither I, nor any of my colleagues, are around to witness the event. We would be forced to take away house points."

He winked at her and was rewarded with a small, sheepish grin.

0000

0000

0000

0000

Hermione was in a state of complete and utter bliss. The bathroom was absolutely enormous. It had four shower stalls, four baths, four toilets, and four sinks. The baths themselves were large, ornate, and sank down into the floor. She played with the bubbles on the surface of the steamy water.

Gryffindor. I can't believe it! Dumbledore's House. I can't… Just wait until I tell Mum! She'll be ever so pleased.

The bathroom door opened. Well... it must have because she could suddenly hear Parvati and Lavender's loud, gibbering voices echoing from their room.

"And did you see her hair? Its like a wild shrub!"

They cackled.

I CAN HEAR YOU! Bints. Ohhhhh they are going to be the worst roommates. Prattling on about makeup and such. I bet they won't even do their homework.

She saw feet padding beneath the stalls and Harry came around the corner.

Oh no. I forgot about… on the train…

"Oh… hello, Hermione," greeted Harry, her tone stiff.

"Hello, Harry." Hermione watched quietly as the black haired girl strode to the tub farthest from her and turned away. She started to undress and ugly jealously reared in Hermione as she did.

How can anyone have skin that perfect? A face that perfect? Hair that perfect? It's just not fair. She's going to be the one every boy drools over.

Hermione remembered the girls in upper school; the pretty ones that all the older boys had ogled. None of them had a face like Harry's.

The black-haired girl pulled off her shirt. Hermione saw that Harry, like herself, wasn't packing anything up top, unlike Lavender who seemed to already have a medium-sized swell in her bosom. When Harry stepped out of her skirt, Hermione let out a loud gasp.

What in God's name is that! It's looks like chainmail! Rips all over; are… are those safety pins?

Harry had heard her and turned. "What?" she said simply.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but what… what is that?" asked Hermione, pointing at Harry's middle.

"They're my knickers obviously," replied Harry, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Why?"

"But Harry, they're… they're horrid!"

"Yeah? Horrid are they?" spat the girl angrily, pointing towards the door, her voice rising in a threatening crescendo. "First them... now you. I'm so interested in what you think of the only pair of knickers I have. Please, go on. In fact, why don't you tell me some more about my Dad's corpse, or better yet, why don't you shut your fat mouth?"

"Oh Harry, that's not-"

"Get bent, Hermione," said Harry, cutting her off and turning away sharply.

Hermione thought it wise not to make the situation any worse by protesting.

Harry pulled off the undergarments, stepped into the tub, and didn't say another word to her. They bathed in silence, Harry with her back turned. Every so often, she would see the black-haired girl duck beneath the water and reemerge, giggling to herself.

I have to make her understand… I wasn't trying to…

"Harry," Hermione whispered tentatively, "about what I said on the train; I'm just very curious you see and well-"

Harry didn't turn to face her as she interrupted and hissed, "I don't care! Why won't you just leave me alone?"

And that was that.

Harry finished washing, got out, and gathered up her things. She wrapped a towel around herself and quickly left the bathroom.

Well done, old girl. If I don't fix this, I won't have a single friend in our year. Neville is afraid of me. Dean and Seamus are intimidated. Although that one boy… Ron. He might talk to me.

'Not if he's friends with Harry,' said a jealous little voice at the back of her mind.

She sighed wistfully.

Who would choose me over Harry Potter?

Hermion spent an hour, soaking in the tub, thinking. When she returned to the dorm room, she found that Parvati and Lavender were asleep, but Harry was sitting up in bed with her lamp on. She had on a very ragged nightie that was tattered, ripped, and frayed. She was reading The Standard Book of Spells: Year 1, while petting the little snake Hermione had seen her with on the train.

I guess she's already read her books then. She's just skimming. A like mind! We have something in common… and I don't mind snakes. They're very interesting creatures. Plenty of medicinal purposes. The southern Ouomi tribe use snake venom to… Goodness... I really do have to stop giving myself lectures in my head. Ohhhh... I really want this to work...

"What's it's name, Harry? The snake?"

"Why do you care?" Harry didn't look up from her book as she pulled her four-poster's curtains shut.

Bugger. How can I fix-

An idea washed over her; and idea that was a stroke of genius.

I bet she did! I bet Mum packed them!

She ran to her trunk, pulled it open, and dug around until she found what she was looking for. As an afterthought, she pulled out a nice pair of blue pajama bottoms and one of her father's soft t-shirts that he had given her to sleep in. Walking over to Harry's bed, she wrenched open the curtains and sat down on the edge.

Harry glared furiously at her. "Excuse me! What do you think you're-"

Hermione interrupted quickly. "Here. I want you to have these." She stuffed an unopened bag of rolled-up green underwear into Harry's hands, along with the pjs and T-shirt. "You look about my size... so everything should fit. My mother always buys an extra bag of knickers for me when we go traveling. I think she still believes her little baby is going to wet the bed."

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't want your-"

Hermione cut her off again. "No! Shut up and listen to me! I'm sorry for what I said on the train. It was cruel to you and… and… I'm just a very curious person. To me, you were something I could question and observe to learn more about this world. I'm a Muggleborn you see. And in the bathroom just now… I was just very shocked to see that. They looked terrible and I can't imagine they must be pleasant to wear. So please... just take them. Even if you hate me, just take them... as an apology."

Harry gaped at her, her lips parted slightly in an 'o'. Eventually she gathered herself enough to say, "You know... you said all that in one breath. That can't be healthy."

"Oh… yes… I… I do that sometimes." She nodded back towards Parvati and Lavender's beds. "Listen… I have a gut feeling that neither of us will get along very well with those two, so I'd like to try and… I'd like to try and be friends with you. I've… I've never had many friends and well… I saw you skimming your textbook. I… I do the same thing you see. I'd like to get to know you. It would be nice to at least have someone that's civil with me, but if you're too upset about what I said before I understand. So… so… just think about it."

With that said, Hermione got up, put on her pajamas, and crawled into her own bed, tugging the curtains shut. She lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lavender snore like a squealing rabbit. She was almost asleep when she heard the crackling of plastic and much shuffling. She heard feet padding towards her bed. Harry opened the curtains and crawled in, sitting Indian-style next to her feet. She was wearing the shirt, the pjs, and, Hermione assumed the knickers as well.

Neither of them spoke.

Eventually Harry pawed at her foot and said, without looking up, "Thank you for the clothes, Hermione. That was really nice of you. They… They feel wonderful. I'm sorry I was so mad at you. It's just, what you said about my dad on the train; that… that he lost his… It just upset me so much to learn that he didn't… didn't die well. And you're right. Those knickers were horrid. I would… I often wake up bloody because the pins pop open."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I would have been angry with me too."

She noticed that Harry was rubbing her little snake's chin and it seemed to be thoroughly enjoying itself.

"What's its name then?" she asked curiously.

"Alice. I… found her in the garden."

"Really? She looks like a jungle snake." Hermione held out her hand and the snake coiled up her arm.

"Oh wow, " said Harry, smiling privately at the snake as if they had just shared a joke. "She likes you a lot."

"I like snakes too, I suppose. I've read quite a bit about them in my zoology books. They're very interesting creatures. Plenty of medicinal purposes. Did you know that the southern Ouomi tribe medicine men use snake venom to cure fever?"

Harry shook her head, but actually seemed interested in what she had to say... which was a first.

As Alice the Snake slithered around and around Hermione's tricep, Harry whispered under her breath, "I heard what they said about your hair." She nodded back towards Lavender and Parvati. "They were giggling at my nightie and Alice as well. Mean little bints."

Oh. A like mind indeed. I like her already.

0000

0000

0000

0000

Severus Snape stared bleakly around his classroom of Gryffindor and Slytherin first years.

Bunch of snotty-nosed brats. I do hate this job.

In the most menacing voice he could muster, he hissed softly "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly-simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes; the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a-"

SNORE

A deadly silence fell over the room.

Who dares?

A black-haired girl had her head in her arms at the back of the class. She sat between a brown-haired girl and a gangly redheaded boy. The brown-haired girl seemed petrified that his glare was upon them and she nudged the sleeping girl sharply in the ribs. The girl grunted. She nudged again and the offending girl woke violently, shouting, "TREACLE TART!"

The class burst into laughter. While he would have normally put an instant stop to the commotion, this time he found that he simply couldn't manage it as he stared, transfixed at her face.

Lily? … no… Ten years since she… It must be…

"Potter," he whispered silkily.

They look… oh Lily… why him… you were mine for so long… and then…

But Severus knew what had happened. He had called her… that... and she had never forgiven him.

She went and shacked up with that ponce and produced this… abomination. Potter's hair on her beautiful face. Disgusting.

He took the girl's disheveled appearance in. She seemed to be dazed by sleep and her eyebrows and robes were singed.

"Yes… Harry Potter… our new celebrity. Tell me, Potter, does this room look like a dormitory?"

The brown-haired girl next to her called out loudly before Potter could answer. "Please sir! It's the sleeping potion. She-"

"SILENCE. Well, Potter?"

"No, sir."

Severus smirked vindictively. "Well then... you must know everything there is to know about potions… since you feel the need to sleep in my classroom. Just as arrogant as your father."

"No, sir. I just..." Potter trailed off. She seemed to be angry at the jibe.

Good. Now... make a fool out of her.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The brown-haired girl's hand shot up like lightning, yet Potter remained silent.

He sneered.

Got you.

"Tut Tut – clearly fame isn't-"

"The Draught of Living Death, sir." She was staring right at him, Lily's eyes blazing with a triumphant look.

What?

He tried again. "Potter, tell me, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The brown haired girl's hand shot into the air, but Potter calmly answered, "The stomach of a goat, sir."

The class began to titter.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Potter looked at him, then at the brown-haired girl who was standing up, waving her hand in the air.

"They're the same plant, sir... it also goes by aconite. But you really should ask Hermione a question too, sir. She wants to answer more than I do."

"Potter..." he breathed angrily. "What does Golpalott's Third Law state about poison antidotes?"

She glared at him. "That's not in the First Year textbook, sir. Maybe you've forgotten, but Magical Drafts and Potions only covers Golpolott's First Law, which states that the potency of any potion is dependent upon the motion the brewer uses to stir, as well as the heat of the flame upon which the potion sits. "

How dare she… she… Lily's eyes and… and her mind. Damn you, Potter. You took this child away from me. She was supposed to be mine.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter. Well... why aren't you all copying the answers down?

0000

0000

0000

0000

Check out my profile for a link to this story's Fan-Art page. Contains some NSFW content.

Questions are answered on the review board.

Looking for someone to beta- Grammar Specific

Yes, Harry is more intelligent and more talented than canonHarry. She's Lily Potter's daughter after all. However, as you'll soon see, she's nowhere near the point of a Powerful!Harry or a Mary-Sue that can do everything and anything. I've simply always thought that canonHarry got the short end of the stick and I wanted to do something to change that.