AN: Listen, I still don't own this. I still wish I did, though.

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When Harriet arrived at Privet Drive, the Dursleys were quite wary of her. For a day, Harriet allowed herself to hope. However, when Dumbledore arrived the next day, he made it quite clear that Harriet was not allowed to use magic outside of school. Instantly, she could see the cruel gleam in her giant uncle's eyes. Once Dumbledore left, the abuse began at once.

Three hours later, Harriet heard to sound of a new padlock snapping into place outside the door of her cupboard. She began to shudder as she curled onto the tiny mattress. The only thing that kept her from crying out loud was that, after her recent experience with the Curiactus Curse, the pain was not nearly as bad. But she had nothing left. Her glasses were broken. Her ribs were bruised, some of them cracked. Her left arm was obviously broken. But, all of her belongings were locked upstairs in Dudley's second bedroom.

After four days locked in the cupboard under the stairs, Harriet could feel herself getting weaker. She was desperately hungry, impossibly thirsty, and she knew St. Mungo's was the only hospital in Britain that could fix her arm at this point. Slytherin self-preservation kicked in again.

'No…I will not allow the sodding Dursleys to be the death of me. Bloody Voldemort has failed, twice now. Sod the law, I am a witch, and I am saving my own life.'

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Deep in the night, Harriet wormed her good hand into the tear in the side of the mattress. As a child, she had hidden her most important things in this tear, like her secret library card. When she had returned from Hogwarts, she saw no reason to stop. For the first time in a week, Harriet cracked a smile as she removed her wand from the tear. Fighting the pain, she crouched in front of the door, wand pointed at the crack. It was a testament to her weakness that it took seven attempts to cast the Unlocking Charm. Slowly, trying not to make any noise, she crept up the stairs to the second bedroom. After another six attempts, she was able to unlock the door get her school trunk. Silently thanking her foresight for getting a permanent Lightening Charm on it, she carefully pulled her trunk down the stairs and out the front door.

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Albus Dumbledore, as Chief Warlock of the Wizgamot, had certain privileges. As such, he was the only one notified of the underage magic reported for 4 Privet Drive. He studied the letter in his hand carefully. The only magic, preformed in the dead of the night less than a week after he had left Harriet in the care of her family, were two Unlocking Charms. Did young Harriet flee from Privet Drive? And why were the Unlocking Charms necessary to do so? He had placed small Confundus Charms on the girl's family during his visit, ones that would greatly amplify positive emotions. Harriet should have had a fine summer there. No matter, he would have to track the girl down and force her to return to Privet Drive. It is for the Greater Good.

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Harriet Potter weakly stumbled from the Knight Bus into the Leaky Cauldron. Given the time of day, no one was in the pub, really, except for Tom, the seemingly eternal sentinel behind the bar. Tom, seeing Harriet Potter stumble into his pub in bloody Muggle clothes and dragging a trunk, rushed from behind the bar to meet her.

"Oh my goodness, Miss Potter, how can I help you?" Harriet looked at him blearily.

"Tom? Good, this is the right place. I need a place to stay, and to get to St. Mungo's. And I need to see whoever wizards go to when they need glasses." Tom made up his mind in an instant.

"Of course, Miss Potter. I'll take your trunk and put it up in one of my rooms. Then I'll help you to St. Mungo's. They'll be able to address your vision there as well." With a wave of his wand, Harriet's trunk flew from her weak grasp and up the stairs. "I'm sorry, Miss Potter, but this will likely be uncomfortable, but I hesitate to Floo with someone in your condition. Take my hand, please." With another wave of his wand to place a sign saying he shall return to the bar shortly, Tom Apparated Harriet directly to the hospital.

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When Harriet awoke, it took her a moment to realize that she was still in St. Mungo's. And at her bedside was the one person she really did not wish to see, Albus Dumbledore. In the back of her mind, she realized that she could see again, but wasn't wearing glasses. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind as unimportant for the moment.

"Professor, I will not return to Privet Drive. Not this summer, nor any thereafter. The moment after you left, Dudley and Uncle Vernon took turns beating me. After several hours, I was locked in the cupboard under the stairs for four days. Four days without food, water, light, or human contact, all the while nursing a broken arm and several cracked ribs along with a number of other welts and bruises. If I had not carefully hidden my wand the instant I got there, I would have died there. If you think I am exaggerating, I am sure that magic has ways of viewing my own memory." Dumbledore was taken aback. He did not expect the girl to, instantly upon waking, divine his purpose and launch into a speech to shut him down.

"Yes, my dear. I am what is called a Legillimens. I have the ability to look into the minds of others. If you would let me, I would like to see the complete memory of your brief stay with your family." At the girl's nod, Dumbledore drew his wand and stared into her eyes. "Legillimens!" Harriet immediately felt a foreign presence in her mind, like she had occasionally with Quirrell/Voldemort in her first year. Instead of trying to throw him out, she willingly brought up the memories he was looking for.

After a short time, Dumbledore sat back and Harriet felt his presence in her mind vanish. His eyes did not twinkle right now, and he looked deeply troubled.

"I am truly sorry, my dear, for what you went through. When I visited your family the day after you arrived, I placed several Confundus Charms on them that should have greatly increased any positive feelings they had towards you. I truly thought I was doing what was best for you." Harriet couldn't believe her ears.

"Professor, I tried to explain this to you in your office. The only positive feelings anyone in that house has towards me is the satisfaction of seeing me in trouble or in pain. For ten years, I was only a slave and an abomination to them. Until I went to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, my most prized possession was a library card that I had to keep absolutely hidden from the Dursleys, even though I needed parental consent to get it because I was seven at the time. I spent a month learning to copy Aunt Petunia's handwriting so I could forge a permission slip. After all of that, I could go to the library for maybe an hour or two a week. At least, until I had to start skipping school because it was impossible for me to do worse than Dudley, and I was brutally punished whenever I was better than him. Once I did, that library card was my only way to educate myself. There is nothing redeeming about that family, a family I certainly am not a part of.

"You claim I need to stay there for the blood wards. Well, Voldemort knows about them now, vaguely at least. And, as his own name tends to prove, the fear of something is just as powerful as the thing itself, even if it doesn't exist. Voldemort will be afraid to touch me for the rest of my life, whether or not the blood wards still hold." Dumbledore chuckled to himself, the twinkle in his eyes returning.

"My dear Harriet, it has been quite a long time since someone has read me the riot act. You also raise a good point about the blood wards. And, seeing what I have seen, I will not press to send you to the Dursley's any longer. Severus had warned me you seemed to be a Slytherin archetype. I legitimately pity anyone who would stand between you and your ambitions.

"Now, as you may or may not know, I am your magical guardian. As such, I was alerted when they admitted you here. If you would like, now that you are awake, I can return you to the Leaky Cauldron, where I understand Tom is holding your school trunk for you." Harriet smiled widely, just thankful to have some semblance of control in her life.

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Tracey Davis was rapidly losing her grip on her sanity. She was two weeks into her summer vacation, and she had received letters from both Blaise and Daphne, but none of them had heard from Harriet, save that Blaise had briefly seen her on Platform 9 ¾, as she removed her Invisibility Cloak that she had presumably spent the whole train ride, and likely most of the previous days under. Hearing an owl tap on her window, she spun, only to freeze in place upon seeing Hedwig. With her worry overcoming her shock, she quickly opened the window, allowing Hedwig in. The snowy owl took a perch on Tracey's desk, and presented a leg with a letter. Murmuring a thanks to the owl, Tracey untied the letter and instantly recognized Harriet's frankly terrible handwriting.

"Tracey-

I'm sorry. I really am. When I went and saw Dumbledore, he sentenced me to spending July with my Muggle relatives. Now, you three are smart little Slytherins, I'm sure you've already patched together that we don't exactly have a pleasant dynamic. This letter is going to explain exactly how unpleasant that dynamic is for me.

When I arrived at their home from King's Cross, the first thing I did was hide my wand. That action saved my life. You see, at first they, my Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin, were at least wary of me. After all, I could do magic now. But, the following day, Dumbledore came calling. As a part of his talk with them, of which I only heard pieces, he explained that as I am not of age, using magic outside of school is illegal.

The instant Dumbledore left, my uncle grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into the center of the house, away from the windows. Then, my uncle and cousin took turns nearly beating the life from my body. You should understand, I know I'm rather small for my age. But my uncle and cousin have far more in common with whales and pigs than people. They're huge, and without magic I can't fight back.

After a few hours of this, they seemed to get bored, or thought that I know "Knew my place". The beating stopped, but I did not get off lucky. My left arm was broken, my glasses shattered, several ribs fractured, numerous other contusions including two black eyes.

In that state, I was tossed into my childhood "bedroom", which in reality is a coat cupboard not much larger that a meter in any direction, and locked inside. For four days. Four days, Tracey. No food, no water, no light, no loo, saw neither hide nor hair of a human. During the fourth night, I realized they were never going to let me out. I had been locked up before, but never longer than 48 hours. And before, my jailors would often come to the door and scream at me, making sure I was learning whatever lesson I needed to learn. But this time, not a word was spoken to me in four days. So I, after a rather embarrassing number of failed attempts, used an illegal Unlocking Charm to escape the cupboard, and another to retrieve my trunk, before leaving and taking the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron. I passed out almost immediately, and my memory is rather fuzzy regardless, but I woke up the next afternoon in St. Mungo's, with the only lingering symptom being the after effects of my near complete dehydration and starvation.

After I awoke, Dumbledore and I came to an agreement, and I shall never set foot into 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, ever again, unless I am coming as an avenging angel. For the moment, I am staying in a room in the Leaky Cauldron, but if your parents are welcoming, I would love to come stay with you. I know we are still a couple weeks away from my birthday, but I was a serious prat the last days of term, and I would like to try to make it up to you.

Hedwig, smart girl that she is, has likely already delivered Daphne and Blaise their letters, and is waiting for your reply, since your reply most directly impacts my immediate future. Nonetheless, if you tell me to sod off, I understand.

~The repentant Prat-Who-Lived-Thrice.

It took several minutes before Tracey could tear her eyes away from the letter she had just read. It would likely have been several more minutes, had Hedwig not hooted indignantly. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Tracey fled the room, letter in hand, looking for her parents.

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The next morning, Tracey was waiting anxiously in the foyer of her home, staring into the fireplace.

Suddenly, the flames turned green, and a dark haired girl spun from the flames, ending flat on her back in the Davis foyer.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to hate magical transportation that doesn't involve a broom." From her position on the floor, she looked around until she found Tracey, and a crooked grin split her face. "Hey, Trace. Mind helping me up?" Tracey all but ran over, pulling her friend to her feet and wrapping her into a nearly rib breaking hug.

"Harri…we've been so worried…then I got your letter, and…Merlin, how could they do that to you? How could Dumbledore? I nearly went round the twist…" Harriet soothingly pat her friend's back.

"Trace, it's ok now. I made it out. I'm alive, and I never have to go back there. Now, enough of this sad, Hufflepuff nonsense. I'd love to meet your parents." A voice from the side of the room spoke.

"And I would to be introduced to you, Harriet Potter. Although, I think the Hufflepuff crack there was in bad taste." The two girls broke apart, and Tracey rolled her eyes.

"Harriet, this is my mother, Johanna Davis, and a Hufflepuff Alum." Harriet looked over at the young looking blonde woman leaning casually against the wall and saw the mirth in her eyes. Harriet smirked, and curtsied deeply.

"You will have to forgive my language, Madam Davis. I am a Slytherin to my core, and I'm sure you know how smug we can be at times. I also apologize in advance, as now that I am here, I fear I may bring out similar traits in your daughter." Johanna laughed aloud.

"Harriet, I do think I like you. Your cheek is rather refreshing. Tracey, why don't you show her around. I had Missy make sure the guest room across the hall from you is ready for her. We can do lunch at noon." Tracey laughed along with her mother, and grabbed Harriet by the arm, pulling her into the house and up the stair.

After lunch, the three adjourned to the lounge for tea. Smiling at her guest over her cup, Johanna spoke.

"I will admit, Harriet, the trunk Missy brought over was not what I was expecting for a girl your age, Slytherin or not." Harriet chuckled.

"I bought it for myself at Christmas. In all likelihood, I had more protection on my things than most of the teachers as a first year. I assume you at least know the jist of the letter I sent to Tracey yesterday?" Johanna's smile dimmed, and that answered Harriet's question. "Right. Well, suffice it to say, I learned the value of protecting what is mine from a young age. Then, of course, I started exchanging letters with the Potter account manager over at Gringotts." Harriet shrugged weakly. "I had the opportunity to take it to its logical conclusion." Harriet suddenly broke into a wide grin. "I mean, I asked if they could make the trunk in periwinkle, but those blokes down Knockturn Alley really like their black." Johanna just stared at her guest, while Tracey tried her best not to spit her tea all over her mother. Harriet sighed again.

"I've done some thinking the last couple weeks. I'm the Girl-Who-Lived, and if you'll excuse my language Mrs. Davis, I've been through some shit. But I'm not going to let myself be defined by what I've been through. I am a Slytherin, I am not lacking in ambition. I'm just going to keep moving forward, until what I've accomplished outshines what I've been through. And I know how hard that is going to be, considering the events of Halloween 1981 I count firmly in the "what I've been through" category." Both members of the Davis family just stared at Harriet with something between wonder and awe. Johanna found her voice first.

"Harriet Potter, you are by far the most mature and determined girl I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I only hope that when you take over the magical world, you do not forget me." Harriet looked at the woman askew.

"Mrs. Davis, are you sure you weren't in Slytherin?" There was a moment of silence, before all three broke into laughter.

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As days passed, Harriet fell into a rhythm for her stay at Davis Manor. She would wake up at what Tracey described as "an unholy hour" and go for a jog in the gardens. She had started her morning jogs at the behest of a Healer at St. Mungo's to overcome her lingering physical weakness. After breakfast with the Davis family, she and Tracey would retire upstairs to work on their summer homework. Then lunch, followed by tea with Tracey and her mother. The remaining hours of the day were split between further homework and flying over the back lawn. While Tracey was no grand flyer, Johanna had admitted to being a Chaser at school, and became a willing flying partner for Harriet in the afternoons.

On her birthday, Hogwarts letters for both girls arrived, and thus their daily studying shifted to reading ahead. As the days of August stretched past, for once in Harriet's life, she got a glimpse at what a normal life could be like. Both Johanna and Richard Davis had accepted her into their home as a surrogate daughter.

However, Harriet's paranoia prevented her from relaxing completely. So she planned, and plotted. With letters between visits, she made sure Blaise was ready to take over as the Slytherin information broker and provider of general contraband. Both Daphne and Richard were willing tutors for Harriet in the aspects of Pureblood society, and in what her role as Scion of Potter truly was.

There was also a conversation that Harriet and Johanna had one night, but Harriet was trying her best to forget that it had ever happened, not that Tracey would ever allow that to happen. Harriet also thought that Johanna would rather forget it as well.

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Almost before she knew it, Harriet was standing on Platform 9 ¾. They were quite early, but the four Slytherins had planned that. After they claimed a compartment at the back of the train, they closed the doors and sat down to plan.

"Blaise, good to see you. I assume you've been establishing yourself into your new position in our House this summer?" The dark boy nodded.

"That I have, with no major issues. There are a couple others who are going to try to step into the void that Collins left, but we'll be able to push them out."

"Whoever they are, don't immediately put them out of business. Study them first. If they actually show talent, recruit them." Daphne scowled.

"How, Harri?" Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Easy. I'll offer them a spot on my payroll. Or network grows, they get Galleons in their pocket, everybody wins. Especially us." Blaise looked thoughtful.

"Ok, I'll bite. Harri, how exactly rich are you?" Harriet just grinned widely, then reached into her satchel and passed Blaise a letter. The boy's eyebrows quickly began to chase his hairline. He cleared this throat as he passed the letter back.

"Well then. And the vault fills to that amount every month, from the ancestral Potter vault? That's…wow. Duly noted, we have more gold than we know what to do with. Do you mind if I offer to put some of our better informants on the payroll as well?" Harriet waved her hand dismissively.

"Not at all. That said, I've been thinking. Blaise, if we need to split your duties, let me know. You do need to pass class as well as traffic contraband and sell secrets." The boy shrugged.

"Isn't that why we keep Tracey around?" The brunette just glared at him. Fighting laughter, Harriet turned to look at Daphne.

"Alright, so, massive subject change, but Daphne, have you heard from those suspicious friends of your father?" The blonde looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head.

"Not anything specific. Why?" Harriet shook her head.

"Because I'm getting the feeling I'll never have a normal year at Hogwarts. Back at the beginning of the summer while I was staying in Diagon Alley, I got woken up in the middle of the night by a manic house elf that insisted I couldn't go to Hogwarts because it wasn't safe. Once I got to Tracey's, I got the Davis elf to do some recon for me. Turns out, the manic elf belongs to the Malfoy's. And if Lucius Malfoy is planning something that makes Hogwarts not a safe place for the Girl-Who-Lived…" She let the sentence die, allowing her friends to finish it for themselves. Tracey and Daphne shared a panicked look, while Blaise just groaned and let his face fall into his hands.

"First of all, Harri, before you get started, the three of us aren't going anywhere. The Dark Lord himself showed up last year. Whatever this scheme of Malfoy's is, it can't be worse than that." Blaise looked up, making eye contact with the three girls in turn, ending with Harriet. "In fact, if we can judge Malfoy senior by Malfoy junior, it is likely much better than that." The four second years smiled, and the train ride passed with easy conversation.

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After the Welcoming Feast, Harriet sought out Marcus Flint in their Common Room. The seventh year sneered at her in distain.

"What do you want, Potter?" Harriet just smiled serenely.

"I just have a simple question for you, Flint. I understand you are Captain of our Quidditch team this year. I am merely curious as to when tryouts will be held." If anything, the sneer on Flint's face intensified.

"There won't be tryouts, Potter. All of our positions are filled." Harriet glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and she dropped her voice, her smile turning predatory.

"I assure you, Flint, it would be best for you and our House team if you did hold tryouts." Flint rounded on her, anger filling his face.

"I am the King of Slytherin, Potter, and you will watch the way you speak to your betters, Half-Blood." To Flint's confusion, her smile didn't falter.

"I know you're King. I also know that one Spencer Collins put you into your position. I also know what you've done, Flint. It would be a shame if word got out about that lovely evening you had in Kent the summer after your fourth year, wouldn't it?" The words were spoken casually, but all the color drained from Flint's face. Harriet just smirked.

"What? Did you really think that you would stay as King after Collins left, and no one else would know your secrets? Did you think you could finally be your own man? Guess again, Flint. I know everything. I know that Kent is just the beginning. You should learn how to speak to your betters, Flint. I'll give you a couple days to book the pitch for tryouts and let me know of a date. Take too much time, and I might have to start a rumor or two." Harriet looked up at the seventh year's face, studying him. "I have no intention of controlling your every move. I require only two things from you this year. First, make no moves against me or any that follow me, and discourage the rest of our house from doing the same. Second, I will occasionally ask for a small favor, like having actual Quidditch tryouts. I expect you to cooperate when I do. Good night Flint, I await your posting of the date of tryouts."

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Bright and early on Saturday morning, Harriet walked out onto the Quidditch pitch, her Nimbus 2000 over her shoulder. The rest of the team were already there, including one Draco Malfoy. Harriet, cataloguing the faces, realized that all seven of her fellow Slytherins had Nimbus 2001s. Harriet scowled, which deepened when the Malfoy Scion opened his mouth.

"Oi! Scarhead, there's no place for you here. I am the Slytherin Seeker. And all of the other positions are filled as well." Harriet noted that Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind the pale boy, each with a Beater's bat in hand. Once she arrived at the group, she said nothing, only gave the team captain a significant look. Flint scowled, but cleared his throat.

"Malfoy, our Head of House passed on to me that Hooch had high praise for Potter's Seeker credentials. I would be quieter, if I were you, as your position is the only one on the team that is in jeopardy. Now that Potter has decided to join us, we can get our Seeker trial started. Crabbe, Goyle, get in the air. I'll release the Bludgers just after I release the Snitch. Let's see if our would-be Seekers can handle some pressure during their hunt. Potter, Malfoy in the air, let's get this over with." Draco, infuriated that he would actually have to try out, launched into the air with a huff. Harriet followed, pleased. She pulled up beside him in the air.

"I'm sorry, Draco, did you think that you could just buy your way onto the team? Did Daddy use his connections to buy these 2001s? It's really too bad for you that I convinced Flint to actually do tryouts, isn't it? Don't worry too badly, after all the gold your father spent on these brooms, I'm sure Flint will give you a Chaser spot after I beat you to the Snitch." Harriet had been watching their captain on the ground, standing beside the box that held the various Quidditch balls. She timed her speech so that she finished right as Flint began to shout up at them, leaving Draco no time to respond.

"Alright you lot. Snitch is away, Bludgers in ten seconds." Harriet shot her competitor a grin and sped off, putting some distance between herself and the Beaters as she began to scan for the glint of gold.

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At lunchtime, Harriet walked into the Great Hall, smirk on her face, and saw her friends already in their seats. Blaise, seeing her approach, noticed the smirk and returned one of his own. Daphne and Tracey, with their backs to the doors, were puzzled, until a victorious looking Harriet sat down across from them. Blaise sipped at his tea, then turned toward the new arrival as she began to fill her plate.

"From the look on your face, I assume Malfoy didn't get any better at flying over the summer?" Harriet nodded, then scowled at her plate briefly.

"Yeah, he still couldn't out fly a Muggleborn first year. He still made the team, though. Daddy Dearest bought the entire Slytherin team Nimbus 2001s, before they went into wide production. So Flint was practically forced into giving the ponce a Chaser spot. Crabbe and Goyle are our new Beaters, too. If Quidditch wasn't so much fun, I'd quit. On the upside, I now have a 2000 and a 2001 to choose from, at least once I take the one that Higgs currently has in his possession." From across the table, Tracey looked at the dark haired girl askew.

"Terence Higgs? The Sixth year? I'm fairly sure he would rather kill himself slowly than give you one of the seven privately owned Nimbus 2001s in Britain." Harriet chuckled to herself.

"Didn't you learn last year, Trace? No one can stop a Potter that has made up her mind."

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AN: Yeah…so Harriet wasn't really exaggerating about the Dursleys. But hey, Dumbledore learned his lesson, right? Right? Oh, yeah, I'm the only one who actually knows the answer to that question.

Regardless, questions, comments, and cries of anguish can be submitted directly to me via the box below.

~ExaltedChaos