AN: Hi all so as I mentioned in my last story for any who read it, I had struggled with picking up the plot as I was going through a series of final exams in school and creating a plan for University. Anyway my exams are now out of the way (FINALLY!) and I hope that this new story will not be disrupted, although I can not say for certain how frequently I will update. To begin with there will likely be some similarities to my other story however that will end quickly.

This story features a female version of Harry known as Isabella/Bella Potter a very lose portrayal of whom can be seen in the story cover.

Thanks and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1 – Once Upon A Time A Baby Was Left On A Doorstep

Mr Vernon Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive, was proud to say he was perfectly normal, in perfect accordance with his old family values. He and his wife Petunia were the last people you'd ever believe would be involved in anything mysterious, unless you counted being perfect in the public eye as mysterious of course. Mr Dursley had moved up in the world through sheer force of will rising from an amateur level competitive wrestler to the successful businessman he was today.

Mr Dursley was the director of Grunnings Drills International, Surrey Division, he was a big beefy man with hardly any neck and a large disdainful moustache. He spent his time complaining, working and spending time with his wonderful son Dudley and his wife Petunia who he had married because she was a proper woman who came from a middle class family and was more than willing to be the traditional wife a man of his conservative and bigoted values could want apart from holding down her part time job she was perfect and even the job was in a profession he could respect. The love between them had been strong at first, but the main bond between them had been their love of normality and abhorrence of anything decidedly unusual.

Petunia was thin, tall, and blonde with a very long neck, she was a nurse at a large hospital in London although after she got pregnant with Dudley she had chosen to stop working intent on becoming a stay at home wife and mother in their quiet upstanding neighbourhood, at least for the first few year or so of her sons life, and as far away from the strange beginnings of her life that had left her so set against anything out of the ordinary when she first met Vernon.

Although most people believed the Dursley family's only relatives to be the late Mr and Mrs Evans and Vernon's sister, Marge, they were very wrong.

Petunia Dursley had a sister, a niece and a brother-in-law, the Potters. Petunia hadn't seen her sister in almost three years, not since the disastrous meal her and Vernon had with the Potters that had ended with Vernon and James in a fist fight. Vernon hadn't been at all pleased when he discovered magic and had become more jealous than she herself had ever been especially after that day, from then on he'd forced her to cut contact with her sister (who she had the rockiest relationship with since they had been forced to speak after their parents sudden death) and she had done so to an extent, only continuing to send the most minor details to her sister like the date of Dudley's birth and the occasional update on her life if she thought Vernon would let her get away with it, although Lily still sent her lengthy letters which Petunia burnt the moment she read them immediately after they were removed from the ruddy owls used to send them.

Vernon Dursley loathed magic almost as much as Petunia Dursley was jealous of it.

Magic had ripped her sister from her when she was thirteen and Lily only eleven. Magic had made her different from her only sister and left her a jealous wreck when precious Lily became a successful witch as their parents watched on proudly. If she had any say magic would never again have a part in her life, but of course she would not get her wish and eventually her heart would be confronted, and she would be forced to make a choice.

On the first of November the Dursley family's believed normality came to an end, in the magical world the Dark lord Voldemort had disappeared and while the Death Eaters worried the community celebrated. Wizards and witches went around partying in colourful robes all through the muggle world, sending messages and magic into the air in broad daylight, one of the owls in fact passing right across Mr Dursley's office window right in front of his disbelieving eyes when he stood up to take a file from his cabinet.

At the same time young Isabella Potter was shunted around the wizarding world in secret as Albus Dumbledore made preparations to send the baby into hiding in the middle of Surrey right under the nose of the Ministry and the remaining Death Eaters. He left the child in the care of two of his most trusted friends, the half giant Rubeus Hagrid and the Healer Poppy Pomfrey as he worked, with the eventual plan to leave her with the Dursley family under the protection of blood magic.

In the middle of the night the oddest thing happened, a man snapped into existence in the middle of Privet Drive. This man was like no other who had ever been there before. He looked around and quickly headed towards number 4 and the curious grey cat that had been sat on the wall for the entire day. He was tall, thin, and very old, with silver hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon glasses and his nose was very long and crooked.

The man's name was Albus Dumbledore. If any of Privet Drive's residents were to see the aged wizard they would be appalled to find such a man on their street for no other as strange as him had ever been on Privet Drive before, at least not without being laughed off the street. Dumbledore knew none of this however, and even if he did it probably wouldn't have mattered to him.

Dumbledore had spent the last day in a rush of panic and legal battles in order to contain and grant guardianship of the first ever survivor of the killing curse and now he had to sequester her away with her blood relatives here in Surrey. Moving fast through the street, he pulled what appeared to be an ordinary silver cigarette lighter from his pocket and raised it in the air as though signalling to the heavens. He flicked it open and suddenly the light within streetlamps went out and small balls of light soared down the street into the lighter, cloaking the street in complete darkness, except for two pinpricks in the distance belonging to the cat on the wall of number 4.

Reaching the Dursley residence Dumbledore pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a lighting charm, just in time to see the tabby cat morph into a rather severe looking woman with black hair pulled into a bun and large square glasses, she too was wearing a cloak, a deep emerald one.

"Professor McGonagall, I trust all is well here?"

"Albus, you're here at last. The three Dursley's are all fine and there's been no activity in the area – other than all those partying people up and down the block. You must tell me, why did I have to watch Petunia Dursley today?" Minerva McGonagall questioned impatiently.

"Ahh yes, the parties. People do seem to be rejoicing don't they."

McGonagall sniffed angrily and fixed her gaze upon Dumbledore intent on getting her answers.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something big is going on. It was on their news. Petunia's being going out of her mind with worry, I've seen her, she kept checking outside the curtains hoping for an owl to arrive." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "Their news has reported on our mistakes. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're hardly stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense. I took the initiative to cast a charm stopping Petunia from considering heading into the city to find out what was going on." She seemed to be rather upset at being forced to pen someone into their own home.

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had nothing but chaos and terror for eleven years and even then we had barely recovered from the War of Secrecy. You know how much Grindelwald shook up the country and the world, and then Voldemort appeared just over two decades later. We were almost on our knees. You know as well as I do that the Ministry was losing, without the Order they would have fallen in the next two months, even with our help we were only looking at six to eight months at most. He was going to win, Minerva."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. We have laws for a reason," she began to pace the few steps between herself and the end of the pathway.

"People are being downright careless, they're disregarding the Statute in broad daylight swapping rumours and catching up on everything from war stories to the latest news about international Quidditch. Meanwhile Death Eaters and their supporters are scattering left right and centre." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on.

"If we're not careful the Statute will break and then not only will we have the ICW breathing down our necks but also the muggles. We must be careful. Still at least we have a chance to rebuild. That is assuming the Dark Lord really has gone, Albus?" McGonagall ranted fixing her gaze directly in line with Dumbledore's, almost making the formidable man flinch at the power within her gaze.

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of,"

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring.

"But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." She paused, and then added as an afterthought. "After all very few could fight him off on equal terms without having to flee in the middle of the fight, or recruit help."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - noble to sink to such depths."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

"Yes, well be that as it may, we are not here to discuss your skills – or lack thereof with the Dark Arts. We are meant to be discussing why I am here today and just what has got our people in such a tiff." Professor McGonagall stopped in her pacing and walked right up to Dumbledore until she was just inches from his crooked nose and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed Minerva had finally reached the topic she had been pressing for all along, for never had she fixed the headmaster with such a stare before and her face was heavy with worry and fear – fear that had led to her agreeing to sit on a cold, although due to cushioning charms not uncomfortable, wall all day watching the sister of one of her favourite students.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James are - are - that they're - dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill, Isabella. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little girl. They say even the killing curse failed and that Voldemort's magic failed on her, that Isabella is why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "How did Isabella the little baby who gets so excited at the sight of magic lights, survive – not just survive Voldemort but also the curse, it's meant to be impossible after all, so how could a fifteen month old girl survive it?"

"It's unlikely to be anything about Isabella herself carried out. I believe it relates to Lily's sacrifice and a blood-life shield of some description. But beyond that, well we can only begin to guess." Dumbledore mused.

A few minutes passed in silence, before Dumbledore gave a sigh and removed an intricate golden pocket watch and examined it.

"It is almost time."

"You wish to leave Isabella here, don't you?" McGonagall gasped, realisation crashing down upon her.

Dumbledore nodded and removed his wand from a pocket bringing it down in a smooth line level with the door to the house. "I'm afraid so. They're the only family she has left, and it is the only way to protect her from the rigors of our world."

"But Albus! You can't Petunia's husband, I swear there's something off about him, he's not a good man and Petunia hated James. This is a terrible idea-"

"That's enough!" Albus responded his voice cutting through the night like a cutting spell did to butter, "The Uncle will barely be around, he's a busy man he works five days a week in that high flying job of his and Petunia is a good person – after all she wanted to join Lily at Hogwarts – she would hardly have married him if he wasn't a good person. It's not like she needed his money what with her job, I'm sure she will not let her grudge with James stop her from caring for Lily's child. Besides her experience with Lily will more than make up for not having magic of her own, for she'll be able to identify Isabella's accidental magic and will be able to help her understand it."

Albus himself was certain of this, after all when the Evans family died their children had come into the money they had stored away from their modest life and yet high paying jobs in the medical and scientific fields. The Evans parents had lived a modest life using only a fraction of their money in their lifetime in order to provide their daughters with a reasonable inheritance that was intended to get them started in life – Petunia had no need for Vernon Dursley's money at this point in time, especially with her sister having married into the Potter family wealth. No, he was sure Vernon Dursley must have been an upstanding man with high morals to have married Petunia Evans.

A slight pop echoed in the night as a wicker baby basket appeared on the doorstep with a sleeping baby girl nestled within.

"You're insane. Albus, you can't possibly think that you can hide her in the middle of Surrey without the Ministry finding out." McGonagall fumed, her voice never once going above a harsh whisper so as to not attract the attention of the muggles.

"It's not like they'll just ignore a single witch suddenly popping up in the middle of an all muggle community, you know they'll check it out to register her as a 'muggleborn' if nothing else. For Merlin's sake Albus!" McGonagall continued her cynical tone almost causing the man to rear back in shock. Minerva had always been one for challenges, but this was ridiculous, to expect a muggle to successfully hide a famous witch not far from the heart of the country was out of the question no matter how much Petunia may care for the lass, and even that wasn't certain after all she'd never even met the girl.

"I've got it all taken care of Minnie. Trust me Isabella Potter will be perfectly safe from those in our world who may wish to harm her here." Albus paused and removed a letter and small package from his cloak, "You know how our world treats the famed. She'll never know peace if she grows up with us, can't you see how much better off she'll be growing up away from all those expectations until she's ready to take it?"

"Yes. Yes. I suppose your right." Sighing McGonagall shook her head in resignation knowing that there was just one more thing she could do, "At least tell me you'll have someone around to keep a watch?"

Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling away. "It's all taken care of. Arabella has just moved into the area."

Pacified McGonagall spared one last glance at the child of her star pupils, before apparating away with a barely audible crack.

His colleague gone, Dumbledore moved to crouch down beside Isabella, slipping the letter and parcel into her basket and with a whispered:

"Good luck, Isabella Potter!"

The wizard disappeared from Hallerton Road and a wave of red energy pulsed through the street encasing the Dursley residence in a field of protective power.

A breeze swept down the street, which lay silent except for the occasional clatter of an animal, the very last place you would expect magic to lurk. Isabella Potter rolled over inside her blankets without waking up. Not knowing she was special, not knowing that in a few hours' time her Aunt Petunia's scream would awaken her as she opened the door to collect her morning delivery, nor that she would spend the next ten years at the mercy of an aunt and uncle who both feared her and saw her as a disposable life. She slept on having no clue that across the world she would soon be famous, famous for a deed she would never remember. A deed that came about upon the completion of an act that no one had ever done before, nor that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were raising their glasses in a cheer and calling out for the safety and prosperity of:

"Isabella Potter – the Girl Who Lived!"

(A few days later)

Albus sat back in his chair having moved the last of the letters before him into one of the stacks across his desk. There were hundreds of letters. All written to Isabella Potter by the thankful citizens of the wizarding world, including some from various agencies wanting to study the survivor of the killing curse, and even some from Voldemort sympathisers and supporters that would need to be sent to the DMLE. It amazed Albus that people thought they'd get away with, using post to hex and injure a todler for revenge… it was unthinkable.

He needed Isabella safe and sound when she came to the wizarding world. She couldn't receive any of this post until it was time for her to return to the wizarding world in ten years. Albus needed Isabella to come to the wizarding world without any loyalties to anyone, a clean slate; the fame and prestige of the Girl Who Lived combined with the rich legacy of the Potter family and the fresh eyes of someone raised in the innovative and progressive muggle world… well, it might just help save the wizarding world.

With his guidance Isabella would be able to lead the wizarding world out of the past and into a new age. After all if they wanted to survive wizards and witches needed to start progressing again.

Albus sighed and pulled the latest Prophet towards him sparing another glance at the front page. The article was truly shocking and if not for all the evidence, Albus would never have believed what it depicted:

Black as Black as his name!

Sirius Black found guilty of the murders of twelve muggles and one wizard!

The story the article painted was horrific and surprising. If Albus had seen what young Sirius was like… well… maybe he could have saved the Potters and poor Peter Pettigrew. Still Black was in Azkaban now and would never harm another, unless Voldemort ever got back into power and managed to release him. He chuckled.

One day the Dark Lord would be back and Isabella would be needed to stop him.

Although he wasn't certain Albus believed the Dark Lord had made a horcrux and until he could find and destroy it that meant he could come back one day and Isabella was the only one who could stop him, it was why he'd sent her to be raised in a safe and loving place away from those who may want to do her harm.

He could only hope they'd be able to prevent his return, at the very least until Isabella was of age…