Chapter One

The orange tabby stumbled as she escaped the wreckage of what was once her home. She probably could've still survived there, she thought, but there was so much death and destruction; so much fear and sadness; so much hatred and regret- all within the home of a man, a woman, their son, and his cat.

She had watched over the boy as he slept each night, she not sleeping herself for fear of what was to come. The father worried over the pet; the mother worried over her son; the kitten worried over all three of them, for she knew that she would be the only Potter to live peacefully, if not happily.

And just now, they were gone- that kind family of three. The mother and father, trapped in that mess of a house, long since dead; and the boy, the beautiful, wonderful, terrible baby boy, had been taken away by a man with a motorcycle.

And Jane,- the cat, you see, her name was Jane- Jane was left all alone, forced to fend for herself, and unable to protect the little boy whose life, she knew, would only just get worse.

And it did. I'm sure you all know the story of Harry Potter, unless you're either a muggle or an idiot. You know how sad and harsh and terrible Harry's life was.

And I'm not saying Jane's was any better. Most people would actually say it was worse. But Jane thought her life a luxury compared to the poor boy she left behind. But it was hard to always find food or shelter for the night. Especially since Jane was no longer an orange kitten whose face looked like she had run face-first into a brick wall.

Jane was now a twelve-year-old girl.

A human girl.

A human girl who cried at night in fear for a boy she barely even knew.

But she dreamed of him. Every night, she dreamed of that little boy, not so little anymore, and every night, she awoke crying, wishing she could find that boy, protect him, and finally be the sister he deserved.

At least, she thought of herself as his sister. She didn't know if they were related biologically at all, but even if they weren't, she was his protector, and to her, that's what "sister" meant.

After being awakened by a particularly nasty flashback, Jane sat up on the ground in the alley she'd found the night before. The dream had been one she'd had many times before, so the girl wasn't sure what had woken her, but then she heard it- a tapping sound on the wall behind her.

Jane's eyes widened as she realized what was happening and she quickly scrambled out of the way before the wall imploded and a girl tumbled through the hole.

Jane stood back, eyes wide, as the strange girl sat back on her feet and watched Jane with interest.

"Who are you?" the stranger asked, her voice with an American accent.

"Who are you?" Jane returned, her own accent matching her British surroundings.

"I asked first," the American argued.

"I asked second," Jane countered.

The stranger sighed. "Why does every stinkin' person in this whole stinkin' country say that?" she muttered.

"Fine. I'm Jane," the Brit finally gave in.

The other girl looked up. "Eleanor," she returned. "Oh, and by the way," Eleanor snapped her fingers.

Jane wasn't sure if that was supposed to do anything, but Eleanor seemed pretty proud of herself. Eleanor then smirked to herself and did something Jane could only describe as "interesting".

The American held up two fingers pressed together and waved them in front of Jane's face in a rainbow-shape.

"I am not here," she said in a hypnotizing (A/N: Jedi!) voice.

Confused, Jane copied the gesture, thinking it was some American tradition or something, and said, in a similar tone, "Yes you are."

Eleanor frowned and snapped her fingers again, a bit more frantically this time.

"No, I'm not," she assured Jane, doing the finger-rainbow thing again.

Jane blinked once. Twice. What was wrong with this girl?

Abandoning the rainbow gesture, Jane pointed out, "Yes. You are. You're right there."

Eleanor scowled at Jane; then studied her right hand.

"Why aren't you working?" she muttered, snapping her fingers repeatedly again. "You always work. The only time you don't work is when…"

Eleanor slowly looked up at Jane. That gave Jane a chance to actually get a good look at the girl.

Her hair was a dirty blonde, while Jane's was dark red, with bits of wood and plaster in the American's from tumbling through a wall. Her eyes were a strange gray that Jane had never seen before on a person and wasn't sure if it was quite natural, since her own were hazelish.

Concentrating on Eleanor again, Jane noticed that the American was staring thoughtfully at her.

"Are you a half-blood?"

Jane frowned. She didn't know. She knew the meaning of the term, of course, but since she didn't know her real birth parents, she wasn't sure. However…if she thought of Harry's parents….

"I believe so, yes," Jane replied to Eleanor's question.

The American grinned. "Awesome!" she exclaimed. "This is great! I thought I was the only half-blood in England!"

This comment confused Jane, since thought half-bloods were quite common in the Wizarding World, but she didn't say anything.

"Oh my gods! I'll have to tell Annabeth!" Eleanor continued. "Or…" she seemed to have a sudden thought. "I could show her…"

Eleanor turned to Jane and smiled evilly.

"Hey, Jane," she began. "You ever been to New York?"