Author's Notes: Hello all, sorry for the delay in launching the next book of the Harry (Heather) Potter series. Real life caught up with me and finding time to write became scarce. Hopefully, I can get ahead in this book so I can keep it rolling. I promise I'm not abandoning this project until it's complete. Thank you all again for your patience.

As always the world of Harry Potter does not belong to me but J.K. Rowling

Chapter 1

It was an uncomfortably warm night on Privet Drive. While the rest of the Dursley's had gone to sleep hours before, in the smallest bedroom a teenaged boy was writing in a blue book. His quill blotted the page as he vented his frustrations the only way he could. He wasn't very big for his age, hardly having grown since last summer, and his black hair lay wherever it wanted on his head despite efforts to tame it. His shirt clung to his back with sweat, despite the open window and the lateness of the evening, showing a rather slim figure underneath.

Thursday, July 28, 1995

Dear Diary

I've been back in this house for almost four weeks and I'm going mad. I keep dreaming about the graveyard every night and I know I'm talking in my sleep. The Dursley's are giving me even more looks than they normally do, and despite my best efforts I can't seem to find any sign of Voldemort anywhere. I keep trying to sneak the paper and listen in on the news to even catch a hint of what he's doing, but nothing. The Prophet isn't any help either. I've given up reading anything more than the front cover until they realize what's going on.

What makes everything worse is the letters from Hermione, Sirius, and Ron. All they've sent are empty letters with no news, but I can tell they are all together, probably at the Burrow. Why can't I be there with them? I haven't heard from Ginny at all, and Hermione's letters are always addressed to Harry. She told me at the end of last year she'd be using Heather in all her letters to me. When I saw the outside of the first letter I thought she may have put Harry in case anyone saw her sending it, but it was the same at the top of the page when I opened it. I can't believe after everything last year she would have changed her mind about me. And all she can find to write is that they are very busy and can't say much. I'm going mental.

Slamming the book shut without even waiting for the ink to dry, Harry stood and walked to the open window and looked out on the dark backyard below. It isn't fair, he thought to himself. Why do they get to be together while I'm left here?. Continuing to fume he looked over at the old, repaired alarm clock on the bedside table. It was after three, and he knew if he didn't get to bed soon his temper would be even shorter tomorrow, which never boded well around his aunt and uncle.

The next morning the sun rose to find him asleep in his bed, having not even changed out of his clothes. A sharp rap on the door woke him, followed by his aunt yelling at him to get up. Downstairs in the kitchen the three Dursley's didn't speak to him as he sat down to his breakfast. This was by no means different from any other morning. That afternoon, after weeding the dry flower beds of non existent weeds, Harry returned to his room to find Hedwig waiting with a package from Hermione. Looking at the label and seeing Harry written there was almost too much. Anger rose in the pit of his stomach and for a moment he considered throwing it away unopened. After a moment he calmed his all too frayed nerves and peeled back the paper. As he ripped a letter fell out of the wrappings.

Harry

I'm sorry I haven't been able to write more to you this summer. And I know my letters aren't what you were expecting from me. We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray. I'm hoping that this will cheer you up. I know it's a few days before your birthday, but I wanted you to have these early. I expect we'll be seeing you quite soon

Love,

Hermione

Curious despite his anger, Harry ripped off the rest of the wrapping from the package to find a box of assorted Honeyduke's chocolates, and a small black felt box. Setting the chocolate to the side Harry opened the little box. Inside rested a necklace with a heart shaped pendant on a gold chain. The heart was ruby red with a gold lion embossed on it.

Harry pulled it from the box and walked over to his wardrobe. On the inside of the door was a mirror, one he rarely used. Standing it front of it he clasped the necklace behind his neck and positioned the charm in the center of his breast. It hung low enough to be able to be hidden by a shirt, but Harry knew that anything he wore as Heather that had a low neckline would leave it seen.

Seeing his reflection, he noticed that less and less he was seeing his father's face looking back at him. He still resembled James Potter in almost every way except for his eyes, but somehow, he was seeing himself as softer. That was certainly helped by the fact that he was still very skinny and small for his age. While most of the boys his age were much taller than the girls, he was just barely taller than Hermione or Ginny. After one more glance in the mirror, Harry climbed into bed and fell asleep

Less than a week later Harry found himself pacing back and forth in his room, raging at the world and people he almost didn't consider friends anymore. It had been four days since he had been attacked by dementors and fought them off, and he hadn't gotten any response to his letters. Uncle Vernon had come in a few hours before, telling him they were going out, but Harry hadn't really paid him that much attention. Once he'd heard the car leave he looked out on the yard again and considered throwing the necklace as far away as he could. Just as he pulled his arm back to throw it, better sense took over and he just chucked it into the corner. With that. He collapsed on his bed, energy spent, and watched the light recede from the ceiling as the sun set.

It was well past dark when he sat up quickly. From downstairs he had heard a crash, like something had fallen. His first thought was burglars, causing him to snatch up his wand and face the door. Remembering that Uncle Vernon had locked it from the outside before they left, Harry waited, straining his ears for any further sound.

With a click that sounded like a bomb to Harry's heightened senses, his door unlocked and it slowly swung open. The lights in the upstairs hall were out, and from where he stood Harry couldn't see anyone out on the landing. Slowly, his heart pounding in his ears, Harry crept forward, wand held ready. On the landing he could hear whispered voices from below, but no one seemed to be that worried about being overheard. His curiosity peaked, Harry started down the stairs, coming to a halt on the small landing where the stairs turned. In the hall were more than half a dozen people, all staring up at him. In the front center was Remus Lupin. After some hurried introductions, and a check that he was in fact Harry Potter, he and a woman named Tonks went upstairs to pack his trunk.

In his bedroom Harry began to throw his belongings pell-mell into his open trunk, not even stopping to think that his diary was laying open on his desk, or that the necklace he'd gotten for his birthday was laying on the floor. Tonks, who was admiring herself in his mirror, expressed a distaste with her purple hair and in the blink of an eye it turned a vibrant pink.

"How'd you do that?" asked Harry, his mouth gaping without even realizing it.

"I'm a metamorphmagus" Tonks replied, taking in her new hair from a few different angles. "Means I can change my appearance however I want to at will. It's dead helpful for being an auror."

"You're an auror," said Harry. He was extremely impressed at this. Being a dark wizard catcher was just about the only job he'd considered taking after he was done at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, so is Kingsley, you met him downstairs." She answered, turning to look at him.

"Can you become a metamorphmagus?" Harry asked, feeling a slight jealousy at her abilities.

Tonks chuckled at him, her eyes doing the awfully familiar flick upwards to his forehead. "Bet you'd like to be able to hide that scar of yours."

"Yeah, among other things." Harry replied without thinking. For a moment he hadn't even thought about his scar. He was imagining transforming his body into Heather at the blink of an eye, including adding some things he was missing in that regard.

Tonks was looking at him with a curious expression, and Harry realized he'd spoken a bit too much. Blushing slightly, he turned and resumed hi hurried packing.

"Oh, let me," said Tonks, pulling out her wand. "Pack!" she cried, waving her arm in a wide arc. From across the room all of Harry's school things flew into his trunk, completely without any organization or tidiness.

"Sorry, It's not very neat. I'm not to good at these household spells. Hold on," she said, picking something up off the floor. It was the necklace; it had tried to fly into the trunk but had hit Harry's desk chair and fallen to the floor. She held it out to look at it. "Very pretty, belong to your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Harry lied quickly, grabbing onto the proffered explanation. "She, uhh, gave I to me to remind me of her over the summer."

"I'll have to hear all about her later. But we've got to go, we're running late." She handed him the necklace and he slipped it into his pocket, checked to make sure his diary was well hidden in his trunk, and slammed the lid shut. He grabbed Hedwig's empty cage and his broomstick, and followed Tonks and his levitated trunk down the stairs.