I know, a whole year since I last updated! To be honest, I needed a break and I had a lot of personal things going on that I had to work through. I hope you guys can forgive me, and I hope this chapter makes up for it! It's a whopping 10,000 words… So beware!

I was originally going to do this chapter in Harry's P.O.V, but I felt Amanda's just fit better and I wasn't quite done with her yet, so I swapped over. Don't worry, Harry's P.O.V is coming up soon.

Chapter three:

I made it home.

Amanda's P.O.V

They found her in the seventh private inquisition room they visited in the human embassy. She was standing at the far side of the room, beyond the substantial table that took up most of the free space, back towards them, peering out of the large window to the horizon before her. One of her hands was up against the glass, fingertip skimming the surface, tracing out the grand cityscape, gliding over arching towers and spiralling domes.

For a moment, Amanda wanted to immortalize that image, even though she could not see the girls face. She simply looked so… Peaceful. Vulcan's hot sun was swathing her in rich amber hues, her shoulders were lax and loose, finger playing along the window pane. It was an image of tranquillity that Amanda doubted she would get to see again, at least for a little while. However, as soon as the door swished shut behind them, the tranquillity was gone. Her frame stiffened, her hand dropping as she craned her neck over her shoulder to spot her visitors.

"Are you my delegates?"

Her question went unanswered as Sarek nimbly plucked the rooms data padd from it's holder by the door, flicking through the most recent files that would hold the information of the girls visit. To have a private inquisition room, she must have already made a first statement, one imposing enough to have her be granted delegates and privacy. Spock stood guard by the door, stiff and unforgiving. And Amanda… Amanda didn't know what to say or do.

So many words, so many years, and yet, nothing would come to her mouth. This girl, this seventeen-year-old with emerald eyes, who looked to be in need of a good meal, it was her T'Harauk. Amanda knew it. She Knew it. Sarek, who had not pulled out the gene tester he had in his pocket to test her DNA, also seemed to be of the same mind. Spock, her son, the gods knew what he was thinking, with his carven, blank face. Amanda hardly knew what she herself was thinking, let alone to have enough energy to decipher her sons strong Vulcan façade.

Thin. Weary. Tired. She looked so small then. This girl, her T'Harauk. Food. She needed food and drink. Amanda made her way over to the small side replicator squirrelled away in the corner of the room, ready for use should the inquisitions take longer than necessary, shakily dashing in some buttons with a quivering hand. She must be hungry, who knew how far she had travelled, for how long, through what conditions. The Plomeek soup was cool, bubbling and refreshing, yet filling. It would be a good start. With less grace than a Tar-kek bear, Amanda made it to the table in the middle of the room, pushing the large bowl towards the girl with an unsteady smile fluttering at her lips.

"Here you go."

T'Harauk fully turned towards them, her gaze flickering between Amanda, Sarek and Spock before she slid forward with hesitant steps. She was a graceful thing, steps sure and confident, yet small and slow, cautious, as if she was expecting to be attacked should she venture too near too fast. Amanda herself took a lone step backwards, just enough to give her enough room, to ensure she didn't feel trapped or cornered. This close, with Sarek and Spock beside her, she could tell while T'Harauk's features took on the classical Vulcan elegance and keenness, while she was the spit of Sarek in female form, T'Harauk had inherited her smaller height from Amanda.

For the longest moment, T'Harauk simply gazed down at the bowl. Then… Then she smiled, bright and hot like the sun outside and skirted in closer, unceremoniously dipping her hands into the broth and scrubbing. Amanda couldn't stop the choking guffaw that fought itself free from her throat. Sarek stalled on the data padd, Spock diverted his gaze almost immediately as her hands fell into the liquid and T'Harauk's gaze snapped towards her, freezing in her movement, eyes large and confused but innocently glinting.

"What? Is it rude to wash your hands too?"

Vulcan's were notoriously possessive of the sense of touch. They guarded their hands zealously. Fanatically almost. Of course, with well reasoning. It is why they mainly kept them clasped behind their back, why female Vulcans almost always wore a glove of some sort, why touch was not common amongst their people. Their hands were an intimate affair. Amanda herself had only ever seen two Vulcan's washing their hands. Sarek, in their private living quarters and Spock, when he was but a child himself. T'Harauk brazenly scrubbing… Well, it would have been similar to a human walking up to a stranger, stripping off till they were naked and then proceeding to washing themselves down with barbeque sauce all the while keeping eye contact with the stranger.

Amanda made a beeline for the replicator once more as Sarek joined his son in turning around, a soft hue of green blossoming against his face as Amanda gathered a towel, fresh Pomleek soup and a jug and bowl of water so T'Harauk could wash her hands off. Did she not know? She must have. Vulcans were a well-documented race, their customs publicly known. Then why? Had she never met a Vulcan before? Surely she had…

"Oh, no. Not at all. But this is broth. Food. We don't normally wash our hands in food. Neither do we normally wash them in public."

Amanda advised as she dropped the tray of fresh soup and washing utensils in front of the young girl. T'Harauk pulled her hands away from the bowl of soup as if it had burned her, her ears and cheeks flashing green, as she gazed down at them before skimming a glance to the backs of Sarek and Spock over to the bowl and Amanda's own blushing face. The situation hit home and she began to wash her hands off, rambling apologetically in such a human way. It was odd, disorientating, to see such an obvious Vulcan and yet hear someone who was clearly human.

"Sorry… I… Ummm… I'm still learning. I don't know much about Vulcans. I, uh, I don't know why I'm being kept here but if it's about that stall of... Fruit? I want to say fruit, that I knocked over, I promise, I'll pay for it. Wait... You're that woman I bumped into, aren't you? Well, if this is about that, if I've crossed some line or taboo in your... Our... Mine? In Vulcan culture, I really didn't mean to and I apologize. Surely I don't need to be locked in here for much longer?"

T'Harauk washed her hands off, dried them hurriedly, and folded the towel back up before placing it back onto the table, but she did not venture near the soup again. Only when the towel was back on the table and Amanda gave a subtle cough did Sarek or Spock turn around once more. There was another bout of silence, muggy, that settled over them as Sarek strolled forward, taking a seat at the table with an air of distinguished dignity that Amanda, no matter her efforts, could ever replicate. Virtually, as soon as Sarek had settled, T'Harauk turned severe, placid but still and cold.

"Look, it is imperative that I find a man-… A Vulcan called Spaalvan. I was informed he was working here in the human embassy."

Ah, she had also taken her fathers quick mind by the way she singled in on him with a shrewd sort of awareness. T'Harauk wanted things done, and rightly so, she had pin-pointed Sarek out to be the one to discuss such matters if they were to be resolved quickly. Sarek quickly glanced up from the padd before resuming his search.

"Spaalvan? The Chief of our external affairs with the Romulans in conjunction with the human representative. A very interesting Vulcan to wish to speak to, wouldn't you say?"

Amanda felt, at the mention of Romulans, a sharp, twisting pain in her chest. T'Harauk's silence malformed that twist into an aching grind. Did she know? Had she been with the Romulans all this time? What had they done to her child? That scar on her forehead, thick, white… The one on her hand that Amanda had spotted as she dried her hands, words carved and gnarled, I will not tell lies… Amanda felt dizzy, sick, violent and melancholic. Why was she only seeing the scars now? The bruise on her jaw, the dark sage blemish underneath T'Harauk's eyes that screamed of sleepless nights? How could she have so wilfully and blissfully have missed them so?

The scrape of a chair rattled in the air of the room as Sarek gently slid the one besides him out, offering Amanda some stable ground to rebalance herself. A seat she gratefully took. From underneath the table, she felt the brush of a pinky finger skim the outer rim of her hand. Only then did she realize she had been clenching her hands into her own tunic so hard her fingers had turned numb and prickly. Strength. She needed to be strong. That was what Sarek was silently offering her, requesting of her.

First, they needed to get to the bottom of this, they needed to know what T'Harauk knew, if she knew anything, which she likely did if she was petitioning for an audience with the Vulcan in charge of dealing with Romulan attacks, espionage and scheming within Vulcan. She could do this. She would let Sarek ask his questions, she would listen, and when all was said and done… She would take her little girl home. Only, T'Harauk wasn't so little anymore, and she herself said she did not know of Vulcan and its customs…

"Harriet Potter, seventeen, Vulcan… It says on your padd that you are seeking asylum on Vulcan."

Sarek spoke with a calm, unchanging voice as he placed the padd down upon the table, lifting his eyes up to meet T'Harauk.

"Just Harry… My name's Harry and Yes."

The ache in Amanda's chest burned. T'Harauk wasn't so little, she knew not of her own heritage, and now she was not even T'Harauk, but Harry… This was her baby, her stolen child, and now, more than ever, she was a stranger. No. Not a stranger. Never a stranger. That was her child. Hers. Time had passed and she had grown, but she was alive, and time would pass as it always did and Amanda would come to know her, as deeply as she knew Sarek, as irrevocably as Spock.

If she wanted to be known as Harry, Harry would she would be. If she wanted the moon, if only for Amanda to get to know her, to bring her home like she couldn't all those nights ago, where she belonged, then the moon she would have. T'Ha-… Harry's eyes slanted as she eyed Sarek up and down, before taking her own seat opposite them.

"You are Vulcan yourself. Claiming asylum is pointless. You already hold citizenship through your race. Additionally, why come to the human embassy to claim such?"

It was clear to Amanda what Sarek was trying to figure out. Why had Harry come to humans rather than to go to Vulcans, to her own people. Harry leant back in her chair, nonchalantly shrugging.

"As I am sure you can tell, I did not grow up on Vulcan. I am not sure if I was even born here. I don't know your politics, your relations, your laws. Where I am from, you have to be born in a country, on their land, to be a citizen. I thought it prudent to seek asylum should the two be of similar predisposition."

Sarek did not miss a beat.

"That is an earth custom. You were raised on earth? This is why you have come to the human embassy, to transfer over your citizenship to Vulcan. However, as I previously stated, this is redundant. You already hold citizenship from your birth as a Vulcan."

Harry's mannerisms, her accent, her expressive, lively face. Harry had grown up on earth. Amanda didn't know whether this made her feel worse or better. Most humans were kind, they were a rich race, poverty had been eradicated. If Harry found earth as her home, her life would not have been as horrific as the alternative of Romulus. However, it was earth. Amanda's home world. Surely, she should have known, she should have thought to check earth in all these years, well, check deeper than she already had. She was her mother, she should have felt it in her gut, where were her instincts? Had she failed further? No. She couldn't think of that now. Harry was alive and relatively well, Amanda simply had to keep reminding herself of that. Now they had what they never had before, a chance. An opportunity Amanda would not relinquish.

"Well, now I know. Thank you for saving me a hell of a lot of paperwork and time. But please, I have to speak to Spaalvan-"

Sarek cut Harry off.

"Of Romulans? It also states on your data pad that you have claimed abduction by Romulans. This is the crux of why you are seeking asylum, yes? You are fearful of further attacks by Romulans?"

Harry scrubbed at her eyes, wincing, and all Amanda wanted to do was to take her into her arms, to feel a heartbeat there. But she couldn't, not right now. Harry knew of Romulans, she knew of her abduction. Sarek was correct, if she was seeking asylum, she was obviously worried of being traced and followed. Amanda's gut sank. If she was worried of this, it meant that exact fear had come to pass already, otherwise she would not know to run or hide.

"Yes, no. No. I-… They won't come for me again, not directly, at least. And if they do, I can handle them. But I have family, I am sure I have family still alive. I need protection for them, wherever they may be. If I am Vulcan-"

This time it was Amanda that jammed her way into the conversation.

"This is your home. You are Vulcan."

She knew of them, of her family, and yet, Harry could not see them sitting right in front of her. Amanda wanted to tell her, she wanted to scream it and laugh and cry, but the words wouldn't come. Amanda begged for them to, but they only soured her mouth and swelled her tongue to a useless lump of flesh. So many thoughts, so many feelings, too many. Too much. Amanda wanted to leave, she wanted to stay, she wanted everything and nothing and she could not settle on a single thing.

Look at me and see. See me. Your mother. See me. See. Me.

But Harry didn't.

"Because I am Vulcan, I am sure they would be recorded somewhere here. If the… Romulans as you call them, come for me once more, I need to know they will be protected."

A strange noise rattled from Amanda's chest, something caught between a chuckle and a painful whine. Harry cut a look towards her, edged eyebrows pulling down in a worried frown, a hand she had placed on the table twitching as if she wanted to reach out and comfort Amanda, but stalled herself in time. She was trying to protect them. Them. It should be the other way around. They should be protecting her. They should have always been protecting her and they hadn't. Amanda hadn't, and she could only feel that failure like glass shards stuck in her throat, choking her. Harry did not even know they were right in front of her, right there, within touching distance, and still, she was thinking of them. Sarek managed to say what Amanda could not, as he always did.

"By seeking asylum, you are alerting the government to your whereabouts and survival. This is the sort of information that is easily leaked. Information that can spread to the very Romulans you are sure are coming for you. However, you do not care for that, do you? In fact, I believe it is what you want. That way, if the information is leaked, if you do suffer further attacks, protection would already be in place for your family. In short, as a human would say, you are throwing yourself into the line of fire, in hopes of protecting people you cannot even name. Would it not have been more logical to stay hidden and safe?"

A dangerous sort of fire lit in Harry's eyes then. Scorching, angry, hurt.

"And leave my family unprotected while I cower? No. As I have said, they won't come directly for me again. They have tried and failed. They learn fast, but I learn faster. So, now that I am here, the next move would be to attack one of my family. They know it would draw me out and into the open and I won't have a family member attacked because I chose the more logical path."

Again. So, they had come for her. How many times? Had she escaped? Had she been on the run all this time? She could have gathered her accent from shipmates she grew up with. There were too many unanswered questions.

"You seem to care very much for family you have not met. You said you were abducted as an infant? So, you lack ties to these members, and yet, you wish to divert attention to yourself rather then them. Why?"

She exploded, jerking forward in her chair at Sarek's undaunting questions.

"Why? Why?"

Having spotted Amanda as a human, how could she not? Harry turned incredulously towards her.

"Are all Vulcans this detached?"

Before anyone could answer, the young girl was back to aiming her raising ire at Sarek.

"I may not know them, but they have my blood. They made me. They're my family. That's something to fight for, to protect! Where I am from, family means something. Something more than self-survival, logical choices and easy options!"

Harry's hands had slipped to the rim of the table, a crunching grind shattering out as her knuckles bled white and the table gave way under her strength, indenting around her hands. Shocked at the noise, Harry glanced down, hands shaking violently as she sharply pulled them away. She seemed ever so unsettled by her own reaction, eyes blinking frantically. Sarek's voice turned smooth, soft.

"It means a great deal to Vulcans too."

Again, Harry scrubbed at her eyes, this time with the heels of her palms as she balanced her elbows onto the table, sagging. Vulcans felt emotions fiercely, so very, very, deeply. Amanda could attest to that. She was sure it was why many of them chose to follow the path of Surak. It gave them discipline, helped them deal with their tumultuous emotions, to reign in their own tempers and to give them balance in a world and place that was so chaotic. Harry… Harry had none of that. Oh, Amanda could see it now. Rash decisions made on a whim, temper flaring as she had just witnessed, perhaps worse, sorrow so painful she would not speak of it, and Harry had never been taught how to handle those emotions. How to calm herself like only a Vulcan could.

But she would, Amanda realized as she watched Sarek, her husband, her love, who never touched anyone other than herself and son, gently reach over to their shaking daughter and tenderly wrap a hand around her arm, pulling the hand away, careful to avoid skin to skin contact. For a while, he kept the hand there, gentle, coaxing as Harry breathed in deeply through her nostrils.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate… I have had a very long, very hard journey. I just want to make sure that they are going to be safe, that you will protect them should the Romulans follow me. I just want them to be safe."

Amanda could see Sarek's hand tighten.

"I give you my word, they will be safe. However, you must be completely honest with me. Now, do you know why the Romulans abducted you?"

Sarek pulled away and Harry straightened in her chair, but her gaze fell to the floor.

"My mother is human."

Harry did not sound ashamed of the fact, no, she sounded proud, but she was holding something back, debating with herself, unsure whether she could tell them or not. Amanda, well, she could keenly hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, her palms turning slick and clammy.

"Are you suggesting that your abduction is a case of hate crime?"

Was it because of Amanda? Had her daughter been taken from her because of her own race? Romulans hated Vulcans, that was no secret. Humans were not high up on a Romulans opinion either, but their utter distaste for Vulcans had always led Amanda to believe, at least subconsciously, that it had never really been a personal attack, but a message sent out to other Vulcans, a warning. Harry shook her head.

"No. Not at all. Look, I'm sorry… I don't know the full picture. There's things I don't know… It's complicated."

Sarek, in an act that her son, Spock, so often employed, cocked an eyebrow imperiously.

"I am sure I can understand complicated."

Amanda would swear you could see it, almost taste it, that inner war Harry was raging inside of herself when she dropped her gaze once more, nervously rubbing at her knuckles as she seemingly compressed within herself. Sarek, obviously seeing this too, gave Harry time, and only when it appeared that the girl would speak no longer did he go to question further, perhaps to change tactics, when she silently nodded to herself.

"I… Where I was… A long time ago, humans were not always so… Human."

Harry became animated then, the liveliest Amanda had yet to see her be. Her hands glided with her words, like a tide, ebbing and flowing, slinking over her seat, leaning closer, as if proximity would give weight to her words that had taken on a hushed, conspiratorial tone, like she was about to give them the answer to life itself.

"Not human in the terms as most people would know human to be, at least. There was more than one type, long ago. The others, the ones you know, I'm guessing they're pretty much the same as the ones from before. Muggle is what we… They… The other humans called them."

It was as if she was her own star, spinning and shining, pulling, creating a gravitational force that sucked them all in.

"And this other type of human?"

Amanda asked as Harry practically vibrated in her seat.

"They could… There's an energy inside of them. A force that allows their mind to, well, conjure things. Transform things. They were a powerful bunch, but they kept to the shadows in fear, paranoia and more than a heavy dose of prejudice against the other type of humans. Magic is what they called this force and they took the names of witches and wizards. I'm sure you won't find any files about them on your computers or your data padds."

"These witches and wizards, are they still around today?"

"No. Q… A being… No. From what I understand of things, there will be… Has been a war, a war that humans began, something about genetics, that decimated their numbers on both sides. Already having an infinitely smaller population than the 'normal' human, as it were, they would be, are, was nearly extinct after the war. Their kind, given the time that has passed, has bred, for lack of a better term, back into the genetic gene pool, their abilities melting into the DNA mix. Liquidizing. Lost. But the genetic code survived. Fragmented, but still there. Mother nature at its finest. Think of it… It's like a reboot button should they become close to extinction. The code is reabsorbed, redistributed back into the human populace, and once enough time has passed, when the danger has gone, when breeding has allowed the code to reestablish itself enough, to piece itself back together fully, well, witches and wizards begin to be reborn and the cycle begins again. Evolution, for witches and wizards, found a way around that bastard of Darwinism."

Amanda was not the only one to have picked up on her repeated tense switching by the grim line Sarek's mouth had become. Just a twitch, but it was there. As if she had been there herself, had seen it, lived it, breathed it and was now here and couldn't rightly decide whether she was in that time or this one. If what she was saying was true, and Amanda believed at least Harry believed it was by how open and innocent her face was, the twinkle in her eye, what would be the boundaries to such a race of people? Time travel, molecular engineering, atomic displacement, none of it was out of the equation.

"And how do the Romulans fit into this?"

Harry chuckled.

"I told you, my mother is human. Wizards and witches… The energy, their abilities, it's all in the blood. The DN-fucking-A. Written in their genetics. The certain code for this energy and abilities is normally found within the female line. For the genetic code to reestablish itself, it fragments between the two x chromosomes. Only when its whole, does it begin to transfer over to the Y chromosome, allowing wizards to be birthed. However, by then, there will already be witches born because they house the full genetic code to transfer that over to the Y chromosome. In this case, it's not the chicken or the egg, it's the bloody hen that comes first."

Her words were picking up speed, bleeding into one another.

"The code can lay dormant for decades, centuries, and then pop, out comes a witch. No one I know was quite sure why this happened, or does happen, but my own research is solid, and it doesn't change it. It's all in the blood. Seemingly human women, who have seemingly human families, can carry this genetic code, pass it along, and then one day, when the code is complete, hundreds of years later, their descendant can unlock that code. We called them muggleborns… My mother was and is human… A human who carried such a genetic code."

Amanda would not deign to be a geneticist, but to her, the reasoning sounded rigid. Sarek, however, appeared to have picked up on the overarching implication she was trying to make.

"Are you implying you have such abilities as these witches and wizards you speak of?"

Once again, she shrugged, but her grin turned cattish. Sleek.

"I don't imply. I declare it. Don't take my word for it… Just… Don't scream. They took my wand on arrival, but, well, we don't always need wands."

Harry leant back in her chair, spine stiff and as straight as a Ferengi's thirst for riches. Her eyes slid shut and her breaths became shallow and… Nothing happened. Perhaps they should call a doctor, have her checked over, she could have bumped her head and displacement-

Harry's eyes crinkled in concentration and the jug, bowl and towel on the table rattled before flying up into the air, swirling, dancing. The ceiling above them became clouded before dispersing to night… the night sky, stars and asteroids and all. As the jug crumpled in on itself, flaring hotly as it bubbled into a ball that burned yellow and orange. The towel folded and knotted until it too, became something round, with blue oceans and little green marks of land, wet and alive and a real, gods be damned, miniature version of earth. The bowl crushed and shrivelled to grey, rocky as it swerved to the little planet, spinning around and around as they too began to make a dance around the burning little star that had been a jug moments prior.

Then they spun upwards taking their place in the sky, and Amanda took in a jagged breath. Earth, Luna and Sol. Home. Then, as if that wasn't enough already, Amanda's feet left the ground of their own violation. She became weightless, nothing, a feather caught in the wind as she too began to float upwards, gravity broken. It was the first and only time she would ever hear Sarek gasp as he and Spock soon joined her flightless ascent. Soon, they were all amongst the stars.

None of this should be possible. The forcefields were up, dampening every known telekinetic, telepathic, psionic and energetic manipulation. Harry, as was law, had been stripped of all belongings, all technology before being allowed into the room. For the first time, Spock spoke, and even he, so poised and gracefully detached, could not fully conceal the edge and bite of wonder in his voice.

"Atomic manipulation… Actual atomic manipulation… sects of Human's could manipulate atoms… This changes many things."

Then they were gently being brought back down, the night sky, the stars, the asteroids whizzing around the room, the planet and moon and sun, like smoke, faded away, as if it had never been there.

"From what I've been told, they no longer can. I don't know why the gene activated in me, perhaps of the… Alien blood, but, it did and here we are."

Harry's eyes were back to being open, bright, unfazed by what she had just done. How could she seem so calm, so collected, when she had just singlehandedly rewritten all they knew, all the history of the human race itself?

"The Romulans?"

Even Sarek was finding trouble in regaining his composure if he could not elongate the question like he normally did.

"That's where things get murky. I don't know much, but I will tell you what I can. Somehow, someway, the… Romulans as you call them, the ones that took me and chased me, must have discovered some relic or file or something that led them to the discovery of witches and wizards. Those abilities, they are valuable, especially when or if they could replicate them within their own species. I don't know how, as I said, I don't have the full picture, but they tracked my mother's line. Perhaps created some device to find children, descendants capable of their ancestors and well, found me."

Amanda's voice sounded dry, harsh, like the wind on Vulcan.

"They took you to experiment and to replicate your abilities."

Harry nodded.

"Yes, but something went wrong. I was a babe, I don't know what happened, but something went horribly wrong aboard that ship. Something big and large and powerful enough to tear a rift in space and time itself. The ship, it fell… Backwards."

Spock intercepted his father.

"Backwards?"

Harry's gaze grew hazy, pupils large and lost, caught between memory and ghosts. It wasn't a pleasant place to be, not by the haunted shadow that flickered over her eyes.

"Back in time, to the year 1980 to be exact. They crashed on earth, in England. Some died in the crash, others must have survived. I was found in a mangled wreck of metal by a witch and wizard called Lily and James Potter. They took me in, raised me, for a year."

Harriet Potter. She had been raised by humans, as one of them. A long time ago. So far, far away. Had she not known what she was? Did they know that she was not of that world? Amanda could not imagine growing up on Vulcan, before space travel, knowing physically, mentally, she was different, but never knowing why. How. Where she came from. If there was more of her or if she was simply a genetic oddity. Still, a certain word caught her attention.

"Only a year?"

Her smile was a sad, twisted little creature. All bruised blue and aching bone.

"They died. I… The wizarding world was in its own civil war. Many died, but they kept me as safe as they could. They adopted me, some weird, pointy eared, green-blooded baby they found in the woods in a broken metal contraption. They were good people. The best. After the war finished, the surviving Romulans must have spotted a chance to strike when I was least expecting it. They came at me full force. Hunted me down. I didn't know what they were. I didn't even know what I was. Aliens… No one had any idea that they even existed, let alone me being one…"

Seventeen. She was seventeen and was speaking of war and death and running. Worst of all, she wasn't finished.

"They were physically faster, stronger, than my friends. I… I was used to my own strength, my own speed, always three times more than others, and then they came, and they equalled me. They came so fast, so shockingly, with their technology that allowed them to apparate… Teleport, to break through our wards, to kill with a flash with little laser guns and there was no time to… I was forced to run, put into hiding, kept away from others when it was discovered they were after me and me alone. Eventually, they caught up and…"

Even as she spoke, Amanda wished she was wrong, prayed she was wrong, begged to anybody that would listen.

"They captured you."

Harry barricaded herself in, wrapping her arms around her chest, resolutely looking away from anything and anyone.

"It… I… I don't remember much of what they did, but I remember the needles, the iron bars in my spine. I remember screa-"

She violently jerked, as if she had been slapped, pulling away, nose crinkling as she cut herself off with a bite and a snarl at the memory.

"My friends came for me, helped me run, but they always tracked me down. Then a man, a being, an alien called Q came. He told us of what I really was. A… Vulcan. He said I had a family out there, in the future and that I would be safe if I made it back to Vulcan and claimed sanctuary. That my friends would be safe if I left. That the Romulans here could not touch me any longer and the ones back then, without me there, would die. He helped us build a device, one to send me back to where I came from, and here I am. Claiming sanctuary."

Spock, who had wandered in closer from the door, cocked his head to the side. An act that always reminded Amanda of a curious puppy, though she would never tell her son that, should he stop doing it all together.

"If there were other witches and wizards, why did they go for you still and not abduct another which would not see it coming?"

Harry chuckled, but it lacked all warmth, any humour. Frigid and desolate. Lost and alone.

"I honestly don't know. I don't know a lot of things."

Sarek, Amanda could not read him, not as he stood tall and walked around the table, over to Harry.

"You do realize we need evidence of such claims. Evidence further than what you have provided?"

Harry began to fiddle with her knuckles again, a tick Amanda was quickly becoming used to, as she glanced down and saw herself mirroring the girl. She was nervous. As Amanda was when she often did the same thing.

"I understand, but I have nothing but my word and magic. Witches and wizards, they keep little records and the little they kept, they wouldn't allow me to bring with me. In fact, they didn't want me to come at all, it was only my friends that helped me."

Sarek nodded, expecting as such.

"But you have your memories. There is a… Practice amongst our kind called a mind meld. It will allow me access to your memories, to your thoughts, to your feelings. In short, I will see your life, if you allow me access."

Harry became guarded then. That horrid shadow back in her eyes.

"And if I don't?"

Sarek would not be deterred and Amanda wanted to ask him to stop, to stop pushing, to look at what it was doing to their daughter, their daughter who had been through so much already.

"We need evidence of Romulans involvement and the claims you have made."

And then it all made sense. Yet again, you simply had to read between the lines. Sarek was not doubting Harry, no. He was out for blood, in an all too Vulcan fashion. He was going for the Romulans. He needed evidence, her memories through a mind meld being just that, indisputable, to take to the board of external affairs and the department of security. Then, with the situation unarguable, he could move against those who had moved against their daughter. Harry, though, did not understand, had never been around Vulcans before and could only hazard a guess of what Sarek wanted her memories for.

"It's not a pretty place. It's dark in there. My magic might make it even impossible to do."

Anew, Sarek's tone turned into a soft velvet Amanda had not heard since Harry herself was a babe, nestled in his arms, as he whispered to her about the stars, huddled on their balcony. It brought a flush of love and warmth through her, to know that voice was still there, that it had not died when Harry had been lost.

"You will not journey it alone and we need only try once."

Harry was still hesitant, but Amanda could see the cracks beginning to form in her argument.

"Will this grant me sanctuary?"

Sarek placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"You are a Vulcan, one of us, this planet is your home, you do not need to claim sanctuary. This act will only allow us to solidify your claims and to prosecute those perpetrators once uncovered. For they will be uncovered. Furthermore, if what you have stated is fact, perhaps there are others like you, others who need protection from Romulans. Protection we can only offer if we can make a strong case."

Harry gently shirked off his hand, cracked her neck as if she was going into a long fight, and stood tall, nodding jarringly. Once more, Amanda did not miss the fact that it was the mention of others possibly being in danger that got Harry to bend in the end.

"Others? Then do it."

Sarek's hand lifted, one finger stationed above Harry's right eye, over her scar, one below and the last ghosting along her jawline. She flinched for a moment but stood composed. There was a ripple in the air, something oppressive, heavy, settling on Amanda's chest and head, like an oncoming migraine. Sarek, as much as any Vulcan could, became alarmed.

"Don't push outwards!"

It was the wrong thing to say as Harry frowned and became alarmed herself, reacting in the opposite to the demand, the dense feeling in the air swirling as it sucked and pulled back into her, everything, from the replicator to the window crackling as the room felt like it was being pulled through a very fine point, condensed, compressed. Amanda lost something, everything, form and thought as the world around her became black and oily. Nowhere, nothing, never. She couldn't see, couldn't think, but she could feel.

She could feel Spock there, somewhere, Sarek too, and in the middle of this black mass, this bottomless void, she could feel her daughter, Harry, terrified and alone and lost. And then, like a supernova, it burst into life and Amanda was there, Spock and Sarek too, in her mind, in her memories. Them but not them. Being Harry, but not Harry. Her memories theirs, but not. Watching and living. All at once, everything and outsider.

There was a woman's scream, howling, as a flash of green blinded her.

Pop.

Aunt Petunia was at the stairs again, holding the cupboard door open, tapping her foot, red-faced and bird like. Uncle Vernon was dragging a seven-year-old Harry into the dark hole, by the scruff of her neck, huffing and puffing and she could smell his sweat, foul and rank. The vulture and the walrus.

"What did I say about going outside girl! You stay in your cupboard! That's the rule! You stay there and you be silent and bloody thankful we don't sell you off! You just wait until tomorrow! I'll deal with you then."

He threw her then, her knees scraping across the floor, skin breaking as she skidded into that place she hated so much. It was just another cut to Harry, just another bruise. It was the cupboard she hated. It was dark and dank and smelled of mould. The door to the cupboard was slammed shut behind her, the sound of the lock bringing tears to her eyes. She didn't dare move until she heard the sound of their steps retreating back upstairs, to their bedrooms. At least this time, she had not gotten a beating. Perhaps because it was late and Vernon had work in the morning. But still, even if the beating came tomorrow, it was worth her little midnight adventure out to the garden. Sniffling, Harry delved a hand into her tatty trousers back pocket, plucking out her stolen goods. A glow in the dark marker. She had nabbed it earlier, when Dudley wasn't looking.

Standing up, although even at seven, she could not stand fully if she did not wish to bump her head in the boxed cupboard, she uncapped the marker and set to work. Orion, Carina, Hydra, Lepus. One by one, she diligently dotted out the constellations she had been learning onto the ceiling of her cupboard.

When she was done, she capped the marker once more, hid it under her broken cot and sank back down onto the floor, looking up to the stars, wonky as they were, that glowed in the darkness. They could take her food. They could beat her. They could lock her away for days and pretend she didn't exist. They could call her freak and creature and goblin and bastard. They could do all this and more, but they could never, never take the stars from her. They didn't belong to anyone. They couldn't be wrangled into a cupboard. They didn't bleed or bruise or break. They didn't feel any pain. They were free. Alive. Bright. Out there, in the sky, where Harry wished to be, flying and spinning and dancing.

No one could ever take the stars from her.

Pop.

Harry's jaw and shoulder ached. The letters, the ones carried by the owls, they would not stop coming and Uncle Vernon was sure it was her that was the culprit. It wasn't. She didn't know why they came, who knew her, she wasn't allowed out most of the time, she wasn't allowed friends, although she had trouble making them anyway, and she sure as hell didn't know what this Hogwarts was. Still, they came, Harry took the brunt of her aunt and uncles anger and soon, was being whisked away to a cabin on a craggy island in the middle of the ocean. Then the giant man came. He was big and grizzly with a huge belly and beard and he scared even uncle Vernon and gave Dudley a pigs tail that made him oink. He gave her cake, a real present, her first ever gift and he smiled. He smiled at her and Harry nearly cried.

"You're a witch Harry."

Pop.

The Girl-Who-Lived. That's what they called her. Her parents didn't die in a car crash, a madman, a monster killed them, all because of her. No one had pointy ears. No one flushed green. Still odd. Still a freak. Something wrong. Prophecy, magic, dungeons and giant dogs. Hermione and Ron, her first friends. Flying on a broom, giant chess, the philosophers stone… The monster on the back of the mans head. Her parent's murderer, the burning of her scar.

"The truth."

Dumbledore sighed.

"It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."

Pop.

Back to Hogwarts, not home, but closest she will ever get. Malfoy. Ginny. Knockturn alley. Flying Mr. Weasley's car. Whomping willow. Whispers. Everywhere whispers. Hissing. Going mad. Diary. Tom. Friend. But not friend. Never friend… Horcrux. Voldemort. Murderer! Ginny dying, basilisk, chamber of secrets, pain in her arm. Dying. Pheonix.

"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Pop.

Aunt Marge ballooning, flying away. Run away. The knight bus, leaky cauldron. Ron, Hermione… Sirius black escaped. Sold out her parents. Coming for her. Dementors. Fear. Falling from her broomstick. Lupin. Werewolf. Snape. Forbidden forest. Shrieking shack. No. Pettigrew. Sirius innocent. Godfather. Family… She has family! He has to run. Hide. Ministry after him. Alone again. But she still has her stars.

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."

Pop.

The goblet, her name. Veela's, mermaids, swimming, flying, dragon's breath scorching her skin. The skull in the sky, snake slithering out. Dark mark. Voldemort. Cedric. Maze. Running. Pinned. Monster. Touching her, taking her blood. Whole again. Fear. Undiluted fear. Still, fight. Cedric dead. Crying. Portkey.

"It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."

Pop.

Voldemort rising. Ministry doing nothing. Muggleborns dying. War… War coming. Sirius's death. Pain. So much pain. Alone again. No family. Freak. Stars mean nothing. The ministry. Dumbledore. People, Dumbledore, telling her to be strong. To fight. No. Finished.

"I DON'T CARE!"

Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"

"You do care."

Said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached.

"You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

Sobbing.

Pop.

Snape. Bastard. Invading her mind. Taunting her. Belittling her. Voldemort getting more powerful. No one can be trusted. Ministry infiltrated. Deatheaters everywhere. All on her. She has to stop him. She has to save them. Too young. Too weak. Fifteen… Only fifteen. How? No. Has to. Her job. Must protect them. Stop the war. Stop the bloodshed. Draco and his cupboard. Dumbledore's death. Order of the phoenix scattered. Snape… Traitor! Run. Run. Failed! Failed! Dear Merlin. Her fault. Her fault! Should… Can't win. Run. Flee. Hogwarts lost.

"We'll be there, Harry,"

Said Ron.

"What?"

Harry asked incredulously.

"At your Aunt and Uncle's house, and then we'll go with you wherever you're going."

"No-"

Said Harry quickly; she hadn't counted on this, she had meant them to understand that she was undertaking the most dangerous journey alone.

"You said it once before…"

said Hermione quickly.

"that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we? We're with you whatever happens."

Pop.

Running. Hiding. Horcruxes, find them, destroy them, destroy Voldemort. Breaking into Gringotts. Camping. Arguments. Ron leaving. Malfoy manor. Hermione screaming. Locked in a cage. Stuck. Can't help. Useless. She was useless. Dobby! Freedom… No… No… No! Dying, holding him.

"What a beautiful place to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friend... Harry Potter..."

Pop.

Remus. Gone. Tonks. Gone. Fred. Gone. So many. Too many. Her fault.

"We're all human, aren't we? Every life is worth the same, and worth saving."

Pop.

Makes sense. Born to die. Freak. Alone. Always meant to die… Horcrux. She's a Horcrux.

"I'm going to keep going until I succeed — or die. Don't think I don't know how this must end. I've known it for years."

Pop.

Peaceful. Scared, but peaceful. Resurrection stone cold in her hand.

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question had escaped Harry's lips before she could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all."

Said Sirius.

"Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

Stone dropped. Taunting. Harry smiles. It's time. Sleep. She is so very tired. She never raises her wand. A Flash of green.

Pop.

White station. That… Thing, grotesque, inside her, now out, dying, shrivelling. Dumbledore.

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

Pop.

Breathing again. Fighting. Voldemort. Taunting, but she's stronger. He may have power. He may have knowledge… But she has love. Love wins. She knows that now. Soon, he does too, as he floats away in a pile of ash. Done… Won… Over.

Pop.

True peace, for a few months. Can't shake it. Something in the air. Feeling of being watched. Out for a walk, clearing head… Jumped. Strong. Fast. Ridged foreheads, tattoos… Like her, bleed green… Is she one of them? What are they? Managed to run. Get to friends. Tell them. Tests. Wrong blood. Not human. Not human at all. Something different… Alien…

Pop.

Safe houses don't work. Somehow tracking her. Too dangerous to stay close to friends. Hermione and Ron won't listen. Never listen.

"Stop playing the Martyr Harry. Where here, end of. You couldn't shake us off all those years ago, you aren't going to do it now… Alien blood or not."

Pop.

Captured. Somewhere dark. Torture. Pain. Something metal, thick jammed into her spine, sucking, dizzy, screaming until she could scream no more. They only smile, they only stick more rods in. Ron's face… They came for her… They came.

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Q. Intergalactic being. Offer of family. She has some… Real ones. Out there… All she ever wanted, right there, In the stars she loved so much... But she will have to abandon all she has ever known… All those she loves… Romulans attack again, can't stay, can't bring herself to say goodbye. They urge her to go. To leave and she does… she does.

"Those you love never really leave you, Harry."

Pop.

Cryopod, dizzy, running. Flying. Stepping foot on Vulcan. Hot. Warm, for the first time in her life, warm, not cold. The buildings, the sand, the air, wonder, not watching where she is going. No one tells her where the embassy is… Sees human, looking peaky, no one doing anything… Help her. Smile. Pleasant face, warm eyes, soft heart. Good person. Harry can tell. Harry wanders if her family is kind. Has warm eyes and soft hearts. Hopes so… Hopes so.

Pop.

Found human embassy! Gave statement. Led to private room… People showing no emotions. Blank. Stern looking. Unforgiving. Worried. Put in room. Told to wait. Something happening. No one leaving, no one entering, see it from her window… Run. No. No more running. Door opens. Two men…Vulcans… A woman… Human… Kind woman!

THUD!

Amanda crashed back into herself, feeling empty, lost, muddled. Everything she had saw… Seventeen years' worth of memories… The pain, the loss, the death and destruction… The monster with a snake's face. Her baby… Her baby's death… She was weeping, sobbing, she couldn't stop. Spock fumbled by the door, leaning against the wall, breath sharp. Sarek braced himself against the table, eyes hooded, something wet glistening there. And then there was a voice, innocent, broken, but wishful.

"Mum?"

Amanda stubbornly blinked away her tears, gaze locking onto a pale faced Harry, her nose and mouth bloody, green blood dripping down her chin… The mind meld… It was a two-way shuttle lane. Only, T'Harauk had not simply melded with Sarek, somehow, most likely due to this energy inside of her, this magic, she had pulled both Spock and Amanda in too. That sort of pressure-

Harry collapsed, flopping to the floor as her chest heaved. Amanda launched herself at her, falling to her knees, scrambling to pick her up, to heave Harry onto her lap as violent tremors shook her body. Sarek was already shouting for a doctor before falling to the floor besides them, Spock dashing out of the room to find anybody to help.

"I'm home… I made it home…"

Harry spluttered as more foamed blood bubbled forth, smiling as her eyes glazed and she stilled. She wasn't breathing. No! It was happening all over again, she was on T'Paal canyon, holding her daughter only to lose her once more, to have her snatched from her grasp.

"No! T'Harauk! Come back! Hold on! Sarek! Please… T'Harauk!"

The sound of rushing footsteps bombarding into the room fell muted compared to Amanda's agonizing cries.

There it is, chapter three, and with it, my return to fanfic writing after a year or so gone. So, please, be gentle. It's a bit like riding a bike, you don't forget how, but the first ride is always a bit bumpy lol.

Next chapter- we have some solid Spock and Harry interaction. I know he has taken a back seat so far… But not any longer.

I hope you all enjoyed this, and if you can, leave a review!