A/N 6.2011: After re-reading this nine years later, I find myself gagging. I remember (vaguely) where I was heading with this, and wish to challenge myself to fix this travesty. Names have now been changed to protect the innocent. Including poor Jessica. I'm sorry old friend, I shouldn't have borrowed your name without asking.
This takes place the summer before OotP, as it fits better with Linda's timeline. Previously, it would have been just before PoA, and it didn't really work out too well.
shuntbumps, thank you for your honest criticism. However, it would have been more useful if you had included tips on improving my writing. I was twelve.
Lastly, this is still unbetaed. If anyone wants to take up that role, feel free to contact me.
A/N 7.2002: This is my first Harry Potter fic, so if you flame please note that I will take ALL of them too literally. I would like to thank my muse Red Dragon Order for the wonderful idea. I DO NOT OWN ANY PLACE (the house mentioned in the beginning belongs to my mom) OR PEOPLE (except Jessie T. Paterson). Here's a good rule of thumb, IF IT LOOKS FAMILIAR THEN I DON'T OWN IT. Now that I've finished my rant you can read, go on open your eyes and read.
Belinda Elowen O'Shay seemed a normal girl on the outside. She had slightly longer than shoulder length medium brown hair, and soft blue eyes. Pasty white skin proved that she rarely went outside, though she was pinking up quite rapidly. The desert sun drew beads of sweat to her brow, and she dashed them away. It was only eight in the morning, but it was already hot enough to cook breakfast on the pavement. She had come out here, years ago, to help her uncle. He was a scientist of some variety researching reptiles of the deserts of the world. Linda's mother had given her over to him to keep her out of the way while they trained her younger sister to be some sort of hot-shot singer. Linda knew she wasn't gifted like the rest of her family, and that she didn't know what to do with her life, but it hurt that she was shunted from relative to relative until Uncle George. He took a shine to her when she was dumped on him in the middle of summer eight years ago. She had gotten lost in the desert for a week and returned sick and hallucinating.
Uncle George was often gone for weeks at a time studying the habits of this snake or that lizard, so Linda kept the place clean and picked up the mail. Today, she was outside pulling weeds by hand. In the gravel that passed for landscaping, it was often easier and quicker to use a rake for this job, but Linda found that pulling them out by the roots kept them at bay longer. There was some jerk that drove around the neighborhood and called the city on anyone who didn't keep their house to his exacting standards. While she was in school, it was rather dificult to keep up with the Blight Notices posted on the door as well as her homework. It was strenuous work, especially since it had rained the week before. Unfortunately for Linda, she had been studying for finals and was just getting to the yard work now. The weeds were almost as tall as a small toddler!
"Hey, stupid!" called out a male voice.
Linda glanced up. It was Berk, or as Linda mentally refered to him, Berk-the-Jerk. He had made it his mission to torment her since middle school, doing everythink from stabbing her with sharpened pencils to throwing rocks at her. She shook her head and turned back to her work. It had been years since she actually said anything to anyone about him, or even to him. In fact, Linda didn't speak much to anyone but her uncle and herself.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you, tard." he shouted.
Something flicked in the corner of her eye, and she saw him light a bit of paper. He tossed it at her and Linda tried to scream. It came out more of a squeak, though. Being surrounded by dead, dried plants and flames... She jumped on the rock, putting the fire out with her bare hands. It burned, but so would catching on fire herself.
The boy tossed another flaming rock at her. His aim was true, and it dropped to the ground. This was the first time he had used such a trick, but she doubted it would be the last, seeing as her shirt didn't flame up like she expected. Linda stomped until the flames were out. Not for the first time, she wished her imaginary dragon friend was there to help her.
She tensed, somehow sensing that someone else was approaching.
"Ah, my little rat." said a new voice. Linda had heard of him, but never met this particular nasty before. He was spending the summer with family on the preserve her uncle worked on. Supposedly, he was something Nott. Word on the street said he was particularly vicious, and even some of her usual tormentors backed away from him. "I hope you have been shown this bint a nice time."
No witty remarks came to mind as she sat before her chief tormentor and his cohort. She usually couldn't think on the fly, anyway. Linda knew that if she wasn't burned already, her skin would have gone a deathly pale. Something in this Nott's eyes told her she would be killed if he had his way.
"Rather nice idea." Nott smirked, nodding at the paper-wrapped rocks.
Burk mumbled some sorm of thanks, obviously pleased. Linda straightened up, screwing her courage to the sticking place as she let her fingers trail over her dragon medalion. It had been a gift from Uncle George, since she lost Sigurd the imaginary dragon. It reminded her of the fun things she used to do, before Berk moved in down the street. Like her karate lessons. Those had stopped after two years, when Uncle Geroge's pay had been cut, but she still remembered a few things.
Harry Potter was on holiday with the Dursley's. They still didn't trust him in the house alone, so when Uncle Vernon went to visit his friend Roland O'Shay, Harry was allowed to come along. They were out to lunch with this Roland guy, and Harry was left to his own devices. Of course, they kicked him out of the hotel room and told him not to be back before dark. Of course, it had gotten dark pretty quickly, even though it was only a little past noon. There were large, heavy rainclouds obscuring the sky. It was hot, muggy, and Harry realized he was lost. As if he needed more problems. The sky seemed to take Harry's off-handed thought personally, and started to rain.
Harry was used to rain. In England it rained quite a bit, to put it mildly. It never rained like this, though. It started out gentle, but soon became a harsh, driving rain. Before he knew it, the water was over the tops of his trainers.
"Well, if it isn't a drowned rat." called Theodore Nott. "I don't really have time to play now."
Harry really couldn't hear the Slytherin well over the pounding rain, but he could see the crumpled form lying on the ground. For one horrible, gut-wrenching second, Harry thought it was Cedric again. Theodore was gone before Harry could gather his wits again. The pathetic lump pushed itself up, and looked at Harry with her one good eye. She beckoned him closer, and Harry ran to see if he could help.
"Thanks." she said, her voice deep and scratchy. It sounded like it didn't get a lot of use. "Could you help me get inside?"
"Sure." Harry replied, and helped the girl stand.
"Miss?" Harry asked, hoping she was coherent enough to answer him with clarity. "Where do you live, miss?"
She looked up at him dully.
"Here." She replied. "Door's unlocked."
She let Harry hold her weight and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. It wasn't far or hard to reach, but she had been beaten up pretty badly and was having trouble focusing.
"Welcome. Come inside." Linda had been drilled in good manners since she was a baby. Her mother still thought she was clumsy and rude, though. "Excuse the mess, please, we haven't been keeping up with our house cleaning. Here, sit down. Would you like something to drink or eat?"
"Um," Harry said, "Are you sure you should be up?"
"Does it matter?" she asked. "Sorry. That was rude of me."
Harry looked around, amused at what this girl called a mess. The bookshelves were a little tatty, and had notebooks standing alongside large tomes with bits of paper sticking out. The sofa was, indeed, messy, though. It was covered in books and notes, and a little black and white cat slept peacefully on top of it all. The dining table was just as bad, and the girl sat heavily on one of the matching chairs.
"I don't suppose you know how to check for a concussion?" she asked. Harry noticed that she was intentionally pitching her voice into a lower register.
"No."
"Ah, well. I guess I'll just take precautions. I'm Lind, by the way. Or Linda if you prefer. Belinda O'Shay." she introduced herself.
"I'm Harry Potter." he replied with a bit of trepidation. He wasn't sure if this Linda was a witch or not.
"Nice ta meetcha." she said in an off-handed way that gave Harry the impression she didn't recognise his name. "Now, are you hungry at all? I make a great tuna sandwich."
About the Names: I have taken to researching name meanings, and (true to Harry Potter standards) have named the characters accordingly. However, since Uncle George and George Weasley share a name, I figured I'd share my reasoning.
This story has a lot to do with dragons, so I was influenced by the tale of St. George and the Dragon. Which should be fairly obvious. Secondly, George is a derivative of a Greek word for 'earth worker' or 'farmer'. I'll get into it in later chapters, but it really does tie in to his occupation.
About blight notices: In the neighborhood I grew up in, we DID have a guy who would do this to us fairly frequently. Anything growing in our yard aside from the old pine tree he called 'weeds' and would complain to the city. I am not making this up, though I wish I were.
About Phoenix thunderstorms: Yes, they are that bad. They have often been described as a Huston hurricane in thirty minutes. There is a lot of lightening, and the streets flood. The first year I lived there, we saw a man paddling a canoe down the road. This is mostly due to poor irrigation. The land is so dry that when it does rain, the water just slides off the top layer of soil and keeps heading downhill.
