Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the "Harry Potter" series. They are copyrighted to J.K.
Rowling, starting in 1997 through 2003-2004. I thank Ms. Rowling for allowing pathetic,
unemployed wretches like me mangle her work of art. I do however, own Sarah Madison Potter.
She is my own creation... I thinks... Please don't use her without my permission.
Sarah Year 1, Chapter 2: Shoulders to cry on and Welcome to Diagon Alley
"You will be escorting her to Diagon Alley tomorrow, then?"
"Yes, Headmaster. I will explain everything to her aunt and uncle, and then we will pick up her supplies."
"Good, Geoffrey. I will see you tomorrow, then."
"Good night, Headmaster."
"Good night."
As Sarah slouched downstairs after a restless night, she thought about the letter from yesterday. The letter said that they were "expecting her owl by July 31st." What exactly did that mean? Were owls hyper-intelligent, actually ruled the world, and were using the Earth as a giant computer? Nah, probably not.
Mrs. Dursley looked up as Sarah shuffled into the kitchen. "Well, good morning, dear. It's about six hours earlier than you usually get up. Even Dudley is still asleep."
With a grunt, Sarah glanced at the clock on the microwave, seeing that it was only about 6:30. She flopped down in her usual chair at the kitchen table. "'Morning..." She muttered, hoping the usual morning question was incoming.
"What would you like to drink?" Petunia asked, rummaging around in the cupboard for a mug.
"What else? Something hot, strong, and high in caffeine..."
Petunia sighed as she looked at her adopted daughter. "How about some green tea? With sugar"
"Mom, I slept maybe four hours last night, if that. If I have to have tea, make it Earl Grey, with plenty of honey."
Petunia nodded at the pre-teen in approval. While Earl Grey had more caffeine than she wanted her kids to have, it was still better than coffee, especially with the honey in it. She puttered around the kitchen, putting water on in the pot to boil. As she finished up, she turned around and sat across from her daughter.
"Well, did you want to talk about it?"
"'Bout what?" Sarah asked, obviously uncomfortable. She wiggled in the chair, trying not to seem too apprehensive.
"Your mum and dad, the fact that they're dead, perhaps how your mother and I got along. Anything."
Sarah looked at her adoptive mother, and Petunia could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Everything about Sarah, she knew, could be read in her eyes. They were like windows into her soul, great emerald portals into a world of raw emotion. Now, those gemstones were reflecting sadness, anger, confusion, and a great, overwhelming pain at the shattering of her life's sturdy base.
Petunia stood, walked around the table, and knelt next to Sarah. She put a hand on the raven-haired girl's shoulder. At this gentle touch, Sarah's lips wavered and then she slowly, quietly, began to cry.
As she sat there, her mother's sister kneeling next to her, she began to pour out her emotions. She told Petunia of how she didn't understand why her parents had to die, that she was torn wether to go to Hogwarts or stay, that she was worried that she didn't know any magic whatsoever. She told her that she was worried that people wouldn't accept her, that they would shun her as they had before she and Dudley had met Alex and Jen. All of these, and more the eleven year old confided in her "mother."
Once Sarah had stopped talking, and only sniffed once in a while, Petunia slowly started talking. "Honey, don't worry. They'll accept you. Just act yourself, and don't put up masks. Let them see the real you and they'll discard any misconceptions of you they might have. As for your parents, well, if I knew your mother, she wouldn't have let some puffed-up fool of a supposed Dark Lord hurt people. That just wasn't her. Your father wouldn't have let her do anything crazy; not without following her to make sure she was okay. "
Sarah grinned through her tears. "Are you sure? You really think it'll be okay?"
"Of course, dear. Now scoot upstairs and get cleaned up. If I remember correctly, they came and took Lily to Diagon Alley the day after she got her letter." Sarah started to protest, but was cut off. "I'll keep your tea warm. Scoot"
Sarah's grin stretched almost ear to ear, and she gave Petunia one last hard hug before scampering upstairs to shower. As Sarah ran away, Petunia stood and turned back to the stove.There she turned the burner down, and sat at the table again. She slowly smiled at the enthusiasm that Sarah had shown after being reassured. She would be fine.
Upstairs, Sarah was soothing her nerves with a hot shower. As the hot water ran through her hair and down her body, she thought about what her mother had said, that they would accept her if she acted like herself. But what about the first time she had acted like herself, in first grade? She had gone ahead in the book and done some higher level math problems, and the teacher had the gall to suggest that she had looked in the back. That she had cheated by looking in the selected answers section. Her eyes had flashed, and his hair suddenly was spiked up and green. Everyone knew that she had somehow done it, and they all shunned and ridiculed her, all except Alex and Jen...
A six year old Sarah Potter sat on the front steps of Stonewall Primary School, trying not to cry at the meanness of her classmates. Ever since a week ago, when she had turned her teacher's hair green, they had taunted her, and called her a freak. As she sat there, several of her classmates walked up to her, grinning.
"Hey, freak!" One of them, obviously the leader, shouted. Sarah ignored him. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" the bully shouted again.
"Hey, man, mebbe she can't talk!" one of the two smaller boys said, grinning.
Sarah shot a hard glare at the group, then put her head down again. "Leave me alone," she muttered.
The bigger boy laughed at her. "No, I dun think so. We're gonna make you hurt."
The boys fell upon her in a flurry of fists and feet. Sarah fought back, biting one of them,
and kicking another in the stomach. As the bullies backed off to regain their wind, a small rock
about the size of a thumbtack flew through the air from somewhere behind them. It hit the
biggest one on the back of the head.
"Oi!" shouted a small voice, probably the same person who threw the rock. "Leave her alone. Why don't you pick on someone stupider than you, tapioca-for-brains?"
The thugs turned around, ready to fight. Before them stood a boy, about their age, wearing a pair of ragged jeans, and an orange t-shirt.
"And why should we?" asked the smallest of the three.
The kid grinned ferociously. "Because Miz Wormwood is right behind you."
The art teacher, a woman of about fifty, with greying hair and a temper known throughout the school, helped Sarah up as she glared at the bullies. "Messrs. Gallagher, Barton and Cunningham, please follow me. I'm sure the principal would like to see you three." She grabbed all three by the scruffs of their necks and dragged them off, wincing and howling the whole way.
Sarah gave a start as a hand was thrust in front of her face. The boy was grinning at her as he held it out.
"Hi! I'm Alex. You're Sarah Potter, right? The one who turned that prat Edwards hair green?"
"Yes..." Sarah said slowly, unsure what to make of him, with his chestnut brown hair and engaging openness. Luckily, she was spared an immediate decision by a shout from the steps.
"Alex! Did Miz W. get them?" A girl of Sarah's age, with a thin face, and shoulder-length dirty blonde hair was bounding toward them at top speed.
Alex waved at her. They obviously knew each other. "Yeah! It was great! Scruffs of their necks and everything." He turned back to Sarah. "This is Jen, short for Jennifer."
The girl reached them and smacked him over the head. "Prat! No full first names!"
"Ow... Okay, okay..."
Jen laughed at the pout plastered on his face. "Well, the whiner here is Alex, and I'm Jen. Wanna be friends?"
Slowly, Sarah nodded. "Sure. Why not?"
Ah, what days those had been. That had been the start of her pranking bullies. Alex and Jen had truly changed her for the better.
As she stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, she heard the sound of the doorbell echo through the house. She frowned. Who would visit the house this early? It was only seven, after all. Perhaps it was someone from that school.
She stepped into her room and shut the door quietly. No point in waking Dudley up early.
She strode across the room to the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and jeans, quickly throwing
them on, then flopping down on her bed to think.
"Sarah, could you come downstairs?" Aunt Petunia called up the staircase. Sarah groaned and rolled off the bed. No rest for the weary and emotionally confused.
Aunt Petunia turned away from the stairway, back toward the strangely dressed man sitting in her living room. "Professor... McGonagall, was it?" she asked the robe-clad redhead. He nodded a curt affirmative.
"You're here to pick up Sarah to take her to Diagon Alley, correct?"
The cat Animagus' eyes widened in surprise. "How...!"
Petunia grinned rather uncharacteristically. "Lily was my sister, remember? I went with her when she got picked up. Made me wish that I had gotten in as well."
McGonagall nodded. "I see. Where is Miss Potter?" Just as he finished speaking, Sarah came crashing down the stairs, tripping over a piece of carpet, and falling on her face. If this had been an anime, McGonagall would have had a big sweatdrop running down the back of his head.
McGonagall coughed nervously. "Ahem... Miss Potter, I'm here to escort you to Diagon Alley so you can pick up your school supplies."
Sarah groaned as she picked herself up off the floor. "Really? Sounds fun. When do we start?"
McGonagall, not used to muggle humor, answered with a bit of a Look. "As soon as you are ready. Now, perhaps"
"Yeah, sure. Just let me get my player," Sarah said before running back upstairs,
McGonagall looking at her like she was nuts, which was a distinct possibility.
"What is that child on!"
Petunia laughed at McGonagall's question, writing a note to Vernon and Dudley. "Nothing, to be honest. She's just... Sarah."
McGonagall nodded, not really understanding. "What did she mean by 'her player'?"
"Her CD player. She never goes on the underground without it, because of the noise. We are going on the underground, I assume?"
He nodded again, obviously wanting to ask more, but was stopped by Sarah pelting down the staircase and jumping the last two steps, CD player and jacket in tow.
"I'm ready! Let's go!"
As the noisy subway shot towards London, McGonagall and Petunia talked about Lily, James, and their escapades at school, while Sarah listened to her music.
F-f-f-falling!
Down with the sun!
The night is calling me like a drum!
I keep on f-f-falling...
"...so then Lily dumped a goblet of pumpkin juice on his head and said..."
I don't go to school every monday
I've got my reason to sleep
Don't you tell me how I should be...
"...really? I always thought she despised him. At least that's what she always said..."
My life is so full of temptation,
and I want to keep it that way
I know myself, I can handle the game...
"...oh, it was, but in their seventh year, my first as Head of Gryffindor House, he stopped hexing everyone who looked at him wrong, and acted more like the James she wanted..."
I need a light, I need a spark,
don't be afraid to open my heart...
"'IGH STREET STATION! ALL PASSENGERS CONNECTING TO THE EDINBURGH TRAIN GET OFF HERE!"
McGonagall stood up. "This is our stop. Come on."
Sarah and Petunia stood up and followed the now jean-clad wizard off the train. He had transfigured his robes into muggle clothing before they had left.
As they walked, they chatted about what Sarah would learn at Hogwarts ("Potions and Charms... imagine the pranks), the four houses (''Really? Two of them are rivals? Cool!''), and a bit about the main wizarding sport, Quidditch (''It's on brooms? Isn't that... dangerous?'').
McGonagall looked up and started in surprise. "Bugger. We passed it." He pointed at a small pub, The Leaky Cauldron, a good ways behind them.
Sarah looked at it sceptically. "Are you sure, Professor?" The small place didn't look much like a place where magic could happen.
McGonagall had the presence of mind to look a bit embarassed. "I told Tom that he needed to clean up the front. Not much of a first impression, is it"
Sarah shook her head. The place looked like it had been bombed, rebuilt by monkeys, bulldozed, then rebuilt by someone without depth perception. And that was being nice!
"Ah, well, come on," McGonagall sighed. "You'll want to get home before lunch."
He guided them over to the door, above which hung a wood-carved sign proclaiming 'The Leaky Cauldron, est. 1675'.
Inside was a well lit, but dingy room, on one side of which was a bar. On the other side of the room was a dining area, obviously for people with children too young to sit at the bar, or large groups, like the redheaded one sitting at a table.
The mother, a short plump woman in her forties, was berating two of her sons, twins
from their identical looks, for a prank they had pulled on their older brother, a stuffy,
bespectacled boy of about fifteen.
"Fred, I know you placed that firework in your brother's trunk!"
The twin scoffed. "God, woman, can't you tell your own sons apart? I'm George!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, George."
"Just kidding, mum. I'm Fred!"
The twins younger brothers and sister roared with laughter as the mother scowled at the twins. Fred, casting around for a distraction, noticed McGonagall.
"Oi, Professor! What are you doing here? Come and have a drink!"
McGonagall grinned at Fred's antics, but said, "Sorry, Mr. Weasley. Hogwarts business. I'm helping Sarah here get her school supplies."
At these words, the whole pub fell silent for a few seconds, before exploding into sound and motion.
"Bless me soul," said the old bartender, "Sarah Potter... I am honored."
A little wizard in a top hat and purple cloak took her hand and pumped it up and down furiously. "Daedelus Diggle, Miss Potter. Pleased to meet you.
Others swarmed around her, clamoring for her attention.
"Doris Crockford, Miss Potter, can't believe I'm finally meeting you."
"Always wanted to meet you, Miss Potter. Wanted to for ages."
"So proud, Miss Potter, just so proud."
Sarah was kept shaking hands for almost ten minutes - one of the younger Weasleys, a boy about her age, kept coming back for more.
A pale young man wearing a purple turban came forward, rather nervously in Sarah's eyes.
"Ah! Professor Quirrell!" McGonagall said. "Sarah, Professor Quirrell will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."
"N-not that you'll n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" Quirrell laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting your equipment, I suppose. I must p-pick up a b-book on Dark Creatures, s-see if it'll be g-good for the t-third year curriculum."
As Quirrell picked his way through the crowd, McGonagall tried to lead Sarah and Petunia through the crowd, saying, "We must be going - much to buy. Come on, you two."
McGonagall let the two out of the bar, and into a small, walled courtyard. Nothing was there but a few weeds, a trash can, and a black and orange calico cat slinking into the darkness between The Leaky Cauldron and the next door building.
"Was he okay?" Sarah asked McGonagall as he counted bricks on the wall.
"Oh, yes. He's always like that. Brilliant chap. He was fine while he was doing his book learning, but then he took a year off to get first-hand experience. I don't want to spread gossip about my fellow professors, but they say that he met vampires in the Black Forest, and a bit of nasty business with a hag. Hasn't been the same since. Scared of the students, even harmless first years, scared of the whole subject of DADA." he finished, whipping out his wand.
"DADA?" Sarah asked, a bit confused at the mini-lecture.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Oh..."
McGonagall turned back to the wall, his wand raised. "Let me see," he muttered. "Three up, and two 'cross."
He tapped a brick with the point of his wand. The brick wiggled, and the bricks around it moved in clunking wave, the tapped brick becoming the keystone in an arch inscribed with swirly, golden squiggles.
Beyond the arch, Sarah could see shops, filled with happy people, shopping for whatever they might need.
"Welcome, Sarah," McGonagall said, "to Diagon Alley."
A/N: Whew... Finally got it done. Over half of this was hen-pecked out on the on-screen keyboard of my new Palm. Gotta love technology. Also, I'm sorry for the lateness. RL took over. Enough excuses. On to review responses!
Tiamante Salazar Tameran, now known as Lady Azar de Tameran: Gotta love the Gryffs. On the Blaise subject, she (or he, depending on how I feel at the moment I have Sarah and Blaise meet) won't even really meet the Gryff Four until second year. /thinks about delicious plot twists/ mmm... buttery...
Shadowface: Hmmm... Dumbledore, huh/thinks/ She'll think he's nuts.
Kitty (anon): I know you said update soon. Sorry for the wait... ;;
Talons: Don't worry, I don't intend to. And Sarah isn't really a female Harry. She's his twin.
/forgives Talons if he/she missed that bit/
Silver-Entrantress-Elf: I'm glad you like it!
Story stats:
Chapter 2 word count: 3185
Total Story word count: 8383
Well, that's it for this chapter. Tune in soon, hopefully next week, for chapter 3, Goblins, Gargoyles, and Gold... Oh my!
Just kidding.
Press the little purple button in the corner, please!
Oh, I almost forgot! I promised you guys another profile, didn't I?
Name: Alexander Smythe
Age: 11
Hair color: Chestnut Brown
Plays: electric rhythm guitar and keyboard synth
Favorite colors: orange, orange, orange, and orange
Musical tastes: anything with lots of synth, and/or guitar solos
Theme song(s): "Over My Head" by Lit (off the Titan AE soundtrack. Lots of good guitar)
Hobbies: reading science fiction, hanging upside-down from the chinup bar in Number Four's
garage, making up guitar solos he'll never play
Likes: synth, guitar, synth, ripe oranges, synth, maraschino cherries, and did I mention synth?
Hates: wanna-be guitarists, stupid blondes, people who can't tell the difference between backup
and lead vocals.
Purple button, pweeese?