Hello all! I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the kind reviews. I'm so happy to see people enjoying this and I'm looking forward to where this journey takes us. To answer a question from the reviews: I have alluded to why it hurts Vanessa to use certain spells. More will be explained in this chapter, but the full truth won't be revealed for a while.

Once again, please don't be afraid to give me any criticism. I'm doing my best to avoid any plot holes or grammar/spelling errors, but I know I can't catch them all on my own and I don't have a beta reader. I'm happy to see any feedback I get, really.

Now that I've taken up some of your time, please enjoy this chapter.


It didn't take us very long to figure out what had triggered the change in my eyes after the troll incident. Anger, fear, desperation – those were the easy ones to trigger on my own. Changing my teeth came with a more protective instinct, whether it was over myself or someone else didn't matter much. Getting the scales to start covering my skin, however, was something that still stumped us.

In reality, there was far more about this whole Dragonian thing that stumped us. It was a whole history that was basically lost. We weren't sure if the book of spells I found was for Dragonians or if it just had a weird title. We had no clue what being a Dragonian meant, or why they were so feared. All we had to go off of was a very brief blurb Professor Binns gave us the previous year, and it was barely anything. I felt like I was going mad trying to understand anything about myself. There were few history books that even mentioned Dragonians in passing, and even fewer that went into any detail. I was half tempted to ask the paintings of Hogwarts if they knew anything.

And that didn't even cover the part where it hurt me to use that spell we'd tried from the book I'd found. Pucey and Montague had to pry the information from me about the pain, but eventually I caved and told them it felt exactly the same as the chronic pain my potion was for. They really didn't like that. We started fighting about whether or not I should see Madame Pomfrey. The whole house could tell something was wrong. I wasn't sleeping well, and I took to spending more of my time with Alexandra and Myra, two of the girls from my dorm.

It all came to a head when my father asked me to stay behind after Potions one day in November, and the sight of my two friends staying behind as well gave me a hint of what it was about. So I took my time putting my things away, taking a calming breath to make sure my eyes stayed their natural hazel. When I finally looked up at my father the guilt welled up in me. I'd withdrawn from him more than I intended.

The smile plastered itself on my face anyway "You wanted to see me, dad?"

He frowned, giving me a pointed look "What's this I hear about you needing to go to the hospital wing?"

I rolled my eyes "I don't need to – "

"Vanessa, you can lie all you like. Montague and I are just worried. The whole of Slytherin house is, really. You're not sleeping through the night, you haven't for a while. Ember told us." My father seemed content to let us fight it out before he interfered, as he crossed his arms in front of him and leaned against his desk.

"What would Ember – "

"She sleeps in the same room as you. Apparently you wake her up when you have a particularly bad night. Which is frequently, according to her."

I bit my tongue, wishing desperately that my dad would say something. They were backing me into a corner, and I really didn't want that. They seemed to know that, however, since they were tag teaming today "Why haven't you taken your sleeping potion? Even for one night? You hate the nightmares." My teeth grit in frustration. It's not like I can just remember what happened to me. The pain is coming from something, some spell that was used on me. The nightmares are memories, if I can relive them often enough I might be able to figure out what's wrong with me. They didn't give me the chance to say any of that though "When's the last time you took the pain potion either? Myra said she hasn't seen you take a single dose in two weeks. And for that matter, neither has anyone else."

My father's eyes widened, and immediately he cut off the grilling I was getting "That's why you haven't been by to get anymore henbane? You've stopped taking all of your potions?" I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. How could I explain anything to them? None of them had the whole picture. I couldn't go to the hospital wing, I'd just be sent off to St. Mungo's for nothing again. I couldn't take the sleeping draught because I needed to remember and my dreams were the only place I could. And I couldn't take the pain potion because I needed to know where the pain was coming from. If it was my magical core then it was because of the Dragonian thing, if it was something else then I could go from there. But how was I supposed to say all of that? Clearly, my dilemma was taken the wrong way "Vanessa, if you don't tell me what's wrong with you I will be revoking your pass to go to Hogsmeade this weekend. I'll also be brewing your potions and you will be taking them, whether you want to or not."

A hiss escaped me before I could stop it, the anger got beyond my control and my eyes changed "I can't explain it, okay? There's no possible way any of you could understand what's happening to me." My eyes welled with tears, and I quickly brushed them away "I don't even know what's wrong with me! I've been having nightmares since I was three, and I'm sick of running from them. Especially if they can give me the answers to whatever happened to me that has me in constant agony. At the very least, the pain is a reminder of why I have to do this."

"Try us, I'll bet you we understand better than you think."

I glanced over at Montague before ducking my head "Everything that's happening to me this year can be explained by things that happened to me before the end of October in 1981." I could practically hear the shock that grew on my father's face "The only problem is that I don't know what those things are."

Pucey's brow furrowed "Well, yeah, we were all only three or younger by then." He looked over at my dad "I'm sure you would know though, wouldn't you, Professor Snape?"

I could see his head shake in my peripheral vision "I wouldn't know, actually. She wasn't my daughter then."

I grimaced, pulling away from my friends as I spoke "I was born to different parents. They were murdered, during the war. My father took me in the night it happened. I really don't remember much from before that."

Pucey blinked at me "Who were your biological parents then?"

My father placed a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him "That, I'm afraid, cannot be shared. It is best no one knows who her parents were for now."

I rolled my eyes, allowing my anger bubble to the surface again "Like hell I'm letting that old bat decide what my name is. I don't care if they're the reason I exist, I don't remember anything good about them. You're the one who raised me and actually cared about me, no one's taking that away from me."

Of course, my protectiveness of my identity also allowed my teeth to morph. While I was facing my father. The panic almost overwhelmed me, but his lack of a reaction was more confusing than anything. At my look it was his turn to roll his eyes, and a familiarly joking tone reverberated in my ears "I've been raising you since you were three years old and you think I never noticed? You were practically spitting venom at the headmaster on your sixth birthday."

I paled, a woozy feeling taking over "He knows?"

My father's brow furrowed in confusion "Of course he knows, he's the one who found you that night. He even handed you to me."

Pucey and Montague had to catch me as I almost fell back. This was a new feeling. What was it? It wasn't fear, I'd felt that for years as a child. Resentment, bitterness, terror, recognition – nothing seemed to fit as I went down a list of emotions in my head. But then it clicked. Hopeless. I felt absolutely hopeless. If Dumbledore found me that night, if he's the one who gave me to my father. He knows my identity, he knows every person I love. He even already knows that I'm – possibly - a Dragonian.

I'm terrified of him for a reason. I have been since I was a little girl. The first night I met him I screamed and cried – no. That was the second time at least. He waited three years to meet me again. Why would he wait three years to meet me again? If it's so important to him that I take up the Potter name again when I'm older, why not visit me constantly? Why even bother separating me from Harry? That's all wrong. Who does that to a child who just watched her parents get murdered?

That set off a pang of terror in my heart. It was true. I did watch them get murdered. I see the flash of green light in my nightmares all the time. I only ever see two, and I knew the story. Lily jumped in front of Harry to protect him. One flash for her, the other for my little brother who would be the only one to ever survive. Why wasn't there one for me? The Dark Lord didn't sound like the kind of man to leave witnesses, even if they are little girls. And what about the purple light I see after? It can't have come from anyone who took part in those events. So who did it come from? What was it?

And that's why I felt hopeless. Even the Dark Lord was scared of Dumbledore. He frequently ran from the old man. So how could I, a third year under his watchful eye, ever get the upper hand? The man wanted to manipulate my life. He was involved with what happened to me, he had to be. No one could save me from the situation I've just realized I'm in. No one but me, and my father had to be left out of it. I didn't trust him to keep from attacking Dumbledore if he found out. I had to undertake the most daunting thing anyone could ever have to do. I had to fight Albus Dumbledore for my freedom. For my life.

I stood straight, avoiding eye contact with my father to maintain some privacy. He didn't do it often, but when he was worried enough he would peak into my head. I almost always forgave him, but this time I couldn't let him have the chance. So I didn't. I moved to grab my bag from my seat "Dad, would you be able to find books that go into detail about Dragonians? We've dug through the library hundreds of times, but nothing gives more than a page of information. If that's what I am I'd like to be able to understand what it means and control it." I didn't give him the chance to speak after I got his confirmation "Great, I promise I'll start taking the potions again as soon as I brew some more. You can even have Montague and Pucey report to you whether or not I do."

My two best friends followed me out and away from my father. He wouldn't follow, he knew I was telling him the truth. He also knew I'd be up to something in the future, but unless he thought it would put me in danger he wouldn't interfere. He'd learned throughout my years roaming the castle that it was best to just let me plot and do what I do best. Montague and Pucey, however, hadn't known me for ten years. They'd only known me for a little over two. But they were also going to be crucial to my plan, so I had to let them in on it. I just needed some privacy to do it, and I knew the perfect place.

The climb up to the seventh floor was as tiring as always, with Montague and Pucey yelling at me to slow down. But I had a goal, and I needed to tell them fast. The sooner we started, the sooner I could be free. My pacing in front of the wall didn't stop, even as the two boys huffed behind me. Once the door started forming I pivoted on my heel, motioning for them to follow me in. There was a cozy little fireplace with three chairs in front of it in the corner, and a wide open space that took up most of the room.

I chose the chair that gave me a view of the door as well as my two friends. They sat quietly, watching me carefully. They had every right to be wary, this was not normal behavior for me. So I took a deep breath, and started my explanation "We need to learn occlumency. I trust the two of you more than anyone, save my father, but I can't trust people who could be Legilimens. What I'm about to tell you two can't ever make its way to my father. It can't ever leave this room, really."

Pucey frowned "Isn't your father good with occlumency though? Couldn't he teach us?"

I shook my head "He's taught me a little. Just enough so I can know when someone is in my head, but not enough to kick them out or hold strong. Besides, I can't have him knowing any of this. He's too protective of me and what we're about to be up to is putting us at levels of risk that even the Dark Lord might call crazy."

Montague could only stare at me in shock "Are you insane? Then why are we doing it?"

I had to take another deep breath. I was asking a lot from them, I had to give them the chance to walk away "Look, I can't explain it. Not without your agreeing to take part. But this will be dangerous, and I'm not even completely sure how it is. All I know is someone very powerful did something to me the same night my birth parents were murdered. And they're currently trying to manipulate my life."

"You know more than that – that's just all you can say without us swearing to help you." I nodded, making Montague stand and pace in front of the fireplace. I waited patiently for either of them to speak. They had to choose on their own, not by me trying to sugar coat it. This wasn't a game, this was real. Montague stopped, releasing a deep breath "If we agree to help, how hard will this be? Are we likely to die? Or is it a different kind of danger?"

I frowned, shrugging reluctantly "I don't know. It could take us years. I don't know if the person we're going up against is willing to kill to keep me under control. Hell, they might have been trying to kill me that night. At the very least, if they find out what you know they'll be willing to cause you harm."

Pucey stood and joined him then "And if we don't? What happens to you?"

I couldn't look them in the eye for that one. I was really trying not to think about that "They either kill me or destroy my identity. They'll force me to take the name I was given when I was a baby, and after that I don't know. They've probably got some plan for me, I just don't know what it is."

They exchanged glances, as if they were confirming it with each other. I saw them nod before they stepped forward "Then we'll do it."

I stared up at them, both relieved and terrified "Really?"

Montague nodded, a reassuring smile growing on his face "Really. We can't just let you face this on your own. So," They both retook their seats, watching me "Who are we going up against?"

The grimace was unstoppable "Dumbledore." When I looked up at their faces, they were suddenly very pale. I couldn't blame them. So I continued "There's also another big thing about this that you need to know." I took their silence as a cue for me to continued. I swallowed nervously and licked my lips before continuing "The name I was given by my birth parents was Amelia Rhoswen Potter. Harry Potter is my little brother."

The silence dragged for what felt like hours before one of them spoke. Pucey took the opportunity to ask a few more questions, and I answered to the best of my ability. Montague took a little longer to join in, but eventually he did. And then I explained the rest to them. Everything I could remember from that night, the fact that I know Dumbledore did something to me. How he waited three years to visit me, and how he sensationalized my family to me – my father made sure to fix that by telling me what James and his friends did when they were younger.

I explained that we might never actually know how I became a Dragonian, but that legilimency might help us know what happened that Halloween night. That also led to why we all needed to become skilled at occlumency, and fast. Dumbledore was a Legilimens, a very good one. If at any point he decided to have a peak at our brains he'd be able to with no trouble. We spent the rest of that day before dinner working out a plan to start learning with each other.