I am so sorry I haven't updated this story for quite some time, but I hope you enjoy what I've written. Please let me know what you think, and once more I do not own Harry Potter.

Enjoy.

Harley Potter: the Black Cat.

Hmm, the last few 'bad luck' experiments seemed to go brilliantly; okay, granted the time that van stalled at the roundabout wasn't a good move on my part, especially considering all of that traffic, but I did it with the best of intentions since there was that woman with the pram and that little kid, Harley thought to herself as she was idly lazing on her bed, looking up at the ceiling while she mentally went over all of her recent experiments, using her magic to induce moments of 'bad luck,' and although she had been doing it for a brief time now, Harley knew it would have to go to the next level at some point.

Harley knew she would need to begin to commit burglaries, using her magic to make it look like there was bad luck being induced; she'd only been conducting the bad luck experiments for the last three weeks, and they seemed to have worked so far, but she wanted to do what Marvel's Black Cat did; use her expertise and come up with imaginative tricks to give the illusion of bad luck, while at the same time she would be thinking on her feet.

That wasn't a problem for her.

Since she was an experienced burglar Harley knew how to do that, she had been doing it for years.

Besides, she wouldn't have escaped from Little Whinging if she hadn't used her imagination, coming up with the plan of escaping from Mrs Figg given how the old hag's security was minimalist compared to the almost prison-like dump favoured by Petunia and Vernon but she'd needed time to plot out her moves, taking them forward day by day and perform the tasks she'd needed to get through, getting everything she had planned down until she finally left Surrey and had some idea of how to think on her feet.

Harley got off her bed and she stretched a little and performed a few yoga and pilates moves so then she could get some circulation back into her body while she made plans to commit burglaries focused around her new bad luck experiments, but so far she had nothing to work on; her brain had been focusing on inducing moments of bad luck, using her knowledge of spells to make it all possible, but at the moment she had nothing but a few basic ideas of how to steal with the method.

Rubbing her temples, Harley whispered to herself, "Think, brain, think…," suddenly Harley paused and stiffened when she heard several someones running up the stairs, laughing until they passed by and then it went silent. Harley sighed. "I should really think about talking to myself in my room where anyone could overhear," she muttered to herself in irritation.

Harley left her bedroom and the house and went out into the garden, taking a large book out of her collection so she could give the illusion she was reading to herself in the garden where she could think. Her brain was now focusing on that matter, and she could already feel the ghosts of one or two ideas slipping into her mind. When she got to the garden doors, Harley saw there were a few kids outside, but that was okay with her since she knew she could just sit and read quietly while she focused on making some of her plans. Walking to a tree, Harley sat down and opened her book and pretended to get focused on what was printed in the book so she could think and reflect.

Ever since she had begun experimenting with her magic, Harley had been focusing less on burglary so then she could learn from the experiences of making people trip, fall, or drop things if they were holding them, and coming up with newer experiments along the way to build up her knowledge and expertise for much later.

She knew that this Dumbledore guy was out there who was ready to spirit her back to the Dursleys where they'd once more be free to beat the life out of her before she reached her next birthday while she forgot the last few years of her life. She knew that was what was likely to happen since Dumbledore wanted her to be beaten down before she went to his school.

She was just glad she now had her mother's memories; while they helped her to understand and remember the terrible magical war from her mother's memories, and how she, Harley, was prophesied to be the one to take down this Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, she honestly had little idea how her being beaten into a pulp by her so-called relatives was going to help in a war, although at the same time she had to admit it made some degree of sense.

Dumbledore saw her as a weapon, and a weapon needed to be developed and honed until it was perfect although she could guess without any shadow of doubt Dumbledore wouldn't want her to be as well perfected as she was now.

Harley shook her head, pushing the Dursleys and Dumbledore out of her mind, and she looked around the garden for inspiration before she realised she didn't have any ideas other than to simply pick a few targets, case them out, and go on from there. It was the method she had used over the years, and it worked, so all she would need to do would be to follow her original methodology.

Actually, that gave her an idea.

Original methodology.

What if she picked pockets like she had done in the past, with the guys (she would not think about the last day, how she'd had to watch their terrified faces as the police took them away)? It would certainly work; if she could distract her marks, cause them to trip or something, then she could nick their wallets or purses while they were distracted.

But at the same time, she was reluctant. Brighton was a great place for pickpockets given how it was a tourist magnet and all that, but Harley was a burglar. In any case, she hadn't really bothered practicing her pickpocketing moves for a long time, not since she'd been taken off of the streets, but some things never left.

At least that was the hope. In any case, she wasn't planning on picking pockets for long, perhaps a fortnight, maybe even a few more weeks over that limit but only if she felt pleased with the results. By the time she began, Harley knew she would have a much stronger grasp on the theory enough to form newer, bigger plans for burglaries.

At the same time… Harley had fallen in love with the Jonathan Creek series for several reasons. The first was because she liked the deadpan way Alan Davies portrayed Jonathan, and how he was able to picture things some people simply weren't mentally capable of visualising without outside aid; while she liked Maddy, Harley wished the writers would give the woman a better chance to grow as a person, instead of constantly portraying the same big-mouthed journalist who kept on spouting incredibly ridiculous ideas without even trying to stretch her brain to capacity.

Second, Harley liked the episode showing the portrait which went missing when it was in fact hidden away inside a hollow door. That in itself had given her dozens of ideas, and it had put her in mind of creating her own illusions. She had even gotten hold of a few books on illusion; she didn't bother nor did she really care about those incredibly stupid card tricks because she knew she couldn't do them - she had tried - and she was going through one or two of them while at the same time, she watched the show and made notes about what she needed to do.

Harley knew as a witch these tricks were nothing compared to what she could actually do, but there was only so much she could actually do without a wand available, so she just needed to work with what she had, but the books were still good for putting her into the kind of mindset she needed. When she had found herself on the streets, Harley had not known how to survive on her own, but she had learnt quickly and she had quickly adapted to the situation. This was nothing different.

She would use her new skills to pickpockets, and she knew she would come up with ideas for how to burgle people in their homes with the same methods.

XXX

Vivian Lomas had never visited the South Coast of Britain until now, although when she had planned out her holiday originally she hadn't purposefully planned to come down to Brighton at all. As a native of Glasgow, she had always holidayed in places like Inverness, the Highlands; her parents had never wanted her to venture far from their native Scotland. But that had changed when she had hit her teens, and her friends had come back from places like Hawaii, California, or even Tokyo. But Vivian wasn't that brave, well not yet.

She wanted to see more of the British Isles before she ventured any further, and so far Brighton was fulfilling the desire amazingly well. Technically, she was staying in Victoria in London, and she had come down here for the day because she had decided to visit the capital city of Britain originally. And then she had seen, from the railway station, it was a massive hub with connections to places she considered exotic. Brighton, Worthing, Portsmouth, Southhampton, and a place called Uckfield might have sounded boring to commuters who came from there, exactly like a native of Glasgow would have simply shrugged their shoulders dismissively at the mention of Cumbernauld, but for Vivian, they were places to just visit. She had already spent the first four days of her holiday travelling around London, travelling on one of those famous red-double decker buses to places she didn't even know. London was a maze, much bigger than Glasgow.

She had visited Buckingham Palace and seen one of those famous guards with that massive furry hat she had never gotten the name of - Vivian personally thought the thing looked like someone had dumped a giant thimble onto their heads and decorated them with fur - and she'd enjoyed snapping a few pictures of the guy before she'd left. She'd visited a few museums - the London Transport museum reminded her slightly of the exhibits of the Riverside Museum back home, only it was much larger, and dedicated to the transport history of London, but her favourite museum was the Natural History Museum with its incredible collection, and she had visited the Zoo.

However, one thing which had surprised the native Glaswegian was the Tube, although she was used to the idea of a subway underneath the city, the London Underground was enormous; instead of there just being a single, simple loop under the ground, there were several underground railway lines directly under the city, linking places like Essex to Surrey (she wondered if she should bother visiting those places, or if she should just focus on other parts of Britain before making her way back up north, but there was plenty of time for her to make up her mind).

However, she had problems with it.

The London Underground was nothing like the clean, efficient, and simple railway she was used to and proud to use, as a Glaswegian. She also felt it was dirty, overcrowded, but it had upset her that the underground railway she used was just a loop, and didn't link places where there was little in the way of transport.

In any case, she was pleased to have come here to Brighton. The only seasides she had visited were in Scotland, but this was a whole new experience for her. There were so many people down here, lying and lazing around on the beach, sunbathing or cooking on portable barbecues so the scent of burning meats mixed with the air. She wasn't sure how to take it, personally, but it smelt good.

Vivian was walking down a ramp leading to the beach when suddenly she cried out when she suddenly tripped. She went flying, but she was caught around the waist by a pair of thin arms.

"Are you okay?" Vivian found herself looking into the face of a young girl, much shorter than she was with emerald green eyes.

"Y-yeah, I think so," Vivian had time to say, but she stopped when she realised while she was lucky to be okay, her purse wasn't so lucky; the purse fell out of her handbag, and it crashed to the floor and the purse opened, and money fell out.

Vivian dropped to the ground to gather everything there, and she was surprised when the girl who'd helped her dropped to the ground as well.

When they were finished gathering the money, the girl handed Vivian the cash that had fallen out of her purse with a smile.

"Thanks!" Vivian smiled while the girl's own smile widened.

It wouldn't be until much later when she was back in her hotel room, she had lost a £10 note.

XXX

Victoria Masterson had been doing her job at Curiouser & Curiouser for five years, and she enjoyed every moment of it; she got the chance of meeting new people all the time, and she loved how her shop was smack bang in what she considered, in her humble opinion the best part of Brighton. As she went around the jewellers' shop carrying a tray to one of the displays, she saw there was only a blonde-haired girl. Victoria barely paid her much attention besides being a little bit curious about why such a small, young girl was in her shop.

The girl was just walking from one display case to the next, her eyes wide with wonder as she surveyed the jewels. Victoria kept her eye on the young kid, knowing she wasn't anyone to worry about. Something about her just seemed honest…

Suddenly Victoria let out a cry as she seemed to slip in her knee-high heels and she went flying backwards. She felt her vision explode in agony when she felt her the back of her head hit the ground. "Ow!" She then cursed vividly, English words in her vocabulary forming creative curses.

Victoria felt a presence near her. "Are you okay?" She opened her eyes and found herself looking up into what appeared to be a pair of sparkling emeralds. It took her a moment to recognise she was looking into the eyes of the girl, who was kneeling next to her with a look of concern Victoria was touched.

"Y-yes," Victoria replied feeling embarrassed and slightly ashamed she had cursed in front of this kid. "I'm fine. Just slipped-.'

"I know, I saw it," the girl smiled comfortingly down at her before she stood up and held out her hand. "Here, let me help you up."

Victoria handed the girl her hand, and with surprising strength for a girl her size and apparent age, Victoria was helped back on her feet.

"Thank you," Victoria said as she found herself back on her feet, looking down at her boots with irritation. She didn't intend on wearing the damn things to work, ever again.

"You're welcome," the girl smiled brightly, "do you need help with this?" She gestured around the store where the jewellery had fallen to the ground.

Victoria blew out a breath, considering. "Er, no, thank you for the offer though, but I can manage," she smiled down at the kid as if worried she'd offended her.

But the girl just smiled and walked out of the shop. Victoria smiled after her. "What a nice kid," she said to herself, before she sighed to herself as she looked down at the mess, and she started getting down on her knees and picking up all the jewellery she'd dropped. As she worked, she thought to herself she had thought she'd placed a couple of rings on the tray, but she felt it must have been her imagination.

XXX

Back in her bedroom at the children's home, Harley looked down at the collection on her bed. Pushed into a small heap on her bed was a collection of notes, coins, and even a few pieces of jewellery.

"Not bad," she thought to herself as she grinned at the collection. "Not bad at all for a few days of work. At least I've worked through enough of it to get an idea what I'd like to try next…."

Harley let a smirk cross her lips as she considered what she was planning on doing next. On her recent few days, she had been doing her research, and she had her next mark.

And it was going to be glorious…