You can also find me on TWITTER now (just remove the spaces between the letters and add the at sign):

ElenaPadme

I'm the rebel pilot in the blockade runner with Yoda in the background. (=Same picture as my profile picture here.)

On the early evening, as the burning heat of the July sun kept everyone on their well-tempered houses, a young girl had withdrawn to a hidden corner of the large Potter gardens which was enclosed by a thick beech hedges and bulky white oak trees with a large canopy providing much needed shade, next to a small, gurgling stream. It seemed that in that little corner of the garden, the heat was almost non-existent. The young girl had brought a blanket and quite a lot of pillows from the living room with her. Sitting on them she was fast reading through her reading list and redoing her summer homework, while her parents were already preparing for her brother's birthday party. Although she had hoped that this time they would include her too, as she had achieved so much in just a year, there was no indication that they would acknowledge her. She had decided that she would give them another chance on her birthday. If they ignored her again, then she would go through with her well-prepared prank and her family would know then that she existed.

She slowly became aware of shuffling steps through the dry grass. If her brother decided to disturb her peace, then she would show him what Dudley had taught her.

"There you are." She heard her favourite uncle's voice and beamed at him taking in his paleness and apparent tiredness.

"You look like somebody put you through the ringer." She commented putting her pencil on her exercise book, while leaning back against her pillow which made her lean against the strong trunk of the oak tree. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, don't worry, Harry, I'm fine." He answered taking in the scene. Several books were lying beside her in two stacks, three books were lying open in a half circle around her, next to her open notebook, which appeared neatly organized with different colours and very clear handwriting.

"You don't look fine." She remarked as he joined her on the large blanket.

"Have you heard about Damocles Belby's innovation, which I believe could help you?" she asked, and he shook his head. "No, I haven't. Why do you believe it could help me?"

"Well, he wrote an article in the Quibbler detailing the process of making it and how it works. He calls it Wolfsbane potion."

Remus grinned. "Harry, the Quibbler is not exactly a reliable news source. I'm thankful that you think about me, but my little furry problem should not concern you."

"Too late." She shook her head shifted one of her stacks of books and took out the Quibbler and leaved through the pages until she found the article again. "Aha, there it is." She shifted her books a bit and handed it to him.

"I thought so too, but once in a while the Quibbler actually has high quality articles. And the one in question wasn't written by any of Lovegoods, but by the potioneer himself and he also explained, that he needs people for the test trial, but for obvious reasons they are to scared to come out and the ministry of magic has expressed that they are not interested in funding his test trial as there are more important projects (in the minister's words) in the making. The Daily prophet even refused printing his article. Considering their hatred against anything that is different it's nothing new."

She shook her head.

"He explains that the potion will not cure the infected Lycanthropy, but that it will hopefully relieve the effects of it as it mostly consists of Aconite. Just read the article. It seems that he knows what he is talking about and his article reads almost like one of those published in scientific research papers."

The pale man took the magazine and carefully read through the article and he had to admit that the little girl was right. With each new page explaining the complex therapy and procedure, hope blossomed in his chest. Maybe there was hope after all and he would gladly take the disgusting taste for granted if it would relieve him from the excruciating pain he was forced to regularly go through with each transformation and he was not surprised that his intelligent godchild had read between the lines. Her brother was still so innocent and trusting, but not her.

He looked up from the article after finishing it and saw her frowning at one of the books with her pencil ready in her hand.

"Thanks for the info, little one. Mind if I keep it?" he asked, and she shook her head. "No of course not. That's why I saved it for you."

"Are you doing homework?" he enquired, and she wiggled her head. "Not, exactly. I've already finished it in the first week of the holidays. I've already went over it three times. I'm reading this out of curiosity."

"You are doing calculation out of curiosity?" he asked rising his eyebrow unbelievingly pointing to her notebook. "What's this anyway. I've never seen anything like it." he murmured.

"Oh, it's fantastic. These are called vectors and with it I can calculate pretty much anything. It's so thrilling, but this is only the basis and I can't stop learning about them. These exercises are just calculations using two dimensions. I can't wait to rotate the forms and calculate in three dimensions. "

"Sounds difficult." He murmured not quite comprehending what in Merlin's name she was talking about.

"Not really. Did you know that the Muggles have a saying about magic, which is actually a quote from Arthur C. Clarke?" she told him clearly in her element.

"No, what do they say about magic?" he enquired curiously, and she cited happily.

"They say, that magic is just science that we don't understand yet and when you think about it, this kind of makes sense. I mean, when we are using a spell, something happens that can surely be measured and just because nobody has merged real science with magic, it doesn't mean that it can't be done. Wizards take so much for granted and do not even realize what potential is out there. Just think about the endless possibilities when wizarding and muggle medicine is combined. Combining Muggle technology with magic could be the solution to our energy problems. We could get rid of fossil energy and work on renewable energy. Thus, saving our planet. We have so many possibilities, we can use to make the world a better place, yet we are not doing anything."

Remus chuckled. "I see that your school had a significant impact on you. Do you miss it, already?"

"Of course, I do." Harriet answered her facial expression becoming guarded again.

"Not having school is horrible. I'm bored. There isn't enough to do and my best friends are probably bored too. I would have preferred if I didn't have holidays so that I could progress further and stay away from this hellhole. But instead I'm forced to stay here until the Dursleys come back."

"Oh. Come on. It's not so bad here. The weather is wonderful, the manor is large, and the gardens are huge and well kept." He tried to make her see the beauty of this place, but she shook her head.

"It's only superficially beautiful, but it doesn't feel like home or what a home should feel like." Her voice wavered a bit and he saw her fight back tears and although he had suspected that his sensitive godchild was feeling sad, he now had the confirmation, that her seemingly uncaring and aloof appearance when she interacted with her family was a façade, that she kept from seeing her hurting. That's why she had fled the house and literally built her own nest of pillows. As he silently observed her fighting back her tears he could see that she was sitting slightly bent forward rubbing her the fingers of her right hand above a spot just above her heart.

"Well, then. How should home feel?" he queried.

"I don't know." She started. "It should be warm and welcoming. With a loving family, who loves you unconditionally, who's there for you when you are plagued by nightmares, who's happy with you when you achieved something, who just cares and doesn't forget that you exist. Basically, everything my family is not. But at least I still have the Dursleys."

"You also have me, my little wolf girl." Remus told her ruffling her hair.

She sniffled and quickly wiped away two escaped tears and massaged her specific aching above her heart again. She hated that he had seen her like this.

He sighed. "Harry, your parents do love you. Ahm, you know they just have a lot on their minds, with Alexander. It won't be easy for him when you-know-who will resurface."

Her facial expression changed as her lips turned into one thin line as she narrowed her eyes and focused them at him.

"Nope, don't make excuses for them. Yes, he will have to face Voldemort again and in that case, I'm glad that it won't be me, but he does not grasp the consequences and he probably never will. I'm not worth anything to them and if they would really love me they would be able to show it. They wouldn't even realize if I were gone."

She balled her fists. "He supposedly is the chosen one (she mocked the word), but nobody was with us when Voldemort attacked. Nobody knows what has really happened that night, only that he has been vanquished. How can the old geezer say that it was my brother, who vanquished him? Most obvious answer is because my brother is a boy and I'm just inconveniently a girl. Maybe it was us together or mum's protection spell, she cast before losing consciousness or some sort of protection that we are not yet aware of." She ranted breathing hard. "And why was he after our family? Neville was also born in late July."

Remus had asked similar questions several times already, but Dumbledore always had an answer to everything.

"I see you've spent thinking about this quite for quite some time now. Look, I understand your frustration Harry, but if I remember correctly Dumbledore examined you both and only your brother had been marked." He pointed at his front where her brother had his famous scar, but Harriet scoffed.

"Well, he didn't examine us well enough then. Hate to disappoint, but Alex is not the only one, who received a scar that night. Hurt like hell, not that anyone noticed. Not even dittany helped for the longest time" She turned her head, but her long curly dark hair away and showed him a faint white scar hidden behind her earlobe.

Remus breath hitched as he spotted the whitish scar in the form of a V behind her ear.

"Do Lily and James know about it?" he asked hoarsely, and Harriet shook her head. "No, they were too preoccupied with dotting on my brother. I tried to tell them, tell them how much my head pounded each night, but they never listened and kept ignoring me."

"Who gave you the dittany then?" Remus enquired the girl just shrugged. "Kreacher. I just remembered how it looked from one of the books and asked Sirius' house elf for some, which he thankfully provided."

The way his godchild fiddled with her hands told him that she must have omitted something.

"Have you told Lily and James how you feel about it all?" Remus asked wondering how he could help her and her family.

"How." She huffed angrily throwing her hands in the air. "I never get their attention long enough to start a conversation. The only way they react to me at all, is if I destroy something of Alexander's or something that is precious to them. I even had to blackmail them into signing my papers."

Remus wrecked his mind how he could help her, but he would need some help. James and Lily had changed considerably since Voldemort's attack and they needed to know about her scar. He would need to enlist Sirius help. Then it occurred to him, what she had just told him.

"You blackmailed them?" he enquired, and Harriet smirked knowingly and seemed to be proud of herself, which sent shivers down his back.

"I only insinuated that I've gathered enough "dirt" about them, which I would sent straight to the Daily Prophet and which would threaten their and especially Alexander's future."

"And?" he prodded. "Do you have something on them?"

The dangerous glint in her eyes grew.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I will disclose this information for the time being, even to you. Showing my hand would not be a smart move." She answered, and Remus shivered even more as he had to remind himself, that the girl would be only celebrate her seventh birthday in a few days. What if Dumbledore had been wrong? She was ridiculously smart.

"Oh my, you sound positively Slytherin." He murmured shaking his head and he saw her rolling her eyes.

"Just, because I'm forced to be cunning, does not mean that I'm a Slytherin and should I ever go to Hogwarts, there is only one house I want to get in." she informed him.

"Gryffindor?" he enquired in hope, but she shook her head.

"Nope, Why would I want to be in a house of irresponsible thunderheads? You're the exception to their rule of course" she added quickly making Remus chuckle.

"So not Slytherin and not Gryffindor, then, hm? That only leaves Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You are hardworking and fair, but I believe you want to be a Ravenclaw. Am I right?"

She nodded. "If I must go there, then yes. Do you know if there is a possibility that I could just write my OWLs and NEWT's without actually going to Hogwarts? I don't particularly fancy staying in the same school as my brother and his braindead goons and I've already memorized every book inside our library."

Remus frowned. It seemed that she was developing a serious jealousy, maybe even hate against her brother, which might become dangerous in the future. Something had to be done or there would be a catalytic event for the worse, but maybe her not going to Hogwarts was one possibility to prevent that from happening. But on the other hand there was so much more to magic than what could be found in books. So she would need a wizarding education.

"Well, there are some cases of wizards or witches being home-schooled, but there must be a good reason why they can't attend Hogwarts, like very bad health or in my case my 'little-furry problem'. Normally this must be agreed to by the parents, headmaster and at a simple majority of school governors."

"So, theoretically it could be done. How many governors are there?" she mused rubbing her chin in thought.

"The Hogwarts Board of Governors consists of a group of twelve wizards. If I'm not mistaken Lucius Malfoy is the current chairman." Remus answered and frowned at her growing smile. Maybe giving her this information hadn't been his best idea.

"Lucius Malfoy, hm? That's good to know."

"Harry, don't even think of getting in contact with him! He was a loyal Death Eater. He is not to be trusted." Remus implored. "He is cunning, ruthless and a formidable duellist. Do not underestimate him. He may have been spared Askaban because he supposedly was under the Imperius Curse, but everyone knows that he fancies the Dark Arts. Harry, Please, don't even consider going to him. Please." He begged her. The white blond Albino would surely use her for gaining valuable information on her family and use it against them.

"As if. I was only saying that it was an interesting information. Doesn't mean that I will actually go that far." She answered but her wheels were turning as she stored away that information for later.

Harry was finally free after her shift and her tutoring by Commander Eli Vanto. It had been the third time she had been required to report to his office where he went through some units with her while she was forced to stand attention and answer his questions using Sy Bisti and he would often correct her pronunciation. But she had gotten better at understanding it and even at speaking it.

He had told her that she still spoke with some accent, but that she would get better eventually. The questions she had to answer were not just about the language, but he used the conversations to quiz her about quite a lot of things.

When he had discovered that she was not that well read about history of the empire and history of the republic she had received additional "homework" but had sparked a heated discussion today that could eventually get her in trouble.

Reading through the history units she had found them terribly lacking as they portrayed only one side and sounded more like something a propagandist had spitted on paper or files, she had not found any other sources.

Using logic she had found several "plot holes" in the empires narrative, which only confirmed her suspicions that the history she was forced to read was incorrect. One of the plot holes was the supposed betrayal of the Jedi and she could not help but feel that something was amiss. Her feeling told her that the Jedi hadn't betrayed the people, but they would certainly have been a danger to the current administration.

Which was probably whey they had been wiped out. She hadn't told Commander Vanto about her suspicion, but he had probably gotten the gist when she had told him that history was written by the winning party in a war. That didn't mean that it was the truth.

As she lacked knowledge about battle naval tactics although they had brushed this in a class in the Academy, she was also forced to study Clone Wars Battles additionally to the languages and the history data on her pad. Why she had to do this was beyond her. But the worst thing she had found out in today's session.

She had finally dared to ask the officer if he knew what had happened to her personal belongings, which had been taken from her before her incarceration. He had been surprised at her asking about it and had obviously fought a grin and after a short pause he had informed her that her personal belongings, which were still missing from her locker, were probably still in Grand Admiral Thrawn's office. To say that she had been shocked would have been an understatement. She had felt the blood drain from her face and her knees had almost given way, but luckily, she had caught herself in time.

What could the Chiss possibly want with her note books and her diary? She was neither a person of interest nor high enough in rank to be of interest to him. She was just a lowly Midshipman. The ISB could have been interested in them if they were able to decode it, but why their Fleet commander? And how had he gotten them in the first place? And yet, he apparently had them all this time. She doubted Thrawn could read them, as the different scripts of Earth, which she had used in them were not even in the empire's databases. And the vast amount of languages spoken on Earth, which was called Terra by the Empire, were quite unusual for the empire. And it was unlikely that any language of Earth would ever make it into those databases. Her notebooks and her diary would be useless to him. Maybe he had just forgotten to give it back. That had to be it. She could not think of any other reason why she had not yet gotten them back.

Though, she shuddered at the thought that the photos and drawings of her loved ones would be scrutinized by the scary commander of the fleet. These photos and drawings were too personal and should not be in any other hands than hers.

But did he know what her wand was? She had worked hard to make it seem like it was a good luck charm and religious item, but would they fall for it? Vanto had called it a stick and not a wand. She just hoped that they would not figure it out otherwise she could kiss her life goodbye. But what really made her angry was the fact that because of her sessions with Commander Vanto, she had missed the first scheduled "mirror call".

Neville had informed her the next morning that they are fine and that he had been ordered to tell her that she should be careful and that they loved her very much. She was at least grateful for that and lucky for her, Longbottom had told her again that he would keep his distance, except for telling her the time of the next scheduled "mirror call".

She had no idea what had changed his mind as he had been too persistent before. She, however, suspected that one of the Dursley's might have revealed her "superpower" to him. At least the Dursley's had always positively named it that, but she sometimes considered it a curse. Especially as there was a medical term for that condition. A medical term for a just a handful of people who had it on Earth.

Harry reached her deck, changed into her training gear, but something felt off. She could not put a finger on it, but it was more her internal instinct, that told her that something was not right. She closed her locker and carefully looked around, looking at the five storey bunks and cots going endlessly to the right. Nothing seemed amiss. Some people were already sleeping at odd angles in the narrow bunks, others were sitting clustered together in small groups, playing, gossiping, some cots were empty, but neatly made as regulations ordered it. She turned to the left and observed the bunk row to her left.

Her breath hitched. On one cot to her left on the fifth upper row a young female with brown hair and light skin colour sat at the edge looking down. But she had obviously torn the sheets and created a sling which she now had around her neck.

Oh no! Not on my watch! Not another one! Harriet thought with racing heart. She could not mess this up. She needed to stay calm. She took a deep breath not leaving the suicidal woman out of her sight. She had not jumped and was clearly struggling with herself. So, there was still hope that she could prevent it. On Earth she would have sent someone to get help while stalling the suicidal, but knowing how things were handled here, the responsibility would fall to her.

"Don't do it!" she shouted upwards, stepping towards the young woman looking up. Some of the groups around fell silent.

"Go away!" the woman shouted at her with wavering voice hugging herself, while her feet were dangling in the air. To far in the air for Harry's taste. If she slipped she would be dead.

"I won't do that." She responded keeping her voice calm. "I'm Harry. What's your name?"

The young woman hesitated and responded mumbling "Baila." and Harry had almost not heard it, but she luckily was focused at her task at hand.

"Hi, Baila. That's a beautiful name." she remarked sincerely. Some of the bystanders were slowly etching closer to the scene and Harry did not like it one bit. She needed more space and not too many bystanders.

"Baila. May I come up to you?" she asked calmly. She needed to talk to her ,one on one, without curious bored onlookers.

"Stay where you are!" Baila shouted etching a bit forward and Harry ground her teeth. "Or I'm going to jump." She threatened.

Harry took one step back and gestured with her palms turned upward.

"Alright, Baila." She started again. "I understand that this situation is difficult, but you should know that you are not alone."

"Of course, I'm alone." Baila answered with tears streaming over her face. "We're all alone. Everyone for himself. Nobody cares about the other."

"I understand that you feel that way, Baila." Harry stated with soothing voice. "But you are not alone in this. I'm here for you. Do you hear me. I'm .here . for. you."

The other woman gulped and hesitantly nodded while tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Ok. Baila. I'm here for you." Harry repeated, "and I just want to talk with you." She paused shortly. "But I can't do this from down here. You deserve it, that we talk eye to eye." she implored her eyes never leaving the other woman's brown ones. Baila was breathing hard but it seemed that she was listening intently to Harry, who went on.

"May I come up to speak with you?" Harry asked. "You have my word. I won't try anything. I just want to talk with you. Ok?"

Baila continued breathing hard but nodded with tear-stricken face. "Ok."

"Ok. I promise that we will just talk. Can you promise me that you won't do anything to yourself without talking to me first?" she asked calmly but kept her eye contact.

"Mh." the brown-haired woman mumbled.

"Really?" Harry coaxed? "Do you promise or are you just saying that because you think I want to hear it?"

"I promise" the other one ground out and nodded.

"Thank you Baila." Harry smiled warmly at her.

"I'm now going to climb up to your bunk." Harry stated, "but could you do me a favour first? I won't be able to get in if your sheet is still around your neck and around the bunk post with its other end. Could you, just for the duration of our conversation, remove the sling from around your neck, please?"

Seconds trickled by and cold sweat was trickling down her back. Maybe she had gone too far asking for this.

There was still silence from the suicidal young woman… until…

"Oh, come on. Boring! Jump!" an annoyed male voice shot out from among the gathered crowed and Harry wanted to wring this man's neck, but she could not show violence now. It would destroy every little bit of rapport she had built up so far.

"Coward!" another voice rang out.

"Silence." Harry's voice thundered with blazing eyes over the taunting of the bystanders making them jump and silenced them immediately and only hoped that none of higher rank was among those she had silenced, or she could be dragged away. But she vowed to remember those two faces and they had no idea what was coming for them. Especially, if they rendered everything she had done so far to save this suicidal woman, useless.

"Baila. Please, don't listen to them. You gave me a promise." She addressed her with all the caring she could convey in her voice.

Baila still breathing hard had opened her arms which were now gripping the self-made sling and her gaze wandered back and forth between the crowed and Harry until it rested on Harry. She gulped hard and with that took the sling off her shoulders and let it next to her.

Now it was on Harry to take a steadying breath. She had built some trust and would now have to work hard to prevent her from committing suicide and if she had to use wandless magic. But magic would be her last resort.

"Thanks, Baila." She smiled calmly. "I'm now coming up."

No Thrawn in this chapter. Sorry, but things in the story are going to speed up now.

Looking forward to your reviews. Don't hold back.