Sorry for the long wait. I've been working on my other stories, and this one just wasn't drawing for me at the time, but I've updated now so I hope you enjoy it. There is some abuse in this chapter. Just a warning.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously.

Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.

The story started… well, if you want to get technical it started when Voldemort killed Lily and James Potter, my parents - but of course, I didn't know that at the time. This event set everything into motion. My first awareness of there being a story could have been when Hagrid knocked down Harry's door and gave him his Hogwarts letter, that is certainly when Harry's story started, and when I became aware of the existence of magic. But I think the story really started for me on the Halloween after my eleventh birthday.

By that point, I had already solidified the conclusion that Harry must've been my brother and that somehow I had gone missing as an infant. I had already realized that I was, in fact, a witch and was capable of using magic, but I consider that the start of my story because that was the first close encounter that I had with magic, and the last time I ever saw the Newlins.

I woke up Halloween morning the same way I always did, to Elijah banging his fist against the door yelling at me to wake up and make him breakfast. It didn't bother me that much. At least he had yet to realize he could have bought me an alarm clock and forced me to wake up before him to make breakfast. Not an idea I would've brought up, but an intelligent one nonetheless.

I made breakfast like I did every day Then, the Newlins went out after giving me an unreasonably long list of chores to accomplish before they returned home. Nothing really interesting happened until their return at six o'clock in the evening.

I sighed as the car pulled into the driveway. Of the eleven chores, they assigned me, I had yet to clean and organize the basement, and repaint the shed and fences. Why the latter was a necessity, I never did find out, but Elijah put great importance on it, which meant it had to mean something to me, too.

Elijah stormed into the house, and shouted, "Brat! Get up here now!"

I ran up from the basement I had been furiously trying to finish before came inside, as he continued, "I thought that I told you to repaint the shed? What did you do all day? Lounge around? You better have at least managed to complete the rest of your chores!"

I looked up briefly, in time to see Josephine giving me a look of pure loathing, and she said, "Dear, I rather think she might also have forgotten to clean our cellar, seeing the direction from which she just came."

As she said this, I remembered something she used to tell me when I was younger. "I know what you are," she would hiss at me in disgust. I had never understood the meaning until that moment. Somehow. Somehow, Josephine had known I was a witch. Even before I, myself had understood what was happening. Did she have ties to the Wizarding World?

But at that particular moment, it was her shocking intellect that had once again proven to do more harm than good for my cause. She was smart, and Elijah was averagely so. It made me wonder how Dulcis could possibly be as stupid as he was. Granted it wasn't as though I appreciated her observation skills because in that instance all it had accomplished was making my punishment that much worse.

Elijah's face darkened in color as he yelled, "Is this true, Brat?"

"Yes, sir," I said quietly because I knew from prior experience that lying to Elijah when it was very simple for him to find out, was never a good idea. The last time I had dared to try it, I had ended up with my arm broken in five places and two black eyes. That wasn't even to mention the countless bruises from where he had thrown me around the room. No. Telling the truth was a far safer option.

He took a step towards me, and I had to physically force myself to not run away from him. I'd tried that before, too; it didn't work out great for me.

When the back of his hand slammed into the side of my head, it didn't surprise me. Not even when it sent me flying into the wall behind me. My head hit the wall, hard, and my vision began to spin. In the dazed state, I was in, I failed to notice when he pulled his fist back to hit me again. Until said fist landed against my ribs. Once. Twice. Three times.

With the third hit, I screamed. The force of that it had managed to break at least three of my ribs and I could already feel my breathing starting to burn.

"When I… tell… do it!" Elijah was screaming at me as he grabbed my throat and pushed me back into the wall. I couldn't make out what exactly he said because of the spinning in my head. Even when I just tried to look at him I was seeing three of him. He released my neck right before I blacked out from lack of air.

He grabbed my arm and kicked the back of my legs causing me to fall over. I heard a sickening pop as my arm was pulled out of its socket. The arm he wasn't holding reached out in front of me trying to block my fall, but only succeeding in slowing my fall, and my wrist bending in a direction it was not meant to be bent in..

As he raised his foot to bring it down on my ankle, I felt it. The feeling that signaled the start of a vision.

As the pain in my leg started to grow, I saw Harry. He was in a bathroom. A girls' bathroom. Ron, Harry's good friend, stood next to him, and taking cover beneath a sink was Hermione, a girl in their year. The positioning of Ron and Harry made it look as though they were defending her. This was, of course, when my concussed mind finally realized that there was a troll.

A huge and hideous creature that stood nearly twelve feet tall. It had a disproportionately small head and pale, very wrinkled, greyish green skin. Even worse, if you can believe it, was the horrible club dangling from the monster's dirty hands. Harry and Ron attempted to confuse it, but it didn't appear to be working as they hoped. As the creature started to run at Ron, who was unable to dodge, Harry jumped up and wrapped his arms around the troll's neck.

It was a strange tactic. Likely an incredibly dumb decision, but it was effective in drawing the troll's attention. Unfortunately, the troll's attention went into trying to swat Harry from his back. At this instant, I felt the fear coming off Harry. The worry that flooded my mind took over everything.

All of a sudden, there was a loud crack. I fell to my knees - though I couldn't recall having gotten off the floor in the first place - with a feeling of nausea and intense pain in my right ankle. As my vision continued to spin, I realized where I was. I would've been inclined to believe I was still in the vision if it weren't for my hand which was touching the smooth cement bathroom floors. The Newlins house had only one cement-floored room, and what I had been touching felt nothing like the rough, scratchy floor of the cellar, which could mean only one thing. Somehow I had appeared at Hogwarts. I didn't know how it was possible. As I looked up to get a feel for my surroundings, I noticed that I had missed the troll being knocked out, and none of the room's occupants - for McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell had, at some point, entered - seemed to notice my appearance.

At some point, Hermione had left the room, and as McGonagall awarded Harry and Ron each five house points, she dismissed them, leaving only McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell in the bathroom. McGonagall leaves saying that she needs to go and check on her students leaving just the two male teachers.

Snape turned to Quirrell with a glare, and hissed, "I know what you're up to Quirrell. Don't think you'll get away with it."

Quirrell paled and said in a stuttering voice, "I- I haven't a c- clue what y- you're t- talking about, S- Severus."

"Don't play dumb, Quirrell. I know-" which was, of course, when Snape's eyes landed on me, "Leave, Quirrell," He ordered to the man, who looked at me in shock, and scurried out the door before Snape could change his mind.

"You're not a student," Snape said to me.

"No, sir," I replied.

"Who are you?" he asked looking at my eyes.

"Skyler P-" I started to say, responding to the stern tone in his voice. A tone that demanded respect.

"Potter," he finished, with a sigh, "That's what I thought."

I looked at him with wide eyes, wondering how he knew who I was, and what was going to happen next.

He gave me a scrutinizing look, before sighing and saying with a slight sneer, "Well, come on then. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing so that I can figure out where you've come from."

It was only then that I remembered that I was on my knees. I stood up quickly, which was not a good idea. Not only was my ankle very broken, but the sudden movement also sent my brain into another dizzy spell. I fell back into the wall behind me, using one arm to brace myself against it. The other arm went up to my head which was throbbing in pain.

I must have blacked out momentarily again because when I regained awareness, Snape was at my side with his arm wrapped under my arm to keep me upright. I hissed in pain because he was holding my injured ribs quite tightly, and he loosened his grip.

"Come, Miss Potter," he said in a soft voice, for which I was thankful. It didn't aggravate my head nearly as bad, "Let's get you to the infirmary."

Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought. :)