This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter One.

15th June 1999

Samantha Scofield smiled. Her mother was cooking up a storm in the kitchen and telling her all the gossip she'dmissed since Christmas. It was good to be home. Not that she didn't love attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but the past three years had been so difficult it was always a relief to be back among family.

She hadn't even been able to return to Hogwarts for her forth year, and instead she and her family had gone on a 'World Tour', anything to get out of the country and away from a war she couldn't legally fight in. Anything to keep her wand. As a muggle-born that should have been the worst year of her life, but it wasn't. Samantha felt uncomfortably guilty for gallivanting around foreign parts, enjoying time with her family, while her friends were living through hell. They didn't hold it against her, but she felt her distance from them as they spoke of that time in hollow, haunted tones.

Then the war was over. Harry Potter defeated Voldemort as everyone had prayed he would. Everyone returned to Hogwarts, and everyone needed to repeat, so they did. It should have been a time of joyous celebration. The dark, poisonous cloud that had hung over them all for so long had cleared after all. Instead they spent the year trying to deal with the psychological damage most had experienced, trying not to notice those who were no longer there, and trying to pretend that random crying was part of their everyday existence before.

That was how people measured there lives now; into before and after.

The pure-bloods had their own problems. Hogwarts hadn't been the castle they knew and loved under Dumbledore during that hellish year. The stories from those who lived through it, whispered in the evenings like ghost stories round a campfire, were horrifying. It was obvious that Headmaster Snape had done his best to protect them, hindsight giving clearer vision as it always does, but not enough to leave Hogwarts untainted for them.

Even those whose parents had supported Voldemort were changed. Some, such as Malfoy, seemed to jump at their own shadows. Others were recoiling from the loss of relatives and friends, either to Azkaban or death. That was the only thing that linked everyone, students and teachers alike. Everyone had lost someone be they friend or family, sometimes both. When this grief poured over the lines of war were forgotten and comfort was given regardless.

There were no children left in Hogwarts, Samantha concluded.

"He just appeared out of no-where," Mrs Scofield was saying. "Has no idea where he came from, poor dear. Some sort of amnesia they say. They've searched the missing persons list and no-ones reported him. They'd be able to find him easily, he's got such distinctive scars.

"They wanted to put him in the national papers but he refused. Tries to avoid the any attention on him. I hear he was upset by appearing in the local papers. He's living with the Greens now."

Samantha was completely confused. "Who mum?"

"The boy I wrote about in my letters Sammy, don't you read them?"

Truth was Samantha barely scanned them. She'd been so overwhelmed by the events in her absence that local gossip had seemed too normal to take note of. "Don't call me Sammy, and of coarse I read your letters mum. It's just some info slips my mind occasionally."

"Well," her mum continued as she settled a plate before Samantha. "He's an untraceable boy who can't remember anything before standing in front of the war memorial just days Christmas. Lou Green found him, and he lives with her now, looks after her while her dad's away. I never liked the idea of her being there on her own."

Samantha chewed her dinner thoughtfully. After swallowing she waved her fork around expressively. "Isn't that, you know, a bit weird? Who just forgets their whole past? Did he get hit on the head, or what?"

Mrs Scofield shook her head. "Apparently it's a recognised psychological state, although very, very rare. Most people get their memories back slowly, but Nick doesn't have any familiar circumstances to help him. His past is just a blank." Her face filled with motherly concern. "It must be so disconcerting for him."

"But he's with the Greens, right?" Samantha said trying to point out the silver lining. "And they're great."

Mrs Scofield made a non-committal noise. "He has bonded well with Louise, and has been accepted into her friendship group. Even Julian seems to have taken a shine to him, and he's been so protective of her since Emma and Jean's passing."

Samantha's breath caught. Emma had been her best-friend while she was in primary school, they had still hung out occasionally during the summer, until she had been killed by giants nearly three years ago. A victim in a war she had never even known about. Her mother refused to say murdered in case she slipped in public, after all as far as the village knew it was a tragic accident in a freak gale.

"But," Mrs Scofield continued unaware of her daughters thoughts. "they can't help him find out who he was. How can he ever understand what he is, without knowing what he was?"

"Sometimes mum," Samantha said remembering the panic attacks, fears and overwhelming grief of the previous year. "I think that forgetting is the best thing."

"Hey Sammy, how's that posh school of yours?"

Samantha squinted up at the person who had so rudely interrupted her dosing. She was laying flat on her back in the grass, surrounded by the ruins of the Saxon hill fort. Lou Green towered over her, and Samantha took the opportunity to study her. The scars she'd received during the giant attack were brutally visible. Her right arm was tucked into her side where nerve damage had rendered it almost useless, and scars criss-crossed her face as if she were a patchwork doll. Samantha knew those scars covered most of her upper body, that she'd had to have extensive reconstructive surgery in hospital were chucks were literally ripped out of her. Samantha didn't know how the doctors had attributed the damage to a gale. She didn't ask.

"My name, as I remember telling you frequently Lou," Samantha said peevishly as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. "Is Samantha or Sam. Not, under punishment of death, Sammy."

Lou flopped onto the grass next to her. "I've known you since you were four years old, wild horses couldn't stop me calling you Sammy. You don't have a chance.

"When did you get back?"

"Couple days ago. Mum's been taking me visiting the family. This is my first day of freedom."

"Could be worse. I've still got a week and a half of collage and everyone's all geared up for summer so it's a complete waste of time. Not that anyone ever listens to me," she said with a small smile. "For some reason the tutors are convinced they know best.

"You must of just completed your G.C.S.E.'s. How'd they go?"

Of coarse Lou would know that, Emma would have sat them this summer. She offered a vague reply. "Umm, it's hard to tell until they come out isn't it? I'm pretty sure I passed most, everything except science."

"Who needs science," Lou commiserated. "Gravity's not going to stop working because you don't understand how it does. You might surprise yourself anyway, it's multiple choice. Isn't it?"

"Different exam board," Samantha said flatly hating the skills she'd acquired in lying. "We had to answer questions without prompting."

Lou winced sympathetically. "Ouch, that's harsh."

Wanting to divert attention away from her schooling Samantha asked, "How about you. What A-levels did you decide on in the end?"

"Mathematics, History and English Language. God knows why, I've no idea what I'm going to do with them."

"They're hardly useless subjects Lou," Samantha pointed out. "Not like that girl who wanted to take a degree in Klingon. Now that is useless."

Lou bounced excitedly as if she couldn't physically restrain her enthusiasm. "I remember that, it was on the news years ago. I wonder if she was able to in the end, I'd love to take my degree in Klingon."

Samantha gave her a pointed look. "You were kicked out of French and only scrapped a German G.C.S.E. out of pure luck."

"Details," Lou declared waving her hand dismissively.

Samantha shook her head in amusement and allowed herself to fall back onto the grass.

"What are you planning on doing with the rest of your life?" Lou asked and Samantha felt her lie down next to her.

"Good question. I've no idea.

"Tell me about this mysterious stranger who's moved in with you."

Lou let out a bark of shocked laughter. "You make in sound so sordid. He needed a place to live, we had room, he lives there. Like a lodger I suppose, which is a long and noble tradition in England. That's all there is to it."

"Mum said you'd 'bonded well' with him," Samantha said slyly.

"No offence Sammy, but your mum is the biggest gossip in town."

Samantha turned towards Lou and propped her head up on her hand. "So you're telling me you've had a bloke in your house, alone for most of the time I might add, and nothing's happened."

"Even if I was his type, and I'm not I might add. Even if I was his type it wouldn't be right." Lou chewed her lip thoughtfully. "He's kinda vulnerable. I mean he's been through such a hard time that his mind, in an act of self preservation, has wiped it's self clean. Dissociative Fugue. That's the medical term anyway. And I'm not surprised, he has these awful scars. There's one on his hand that's legible, for crying out loud! Horrible!

"Who would do that?!"

" Oh, I can think of a few people," Samantha muttered darkly. The back of her left hand seemed to tingle slightly as she was transported back to an ugly detention in second year.

A heavy silence stretched between for a little while, each caught in their own thoughts, until Lou tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, even if, by some miracle, I started winning beauty contests. I don't have the right equipment for Nick's taste."

"Ah, that would be a hitch." Samantha giggled slightly as she realised Lou's implication, grateful to be pulled away from more unappealing thoughts.

Lou stood up. "I've got to go. Dad's off again today and I need to be there to say goodbye. You busy tonight?"

"Nothing planned."

"Then come to The Castle for eight. There's a group of us meeting up and we have to show you how the other half live. Don't want you going all hoity-toity on us, do we?"

Samantha smiled, not even bothering to open her eyes. "I'll be there."

The Castle was what could be called a traditional English pub. The largest building in the town centre it had been a coaching inn in centuries past. It was hard to imagine what it's Elizabethan patrons would have made of it now. In a somewhat debatable act of taste the current owner had painted it yellow, bright sunshine, oh my god that's the largest banana I've ever seen, yellow. Samantha's mum still hadn't stopped tutting as she walked past.

Samantha pushed open the heavy oak door to find a more serene, cosy interior. Soft lightning and dark stained furniture gave it a traditional feel with it's horse-shoe bar and original fireplace. Samantha felt slightly out of place. This was the first time she'd ventured in here on her own and it felt as though the eyes of everyone of the regulars was on her, demanding her business in their sanctuary.

"Oi, Sammy! Over here!"

Lou's voice rang through the quiet bar and Samantha felt both embarrassment and relief. She hurried over to the small table just to the right of the fireplace that had a small group of teenagers around it. Lou was sat in the padded settle with Julian next to her and opposite were Richard Geeson and Bethany Fry. Samantha stole the only empty chair and shrugged off her coat.

"You remember everyone here, don't you?" Lou smiled, and when Samantha nodded Lou turned to the others at the table. "Everyone, I'm sure you remember Samantha Scofield, lost to the horrors of public education."

Everyone greeted her warmly and Samantha felt more content than she had in months. It was all so normal. Jules rose and asked her what she'd like to drink.

"A Coke please," Samantha replied going for the money in her purse.

"Don't worry about that. It'll be your round soon enough. Diet or fat?"

Samantha grinned, "Fat please."

"No probs."

"Where's Nick tonight anyway?" Bethany asked as Julian left for the bar.

"Finishing off his essay on 'To Kill A Mocking Bird' for tomorrow. He's left to the last minute. Again. I've had to lend him my old notes to help him. He'll turn up in a hour or two, I'm sure."

"You're a soft touch," Bethany said with a smile. "All he has to do is flash his pretty eyes at you, and you hand over all your notes."

"Not true!" Lou protested and her friends grinned.

"Yes it is," Richard said.. "I won't be surprised if when he turns up tonight it'll be with his essay in hand so you can check it for mistakes. You should just write it for him, save the paper. Did Nick even have to read the book?"

Lou threw a beer mat at Richards head. "Jerk."

"What did he do?" Julian asked as he placed Samantha's drink in front of her and sat down next to Lou again.

"What makes you think I did anything? Richard asked indignantly. "I was sat here, peacefully minding my own business, when I was viciously assaulted by this missile." Richard held up the offending beer mat as if it was a piece of evidence in court. "I was lucky not to be seriously injured in this atrocious and inhumane attack."

The rest of the table was trying to hold straight faces by the time Richard finished triumphantly. "You know," Samantha mused aloud. "Exaggeration is the tool of the devil."

"Exaggeration!" Bethany exclaimed. "That was downright falsehood."

The friendly banter continued to flow and Samantha thought that have face would have cracked through the sheer amount of smiling she was currently doing. This was the way normal teenagers lived. This is what she should have been doing with her friends. She felt a surge of grief for the wonderfully carefree days that had long gone and then stopped that train of thought. She wouldn't let the problems of her world ruin tonight.

It was nearing quarter-past ten when the enigmatic Nick showed up. Samantha felt a presence behind her just as Lou gave her greeting. After the others had given their greetings Lou began the introductions.

"Nick, this is an old friend of my sisters, Samantha Scofield."

Samantha turned her head to look at the guy everyone was talking about. Her mouth dropped open in shock. There could be no mistake. The lightning bolt scar just visible beneath the mop of messy black hair, oval green eyes behind his glasses.

"Sammy, this is…" Lou said continuing her introduction.

"Harry Potter," Samantha interrupted with out thinking, shock addling her common sense.

Harry Potter had been missing for nearly six months. No-one, except his closest companions, knew what had happened. And even they seemed worried beyond belief. There had been a high profile search in the Wizarding world. Fears for the mental state of their saviour had grown with every day that Harry had spent away. Samantha suddenly realised her mum had been writing to her about Harry all this time. How many clues had she missed? When this got out she was going to be a pariah.

Nick's eyes widened. He half whispered, "What did you say?"

What could she say? She was sat in a muggle pub with a man who had destroyed Voldemort, and then forgotten it. Samantha suddenly realised she shouldn't have said his name at all. She stood quickly, grabbed her coat and, instead of answering said, "I have to go. Right now. Sorry."

Her exit was impeded by a strong hand around her upper arm. She struggled against it slightly, but realising she had little chance of freeing herself without causing a scene she stopped, and turned to her captor. Nick was studying her intensely. Samantha shivered at the desperate hope written so plainly across his face. The others were watching her now, shocked at the turn of events and unsure what to do next.

"Do you know who I am?" Nick asked softly, his voice a strange contrast to the grip on her arm.

Samantha didn't want to lie to him, despite every piece of advice her brain was screaming at her. She looked at the floor and answered, "I can't be sure, I don't know you personally, but I think so. Yes."

He let go of her arm. Samantha wrapped her arms around herself, unsure of herself. She looked up to find Nick staring at her, pale and shaky. Julian and Lou flanked him now, seemingly ready to steady him if his legs gave out.

It took a long while before Nick was able to say anything and Samantha felt her unease growing and growing until she was sure it would overwhelm her. After what felt like hours Nick croaked, "My name? What is my name?"

"Harry Potter," Samantha replied. "Your name is Harry Potter and you'll be nineteen years old next month."

"How do you know?" That wasn't Nick, but Lou instead. Samantha looked at her and noticed she had a hand in the small of Nick's back.

"Harry Potter attended the same school as me." Samantha spoke to Nick again, "I can't be sure you're him, I don't want to raise your hopes. I mean you look like him but, Harry Potter's three years older than me, and in a different house. It's not like I talked with him everyday."

"Hang on," said Richard, startling Samantha as she had forgotten him and Bethany entirely. "If he turns nineteen in the next month then he would have finished his A-levels and left. If you don't know him, how did you know he was missing?"

Samantha almost laughed. Even if Harry had left Hogwarts before disappearing she would have known. "Harry and his friends took a year off last year. They travelled I believe, and came back this year." Once again she addressed Nick. "They're very worried. Please let me go contact them. They should be here, not me. I don't know anything."

"Worried, are they?" Nick spat, causing Samantha to step back from his sudden anger. "So very worried that they haven't even reported me to the police? So worried that, although we've contacted every missing person organisation in the country, no one meeting my description has people looking for them? Some friends."

"No." Samantha said desperately. "No, it's not like that. They care, we all do. They wouldn't have thought to report it to the police simply because…" She trailed off. What could she say, here in the middle of a crowded pub, surrounded my muggles who were eves-dropping on their conversation none to subtlety.

She couldn't do this. This wasn't her job. A wave of unreasonable anger crashed over her that she had been put in this position. That no-one, not even his muggle-born best friend, had thought to report His disappearance to the police. Samantha didn't know how to rescue this. She didn't know how to make it right.

"What's going on?" A deep booming voice shouted from the bar. "You lot know I'll have no trouble here. You want to have a show of teenage dramatics, take it outside. I'm not a youth-club."

The eyes of the group went to the think-set, balding landlord and Samantha made good her escape. She could hear their apologies, and then their startled gasps as they realised she was gone just as the door closed behind her. She knew they would follow. After all Harry Potter was not known for letting things go. Samantha thought they should probably all be grateful for that.

As soon as she got out into the fresh air she whirled round the corner and ducked into a nearly overgrown alley. She had used it with Emma when they were children and there was only a small chance Lou would think of it now, but they were more likely to take the pavements. And they would go straight to her house, Samantha realised grimly.

She slowed her pace and thought. Even if she sent What, her faithful long-eared owl, it would be several hours before she received a reply. The best thing would be to find a floo. As a muggle-born her house wasn't connected to the floo-network, and there were no other witches in Castermill.

Samantha automatically touched the wand she hand hidden underneath her shirt, taking comfort in it's presence. At that same moment the answer came to her. The Knight Bus. Continuing forward to the edge of the alley she stuck her wand out.

Author's note's: This is an idea I've been playing with for a little while, but I'm not sure whether to continue or not. Please let me know your opinion. I have half of the next chapter written just in case.

I've been unable to find a beta reader so please feel free to point out mistakes, and if you want to volunteer to beta for me I'd be very grateful.

Hope you enjoyed, Pearl.