Disclaimer: All of these amazing charecters, with the exception of Hannah, are the creation of J.K. Rowling. I just added some ideas.

A/K: I might just hit on the important parts of each year so let me know if you think that's a good idea. Thanks!

I wasn't allowed out of my closet for another two hours. I was starving and stiff. There was barley enough room to stand up let alone lie down to sleep. It had been this way for 11 years. I'm sure they took better care, if not by much, of me when I was a baby. But knowing the Dursleys, probably not. I ended up falling asleep standing, waiting for 8:00.

"HANNAH!! WHAT THE RUDDY HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! GET OUT HERE NOW!!!!!!" came my wake-up call. That would be Uncle Vernon. I sighed. It would be nice just to get out of this closet. I unstuck the closet door and headed down to breakfast. I would have 30 min of freedom then I was off to school. I wouldn't be home till 3:00. There was a very tight schedule for me. That's why I never came home from school if I was sick. Thank God I had a great immune system. When I entered the kitchen I could smell the bacon, eggs, and pancake batter. But I knew it wasn't for me. I would get cereal like I had the rest of my life. Dudley would get the pancakes. I don't think he was all there. Mentally I mean. Physically he was and then some. What I mean is that he was always talking about "The Boy" I'm not sure what that meant but Vernon always seemed to agree with him. Example: "Hey dad. Did you see him run across the street to not miss the bus? He's so freaking fast. It's not natural." "I agree with you my boy. He's not natural." So…. See what I mean.

The day went on normally. School and all. But when I got home there was an owl perched by the door clutching, what seemed to be an envelope, in his beak.

"Hey there. Wow, you're gorgeous." I whispered to it. 'Go on get out of here. The Dursleys aren't fond of owls. Or any animal now that I think about it." It didn't budge. I shrugged and opened the door. As I did the owl flew in. "NO!" I cried. This was not good. The Dursleys were going to kill me. No joke. Sure enough as I walked in I was greeted by a shriek from Aunt Petunia.

"What is that thing doing in my house?!?"

"I don't know Petunia."

"Is that…. Is that the letter?"

"It can't be!"

"Vernon it is!"

"Well we'll just have to burn it!" What were they talking about? I cautiously walked in to the kitchen, pausing ever so slightly as I passed the cupboard under the stairs. I always thought there was something weird about that thing. I just wasn't sure what. My entrance to the kitchen was not greeted well at all.

"What are you doing down here?!?" Uncle Vernon hissed at me.

"Well…uhh… I heard shrieking." I stammered

"Well get to your closet! NOW!"I went without question. It was strange. He seemed almost…well scared.

The rest of the week went by without incident. I faded back into the back ground I knew so well. But the following Tuesday, when I got home a letter came from the fireplace. I picked it up and took it to Uncle Vernon. I didn't notice the rustle as more letters followed. Uncle Vernon wasn't to happy to see it. He went purple then grabbed it and shredded it. Then, big surprise, sent me to my closet.

But before I reached it, there was a commotion. I dropped my bag where I was and flew down the stairs. As I reached the cupboard under them, the door swung open and I ran straight into it. As I lay there, dazed, on the ground, a very attractive head of untidy black hair poked around the door.

"Are you okay?" he asked concerned. Then, "Wait. Who are you?" I didn't respond. I had noticed the scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his fore head. I guess now would be a good time to mention my own scar. It was on my upper collar bone. Shaped like a lightning bolt. "And furthermore, why are you here?"

"Well....uhhhh…..I…..I live here?" I almost asked. Then caught myself. I was never ever unsure of myself. " I live here." I said more confidently.

"Wait. I live here."

"No. You don't." Then I remembered. "The boy," I whispered as he said "The girl."

"So that's what they meant!" I cried. Just then Uncle Vernon came barreling from the kitchen.

"Oh snap." I said as the boy said "Bloody hell."

"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE?!?!" Vernon shouted. " I TOLD YOU TO GO TO YOUR CLOSET!"

" I…I…I…. I'm going."

"No the damage is done. Pack your bags we're leaving."

"Uhh….Sorry, what bags?" the boy asked, "We don't exactly have anything to pack." I stifled a smile. It was a great question. Uncle Vernon didn't think so.

"YOU LITTLE…." He was cut off by a scream from Aunt Petunia.

"VERNON!!!!!!!!!!! There's one for each of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she shrieked. What on earth were they talking about? Uncle Vernon understood perfectly. He went purple.

"One…one for each?"

"YES!! For Harry AND Hannah!"

"She's one too?"

"Well apparently." I looked at the boy, Harry I guess, in amazement. I was a what to? What was he that I was too? What ever it was it must have been bad. Vernon looked at us and seemed to realize something.

"Get up stairs and get you things. NO BACK TALK." as Harry begun to talk. I hurried upstairs while Harry dove into his cupboard. What on earth was going on? Who was this Harry who had lived here the whole time I had without either of us knowing about the other? Was their more the Dursleys weren't telling us?