Full Summary: Bella is The-Girl-Who-Lived. The past is the same, only it was Bella who was there when Lily and James were killed. Bella goes to the Dursley's since she is now the chosen one. The only difference between the Dursley's in this story and the books is that they are not only verbally abusive but also physically abusive. When Bella goes to Hogwarts she finds friends and a loving family. People start to find out about the abuse and demands that Bella not be allowed to go back to the Dursley's. What will Dumbledore's answer be?
I do not own anything originally from Harry Potter or Twilight.
IPOV
I woke up the next morning, perfectly coherent. I remembered everything that happened, looked down at my robes and promptly grimaced in disgust. It seems that Snape had been unable to purge the revolting substance from the fabric of my clothes. I would have to find something to clean that out. But for now, I would be taking long hot shower.
It was Saturday, November the first, and my hair was not coming clean. How horrible could a Halloween weekend be? I turned the water as hot as I could tolerate it, scrubbing at my head hard enough to bruise the tips of my fingers and rip some hair out. My scalp and hands were sore and my body was a bright red by the time my shower was over, but I was finally clean - completely - and I smelled not of troll remains, but of sweet peas and lavender. My fluffy, white towel felt like velvet against my skin after the rigorous scrubbing it had endured and I was starving. Hopefully, they would be serving something amazing in the great hall for breakfast, considering I had missed dinner yesterday.
I dressed quickly and practically ran up to the Great Hall. I immediately went to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione and the twins were already seated, but I was thrown through a loop. Where an empty seat should have been, reserved especially for me, Ronald Weasley was seated. I couldn't help but feel hurt. Did Hermione finally get sick of being ridiculed for being friends with the 'slimy Slytherin'? Was she finally pushed into replacing me with a boy who didn't have any manners, whatsoever? I couldn't help but think, 'Am I not good enough anymore? Am I finally being tossed away, no longer wanted?' So I turned, looking for my Slytherin friends and found the empty seat where I sat when I sat with them. It was between Blaise and Gino, so I climbed into the bench and sat between them.
From that point on - for a certain point of time, that is - I spoke, nor sat with Hermione Granger. She didn't seem to mind. I was saddened deeply by this, and my Slytherin friends noticed this. It was only a few days into November when, in the Slytherin common room, they sat me down and spoke to me about my ascending depressing. I had been avoiding anything of the sort. I distinctly remember Snape trying to stop me and talk to me about my sadness, but I ignored him every time.
"What's up, Izzy?" Joey started.
"Nothing much," I replied, looking at one of my essays. "Just doing a bit of homework."
"That's good. So why did you all of a sudden stop hanging out with your Gryffindor friends?" He asked abruptly. All four of them were looking at me expectantly.
"I was replaced," I answered shortly, still looking over my essay for any mistakes. With that, I picked everything up and went to bed for the night. I didn't want to talk about the first friends I had who had completely forgotten about me. I felt completely stupid for even thinking that I could have more than just a few friends. Honestly, I was so depressed, I didn't even care that Malfoy was always coming up with some pathetic way to try to bully me.
One good thing about the month of November was that I would finally start playing Quidditch after weeks of training. I had proven myself to Marcus and would have the chance to impress everyone on Saturday at my first ever Quidditch game. It would be spectacular!
Very few people had seen me play, and they were all part of Slytherin. I was deemed the secret weapon and was kept secret from all except the team and Professor Snape. I had also learned that there were seven hundred ways to foul in a game from a book called Quidditch Through the Ages and that all of them had been performed in a World Cup match in 1473. Seekers were also usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them. People also rarely died playing Quidditch, but referees had been known to vanish and turn up again a few months down the road in the Sahara Desert.
It was definitely starting to get into winter weather, but I didn't really mind. One day, after class I sat outside with Quidditch Through the Ages by the lake, reading through it for the third time, hoping to pick some trick up for the game. Snape came out, looking agitated. When he saw me, he looked somewhat gleeful, but not in a nice way. He was limping, and it concerned me slightly. Had something happened to him during one of his lessons today? I hadn't seen him since my lesson yesterday and there wasn't anything wrong with him then…
Snape stopped in front of me and I looked up at him. He seemed inhumanly tall from this angle, but I stayed sitting, hoping Snape wouldn't make me go anywhere. He didn't, though he made my day a whole lot worse.
"What have you got there, Potter?" Potter? He'd never called me Potter before. It was always Miss Potter or, if he was in a compassionate mood, Isabella. Never had he called me Potter with such hate in his voice.
I held up my copy of Quidditch Through the Ages to show him. His face twisted into a sneer.
"Library books are not to be taken outside. Give that to me. Five points from Slytherin," he snapped as he snatched the book away from me.
I was absolutely bewildered. Snape had never acted like that toward me before. It seemed that only four people could tolerate me in this world.
I sighed, looking out at the cold, steel grey lake. I decided I would go pay Hagrid an impromptu visit before I went inside.
I knocked on the door, and heard an almighty barking coming from inside. I could hear Hagrid inside, struggling with the dog and telling him to get back. He opened the door and grinned widely at me. "Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang, back." He ordered the dog named Fang. He let me inside, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. He looked like the cutest dog in the world.
Inside Hagrid's hut, there was only room. Hams and Pheasants hung from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with s patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yourself at home," Hagrid said, finally letting go of the giant dog. He bounded right at me, jumping up so his large paws rested on my shoulders and started licking my face. I giggled and hugged Fang. Like his owner, he clearly wasn't as fierce as he looked.
"Fang, don't do that!" Hagrid ordered, but I shook my head at him.
"It's alright, Hagrid. He's fine," I said with a large grin and giggled. Hagrid smiled at my obvious happiness and turned to put boiling water in a brass kettle and some rock cakes on a plate.
I sat in a chair at the large wooden table and watched Hagrid bustle around importantly. Fang had his head in my lap, slobbering slightly. I didn't mind, though. I quite enjoyed the feel of his large, warm head resting on my thighs.
Hagrid turned and put the plate of Rock Cakes in front of me along with a cup of strong smelling tea. I tore a small chunk out of the cake to see what was in it and sighed with disappointment.
"Oh, Hagrid, I'm sorry. I can't eat the cakes. Raisons really disagree with my stomach. I'll be sick for days if I eat them. I'm so sorry," I said, very nearly near tears. I really did want to see how Hagrid's Rock Cakes tasted, but I was being truthful. I would be vomiting in the bathroom for at least a week.
Hagrid didn't seem disappointed at this at all, though. "It's alright Izzy. They're not all that great anyway," he said with a large smile. He turned, dumping the cakes into a bowl on the floor with FANG painted on it clumsily. I sighed in relief.
We sat talking for a while before a news article caught my eye. I reached out, staring at it. "Hagrid, may I?" I asked, not wanting to be rude. When he nodded, I snatched up the Daily Prophet quickly.
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokes goblin that afternoon.
I didn't remember anything about a break-in at Gringotts. And it was the day of my birthday, too!
"Hagrid, the Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday!" I exclaimed. "It might have happened while we were there!"
Hagrid didn't meet my eyes as he grunted and offered me another cup of tea. I reread the article again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. I remembered back to my trip. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?
As I walked back to the castle for dinner, my mind was racing with all the thoughts going through it. Had Hagrid collected the little brown paper wrapped package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something that I didn't?
I couldn't concentrate on dinner as I kept sneaking furtive glances at Gryffindor Table. Hermione looked slightly downtrodden. I put aside anything dealing with her and turned back around.
I was in the common room later that night, fidgety and wanting my book back. I decided I would walk to the staffroom to ask Professor Snape for Quidditch Through the Ages back. I knocked, but there was no answer, so I knocked again. I waited and waited, but after another few minutes of nothing, I knocked again, harder this time.
The door flew open to a livid looking Professor Snape standing with tense shoulders and one hand holding onto it.
"What, Potter," he hissed. I was, all of a sudden, reminded strongly of Uncle Vernon. I shrunk with fear and stepped back.
"N-n-nothing. Sorry t-t-o dist-t-t-turb you, s-s-sir," I said, sounding incredible like Professor Quirrel. I turned and practically ran back to the Slytherin common room. I didn't hear the sigh of deep sorrow and regret as I turned the corner at the end of the hall.
The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of delicious smells, but I could eat none of the smell's origins. My stomach was flip-flopping around with nerves and I couldn't get Snape's furious expression out of my head. I had even had a nightmare about it. Uncle Vernon had morphed into the Professor as the dream progressed. It was horrifying. I was possibly the only one not completely looking forward to the Quidditch match.
"You've got to eat some breakfast."
"I don't want anything."
"Just a bit of toast," Amy bargained.
"I'm not hungry." In fact, I felt terrible. In an hours time, I would be down on the field, humiliating myself in front of the entire school, and then some.
"Izzy, you need your strength," some older Slytherin down the table said, bathing his sausages in ketchup. "Seekers are always the players who get clobbered by the other team."
"Gee, thanks. That totally makes me feel better," I snarked before turning away and laying my head down on the table.
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. A lot of them had binoculars. 'The better to see me embarrass myself with,' I thought. The seats may have been raised, but it was still difficult to see everything.
Joey, Amy, Blaise, and Gino had made a giant banner with a slithering snake and 'Go Izzy!' painted on it in shimmering silver and emerald paint.
The team changed into out green and silver robes and when we were done, Marcus cleared his throat. His speech was short, and to the point. "Let's go out there and win!" We cheered and then walked out onto the pitch.
I could see Fred and George off to the side, waiting for Madam Hooch to blow the whistle. They looked slightly happy to see me looking at them and paying attention to them, and smiled welcomingly at me. I turned away.
Hooch blew on her whistle harshly and we all pushed off the ground, rising on our brooms rapidly. I could hear one of Fred and George's friend commentating, but paid no attention to it. I was maybe five minutes into the game when I saw the snitch. It was brightly shimmering, glinting in the sun. I raced at it in excitement. I was almost there! I reached my arm out, ready to grab it when I got close enough. My fingers barely brushed it and -WHAM!
There was a cheer below as I was roughly blocked by one of the Gryffindor Chasers. I spun off and nearly fell off my broom, but I held tightly and soon regained control of my broom. Marcus was yelling about a fowl, but was refused, due to the fact that he was being rude about it. There were more cheers from the Gryffindor side and boos from the Slytherin Side.
I could hear the commentating and knew we were losing, rapidly. I knew I had to get the snitch and get it fast.
All of a sudden, my broom gave an almighty jerk. For a split second, I thought I was going to fall. I gripped my broom tightly with my hands and knees. I'd never felt anything like that before.
It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck me off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck off their riders. I tried to turn back toward the Slytherin goal posts - I had half a mind to ask Marcus to call a time out -and then I realized that my broom was completely out of my control. I couldn't turn it. I couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated me.
No one noticed. The twin's friend was still commentating.
3rd person POV
Somewhere down below, Hermione Granger was running through the stands toward Professor Snape, hoping to distract him from cursing the best friend she'd ever had. Even if Izzy was all of a sudden ignoring her, she would always be loyal to the Slytherin girl. She didn't stop to apologize as she plowed into Professor Quirrel, knocking the squirrel-y professor into the front row. Hermione kneeled behind Professor Snape and pulled out her wand. She cast a spell that brought forth fire and caught Snape's cloak on fire. It caused the desired reaction and Izzy's broom returned to it's normal state.
IPOV
Rather suddenly - much like how it started - the terrible lurching stopped. I regained balance and turned my broom around. I could see Fred and George below me, circling still. I looked around some more until a flash of glimmering gold. I sped down, toward it. MY mouth was wide open. I was breathing hard from my earlier struggles. The snitch made an unexpected reverse and flew right into my mouth.
I sped up, hoping to make it to the ground before I choked to death on the small golden ball. I landed and immediately went down on all fours. I coughed, one hand over my mouth. The snitch dislodged and fell into my open hand. I stared at it for a split second before raising it into the air.
"I've got the Snitch!" I yelled, waving it above my head. The game ended in complete confusion.
Twenty minutes later, I could still hear Oliver Wood yelling about me not catching it, but nearly swallowing it. Fred and George were telling him to shut his mouth.
Hermione and Weasley had made their way out of the stands and were running toward me. Hermione threw her arms around me. I stiffened. Hermione stepped back with a hurt look on her face.
"Izzy?" She asked.
"Yes," I answered coldly.
"Why…" She swallowed. "Why are you acting like this?"
"Hmm.." I pretended to think. "Maybe because you replaced me with Weasley?" I snapped. Hermione flinched.
"You weren't replaced!" Weasley finally barked at me. I looked to Hermione for confirmation.
"You weren't. Ron just apologized. I thought… I thought we could all three be friends. He's not that bad. Really, he's not," she said quickly.
I sighed, softening at the desperation I could hear in Hermione's voice. I looked at Weasley with trepidation, deciding whether or not I could trust him. Finally, after a few more seconds of staring at him, I decided I could if Hermione could.
I looked back to Hermione and nodded. She threw her arms back around me. This time I hugged back with a small smile on my face.
"Oh, Izzy. I'm sorry you thought I was replacing you," she apologized. I waved it off.
"It's okay. I just over think things sometimes. I should have asked you what was going on when I saw Ron sitting where I normally sit."
"Sorry about that…" Ron said slowly. "I should have sat on Hermione's other side."
I looked at Ron and smile. "It's fine," I said shortly.
We walked down to Hagrid's cabin and, after introducing him to my friends, was made some strong, black tea.
"It was Snape," Ron was explaining. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broom, muttering. He wouldn't take his eyes off you."
"Rubbish," Hagrid and I said at the same time. I shut my mouth and let him talk. "Why would he do something like that?" I nodded in agreement. Up until recently, Professor Snape had been the nicest person to me.
Ron and Hermione looked at each, incredulous. Finally, they looked away, shaking their heads. We sat in silence, finishing our tea.
End Chapter TBC
DUDE! I'm so flippin' sorry, y'all, about how long this took. For cereal. Cyber cookies and hugs for everyone, no strings attached. And um, cyber cake for anyone who reviews. Love y'all. Peace out mother smudgers!