Prologue

Most children would be excited to learn they were secretly a witch or wizard.

They would be excited to attend a school of witchcraft and wizardry. They would learn proper spells, charms and all other sorts of magical things. They would be around other witches and wizards, and for those that thought they were merely non-magical (Muggles), this would be even more exciting for them. They would finally have a place that felt like home to them, a haven for them. They would find countless friends at the school, and all would be right for the world.

I was like those children, for a mere hour ago I had been saved from my abusive aunt and uncle. I had been taken away from the worn out lighthouse shack they had hidden us in, in order to avoid the owl delivering letters of acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I had been taken away from having to do all the chores in the house till my hands bled and I would become blackened and blued if I didn't do them the exact way that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wanted them to be done. Especially if I didn't do it by a set time period.

I was confused when the rickety boat that was being pulled by the half-giant that saved me, Rubeus Hagrid, finally arrived back to the shoreline. There was a strange looking man waiting for me on the shoreline, dressed in bright colored robes. He had long, thick wavy white hair that fell down his back and a long, quite impressive, lengthened beard that had been tied at the bottom with a bright ribbon. Glasses that were half mooned rested on his long nose, and there was a twinkling in his blue eyes as though he thought sweetened words full of sugar would cure any confusion.

Once the boat stopped on the man-made beach, I hopped out of the boat.

I hadn't expected anything of this sort to happen on my 11th birthday, but here I was.

Finding out that I was a witch, and that my parents had died trying to protect me from You-Know-Who, a dark wizard that wanted to make sure I couldn't grow up and defeat him. They hadn't died in a car wreck caused by my dad, James, because he was drinking on a rainy day. My mother wasn't a drug addict that cared more about her next hit instead of her daughter.

"Ah, Miss Potter, I am glad that Hagrid has found you. I am Albus Dumbledore, I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have come to collect you and send you to your new home with a magical family, and to tell you the last thing you must do before you can attend my school," Dumbledore declared, in a soft and soothing manner though his words did not send any smooth assurances my way. Instead it gave me the opposite effect.

Still, I trailed after him, with Hagrid next to me. I was very small compared to most children my age, I had stunted growth due to my abuse, and was very underweight. There were always broken bones, along with deep tissue bruises. Glasses I wore that belonged to my dad, James, were too large on my nose and face. They were the only thing that I had from him, and the prescription was incredibly off so I couldn't see anyway with them on.

Eventually we reached what looked like a normal decorated house.

We entered through the back door of the house, Dumbledore waving hello to the elderly couple that were sitting in front of the fireplace, reading books. They had what looked like actual wands sitting on the side table between the both of them, and they glanced at me…their eyes widening…as they whispered that the Girl-Who-Lived was in their house. They were peering at me as though I had stopped a great plague or had walked on water like Jesus did.

"Come, Dorea. Take my hand, we're going to someplace safe," Dumbledore declared, earning a biting of my lip before I stepped forward and took his hand. He picked up what looked like powder from a small rounded bowl sitting next to the fireplace.

"Gringotts Bank! Diagon Alley!"

My eyes widened as he threw the powder into the fireplace, which soon turned into a vibrant green. I almost rooted my worn out shoes onto the wooden floorboard underneath me, declaring I wouldn't go through the fireplace. He tugged me along so fast that I didn't have time to react when we went through the fire and I was spat out again.

I was stumbling and almost fell to the marble flooring, but I was soon straightened up and I looked around me. My mouth hung open in reverence at the oval lobby of a bank, one I had never thought existed. The stonework of the bank was flawless, there were large windows that were carved in the dome of the bank, without any glass. Just sunlight came shimmering through. Seven fireplaces were behind me, depositing people that were coming to do bank business or just those that were coming through the fireplace as another means to arrive at Diagon Alley.

In the middle of the lobby there was a crescent shaped counter that was very tall, and behind the counter there were wrinkled creatures with crooked ears, sharp noses, tufts of hair on their heads, and molecules sitting on one of their eyes for them to do the work in front of them. They were Goblins I would soon learn, and were in charge of the money in the London Branch of the magical world. They didn't put up with any mischief and were very protective of money.

Dumbledore strode over to where one of the goblins were, who had turned and noticed them.

He didn't seem too thrilled with seeing the headmaster but he wasn't completely disappointed. Apparently Dumbledore had an appointment but I didn't know why he had to bring me here, unless he was making sure that I would have proper money for school.

As they began to talk about bank business my eyes traveled over all the different magical people around me. The women were wearing gloves and robes that were conservative but were still pretty stunning. The men wore their nicest robes over their chosen ensemble. Children were walking with their parents, and their parents or guardians were listening to them. Some of them stopped and pointed at me, whispering to each other about me. I was their Savior, but I didn't want to be.

"Ah yes, I am here, to represent as Miss Potter's Magical Guardian. We have an appointment with the Weasleys," Dumbledore declared, which in return made me frown at what he was saying. I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, something wasn't adding up.

"Yes, yes. Paperwork, then Griphook will take you to the proper meeting room," the goblin remarked, seeming not that interested in anything Dumbledore said.

After the paperwork was sorted, another goblin came up, sending a nod towards Dumbledore with respect. Dumbledore gave a warm smile towards him, but the goblin didn't seem as though he was that intrigued or impressed with what he was seeing in front of him. He merely motioned for us to follow him, as he put his hands behind his back and led us down a corridor where there were other matters of business that were happening within the bank at the same time.

When we arrived at the large, imposing silver doors of the meeting room I was amazed with the detailed carvings in the silver doors. An animated dragon was flying across the top of the door while below it there were piles of coins. Every now and then the dragon would send out fire, as though to ask others to oppose him if they dared.

The doors opened without needing to be pushed open and I gradually entered the meeting room with one long marble table that was in the middle of the room and multiple chairs framing the table. A couple were standing on the left side of the room, with their son. All three of them were red-haired and they were dressed in worn out clothes, on the last leg of being worn. They must be the Weasleys, the ones Dumbledore must have been talking about.

I barely was able to take in the sight of them before the woman came running over to me, happiness in her brown eyes. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me, which in return made me flinch because I was still recovering from having my ribs being bruised by Dudley when he and his friends decided to chase me after school. I got sent to the cupboard afterwards and Dudley, along with his friends, were able to eat some ice cream for being good boys.

"Um…who are you?"

The woman frowned as she pulled away, her eyes taking in me properly. She widened her eyes at the sight of my malnourishment and turned her attention towards Dumbledore. She narrowed her eyes at him before she turned and looked at me.

"My name is Molly, Molly Weasley. That's my husband, Arthur over there and that's my son, Ron. He's your age. My husband and I were best friends with your parents," Molly informed me before she led me towards the multiple chairs. She sat me down in one of the chairs before she went around the table and sat directly vertical of me. Ron was sitting directly across from me.

Ron was looking awkward, like I was, as if he didn't want to be here to begin with.

At least that was something I could agree with him.

I didn't see a reason for me being here, though I did wonder if Dumbledore had known of what the Dursleys were doing to me, since he was my Magical Guardian and could have come, rescued me and sent me to live somewhere safer. I could have already adapted to the magical world around me, and I would get my letter without having to go through all these hurdles.

"As all parties of the contract are here, with their legal guardians, we shall begin. Lord James and Lily Potter of the Ancient and Most Noble House, have left all their possessions for their daughter, Dorea Lily Potter. They will be opened and given to Dorea when she turns seventeen. Until then a certain amount of money will be given to her so that she does not have to worry about anything she might need yearly."

"E…Excuse me, Mr. Griphook?"

Mr. Griphook glanced up from the paper he was looking at, a little annoyed at having been interrupted when he was preceding over this meeting, but seemed pleased with how I was addressing him by his name and not calling him Mr. Goblin like other children would do so because they weren't paying attention or cared to remember it.

"I was wondering, if my mum and dad had left that money for me, how come I never received the allowance that was supposed to be given to me yearly? I have been living with my aunt and uncle all this time and I don't think we got any money."

"It says in our records that Albus Dumbledore did indeed draw out the allowance that is there. He must not have told you. Now, may we move on to the next stage of our proceedings?" Mr. Griphook probed, his eyes scanning over the other witch and the wizards in the room.

"Of course, Griphook."

A part of me wanted to open my mouth and bring back the whole allowance thing but I did want to know what else was being hidden from me. I turned my attention towards Ron, noting how he was looking at me with blushes upon his freckled cheekbones. He ducked his head, his many layers of red hair had been combed down but his hair wasn't groomed down anymore. He had been playing with his hair and now it was a complete mess.

"Ah, here we are. The betrothal contract between Dorea Lily Potter and Ronald Bilius Weasley, will come into effect once both legal guardians of the children sign the form, and then the children. Once they are both fifteen they will be married and their assets will be combined," Mr. Griphook declared, before he handed the contract to the Weasleys first. They signed it without any issues while I sat there, stunned, and my face completely devoid of color.

Dumbledore signed the contract next before Ron signed it, awkwardly, but still willing for his parents. I grit my teeth but an electric energy came over me, fuzzy. I could see some of my hair in the corner of my eye floating up in front of me, as though I was under water. Everyone in the room became silent and shocked at the fact that my hair was floating around me, the magic signature letting them know I would not be pleased with how my life was being determined.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, gaining the attention of Molly and Arthur briefly. "Excuse, Dorea, she has had a tiring day. You may go ahead and go back to The Burrow. She'll sign it in a moment, and then the contract will be in effect."

As soon as the red haired couple and their child was gone, I turned and looked at Dumbledore. "What was that about? Why am I getting engaged to a random boy I don't know? Did my parents decide for this to happen or did you?"

Dumbledore calmly sat there, his fingers rubbing against his beard, as he waited for my seething to stop. He nodded his head a moment later, once my hair was beginning to fall down gradually.

"I'm the one who created the betrothal contract with you and Ronald Weasley, not your parents. You will sign the contract or else you will not be attending Hogwarts, I will have your magic taken away from you, and you will stay with your aunt and uncle. Do not think I do not know the ways of taking away magic, it's not completely impossible."

Knowing I needed to calm down completely, I closed my eyes and allowed my magic to sink back into me. A small part of me, a very small sliver, ignited itself within my soul. I promised myself that I would make sure Dumbledore would feel my wrath, and regret ever deciding to threaten me. I promised to find a way to seek revenge against him.

The moment I signed my name on the contract, I signed away any possibility of doing things for others. I would only do what I saw fit for myself.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: please read and review for this story along with my other two Harry Potter fanfictions if you read them. It keeps me motivated to write them, since I'm more accustomed to writing for Twilight. Dorea will decide who she wants to be with, not to be with Ron. She's going to be with Adrian Pucey. A sexy Slytherin. She's going to be in Slytherin, obviously. She is not putting up with anyone's shit. Hermione is going to be in Slytherin too. She'll take over Tracey Davis, cause honestly, I couldn't care less about her.

The Slytherins are good guys. Voldemort is a good guy, just went crazy. Dorea has to act like she's on Dumbledore's side until the Tournament but honestly, she couldn't care less what Voldemort does. She just wants her freedom.

as always: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

-it'semmynotemma