Author's Note: Hi! This is my very first fanfiction attempt, let alone a crossover with Fem!Harry. This will be based on the 1996 Matilda, but will take place in the UK. Fem!Harry, of course, is Matilda, and the Dursleys are the Wormwoods.

Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter go to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Matilda goes to Roald Dahl, TriStar Pictures, FilmFlex, and Sony Pictures Releasing.

Chapter 1

Harriet's Introduction

Everyone is born. But not everyone is born the same. Some might grow up to be police officers, or doctors, or teachers. Some may only be good at collecting various candies. One way or another, though, every human being is unique, for better or for worse.

When it comes to children, most parents see theirs as the most special miracle to ever happen in their lives. Others, however, take a less emotional approach. Take Vernon and Petunia Dursley for example. They'd had their second child, a girl they named Harriet, and weren't exactly thrilled with her. You see, Vernon, Petunia, and their son Dudley lived in a very nice neighborhood in Surrey, England, in a very nice house marked Number 4. But they were not really very nice people. In fact, the Dursleys were so wrapped up in their own silly lives that they barely acknowledged the fact that they had a daughter in the family. Had they paid any attention to her (besides their negative attention), they might have noticed that she was a rather extraordinary child. For example, at 18 months, she had perfect speech and coordination skills. At one point, she drew the letter H in some baby food she spilled on her high chair tray. But her mother, being the ignorant and bitter woman she was, only scolded her young daughter for making a mess and wiped it up without even noticing the H.

By the time she was two, Harriet had learned what most people would learn in their early adult years: How to take care of herself. As time went by, she developed a sense of style. Then, at the age of three, it was all figured out.

Every weekday, Harriet's older brother Dudley went to school. Her father went to work repairing used cars and selling them for unfair prices. And her mother went off to her neighborhood friend group. Aside from the babysitter, Mrs. Figg, who more often than not would fall asleep in a chair when she came into the house, Harriet was left alone. And that was how she liked it. One morning, she prepared a perfect breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and porridge. Mrs. Figg would've asked Harriet how she was so skilled and smart, but she was a bit absent minded and forgetful for her old age. So she concluded that Harriet's parents had helped her learn what she knew.

By the time she was four, Harriet had read every magazine, newspaper, and business book in the house. One night when she had gotten up her courage, she asked her father for something she'd been wanting for a long time.

"Daddy', she asked, 'could you please get me my own books?"

"Books?", Mr. Dursley asked. "What do you want your own books for?"

"To read."

"To read?! What's the use of getting more books for the house if you have the telly set right here? I say there's nothing you can get from a book faster than you can get from the telly. Now that's enough talk, get to bed, girl."

Rudley butting in, Dudley sharply pushed Harriet out of the television's view. "Out of the way, Freak! I can't see!", he snapped

Harriet already knew she was somewhat different from her family. She'd learned if she wanted anything in this world, she'd have to get it herself.