The Potter Twins and the Philosopher's Stone

Story: The Potter Twins and the Philosopher's Stone
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Fantasy
Author: Meiaideas12
Last updated: 01/10/2017
Words: 72343
Rating: T
Status: In Progress
Content: Chapter 1 to 24 of 24 chapters

Summary: A 20-year-old American woman is reincarnated as Heather Lily Potter, Harry's twin sister. She desperately wants to use the memories from her past life to alter canon events, but there are powerful figures at work with devious plans of their own. How will Heather cope in the magical world? AU. SI. Reincarnation. Twinfic. *INDEFINITE HIATUS*

*Chapter 1*: Prologue: She's a Contrivance

First Draft posted: 9/8/16

First Revision posted: 10/12/16

Second Revision posted: 11/13/16


- Mostly Canon 1st Book but STILL AU


- Bullying, Child Abuse, Some Violence

- Reincarnation

- Self-Insert (semi-Mary Sue) MC


COPYRIGHT STATEMENT: *If you recognize any familiar lines they belong to the lovely JK Rowling, not me. Only the OC and unrecognized plot bits are mine.*

Prologue: She's a Contrivance

The Divine Realm

The Divine Realm is a place beyond time, beyond the boundaries of the individual Universes, and a place of immeasurable power – where ancient and formidable beings reside. It is a place that accepts mortals, both good and evil, that have proven themselves worthy of the ultimate privilege – joining a true God's hierarchical body. A body that consists of multiple mortals, each given a certain rank and duty, that aid the God in his minute manipulations of the Universes. Now, each Universe has an original, a canon Universe, that follows a certain stream of events without any manipulation at all. Any interference with an original Universe results in banishment from the divine realm and repeated reincarnation as the simplest of lifeforms – multiple lifetimes of unavoidable nothingness. As such, there has only been one banishment from the Divine Realm since the beginning of time.

Although the original Universes are untouchable, their parallels have few restrictions, which means that the Gods and their chosen mortals are free to play with and influence them as they please. Currently, one such parallel Universe is being carefully examined by individuals that were brought to the Divine Realm many centuries ago. They, just like all of the other mortals in the Divine Realm, were born into and died in an original Universe before a God chose them as his aids. Such restrictions ensure that only the true versions, rather than doppelgangers (those copies that reside in the parallel Universes) are allowed access to the Realm.

Four important mortals with powerful positions in the hierarchy of their God's people, are sitting around a large marble table. They are staring intently into a shallow dish that rests in the center, the dish is filled with the purest of waters and flickering images. They are watching important scenes from their last attempt at manipulating a Harry Potter Parallel Universe.

The dish displays dead faces, one after another, before settling on a Grandfatherly one. The old man is lying face down at the top of an ancient tower and a pale young man is pointing a thin wand at his body. In the background a pale woman with black hair is dancing around calling, "He did it! He did it! Draco managed to do it!"

The image changes, this time showing a very young Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, they are bent over the body of a young curly haired brunette girl – a girl that they were too late to save when a troll rampaged during their first year.

The water flashes again, and this time the bodies of two influential people are displayed. Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort dueled during the Battle of Hogwarts, but instead of Harry being able to truly get rid of Lord Voldemort, and live… they both died when one of Lord Voldemort's Avada Kedavra spells rebounded against Harry's.

One of the seated figures stands up - he has long untamed wavy brown hair, a short beard, and carries a magnificent sword with a shimmering ruby hilt on his hip. He is dressed in a fine leather garb with red embroidery around his collar and down his sleeves.

In a booming and very commanding voice, he says to the others, "This should be the last time that we send her so far back into the past – obviously her dying before the first and second Wizarding Wars is ineffective."

A stout and sturdy older woman, with brown hair pulled tightly back into a bun, and dressed in very old fashioned yellow hued dress replies, "That may be true – but we were so close this time. Surely, that is considered a victory in our books?"

He nods, "It is, but how many lives could have been saved if we had placed our Instigator closer to the center of events?"

She frowns, "That's true – we did lose many fine Hufflepuffs this time around."

He sighs, "We lost many fine witches and wizards, period."

She protests, "Don't pretend like you don't favor those Gryffindors! We all see your worried expressions every time we view a War."

A second woman, dressed in an old fashioned black dress with blue embroidery and long dark brown hair cuts in, "Would you two stop it! We need to get back to the true matter at hand, the reason why we keep altering events in the 20th century – Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle."

Godric, for it is he, answers with a sigh, "Both are dead in this version of the world, so they won't do any further damage here."

Rowena nods, "I know we all want to interfere more in this Universe, but maybe we should give it a little bit of a break – let it reorient itself. I mean, Helga is right, this wasn't a bad ending."

Helga smiles, "It certainly wasn't the 'happy ending' we are aiming for. Wasn't the whole purpose this time, that our Instigator stop Tom Riddle before he even became Lord Voldemort? Obviously, she wasn't able to do that – she failed yet again."

Godric frowns, "True, but she's earned a bit of a break," he grins deviously and glances at their fourth companion, "I sent her to a muggle-only Universe for some respite."

The last occupant, a man with long black hair and piercing grey eyes, clenches his hand into a fist as a grimace crosses his face, "How dare you!"

Godric starts laughing in a full-bellied manner, provoking Salazar into an angry fit is one of his favorite pastimes.

He continues to taunt him, "What are you going to do about it? Oh that's right – nothing, because it's the punishment that both of you deserve."

Salazar relaxes his hand slightly, asking, "HE approved her descent into that Universe?"

Rowena nods, "He did. He mentioned that placing her in that particular Universe would be exceedingly useful."

Helga asks, "Did he say why?"

Rowena hums thoughtfully, "I think it has something to do with his new plan. He wants to start approaching our manipulations in a slightly different manner."

Salazar growls, "Doesn't he realize that no matter what we do – she's always failed most of her missions?"

Godric exclaims, "Of course he does! He oversees everything, everyone and every Universe! But he still expects her to succeed in her next Parallel."

Rowena nods, "Besides, he's come up with some new tests for her next mission."

Salazar asks warily, "What type of tests?"

Godric looks over at Rowena who answers, "He didn't specify. He just mentioned that these were designed to overcome some of her more permanent flaws."

Salazar asks in resignation, "You mean her personality traits that always seem to emerge in every life that she's lived, don't you? Those traits that make her, well… her?"

Rowena nods and a sad smile appears on her face, "I am sorry about that. But once she dies those traits will probably reemerge."

A slow knowing grin rises to Salazar's face, "But she's been tested before… and we all know how prominent her personality characteristics are – they always remain."

Godric snaps, "If he says the tests will get rid of those traits than they will!"

Rather than arguing further, Salazar decides to change the subject abruptly, "Of course, of course. And how long did he say that will she remain in the muggle Universe?"

Rowena waves her hand over the dish in the center of their table causing a tiny girl with blonde hair and bright purple eyes to appear in the water, "I'd say another 17 years."

A small frown appears on Helga's face, "Must she always die so young?"

Godric shrugs his shoulders, "It wouldn't be a punishment if she got to live a full life. Besides, it's a part of her duty as our Instigator."

*Chapter 2*: The Beginning

First Draft Posted: 9/8/16

First Revision Posted: 10/12/16

Second Revision Posted: 11/28/16

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Divine Realm

A pale figure with unidentifiable features and a dark black robe, exudes waves of dark energy and coldness. He leans over the tall marble table and peers into the shallow dish resting peacefully at its center. The image of a blonde and dainty twenty-year-old girl, who is scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, appears in the water.

The dark figure glances over at his underling who is crinkling his hands in obvious discomfort and nervousness, "Is this the girl?"

Godric nods, before realizing that his Master didn't see the motion, he is staring too intently at the girl, "It is, Master."

The figure chuckles deeply, causing a shiver to race down Godric's spine, "Good. She will die within a couple of days. Be ready."

He leans over and taps one very pale and bony finger to the pure water. Creepily, a foul stench and black fog rises from the top of the water as it slowly darkens into a murky grey. As a low scream resounds through the room, originating from the dish, the cloaked figure chuckles and walks away from the table. He closes the door behind him, leaving Godric alone with the horribly shrill cries.

Parallel Universe

July 31, 1980

I was 20 years old when I died. I had just begun to work out some of the finer details of young adulthood. Excelling in my classes throughout University was one of the things that I did best and it showed; I was supposed to graduate a year early with my Bachelor's degree in Chemistry. The acceptance letter to Harvard Medical School was sitting in the top drawer of my desk, unseen by anyone except myself. I was eagerly waiting to present it to my family, to show them that their money and efforts in raising me hadn't been in vain. The certainty that I was going to get everything out of life that I wanted was strong.

However, the last thing that I remember from that life, was being out during a small hurricane where rough winds were tossing about debris and torrential rain was making it difficult to see. I'm not sure why I was out in such awful conditions, but I know that I was crying desperately and wandering without direction. The crying, was ultimately my downfall, because it prevented me from seeing the huge branch that came hurtling towards me. It struck my head painfully and resulted in instant death. That definitely, wasn't the way that I expected my young life to end.

When I come to, I'm trapped in a dark and cramped space, barely able to move my limbs.

Where am I? Why is it so dark? Why am I so warm?

I try opening my eyes, hoping that the branch was just a dream, and that this feeling of claustrophobia is a result of my blankets wrapped tightly around me in bed.

Why can't I open my eyes?

I try taking a deep breath, wanting to calm the anxiety that is welling within me.

Why can't I breathe!?

The realization that I'm not breathing causes me to panic, my limbs flail about, as much as they can within the confined space. I hit something next to me and it flinches away from my desperate movements.

What is that? Why do I feel like I shouldn't hit it?

I try to relax my body, sensing that flailing about will be bad for both myself and this soft presence next to me.

Maybe I can move my arms slowly and feel where I am?

I stretch both my hands and feet out carefully, feeling around the cramped area. They quickly come into contact with a solid barrier, which I push against forcefully, wondering if it will give way. It moves in a rippling sensation and I hear a muffled voice above me say, "One of them is kicking me again but not as frantically."

Kicking? Wait a minute… I'm not breathing, I can't open my eyes, I'm in a dark and confined space yet the walls move, and I can hear voices above me? Am I… Am I a baby?

A memory rushes through my mind. It's fuzzy and I can't make anything out, but a voice calls out from amongst the blurriness, "Your time in that world is up. Accept your new fate and don't fail us again."

New fate? Fail them again? What is the voice talking about?

The dark world that I'm currently residing in shifts. The walls begin closing in around me and eventually the comforting yet vague presence next to me disappears.

I'm alone.

For what feels like a lifetime, I'm alone in the dark being squeezed by vice-like walls; it's like they are trying to crush the life out of me, and once again I begin to panic.

Am I going to die? No, no, calm down. If you're a baby that means…

Finally, the walls squeeze me one last time and I'm released from the dark.

It's cold! It's so cold! No! I don't like this! Stop!

I hear a strong wail in the background of this new and very cold place which causes me to let out my own shrill cry.

Why am I crying just because I heard another baby crying?

Small yet firm hands grasp at my body and carefully set me down. I'm brought into contact with cold metal, and a shiver races down my body; I faintly note that I'm still screaming. Afterwards I'm wrapped in something soft and fluffy which I recognize as a blanket. I'm then carried across the room and settled into someone's arms. I peer into the first blurry face that I'm actually given time to look at. She's beaming down at me, obviously exhausted but still smiling. The lady has gorgeous green eyes and cascading red hair.

She's beautiful.

"Hello Heather," she says quietly.

Heather. I like it.

I close my eyes as exhaustion hits me.

6 months later…

My name is Heather Lily Potter. I was born on July 31, 1980. For some strange reason I was sent here, to the world of Harry Potter, with my previous life's memories fully intact. I'm Harry's little sister, and I'm perfectly aware that some shitty events will be taking place in a couple of months. The only problem is… my development isn't much faster than a normal baby! I know this because of the constant surveillance that I keep my brother under. I calmly take note of everything that he is capable of doing and compare it to my own progress. When I'm not monitoring Harry, I am staring into the faces of my mother and father. I can't help it, I know their fates and I probably won't be able to stop it. So I want to remember them, I want to be able to comfort Harry when he's older and doesn't remember anything about them. I will tell him all about our lives with them and how they loved us dearly. I'll remember them for the both of us.


I drag my eyes away from Harry in order to look at my loving mother. Lily is exactly as I pictured her when I read the Harry Potter novels. She is slim with light amber locks that have hints of gold, and she almost always radiates positivity and sweetness. As I look at her, I swing back and forth in my rocking cradle. She bends towards me grasping a bottle in her hands. I refused to breastfeed when I was about 3 months old, knowing that my brother would need all the extra growing that he could get. Not to mention, it was kind of embarrassing, I mean, I remember having my own breasts! I use my flimsy hand to cling onto the bottle that she offers, and holding it between my chest and my hand, I suck greedily. While I drink from the bottle, Lily picks up Harry and begins feeding him as well.

Over the past couple of months, I have noticed something interesting about our parents. They handle Harry and me completely differently, especially when it comes to magic. Lily hardly ever uses magic in front of Harry and I, instead she painstakingly cares for us in the muggle way. James, on the other hand, uses magic all of the time. He even bought Harry and me toy flying carpets! It's kind of outrageous seeing as we can barely sit up on our own. Of course, this echoes Lily's own misgivings, but Sirius backed James up, insisting that Harry and I need to get used to flying at a young age. The pair of them want us to become professional Quidditch players. They argued that Harry and I don't even need to sit up to fly on the carpets. Which is true, we can simply lay down on them and the safety charm prevents us from rolling off. The other Marauders chose not to get involved in the argument – insisting that it's up to the parents to decide when their children can fly.

The Marauders are a group, consisting of our godfather Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, our father - James Potter, and that rat Peter Pettigrew. They are as close today as they were when they attended Hogwarts. They are always joking, playing games and pranking one another. Recently I've noticed that they are more subdued and wary; their eyes no longer shine with innocence, and they aren't as rambunctious as they were when Harry and I were first born. My conclusion is that the First War against Voldemort is reaching its peak, and they are feeling its effects.

Anyways, today was a particularly bad day for my family.

This morning, James came rushing into the house screaming for Lily, Harry and I. When he found the three of us cuddled in my parent's bed he burst into relieved tears.

Lily jumped out of bed and rushed over to him, "James… James… What's happened?"

"He's coming for us. He thinks that Harry is the child in that prophecy – the one that Dumbledore mentioned!" James practically yelled.

Harry started crying at the tone in James' voice because we have rarely heard either of our parents scream. I nestled closer to him, hoping to offer some comfort but it didn't work.

Originally I thought that Lily would soothe James' fears, but I soon realized that even Lily was feeling the effects of the war. She was unable to comfort him, instead she broke down into tears as well. The two of them sat there on the ground holding one another and weeping. It's then that I realize, they are fighting a war and yet they're they same age that I was when I died. It's kind of a shock – in my previous life all I had to worry about was getting an A on my next test and finding good volunteer opportunities.

Eventually Lily was able to ask, "What are we going to do? Where are we going to go? We have to protect them!"

Our parents turned towards the bed and with swift movements they had the pair of us in their arms. I was in James' grasp and Harry in Lily's. Our tiny family huddled together on the bed, Lily and James crying in fear and Harry because he's a baby. I closed my eyes listening to their cries; my own beginning to well up in sadness. As I thought more about the hopelessness of our situation tiny tears slid down my cheeks.

I can't believe they're going to die. I had hoped that my presence here would change something! Possibly make Voldemort choose another family, one with less children. However, it seems that I haven't affected anything yet.

6 months later…

"Moo!" I shout scrambling to throw myself onto the legs of Remus as he enters the living room.

"Heather" he says affectionately, lifting me up into his arms. I hug his neck tightly, peering over his shoulder so I can see the other man standing behind him.

"Hey squirt," Sirius says as he ruffles my hair, "Where's your big brother?"

Remus moves us towards the couch while I try to talk to Sirius, "Harry… there!"

I gesture towards the kitchen where Harry is in the arms of Lily. She is cooking because we expected all of the Marauders to be here tonight. After the Order of the Phoenix learned about the prophecy and Voldemort's intent to attack our family, we were placed in Godric's Hollow. Our house is specially protected under the Fidelius charm, and Dumbledore himself even offered to be our secret keeper. Unfortunately, once again the Potters refused his offer and chose someone else. At the same time, Dumbledore ordered that we not leave the premise for any reason. He said that leaving would make it more likely for our location to be revealed or for one of us to be attacked. I know that he was stating this specifically for James' sake. He hates being cooped up and is often restless, but he tries his best for our sake. That's why we have the Marauders over as much as we can; after one of their visits James will settle down for a couple of days.

I hear the front door close and wait patiently for the last Marauder to enter the room. When I see Peter, I immediately sit up straight in Remus' lap.

"Ewwwww!" I shout glaring at him.

Sirius laughs, "Seems like she still hates you Wormtail!" Sirius had taken Harry from Lily in order for her to cook easier.

The two of them flop down onto the couch next to Remus and me.

I hate the affection in his voice when he addresses the rat man. Ever since that night, six months ago when we learned about the prophecy, I have adamantly refuted Peter's presence. I know that he is the one who is going to betray my family next, the reason why Voldemort is going to be able to find us. Every time he tried to talk to me, touch me or interact with Harry, I immediately screamed, tried to hit him, or kicked him. When I was capable of speech, I was as rude to him as possible. He's always been confused regarding my unfounded anger, and in the beginning, I think that my rejection hurt his feelings. Yet over the past couple of months, he has grown used to it; now he ignores my abuse and listens to the advice of others. My parents and the other Marauders tell him that it is just a phase of mine, something that will pass in a couple of months. However, they don't know that my anger isn't unfounded. He actually deserves it because he's going to ruin our peaceful lives. He's the reason why Remus will be alone for years, why Sirius will be locked in Azkaban, and why… Lily and James are murdered.

Lily sighs, "Sirius don't encourage her!"

I hug Remus' neck, burying my head into his shoulder as I say, "I don't like him."

Remus looks at me with a slightly shocked expression; this is the first time that he has heard me speak a complete sentence. He only offers me a comforting pat on the back, yet again believing that I am simply a child with a prejudice against Peter.

2 months later…

It is finally the end of September… only one more month until I come face to face with Voldemort. I wonder if he is as ghastly looking as he appears in the movies?

At almost 2 o'clock in the morning, I am still laying in my fairy princess bed, wide awake and staring up at the ceiling. I can't sleep because of the guilt and sadness that are floating around in my head.

I've tried everything that I can think of to stop this train of events. I even tried telling Lily and James that Peter will betray them. They told me that it was just a bad dream, that Peter is one of their closest friends and would never be involved with Voldemort. They think my hatred and mistrust stems from some childish fear or dream. Why don't they believe me?

Tears slowly slip down my cheeks.

I love them so much. I can't imagine my life in this world without Lily and James. I want to grow up with them in my life. With them loving me, supporting me and teaching me. I don't want to have to protect Harry on my own. What if I'm not any good at it? What if I don't have any magic? And what about Remus and Sirius? I don't want them to suffer the next twelve years alone…

I glance over at one of the boys in question. Harry is sound asleep on his specially designed Quidditch bed and our flashing night light highlights his face every few seconds.

I will protect him. I will do everything in my power to protect him. We will get rid of Lord Baldy.

I close my eyes and let sleep slowly creep over me. In my dreams some of the best moments of my young life reappear.

I look over at Harry, we are 3 months old and laying side by side on our parent's bed. His black hair is thick and messy, rumpled all over the place, and his thumb is firmly stuck in his mouth as he stares up at Lily. She has a small frown on her face as she changes his smelly diaper.

I smile down at James from my position in the air. A loud giggle tumbles out of my mouth as he throws me up again and again. His boisterous laugh mingles with mine while Lily stares at us lovingly from her position on the porch.

I peer up at the faces of my two parents as they kiss affectionately. When they pull apart their love for one another is shining in their eyes.

We are 5 months old and Harry is pulling at my hair. From our position – on our stomachs in the living room, I am trying to watch Peter. Yet Harry desperately wants my attention – he is cooing and burbling at me in baby language. Sighing, I ignore Peter and turn to Harry, cooing and babbling back.

We are 6 months old and Remus is holding me onto the flying carpet that James brought home. James is holding Harry on to his and Lily is watching us anxiously from a couple of yards away. Harry and I are both laughing and clapping our hands excitedly. I love the feeling of the air moving through my hair, and having my own form of transportation. Being a baby is absolutely boring – you can't move or do anything for yourself. I look over at Harry, he is tugging on the carpet. I think that he is trying to get it to go faster.

I watch as Harry sits up and begins playing with the moving toy cars that surround us. A small red-headed boy grabs Harry's favorite one and throws it across the room. Harry frowns in obvious anger, his little face turning bright red, and his hands curling into tiny fists. He crawls towards the other boy and pushes him, causing the redhead to fall over. The little boy begins screaming, and a very pregnant woman holding her own set of twins waddles into the room. She scolds Harry and helps straighten the other boy back into his sitting position. When I look behind her I notice a large group of people, wizards and witches, sitting at a huge table. They sound like they are arguing about something. I strain my ears, trying to listen, just like I do at every Order of the Phoenix meeting that is held at our house.

We are 10 months old and Sirius is at Godric's Hollow. He has brought Harry and me some new toys. He gives me a singing and twirling ballerina doll and Harry a fierce T-Rex. The T-Rex likes to bite at our clothes, our fingers and our toes. It's actually very entertaining and it delights Harry to no end. Sirius shifts into his animagus form – a large black dog – and proceeds to give us piggyback rides. I love the feeling of his silky fur on my face and in my hands. I rub my cheek on his back as he playfully paws at Harry who is on the floor.

More tears silently fall onto the pillow beneath my head.

*Chapter 3*: F' You Baldy!

First Draft Posted: 9/8/16

First Revision Posted: 10/12/16

Second Revision posted: 11/28/16

Chapter 2: Fuck You Baldy!

Divine Realm

The Four Hogwart's Founders are once again seated at the large marble table, but this time they are talking in hushed voices.

Godric complains, "Are we positive that this is the way events must play out?"

Rowena nods, her diadem twinkling in the bright light of the room, "He specifically said that she has to suffer – they both have to suffer."

Salazar shakes his head, "He sounds like that dumb old coot – Albus Dumbledore."

Helga nods in agreement, "Didn't we say that we want to save more lives this time around?"

Rowena frowns and sadness is reflected in her voice, "All of you know that his orders are law. We have to trust that he knows what he's doing."

Godric whines, "But they're such good Gryffindors…"

Parallel Universe

October 31, 1981

Today's the day. The day that Voldemort is supposed to arrive and take the lives of my parents. Therefore, it is my utmost goal to make this a memorable day. It's my last one to relish in the completeness of my family: to drown in their love and express my own. They don't know what's supposed to happen tonight so they are all in good spirits – full of Hallow's Eve cheer.

In order to provide some entertainment for the evening, I asked Lily to make us some costumes a couple of days ago. She loved the idea even if she was a little baffled. I didn't realize at the time that she'd never mentioned the muggle tradition before, and therefore was completely surprised that I knew about it. Her confusion and curiosity disappeared when I mentioned that I'd seen people dress up for Halloween on the television. Between the two of us we decided on the perfect family costume – a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Lily and James are the bread while Harry and I are the peanut butter and Jelly. I have to admit, magic makes sewing clothes and creating costumes super easy. Sewing the costumes would have taken weeks by hand, but with magic they were done in less than two hours.

"Mom! Let's take family pictures!" I yell from my position on the living room floor.

This causes James and Sirius to groan because they have heard that statement so many times in the past month. In September, I decided that photography would be my new favorite pastime, and the Marauders and my family were my new favorite subjects. It had taken me a couple of days to convince Lily and James to let me have a wizarding camera and the special developing potion, but they eventually gave in. They bought me a child's version of the camera, pink and childish, but this didn't bother me at all. The camera does exactly what I want – captures valuable memories of my family and friends. Over the past two months, I have taken hundreds of photos, capturing each and every Potter family moment. The photo topics vary greatly: Harry and I in the bath, family breakfasts, flying on toy brooms and our parents kissing.

The many photographs quickly became my most prized possessions. They will be the only things from our family that I'll have to show Harry when we are older. As for the adults, I think that they were surprised by how many pictures I've taken, and even more so when they saw how viewable they are. My photos don't have the normal blurriness that would accompany a one year olds shaky hands.

Yesterday, I asked James to shrink down my photos and their albums in order to fit them into a tiny velvet bag, one that Lily had made while we were finishing the costumes. The velvet is a dark purple and cinches in at the top with a light yellow string; it looks very much like a tiny coin purse, but I wear it as a necklace. I don't know what charm James used, but now I'm able to carry all of my albums in the necklace and it's not heavy at all. Maybe he figured out the same spell that Hermione had in the original series, the Undetectable Extension and Feather Light charms combined. It's not something I'm concerned with right now, I'm just happy to have the photos with me and I know I'll be able to access them someday.

Lily says, "Come on James, Sirius! Let's take some family photos. I know you want to show off your costumes!"

I laugh because I was the one that insisted that Sirius dress up for Halloween too. When he showed up at our house earlier this evening, dressed as Darth Vader, Lily and I started cracking up. We shouldn't have been surprised - Star Wars is one of the only movies that Sirius has seen. Of course, Lily and I were laughing for completely different reasons – I found it morbidly ironic that he dressed up as a villain because he will be classified as one after tonight. In all honesty, Sirius makes a very good-looking Darth Vader. I can understand why James is always teasing him about all of the hearts he's conquered.

We take a couple of very cute family pictures, but my favorite is the one where Sirius is pretending to eat our family sandwich. They all turned out really well, and immediately after we are done I rush to develop them with the potion. Lily helps me with them, laughing at my anxiousness to get them all completed tonight. While the photos rest in the developing solution, we return to the rest of the family and eat hamburgers and hotdogs for dinner. Lily suggests that we watch some scary movies – which the adults, especially Sirius get excited about. For most of the movies, Harry keeps his head buried in James' stomach, but even I notice the expression of rapt fascination that he wears when a giant spider terrorizes a muggle town.

Eventually, James and Lily insist that Sirius leave. They want to put Harry and me down for bed. Before we can get started on our usual routine – where we take bathes, read stories and get good-night kisses – I ask Lily to help me put my photographs in my albums. She pulls out an album from the velvet necklace and we look cheerfully down at the many pictures from earlier this evening. I note the happiness and love that exudes from each one.

"Mom?" I ask her.

"What, Heather?" she says kindly.

"You know I love you a lot, right?"

"Of course! And I love you too!"

I steel my nerves before saying, "I'll take care of Harry."

She looks at me, confusion shinning in her eyes, "What are you talking about sweetie?"

"Nothing, Mom." I say as I wrap my arms around her waist.

I know that it's pointless to warn her again. I've tried so many times but they always ignore me – indisputable in their trust for Peter.

"Here, put this back around your neck then." Lily says as she hands me the tiny bag.

I pull the necklace over my head and she picks me up, taking me to the bathroom so that she can bathe me. Harry is already seated in the bath and James is sitting on the floor, watching him cheerfully. We play with the bubbles and toys that James enchants in order to entertain us while they scrub our hair and bodies.

After our baths, we are tucked into bed and James reads us a muggle children's book, The Little Red Hen. When he finishes and they go to kiss us good-night – I once again say, "I love you Mommy and Daddy!"

This causes Harry to call out, "Me too!"

Lily and James grin before replying, "We love you too."

I suddenly burst into tears because it has finally hit me.

I really haven't found a way to save Lily and James from death. I'm never going to see them again.

James and Lily look at each other pointedly and James sits next to me on the bed.

He pulls me into his arms and comfortingly says, "Its okay Heather, we love you very much and everything is going to be just fine."

His words only cause me to cry harder. At my very unusual behavior Lily and Harry jump in my bed too, and pull me into a family hug. Taking a deep breath I gather my courage and say, "I'm okay now."

I'm slowly released from the family hug and I look up into Lily's face. All I see there is a look of unfathomable sadness – it strikes me, I wonder if she actually knows.

No that's impossible. They would have taken us and run if they knew, if she knew.

"Okay sweetie, if you're sure. We are going to bed now. Good-night."

With one last kiss each, Lily and James leave our bedroom. Harry and I snuggle into our individual beds, and I stare up at the ceiling.

I'm scared. I don't want Voldemort to come tonight. I don't want him to come ever. I want to live a happy life with Lily, James and Harry. Why couldn't someone else be the boy-who-lived? Why couldn't he pick Neville instead?

Before long, fear and exhaustion drive me into a fitful sleep.

A couple of hours later, I awake to a sudden bang and my father yelling. "Lily! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Instantly, our mother is in the room, scrambling to shut the door behind her. While she pulls out her wand and reinforces the door with magic, I jump out of my bed and into Harry's. He has woken up too, but has no idea what's going on. He drowsily looks between Lily and me, probably wondering why we woke him up.

Forcefully, the door to our room is blown open and I flinch when I see a figure in the doorway. He is wearing long black wizard's robes with his hood pulled over his head. My eyes widen when I realize that his face isn't as snake-like as it was portrayed in the films, but his crimson-red eyes are freaky enough.

Maybe because that's still his own body?

Voldemort brandishes his eerie bone-like wand at Lily, who is standing firmly in front of Harry and me.

"Don't be foolish girl, step aside and you may live."

"NEVER!" screams Lily whipping her wand around. One after another, red and green spells fling themselves out of the tip.

Voldemort flicks his wand, lazily blocking her attacks, and with a tiny flourish sends her flying across the room. I whimper softly when I hear her body make contact with the wall. The sound captures Voldemort's attention and he turns towards us. His red eyes flash with what I think is curiosity?

Damn those eyes are so freaky, even if his appearance is still classically good looking – for an older guy. But why would he be curious about us?

I squirm uncomfortably as those evil eyes drink the sight of Harry and me in. I push Harry's body a little behind my own. I know that it's pointless for me to even try protecting him, ultimately he will live anyways, but he's my brother and this man is trying to hurt him.

Will I even survive if Voldemort hits ME with the killing curse? Maybe I should move… No, Heather! You are here for Harry! Don't worry about it!

I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of the fearful thoughts flowing through it. Instead I glare into the eyes of one of greatest dark wizards of all times, desperately trying to push my own instincts for self-preservation aside. I figure that he won't try to read the mind of some odd tiny child, he's far too arrogant in canon to do that.

He surprises me when he hisses out, "What are you doing little girl? Why are you here?"

What does he mean, why am I here?

Behind him, I see Lily struggling to stand up, so trying to distract him I make my glare even harsher and rasp out – my voice is hard to use for some reason – "What do you mean? I obviously belong here! You're the one who doesn't!"

Voldemort tilts his head slightly, a pondering expression appearing on his face, and I have the tiniest feeling of a foreign presence touching my mind.

No. No. No. No. No. No. I thought it was bad form to probe an infant's mind!

Lily is on her feet and another green light flashes from her wand, but Voldemort is too quick and her spell is sent flying into a wall.

Maybe he wasn't touching my mind? He responded way too quickly to Lily's attack to have been too distracted by me. I must have imagined the feeling…

Voldemort slashes his wand and once again she hits the ground, but this time she is immediately trying to stand.

He turns to us angrily, with frustration evident at her continuous disobedience, and screams out, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"NOOOO!" Lily screams as she dives in front of us.

"Mom!" I yell as she flumps to the ground.

Harry lets out his own loud cry, and suddenly white light is flooding the room. Voldemort starts shouting and is running for the door. My body feels heavy and weak but I reach one arm out towards Harry. With all the strength that I can muster, I pull him closer to me and use a hand to stroke his hair comfortingly. Finally, my strength disintegrates and I pass out, Harry tightly gripped between my arms.

I don't know how long I was unconscious for - but when I wake up, I wiggle my body carefully. I'm trying to take note of all of my injuries – if I have any – and whether or not I'm still hopelessly weak. From my movements, I notice that I'm bundled in a soft blanket and when I open my eyes to double check, I realize I'm in the arms of a huge hairy giant.


I close my eyes lightly, still slightly aware but very tired.

"Hagrid!" I hear a familiar voice call, "What happened?"

"Sirius. He came. They're dead."

"No! No! They can't be dead! They're supposed to be protected from him! Hagrid… Is that Harry and Heather? Are they still alive?"

Hagrid bends down to show us to our Godfather. When I open my eyes again, I notice that Harry is actually awake too. He smiles when he sees Sirius' worried face staring down at him. When Sirius leans over to check on me I reach out my hand and touch his cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

I know he heard me based on the tears that start filling his eyes. I don't know what he thinks I'm apologizing for, but I am definitely aware that soon he will be in Azkaban.

And it will be my fault for not warning him.

My own bitter tears well up in my eyes and I shut them angrily.

"Hagrid, let me take them. I am their Godfather - they should stay with me!"

"I can't Sirius. Dumbledore's orders."

"What do you mean Dumbledore's orders? Where are they going? Who else is going to take them?"

"Lily's sister has a family."

"Lily's sister? The muggle? No!"

"I'm sorry," Hagrid mumbles.

"Well take my bike at least. It has invisibility charms on it and flies like a dream. It will get all of you there safely."

Hagrid nods and steps onto a motorcycle I once considered humongous. When Hagrid stands next to it though, it seems like it won't handle our weight. Before sitting down, he adjusts the position of the sling where Harry and I currently rest. While Sirius spends some time showing Hagrid the controls on his motorcycle, I touch my clothes carefully, making sure that my bag necklace is still wrapped around my neck and hidden. When I discover that its still there, I breathe a sigh of relief and reach for Harry's hand. I manage to grasp onto it tightly, and soon I am watching him fall asleep, muggle cities flying by underneath us. Every now and then, Hagrid will look down at us, checking to see if we are okay, and each time I meet his eyes contentedly offering a reassuring smile.

He is a good man. His boss though… I'm not quite so sure about. I guess we will see.

As we fly, I realize that I am patiently waiting for the moment when my eyes will meet those of yet another powerful wizard. The one who is known as the Champion of the Light.

Albus Dumbledore. I'll be seeing you soon.

*Chapter 4*: The Drop Off

First Draft Posted: 9/9/16

First Revision Posted: 10/19/16

Second Revision Posted: 11/28/16

Special Note:

I don't own the Harry Potter World, only Heather and my ideas, the rest of it is completely J.K. Rowling's. As such there will be a few lines pulled directly from her first book HP and the Philosopher's Stone throughout this story, some of which appear in this chapter.



Chapter 3: The Drop Off

October 31, 1981

After an hour or two of flying through the air, I notice that we are slowly descending and the closer we get to the ground, the faster it seems that we are going. I brace myself for the bouncy landing I know is sure to come, and wince at the rough movements when we finally hit the concrete. Hagrid peers down at us, worried that Harry has been jostled from his peaceful sleep, but upon seeing his content expression Hagrid smiles happily in relief. He turns to look at a pair of tall adults who are standing a couple of yards away; I notice that they are wearing robes indicating their knowledge of the wizarding world.

Dumbledore and McGonagall. Waiting in front of the Dursley's house just like in the movies. Dumbledore doesn't look as old as I thought he would and his signature beard isn't nearly as long! He's not as "grandfatherly" looking as he's described in the books either.

"Hagrid, at last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" Dumbledore asks warily.

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir. Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got them out all right before the muggles started swarming the place. Harry fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol, and Heather stared up at me the whole way."

Aww… damn! I should have realized that an infant not sleeping or fussing after such a draining event would be weird. I wonder what Dumbledore will say?

Instead of responding, both Dumbledore and McGonagall lean over the sling that Harry and I are sitting it. They gasp when they see the lightning bolt cut in his forehead.

"Is that where?" McGonagall questions curiously.

"Yes. He will have it forever," replies Dumbledore.

"What about the girl?"

"She must not have been in direct line of the curse or in the vicinity."

Well that is definitely not true, if anything I should have a scar and Harry shouldn't. I was right in front of him when Voldemort cast that spell… Are there certain things in this world that I can't change? Or is there some other reason I don't have a scar?

Not that I want one! It's horrible! It not only indicates that Harry is once again a Horcrux but also that his mind will be vulnerable to Voldemort!

Something that both him and Dumbledore won't mind exploiting to further their own agendas. Pathetic old men.

I won't let them manipulate Harry again – I won't let him become a tool for others. If anything – I'll become the tool. The means to an end. But not Harry. Not him.

In order to do that I'll need to investigate Horcruxes more. Particularly when I'm older and able to access Hogwart's library. I'll find the same books that young Tom Riddle did. I'll determine whether or not I'm a Horcrux and how to get rid of Harry's soul piece without killing him.

As Dumbledore lifts us out of Hagrid's sling, I watch him with rapt fascination – I mean he is super famous and he practically radiates power. Luckily, Dumbledore is different from Lord Voldemort because I don't feel even a whisper of our minds touching. Then again – I have no idea whether or not Voldemort touched my mind or if I was just imagining it.

Normal wizards probably wouldn't touch the minds of babies. I bet they're worried about their minds being too fragile… and most babies probably don't harbor thoughts like mine.

Either way, Dumbledore smiles at me gently, a soft twinkle in his bright blue eyes when he notices that he is the focus of my attention. He turns towards #4 Private Drive, and begins walking down the sidewalk before he is interrupted.

"Could I – Could I say goodbye to them, sir?" Hagrid asks.

"Of course, Hagrid." Dumbledore says in a gravelly yet kind voice.

Hagrid leans his giant head over our bundles and looks down upon Harry and me. He bends further inwards, causing his gristly beard to rub against my check, and leaves a small kiss on my forehead. He repeats the action with Harry who is still sound asleep in his blue blanket.

Hagrid is such a nice man. He's a bit clumsy and rather awkward – but sweet.

Dumbledore turns and starts back up the walkway towards the small doorstep at the front door. He smiles down at us as he hums a small tune, vaguely I recognize that it's something by John Lennon, but I can't remember the title. He stops at the front door, and gently sets the pair of us down on the step. He reaches into the front of his wizard's robes and pulls out a small letter addressed to the Dursleys. He places it on top of the sleeping Harry as Minerva's presence causes him to look back up.

"Well, that's that. We have no further business here. We should join in the celebrations," Dumbledore says to her rather cheerfully.

Yeah enjoy the celebrations while they last. Don't even consider the mental and physical torture that will occur to the two small magical children that live with wizard-hating family members.

"I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. Good evening Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Hagrid says tearfully.

Sirius. I internally whimper at the sound of his name, knowing what awaits him in the next few hours.

Nothing I can do right now. Not right now.

Hagrid smiles one last time at Harry and me before walking back up the pathway towards Sirius' bike. I hear him rev the engine and the sound disappears in the distance.

The two Professors turn towards each other, McGonagall blowing her nose in obvious distress at being forced to leave us with these horrible muggles. Supposedly, she has spent the past couple of hours observing the very normal behavior of the Dursleys. Yet I realize that even if she suspects that they are the worst type of muggles, she won't do anything about it. She has always trusted Albus Dumbledore to make the right decisions - even when her own common sense tells her his decision is wrong. This indicates the blind faith that the entire Wizarding World has for him.

I wonder if he even realizes how similar both he and Voldemort are to muggle dictators.

"They'll be fine Minerva." Dumbledore says in a comforting and knowing tone of voice.

Minerva sniffles once more, nods, and quickly apparates away. I think she is trying to hide her distress from Dumbledore.

"Good Luck." Dumbledore says looking down at our small forms.

Once more, the two of us make eye contact and his blue eyes twinkle, and a tiny smile appears on his face. It's at this moment that I realize something important. Something that the original series and movies only hinted at - he knows exactly what kind of wizard-hating muggles the Dursleys are. He probably suspects that we will receive awful treatment at their hands, but it's all for the "Greater Good". It's better that Harry be treated badly and so desperate for love that he latches on to the first person he meets in the Wizarding World. It's better that he doesn't think for himself. I feel a twinge of anger run through my body which I suspect will only increase over the next couple of years.

Don't worry Albus. We won't be needing any luck.

*Chapter 5*: Unwanted Arrival

First Draft Posted: 9/10/16

First Revision Posted: 10/21/16

Second Revision Posted: 11/28/16

Chapter 4: Unwanted Arrival

November 1, 1981

Throughout the night Harry and I sit on the porch in our respective bundles, waiting for the Dursley's to open the front door and notice their unexpected arrivals. Instead of falling asleep on some stranger's front porch – I reflect upon the events that occurred on Halloween and what I'm going to do in the future.

What if we were kidnapped off of this porch? Would anybody even know? We could be raised by practically anyone and Hogwarts wouldn't be notified until we turn eleven. Then again Mrs. Figg would probably tell Dumbledore that she never saw us. All in all, this situation makes me wonder just how thoroughly Dumbledore thought this through. Did he cast any spells to hide us from prying eyes? Or were we really left out here in the open?

And what about the attack by Voldemort? Pretty much everything happened just as the novels described. The only difference being that Voldemort seemed more curious about the pair of us. Did my presence even change anything? Harry is still a horcrux and Lily and James are still dead, therefore nothing major was changed last night.

I really need to ascertain whether or not I'll be able to change anything or if I'll be forced to live the entire canon story. No matter what I tried – pleading, begging, screaming, explaining – nothing convinced Lily and James that Peter was evil.

And that weird voice that I heard when I was born – I haven't heard from it since… so I have no idea whether or not it's going to help me… or what it wants me to do.

Eventually, I notice that the sun is rising in the east and I start wiggling in my bundle. I watch many of the neighbors of #4 Private Drive leave for work in their cars. Since there is now actually light for me to better examine our surroundings, I take the neighborhood in with amusement. The houses are all exactly the same: their hedges, light fixtures, paint, mailboxes – nothing escapes their perfect muggle "normalcy".

This truly is the perfect neighborhood for the Dursleys. Their home owner's association is probably ruthless. I bet they shame and fine anyone who dares trim their hedges in a slightly different shape.

Although the neighborhood amuses me, it also causes a moment of anguish, because it shows just what we are getting into with our relatives. If the neighborhood is anything to go by, Harry and I are about to be adopted by some of the plainest and strictest muggles ever – the kind that stress uniformity and perfection. Something that's hard to ask from two normal children – let alone magical children.

Granted I might not even have magic… then what would we do? I better hope I'm able to do something because I will definitely need to improve our childhood. The sameness of this place gives me the creeps.

I haven't actually met the Dursleys yet, but based on their reaction to Harry in the canon story, I'm in for a rude awakening when they meet us. I know that Harry was treated poorly in the original series – often starved and locked in a cupboard or bedroom, but that hasn't stopped me from hoping that maybe they'll be different. Once, I even asked Lily about Aunt Petunia, something that shocked her to no end and made her very upset. All she would tell me was that Aunt Petunia hates magic and that the sisters were no longer speaking.

I would be lying if I said that I've given up hope. A part of me still wants to believe that they will recognize us as family – and that they will be friendlier than their movie counterparts.

I tilt my head, hearing noise and movement coming from within #4 Private Drive. Luckily, Harry is still sound asleep and won't be awake to see their reaction. I hear a deep voice coming from the other side of the door before it swings open.

I hear a loud surprised grunt above my head, "Hmmph."

He really does look like a Vernon.

Uncle Vernon has one foot out the door and one still in the house, he is staring down at us with a shocked expression. Behind him stands the waff-like Mrs. Dursley, our mother's sister, who looks nothing like our cheerful mom.

"What is it Vernon?" she asks trying to peer around his large frame.

"Children, Petunia! Children have been left on our door step! Is this some kind of joke?" Vernon looks around, seemingly looking for television cameras.

I wish it was a joke, Vernon. I really do…

Petunia manages to inch her way around him in order to look down at us. She spots the letter left on Harry's bundle and bends down to retrieve it. The only readable emotion displayed on her face is curiosity.

"Look Vernon, a letter," she states.

When she flips the letter over, and sees the Hogwarts seal, her expression morphs from one of curiosity to one of anger and annoyance. She looks around the neighborhood rapidly - trying to spot any strangers that might have left the letter, and us.

Finally, she says, "It looks like this has something to do with my freak sister and her husband."

Vernon's mouth drops open as if he's imitating a big-mouthed bass, however the announcement stopped his anxious glances – his eyes had been darting up and down the street and between the neighbor's houses.

"Well open it then. Let's see what the freaks have to say."

Petunia opens the letter and reads the contents aloud; I'm glad that she does this, because it means that I also get to hear the letter. I will know exactly what Dumbledore says in order to convince Aunt Petunia to let us stay in her house.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

It is with great sorrow that I must inform you of the untimely deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Potter. They were killed last night by a dark wizard who is running unchecked throughout Wizarding England. These children are the offspring of Lily and James Potter. The boy is named Harry James and the girl Heather Lily. They have no other relatives with the necessary requirements and aptitude such as yourselves. You offer the only sanctuary available for these children. Since Lily Potter died protecting her children, they were bestowed with a powerful magic that will protect both themselves and your family. The dark wizard will be unable to reach your family if you house both Heather and Harry until their 17th Birthday. Of course the Wizarding School of Hogwarts will also offer protection should the need arise. We will not let any harm come to you and yours. Also a monthly stipend will be sent to you from the Potter's personal vault in order to properly raise both children. I must also advise you to remember the strict rules regarding the regulation of knowledge pertaining to the Wizarding world. Please treat them as your own children.


Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

Almost immediately after she finishes reading, I release a cry in protest.

Who knew they were being paid to keep Harry? Was this payment also occurring in canon? If it was – and they still had the gall to treat him like dirt, giving him worn out raggedy clothes and little food… despicable. They probably used every drop of that money for all those presents that the brat Dudley demanded.

The only good thing that this does, is remind me of my most immediate and pressing problem. Money. If Harry and I want to have a better life, we will need it. And I know the perfect way to finance our better lives.

Bear with me for a few more years Harry! I will do my best!

Petunia and Vernon share a worried look before turning to stare down at us.

"That scar," murmurs Petunia.

Uncle Vernon huffs in agreement.

He doesn't seem like a man of many words…

"What should we do?" she asks him, concern lacing her voice.

Uncle Vernon shrugs his huge shoulders and they share another look. This time I can see the conflicting emotions displayed in both of their faces. They both share an obvious hatred for wizarding England but there is also a fear – fear of the unknown and the power that evil wizards have, especially compared to muggles.

I watch as they finally reach a decision, the two of them pick us up and bring us into their home. From this I know what they've decided – they will house us and "care" for us, in exchange for protection and money.

I peer up into Aunt Petunia's face as we are carried into the living room. I offer her a small smile and a tiny giggle, but the only thing that I receive in return is a frown. I huff in disappointment and turn to stare at Harry. It seems like he was woken up by Vernon's jostling movements. From the growing frown on his face I can tell that he's upset but luckily he hasn't started crying.

Our Aunt and Uncle set us down on their living room floor where Dudley is playing with some toys.

"Dudey-kins, these are your cousins."

The little boy barely spares us a glance which causes me to sigh.

At least we are far away from Voldemort. And now that we are in the muggle world, I can finally set some of my plans into motion.

Something hard whaps my shoulder causing a sharp pain, so I look down and see a toy car resting next to me and Dudley looking particularly happy with himself. I sigh again.

Childhood is going to suck.

*Chapter 6*: Let the Preparations Begin!

First Draft posted: 9/10/16

First Revision posted: 11/13/16

Second Revision posted: 11/28/16

This chapter is rated T.

Chapter 5: Let the Preparations Begin!

August 1, 1983

Yesterday was our 3rd Birthday, and what did we receive in acknowledgement? Some hand-me-down clothes of Dudley's. I am furious because not only are the clothes huge on us, but they also contain multiple food stains from the pig. All because he refuses to stop eating! Every mess he makes, which occurs anytime he even looks at a piece of food, Harry and I are forced to clean it up. This means that Dudley is under the assumption that we are his personal servants; servants that just happen to live in the same house and be the same age. Of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't correct the boy because they treat Harry and I similarly.

Their growing arrogance and harsh punishments are already causing my resentment and hatred to reach troubling proportions – something I need to curve now lest I do something stupid. I have to constantly remind myself that the blood wards that Lily created for Harry and I are useful. They could one day be the only thing standing between us and Voldemort. Not to mention, I don't want to be responsible for the deaths of my mother's only sister and her family if they were left unprotected. No, it's better to stay here and deal with familiar muggle abuse than risk Harry's life in the unknown – not that two three-year olds could live alone in the real world anyways.

The only good thing about the situation is that Harry still hasn't noticed anything wrong with the way they treat us. He's so young and kind, I want to preserve that for as long as I can. He barely remembers Lily and James – doesn't remember that real affection from adults is hugs, kisses and kind words. Not the ungrateful sneers and harsh smacks that are often our reward from the Dursleys. Even though these Dursleys are worse than the ones portrayed in the books and movies, which I remind myself is likely due to the series being marketed towards children. I have to admit that Harry and I lucked out when they decided to give us Dudley's second bedroom. It's much better than two children being forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. They probably figured that we would grow too fast and couldn't be kept down there for any lengthy period of time.

If only we had more money! Then we could at least improve our living conditions! But the only reasonable way to make money at this age… would be to invest in stocks. We need an adult who can make investments for us, but who?

As I lay in bed thinking of solutions to our problem, Harry lays next to me, reading a children's book. When we first moved in with the Dursleys, I insisted that Harry learn how to read his own stories. I wanted him to have something to preoccupy his mind and his time when we aren't doing chores. Surprisingly, Harry took to reading very quickly and nowadays can often be found with his nose buried in a book.

It must be because there is nothing for us to do here except read or do chores.

The two of us don't have many possessions because the Dursleys refuse to buy us toys insisting that it would be a waste of money. The only reason that we have any books to read is because Dudley receives them during the Holidays. He hates books so much that he always throws them into the trash and his parents don't bother to retrieve them. So I sneak out of the house late at night, after everyone has gone to sleep, in order to save them from the trashcans. Honestly, the books are our treasures, because without them we would have nothing to do except succumb to the sad life that we have with the Dursleys. The books offer us an escape, something that we can lose our thoughts in, our imagination, in order to escape the horror that is the Dursleys.

Sometimes when I'm in a particularly nostalgic mood, remembering when Lily and James tucked us into bed and read a story, I cuddle Harry close and read to him. I want to offer Harry some semblance of a normal life in those moments, remind him that he's loved and cherished, and I admit that the act even offers me some small amount of comfort. I find that on the nights that I read to him, Harry doesn't have as vivid nightmares. He won't toss, turn or cry out nearly as much in the middle of the night. His nightmares and anguished cries break my heart because the only thing that I can do is stroke his hair, hoping that it soothes him enough to alter the dreams.

I often wonder what his nightmares consist of – Voldemort? Our parents? Yet whenever I ask him I always receive the same response, "I don't remember."

I guess that's for the best, he's only three years old and I can't ask him to relive his nightmares during the daytime. I can only be there for him and hope that the dreams don't drag him into a darkness that I won't be able to reach. I wish that his nightmares subside with his increasing age and when I find a solution to our money problem.

We won't inherit the Potter fortune for another 8 years! So I need to find a way to access the money without Dumbledore's interference. When I do get access I'm going to grow the Potter fortune into one of the biggest around.

The money situation has haunted me so much that I've thought about which companies I will invest in many, many times.

Knowing the future sure has its benefits!

My obvious choices are Apple and Microsoft, because they will be hitting it big time in the next couple of years, but I know I should really consider some other ones too.

We have to invest in Apple now before it becomes popular around the world! They are releasing their first computer in a couple of months and then everyone will want to invest in them! If we jump in now, even with a tiny bit of money, we will have more than enough to live off of. But we need an adult and the only two people I can think to trust are Remus and Sirius… and I know Sirius is in Azkaban right now, so Remus it is! But how will we even contact him?

Suddenly a rather ambiguous idea pops into my head; I know that it's risky and a little morally questionable but what else can we do?

"Harry?" I suddenly ask.

"What?" he responds, looking up from his children's book.

"How would you like to go to the park tomorrow?"

"Yes!" he exclaims excitedly; he loves to leave the house whenever we can.

"You know we will have to get in trouble though, right?"

Harry frowns at me, this isn't the first time that he has heard me say that, but he knows what comes next.

"Do you have to?" Harry asks in a small voice.

"You know it's the only way to escape from the house."

I just hope he still has the same skills now that he did in the novels.

"Now let's go to sleep Harry. We need to do this early in the morning."

Harry nods while folding a corner in the page of his book to mark his spot. I jump out of bed in order to turn off the lights, but before I can click the switch Harry calls out, "Heather?"

"Hmm?" I respond.

"Can you show me a picture of Mom and Dad before we go to sleep?"

Nodding, I pull out a picture from the small bag around my neck; it seems that father really placed feather light and undetectable extension charms on the bag. The picture I pull out is one of our family of four sitting around the breakfast table. I recognize that Sirius or Remus must have taken this picture a couple of days before our first birthday. When I turn back to the bed in order to show it to Harry, I can't help but smile sadly. I sit next to him and hand over the picture. As I watch him intently stare at the moving picture I can't help but to wrap my arms around his body.

"I miss them." He says simply.

"I know Harry, I do too."

Afterwards I turn off the light and return the picture to my bag. We lay cuddled together on our twin bed and quickly fall asleep.

Early in the morning we decide in which manner we are going to make the Dursleys very upset. It is a relatively easy feat while two three year olds are making breakfast. I always take over the more dangerous tasks of cooking the eggs and bacon and give Harry tasks like pouring drinks, setting the table and making toast. Knowing that we will get into more trouble if I make the mistake, simply because I rarely make them, I hold the frying pan tightly. I know this is going to hurt, a lot. I stride normally towards Vernon, who is sitting at the dining table, and make to serve his bacon and eggs. However I slip and the pan falls directly on to the skin of his legs and the sizzling bacon flies up towards his face.

"OWWWWW!" he screams in agony waving his arms around.

Aunt Petunia jumps out of her seat, "What have you done? You stupid girl! You, boy! Go get a cold wet towel!"

Harry, who is standing in the kitchen, grabs a kitchen towel and wets it in the sink. He rings it out nervously and brings it over to Petunia. She yanks it out of his small hands and dotingly presses it onto her husband's face, which is now covered in minor burns from the bacon.

"Vernon, Vernon dear, you will need to go put your face and legs in cold water."

"Not until I beat that girl for this!" he yells rising on to his feet.

Petunia looks over at me nervously, she has never seen her husband this mad before. Vernon pulls off his belt and walks over to me, when I notice that I'm cowering a little bit I quickly straighten up and steel myself.

"Get over here you brat. You are getting a beating for this. Maybe you won't be so clumsy next time."

I close my eyes as I'm laid over the side of the couch. Vernon lifts his arm and his leather belt, bringing them down quickly onto my backside. He is too angry to recognize that my shorts are offering me some protection from the beating.

This is nothing. Nothing compared to the murders of my parents. I need the entire day to improve the rest of our years here. I'm not feeling any pain.

"1…2…3…4" Vernon counts in a loud voice.

Harry whimpers softly from his spot in the kitchen, I wish that he wasn't here to see this; I know that every time he sees me get beaten it hurts him, as much as it hurts me when I see him in the same position.

Finally, after 10 strikes Uncle Vernon is too winded to continue and he lets me slide to the floor. Aunt Petunia grabs his arm and says in a soothing voice, "Dear let's get you over to the shower and take care of those burns."

She glares over at us as she helps her husband to their room, she mouths, "Leave, now."

Harry runs over to me as I get to my feet slowly, my small body trembling in pain.

"Heather, are you okay?" he asks in a scared voice.

"I'm fine Harry, let's go."

I AM fine. Just walk. Try to walk normally. One foot in front of the other. Your butt does NOT hurt.

I notice that Harry and I are alone in the kitchen and living area so I ask, "Can you grab me some ice in a bag? Quickly!"

Harry rushes to do it and I limp my way towards the front door; by the time I make it there, Harry has caught up and hands me the bag of ice. We walk down the street together, I'm limping steadily while Harry casts worried glances at me.

"Where are we going?" he finally asks.

"We need to find a snake!"

"A snake?" Harry exclaims with a frightened look.

"Yes, so let's go into the woods near the park and afterwards we can play on the swings."

We search the woods for almost the entire day before I shout, "Harry! Harry! Come over here quickly!"

Harry jumps up from his crouching position; he had been staring into the hollowed trunk of a fallen tree.

"Did you find one?"

"Yes I did!"

I am walking behind a slim dark green and brown snake as it slithers across the ground rapidly, obviously trying to avoid me. Harry moves up behind me also watching it intently, "Is it poisonous?" he asks carefully.

"Snakes are venomous Harry, not poisonous, and I don't think this type is harmful to humans."

"Okay, now what?"

"Harry this may sound weird but… try and talk to it! Focus on trying to talk to and understand it."

Harry stares at the snake intently, thinking that his sister is playing a joke on him. How is he supposed to talk to a snake?

"Hello… Mr. Snake? Do you hear me?"

I stare at Harry, "Harry it's not working, try again!"

He was only speaking in English.

At that moment the snake turns to look at us, its tongue slithering out, "Were you ssspeaking to me?"

Harry and I gasp at the same time.

Holy. Shit.

"It spoke!" Harry exclaims at the same moment I say, "I understood it!"

The snake sticks out its tongue again, this time tasting the scent of the two humans. Both of the little ones were undoubtedly speaking in parseltongue.

I recover quickly, "We're sorry, but would you consider doing us a favor?"

The snake tilts its head, "What would I get in return?" it asks.

I gulp, knowing that what I'm about to ask will go against every basic instinct a wild snake has.

"We will feed you for the next couple of years."

I hope that the promise of food will at least encourage the snake to listen to my request.

"What isss it that you want?"

"We need you to capture an owl."

The grass snake hisses in disbelief, they want her to capture a beast that adamantly seeks to eat her?

The snake probably thinks we're crazy.

"It doesn't have to be a large owl! It could be small or very young… well it must be capable of branching."

Harry is listening to the exchange with rapt attention, he still can't believe that we can both talk to snakes.

He's not the only one confused. How is it possible that I don't have a scar but can speak to snakes like Voldemort?

He seems a little puzzled about why we need an owl, but knows that he can ask me later.

The snake lets out a low hiss, "How many yearssss will I receive prey?"

"About 8 years." I hesitate, not knowing how long these snakes live for, but hoping that this offer would be long enough to appease the snake.

"I accept" the snake replies with a cunning glint in its eye.

"Do you want to see where we live?" asks Harry.

"Good idea" I say approvingly, "You should know where to find us for food and letting us know when you have found an owl."

"For food yesss… but I already have an owl for you… You may pick me up."

I reach my arm down allowing the snake to glide up it. I watch it curiously because it feels natural to have a snake slithering over my bare skin.

It must be because I am also connected to Lord Voldemort. How else would I have received this ability?

"Where to?" I ask the snake.

"That way." The snake gestures with its tail leading us further into the woods.

As we walk Harry asks the snake questions, which makes me smile because I'm truly appreciative; I don't know very much about snakes, particularly English snakes.

"What kind of snake are you?"

"I am a grasssss ssssnake."

"Are you a boy or girl?"

"I am a perfect repressssentative of the femalessss of my kind." The snake answers in contempt while regally lifting her head. She flicks her tail changing the direction of our stroll slightly.

"What do you eat?"

"We conssssume frogss, toadsss, lizzzardss and small insectsss." The snake slithers further up my arm until she is wrapped across the back of my neck.

What is she doing? Why does it seem like she's hiding beneath my hair?

"We are here," the snake finally hisses.

Oh, she is scared of the owls.

"Where are the owls?" I whisper not wanting to startle our prey.

The snake gestures her tail up towards a hollow in the middle of a medium sized tree. I look over at Harry, "It's not very tall is it?"

"We could climb it." Harry suggests trying to be helpful.

I pause, considering, "Ms. Snake, are there babies in that nest?"

The snake's tongue flicks out towards my ear, "Yesss."

I nod, "Then you must knock the baby out of the nest because if humans touch the other babies the parents may not properly care for them."

The snake sighs, "Check if the adultssss are there at leasssst."

I slowly make my way towards the tree.

Since it is dusk right now the parents are probably out hunting for the first meal of the night. The babies are probably alone in the nest and it'll be a good time to grab one now.

I realize that I am right when I peer into the hollow and see only fat half fluffy and half sleek fledglings. They are obviously old enough to be at least learning to branch. I immediately jump down and away from the tree landing in a crouched position.

"Okay, get to it." I insist setting the female snake on a lower branch.

The snake quickly ascends the tree, when it reaches the nest shrill owlet shrieks ring throughout the forest.

"Hurry!" I call knowing that one of the adult owls will probably hear their baby's cries.

Harry bounces up and down on the balls of his feet below the tree.

Suddenly an owlet is falling out of the hollow, "I got it!" he cries.

He catches the little bundle in his arms while it squawks in indignation and anger, battering him with its tiny wings.

"Be very careful Harry! Pin its wings to the sides of its body. Do it lightly so it doesn't get hurt!"

I manage to jump up a couple of feet and snatch the grass snake off the tree.

"Run!" I cry.

Our group consisting of twin children, an angry owlet and a proud snake rush through the forest away from the sorrowful cries of baby owls.

*Chapter 7*: Reaching out to Remus

First Draft posted: 9/12/16

First Revision posted: 12/6/16

Chapter 6: Reaching out to Remus

August 20, 1983

Almost three weeks have passed since we obtained the owlet. Since then it has grown and fully shed the rest of its baby feathers. Throughout this entire experiment I insisted that Harry care for Fawn, feeding, grooming and strengthening the owl, in order to develop his sense of responsibility; One of the most important tasks that I gave him were wing strengthening exercises, in order to promote the owl's flight muscle development.

When we first received the owlet, we hid him in our bedroom for an entire week before Dudley discovered him. Dudley had been walking past our bedroom door when he heard Fawn's hungry squawks and quickly proceeded to inform his parents. Both Harry and I had trouble sitting down for an entire week after that. We were also forced to clean the entire house from top to bottom! I tried to do the majority of the cleaning on my own so we wouldn't lose any time teaching Fawn how to fly. His training was my priority.

After Fawn was discovered, I left it up to Harry to find him a new spot to sleep. Harry chose a perfect tree hollow a little ways into the woods behind the Dursley's house. It was in a convenient location for Harry and me to visit, but also offered Fawn the chance to grow up in his natural environment. When Harry found the hollow, he spent the afternoon finding soft moss and grass in order to make a perfectly warm nest. The little owl didn't have his siblings or parents thanks to us, so we needed to make sure he was able to have an adequate amount of warmth.

For Fawn's first week in his new hollow, when he couldn't fly at all, I asked the grass snake if she would protect the young owl. She insisted that I feed her extra-large frogs for the entire time she would be forced to babysit the owl. For all her haughty attitude and sharp tongue, I think she's actually grown to care for Harry and I , and by extension Fawn. Of course, it still took me a few weeks to earn the privilege of calling her by name, Emerald, which I think suits her very well. A name which is highly unusual because most wild snakes don't have official names – they identify each other by scent instead.

Finally after three weeks of Harry's hard training, where Fawn would take short flights between the rooftops of the houses on Private Drive, the owl managed to fly multiple streets of the neighborhood without stopping. He was obviously tired after the flight but was learning and increasing his flight distance rapidly. I think it has helped that we've been pushing him to hunt for his own food. I was very excited when Harry told me just how far Fawn had managed to fly; I figure Fawn will be able to make the flight to Remus before the end of the month.

I recognize that being in charge of another living creature is something that most parents would not allow a three-year-old to do. Yet I am not his parent, no matter how much I may feel like it, and I know that I have to push Harry's mental and physical development if I want him to do better than in the novels. I will not allow him to be that susceptible teenager who is easily manipulated by the adults, especially Dumbledore. That's not to say that I'm taking away his childhood, because I'm not, I take most of the abuse that the Dursleys dish out and I often push Harry to spend time outside with the animals or reading. Yet there was something that I didn't realize at the time, and that was that Harry noticed more than I gave him credit for. He watched me cover for him when he made mistakes, take his beatings and then offer him most of my food from our measly meals. This, I figured out later, drove him to become bigger, stronger and smarter in order to protect me.

September 1, 1983

"Heather!" calls Harry.

I watch as he runs full-speed towards my resting position underneath Fawn's tree. One of my usual lounging spots when I want to have a discussion with Emerald. The small snake is currently curled up in my lap and we had been talking about wizard familiars before Harry interrupted.

"Yes, Harry?" I respond.

"I think Fawn is ready to fly to Remus! He'll probably stop and take breaks on the way… but he should manage to get there!"

I grin, "So he was able to find you from that far away?"

"Yes I was all the way near the school this time!"

"Okay then! Let's attach this letter to him, and then I'll show him a picture of Remus. You made sure to feed him, right?"

Over the past three days we have been testing to see whether or not Fawn would even be able to locate someone in a place that he's never been. It was never mentioned in the books whether or not the owls that deliver mail were charmed to be extra smart and sensitive to the locations of wizards, or if all owls have those traits. That's why Harry and I developed a few tests designed to gage Fawn's intelligence and locative abilities. Many of which I discussed at length with Emerald who has provided me with many valuable magical insights.

The idea that Emerald and Fawn have already been magically altered, simply by spending time with Harry and I, arose after Emerald mentioned in passing that she has been thinking a lot more. She admitted to often spending large chunks of time thinking about her own future and mortality. Concepts that don't really register in the minds of wild snakes. We have concluded that this is a large indicator suggesting that normal creatures may be changed into magical familiars simply by spending large quantities of time around magic. Although we have also considered that they have been so affected, particularly Emerald, because Harry and I are untrained and therefore leak magical energy into our surroundings. Of course, all this means is that Fawn's exposure to magic has placed him on a similar intellectual level to those owls that are wizarding bred.

Even if this is true, I'm still a little concerned about what will happen to Harry and I if this plan fails. We will definitely be subjected to many more years abuse with little to no wiggle room.

No – the plan cannot fail. Harry and I will be able to pull this off because Fawn will find Remus. He will safely deliver my letter. My shockingly mature and rather mysterious letter. I have no doubt that Remus will be in for the shock of his life when he reads it.

September 1, 1983

Dear Moony,

I know this might come as a surprise but this letter is from Heather. Harry and I are three years old and live with our relatives, the Dursleys. We are both fine.

I know that you are probably curious about how two three year olds managed to acquire an owl while living with muggles. Well it wasn't easy! That's for sure.

You may also be surprised that a three-year-old was able to write this letter, but don't be. You more than the others, meaning mom, dad, and the other Marauders, have always suspected that I was different – weird. I saw it on your face when I started speaking earlier than other children.

I may not be able to tell you everything right away, but know this – I love Harry more than anything - and right now, we need your help.

Would you please read into Muggle investing or better yet visit an Investor in London? This will be pertinent in bettering our lives. Both Harry's, mine, and your own. A little extra money never hurt anyone right?

We would really like to see you. You can't come to the Dursley's house – they truly are the worst type of people - but Harry and I can meet you in Smith Park down the street.

Please send a return letter with Fawn if he reaches you; he is a very young owl and will probably need a good rest and food before flying back.


Heather and Harry

PS. To prove that this reached the correct recipient, in your reply please state what our fathers nickname was.

Before sealing the letter, I enclosed a picture of Remus with Harry and I. I hope that it will be enough proof that Harry and I are who we say we are. Harry ties the letter onto Fawn's leg but also makes sure that the owl is clutching it in his talons. When he is finished, I check that the knot is secure and feed Fawn a frog.

"Nice Job Harry!" I praise my brother, his knot was flawless.

I turn back towards the little owl, "Fawn, you are giving this letter to Remus Lupin. I know it says Moony, but that is his other name, okay? It's this person."

I show Fawn a picture of just Remus and he hoots in reply before clacking his beak.

"He understands." Harry tells me; over the past month he has become well acquainted with the signals Fawn displays.

"Okay then, let's wish him luck."

Harry tosses Fawn up into the air, giving him some momentum to begin his flight.

"He'll get there Heather, don't worry." Harry insists.

October 6, 1983

We are woken up by an insistent taping on the window. Harry looks over and sees a young brown owl perched on the window sill.

"Heather!" Harry gasps flinging his arm over me and hitting me in the process.

"Oww Harry!"

Harry throws off the blanket and jumps out of bed in order to let Fawn in, for it is indeed our little owl, returned at last.

I rub my stomach looking over towards Harry and the little owl, "Is there a letter?"

"There is!"

"Quickly give it to me and take care of Fawn. He looks exhausted."

I see that the sun hasn't completely risen over the houses across the street. "Take him to his hollow and make sure to give him a huge treat. He deserves it."

Harry nods while putting on his shoes.

Before he leaves I call out in a whisper, "And don't forget to be back before the Dursleys get up!"

I look down at the letter in my hands, it is addressed to "Prong's Children".

Fawn really managed to reach Remus!

Half anxious and half excited, I tear into the letter and quickly begin to read.

September 21, 1983

Dear Heather and Harry,

I have to admit that receiving a letter from the two of you was one of the greatest shocks of my life. I had resigned myself to only being able to see you when you were older, of Hogwarts age, with knowledge of the Wizarding World. I thought that when I next saw the two of you, you wouldn't remember me at all.

Even knowing that you're special Heather, for that has been clear since the moment that we (your parents and the Marauders) first laid eyes on you, I never would have imagined this possibility of reconciliation. Something that I hope you will explain to me in due time.

Your owl reached me two weeks after your letter posting. He must naturally be very determined, or sensed the desperation of the sender, because his species is usually reserved for short distance flights. As such, he was very tired when he reached me and spent a couple days at my house, while I researched this "muggle investing" that you wrote of.

I gather that this is a way that muggles earn more money; they give companies a portion of their personal earnings and in return receive a share of the company's profits? There are similar occurrences in the wizarding world, although different terms are used. Most wizards would never invest their money in muggle companies, so it sounds like a very innovative idea. Are you sure you have properly thought this through? With what money will you invest in these companies? The money that Dumbledore sends each month? On that note, why do you need even more money in the first place? The two of you are only three-years-old!

On any occasion, I would love to come and visit the two of you. Considering how long it took for Fawn to reach me, I will apparate to Smith Park at 6pm on October 6. If you do not show up I will wait for our next correspondence where you may set the date and time.

With Love,


October 6th? But that's tonight! Fawn almost didn't arrive in time for us to meet Uncle Remus! We will have to sneak out in order to see him.

I can't believe that he agreed with me… that the Marauders and my parents always knew that I wasn't a normal baby. I was always unsure about whether or not I has hiding it well enough… I guess not. I knew that I was speaking before a normal child would – before Harry even – but had hoped that they'd just consider me a 'genius'.

Then again, Remus only mentioned the word 'special'… geniuses are pretty special, right?

So, maybe that is what they thought! I mean what parent would look at their child and assume, "Oh! You're definitely a reincarnated person!" It's too far-fetched.

In this case, what am I going to tell Remus if he asks? No – when he asks?

What am I going to tell Remus if he asks – no, when he asks?

Am I going to tell him that I'm a reincarnated girl? That in my original world he's a fictional character? Uhhh – no that's probably not the best way to explain things.

I lay on my stomach on the bed with my feet dangling off the edge, bobbing in the air, as I consider my options.

What about those fanfictions I used to read? Didn't the OC's usually describe themselves as seers? I haven't had any strange visions, but I could definitely say that I experience dreams.

Think, Heather! Anything else? Other options?

You could always tell him the truth… The part of me that remembers being a muggle without any siblings in peril danger suggests.

Absolutely not! If I went around announcing that I'm from a different world that considers this one fictional, I would be called crazy or worse and Harry would become an even bigger target. Not to mention, if the wrong person searched my mind and found out all of the future events that I know… horrible!

It would be bad enough to be considered a seer…

But this is Remus – he won't tell anyone. The older more trusting voice says, the one that hasn't seen her mother killed in front of her, and the one that doesn't understand the dangers of magic.

So… seer it is!

Any further thoughts are interrupted by the bedroom door slowly opening. I turn to my side and see Harry sneaking back into the room.

"Is Fawn okay?" I ask him quietly.

"He's fine."

"Here Harry, come try and read this letter. We will practice your reading and you can see what Uncle Remus wrote."

Harry jumps back into the bed with me and snuggles up to my side, bringing the letter up close to his eyes in order to read.

I will have to get Harry glasses soon – or better yet, contacts. I wonder how was he able to convince the Dursleys to buy him glasses in the original novels? They probably did it to avoid suspicions of abuse when he went to school.

Harry reads the letter very well for a three-year old child, he makes quite a few mistakes, but it's obvious that he is a very intelligent child – probably gifted. Many of his questions pertain to the more advanced vocabulary and the wizard world diction. He is quite confused when I try to explain the concept of 'apparation'. He's so smart though, it really makes me wonder how such a boy would struggle with his classes at Hogwarts, but I've concluded that it was a combination of his childhood abuse by the Dursleys and the completely different curriculum offered at Hogwarts.

When he finishes reading, I say, "Now Harry, we are going to meet Uncle Remus tonight but you have to promise me something."

"Like what?"

"You can't tell him that the Dursleys hit us, okay?"

"Why can't I tell him? He could take us with him!"

"Harry, he can't take us with him."

"Whhhy?" he whines.

"This other very controlling man would not like it."

Harry pouts, "Okay sissy, if you say so."

Later that day, we have dinner ready for the Dursleys and on the table by 5 o'clock. We made sure to leave enough time for us to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen.

After we finish tidying up, I say, "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, we've finished our chores and have cleaned up dinner. May we go to our room now?"

"Yes, you little brats, get lost," Uncle Vernon replies in his typical nasty tone of voice. One that he specifically reserves for speaking to Harry and I.

Dudley snickers from his position on the couch, where he is watching TV and eating a huge pint of ice-cream.

I seriously hate them. One day, they will regret treating us so horribly.

"Let's go." Harry whispers pulling on my shirt.

We stop near the front door, where I tell Harry to walk up the stairs normally and come back down quietly. Using the stairs creaking and his footsteps to cover the noise of opening the door, I pull it open and wait for him. Once we are outside, I very carefully close the front door and we take off down the street.

I wonder what Remus will think when he sees us? What will he say?

Remus' POV

With five minutes to spare, I apparate to the address that Heather specified in her letter. There isn't a soul in sight, so I decide to sit down on one of the park benches. It is quite decrepit – broken and worn-down – not unlike myself. Instead of fixing it, I sit on the area baring the fewest splinters. Splinters designed to keep others away from the rugged bench, no doubt, a form of self-protection.

When I first received the twins letter, addressed to 'Moony', a nickname that only my closest friends know, I was shocked and wary. I figured that it was someone playing a cruel prank on me, or more likely Sirius, once again, trying to contact me. It was only the sight of the feminine handwriting that stopped me from chucking the letter in the rubbish bin – it was definitely not the writing of Sirius Black.

After I opened and read the letter, I hesitantly drew myself from the dark pit that I had been residing in, like an animal. A werewolf.

The spirally handwriting spoke like a mature adult, a young woman, rather than the three-year-old child it claimed to be. Yet it also mentioned things that no stranger would ever know, my nickname, and the weird behavior that Heather displayed as an infant. My curiosity was spiked and I knew that I had to meet this writer, whoever they were – whether that be a threat to Heather and Harry, or the twins themselves, I had to know.

So here I am – waiting in some random muggle park for twins that may or may not show up.

Another part of the letter that caught my attention was the interest the writer had in muggle investing. They were nearly adamant that I look into the topic and help them. If this letter really was from Heather – why would they be so desperate for financial help?

Their suggested desperation sparks a memory in my mind - one of a conversation that I overhead in the Order's headquarters shortly after the Potter's death. Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore had been discussing Lily's family, specifically her sister, Petunia. They mentioned that the Dursley family would receive adequate financial contributions from the Potter Family vault each month, in order to pay for Heather and Harry's living expenses and schooling. This specifically, is what has my hand so close to my wand, stored in my ragged muggle jeans, and my senses on high alert. The Potter twins should be in a loving home, being well-provided for – and this person is specifically contradicting Dumbledore's words.

What was I thinking coming here alone? Without telling Dumbledore or anyone else where I was going? Do I have such a serious death wish?

What am I saying? Of course, I do…

My best friends, my companions, the only people that ever truly cared about me – they're all dead. If it wasn't for that tiny spark, the smallest spark of hope, that I'd see Heather and Harry again – I would have killed myself sooner.

I'm still lost in my depressing thoughts, the only type I've been having recently, when my heightened senses pick up loud panting sounds coming from the direction of the road. I look towards the sound and notice two small children holding hands and running straight towards me.

"Uncle Remus!" The little boy calls out.

My heart starts pounding fiercely and excitement courses through my body.


As they draw closer, I notice that he looks just like James with his unruly black hair sticking out all over the place, a stubborn chin, pointed nose and that mischievous twinkle in his light green eyes. Oh… but those eyes… they are definitely Lily's. I continue drinking the sight of him in, until my eyes finally land on the lightning shaped scar across his forehead. It's evident that his long shaggy hair is normally pushed in front of it, but his running threw his bangs to the side.

That's where Voldemort hit him with the killing curse. He will have to wear that reminder, that Voldemort killed his parents, for the remainder of his life.

I drag my eyes away from the little boy that looks like a miniature of my dead best friend, to the little girl that has pulled him to a stop a couple of yards from me.

This girl wrote me that letter?

Initially, doubt is the only emotion apparent in my mind, after all how could a three-year old write that letter?

She must have had her Aunt write it for her. Even if she's the 'genius' that Lily and James always claimed – it would be too much!

Yet the longer that I study her, the more apparent it becomes that she truly isn't normal. Her eyes are wary, studying me with an intensity and intelligence far greater than any child that I've ever met - not that there have been many with my condition. Only Lily and James were crazy enough to knowingly let me near their children. The knowledge in this child's eyes sharply contrasts with her tiny stature and the pudginess of her limbs – the things that indicate her true age.

Interestingly, she looks more like Lily than James. I guess her brother and her got opposite genes despite being twins. Her hair is a brilliant dark red and her features are a near replica of Lily's pointed ones. The only differences being the light splattering of freckles across her nose and her eyes, eyes that are a mixed shade of purple rather than Lily's green. Hesitantly, I draw my eyes up to her forehead, and a sigh of relief escapes me when I notice that the scar that marks her brother is absent.

I guess it's true that she wasn't near Voldemort when he cast the killing curse towards Harry, but that begs the question, where was she?

Ignoring my suspicious thoughts, I step forward to pull them into a hug, calling out, "Harry! Heather!"

Heather POV

When Remus pulls us into a hug I feel a sudden wave of relief pass through my entire body. I'm not sure if it's because I'm with a reliable adult who actually cares for us or if it's just…him. In any case, I don't really care – all that matters is that he's here. Somebody that I can rely on, even if it's just a little bit.

I close my eyes and bury my nose into his shoulder, just like I did when I was younger. Remus has always smelled like pine needles and forest musk; I know it has something to do with the fact that he's a werewolf, and I love it. Surprisingly, the fact that he's a werewolf has never really bothered me. It might be because I've never been exposed to his wolf form or that my parents were completely fine with who he is. I mean, every month James would leave us to go frolic with that side of him. Then again, there's always that – the way that anything supernatural was portrayed in an overzealously romantic manner – and I freely admit to spending time as a teenager reading werewolf romance novels while curled up in bed. So it's not too much of a stretch, to recognize that the part of my brain that's still 20 years old and hormonal, finds Remus very endearing.

Stop it Heather! You are in the body of a three-year-old! Focus on yourself, Harry, and what you need to accomplish in this world. Which is definitely not romance!

"How have you two been?" Remus asks.

I reluctantly pull away as Remus leans down to pick up Harry. I admit, the childish part of me feels a little bit jealous because he decided to hold Harry and not me.

"Good!" Harry says eagerly with a big grin on his face. He seems more childlike in Remus' arms.

Those strong well-defined arms… damn it Heather!

"We've been well. The Dursleys aren't the most accepting of muggles but we've learned to… make do." I purposely trail off in the middle of my sentence in order to give Remus the sense that I'm not telling him the whole truth.

I watch Remus blink his gorgeous eyes in shock as my words and their meaning register. I guess reading my letter and hearing me speak like an adult are two completely different things.

Not that he's asked me about that yet. Patience, Heather, patience. He'll ask eventually, give him some time.

"Is… that so?" He responds after a moment.

"They aren't very nice." Harry says frowning.

"Harry…" I say in a warning tone of voice.

I don't want him to say anything too revealing about the Dursleys.

Harry just looks down at me and nods indicating that he remembers our earlier conversation.

I continue, "We want to invest some of our Gringott's money in muggle companies so that we can have some spending money. The Dursleys… well… they don't actually use any of the money that Dumbledore sends, on us."

I gesture towards the outfits that hang off Harry and I; they look like potato sacks and are obviously badly fitted secondhand clothes.

Remus' eyes light up in fury, "I will tell Dumbledore immediately! He will definitely do something about this! That money is for you two!"

I protest, "No Remus! You can't complain to Dumbledore. He'll say something to the Dursleys and they will only treat us worse! What if they start hitting us? Not to mention… I think that Dumbledore knew exactly what type of people he was leaving us with."

I know it's kind of manipulative of me to suggest that the Dursley's will hit us instead of admitting that they already do, but I want to awaken his desire to protect us, not his desire for justice.

Plus, I can plant a seed of doubt about Dumbledore's intentions in his mind now, then when I tell him that we are beaten we could escape from the Dursleys and free Remus from Dumbledore's hold. After all, Dumbledore doesn't need any more followers or "allies" but Harry does!

Remus looks at me with anger, pity and resignation waring in his eyes.

"What is it that you want to do then Heather?"

"I want you to take us to Gringotts. Then we should visit a muggle investor so we can invest the money that we withdraw. I already have a couple of companies in mind."

A smug smile appears on my face, looking out of place on a child, but I am rather proud of this plan.

Remus says, with a frown on his face and evident curiosity, "You can't access your vault in Gringotts without your key and I'm pretty sure Dumbledore has it."

I smirk even more, "Dumbledore has a spare. I have the key."

I reach into the small velvet bag around my neck, Remus watching me with widened eyes, and pull out a tiny golden key.

"Where did you get that?" Remus asks suspiciously.

I don't blame him. First a three-year-old child writes him a mature letter, then said three-year-old comes up with a complicated plan to gain money from the Potter family vault. I wonder if he thinks I'm an imposter taking polyjuice or a deaging potion.

"I found it in this bag," I indicate the tiny bag that I pulled the key from, "My dad made it when I wanted something to store my photographs in. Maybe he wanted us to have a key, just in case?"

This isn't the first lie that I've told in my young life and I know it won't be the last. Truthfully, I had snuck into James' office a couple of days before the attack and carefully retrieved this key from a hollowed out version of Hogwarts, A History. Hermione Granger's favorite book also held a special place in my mom's heart.

Remus considers my response and carefully notes the very innocent expression on my face. He must still be suspicious because he tilts his head and continues looking at me with a serious expression on his face – like he's trying to understand me and dig out my secrets.

I murmur quietly, "You can try a spell on me if you want. To prove that I'm Heather Potter."

Harry looks at me with a frown, "But you are Heather!"

I smile at Harry, "I know I am, Harry – but Remus doesn't."

Finally, he nods and says, "Okay, I will help you."

I think he decided to trust both in his best friend's children and how skinny we are. Then again, the effects of polyjuice potion are wiped away in a part of Gringott's bank.

Forgive me, Mom, Dad, for manipulating one of your oldest friends and one of the best men that I know. I want to do what's best for Harry but right now I don't have any power and having money earlier in life will help…

Prepare for a time skip! :)

*Chapter 8*: Life with the Dursleys and money?

First Draft posted: 9/14/16

First Revision posted: 12/9/16

Chapter 7: Life with the Dursleys... and money?

September 1, 1985

I feel completely relaxed and at peace – my hands and bare feet feel soft cool grass and the sun's hot rays are burning down into my face. The only uncomfortable thing is the sweltering heat from what I assume are my long pants and sleeves.

That's a little odd – I think to myself – isn't it September? Shouldn't it be getting a little chilly rather than being blistering hot?

Finally, I open my eyes and see the bright blue sky with soft white clouds floating lazily overhead. When I sit up I catch sight of my outfit.


I scramble to my feet staring down at the old-fashioned dress adorning my body. It's both long sleeved and ankle length, made of a soft green linen that swirls around me with any movement. Rather than being completely shapeless the dress has a light stitching that draws in the fabric around my waist. I'm thankful that there isn't a corset, but I'm curious as to why my unconsciousness decided to make this a roleplaying dream.

I mean why else would I be dressed in a medieval outfit?

Once again, I look down at my body but this time my attention isn't captured by the clothes but rather the body that I'm in.

These tiny hands aren't the size of a five-year-olds! They're more like the size of a two or three year olds – and I should know, I've been that age twice now!

Why would I be dreaming that I'm in the body of someone else?

Am I finally going crazy? I've never dreamed about being anyone other than myself…

I twist the tiny hands around carefully, examining them from every angle, noticing that the pink scar I received cooking for the Dursleys isn't there.

Guess that rules out being a younger version of myself…

I sigh. Why do weird things keep happening to me? Maybe this time I'll get lucky and all of this will turn out to be a nice regular dream, just in a different time period and in a different body.

Deciding to test the theory, I start pinching and slapping myself, hoping that the sensations will jerk the real me, Heather, awake. Nothing works, I'm stuck in the same ugly dress and tiny body.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm related to Harry Potter – nothing about my life is normal anymore.

I finally conclude that I should accept the reality of the situation, especially since it seems like I'll be stuck in this dream until it runs its natural course.

I look around curiously, discovering that I'm in a huge grass field with a large forbidding-looking forest bordering two of its sides. I become a little worried when I realize that there isn't a human in sight. Believing that I will come across someone if I walk for long enough, I pick a random direction and start walking, yet after strolling in the blistering sun for what seems like hours, I find myself severely disappointed.

I think I'm seriously lost! What am I going to do?

A tiny amount of panic begins to set in which I try to force down with reason. It's only been thirty minutes, right? And the sun isn't that low… I'll be fine. Somebody will come to get me, err… this little girl. Nobody in their right mind would leave a young girl all alone in a giant field!

I gaze around with frustration and hunger chipping away at the wall holding back the panic. Judging by how ravenous I am after just an hour or two, I would say that this tiny body has never been starved or had food withheld for a significant period of time before.

Just who is this dream girl?

I flop down on the ground, trying to fight the urge this body has to throw a temper tantrum and barely succeeding. It would be pointless anyways, there's nobody around to see it. The waring sensation I'm experiencing between what my body wants and what my mind knows to be childish is an interesting feeling. It greatly reminds me of the first couple of years I spent in Heather's body – the constant struggle between my childish tendencies and urges and those of my adult mind. Luckily, as I've gotten older the feeling has essentially become nonexistent, but I worry that other problems that will arise in the future. After all, I'm constantly torn between who I am as Heather and who I was as Megan, the muggle that wanted to become a Doctor.

A loud twittering sound blares directly next to my head, immediately rousing me from my thoughts, and causing me to scramble to my feet in alarm. A small yellow cotton ball is bouncing eagerly next to me, and from its mischievous expression I assume that the outrageously loud sound came from it. I stare down at it warily, I've never seen anything like it before so I have no idea whether or not it will attack. It's common knowledge that cute and cuddly things can actually disguise something vicious and twisted.

I smirk, recognizing that I'm a perfect example of something not being exactly what it seems.

However, the cotton ball doesn't attack – instead it tweets at me calmly and bounces in a random direction away from the huge forest. When it stops and stares back at me I understand that I'm supposed to follow it.

So for forty-five minutes, a tiny girl with nipple-length straight black hair casually follows a bouncing cotton ball. The situation reminds me of a story that I heard in the muggle universe as Megan – a story about a little blonde girl chasing after a rabbit dressed in clothes and carrying a pocket watch. I giggle at the memory, deciding that I should search for that novel whenever Remus next takes Harry and I to the bookstore.

The longer I follow the yellow cotton ball, the more I realize that it looks somewhat familiar – a memory of pink and purple cotton balls with large innocent eyes brushes forward.

Oh! Fred and George's creations! What were they called again... tiny puffs… no… pygmy puffs, that's it! This must be what they looked like originally.

When I reach the top of a massive hill, which the evil creature had made me climb in a ruthless manner, I gasp at the magnificent scene that stretches out before me. From my viewpoint, I can see the backside of Hogwart's castle?

Why am I suddenly dreaming about Hogwarts? Is this really what it looks like…. Wow its magnificent. But why does it look so new?

Just as I'm pondering the continued strangeness of this dream, it gets even weirder – a winged horse stops alongside me, causing me to bend my neck back harshly to get the full picture of its body. But that's not the strange part – this horse has a rider.

Draco Malfoy? What the fuck?

The boy, who looks about twelve-years-old, looks super similar to Harry Potter's infamous rival. I almost want to cry from the bizarreness of this dream – why would I dream about somebody I haven't even met yet? I MUST be going crazy from all this 'being related to Harry Potter' stress.

The confusion must show on my face because the boy smiles down at me kindly, his dark brown eyes meeting mine, and asks, "May I give you a ride home, young miss?"

It's when his eyes meet mine that I remember Harry Potter's rival had grey eyes, not brown.

I smile back and cautiously say, "Yes, please."

The boy gets off his horse in order to help me on, and before I know it we are flying through the air. The boy, Kenrick Malfoy as I later discovered, chatters on and on in a familiar manner. It seems that he is well-acquainted with this dream girl. It's interesting because he knows my – Heather's – favorite sweets and some of my personality characteristics.

Maybe this means that the little girl and I are just super similar? And it's a coincidence?

Deciding to let it slide, because I don't want to make it super obvious that I'm a body snatcher, I ask a few more casual questions like, "That's Hogwarts, right?" and "What's the year again?"

The answers being, "Yes, of course – don't you recognize your own home?" and "1023 AD."

Although one answer mostly relieves me, I'm in the same Universe this time, woo! The other scares me – I'm in a time close to one thousand years away from anything, besides the castle, that's familiar to me.

When we finally land, Kenrick gets off first and holds his hand out to me patiently, offering to help me off the horse's tall back – yet the moment my hand touches his, searing pain bursts through my mind and I collapse to the ground.

I jolt awake and happily recognize that I'm in Heather and Harry's bedroom.

Phew, it WAS just a dream. Thank God.

I had been a little doubtful – I've never experienced a lucid dream before, but since I woke up in my own body, that's all it was… right?

I flip onto my side, in order to watch Harry who is sleeping soundly next to me in the bed, his dark hair is ruffled and he has a content smile on his face. My heart expands happily and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face as I recognize just how lucky I am to have such a cute brother.

I lay back down, wondering if I'll be able to fall asleep after such an interesting dream.

I swear, my imagination keeps getting better and better. Although, I did have that soda before bed… that must have been it! No more caffeinated drinks after dinner for me! Otherwise I might find myself dreaming that I'M Albus Dumbledore next.

Unfortunately, after a couple of minutes I recognize that I won't be able to fall back asleep, so instead I lie awake thinking about the various events that have happened to Harry and I since we first reunited with Remus. Harry and I turned five years old in July and today is the day that we officially start muggle primary school. We were originally supposed to attend the local public school with Dudley, but that all changed when Aunt Petunia informed us that her Dudey-kins had been invited to attend one of the more luxurious private schools, St. Wiggins. The Dursleys were very excited that a "mysterious benefactor" recognized the amazingness of their little Dudders and stressed that Dudley would receive tuition money as long as he excelled in wrestling. Well at least he had a talent for it later on it the book series. What the Dursleys don't know, however, is that their mysterious benefactor is actually the little freaks hidden in the spare bedroom. I'm under the impression that Dudley may grow as a person sooner if he's exposed to more sophisticated children, has one of his talents recognized, and has another outlet for his aggression. Of course, the situation will also benefit Harry and I because I enrolled us in the other private school in the area, St. Harold's, while Aunt Petunia was fretting over new clothes for Dudley. As long as Harry and I disappear for eight hours a day throughout the school year she'll never know which school we are actually attending.

St. Harold's may not be as luxurious as St. Wiggin's but it has exactly the type of classes and extracurricular activities that I think Harry and I should participate in. I also don't want to be frivolous with our steadily growing supply of money.

Two years ago, Remus helped us draw a large portion of money out of our parent's vault in Gringotts, that was our first and only visit since. I don't want Harry to be exposed to the Wizarding World and all the "fame" too soon. It's something that Remus and I actually agree on because we both want Harry to have as normal of a childhood as he can. Immediately after withdrawing the money, I had Remus take us to a famous muggle bank in London that I had read about in a news article. It's a reliable place that has had very few scandals and employs a well-known and famous stock investor, Mr. Jim Long.

When we got there, Remus opened up a bank account for us in the Potter name, as well as his own, and we sat down with Mr. Long to discuss investments. I knew exactly which big ticket names I wanted to invest in, even if Mr. Long was a little wary of my choices, and they included Apple, Microsoft, Disney and Walmart. I tried looking for Google and Middleby on the list of stock names, but unfortunately one hadn't even been thought of yet and the other wasn't doing very well. After our visit, I made Remus promise to return to the bank in order to invest some of his own money. I knew that it would be hard to convince him to invest what little money he had saved, but I insisted that it would pay off very quickly, and I was right. Over the past two years we have garnered a significant amount of money and I know that our future profits will be even greater, especially since I have been reinvesting large amounts of the money that we make.

Remus himself has been doing exceedingly well – he's been taking the Wolfsbane potion every month, lives in a country home, and spends as much time as he can with us. His demeanor has improved significantly since we first saw him two years ago, he's not as depressed or lost, and he has established himself as a firm father-like figure in Harry's life. After that rather confusing first year, when he couldn't decide whether to act like my 'father' or my 'friend' – I refused to help him make up his mind – he decided to trust that I was mentally mature enough to be a 'friend'. Of course, I really am, but I wanted him to recognize that for himself and to trust me. If I had forced him to accept me as an equal, he would have forever had doubts and therefore I wouldn't be able to fully confide in him.

The day that I finally decided to tell him a part of my secret, to make him a close-confident, an ally, and to return his trust, is firmly engraved in mind.

"He's finally asleep," Remus says to me with a content smile on his face. He has just finished putting Harry to bed in the room firmly reserved for Harry in his country home.

His expression is one that I have been seeing more and more over the past couple of months – instead of a lost man he's becoming more like the Remus I remember as a tiny infant. The man he was before he lost all of his best friends at once.

"Thank you, Remus. It means a lot to me that you care so much about Harry."

His content smile morphs into an affronted one, "Of course I care about Harry! He's all I have left of James and Lily!"

I raised one eyebrow at him and he continues hastily, "Besides you of course…"

I laugh, "I know you are still a little suspicious of me, Remus. I mean how could you not? Some young child acts, writes and speaks like an adult? It's mysterious."

His face turns serious, "That may have been true after you first sent me the letter, but James and Lily always insisted that you were a genius and that you'd be the next 'Great Witch'. It's my fault for not believing them sooner and I'm sorry I suspected you."

My face softens, "Thank you, Remus. I've always wanted what's best for Harry…"

I momentarily pause, and in that moment, looking into his serious face and those intense eyes – emotional eyes rather than the dead ones I had been first reunited with a year ago – I decide to let him in to my world.

So I continue in a soft whisper, "And I tried to save Mom and Dad…"

His eyes widen, his heightened senses allowing him to catch every word, "Heather?"

His voice prods me to continue, to admit my secret, something that could tear this tiny escape that Harry and I have created apart.

I mumble the two words that I have been dreading to say, "I knew."

Remus' eyebrows furrow in confusion and I realize that I'm going to have to explain further, so that he'll understand exactly what I'm admitting to.

I spit it out, my voice harsher than I intended it to be, "I knew that Voldemort was going to come for Lily and James – that he was going to murder them."

He flumps back in his chair, and in a dead voice he repeats twice, "You knew… you knew?"

"I have dreams, Remus. Dreams of the future."

I smile as the memory fades away. That night Remus had seriously amazed me, leaving me in a relieved yet sobbing ball of tears, because he had accepted me. Instead of condemning me and turning Harry and I out of his home, he had allowed me to tell my story – how I remember being born and how I began having confusing dreams, dreams filled with violence and death, at a very young age. At one point, Remus' eyes had filled with tears and he had wrapped me into those wonderfully sculpted arms and just held me. I blame Megan for any and all inappropriate thoughts I harbor for the older man, but in that moment I was just happy that he hadn't decided to abandon me and that I still had someone to confide in.


My thoughts scatter as I bolt upright and reach over to turn off the alarm.

Today's the day – Harry's first day of primary school.

Harry jolts awake, and I grin at the sight of his crazy bedhead, once again thinking that he's adorable.

Why does he have to grow up so fast? I internally complain.

I think the anticipation and excitement that he's been harboring for his first day of school is what allowed him to wake up to the sound of the alarm, usually I have to spend at least five minutes poking and prodding him until he finally gets up. I promptly urge him to get out of bed and ready for the school day, yet when he goes to put on his school uniform I have to stop him.

"Harry, I told you yesterday that we can't wear our uniforms in front of the Dursleys, just put on your usual hand-me-downs and give your new clothes and school supplies to me. You can wear your backpack if you want too."

Harry smiles at me sheepishly, he must be so excited about the "new adventure" that he forgot. After I put our clothes and school supplies in my bag necklace, in order to hide them from the Dursleys, we are ready to go downstairs. Annoyingly, before we can even begin cooking breakfast, the miniature whale rips the backpack off of Harry, screaming, "Mom, Dad, Harry and Heather have new backpacks!"

Of course, the little shit doesn't try that crap on me. He would've gotten a nasty surprise in his bed later.

Uncle Vernon grabs the backpack and looks it over, "And where did you two get these?" he sneers, "Steal them?"

What. An. Ass.

"Actually… Uncle Vernon… umm… I found them in the dumpster behind the store… and well… they haven't been washed."

I hide a smirk as Vernon drops the bag with disgust – I knew that something like this might happen so I had prepared a lie in advance.

Stupid whale.

We prepare the usual breakfast consisting of eggs, bacon and toast and once we are finished I say, "Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, we have to go catch the school bus. We will do the dishes and the rest of our chores tonight."

"You better not forget," Uncle Vernon manages to growl from his stuffed mouth.

In actuality the school bus won't arrive for another forty-five minutes, but Harry and I will need the extra time each morning to properly prepare for school. After we leave the house we head towards the forest to feed Emerald and check on Fawn and his new hatchlings. They are the cutest little owlets ever – but they are constantly screeching in hunger.

Finally, we stop by the small convenience store that rests at the edge of the housing development – once inside, we purchase breakfast and some snacks for the rest of the day. We also change into our school uniforms and load our backpacks up with the school supplies.

We arrive at the bus stop just when its pulling up and decide to flop in a seat near the front.

On the way to school I decide to let Harry know the day's agenda, "Harry, you are going to be in Mrs. Smith's class in room 208. I'll come pick you up outside the classroom when the last bell rings, okay? You have to wait for me there so that we can head to Yoga class together."

"I remember Heather! I won't forget this time!"

"Okay, you better not! Oh and here…" I hand him some money out of my backpack, "This is so that you can buy lunch at school."

"Awesome, a real lunch?"

I'm very excited that we have started school, because we will be able to have at least two meals, every single weekday. It will still be hard to sneak out of the Dursleys to buy food over the weekends but Harry and I will manage. Being able to eat properly throughout the majority of the week will help us to accomplish the goals that I have for us. Goals that include:

1. Having enough food available to promote the physical changes that I hope to garner in both of our bodies.

2. Developing our strength, speed and flexibility through the practice of Taekwondo and all of its extra training. And it'll be super useful to be able to defend ourselves without a wand.

3. Learning how to meditate and calm our minds through the use of yoga… and increase flexibility.

4. Developing Harry's leadership abilities while allowing him to have a childhood.

All of these goals are relatively easy and will be fun to accomplish while we are at St. Harold's. We won't even have Dudley looking over our shoulders and reporting back to his parents. These goals are also the reason why I asked for Harry and I to be placed in separate classes. I figure that Harry will be able to grow more and develop as an independent if I'm not there for him to rely on. Though, I must admit that I'll be kind of lonely without him.

"Yes Harry, a real hot lunch."

Harry smiles widely and begins to bounce on his seat nervously as we pull up to the school.

"Look Harry, we are here."

"I see it! This place is huge!"

"Let's go. School starts in ten minutes and we need to get to your classroom."


As I walk through the school I admire the red brick and the peaceful atmosphere. It isn't a very large school, with only 200 students, but I know it seeks to accommodate the talents of everyone. When we arrive at room 208 I say cheerfully, "Here we are Harry. Remember to listen to your teacher and finish all of your schoolwork!"

"I know Heather," he says indignantly as he turns the door knob and steps into the classroom. I can't help but smile sadly as he walks away from me and into a new part of his life - one that I won't be as involved in. I feel like mother watching as their first child leaves the nest.

I muse, I guess in a way… I kind of am Harry's mother.

I turn and walk towards my own classroom, room 201, where Mrs. Len will hold class. I sigh knowing that class time will be ridiculously boring. After all I'd been accepted to Medical School in my previous life – even if I died before I actually got to go. Once inside the classroom I am greeted by a very pregnant woman and we exchange both pleasantries and our names, as figured she is Mrs. Len. I take a seat in one of the desks in the far back corners of the room. The classroom is set up similarly to the American kindergarten class that I attended in my previous life; there is a reading center with many shelves full of children's books, a play area with a variety of toys and the central desk area in front of the blackboard.

For the majority of the day we are allowed to play in the classroom in order to get to know both our teacher and our fellow students, of course I can't be bothered, so I pull out One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi which is charmed to look like The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It was something that I had asked Remus for last week and he had happily gotten from Flourish and Blotts.

I'm really happy that I told Remus my secret. It's way easier than having to pretend to be an immature child. Even though he still equates my matureness with my 'genius' and graphic dreams rather than being an young woman reborn into a child's body.

This thought makes me laugh because ironically if I hadn't died Remus and I would be the same age.

Then again… if I hadn't died we would never have met.

When the last bell rings for the day I pack up my things and hurry towards Harry's classroom, luckily he is waiting for me at the door, as promised.

"Harry! How was your first day?" I ask giving my brother a big hug which he tries to shrug off with a quick look around.

"I made a few friends and they want me to play with them tomorrow too!"

"That's great! Now let's get going, we need to head to the yoga classroom."

St. Harold's offers a variety of physical education classes for their students and each child is required to pick one class which they will attend every day during school hours; they then offer optional classes, as extracurricular activities, after the final bell rings. Both Harry and I attended Taekwondo class after lunch but I also made him agree to join yoga as our extracurricular.

After the class finishes we head towards the buses and a very exhausted Harry falls asleep on my shoulder on the ride home. At 4 o'clock, we get off the bus near Smith Park because we are supposed to meet Remus there. As we walk towards the park, a giant shadow falls on Harry, and it moves each time he does. Curious, he turns to look for the source and I watch as his blank facial expression distorts into one of fear.

*Chapter 9*: Tiny Potion's Master


Author's Note:

This will be my last update until Sunday, but I promise I'll post two chapters then.

I hope everyone is still interested in the story, the next couple of chapters will be super interesting. I promise!



September 1, 1985

A few minutes into our walk a giant shadow falls on Harry, it moves each time he does, so curiously he turns to look for the source and I watch as his blank facial expression distorts into one of fear. Before I know it something is flying straight at Harry's head very fast, I laugh when I finally notice what it is. Fawn angrily pecks at Harry's head as he waves his arms trying to swat the tiny owl away.

"Looks like he's angry that you haven't been to see him all day!"

"I told him yesterday that we have school." Harry complains.

"He doesn't seem too happy that you actually went."

"Owww! Owww! I'm sorry Fawn! Okay? Stop!"

Finally the little owl hoots contently before perching on Harry's shoulder.

"Let's just take him with us to the park."

We reach the park at exactly 4:15, but Remus isn't here yet. I lay on the grass stretching out my sore muscles; this is the most exercise I've ever done in one day. Harry and Fawn go to play on the jungle gym as I close my eyes.

This is the best day I've had since Lily and James died.

I wake up to Remus tapping my shoulder and gently calling, "Heather… Heather… wake up."

I slowly rub my eyes and open them to see both Remus and Harry staring down at me.

"Guess I fell asleep, huh?"


I stand up, "What time is it?"

"It's 4:45, I'm sorry I'm late but I…" Remus trails off and I can't help but to look at him curiously, it's then that I notice the drastic changes.

Simply put, Remus looks good, and I mean really good. When he last visited, eight months ago, I noticed that he was wearing new clothes and smiling a bit more. All of which I contributed to the steadily growing funds that he is collecting due to our muggle investments, but this Remus almost looks… happy.

I wonder how many months he's been able to take the Wolfsbane potion… it must be the reason why he looks so content.

"What happened?" I finally ask and watch as Remus' cheeks turn a delightful tinge of pink.

Oh. My. God. Is he in love?

"I was visiting an old school friend, and somehow we lost track of time."

Yeah, I'm betting that's not the only thing that got lost.

I was a little surprised at the bitter feelings that were rising up in my chest.

Stop it. You are only a child in this life.

But… I've mentally been alive for 25 years…

It doesn't matter! You came here to make sure that everyone is happy, not yourself! You don't have any right to feel bitter or possessive.

The internal debate between my heart and my mind wants to rage on, but I take a deep breath and mentally steel myself. My mind is the one with the common sense and therefore should be the one whose advice I follow.

"Remus, you can still take us to Flourish and Blotts right?"

"Of course, but let's go quickly. I think they close at 6 o'clock."

At Flourish and Blotts, Harry and I purchase a couple of books that catch our interests including, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, The Adventures of Mad Miggs, the Mad Muggle, Book of Potions and Ingredient Encyclopedia.

"Are you interested in potions Heather?" asks Remus noticing my choices.

"Yes, very! I want to start brewing some in order to get a head start on my classes at Hogwarts."

Remus sputters, "You are only five years old, and you don't need to worry about that now!"

"You're never too young to learn something new! And I think it's important that Harry and I know some of the basics. If we were growing up with magical parents you wouldn't say that it was too early."

I know it's a bit low using our dead parent's as an excuse to learn magic, but in reality it is the best reason. An evil wizard murdered our parents and letting us learn some magic, even the slightest bit earlier, will help protect us. I see it in Remus' eyes when he decides to let me brew some potions, but it comes with a condition that I'm actually very happy for.

"Okay, I'll help you learn to brew some of the more basic potions, but you can only brew when I'm there with you!"

"Thank you, Uncle Remus." I say with a smile, already knowing that I will break the condition.

Harry who was listening to the conversation pitches in, "So when do we get started?"

October 18, 1985

Every week since that conversation with Remus we have been meeting at the local park. He always brings with him, a 1st year potion's recipe and the necessary ingredients. However it only took me a couple of these meetings to figure out that Remus isn't the best at potions. I guess that's why he was never able to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for himself in the original novels. I on the other hand, excel at potions, my previous love for chemistry has converted into a love of potions. Either way, I'm thankful that he is taking the time to teach us and having an extra pair of eyes to watch Harry is a blessing. Professor Snape wasn't wrong when he said that Harry wasn't very good at potions in the series. Personally, I think he just lacks patience and the proper mindset, both of which are necessary when mixing ingredients. Since I've seen his trouble with potions for myself, I now know why he was so reluctant to turn in the Half-blood Prince's potion book. This time around will be different though, even though Harry isn't the best at potions, we are brewing at a very young age. Hopefully this will allow Harry to pick up some muscle memory concerning the techniques and movements associated with brewing. There is no doubt in my mind that he will be much better at potions by the time we head to Hogwarts. Professor Snape will be in for a rude awakening when he can't pick on Harry for not knowing the proper potion ingredients or techniques. I only hope that this will allow him to be more tolerable towards Harry, even if he's very similar to James.


Shit. I accidentally knocked in to Aunt Petunia's bedside table while vacuuming their room. I watch as hundreds of little pills fly across the room, hurriedly I turn off the vacuum, not wanting any of them to get picked up by the machine. Then I get onto my hands and knees, desperately trying to pick the pills up before the Dursleys come to investigate the bang.

Phew. I finish picking up the pills just as I hear loud stomping coming up the stairs. I turn the vacuum on in order to pretend that nothing has happened.

"WHAT WAS THAT NOISE? DID YOU BREAK SOMETHING?" Uncle Vernon spews while opening the door. He looks around the room and not seeing anything broken, he only get angrier as evidenced by his tomato red face.

I turn off the vacuum, "I'm sorry, what did you say Uncle Vernon?"

"Now listen here you brat, if you've broken something and I find it later, you won't be able to walk straight for days."

"I haven't broken anything, Uncle." I say innocently.

"Those remedial lessons that you and your freak brother take after school obviously haven't taught you any common sense." He says nastily with narrowed eyes. Finally he turns and slams the door behind him, leaving me alone in the room.

You're wrong, those "remedial" lessons have taught Harry and I plenty about self-defense.

Harry and I are only allowed to stay after school because the Dursleys think we are getting remedial lessons. We told them that the lessons are for dumb children who need proper discipline, with a rod, in order to learn common sense along with their other subjects. It goes to say the Durselys signed the permission slips eagerly, without even stopping to read them. This worked in my favor as we were able to get permission to stay after school for our real lessons, in Yoga.

I look back over at the vial of pills, considering an idea that had occurred to me when I saw them fly across the room. I think I read in my previous life that Potion's Masters need to create a new potion or advance the field in order to be considered a Master. I can't help but to smirk a little. How angry would Dumbledore be if one of the Potter's children became the youngest Potion's Master, ever? And I think I have just the project…

April 21, 1986

I've done it! I've successfully completed the ageing potion without Remus knowing! All those weeks of sneaking ingredients has paid off. Now I can go to Diagon Alley without an adult. This is so perfect. So many things I will be able to do in preparation for our years at Hogwarts. I'll be able to buy more potion's ingredients, books, wizarding tools… I'm so excited! I can even start working on that project that I've been researching for months!

May 2, 1986

Look at the size of this apartment! Harry's going to love it. We will finally be able to cook our own meals and have our own bedrooms! That trip to Diagon Alley was definitely worth the three hour bus ride to London. I hope that not buying a wand was the right decision… I don't want Harry asking why I was able to obtain a wand at such a young age. Especially when he finds out that wizards don't get wands until they turn eleven. And I also haven't figured out a way around the trace. So it's for the best that I wait to obtain my wand at the proper time, otherwise I'd be sorely tempted to use it. No, its best that I just focus on my project, I need to finish it before we turn eleven.

Hold up... Remus met someone? Any guesses on the identity of the mysterious woman? Will they actually fall in love or is this just a fling? I love how Heather struggles a little with her jealousy and attraction towards Remus in this chapter. I'd hate to be trapped in the body of a five year old! And I wonder just what her "project" is going to be...

*Chapter 10*: A Welcome Visitor


Author's Note:

Time skip to their Eleventh Birthday in this Chapter!



July 30, 1991

After the Dursley's house nearly imploded from the sheer number of letters arriving for Harry and me, Uncle Vernon lost it. He insisted that everyone pack up their belongings and he rented a house in the middle of the sea. I almost laughed at his antics, knowing that Dumbledore would never let the famous Potter children escape from his grasp.

After all he considers us, well more Harry than me, his greatest assets for the Light.

Throughout our journey across the sea, on a moderate sized fishing boat that Vernon rented for dirt cheap, Harry would constantly throw me worried looks. I know he is worrying about our letters from Hogwarts, and how we will escape the Dursleys in order to attend the school. He is so used to being under the Dursley's roof and control that he's forgotten that we are wizards, and so are the people that want us. It has long been a tradition in the wizarding world that every young witch and wizard attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy; ordinary muggles will never be able to compete with that tradition and the wizards who enforce it. Then again, I know for certain that someone is coming to pick us up, so I decide to ease his mind.

"Harry. Tonight we are going to get a visit from a staff member of Hogwarts. They are usually sent to muggle-born homes only, but obviously we are a special case."

Harry frowns but relief is evident on his face, "Why didn't you tell me earlier? You know I hate being kept in the dark about this stuff! I was really worried that the Dursleys would lock us up on the island."

"I know, I'm sorry. But Harry…"


"We need to pretend that we don't know anything about magic and that we've never been to Diagon Alley before. Nobody from the school knows that we've been in contact with Uncle Remus for all of these years. It will appear very weird to the staff members at Hogwarts, if two children, raised only by muggles know about Hogwarts and the wizarding world."

Harry tilts his head in consideration, "Yes, I see what you mean. Okay then! Let's pretend to be ignorant muggles!"

I laugh, recognizing that Harry attempting to be an ignorant muggle will be a sight to behold. He enjoys being right and knowing more than anyone else too much to pull it off completely. When he isn't practicing for Taekwondo or doing school work, he can often be found curled up in bed reading a book. Often times it's a book from Flourish and Blotts; although neither of us have discovered a way to escape the trace in order to practice magic outside of Hogwarts, we both recognize that it's important to at least understand the theories behind wand magic.

At least I know that is definitely something that my presence has changed. The original Harry would never have had the chance to learn about spells beforehand nor would he have had the extra energy to stay up late into the night reading; he would have been far too hungry to expend the extra energy.

July 31, 1991

Five minutes before midnight, we can hardly sit still due to our anticipation; we will soon be eleven and better yet, our lets will be delivered in the dead of the night by a witch or wizard!

I don't feel bad at all that the Dursleys will be woken up in the middle of the night. They deserve to be frightened a bit, at the very least, for everything they've done to us.

From our positions on the floor, next to the couch that Dudley is contentedly sleeping on, we have the perfect view of the shack's door. When we hear a subtle creak near the front door, we can't help but turn to each other, smiling in our eagerness.

Finally. Finally everything will begin.


The loud crash startles us both and we jump to our feet. Harry is looking at the door warily so I comfortingly grab his hand; I'm simply excited, at long last we will be able to attend Hogwarts and I will have access to magic and all of the resources that Hogwarts has to offer.


"Where's the cannon?" stammers Dudley as he moves to sit up on the couch.

What. An. Idiot.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia appear near the bottom of the stairs, a large riffle is perched awkwardly in Vernon's beefy hands.

That poor rifle… it looks like a baby sausage that Uncle Vernon will soon shove into his mouth, because he has no idea what to do with it. The only thing he knows how to do properly is shovel things into his hole… and wield a belt.

"Who's there?" he yells angrily. "I'm warning you! I'm armed!"


The door is ripped off its hinges and a huge hairy man is standing in the doorway with the storm raging behind him. Harry quickly pushes me behind him, and moves to hide us behind a large wall outcropping near the fireplace. I allow him to do so, over the years he has become more protective towards me, something that I don't want to diminish. I think he recognizes that this stranger is most likely the staff member from Hogwarts that I promised would come for us; but Hagrid is a very large and intimidating stranger, so I can't blame Harry for his actions.

Hagrid mentions something about not being offered any tea as he moves towards the couch that Dudley is perching on nervously.

"Budge up, yeh great lump." He says before sitting on the couch.

I nudge Harry's back, pushing him forward, into the light, so that he will be recognized.

"An' here's Harry!" Hagrid says with a huge grin on his face, "But whers' your sister?"

I grab Harry's hand again as I move to step out from behind him and the wall, "Here, sir."

Harry glances at me out of the corner of his eye, obviously suspicious of my suddenly meek demeanor.

I almost can't control the smirk that's threatening to rise on my face.

The more meek and soft I appear, the less likely I am to raise suspicion. I'm supposed to be an abused beaten down young girl after all.

"Las' time I saw you two, you were only babies. Now I brought you two a present, it might be a bit squished." He reaches into his coat and pulls out a white box which he hands to Harry. Harry leans over the cake and a smile appears on both of our faces when we see a homemade cake with slopping handwriting that says, "Happi Birtday" on it.

While we examine the cake, and I taste a bit of the delicious buttercream frosting, Uncle Vernon decides to make himself known.

"I want you to LEAVE, immediately! You are trespassing and I won't hesitate to call the cops!"

Hagrid proceeds to snap the rifle into two pieces, and I once again feel a twinge of regret. Poor rifle. It didn't want to be in Vernon's nasty hands, Hagrid!

"Thank you." Harry says at the same time that I ask, "Excuse me, but who are you?"

Yet another point for Heather, the actress extraordinaire.

"I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Harry asks, finally adding some contribution to our ignorance plan.

While Hagrid and Harry discuss Hogwarts and what the Dursleys had told us about our parents dying in a car crash, I study the pair intently. They would make a very memorable picture, a huge yet gentle giant discussing the horrible deaths of a lean boy's young parents. Suddenly Hagrid lets out a cry of outrage as Uncle Vernon has once again attempted to get him to leave the house. A large umbrella is pulled out of Hagrid's coat and the little oinker, Dudley, is left sporting a realistic pig's tail. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are terrified, running about the room trying to pull Dudley's tail off. A dark chuckle escapes me as I watch them in amusement.

This is almost exactly how the movie went. I'm glad our interactions with Remus, which I asked him to keep quiet, haven't interfered with the timeline too much. I think in the novel, Hagrid noticed how skinny Harry was but… at least I fixed that problem. Harry is now a perfect picture of health, a well-fed and athletically toned boy.

We have spent years toning our bodies and sharpening our minds in preparation for our admittance to Hogwarts, and we have been able to cook healthy meals in our wizarding tent, which stores our gorgeous apartment.

"Harry, Heather … you are a wizard and a witch."

I tune back into the conversation upon hearing my name, "-a what?" I stammer at the same time that Harry emits a loud gasp.

"A witch and wizard, o' course. Oh and it's about time you read these." Hagrid hands us, two different letters, one addressed to Mr. Potter, and the other, Ms. Potter.

We tear into the letters and my eyes scan the contents quickly. It is the standard invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry along with our supplies list.

"What does it mean, they await my owl?" Harry ponders aloud.

Damn Harry. You are on a roll, good one!

"Ahh, that reminds me." Hagrid says as he quickly scribbles a note on some parchment, and then pulls a large owl from yet another coat pocket.

"Here ya go." He mutters to the owl and we watch as it flies off into the night.

"Now then, Harry, Heather, are you ready to see the magical world?"

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

What do you think will happen in Diagon Alley? What will Heather's wand be like? Will Harry get the brother wand?

R&R to let me know your opinions!

*Chapter 11*: Return to Diagon Alley


Author's Note:

Here's the promised second chapter of the day! I hope how long this one is makes up for how short the last one was!



July 31, 1991

After a couple hours of sleep in a room that Hagrid had rented, Harry and I are wide awake. Harry urges me to wake Hagrid and finally I give in to the request. I wake Hagrid from his position on the couch, while he protests weakly, and we all procced to get ready for the upcoming day.

Hagrid leads us into the pub commonly and fondly referred to as the Leaky Cauldron. When we enter the bartender calls out to Hagrid, asking if he wants the usual. Hagrid responds kindly yet with an air of importance, that he's on official Hogwart's business and can't drink. At his declaration the entire room becomes silent and I hate silence in public places. It usually means that something dangerous is about to happen, and sure enough the entire room is suddenly converging on us, or more specifically, Harry. They have finally recognized the famous young wizard. His name is being passed around the room, whispers of "the boy-who-lived" and "he-who-must-not-be-named" fill the air.

Now that IS interesting… Harry is still referred to as the boy-who-lived yet they hardly recognize me. I wonder if this is because I don't have a noticeable scar, a symbol of the suffering we've endured, or if Dumbledore didn't see fit to inform the Wizarding world that Harry has a sister. I honestly have no idea what he's thinking… the truth that Harry has a sibling, me, is coming to come out once we reach Hogwarts. This is a puzzle that I'll need to think about some more.

Of the many different people that approach us, most want to shake Harry's hand but after Hagrid informs them that I'm his sister, a few settle for mine. It's during this fiasco that I notice a young man, reasonably pleasant to look at, leaning on the bar counter in the corner of the room. He is lean with a calm air about him as he watches the crowd, and more specifically Harry. The most noticeable trait about the man is the deep violet turban wrapped around his head. So this is Voldemort's host, Quirrell. He picked an interesting one. I wonder how many people have asked Quirrell why he suddenly wears a turban after his visit to Albania. Oh… this could be fun. Baldy, how will your precious host explain it?

My eyes narrow as we move closer towards the edge of the pub, our path will bring us into direct contact with Quirrell. Hmm, well played Voldemort. Trying to check on the young wizard who brought about your destruction without making it obvious? But how ever do you manage to control your rage?

"Professor Quirrell, sir. I didn't see you there!" Hagrid booms.

The calm air of the young man disappears, and in its place stands a nervous twitchy Professor.

"Heather, Harry this is Professor Quirrell, he will be your Professor for Defense against the Dark Arts."

I avoid the eyes of the fake Professor and quietly say, "Nice to meet you."

Harry and Hagrid converse with him for several moments while I study the man who will soon be attempting to kill Harry under Voldemort's orders. Up close you can see the bags under his eyes, the paleness of his complexion, and the paranoid look that shimmers in his eyes.

Yikes, being a host of one evil wizard sure does a number on the body. I wonder how long Voldemort has been attached to the back of his head?

"… lots to buy." I finally tune back into the conversation after hearing the tail end of Hagrid's goodbye.

Ahh… now's my chance. Careful Heather.

"Umm, excuse me, Professor Quirrell, sir?" I politely ask, keeping a lid on the rage that wants to spring forth. Keep calm, Heather. Be collected. You are an innocent young girl who doesn't know how rude she's being.

The young man turns towards me, confusion flashing in his eyes because I obviously haven't been paying attention to the conversation. Hagrid and Harry also watch me with puzzled expressions.

He asks, "Yes?"

"I hope you don't find this rude, but, why are you wearing that wrapping around your head? I haven't seen any other wizards dressed with it."

Why am I baiting the host of one feared wizard? Oh, yeah… because I'm Heather and don't know when to keep my mouth shut. Why, oh why, are my Gryffindor traits appearing at this moment?

A tingle of fear runs down my body as I watch a flash of anger flame in the young man's eyes. He quickly covers up the emotion and his eyes return to normal as he responds, "It's a… turbbban. Andd a Affrican Prrince gave itt to me."

I make my eyes widen in amazement and with a cheerfully innocent voice I ask, "Ohhhh, a Prince? Which one?"

I'm pretty sure his story about rescuing a prince for a zombie is entirely false, so let's see how he holds up under a bit of pressure…

Hagrid and Harry are looking at me with similar expressions of horror. Harry is no doubt astounded at my outrageously rude question and behavior, particularly because we are supposed to be playing fools. Sorry, Harry… I can't help it. This man is a tool, designed to hurt you.

"A verrry generrrous Prince calleddd Afolabi." He says with his own smile, trying to make it seem as if he's not offended by the rude question of a little girl.

"Afolabi, that means 'Child of High Status', right? I've studied African culture and I don't recognize a Prince by that name."

The rage filled eyes appear again, but they seem like they'll stick around for a little longer this time, "I'm affraid you simply must have forgotten his name."

I notice that his stutter façade has almost completely disappeared in his rage.

Okay, Heather that's enough, stop messing with the evil guy.

"Do you take it off when you shower?"

His expression of outrage, annoyance and disbelief makes my stomach coil in an intense feeling of satisfaction.

Oh god, what have I done? That was so incredibly stupid of me to say. He's going to kill me, right here in the middle of the pub.

"Ahhh…. We have to be going now. Sorry, Professor, my sister's feeling a little off today." Harry says pulling me away from Quirrel and towards Hagrid who is standing near the brick wall.

"What were you doing?" he hisses, "I've never seen you act so disrespectful before, not even towards the Dursleys."

I just shrug my shoulders, "It doesn't matter Harry, let's go… Hagrid's waiting."

When Hagrid taps the brick wall, I make sure to memorize the pattern used to open the entrance to Diagon Alley. The more ways that I have available to enter Diagon Alley, the better. As the bricks slowly disappear, Harry and I are greeted with the familiar sight of Diagon Alley. Each time we had come here with Remus we had purposefully been disguised, so it was a new and novel experience to stroll down the walkway garnering vast amounts of attention. I can see Harry soak up the rapt attention that we are receiving, this I know, is a trait that our father was known for and I want to guard Harry against it.

I nudge Harry, "Don't get carried away."

He glances back at me with a smirk on his face, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I sigh, hopefully this is a phase that he will grow out of like James did. The original Harry didn't like attention very much, but then again the original was never a Taekwondo star or brilliant scholar with a sister and a substitute dad either.

Hagrid turns to us, "Let's go to Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Your parents left you some money there."

"Umm… Hagrid… Do you mind if I go look at that dress store while you and Harry go to the bank?" I ask as loudly as I dare in a crowded street. I purposefully mention a dress store across the street, knowing that Hagrid wouldn't think it was dangerous and also wouldn't want to go with me. Harry raises his eyebrows at me suspiciously, he knows that I hate wearing dresses.

If we were to be attacked while I was wearing a dress it would be disastrous!

Hagrid looks over at the store that I had indicated, "Okay. But mak' sure you don't wander far from it, don't wan' ya getting lost."

"Okay!" I say happily making my way towards the store. I glance back before I enter it, Hagrid and Harry are further up the street with their backs to me.

Perfect. Now it's time to do the real shopping.

I move towards the corner of one of the large buildings, and pause in the shadows for a moment. I pull the hood of Hagrid's huge cloak over my head; he had lent it to Harry and me when we were flying through the torrential storm last night. I also take some wedge heels out of my bag necklace, I had put them in there before we left the Dursleys' normal house. They were going to be very beneficial to me in the next few hours. Lastly, I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and pull out one half of a small green pill; I chuck it into my mouth and swallow it down quickly, thankful that this particular pill doesn't have an awful taste. I step out of the shadows and make my way towards the entrance to Knockturn Alley. It's a risk for me to be down here, particularly without a wand, but this is something I absolutely have to do.

There is only one more month until school starts so I need the finishing ingredient for my last potion.

For the past six years, my ultimate mission, besides making sure Harry is comfortable and competent, has been to brew as many useful potions as possible. I figured that if I couldn't practice formal wand magic, due to the trace, than it would be important for me to have a head start and more than a basic knowledge of potions. I had quickly learned that brewing potions wasn't very different from mixing chemicals in muggle Chemistry. Therefore my knowledge from my previous life was very beneficial in this respect. I was never at a loss for time either, because I didn't need to spend hundreds of hours studying or doing muggle homework. Sometimes the perks of being reborn are just too much, it's such a huge life cheat.

By the time that our Hogwarts letters began to arrive, I had brewed at least one batch of every significant potion known throughout Wizarding England. Of course, it didn't take me six years to brew all those potions, if it hadn't been for my true goal, I would have finished them all in three. I sought to revolutionize potions, not just create them, and so I had spent huge amounts of time studying muggle pharmacology and drug production.

By the time I turned nine, I finally succeeded in transforming the ageing potion, in its liquid form, into a small green pill. It was the biggest accomplishment of either of my lives, and I have spent the last two years turning the rest of my stored potions into a variety of different colored pills. Now, with only one month before we attend Hogwarts, I only have one potion left to complete and alter into pill form, Felix Felices. I haven't already completed the potion due to its reliance on a wand in order to become magically potent.

With my last few steps down into Knockturn Alley, I feel the Ageing pill complete my transformation into a young sixteen year old woman. Since I have only taken half of the pill, I figure that I have fourty-five minutes to spend in Knockturn before I need to return to Hagrid and Harry. The first place I head towards is an old rundown store in the corner of Knockturn Alley with a slanted and cracked wooden sign that reads, "Knell's Inscrutable Wands." As I step into the store confidently I see an old owl with yellow eyes and raggedy feathers, it lets out a low warning hoot. Probably informing its Master of a customer. I notice that the inside of the store isn't in as bad of condition as the outside, which leads me to believe that I might be able to get a decent wand here.

An old woman with a huge humped back steps out from behind the rags that are draped on a door, presumably leading to the back of the store.

"You here to buy a wand?" she asks me rudely.

"I am."

"Step back here then."

The lady gestures towards me, indicating that I should follow her into the back room. Once inside, I gasp, wand cores and woods are strewn across multiple tables all over the room. On the center table is a small black bowl, some tools, a wand and a few paired wand woods and cores; this is the table that the old woman gestures for me to step up to. From her robes the old woman produces a large wicked looking knife which I eye cautiously.

I'm pretty sure this lady doesn't want to kill me, but it's still unnerving.

"Give me your hand." The old woman rasps, instead of replying I bravely give the woman my right hand.

She draws the knife across my hand and the sharp blade easily cuts my skin allowing blood to run into the black bowl. The old woman nods to herself when enough blood has dripped into the bowl and she allows me to withdraw my hand.

I can't believe I let a random stranger draw my blood. Who knows if that knife has ever been sanitized?

The old woman picks up the only complete wand laying on the table and dips the tip into my blood. Ugh, that's a bit gross. As the old woman closes her eyes and begins chanting I feel the atmosphere of the room change, my cut hand begins tingling in a weird manner, as if it's calling something. An old dusty box on one of the room's shelves begins to rattle, the old woman doesn't even open her eyes but gestures for me to get the box. I approach it carefully and with a slightly shaking hand open the lid. A slim piece of dark red wood with hints of gold zooms out. It comes to a rest on the center table near the old witch, and a light yellow feather and tiny white horn soon join it. When all three pieces are calmly resting on the table the atmosphere of the room returns to normal and Madam Knell opens her eyes. She eyes both the materials and myself with a speculative look as if determining how well we will work together.

"12" Acacia wood with a core of a Thunderbird tail feather and a horn from a horned serpent. The wand will be done in an hour," she grunts at last.

I nod with a smile on my face, the process was relatively simple, and I don't have any complaints regarding the time. I move to exit the store before I remember another important purchase I'll need, "I'd also like the best wand wrist holster available in the store."

Madam Knell doesn't respond, but I figure that she has heard me so I leave the store. I glance down at my wrist watch, checking the time.

Only 15 minutes left until the pill wears off. There's not really enough time to stop at the Apothecary or Borgin and Burkes. Guess I'll head towards Diagon Alley.

I make sure that my hood is securely pulled up and positioned over my eyes and hair. They are my most distinguishing characteristics, and I don't want anybody to recognize me down here. By the time I make it back to Diagon Alley the pills effects have just begun to fade. I move into the shadows yet again, in order to remove the wedges and allow my height and age to return to normal. Afterwards I go and sit down on the bench in front of the dress store. I don't have to wait very long before I spot Hagrid in the crowd. I jump up and make my way towards him trying to get a glimpse of Harry.

"Hagrid! Harry!" I call out to them.

" 'ello Heather. 'ope you had fun wit' those dresses" Hagrid says.

"I did! How was Gringotts, Harry?"

"Mom and Dad left us loads of money! And Goblins work at the bank."

"Really, Goblins?"

Hagrid nods at my curious question, "Alrigh' then les' get your robes nex'."

Harry notices that Hagrid is beginning to turn pale and sweating a bit, "Are you okay Hagrid?" he asks, concerned.

"I'm feelin' a bit bad, thos' carts an' all. Mind if I slip for a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? You can get your robes over there."

Hagrid gestures towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, "Okay Hagrid!" I interrupt quite cheerfully.

I just remembered a certain event that I bet will be quite a bit more interesting this time around.

I tug on Harry's shirt pulling him towards the store, when we enter Madam Malkin greets us cheerfully, "Hogwarts, dearies? I have another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

I allow Harry to lead the way as we follow Madam Malkin to the back of her store. A lone boy with pale skin and hair is standing on a stool being fitted by a second witch. The Madam pulls Harry onto a second stool and slips a long black robe over his head. Then she sets about pining it into the proper position.

Before long the pale boy opens his mouth, "Hogwarts, too?" he asks.

"Yes," Harry replies while I stand quietly to the side. As the conversation progresses, Harry and the pale boy discuss Quidditch, racing brooms and the Hogwart's sorting. He hardly lets Harry say a word, which suits me just fine, because even though I wanted a glimpse of yet another famous character, I don't want him to recognize us just yet.

When the boy notices Hagrid standing outside the window of the store with three ice cream cones he rudely declares, "I say! Look at that man!"

"That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts," Harry replies.

"Oh, he's some sort of servant right?"

At this point Madam Malkin has finished Harry's robes and is starting mine, I jump into the boy's conversation, "Actually, he's Hogwart's Keeper of the Keys and Grounds."

Pale boy looks at me in surprise, apparently he didn't even register my presence next to Harry's. He narrows his eyes and continues, "I heard he's a savage who gets drunk and sets his bed on fire."

"Well you heard wrong," I announce.

"Anyways… why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"Our parents are d…" Harry starts before I interrupt him by saying, "Did you know that a Hogwart's staff member escorts students with muggle parents?"

Immediately the pale boy's face turns to one of disgust and he sniffs looking down at the witch finishing his robes while saying, "They shouldn't let your kind into Hogwarts, what a waste of resources when you know nothing about this world."

He nudges the witch with his foot until she finally stands up and flourishes her wand causing the boy's robes to fan out, settling neat and complete on his thin frame. The boy pays the witch and makes to leave the store, "Bye!" I call after him in a provoking manner which causes the boy to grimace.

I immediately start laughing, "Oh boy, I can't wait to see his reaction when he finds out who we are."

Draco's going to be shocked. Oh September, why can't you come faster?

Harry frowns, "What did he mean when he said 'Our kind shouldn't be let into Hogwarts'?"

I nod, "That boy was from a pureblood family. So when I asked him if he knew about staff escorting children with muggle parents he assumed that I was talking about us. Some of those families think that "muggle-born" children shouldn't be allowed to learn magic and attend Hogwarts."

"But if they have magic isn't it better that they learn how to control it so that they don't hurt anyone?"

"That's what I think too, but you need to remember that there are bad people even in the Wizarding World."

Madam Malkin stands up, "Okay dearie, this set of robes is finished and I have both your measurements and your brothers. We can mail you all of your items when they are finished if you prefer."

"That would be great, can we pay for everything now?" Harry asks politely.

"Yes, of course."

"Actually… Madam Malkin? Can we also get the wrinkle, dirt, and stain repellant charms on everything as well?"

"Sure dearie, those will cost a bit extra though."

"That's fine," we say together, after which we can't help but look at each other and laugh.

We exit the store and make our way over to Hagrid, he is sitting on a bench, but when he sees us he makes his way over and promptly hands over the ice cream cones.

Next we decide to go to Flourish and Blotts in order to pick up our brand new first year school books and the Apothecary, for all of our potion supplies. Neither Harry nor I mention to Hagrid that we already have at least one of everything on the first year's list.

"Just yer wands left then. An' yer birthday present."

"You don't need to buy us anything Hagrid," I protest.

"I wan' too, I'll get ya two an owl to share. They're dead useful."

As we head towards the Eeylops Owl Emporium I suddenly stop, "Oh no! Hagrid! I think I dropped my necklace in Madam Malkin's store! I'm going to hurry back and check, you two go to the Emporium and I'll meet you at Ollivanders!"

I dart off before the other two can reply, popping the other half of the small green pill as I move back towards Knockturn Alley. I pull up my hood and put on my heels quickly as the pill's ageing effects settle over me once again.

I reach Knell's within ten minutes and again hear the owl hoot when I make my way into the store. This time however Madam Knell appears to be waiting for me at the front desk, "There you are."

Before I can say anything the woman produces a plain 12" wand with the recognizable dark red sheen of the Acacia wood. She holds it out indicating that I should grab onto it. I gently take the slightly curved end of the wand, anticipation coursing through my body.

My first wand! I'm so excited! How will it react to me?

So Heather finally got a wand! AND you got to see her sassy side with Quirrell and Draco. I was super excited to write this chapter due to all of these outrageous scenes. You also learned about her major project that she hinted at a couple of chapters ago. Youngest Potion's Mistress ever right? How will her invention effect the Wizarding world? Will she even expose the creation? How will Draco react when he realizes he met the Potter twins? And accused them of being unworthy of the Wizarding world?

*Chapter 12*: The Wand Chooses the Wizard

First Draft posted: 9/19/16

First Revision posted: 11/13/16

Author's Note:

Thank you to everyone that has R&R my story so far. I love reading your comments and advice! Hope you all are safe and happy :)



Divine Realm

Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin are the only two founders that are sitting at the marble table. They are discussing something in hushed whispers, both wearing expressions of dismay and fear. The marble door, leading into the room swings open, and both men glance at each other sharply – their conversation was immediately cut off by the noise.

Godric yells, "You know this is just the sort of punishment she deserves! Don't question the choices of our grand Master!"

Salazar protests loudly, as Helga and Rowena stroll into the room, "But it'll make her helpless and she'll be an outcast!"

Rowena butts into the conversation, "Godric, do you have it? We need to send it there soon."

Godric pulls a tiny rounded blue sphere out of his robe pocket and shows it to the other founders, "It's here."

Rowena smiles, "The second test that she must face."

Parallel Universe

July 31, 1991

I hold the plain dark red wand in my hand, both the old woman and I are looking at it expectantly, waiting for that signature sign that a wand recognizes its owner. We are sorely disappointed because nothing happens, the wand shows no sign of recognizing me as its master, nor does it give any signal that it's rejecting me.

This is what I get for not getting my first wand from Ollivander's. I can't believe how dumb this was.

The old woman glances between the wand and me quickly, "Interesting," she mutters softly.

What's so interesting about a wand that doesn't show sign of anything? Maybe she didn't make it correctly.

She proceeds to reach under the counter and produces another jagged dagger. She gestures for me to give her my hand that is currently holding the wand.

Not again.

Instead of taking the wand from my hand, like I expected her to, the old woman uses the knife to slice a pattern around the edge of the wand resting in my palm.

When the old woman finishes she demands, "Now hold the wand properly in that hand!"

I grab the curved end of the wand which causes my blood to stain its handle. After a couple of moments I feel the wand begin to heat up and suddenly golden and blue sparks are running across its surface in all directions. Madam Knell claps excitedly and when the sparks stop she takes the wand from my hand. After studying the wand for a couple of minutes she finally says, "You will either have great success with this wand or utter failure… a lot of it depends upon the depths of your personality," at this point she has me lean forward to look at the wand, "You see here… your two cores, the Thunderbird and the Horned Serpent are locked in a battle for dominance and neither wants to give up an inch."

Sure enough, my plain wand is now decorated with a design of the two mythic animals locked in battle. Those aren't the only changes, the red from the Acacia wood has sunken down into the handle combining with my blood to form a dark merlot color, and the remaining 8" of the wand is now a medium pink and gold hue. The sheer intricacy of the wand causes my mind to spin but I clear my throat and say, "So how much is the wand and the wrist holder?"

"30 galleons" is the immediate reply.

I pull out a small sack of coins from my pocket and count out the required amount before handing it to the witch. Madam Knell hands me a black wrist holster and my wand, I immediately place both on my right arm.

"The holster has a disillusioning charm on it which will cause both it and the wand to become invisible, drawing magic from the user. It also contains a retrieval spell for if you lose your wand somewhere or to somebody. Of course the stronger the loyalty of your wand, the stronger that particular spell becomes. The holster is spelled against breakage, wearing, and dirt."

"Thank you!" I call out as I make my way towards the door.

"Young lady, take very good care of that wand. Those cores are known for being very picky about their masters and usually only work with Americans."

I look back over my shoulder to ask her a question about it, but Madam Knell has already disappeared.

Soon I'm running through Knockturn Alley as fast as I can because there are only three minutes left until the ageing effects disappear completely. By the time that I exit Knockturn, I have completely transformed back into my eleven year old body.

I hope nobody noticed me in those last few moments of running. Well they probably figured that I was a young witch or wizard who had gotten lost. I'm just glad nobody tried to approach me.

After catching my breath I begin making my way towards Ollivander's Wand Shop. As I approach the store I notice Hagrid sitting outside with a large snowy owl, which Harry and I would later name, Hedwig. I don't see Harry anywhere.

"Where's Harry?"

"He was so excited about gettin' a wand that he wen' inside already."

I try peeking through the dusty windows into the store, but I can only make out a faint golden light. I open the door and catch the last few words of an old man's sentence, "terrible, yes… but great."

So Harry got the same wand this time around as well. At least it will be helpful, in the books that wand saved his life more times than I can remember. I don't plan for Harry to get in to many confrontations with Voldemort but it will help, just in case.

"Excuse me," I say cheerfully in order to garner the attention of my brother and the Wandmaker.

"Oh, Heather! I finally got my wand… look at it!" Harry says excitedly while holding his wand out for me to see. I blink in confusion, the wand looks slightly different than what I remember from the books.

"Wow Harry, it's gorgeous, Congratulations! What kind is it?"

"My wand is made with 11" rowan wood and a phoenix feather core. But now it's your turn! I know you've been wanting your first wand just as badly as me."

"Another Hogwart's first year? Well I'm certain I'll have the perfect wand for you, Ms…." Ollivander trails off, obviously waiting for me to introduce myself.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ollivander, I'm Heather Potter."

"There's another Potter? I'm sorry my dear, I've only heard of your brother."

"That's fine sir."

Mr. Ollivander steps back onto his ladder and begins searching one of the upper shelves. He finally pulls out two different wands and offers the first one to me, for a moment I feel a slight warmth but after a couple of seconds a spell shoots out of the tip, exploding yet another vase in the shop.

"That's a light no, so try this one."

When I take the second wand in my hand a light wind begins to circle around me as if greeting an old friend.

Wow. That was so simple compared to the Knell's wand store, but I think I have ended up with two very good wands. I just hope they get along with one another.

"11.5" Vinewood with Dragon Heartstring core, an excellent choice."

"You found a wand so much faster than I did!" Harry says indignantly, as if multiple wands rejecting him is a horrible crime.

"Hey, the wand chooses the wizard," I say quoting Mr. Ollivander. The Wandmaker himself hears me, and breaks out into a soft chuckle.

"How much for our wands, Mr. Ollivander?" I ask.

"14 galleons for the pair."

Harry hands over 14 galleons from the bag of money that he got from our parent's vault. As we leave the store, Harry and I chorus, "Goodbye and Thank you!"

Hagrid greets us with a gruff, "Now ya' two have everythin' for Hogwarts. It's time to return ta' the Dursleys."

Harry groans and I can't help but laugh.

He doesn't even remember how bad it was when we were younger, how often we got beaten and went without food. His life at the Dursleys has been much easier since we obtained money from the muggle stock market. Unfortunately, that means his life has been much better than Dumbledore expected. I'm really glad that I now have two wands. I will be able to use my Vinewood wand in class and in front of the students and staff. Nobody, especially Dumbledore, would believe that a student is paranoid enough to have a wand hidden on their body constantly. It will be a nasty surprise if I get attacked or lose my vinewood wand in combat. My Acacia will be another one of my secret weapons.

Yes Harry's wand is made out of a different wood on purpose! And yes it is still the "brother wand" to Voldemort's! I hope the reason why Heather got a second wand is now obvious. If you read the descriptions of their wand woods and cores on Pottermore you may be pleasantly surprised by what you find out! What do you think of Heather's American wand? Why do you think it choose to acknowledge her, an English witch? I hope you guys know that Thunderbird and Horned Serpent are houses at Ilvermorny!

*Chapter 13*: King's Cross Station


Author's Note:

Almost to Hogwarts! This will be my last update until Sunday 9/25/16. I'm preparing for a huge test that I have on Tuesday. Wish me luck!



August 31, 1991

For the entire month of August the Dursleys ignored Harry and I; their experience with Hagrid had only confirmed their belief that wizards are a troublesome lot who should be avoided at all costs. This arrangement suited Harry and me perfectly, because we were able to focus on our projects, and we are used to being ignored anyways. Before I turned six years old I completed my first ageing potion without Remus knowing, and snuck off to Diagon Alley to purchase the single most expensive item that I've ever bought, a specialized wizarding tent. The tent consists of two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, living area and a specially vented room that I designated as my potion's lab. Each of the rooms change their decorations and arrangement based on the preferred style of the witch or wizard who occupies it; but the very best part of the tent is the outside of it because it appears to be a tarp strung over a string and only able to fit one person. Due to this magical application, the tent fit perfectly into our room at the Dursleys. To this day it is still the most expensive item that I have ever bought, but it has served Harry and I very well and will continue to do so in the future.

This month I finally completed my Felix Felicis' potion and successfully converted the "liquid luck" into a few tiny golden pills. Upon its completion I was giddy for days, as almost every potion known to the British world is carefully stored in my necklace in the form of muggle pills. Truthfully there are a few pills that haven't been tested for their strength and effectiveness yet; this is because they are very dangerous potions, which means that I may need to access magic if something goes wrong, so I'm waiting until I'm at Hogwarts to properly confirm their true properties.

"Heather" Harry calls as he knocks on the door to my potion's lab.

"Come in Harry," I reply while carefully storing the golden pills with the others in the bag around my neck.

"Actually, can you come out here?"

"Uhhh.. sure." I open the door of my lab and find Harry holding Fawn and Hedwig on both of his arms, and Emerald wrapped around his neck.

"We need to decide what we are going to do with them," Harry says as I reach out for Emerald and let her slither up my arm.

I look down at the grass snake who is now three and half feet long, "Are you coming to Hogwarts with me?"

My longtime friend tilts her head in amusement, "Of courssse not, I am almost sssseventeen yearss old and have been living in my current territory for mossst of that time. I do not want to abandon the place that hassss allowed me to hatch many offssspring."

"Harry and I won't be able to provide you with any food while we are at school."

"I know, but you will be coming back in the hot season, yesss?"

"Of course!"

"Then visssit me and bring food when you return…" here Emerald pauses, considering, "Heather, come sssee me in the morning."

"I will." With my promise, Emerald slides to the floor and leaves the apartment likely returning to her nest full of unhatched eggs.

"Now Harry…" I continue, "Why don't you ask Fawn if he is coming with us to Hogwarts?"

Harry frowns and starts sniffling already knowing what the owl's answer will be, "Fawn, will you be coming with us?"

The owl hoots, runs his beak affectionately through Harry's hair and flaps his wings, before aggressively flying out the apartment window which perfectly aligns with the Dursley's.

"Harry it can't be helped that he said no, he has a mate and owlets right now. And we did steal him from the wild when he was a fledgling."

Harry wipes a few tears from his eyes, "He was my first friend."

I lean over to wrap my arms around my brother comfortingly, "I know, but we are going to start making new friends at Hogwarts tomorrow!"

September 1, 1991

It is midmorning and I am busily packing and organizing the rest of the stuff that Harry and I plan to bring to Hogwarts, which in retrospect is everything that we own. Yesterday night we took everything out of the apartment that we will need in our dorm rooms and in our classes. So all I have left is to fold the tent into a perfect square and place it in my bag necklace. When I finish all that is left in the Dursley's bedroom is the twin bed that Harry and I shared as children, our trunks full of clothes and school supplies and Hedwig's cage. The owl herself is missing because we told her last night that we will meet her at Hogwarts. When we woke up this morning she was already gone. Harry and I manage to get both of our trunks downstairs and out the Dursley's front door when I remember that I still need to visit Emerald like I promised. I leave Harry on the Dursley's driveway with our trunks and run towards the forest. When I near Emerald's nest, I slow down making sure that I make a lot of noise, because I don't want to startle her; she is very protective of her unhatched eggs.

"Emerald?" I call out.

A dark green and brown head pokes out of the dirt hole, "Heather?"

"Yes, it's me."

The head disappears back into the hole and suddenly something is being pushed out of her nest; I first notice the faint blue glow before recognizing that it's coming from a bluish grey spherical object. The object is about the size of an apple. Emerald slithers out of her hole, "I want you to have thisss."

"What is it?" I ask bending down to look at the sphere. I note that its exterior is made out of a thin membranous-like material and the blue glow seems to flicker as I stare at it.

Magic? Where did Emerald get this? What is it?
Emerald hesitates before answering, "It appeared in my nesst a couple of daysss ago and it givesss off a comforting sscent, imitating the one that my own eggsss have. When you mentioned leaving yesssterday I got a strong ssense that I should give it to you."

Well that's kind of weird, but if I'm meant to have it, then so be it.

With a weird sense of forbidding and Deja-vu I reach my hand out towards the sphere. Sure Heather, just touch the ominous sphere. What could possibly happen?

As my fingers make contact with it, the faint blue light disappears and blue sparks begin dancing across the membrane stinging my fingers painfully; I try to pull my fingers away but they are stuck inside the gel-like membrane. Warmth travels down my arm towards the sphere while I struggle to get my fingers out. That's when I realize it, that warmth… my magic… it's sucking away at my magic! With renewed purpose I try banging the sphere on the ground expecting the thin membrane to break easily with force and release my fingers, but I meet a large shield of resistance. It's too strong! Just as I remember my wand in its wrist holster the sucking sensation disappears and my fingers are released from the sphere. Breathing heavily, I stare down at the sphere which has stopped sparking and now lays on the ground, once again emitting its soft blue glow.

What the hell just happened? I'm pretty sure the sphere was trying to drain me of every drop of magic. It wasn't even draining my magic normally, like casting a bunch of spells would... it was draining my entire magical essence, like it was trying to make me a squib. I better make sure that nobody else touches it. Imagine the horror that would befall the wizarding world if Harry were to touch it and suddenly become a squib.

I roll my shoulders experimentally trying to determine if the sphere had been doing anything else while it wouldn't release my fingers.

"Emerald, did you notice what was happening while the stone was glued to my fingers?"

The snake tilts her head, thinking, "The special energy, magic, that is contained within your body most of the time, seemed to be heading towards the object."

"Seriously? All I felt was warmth travelling down my arm and towards the sphere."

"Well… that is interesssting…" Emerald hisses looking at the blue sphere with focused attention.

"Yes, well… I have to get going, Harry and I have a train to catch." I pull my silk handkerchief out of my jean pocket and carefully pick up the sphere, wrap it in the silk and put it in the darkest corner of my necklace bag.

Guess this is something that I'll have to deal with later.

I hurriedly return to the Dursley's house checking my wristwatch as I go, it reads 10 o'clock in the morning. Shit. The Dursley's can't drive us to King's Cross in the hour we have left. Guess we'll have to take the other way.

"Heather! We are going to miss the Hogwart's train thanks to you!" Harry yells at me angrily as I run up to him.

"No we aren't! Hurry up and help me with these trunks, pull them down the drive way!"

I pull my vine wand out of my back pocket and it tingles delightedly but feeling dumb I hold it out towards the curve.


I'm knocked onto my butt with my wand hanging out stupidly in front of me. I look up into the eyes of an old man with gray dreadlocks. He promptly offers me a hand, "Two tickets then?"

"Yes please, to King's Cross station," I reply.

"Off to Hogwarts?" he asks loading our trunks onto the bus.

"Yes!" Harry practically sings, joy evident in his voice.

"I remember those days, you kids will have fun there and don't worry about the time, ole' Ernie here will get you to the station in no time."

The old man hands us our tickets as we take our seats in the middle of the bus. Both Harry and I watch out the windows in amazement as we move ridiculously fast and recklessly through traffic. We reach King's Cross in record time with 25 minutes left until 11 o'clock. As Harry and I exit the bus I pay for our tickets and leave a large tip for both the old man and Ernie. I'm really happy that they didn't even ask who we are. And they got us to the station on time!

Our trunks are set onto the curb and I ask Harry to fetch two trolleys from the entrance. Once our trunks are loaded and much easier to move, we hurriedly walk towards the muggle train station. However before we reach the entrance I notice a small blue car and a huge family of red heads, I can't help but grin, "Harry, I saw that family in Diagon Alley when we went with Hagrid! They must be going to Hogwarts too! Should we ask them how to get onto the 9 ¾ platform?"

"Uhh… okay?" he replies hesitantly.

He's still not used to me asking him what we should do. I'm only trying to build your leadership skills Harry! Don't rely on me to make all the decisions!

Even if he's hesitant I know that he has always wondered what a true wizarding family is like.

I know it's a bit of a risk because the Weasleys are so close to Dumbledore, but Ron was Harry's best friend and feeding Dumbledore a little information on purpose will be super beneficial. Well that is if Dumbledore even relies on Ron as a source of information. It's kind of doubtful due to his immature personality in the original series.

I pull Harry towards the part of the family that is now walking towards the station with their own trolleys; but as we get closer I push him in front of me.

"Umm… excuse me?" he calls out to them.

One of the taller boys taps his mom's shoulder and gestures at Harry.

"Yes, dear?" she asks confused.

"Would you please show my sister and me how to get onto platform 9 ¾? We don't know how to get on it, but we recognize your family because we saw you in Diagon Alley."

The plump woman immediately breaks out into a huge grin, "First time to Hogwarts then? It's Ron's first year too!" She indicates a gangly redheaded boy who is slightly taller than both Harry and I. Surprisingly the boy, Ron, steps forward to shake our hands, "As my mum said, I'm Ron, Ron Weasley, nice to meet you!"

"My name is Harry Potter and this is my twin, Heather."

The youngest Weasley, a girl, gasps loudly, "Oh my god! You're Harry Potter?" she squeals.

Their entire family is staring at us with stunned expressions, and I can't help but giggle softly. It snaps the majority of the family out of their trance and the Weasley twins step forward to introduce themselves.

"I'm Fred."

"And I'm George."

"And we want"

"to know if Harry's got"

"… the scar."

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley scolds loudly.

"I don't mind, mam'. I have it, see?" Harry says while pushing his bangs off his forehead.

"Wicked!" Ron says loudly, while everyone takes the time to study Harry's lightning shaped scar.

"Yes well, Let's hurry along everyone! We need to get to the barrier quickly," commands Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ron walk together, discussing Hogwarts and their favorite Quidditch teams. The Weasley daughter who introduces herself as Ginny, walks alongside me, and finally gets the guts to ask, "Heather? Do you have a scar too?"

I notice that although Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and the oldest, Percy, have the decency to not look as if they are listening they are waiting for my response too.

"No Ginny, I don't have a scar like Harry."

"That must mean, he-who-must-not-be-named didn't try to kill you!"

"I guess so… I don't really remember much about that night, but Harry will tell you he faintly recalls a lot of green light."

"That's amazing… Harry must be an excellent wizard," the girl sighs with a dreamy expression on her face.

Amazing. This 10 year old girl already has a crush on my brother.

"I guess."

"Ahh, this is it children," Mrs. Weasley says as we reach the wall between platforms 9 and 10.

"Percy, you first! Then Fred and George!"

The three older Weasleys run through the barrier one at a time, "Alright Harry and Ron, you two next!"

I can tell that Harry has to mentally prepare himself before he runs at the wall, but he passes through effortlessly and Ron quickly follows.

"Heather, your turn." Molly says to me.

I nod and hold onto my cart tightly as I run at the barrier, but when I hit it I feel a smidge of resistance and moving through the barrier feels like I'm swimming through mud.

That was weird. None of the books ever described the feeling of passing through the barrier like that?

Molly and Ginny appear behind me and we move towards the boys, minus Percy, who are loading their stuff into a compartment towards the back of the train. Fred and George put my stuff in the same compartment as Harry's. They joke about their friend Lee, wondering aloud if the boy was actually able to sneak an Acromantula into King's Cross. I spot Percy walking towards his mother and Ginny in his brand new robes, the giant P badge, shinning perfectly on his chest.

I overhear him, "Alright I'm off, the prefects have the first two train compartments. Bye Mum, Ginny."

Fred, George and Ron get off the train in order to say their goodbyes to Mrs. Weasley and Ginny while Harry and I wave good-bye from our compartment.

The twins say goodbye to us as well, once again mentioning their friend Lee. They even ask if we want to join them and I shake my head. I don't want to meet an Acromantula just quite yet.

"Bye, Fred and George! It was nice to meet you." I call after their retreating forms.

Heather finished her potion's project! That's pretty exciting! AND the Potter Twins met the Weasley family. What are your opinions? Are Harry and Ron still going to become good friends? Will Heather accept him? Will Dumbledore ask Ron to spy on Harry? What do you think about Heather almost losing all of her power to a mysterious object? How will this change her plans? She's really magically weak now... uhh oh.

My Version of Heather getting magic drained: This is important to the overall plot and if I want to write The Chamber of Secrets it will be super significant. Heather had her MAGICAL ESSENCE drained. Consider - magic is contained in a "pool" inside her body. The sphere not only drained the water but also made her overall pool smaller! Sorry for any confusion - obviously the reason for this scene will become obvious later on.

*Chapter 14*: Train Ride


Author's Note:

I know I said I wouldn't update until Sunday... but this is a short chapter and I edited it fairly quickly.

Seriously though - next update won't be until Tuesday night (9/27) after my test.

Love you guys! :)



September 1, 1991

Harry and I are sitting alone in the compartment when Ron knocks on the sliding door, "Mind if I join you guys?" he asks politely.

"Not at all!" Harry says with a grin; I can tell that he already likes the other boy.

As they struggle to put Ron's trunk into a third compartment above our heads, I can't help but to announce, "I'm so excited!"

Harry laughs, "Heather usually you're so laid back about everything!"

I frown and say with a childish voice and expression, "Am not!"

Both Harry and I begin to crack up, remembering when that was Harry's favorite argument. Our laughter must be contagious because soon Ron is joining in, and when we stop I ask him, "So what house do you want to be in?"

"I'll probably be in Gryffindor like the rest of my family, how about you two?"

"I want to be in Gryffindor too! They're known for being brave and loyal." Harry chimes in.

I nod, "I also really want to be in Gryffindor, both of our parents and their friends were there."

I'll also be able to keep a better eye on Harry if I am in the same house. And I've always wanted to see the Gryffindor Common room… and dorm rooms… and the fat lady… and oh! There's so much I want to see at Hogwarts! The novels said that the Sorting Hat takes into consideration what the witch or wizard wants… so if Gryffindor isn't the first place it wants to put me, I'll have to ask it.

Ron grins, "Then we'll all be in the same house together! I'm glad I'll know people other than my brothers. Fred and George love to pulls pranks on me…"

A giggle slips out of my mouth, "Maybe that's how they show you their affection!"

Harry nods, "They seem like they could show you the ins and outs of the castle too."

If only he knew just how true that statement is…

"Anything off the Trolley, dears?" An old woman asks popping her head into our compartment.

"No thanks, I'm fine." Ron says in a monotone voice.

Harry jumps up after noticing how disappointed Ron looks, "We'll take the lot!"

Just like the movie… I think they'll still be best friends this time around.

Harry comes back into the compartment with sweets packed in his arms which he quickly dumps onto the space between us. As he moves to dig in, I pipe up, "You can have some too, Ron! You'll be helping us out, there's no way we'll be able to finish everything."

Ron smiles at me, "Really? Thanks!" He grabs a Cauldron Cake and rapidly devours it.

Boys… who knows where they put all the food they eat.

Harry opens a chocolate frog, "Watch out," Ron mumbles through a mouthful of food as we watch the frog take a giant leap towards the window. I grab the frog before it can make the final hop and hand it back to Harry.

"Is it alive?" I ask Ron innocently.

"No, it's just enchanted to seem like a real frog! Go ahead Harry, eat it!"

A little weirded out, I watch Harry take a cautious bite out of the frog's moving leg. Luckily it immediately stops moving and I let out a sigh of relief. I reach over for the card that comes with the Chocolate frog, and unlike the movies, the card shows a picture of the witch Circe. "Look Harry! This lady is moving in the picture!"

He turns towards me with one eyebrow raised mockingly, "Really? That's awesome!" He looks over at the picture, following me in the effort to seem ignorant about some aspects of the wizarding world.

"Didn't you know? All photos in the magical world move." Ron pitches in.

Harry replies, "In the muggle world, they don't."


The three of us sat mostly in silence for a short period of time, I was quite interested in all of the characters on the chocolate frog cards and the boys were stuffing their faces. However it wasn't long before Ron pulled out an old scrappy rat that appeared to be deep in sleep. This asshole. If it weren't for getting Sirius' innocence declared, I would poison you here and now.

"You have a rat?" Harry asks him, with a slight look of disgust.

Good thing that pet rat at St. Harold's bit Harry, otherwise he wouldn't be as prejudiced against rats.

"His name is Scabbers, he's been in my family for ages! Pathetic isn't he?"

"He is." I say while staring at the rat intently.

"Fred and George gave me a spell that's supposed to turn him yellow, want to see?"


Ron's wand waving is interrupted by a knock on our compartment door which quickly swings open revealing a small bushy haired brunette girl and a round worried boy.

The girl says exasperatedly, "Have you seen a toad? Neville here's lost one."

So these children are Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. They're quite adorable.

"We haven't seen a toad," I go to say before she interrupts, "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see then!"

I narrow my eyes considerably. I knew she would be a know-it-all but seriously? His spell won't even work!

Ron clears his throat pointedly, more nervous now that he has an audience, "Sunshine, Daisies…"

He trails off as I lean forward to whisper in his ear, "Colovaria!" he finishes while brandishing his old disfigured wand at the rat.

"Wow!" he practically shouts as Peter turns a slight shade of yellow.

Hmm… I had wondered if that spell would actually work on an animagus.

We all clap our hands excitedly, "That was awesome Ron!" Harry states enthusiastically.

Hermione looks at me pointedly, "Did you tell him to use that spell?"

I wonder if she's trying to scope out the academic competition.

I put on a slightly shocked expression, "Me? No! I was telling him how good his wand waving is!"

Hermione huffs in disappointment, never suspecting that a fellow student would lie about knowing something. Even Ron wears a slightly perplexed expression upon hearing my explanation. They're so obvious… at least I've managed to teach Harry some useful life skills already. Not everything you're thinking needs to be displayed on your face.

I can't help but to continue, "Harry and I…"

"Harry? Harry Potter?" Hermione interjects once again.

I burst out, "Excuse me! It's rude to interrupt someone when they're talking!"

Thankfully she looks somewhat put out upon being scolded, but she still looks eagerly towards Harry. She's going to strain her neck trying to see his scar that way.

I pointedly look at Harry, and he moves his forehead locks out of the way so Neville and Hermione can see his scar.

"Whoa!" Neville says, nearly mirroring Ron's expression when he first saw it.

"So you're Harry Potter! I've read all about you in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century!"

Harry looks at her curiously, "I'm in more than one book? Was Heather mentioned as well?"

Hermione turns towards me curiously, "Why would she be?"

Harry blinks in confusion, "Heather's my sister."

Hermione looks a little stunned that she doesn't know something. I can't help but to glance at Neville and ask, "Have you heard of me before?"

He nods, "My gran hears all the wizarding world gossip, although it was only a rumor that there was another Potter child."

My eyes widen slightly and Harry has a weird expression on his face, "Harry?" I ask carefully.

"Why is it that everyone writes about me and knows who I am, but not you?"

Oh, shit. I haven't told him that he managed to defeat one of the greatest Dark Wizards of all time. He only knows that Voldemort killed our parents and tried to kill him too.

"Don't you know? You defeated one of the greatest Dark Wizards ever, when you were just a baby!"

Harry's face stills and slowly melts into the blank expression that we worked on perfecting together. It's a useful tool when you're trying to hide your emotions from other people.

"Did I really?" he asks slowly, turning to me for confirmation, I nod my head slightly.

"Of course you did! You're the reason that muggleborns are still accepted into the Wizarding world!"

"Muggleborns?" I ask innocently.

"Wizards and Witches that are born from muggles." Neville answers.

"I see." Harry's expression turns to one of deep consideration, and I know he'll be pounding me for answers later.

I grab two Cauldron cakes and offer them to Hermione and Neville, "Would you two like to sit with us? I'm sure your toad will turn up eventually. You'll have more fun with us, rather than looking for it the whole way there."

These two are going to be some of Harry's biggest allies and friends. I think it's best to start the friendship sooner rather than later.

Neville nods taking the proffered cake and sits down next to Ron.

Hermione complains, "But… our trunks…"

"Don't worry, you can fetch them right before we reach the station at Hogwarts."

Hermione finally concedes, because she isn't able to find a flaw in my logic.

"What are your names?" Ron pipes up.

"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Neville Longbottom, what's yours?"

"I'm Ron Weasley."

A loud snort comes from the door of our compartment, "Did you just say you're a Weasley?"

The pale lanky boy from Madam Malkin's is standing there, flanked by two chubby boys; they are all wearing expressions of amusement.

Ron says defensively, "Yeah… so what?"

Draco, the arrogant little prick, continues, "My father says that you're all a bunch of blood traitors. A family with so many children that they can't afford to properly feed and clothe them."

Neville frowns when "blood traitors" are mentioned and Hermione is watching the exchange with rapt fascination and wary confusion. Ron gapes angrily like a fish and I wait for it…

"Why don't you tell your father to stop gossiping like an old woman?" A loud voice says, Harry has finally snapped out of his funky mood. I grin in satisfaction, Harry has always defended his friends admirably. I think it's a trait he inherited from our father.

Ron looks really thankful that Harry's defending him so adamantly. I think Harry has just gained his first true friend at Hogwarts.

"What did you just say, do you know who I am? Who my father is?"

"I don't care who your father is. Why did you come here if your only intention was to insult us?"

Draco frowns, "I heard that Harry Potter is in this compartment, but I don't think he's here. Why would someone like that hang out with a bunch of losers like you lot?"
"I'm Harry Potter and the only losers that I see, are you three."
"Just you wait Potter. My father will be hearing about this. You can bet there will be consequences."

I can't hold back any longer after almost hearing one of Draco's go-to lines, "Do you always cry to your daddy? Want me to get you a pacifier too?"

Everyone in the compartment laughs, even Crabbe and Goyle can't hold back their snickers. Draco gives them a quick glare before turning towards me, we lock eyes, my bright purple to his stormy grey, and I raise one eyebrow when I see recognition appear in his.

"You! You're that filthy mud-blood from Madam Malkin's!"

Ron and Neville gasp in horror but I know better than to react, it will only goad him on. Harry however pulls out his wand, pointing it straight at Draco, "I think its best that you leave. Now!"

Draco sniffs and with one more glance towards me, he says, "You're right, I shouldn't be around blood traitors and mud-bloods for too long."

I call after his retreating figure, "Good bye, boy with a stick way too far up his ass!"

Our compartment once again bursts into giggles but a little bit of the tension remains.

"I can't believe he called you… that! It's a horrible thing to call someone in our world.. awful really. And you? You're actually Harry Potter's sister which makes it all the worse."

"No. It's not worse because I'm Harry Potter's sister, it's wrong to call anyone a mud-blood!"

"Who was that boy? And what's a mud-blood?" Hermione asks carefully.

The boys turn to look at me pleadingly and I sigh, "That was Draco Malfoy, Harry and I met him once before in Diagon Alley, as you can see… he's not very nice. And mud-bloods… they're witches and wizards born from muggles."

"I thought we were called muggle-borns?"

"You are, mud-blood is a derogatory word. They're implying that if you have muggle blood than you're dirty and not.." I pause, not wanting to continue because the young Hermione is known for desperately wanting to prove herself.

"worthy of being in the magical world." Neville finishes my sentence.

"Of course, it's utter bolox!" Ron complains, "The only people who believe in that nonsense nowadays are the old arrogant families like the Malfoys. They think they're better than everyone else because they can trace their magical heritage for centuries, and have money exploding out of their ears."

"Rather than listen to their nonsense Hermione, we should just avoid them or learn some hexes to use when they're being particularly nasty." I smile when Hermione gasps at my statement.

"We aren't allowed to hex people without being in a duel! It's one of the rules!"

"It's only a rule that you've broken… if you get caught."

All of the boys grin when I mention my blatant lack of regard for the rules.

"I could never! I don't want to be kicked out of Hogwarts." Hermione protests.

"Okay how about this? If any of them messes with you, you can come to me and I'll hex them for you."

Harry stares at me with wide eyes, I've never offered protection or even a slight version of friendship to anyone except him.

"You can come to me too." Harry tells her, swayed by my decision to help the girl.

The other boys nod, "We'll help too!"

Suddenly I put my hand out, Harry realizing what I want, places his on top of mine and indicates that the other three children do the same. "Friends?" I ask them looking each of them in the eyes intently.

"Friends!" They chorus cheerfully.

I know it's bad to ask children to be our allies, but they will be a powerful witch and wizards in the future. The more support Harry has, either young or old, the better his life and fight will go.

This was a fun little chapter to write. Neville and Hermione are becoming friends with Harry and Heather much faster than in canon. What else will her presence change? We got to see Harry stick his neck out for Ron a little in this chapter, hopefully this will persuade Ron to look out for Harry a little bit in return? The little scenes with Draco are always fun to write; Heather appears to like pushing his buttons, probably because he's so arrogant and rude.

Please R&R. The next chapter is the Sorting!

*Chapter 15*: The Sorting Hat

First Draft posted: 9/27/16

First Revision posted: 11/13/16

September 1, 1991

I can tell that Hermione's delighted to have friends as she enthusiastically discusses anything magical, particularly spells that she has learned about from her reading. I zone out, content to listen to their idle chatter as I stare out the window. A pair of stormy grey eyes float through my mind and I sigh because they remind me of another pair.

What am I going to do about Draco and Sirius? One is an arrogant daddy's boy and the other has already been in Azkaban for ten years. There has to be something that I can do. Sirius needs to be released as soon as possible, the faster I can think of a way to do this, the better. I considered breaking him out illegally, but I don't have the magical power to pull that off now, nor do I have the right contacts. I really want to get him out of the system legally so that he won't have to look over his shoulder and he'll be able to freely live his life. Of course that involves revealing Peter's existence. Hmm..

A castle, not too far off in the distance, passes through my field of vision, "Neville, Hermione, you should go back to your compartment. We'll be there soon."

"Okay, we'll catch you guys later." Neville says opening the door for Hermione.

"We need to change! You two can change first and I'll wait outside." I tell Ron and Harry as I follow Neville and Hermione out, shutting the door behind me.

I sit patiently on the floor outside the compartment, closing my eyes, and listening to the excited voices that swirl around the hallway in conversations that blur together.

"Look! There's Hogwarts!"

"Whoa… it's amazing. Just like a fairy tale castle!"

"I wonder what house I'll be sorted into?"

"Hey check out this hot girl!"

"Did you see the last Quidditch match?"

"I heard Harry Potter's starting this year!"

"Snape still didn't get the DADA position?"

"I wonder if there will be any cute boys in my classes…"

"Look! A tentacle from the giant squid!"

The compartment door slides open revealing Ron and Harry who are both nicely dressed in their Hogwarts robes. I stand up, "Okay, my turn! Stay out here."

I quickly change into my Hogwarts' robe and uniform, admiring the way they fit perfectly to my body.

This is even nicer than our St. Harold's uniform. Then again… we did pay for all the fun perks that magic can give our clothes.

I open the compartment door so the boys can step back in, "Shall we get our trunks down? I want to be one of the first people off."

"Sure! I can't wait to see the castle!" Harry says.

We manage to get all three of our trunks off the racks without any problems. A few minutes later the train jerks to a stop and we quickly hustle out of the compartment and down the train steps. An attendant tells us to drop our trunks on to some magical cart which will transport our luggage to the castle and up to our rooms.

"Fir' years, this way, this way!" a booming voice calls out across the sea of students.

As we approach the giant man, Harry calls out, "Hagrid!"

"Ther' ya are, Harry n' Heather, 'ad a nice trip?"

"Yes. Thank you." I say smiling up at him.

"Alrigh' onto the boats wit' ya."

Ron, Harry and I clamber into one of the nearest boats and a petite blonde girl climbs in after us.

"Hello, what's your name?" I ask the girl politely.

"I'm Hannah… Abbott."

Oh! Neville's future wife… she's rather timid, isn't she?

"Nice to meet you Hannah, I'm Heather. Are you excited for the sorting?"

"I'm scared… I heard that you have to fight a troll."

I giggle, "I don't think that's true, at the most they'll make us jump into the lake with the giant squid!"

"That's even worse!" Hannah says, a frightened expression appearing on her face.

"I'm only joking, don't worry, we probably won't have to do anything."

The boats stop alongside a large dock which allows everyone to exit safely. We then proceed to follow Hagrid up a large flight of giant stone steps. A huge pair of marvelously decorated wooden doors greet us at the top, and they swing open with a light push, the castle is welcoming us with open arms. When our group enters the castle, gasps and cries of delight are heard amongst the first years.

Wow, this is quite the entrance. A huge greeting that screams, "Welcome to the ancient school of Hogwarts".

A tall woman, with dark black hair pulled into a strict bun, stands near the entranceway.

"Professor McGonagall, here's the firs' years." Hagrid says proudly.

"Thank you Hagrid. First years, this way please." She announces loudly leading the group further into the castle. She takes us to a tight hallway, next to what I presume is the Great Hall, based upon the loud roar of voices that are coming from that direction. Harry and Ron stick close to me, and I spot Neville and Hermione on the other side of the tight space. Professor McGonagall begins speaking again, "The feast will begin in a moment, but first we must get you sorted into your Houses. While you are here, your houses will be like your family. You will eat, sleep and attend classes together. The four Houses are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin. During your stay, your triumphs will earn you points, any rule-breaking, however and you will lose points. At the end of the year the points will be totaled and the winning house will win the house cup, a prestigious honor. I hope you will each be a credit to your house."

What a long and boring speech. Yet some of these children are looking completely awestruck and scared; some even look confused, you would think that their parents would encourage them to read some books, at the very least, regarding the school that they have been invited to attend.

"I shall return when we are ready for you; I suggest you spend the remaining time preparing yourselves." She enters the Great Hall leaving our packed group of first years alone in the hallway.

"Harry, let's go stand near Neville and Hermione," I suggest, "We might end up in the same house and it'll be nice to know some people inside."

"Sure Heather." He leads Ron and I through the crowd towards the other two children. As we weave our way through, I notice that the whispers and point are beginning again as the children catch sight of his scar. The three of us pointedly ignore the stares and gestures.

"Hermione! Neville!" I exclaim happily when we reach the pair.

"Oh, Hey." Neville says a little glumly.

Hermione smiles at us and immediately starts talking, "I heard we have to do some sort of test during the Sorting! What spells do you think we'll need to use? I've only done a few simple ones myself and hopefully we won't need to use anything complex…"

Harry says, "Don't worry Hermione. Heather was just telling us on the boat ride here that it's actually a huge joke amongst the older students to scare the younger ones before the Sorting."

"And how does Heather know this..?" she asks looking at me inquisitively.

"Oh, I read about the Sorting Hat in a book."

"Which one? I'd like to read it. Even Hogwarts, A History didn't mention it too much."
"I forgot."

Hermione frowns in obvious disappointment but Neville simply looks relieved that he won't have to fight a troll or swim with the Giant Squid. I feel a sudden urge to look around the room, and when I do, my eyes clash with another set. Malfoy is shooting daggers from his eyes, glaring at me with an intense dislike, and I can't help but to giggle at his obviousness. When he realizes that I'm laughing at him, his frown deepens and he turns away from me; he is surrounded by what I presume is a group of young purebloods. This peaks my interest and I study each of them curiously, trying to determine who is who. The descriptions in the original series regarding the side characters, and particularly the Slytherins, weren't all that great but I am certain that I can identify a few. Crabbe and Goyle are easy to recognize because I already met them on the train. Otherwise there is a tall and very slim brunette boy, who gives off a quiet yet intelligent demeanor, and a loud-mouthed girl with black hair and a medium stature. I immediately recognize the loud mouthed girl as Pansy Parkinson, simply because she was always noted in the books as following Draco around like a lost puppy. Sure enough, the girl is already drooling over every word that Draco says, I'm reminded of Ginny Weasley and her expression of awe when she met my brother. The lanky boy on the other hand, I don't recognize.

Must be some minor character who wasn't mentioned very often in the original series. I wonder why he's already hanging around with Draco's gang?

My mind finally turns back to my friends but before I can rejoin the conversation, Professor McGonagall returns, "The sorting ceremony is about to begin, follow me."

She leads us out of the small hallway and towards the main doors of the Great Hall, but before we make our grand entrance she pauses, giving us a bit of time to steel ourselves. I shiver nervously and grab onto Harry's sleeve, seeking a little comfort and giving some in return. He turns towards me with a worried look.

Imagine a full grown woman seeking comfort from a little boy, just because she hates being the center of attention. I feel ridiculous. Come on Heather. Pull it together, this is nothing compared to Voldemort. You don't want to seem like a meek girl who relies on her brother, do you?

I force myself to smile and release his sleeve, "I'm okay," I mouth to him.

Finally, McGonagall pushes open the doors, the same ones that were open when we first entered the little side hall. Hundreds of pairs of eyes turn towards the small group of first years, and I watch as Harry visibly straightens himself. The first years walk down the center of the Great Hall, many of them admiring the decorations that adorn the walls and ceiling.

The floating candles are a particularly gorgeous touch, kudos to the decoration talents of the Headmaster.

"The ceiling is bewitched to look like the night sky, I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." Hermione mumbles her famous quote; Harry nods in agreement, having recognized the enchantment as well.

Ron and Neville wear expressions of awe as they look around the room, but my focus is on the people making up the Head table.

Ahhh… Albus Dumbledore. Here you are on your home turf and in your natural environment. I can't wait to knock you from this position of power.

I'm not really worried about Dumbledore's manipulative tendencies for the moment because, from what I remember, he doesn't interact with Harry too much in the first year. This year will probably be the same, he is so sure in his abilities and in everyone's adoration that he won't suspect the two Potter children are different from what he hoped. I don't see him taking the time to personally introduce himself in order to ascertain what we are truly like, no, he'll rely on the reports of our teachers instead.

The other people that occupy the table are all very easy to recognize. The tiny man sitting on a magical cushion must be Professor Flitwick, the smiling plump older lady, Professor Sprout, and the hooked nose teacher… I search the table curiously, looking for the man that I would recognize as Professor Snape. It's at this time that the sorting hat begins singing its famous song, but I don't bother listening, choosing to continue my search instead. I stop scanning when my eyes meet a dark brown almost black pair of eyes. I smile politely, which causes him to frown and turn towards the teacher, no, Voldemort, who sits next to him.

He really does have a very large nose, but his hair isn't THAT bad; I wonder just how crabby he'll be in our first potion's class?

Finally the sorting hat stops singing and I turn to face Professor McGonagall as she calls out, "When I call your name, please step forward and place the sorting hat on your head. Abbot, Hannah."

The tiny girl with blonde pigtails steps forward nervously and places the hat on her head.


"Bones, Susan."


"Boot, Terry."


"Brocklehurst, Mandy."


"Brown, Lavender."


Oh, Ron's future girlfriend. Well… she looks cute enough now.

"Bulstrode, Millicent."


"Finch-Fletchley, Justin"


"Finnigan, Seamus."


"Granger, Hermione."


I smile largely and clap my hands, proud that Hermione was sorted into her favorite house. Neville soon joins her and predictably Draco goes to Slytherin.

This is the same Sorting that took place in the novels. I really haven't changed anything for the children yet.

The lanky brunette boy that I spotted with Draco earlier, is actually, "Nott, Theodore."

Then it's finally Harry's turn as McGonagall announces, "Potter, Harry."

The whole hall suddenly bursts into chatters with everyone staring and watching my brother intently. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze before he steps forward. Interestingly, it doesn't take very long for the hat to declare, "Gryffindor!"

Wasn't he originally a huge hat stall? That hardly took thirty seconds.

The whole Gryffindor table is in absolute chaos as they greet the famous boy-who-lived, and I glance at Dumbledore. A knowing and confident smile is resting on his face, obviously pleased with this outcome. At last the noise in the Great Hall dies down, enough for Professor McGonagall to call out, "Potter, Heather."

I hear a loud shout, "There's ANOTHER Potter?"

"Which one is she?"

"Is she really his sister?"

"How is she alive?"

"Why wasn't she mentioned as much as Harry?"

"Why isn't she stepping forward?"

"Maybe it's a hoax?"

As the Hall once again fills with noise, I note that there is curiosity once again, but this time it is intertwined with suspicion and doubt.

Its fine… let them have their doubts and suspicions. I'm only here to become a Gryffindor like my parents and my brother. I'm here to protect Harry from Voldemort and Dumbledore, and make sure he keeps up his physical training and soon, magical.

I proudly lift my head, stepping out of the small group of remaining first years, and all eyes turn towards me. I make my way towards the front and lightly sit on the edge of the stool; I hold the Sorting hat in my hands, and squeeze it lightly, before closing my eyes and lifting it to my head.

"Oh… interesting, interesting…"

I'm not interesting, nope. Just a normal girl destined for Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor, huh? I'm not so sure about that."


The hat ignores my question, instead it digs through my mind with greater intensity, "AHH HA! So you're the one they sent this time around."

They? Who do you mean?

The hat hums on my head, obviously lost in thought, "They'll reveal themselves sooner, rather than later. After all, you are theirs to control."

Nobody controls me! I won't let them! I want to be my own person just as much as I want Harry to be his own.

The hat laughs, "Feisty, just like the first time… I wouldn't mind a couple of visits from you this year, if you're up for it. I might even give you a couple of hints, after all I do owe THAT favor."

I really have no idea what you're talking about… aren't you supposed to be Sorting me?

"Ahh, yes. Well… you're obviously intelligent and very brave, no doubt about that. You're loyal, especially towards your family and true friends. But, there is that… you're quite manipulative and considering who you are…"

I need to go to Gryffindor. My whole family's been there. My brother's there! I'm supposed to protect him. You can see that too right? Don't put me in Slytherin, not Slytherin. I'll be too far away from him. And Dumbledore will be suspicious of me!

"Not Slytherin? Exactly what your brother was telling me moments ago. You really should've balanced your personality better my dear."

Balance? That's the same thing the old wand lady was telling me!


Oh, shit.

Who knew at the start of this chapter that Heather would be a Slytherin? Do you think she'll have a rough time in Slytherin because the future "Prince of Slytherin" hates her? Who do you think will be her first friend in Slytherin, if she makes one? What does the Sorting Hat know about the Divine Being and the Founders?

R&R Please!

*Chapter 16*: A Slytherin Introduction


Author's Note:

Hope you all like this chapter!

I'm glad that the site is allowing for the reviews to be read and posted now. I love all of your comments! Keep them coming! :)



September 1, 1991

That stupid hat! I thought it was supposed to take in to consideration MY opinion? Who the hell gave it permission to change that? I'm supposed to be with Harry! When I see that hat again I'm going to give it a piece of my mind! It'll be lucky if I don't take a pair of scissors to it too.

Immediately after the announcement the Hall becomes very quiet, only a few hushed whispers are heard here and there, but most everyone is focused on Harry who is standing up at the Gryffindor table.

"It's fine." I mouth towards him with my back towards the Head table.

He replies by starting to clap loudly. To my utter amazement and happiness, Ron, Neville and Hermione quickly follow suit. Before long most of the student body is clapping along with them, only then do I risk a glance towards the Slytherin table. I'm surprised to find most of them clapping as well, only Draco and the other first years are glaring at me. I make my way towards the table smiling softly and finally decide to sit next to Theodore. After the older students finish congratulating me, I find myself alone with my year-mates. All of whom are giving me looks of disapproval and contempt. Seriously? I must have made a huge impression on Draco, Crabbe and Goyle if they're all looking at me this way. Stupid Slytherin Prince. Stupid Hat. Stupid Dumbledore. Grrr!

When the hat finishes sorting and Blaise Zabini joins our table, Dumbledore stands up at the front of the room, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast I'd like to say a few words… Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Everyone starts clapping and cheering as the feast appears before us and I glance over at the Gryffindor table. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville are all sitting together, laughing and talking boisterously. I should be over there with him. Instead I'm over here in essentially enemy territory. I look up at Dumbledore to find that his eyes are resting on me. When we make eye contact he smiles at me politely, but I can see that old man's gears whirling around in his head, probably pondering over my sorting. Who am I kidding? I was in enemy territory the moment I stepped onto Hogwart's grounds.

The Slytherins, no, the other Slytherins, I correct myself, are beginning to enjoy the feast while talking about their various summer holidays. Most of their holidays are fairly normal as their families traveled to various places around the world. Granted most of the places they visited have some connection to the Wizarding World. I am particularly interested in the vacation of a young blonde girl named Daphne Greengrass. This girl's sister is the one that marries Draco? I wonder why Daphne and him didn't end up together instead? She's obviously going to be gorgeous in the future.

"Their castle isn't nearly as nice as Hogwarts, of course, but it was still nice to see that the United States is putting in a lot of effort to educate their young witches and wizards."

"You really got to go inside Ilvermorny?"

"Yes! My father is friends with their Headmaster and donated money to the school. My younger sister, Astoria, keeps saying how she wants to go there rather than coming to Hogwarts. My parents are adamantly refusing, of course, no matter how nice the school is… it's tradition to come to Hogwarts."

"I heard that they're sorted by a giant door, is that true?"

"No it's actually a Gordian Knot in the floor!"

"Soo… weird! Do they have four houses like us?"

"Uhh huh, they're named after the mythical beasts in America: the Horned Serpent, the Pukwudgie, the Wampus and the Thunderbird."

WHAT!? No wonder I couldn't find any information on those magical creatures in the books written by European witches and wizards! My wand has cores from creatures normally found in the United States? Isn't that kind of obviously hinting at my previous life? But aren't I entirely an English Witch now? I mean… I even have the accent! Oh god, no wonder Madam Knell said my wand cores usually only work with Americans! I'll have to look up some American authors and their magical beast legends.

An arrogant voice interrupts my thoughts, "So, Potter. If that is your real name… How's it feel to be separated from your precious boy-who-lived?"

I turn towards Draco, who apparently switched places with Theodore in order to bug me, "I'm sorry, I think you mumbled, care to say something intelligent?"

The other first years are trying to pretend that they aren't listening to our conversation but are failing horribly. I can't let myself seem weak or they'll eat me alive.

He frowns, "Why did you tell me you were a mud-blood in Diagon Alley?"

"Oh! So you are capable of rational speech, and I'll pretend that I didn't hear you say that nasty word. I never said that I was muggle-born. But I let you believe that I was one, in order to prove you wrong. You seem to think that you can immediately tell the difference between muggle-borns and purebloods. But the truth is that you can't. You only recognize purebloods based off their distinctive family features."

He frowns further, seemingly considering my well thought out argument, "I think the only reason I couldn't tell that you were a Potter is because you look so much like your mud-blood mother."

Some of the other Slytherins start smirking and I can feel my anger bubbling up because of his insult to my mother, but I try to rein it in, controlling my only obviously Gryffindor trait.

My first instinct is to make a quip about easily recognizing him due to his family's inbreeding. Yet most of the Slytherins are purebloods and that would alienate me from them even more. What should I say? What should I do? Think more like a Slytherin… Wait! That's it… maybe I shouldn't rein in my anger.

I release my acacia wand from its holster on my wrist and press it harshly into Draco's stomach. I make sure to position it under the table so that nobody, especially the teachers, can see it. Then I lean forward to whisper in his ear darkly, "Don't you ever call my mother that again, especially in front of me, or you will find yourself in the hospital wing due to a badly timed 'accident'. Do you understand?" I twist my wand harder into his stomach, probably leaving a bruise, as he pales and nods his head. I smile and lean back saying, "Oh Draco, you know how I hate when you use that word. You don't want me to tell everyone about that time you walked out of the restroom with toilet paper hanging out of your shorts, now do you?"

All of the first years burst into laughter and Draco turns a bright shade of pink as I say, "Oh I'm sorry, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, was I?"

Draco angrily sputters, "I didn't, I swear!"

At his flustered protest everyone begins laughing even harder and he glares at me furiously, nearly pushing Theodore back into the seat in order to escape me. Theodore just looks at me in amusement and offers me his hand, "I'm Theodore Nott, nice to meet you."

"I'm Heather Potter and I'm glad to make your acquaintance."

"You know," he says leaning forward to tell me quietly, "I've known Draco since we were children and I've never seen him look that flustered and angry. Then again… I've never seen him wear shorts either." He pulls back and one eyebrow is obviously raised, he is sending out a subtle hint that he doesn't buy my story about seeing Draco with toilet paper hanging out of his pants.

I shrug my shoulders, "Maybe you don't know everything about him. He might want to keep that part of his life… private."

I hope he understands from my intonation and choice of words, that I won't be telling him what I whispered into Draco's ear.

"Fair enough." He nods both pleasure and disappointment waring across his face, "You've hardly touched your food. You should eat more. The chicken and the pumpkin pastries are my favorites."

"Oh? I guess I'll try those then." I help myself to small portions of both, smiling as he does the same.

"Theodore?" I ask cautiously.

"Theo. You can call me Theo."

"Okay, Theo, have you heard of the different houses at Ilvermorny?"

He nods, "I have, but I haven't been to the school like Daphne has."

"Do you know anything about the Horned Snake and the Thunderbird?"

"I know a bit about the Horned Snake because their founder was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin."

"Really?" I ask surprised.

"Yeah apparently the descendant was a woman and she met the Horned Snake in the water near the castle, before it was built, and she spoke with it."

"You mean she spoke Parseltongue?"

"Yes. Since she was a descendant of Slytherin she inherited his talent."

My hidden wand vibrates faintly against my arm, a wave of pleasure is radiating off it. It seems to be pleased with my questioning, and I shiver that it is able to communicate so thoroughly with me. Are wands supposed to be this… communicative? Do they even have emotions? Great, more to look up at the library.

"I see. Do you think there are any books on the subject in the library?"

He shrugs, "There might be. Why all the curiosity in another school though? Shouldn't you be more focused on learning about the one you're in?"

I already know so much about Hogwarts and this is obviously something I need to understand better.

"Of course I'm interested in Hogwarts but I think I'd like to visit Ilvermorny in the future. Daphne's story made it seem so interesting!" I reply innocently.

"You'd need some kind of connection to get you access to their castle." He warns me in a teasing manner.

I waggle my eyebrows at him, "Guess it's a good thing I know you then."

He does a full throated laugh at my expression and I break into a loud laugh as well.

This actually might not be so bad…

I feel a pair of eyes boring into the side of my face so I turn to look for the source, it's Harry. He's lightly frowning at me but I offer him a smile of reassurance and nod towards the rest of his housemates, "Have fun!" I mouth. He turns back to his fellow Gryffindors.

Theo watches the whole exchange and says, "Is this the first time you've been separated from your twin?"

I smile wistfully, "Not exactly, but I get the feeling the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses don't really get along. Which will make this even more difficult."

"You're right. Slytherin and Gryffindor have been rivals since the founding of the school. Many of the students even harbor serious dislike and hatred for one another."

"I don't think that's fair. The hat mentioned that I have qualities from all of the other houses. It only placed me into Slytherin because those characteristics were slightly stronger."

"I wouldn't mention that to other people, particularly Slytherins, we have a great deal of house pride and emphasize our characteristics to their greatest advantage. If they think you have a lot of the other house characteristics it will make you a target, and not in a good way."

I frown at him, a little suspicious, so he holds his hands up in a mock surrender, "I won't say anything, I promise."

Suddenly I nod decisively, "I think we are going to be good friends, Theo."

He pauses with his fork half way to his mouth and his face becomes serious, "I don't know if I want to be friends with a half-blood."

As his statement sinks in I can't help but feel shocked and hurt. I seriously thought we were getting along well. I wanted to make him my first Slytherin friend… how could I be so stupid? These purebloods will only treat me like crap.

His expression softens upon seeing the slightly horrified look on my face, "I was only joking, it was in bad taste, sorry."

"That was horrible and rude." I managed to say, fighting my desire to cry.

"You're going to have to get used to it. You're in Slytherin house now, the home of the proud and proper purebloods. Not everyone is a hardcore pureblood supremacist, but we all agree that something needs to change. Particularly when it comes to dealing with the muggle-borns."

I have a sneaking suspicion that I know what he's talking about. The sad part is that even I'm guilty of thinking along those same lines.

"What do you mean?" I ask quietly.

"They rip muggle-borns out of their world and place them into another. They don't teach them anything about the Magical World or magical common sense. Then they are placed into classes with students that have been exposed to magic, wizarding customs and traditions for their entire lives. It's actually quite cruel because they are expected to succeed and keep up with us. Many of the Slytherins wouldn't be as predjudiced towards muggle-borns if they were taught manners and common sense that is expected in a Wizarding household."

Why does this make so much sense to me? I think it's wrong to expect the muggle-borns to keep up in their classes that are full of purebloods and half-bloods that have been learning this stuff since infancy. Harry and I would probably have struggled to keep up if we hadn't already studied our school books and practiced brewing potions.

"What about 'Blood Traitors' then?"

"That hatred stems mainly from those pureblood supremacists that I mentioned."

I simply nod, "I understand where you're coming from in regards to muggle-borns."

"I'm sorry about my joke earlier. I'd like to be your friend as well."

"Hmm… I'll forgive you. On one condition."

"What?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Will you help me learn the proper manners and common sense expected in the Wizarding world?"

Theo looks at me with surprise but smiles, "Of course."

Good. Hopefully lessons with him will prevent me from making a total fool of myself.

We are interrupted by a fork lightly tapping on a glass and ringing through the Hall as the desserts disappear from the table. Dumbledore is standing at the front again, smiling brightly at everyone, "A few more words after that wonderful banquet. Some start of the term notices must be announced. Students should note that the forest on Hogwart's grounds is strictly forbidden, there shall be no magic in the corridors between classes, Quidditch try-outs will be held during the second week of classes and finally… the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

What a jerk. He's practically sending an invitation to the students saying, "Here, come explore here!"

I look over at Harry, he has a slightly interested look on his face while looking up at Dumbledore; I can't be certain whether it's interest regarding the third-floor corridor or the Quidditch try-outs. Then again… Harry has a knack for getting himself into trouble.

It's kind of my fault, I haven't really talked to him about Dumbledore yet. Or warned him about the old man, if I want to be more accurate. I just realize that he's more likely to come into contact with Dumbledore than I am. I don't want his thoughts so exposed and easy to read. We really need to start learning Occlumency.

"And now… Let's all sing the Hogwart's song!" announces Dumbledore.

Some of the other Slytherins sigh in annoyance and I smile as they project my own feelings about singing and Dumbledore. Finally the song finishes and the old man releases us, allowing the prefects to lead the first years to their Dormitories. The male Slytherin prefect, a boy named Terence Higgs, leads us down the Hogwart's hallways towards the dungeons.

Well I'm about to get my first look at the Slytherin common room. Hopefully it's not as gloomy and cold as the books said it was.

So Heather made her first Slytherin friend in Theo Nott. He wasn't mentioned very much in canon but I like my version of him. Did you enjoy Heather cracking and threatening Draco? He deserved it for attacking her mother like that. I mean come on, Lily's dead... seriously? Any opinions on Theo and Heather's conversation regarding muggle-borns?

So the next chapter will have another POV in it... I know someone requested Harry's and I'm obliging their wish! It's about time we get a closer glimpse of this Harry's thoughts.

*Chapter 17*: Reflection and Settling In


Author's Note:

Here's a very long chapter! Includes two different POV's other than Heather!

Next Update: Chapter 17 - Wednesday 10/5/16.



Heather POV

September 1, 1991

The entrance to the Slytherin common room rests behind a stone wall in the back of the dungeons. An elaborate carving of a giant snake moves freely around the door, when Terence steps up to it, the snake poses as if it's going to strike him. Its stone tongue slithers out, "Password?"

I wonder…

Terence replies, "Basilisk."

As our group steps through the stone door's entranceway, which has slid open, I notice that the common room is adorned with dim green lights, black and green buttoned leather sofas, dark cabinets and tapestries of famous Slytherins.

At the same time I turn to ask Theo, "Did our door just hiss at the Prefect?"

Theo nods, "The stone snake is charmed to behave like a real one. It's so old that most people believe Salazar himself enchanted it."

So I was right… everyone else heard the snake hiss while I heard it request the password. I'll have to make sure not to slip into Parseltongue in front of other people when I speak to it.

"Listen up first years! The ladies are down the corridor to your right and the boys are to the left. Your trunks have already been placed in front of your beds."

The first years begin making their way towards the bedrooms when Terence suddenly calls out, "Oh I almost forgot… all first years are required to meet in the common room at 8 o'clock on Monday evenings. We are going to have a short review class regarding wizarding manners and traditions until winter break. Now you are dismissed!"

The majority of the first years groan at the announcement but don't seem surprised. As I follow the other female first years towards the rooms I hear Pansy complain, "I thought they would have gotten rid of the extra class for first years by now!"

Millicent responds, "Well it is a Tradition."

The five of us reach a dark wooden door with the names: Millicent, Pansy, Heather, Daphne and Tracey carved into it with intricate handwriting.

"Here we are girls." Daphne says in a pristine manner.

Her tone of voice is really similar to Emerald's.

I spot my black wooden trunk in front of the bed furthest from the door on the left side. It rests near a window that is clearly positioned underneath the lake. I step towards it and flop down on the bed with a sigh. My eyes closing when I feel how soft it is; the other girls laugh at my antics. I open one eye and turn to look at the girl with the bed to my right, it's Daphne, and she is elegantly sitting on the edge of her bed.

A nasally voice on the other side of the room, nearest the door, declares "I think we should all introduce ourselves properly."

Tracey, who is a very quiet girl, responds, "Yes we should."

I sit up on my bed and chuck my shoes onto the ground before sitting in a criss-cross position. "Okay you go first then." I nod towards Pansy.

She smiles, "I'm Pansy Parkinson, pure-blood, and I enjoy shopping and flirting with cute boys."

Are you kidding me? You're eleven, what do you know about flirting?
"I'm Millicent Bulstrode, half-blood, and I love Quidditch and pastries."

"I'm Tracey Davis, half-blood, and I like reading and Charms."

She seems like she would be a good person to study with.

"I'm Daphne Greengrass, pure-blood, and I love my little sister Astoria and dancing."

"I'm Heather Potter, half-blood, and…I want to change the world."

All of the girls look at me as if I've grown a second head, so I laugh as if it were a joke, and soon they are giggling alongside me. We stay up for a couple more hours discussing simple things like makeup, clothes, classes and boys, before Daphne declares that we should get some sleep in order to preserve our "beauty". The girly conversation didn't interest me but the simple things that slipped about their lifestyles did. Their families, especially Pansy's and Daphne's were very strict regarding the upbringing of their daughters; I was greatly reminded of the sections in my history textbooks that spoke of the properness and finesse that was expected of woman in the 1800's. Pansy waves her wand and the lights in our room turn off. I settle down into my bed, wearing my brand new and super comfortable pajamas. My Acacia wand is still hidden in its wrist holster and the Vinewood one is under my pillow. Neither have been far from my reach since I purchased them, but the Acacia has only been parted from my body when I shower. Tomorrow I'm going to remedy that with a water resistance charm to the holster. I close my eyes and begin to drift off to sleep. I wonder how Harry is doing in Gryffindor…

Harry POV

I'm in Gryffindor tower, laying on my brand new four-post bed, surrounded by the grandeur of Hogwarts and magic, and all I can think about is Heather.

I'm staring at the ceiling as emotions, thoughts and memories swirl around in my head. Once again I'm back in the Great Hall sitting at the Gryffindor table with strangers patting my back, ruffling my hair and congratulating me. When the noise dies down I hear my sister's name announced.

"Potter, Heather."

The Great Hall is in clamors again as her name circulates amongst the other students, the older Gryffindors ask me, "Is it true? Is that your sister?"

I nod my head, my eyes never leaving Heather, as she finally steps out of her position amongst the remaining first years and places the hat on her head. She sits on the stool for nearly two minutes before a frown appears on her face. Why am I so nervous? She has always wanted to be in Gryffindor like our parents, too. The Sorting hat just acknowledged my desire to not be placed in Slytherin.


My stomach drops and I watch as my sister's facial expression changes into one of anger and shock. She doesn't happy at all, I guess she really did want to be a Gryffindor with me. What are we going to do? She's always told me that Slytherin and Gryffindor have the greatest house rivalry.

Before I realize it, I'm standing at the table with everyone's eyes turned towards me, but I'm only looking at Heather. I begin clapping and soon Ron, Neville and Hermione are clapping along with me. I watch Heather move towards the Slytherin table, away from me, as the entire Hall claps. I notice that the very pale, blond and rude boy – Malfoy, I think - is staring at Heather intensely as she moves towards their table. She doesn't notice, oblivious as usual, to her surroundings. Everyone sits back down and the Sorting continues without any further fuses, and finally the feast begins. I'm surrounded by many of my favorite foods and a ton that I've never seen before, as I put a little of everything on my plate I'm caught up in a conversation with my three companions.

"I can't believe your sister was placed in Slytherin!" Hermione says.

"There isn't a witch or wizard that went bad, that wasn't in Slytherin." Ron says a little gloomily, as if he's implying that my sister will become evil.

"Heather isn't like that! She's brave, loyal and kind!"

"She wouldn't have been placed in Slytherin if those were her only traits, Harry." Hermione says softly.

I shake my head adamantly, refusing to acknowledge the truth that's staring me straight in the face as I watch Heather laughing loudly with a Slytherin boy. Her bright purple eyes spot me staring from across the Hall; she smiles serenely and mouths "Have fun!"

Doesn't she feel even a little lost without me by her side? How can she be so chummy with that Slytherin boy? Doesn't she remember the evil Slytherin wizard who killed our parents?

The memory fades away, and all that remains is the confusion and slight betrayal I felt upon seeing Heather with the Slytherin boy.

She's never wanted friends before… why now? Why was she so friendly with the Gryffindors on the train and then that Slytherin boy at dinner? She's always been so closed off towards anyone that's not me, even Remus…

For as long as I can remember, Heather has been by my side, taking care of me, playing with me, teaching me. She has always seemed so mature and strong, especially when she was protecting me from the worst of the Dursley's abuse. In our earliest years she would take the blame or give me the majority of her food, yet my fondest memory is of her bringing home a tent which actually turned out to be a small apartment. The apartment allowed the two of us to have our own home, we were able to cook, clean and have belongings that the Dursley's couldn't take from us.

Yet after she brought home the apartment, she would spend large amounts of time holed up in her potion's laboratory, mixing, slicing and brewing magical recipes. That meant that I had to step up and take care of her; she was so obsessive with what she was working on that she would forget to eat or do her homework. In order to prevent her from starving and flunking school, I would interrupt her work and force her to take breaks. It wasn't that she ignored me or didn't spend time with me – we still practiced Yoga and Taekwondo together – but she would zone out at weird times, lost in thoughts that I wasn't privy too.

She's always had an uncanny ability to surprise me, while we were growing up it would show itself in her wild and rather strange ideas, like catching a wild snake, or giving an owl a letter to deliver. At the time, I was too young to recognize her strange ideas for what they were, an insight into the Wizarding world; Now, I realize that she knew about or remembered the wizarding world long before I did. Thankfully, she was smart enough to use her insights to better our lives as we lived with the Dursleys. If she hadn't remembered the Wizarding world, or had her insights, neither of us would have known that we were special, a witch and wizard destined to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I might have grown up believing the insults that the Dursleys would always throw at us – freak, weirdo, strange, abnormal, brat. Yet every time that I displayed a case of accidental magic: making the silverware float across the apartment or glass vials explode, she would always calm me down and explain that it was normal. That I was normal, but special, a wizard. It was at those times that she would reach into her magic necklace and pull out moving photos of our parents, their friends and our infantile selves. From the pictures I learned that Heather and I are each miniature versions of our parents, with the only odd trait being Heather's eye color. While we poured over the photos she would tell me stories about our mother and father, Lily and James, and their friends. Her stories sparked my imagination and helped me to feel a connection to people that I had never met; she showed me how much they loved us and would have wanted to raise us ourselves if they could. My favorite story had to be the one where I was flying a broomstick as a one year old and used accidental magic to rise the broom higher than the safety charm would allow. James and Sirius chased me around a small field, trying to get me closer to the ground yet ecstatic that I was showing such flying potential.

When I was eight years old, Heather finally told me how they died; she contradicted what the Dursleys had told us about a car crash, instead she spun an elaborate story of an orphan boy who grew into a terribly twisted and powerful dark wizard. The wizard was so unstable that he decided to kill our entire family; Our parents fought against him and the last straw was when he heard that a child born in July would be able to kill him. For some reason she never mentioned that I killed this dark wizard as a baby, but she allowed me to learn it from another student on the train ride to Hogwarts. If it weren't for her acknowledgement that he spoke the truth, I wouldn't have believed it. Heather has always warned me to not take things at face value, there are always hidden motives and beliefs that drive the actions of people. Then again, Heather has always been paranoid, I've often wondered if she remembers more about that Halloween night than she lets on. Every time that I bring it up though, she calmly tells me that she doesn't remember anything; I, on the other hand, vividly remember a flash of green light and a scream, so it's hard to believe that she doesn't remember anything. Either way, I trust Heather, she is the only person in this world, other than Remus, that I trust with my life. She is my twin after all.

The first time I remember meeting Remus was when I was three years old. Heather had sent Fawn away for several weeks, saying that he would carry a letter to a man in our family pictures. When I finally met him he looked far worse than he did in the pictures, he had more scars on his face and arms and his face was haggard. He looked underfed and sad, very sad. Heather and I have grown up with Remus in our lives, he's the only father that I've ever known and I feel a deep respect and admiration for the man. Even though we've never lived with him, he has always been there for us when we needed him. He taught me to brew my first potions and how to properly hold a wand; he gave me piggyback rides, built sandcastles with me and told us old stories about Lily and James. He's been the biggest constant in my life other than Heather.

I should write to Remus about Heather's sorting and see what he thinks about it. I should also ask him about that man, Professor Snape, who caused my scar to ache.

I find my thoughts once again turning towards the feast. I had been scanning the Head table when my eyes rested on Professor Quirrell, the one that Hagrid had introduced Heather and me to in the Leaky Cauldron. I remember thinking, I wonder why Heather didn't like him?

When she had spotted the man standing at the corner of the bar, a look of disgust had crossed her features, and she carried herself in an aloof manner when Hagrid and I spoke to him. I don't think she realizes just how obvious her behavior is to me. How easy it is to read the emotions of the person that has been at my side for years. She's so kind and talkative around people that she likes yet cold and aloof around those that she deems unworthy. Her emotions are passionate and easy to read, at least to me, but I know her like the back of my hand. Then again she has always been better than me at hiding her emotions, even though with all of our practice, I am fairly accomplished at it as well. I used to think that she wanted us to hide our true emotions from the Dursleys so that we wouldn't be as open to abuse. It made it easier to act and escape their wrath or hide the pain that resulted from their beatings. Now that I'm older I can further appreciate her talent for knowing exactly what skills we could develop in order to excel and fit in at Hogwarts. I ponder her reaction to Professor Quirrell and what it might mean for me. There must be something wrong with him, something bad, otherwise Heather never would've reacted that way. She's always had a talent for knowing what somebody's true personality is like.

A memory from when I was nine years old surfaces.

"Hey, Potter!" Frank Smeed called to me from across the Taekwondo room, "Want to spar?"

I smiled, he was one of the best guys in the class apart from me, "Sure!"

We sparred, laughing when we managed to land a hit and groaning when the other did; by the end of the match we were both out of breath and panting, it was the best fight that either of us had ever participated in. After that match we became inseparable, we would eat lunch together, go to the park, train for Taekwondo and joke around as only young boys know how. I was certain that someone who was as talented in Taekwondo as Frank would understand its true value and purpose.

After a couple weeks of our obviously growing friendship, Heather said during dinner one night, "Harry, you know that boy, Frank Smeed?"

"Of course, Frank's awesome!"

"You shouldn't be his friend. He's not very nice… and he's going to end up using and hurting you."

"What are you talking about!?" I exclaimed in outrage.

"I'm saying you should stop hanging out with him."

"I don't need you telling me who I can and cannot be friends with! You're just jealous that I have friends and you don't!"


"No! I don't want to hear it! I'm not speaking to you until you apologize!"

Heather and I didn't talk for an entire month, we trained for Taekwondo and Yoga separately, ate in our rooms and ignored each other's presence.

We continued in that manner until finally, Frank proved that Heather was right about him. I went searching for him at the end of lunch one day, he had been in the 'bathroom' for a very long time, and I was worried. I found him in the boy's bathroom with a nasty boy named Travis Miller and a small nerdy boy named Edgar Pont. Frank and Travis had Edgar bent over a toilet and were forcing his head into it giving him, a bullying tradition, a swirly.

"Stop!" I demanded.

Travis and Frank turned towards me and Frank's face lit up, "Harry! Come join us! We're just putting this nerd in his proper place."

I shook my head in disgust, "I'm not helping you hurt some kid that I don't even know."

"He's a weak nobody, not even strong enough to fight us off. He doesn't matter, come on! It'll be fun!"

"No." I said firmly.

"If you don't help us, you're as weak and pathetic as he is." Travis chimed in, once again flushing the toilet with Edgar's head in it.

"If you don't stop, I'll make you."

"Ohhhh, think you're tough enough to take on the two of us?" Frank was grinning, the same one he got on his face when we sparred during class.

They released Frank and started towards me, I managed to dodge their first few lunges, but Travis eventually got ahold of one of my arms and soon the other. Edgar was sitting in the stall, crying. The two boys used their body weights to push me to the floor with my hands held tight behind my back by Trevor. He sat on me while Frank proceeded to kick me in the sides. After a couple of kicks and punches Travis let me up and both of the boys left the bathroom, laughing. Edgar and I were left alone in the bathroom, I was curled up on the floor in pain and Edgar was still crying. The whole time all I could think about was that Heather was right about Frank.

The memory fades away and I sigh loudly on my bed, I look over at the wizarding clock that rests on the nightstand beside my bed. It reads 1 o'clock in the morning.

I really need to get to sleep. I can talk to Heather tomorrow.

Letter: Harry to Remus

September 2, 1991


I was sorted into Gryffindor like I wanted! Now I'll be living in the same tower that you and my father stayed in. I plan on exploring every inch of Hogwarts in order to uncover the mysteries that you and the other Marauders weren't able to.

Today was my first day of classes; I attended Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, DADA with Professor Quirrell, Herbology with Professor Sprout and History of Magic with Professor Binns. You were right about all of them! Professor McGonagall is strict but an amazing witch, she transfigured her desk into a pig and back! Professor Binns is so boring, how will I survive seven years of his classes? Why hasn't he retired? He's a ghost for heaven's sake! Professor Sprout is friendly and she knows her stuff when it comes to plants; we only touched on the very basics today, but I recognized a few dangerous plants in the greenhouse, like Devil's Snare. Professor Quirrell… seems nice enough, but all of the older students were saying that he doesn't know how to teach. They were right, he's hard to understand with all the stuttering. I know that's a bit rude but it is true! There's something else about him that's weird too. I don't think that I mentioned this to you yet, but Heather and I met him in the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid. Heather was very rude in her obvious dislike of the man. I've never seen her act that way, especially towards an authority figure. I should have mentioned it before, but it slipped my mind until I saw him again during the feast. Anyways, we both know her opinions on certain things are usually right, so I'll try avoiding Professor Quirrell whenever I can.

Speaking of Heather… she was sorted into Slytherin! Can you believe it? I thought you said all of the Potters have been in Gryffindor? We were so surprised when the hat declared, "Slytherin". The whole hall went deathly silent until I stood up and began clapping for her. What are we going to do? I had planned on spending my time at Hogwarts together with my sister, and now we are separated into houses that absolutely loath one another! And her housemates… don't even get me started. This boy, Draco Malfoy, walks around like he owns the place and he was saying super nasty things to Heather on the Hogwart's train. I bet he's still being rude to her, even though she's in his house! He really gets on my nerves, can't I just send a nice hex his way? I promise I won't get caught!

What's even weirder is that Heather seems to be getting along with the Slytherins! After the sorting she was laughing with some boy, Theo Nott, I think his name is. And she's been hanging around him and the first year girls during all of their meals. I couldn't even speak to her today!

She's not the only one who has been making friends though, I've made some of my own. I really like my roommates – there's Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. They all like to goof off, I've already had to warn them that they should start their Transfiguration assignment. They just laughed me off. I bet they won't be laughing when all the other classes start piling on the homework too. There's also a girl, Hermione, who Heather seemed to get along with on the train. She's muggle-born and very dedicated to her studies. We spent an hour in the library together this afternoon working on Transfiguration. She's a bit of a know-it-all and a stickler for the rules (which I hate) but she'll be a good study partner.

Oh, I almost forgot! Do you know anything about Professor Snape? When I saw him during the feast, he glared at me and my scar began to burn? That's never happened before. I haven't mentioned it to Heather but I plan on telling her when I see her next.

I miss you! Hope you have been doing well!



Bonus Short Scene: Severus' POV

My robes flutter behind me as I stalk my way through the corridors, only pausing to yell at the students who are still out of their common rooms. There is five minutes left until curfew but I make sure that my warning and glare is strong enough to send them scampering towards their Houses. When I reach the Headmaster's Gargoyle I bark out the password, "Chocoballs."

The gargoyle steps aside with a stony frown to my demand, revealing the spiral staircase that leads to the Headmaster's office. I step onto the staircase and it slowly begins carrying me upwards.

When I reach Dumbledore's office I note that he still hasn't arrived; this only causes me further irritation, he has kept too big of a secret from me this time! I don't know why he never mentioned her to me, why I was only informed about the boy.

The arrogant little boy looks just like James, but she… she looks just like Lily. My sweet Lily.

I'm too upset to sit in the comfy chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk, so I pace angrily back and forth across the room. The previous Headmasters and Headmistresses look down on me anxiously from their portraits. One of them calls out to me, "Severus, calm down. He's on his way here now."

I barely pause to look up at the portrait containing the last Headmaster, the one that ruled the school when I was a student, Headmaster Dippet. His stern face, made even stricter due to his short beard and long grey hair is full of worry and… pity.

"Quiet." I snap at him.

I don't need their pity or worry. I need this whack-job old fool to explain his lies to me. I've done everything, every single thing that he's asked of me. Yet he kept this, this important fact from me so easily, so readily.

Finally the entrance to the office opens once again, and a tall wizard with a long grey beard and annoying twinkling eyes steps into the room. He pauses when he sees me and pauses in his 'surprise', but I know he expected me to be here, it's why he took so long to return to his office. Manipulative man.

He must have purposefully not told me about the girl, but why, I have only the slightest of ideas.

"Severus!" he greets me, "What an unexpected surprise!"

"Why didn't you tell me!?" I hiss out in frustration, tired of his cheerful antics.

"About what, my boy?"

"THAT girl, Heather Potter." I spit her name out angrily.

"Ahh… her. I see, were you surprised?"

"Why did you never mention her? Why go on and on about the boy, but mention nothing about the girl?"

"She's not like her brother. She bears no scar from that night, and therefore won't be as valuable as the boy to Voldemort."

And to you…

"So you just wrote her off? Decided not to tell the world that another Potter lives?"

"I knew that it would be revealed when she came to Hogwarts. Why give a little girl undue stress by making her famous?"

"Yet you had no problem doing the same to her brother!" I growl out.

"We had to tell the people who exactly vanquished Lord Voldemort."

"We both know that he's probably out there somewhere! He'll come looking for the both of them."

"I highly doubt that. It's likely that he never even saw the girl, otherwise she would be dead as well."

"You don't know that!"

"I need you to focus on the boy. Protect him. Forget the girl for now. I always have a plan."

"It's your planning that worries me."

"Severus. Do not let her looks distract you from your task. You made a promise to me. I won't say anything further about the matter."

How I wish I could wipe that knowing look from his face. Look where my promise to him has gotten me. Lily is dead and I'm saddled with babysitting a boy that's probably just like James.

I recognize my dismissal, so I glare at him one last time and leave his office. As I walk towards the potion's classroom and my quarters, I barely notice the few students still roaming the halls. In a very un-Severus state I ignore them and enter my quarters in a daze.

That girl, Heather, looks like a miniature version of Lily. And she ended up in Slytherin! Slytherin of all places! The entire Potter family has always been in Gryffindor. I wonder if she's similar to Lily in ways other than her looks? Is she smart? Does she have a talent for potions? How in the world did a Potter end up in Slytherin? She must be different from Lily. My Lilly was a Gryffindor through and through. But oh, how I wish she would've been a Slytherin. Everything would've been different…

What did you think of Harry's POV? He pointed out a few of Heather's flaws that we hadn't noticed in her POV and saw a tiny portion of their childhood from his POV... He doesn't seem to think that Heather's a seer or that she's TOO unusual yet. He's accepted that she knows things that he doesn't and wants whats best for them. What do you think of him regarding Remus as his father figure? He's also seen pictures of Sirius and Peter, how will that change things in the future?

What about Severus' POV? It was a little harder to write in his POV but I tried my best. Dumbledore is a manipulative ass. He didn't even tell Severus about Heather! :(

Please R&R on my longest chapter so far!

*Chapter 18*: The First Day


Author's Note:

New chapter as promised.

Next Update: Chapter 19 - Sunday 10/9/16

September 2, 1991

A giant marble table with equally large chairs stands before me. The setup is obviously meant for beings as large as the giants. I feel like a tiny ant beneath it, even more so in front of the blurry figures that occupy the seats. I squint my eyes trying to make out their features.

"Stop child!" booms a loud male voice that makes me want to scream and hold my hands to my ears.

I shiver, no mortal is supposed to hear that voice.

"Don't speak so loud, remember she's only a human," whispers a mothering voice.

The whisper doesn't affect me nearly as much as the booming male voice did, but I still get a twinge of fear spiraling down my body.

"Have you completed your task yet?" the booming male asks in a slightly softer tone of voice.

"What task?" I ask in confusion.

"She hasn't completed anything yet, it's only been a few years of her time," answers a new female voice, her tone is distinctively intellectual and informing.

"But we choose her, as the best one, to complete the task. You know that body wasn't easy to get ahold of – to place her in it," complains the booming voice.

"Give her a few more years," insists the motherly voice, "Now let her return."

As the scene becomes even more blurry and the table fades away a fourth voice speaks, it sounds both calculating and cold, "Goodbye, my child."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Pansy's alarm clock wakes all of us up in the morning, when I read the time – 8 o'clock, I groan loudly, "It's too early!"

"What are you talking about? Classes start at 9:45. We still need to get out of bed, shower, change our clothes, do our hair and makeup and then eat! We'll be lucky if we get there on time!" Daphne exclaims.

A swarm of butterflies fills my stomach as anticipation courses through my body.

Today is the first day of classes! The first day I will get to use real magic!

Daphne turns out to be right, by the time the clock strikes 9 o'clock, the five of us have barely finished getting ready. We leave for the Great Hall together and I feel a sense of relief that my roommates and I are getting along so far. I can only hope that this air of comradery and friendliness will last. As the five of us enter the Great Hall, I find myself looking for Harry at the Gryffindor table. Annoyingly, I don't see him anywhere, nor do I see Ron, Dean, Seamus or Neville.

They probably slept in and will be late to their first class. I can't believe this Harry would be so stupid and not set his alarm! What kept him from remembering to set it?

As we approach the Slytherin table I notice that all of the first year boys are already there and eating.

Seriously… even Crabbe and Goyle managed to wake up on time?

When Theo spots me, he smiles and indicates that I should sit next to him.

I take the spot, "Good morning!" I say pleasantly.

"Morning, Heather." He responds.

"What classes are we taking today?" I'm actually curious because I haven't taken the time to check our schedule yet.

"Well since its Tuesday we have five classes: Transfiguration, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology and Astronomy."

I groan as I place scrambled eggs onto my plate, "It's going to be a long day…"

Oh no, if we have DADA… then I'll have to see the Quirrell-Voldemort twosome. I wonder why the thought of two men stuck together, by some kind of cruel unicorn-draining dark magic, doesn't make my heart sing?

"Yes, but at least we only have classes with our fellow Slytherins today."


With only ten first year students in each house it's kind of surprising that we don't share all of our classes.

"Yeah, we only share one class each week with the first years from different houses, it's the Headmaster's way of enforcing 'inter-house unity'."

I nearly choke on my eggs, "Seriously, he thinks that will work?"

Theo shrugs his shoulders, "I have no idea what the loon thinks."

He probably makes us share classes in order to push the houses further apart, especially when some of the teachers show such blatant favoritism – like Snape. It's Dumbledore's way of promoting his "Anti-Slytherin" campaign without making it obvious.

I laugh and the rest of breakfast is spent discussing lighter subjects, like what we will be learning in class that day and who actually managed to wake all the boys up this morning – Theo.

"I had to pull all the sheets off of Draco and drag him from his bed onto the floor before he realized I wasn't going to give up." Theo says as we make our way out of the hall and towards our first class, Transfiguration.

I start cracking up, the visual of a disheveled and annoyed Draco sprawled across the floor in his pajamas is super amusing, "Next time just dump a bit of water on his head. You'll need to mix it up so he doesn't expect the same thing!"

Theo chuckles in amusement, "He'd probably hex me into oblivion if I did that, and I'd ruin his 'perfect' hair."

"Just make sure to move his wand where he can't reach it." I advise soundly.

After all, none of the first years are as paranoid as I am. They wouldn't be carrying around two wands.

We finally reach the Transfiguration classroom, and sitting on the teacher's desk is a tabby cat, watching as all of the students make their way into the room.

"Let's sit over here." Theo says gesturing towards the middle of the desks on the left side of the classroom.

As we sit down, I notice that Professor McGonagall's classroom is impeccably well kept, her desk is uncluttered and there isn't a trace of dust. The room feels open and airy, which might be due to the high placed yet open windows and lack of anything personal. The room is very bare, the stone walls don't have any decorations adorning them. There's just the student's desks, the teacher's desk, a bird's cage – which is empty, two chalkboards and a couple of book shelves. The room reminds me of Professor McGonagall, impeccable, precise and to the point.

"I wonder where Professor McGonagall is? She seems like the type of teacher that would show up before her students."

"Shush.." I tell him, nodding towards the cat.

He glances between me and the cat, a puzzled look appearing on his face, but he begins unpacking all of the materials required for the class – his wand, textbook, notebook and writing quill. All of which are arranged neatly before him while I continue watching the tabby. If you stare it for a significant length of time, it becomes rather obvious that the cat isn't a normal tabby. When all of the seats in the classroom are full and the clock strikes 9:45, the cat leaps off the desk and Professor McGonagall greets us, "Welcome to Transfiguration. It is a very dangerous and complex magic, as it can be combined with many other magical disciplines. Anyone who messes around in my class will be asked to leave and not return – you have been warned."

She flourishes her wand and her desk turns into an oinking pig, with a similar flick the pig is restored to a desk. Each of the transfigurations were completed quickly and precisely.

Wow what a way to impress your class. First, unexpectedly transform from an animal into a person in front of them, then do the same to a piece of furniture. This will give an accurate demonstration of a few of the uses of Transfiguration.

I look around the room at all of my classmate's faces. Each and every one of them are wearing an expression of either interest, curiosity or awe – sometimes a mix of the three.

Not to mention, you get your entire class eager to learn.

For the first 45 minutes of class she lectures on the many different ways that Transfiguration can be used, some of the main rules to remember, and the proper technique when transfiguring a matchstick into a needle.

"Now let's practice the spell and technique for the last 15 minutes. Shall we?"

She flicks her wand and a matchstick is distributed to each desk.


I pull my Vinewood wand out of my robe pocket and pull up my sleeves. I quickly glance over my notes on the proper wand form and wording, then I flick my wand and mutter the spell.

Nothing happened?

I try recasting the spell, and lean forward to check the matchstick again.

Still nothing! What am I doing wrong?

I look over at Theo's match, his has a slightly silver color but overall you can tell that it's still a match.

I frown in frustration and turn back to my match. I close my eyes in concentration, imagining the same movements and tone that Professor McGonagall used when she performed the example. I open my eyes, flick my wand and say the spell.


"I did it!" An arrogant voice proclaims across the room. Professor McGonagall walks over to Draco, "Well done, Malfoy. You can still improve but it's definitely a needle. Five points to Slytherin."

Stupid Draco.

Professor McGonagall flourishes her wand and all of the matches, and Draco's needle, are collected, "Your assignment is to practice this transfiguration outside of class, and write a two foot paper on the necessary wand technique and spell pronunciation for it. It will be due first thing on Monday. Class dismissed."

During the next class, History of Magic, there aren't any practical applications of magic, instead we listen to Professor Binns mumble on and on about the Hogwart's founders.

I've already read all of this in Hogwarts, A History.

More than once Theo has to nudge me awake throughout the class, and when we are finally released I make a quick dash for freedom.

"How boring!" I exclaim once we are further down the corridor.

"All of the students say he should resign yet Dumbledore isn't pressing the matter. I don't understand how we're supposed to like the subject, when the teacher's such a bore." Theo informs me briskly.

"Don't ask me! I was falling asleep!"

"Hopefully our next class, DADA, will be more entertaining," Theo says hopefully, "It's supposed to have a lot of practical magic."

"I wouldn't hold your breath." I mutter to him darkly.

He eyes me curiously but doesn't say anything as we've reached the classroom's door. He holds the door open for me and I smile at him.

I really like that about the Slytherins, at the very least most are well versed in simple manners. Even Goyle holds the door open for me when I follow him into the common room.

In Defense against the Dark Arts, Theo and I decide to sit in the middle of the classroom and surprisingly Tracey sits on my other side.

"Hello Tracey." I say politely as Theo nods to her.

"Hello, Heather," she says with a small smile, but she quickly pulls out all of her materials and faces the front of the classroom – in learning mode.

Professor Quirrell-Voldemort walks into the classroom, the air of calm assuredness that I had detected at the Leaky Cauldron is completely gone. In front of the class stands a nervous and cowardly man. Those are some amazing acting skills, wow.

I hear Theo let out a soft groan when Quirrell begins speaking; his stutter is even worse than the first time that he spoke to Hagrid and Harry.

He is obviously trying to add to his cowardly demeanor. Putting on a persona of a Professor that can barely stand at the front of a classroom. I wonder if Voldemort expects someone to report Dumbledore for hiring awful teachers…

I sigh loudly, this is going to be a rough year for DADA.

No wonder it was such a big deal in the original series when the school got a decent Professor in Remus. With these crappy Professors – Quirrell and Binns, how are the students supposed to excel and truly learn? Why does Dumbledore allow them to teach? Can't Quirrell be fired on the basis that he's too frightened to teach class and nobody learns? Then again, Dumbledore probably wants to keep an "eye" on him, even if the student's learning suffers for it. He can't have anyone becoming as powerful as himself or Voldemort anyways. Stupid Voldemort and his dumb curse on the DADA position. I wonder how he managed to do that anyway?

The hour drags on as 'Professor Quirrell' lectures on the basics of the Dark Arts and why we should be on the defense around them. He even manages to make the more interesting facts, absolutely dull.

That's probably his plan in the first place. Make sure that nobody pays attention during class and therefore have a bunch of students who can't defend against the Dark Arts. I wonder what class would've been like if Voldemort, in his own body, actually got the position here…

Luckily, Professor Quirrell-Voldemort treats me the same as the other students, that is, hardly paying us any attention at all. As the Slytherins leave the classroom I study them closely, everyone is disappointed that a classically favorite class is going to be a joke this year.

Our next class, Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout is livelier. Her personality vibrant and passionate, which makes her class a joy to be in because she sounds excited and happy. Herbology is her passion and the plants, even the dangerous ones, are her children. During her class we learn how to identify some of the basic plants that are used in first year potions, and she lectures us on how to properly care for and grow the plants. I'm pleased to see that many of the plants that we don't learn about today are still easy for me to recognize. She also assigns us a homework assignment – a two foots paper on how to care for and properly manage one of the plants that we learned about during class.

As we leave the greenhouse, Theo and I head towards the library to get a head start on our assignments. When I looks over at the boy I notice that he has a small frown on his face.

Maybe he didn't enjoy the class as much as I did?

"Theo, what did you think of Herbology?"

"Why do we need to learn about plants? They're plants! If you need plants for a potion you can buy them or hire someone to grow them for you!"

I say teasingly, "What would you do in a situation where you're stuck in the middle of the forest, being chased by dark wizards, and can't access your Gardener or the store?"

"Heather you're weird. When would something like that ever happen?"

I just laugh in amusement, "Well what if you can't afford a Gardener?"

"The Nott's are a very old wizarding family – One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight – we'll always have the money to hire someone."

I sigh, sometimes my young friend is very much an arrogant pure-blooded Slytherin and very very naive.

Letter from Draco to Lucius

September 3, 1991


The Potter Twins are definitely not dark Wizards. The boy, Harry, was sorted into Gryffindor and has quickly made friends amongst the Blood Traitors and Mud-bloods. I've asked around, people say that he isn't particularly smart or talented, but he doesn't struggle in his classes. He seems to have a high level of raw magical power, but I've only sensed light magic, nothing dark coming off of him. I don't think that he is or was capable of defeating he-who-must-not-be-named. It was probably a stroke of luck or due to Dumbledore's meddling. As for the girl, Heather, at first I was more interested in her because she was sorted into Slytherin. I had hoped that her association with Slytherin was a sign – that she has great power. Unfortunately her power is far worse than her brother's! She's almost a squib and therefore utterly useless! Did I mention that I hate her? Even though she's pathetically weak, she dared to threaten me during the feast. She insisted that I not call anyone a "Mud-blood" in front of her. I can't believe that Theo is putting up with the girl – he even told me that they're "friends". Doesn't he realize that associating with trash will make his family look bad?



P.S. Can you please tell mother to send me some more sweets?

Doesn't Draco calling Heather, "Trash" make your heart flutter? How cute. *Heavy Sarcasm there* We got a tiny glimpse of his feelings though in his letter to his father. I wonder what Lucius will make of the situation? Luckily Quirrell-Voldemort didn't retaliate against Heather for her rude comments in the Leaky Cauldron. Maybe he has something worse planned for her? What did you think about Heather's dream at the start of the chapter?

*Chapter 19*: Potions with the Gryffindors


Author's Note:

Here is Chapter 19! I'm more than halfway done with this story - it will be 31 chapters long.



September 4, 1991

Mr. Nott,

It has recently come to my attention that the Potter children have indeed started Hogwarts this year. As you know Harry is considered the hero of the century, and a wizard of formidable strength – of light or dark – for being able to defeat the Dark Lord. I asked my son, Draco, to investigate further into the matter when he arrived at Hogwarts. He recently contacted me and said that the Potter children, for there is also a girl, do not show any signs of being a powerful dark wizard or witch. He was able to sneak in our family's Praecantatio fabrica – an heirloom that detects the amount of magical power that a child holds within their body. The boy, Harry, if he can be persuaded to our cause, will be a welcome addition. He holds a large amount of raw magical power in his body. Unfortunately, the girl doesn't have as much potential, even though she was sorted into Slytherin house. Draco mentioned that your son, Theo, is friends with the little chit. I know that we agree that wizards of our caliber shouldn't associate with weak witches or wizards, but I urge you to consider supporting your son's relationship with her. If the Dark Lord rises again, he may find some use for her, after all, powerful families can always use extra servants.

Your friend,

Lucius Malfoy

September 6, 1991

Today is Friday, the final day of our first week at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; I'm super excited because we have potions with the Gryffindors this morning. The first year Slytherins had a potion's class earlier this week with Professor Snape. During the lesson he proved to be very similar to the book's description of the man. He's crabby and bitter, and only tolerates the Slytherins because we are in his house. On the first day we weren't allowed to brew a potion during class, instead, we took notes on the potion that we are brewing today with the Gryffindors. This preparation and lecture may explain why the Slytherins were more adapt at Potions in the first novel. The Gryffindor's class was cancelled earlier this week so today will be their first Potion's class.

Honestly, I'm really relieved that the first time Harry meets Snape will be when I'm also in the classroom. During my first class, I caught the Professor staring at me a few times; I think he was trying to ascertain how similar I am to Lily. I have no idea whether I was a disappointment or not, because he never said a word to me nor did he allow us to make eye contact.

When I walk into the Potion's classroom, I see Harry sitting in a middle row between Hermione and Ron.

So the Golden Trio is getting along already… good.

I purposefully walk around the classroom until I'm standing in front of Harry's desk, "Hey," I say with a grin.

Harry looks up at me his face breaking into a big smile, "Heather!"

"I've missed you," I pout sliding him a note.

He casually takes it, "I've missed you too. Hagrid sent me a note this morning asking if I wanted to have tea. Do you want to come too?"

"Yes! And I'll get the chance to talk to you," I nod at the note, "So you won't really need to read that."

"Ms. Potter!" sneers a loud voice at the front of the room. I turn around slowly, until I make eye contact with Professor Snape, this causes him to frown even further. He probably expected me to not meet his eyes due to his harsh tone of voice. Admittedly, the childlike part of my brain really didn't want too, but my adult-side refuses to be cowed.

"I won't have you fraternizing in this classroom, especially when you could be reviewing for today's potion! Go sit down."

I turn back to Harry, giving him a small smile, before moving over to the Slytherin side of the classroom. The only spot left is between Theo and Draco, so I sink into the seat and pull out my notebook. I have to be prepared to jolt down any notes that Professor Snape happens to yell out. Professor Snape starts taking roll-call, when he pauses before Harry's name I know that he won't be able to resist taking a strike.

"Ahh – Harry Potter, our new Celebrity."

All of the Slytherins begin to snicker except for Theo and me, so I give him a grin and kick Draco in the shin. Draco glares at me angrily; we still aren't getting along because he's a little prat, but he hasn't called anybody a mud-blood in front of me either.

When Snape finishes roll-call he begins his famous spiel, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. There is to be no foolish wand-waving in this class. I don't expect many of you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death. That is… if you all aren't a bunch of idiots like I usually have to teach."

What a wonderful way to intimidate your students into listening and behaving. His method is completely different from Professor McGonagall's but they both achieve decent results. They have to have full control of their classes because they're the most dangerous.

When he finishes, I close my eyes, waiting for the onset of questions that are bound to occur. Sure enough, "Potter! What would I get if I add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

I can't resist, "A sleeping potion referred to as the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape glares at me, and I try to smile innocently but end up quirking an eyebrow at him with a tiny, very tiny, smirk.

He only said "Potter" and didn't clarify which one he meant.

Professor Snape seems to realize the mistake that he made, because he doesn't say anything to me, instead he barks out, "MR. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry blinks at the annoyance that is shining through in Snape's voice but answers, "You can find the stone in the stomach of a goat, sir."

Snape's eyes seem to lose a little bit of their passion, "And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same thing, sir."

Harry leans back in his chair, a little cockily, as he answers the trick question with a grin. I smile contentedly.

My Harry knows the answers to these basic questions because he likes to read and study. Just like me. What are you going to do Professor, with a boy who is obviously so much like James, but stays on top of his schoolwork like Lily?

Snape glares at Harry but says, "Well, why are you all not writing that down?"

After Professor Snape reviews the procedure for making the beginner's potion, the one designed to cure boils, he puts us into pairs and tell us to begin. Unfortunately I get paired with Draco instead of Theo, and the later just smiles at me in sympathy as he begins working with Crabbe.

"Well, let's get started." Draco says coldly.

I nod, "You better not be awful Draco. I want this potion to be perfect."

"Malfoy's aren't awful at anything, besides Professor Snape's my godfather and we're Slytherins. We won't be graded poorly."

"I actually want to earn the grade. If you don't, I'm forevermore going to consider you a lazy prat and a cheat."

Draco huffs in annoyance but begins helping me with the potion in earnest. To my delight, he is actually a very good Potion's partner when he puts his mind to it. Professor Snape even compliments us, he tells the class that our teamwork and nearly perfect technique has resulted in an excellent potion. His exaggerated compliment causes Hermione to glare at us because she wants to be the star in every class.

Draco and I finish our potion thirty minutes before class is over and sit side by side, not talking, and waiting for the rest of the class to finish. I think Snape hates to release students even one minute early – even if they've done well on their potion. As my eyes wander the classroom I notice that Neville and Seamus' potion has begun to spew green smoke and hiss. My eyes widen, I had completely forgotten about their disastrous partnership.

"Neville, Seamus, get away from that cauldron now!" I yell across the room.

Neville and Seamus look at me warily but scramble out of their chairs; they get away just in time for the cauldron to melt and send green muck sliding all over their seats and the floor.

"You idiots! I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Snape says condescendingly. He waves his wand and the green goo disappears from the classroom.

"You two are lucky that Ms. Potter over there is good at potions and noticed that yours was brewed incorrectly. Otherwise you would have been covered in blistering boils. Now, gather your stuff and leave my classroom."

Seamus and Neville quickly gather their stuff under the hawk-like eyes of Professor Snape. They escape as soon as everything is in their bags.

Snape turns towards me, "Five points to Slytherin for noticing that failure of a potion and saving their Gryffindor hides."

Draco and the rest of the Slytherin first years eye me with approval, and Theo pats me on the back with a grin. By the time we are released from Potions, I have managed to finish our first Charms assignment and happily pack it away with the rest of my stuff. I glance between Harry who is watching me intently, and the boy waiting patiently for me at the door.

"Hey, Theo, don't wait up for me. I need to talk to my brother. Save me a seat in DADA."

Theo nods and leaves the classroom hurriedly, I think he means to catch up with Draco and the rest of his gang.

I pick up my bag and head over to Harry's table, "Do you want to walk together?"

"Sure, I usually walk with Ron though."

The redheaded boy nods in agreement and I smile apologetically to him, "Ron, would you mind if I talk to Harry alone? I haven't seen him much all week."

"Uhh, okay." Ron says with a frown. He finishes packing up his stuff and leaves the classroom.

Harry and I follow slowly after him, "Did you read my note anyways?"

"Yeah, I did. You found a place for us to practice Taekwondo?"

I look around warily and pull out my vine wand, I mutter, "Muffliato."

I look at the wand suspiciously and sigh, "Umm, Harry would you mind pulling out your wand? Flick your wand like this and say 'Muffliato'."

I can't even cast a simple Muffliato charm because of that stupid magical sphere sucking away my magic. I hate this!

He follows my instructions to a tee and I feel a familiar buzzing sensation surround us. I nod in approval, "Excellent. You just cast your first Muffliato, which means we can talk without someone overhearing us. To answer your question – yes, I found a spot for us to practice. But Harry, I also want to start practicing our spell work and… dueling."

His expression has turned into one of excitement so I burst out, "Don't look at me like that! It's not just for fun! We never know when you'll be attacked."

Harry looks at me in resignation, he's grown used to my 'paranoia' over the years, and usually decides to go along with whatever crazy plan I have.

He sighs, "Where and when?"

"I know you will hate this but… 6 o'clock in the morning, before breakfast?"

He groans, "Heather! You know I hate waking up early!"

"Harry, we woke up at least that early for muggle primary school every weekday! And we need the time at night for our schoolwork."

"Okay, where do we meet?"

"I'll meet you on the 7th floor corridor. Make sure that nobody follows you, okay?"

He smiles, "Okay Heather, I'll see you there tomorrow morning then. Oh, and don't forget tea with Hagrid at 3:30 today!" He starts heading towards the Charm's classroom but I quickly grab his arm.

"You need to cancel the spell! Here, swish your wand like this."

He proceeds to do so, and the spell's sensation wears off. I grin and head towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Oh lovely, I'll get to waste yet another hour because Voldemort doesn't see fit to actually teach us.

September 4, 1991

Dear Harry,

I'm so pleased that you wrote to me! I was very curious about how your sortings went. Congratulations on making Gryffindor! You have joined the fine house of the brave, the strong and the loyal! You will make your house proud, because you are a worthy Gryffindor. I also know that both of your parents would be proud of you. I understand that you have some misgivings about Heather being sorted into Slytherin, no doubt the tales that I've told the two of you have added to those, but don't worry. If your sister seems to be making friends and getting along with her house than she will be fine. I have to admit that I was slightly worried that this would happen when she mentioned being in Gryffindor. You know her even better than I, and I have always suspected that she would end up in Slytherin. They are an equally worthy house and your sister will only add to their strength; if she can knock a bit of sense into some of those stuck up pure-bloods, than that's an added bonus. I know that the two of you wanted to be in the same house in order to stay close to one another, but you have to remember that Hogwarts is also a place to expand on your relationships and grow up. Unfortunately, the two of you may even accomplish more separately.

As for Heather's housemates and the boy, Draco, I would suggest that you not hex him and put Heather in a situation where she has to side with her house or her brother. It could really hurt her in the end.

I'm glad that you are enjoying your classes and that my old Professors haven't changed since I had them. I'll be able to help you with any of your assignments should you need it. Speaking of which, don't let your roommates convince you to slack off on yours! That Hermione girl sounds like her head is on straight, so I encourage you to spend more time with her. Of course, don't forget to take a little break from studying every once in a while, you need to enjoy everything that magic and Hogwarts have to offer. If you can discover a secret about Hogwarts that the Marauders didn't know about, I will be very impressed – I might even send you a gift.

As for Professor Snape, he is a special case because he went to school with the Marauders, and let's say that we weren't always on the same side. He may be holding a grudge from that time, but Dumbledore has assured me several times over the years that he is a good man. Don't take his severity to heart. With regards to Professor Quirrell, I'm surprised that Heather reacted so vehemently towards him, since being rude is something she is not prone to be. I would trust your instincts – and if they tell you to trust Heather's opinion than do so. However I don't think that Dumbledore would allow anyone dangerous to teach at the school. If you like though, I can look a little into his past, maybe find a reason for why Heather doesn't like him.

I miss you and here's a couple of sweets from Hogsmeade that I thought you would enjoy. Share with your roommates and don't hog them all!



Yay! Heather and Harry are planning on starting their extra magical training; I wonder where said training will take place... :) Lucius is actually encouraging Mr. Nott to let Theo and Heather remain friends, weird. And he plans to offer her on a silver platter to the Dark Lord when he rises again... uhh oh.

Important question - do you guys actually like the letter inserts from other characters?

*Chapter 20*: Tea with Hagrid


Author's Note:

I want to remind everyone that this is simply my first draft.

As I move closer to the end of this story I'm going to go back and further proofread/edit.

Thank you to everyone who continues to read my story!


Next Update: Sunday 10/16/16

Chapter 20: Tea with Hagrid

September 4, 1991


You have gathered very good information, even if the actual tidings bring me great displeasure. How was a mere child with no substantial talent or power able to bring about the downfall of the greatest Dark Wizard of all time? It doesn't surprise me that the boy was sorted into Gryffindor, all of the Potters have been. Therefore he would be tolerant of mud-bloods and blood traitors. What is more interesting is that the girl was sorted into Slytherin. She must be different from the rest of the Potter family in order for her to be designated as such. It is disappointing that her magical power is so weak, but I still want you to keep an eye on her. However do not become friends with the girl, it wouldn't do for a Malfoy to be friendly with someone who is practically a squib.

Your mother sends her regards and your favorite sweets.

Your Father,

Lucius Malfoy

September 6, 1991

I set my school bag down on a table in the library while asking the current occupants, "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Neville and Hermione look up from their respective homework assignments.

"Not at all," Hermione says.

"What are you guys working on?"

"Herbology," Neville replies at the same time Hermione says, "Astronomy."

I nod, "I've finished both of those but I still need to revise."

"Really!" Hermione exclaims, "I'm almost finished with this one. We could revise each other's if you like?"

"I'd like that… and while you finish that I'll practice the matchstick to needle spell."

I pull my vine wand from my robe, and my transfiguration notes and matchstick from my bag. Neville watches me curiously as I pull up my sleeves in order to see my wrist movement better. I flick my wand and murmur the spell, hoping that I'll get some kind of transfiguration this time. Alas the matchstick rests on the table looking exactly the same as before.

I sigh, "No matter what I do, it doesn't seem to change."

I try the spell a couple more times and finally on the fifth attempt, which causes my match to turn a silvery brown, Hermione interrupts, "That's so odd! I've been watching you attempt the spell and hoping to give you some tips. I mean I managed the spell on Wednesday so I should recognize what you are doing wrong. But you seem to be doing the wrist work and pronunciation correctly…"

I burst out, "That's what I thought! I knew I was doing it right! Why isn't this working?"

Even if I don't have very much magic available I should still be able to cast this small spell.

Hermione stretches her hand out, "Can I see the matchstick?"

"Uhh, sure." I hand over the slightly silver matchstick.

She places it on the table in front of her and pulls out her wand. She clears her throat, flicks her wand and says the spell.

A perfect silver and sharp needle lays before her and she beams, "There's nothing wrong with the match."

You wanted to show off a little didn't you? I could've told you that there's nothing wrong with the match. Why is this so hard for me? It's a simple first year transfiguration spell. I'm never going to be of any use to Harry this way…

"Can I see the match now, Hermione?" Neville says politely.

"Yes! Let me turn it back." She waves her wand and reverses the transfiguration.

I'm a little impressed with her display of magic because Professor McGonagall hasn't even covered the reverse transfiguration spell yet. In fact, she isn't supposed to touch on it until the fourth week.

She's probably read ahead as much as I have, but she actually has the magic to make the spells work for her.

Neville pulls out his wand and stares at the match with an intense look of concentration on his face. He flicks his wand while saying the spell, and like me, nothing happens. He tries a couple more times but stops on his fourth attempt.

"I'm with you Heather. This spell is frustrating!"

Hermione pitches in, "Neville try again but tilt your hand more like this…" she demonstrates the motion slowly.

Neville tries again and the match turns a bright silver color, but remains a match.

Maybe this would be a good time to offer the solution to his problem. He deserves to have a better school life than in canon.

"That was nearly perfect Neville! Can I ask you something?"

I even bet that his magical will drastically improve almost immediately. He'll be an even greater ally to Harry if he can gain some confidence and more power.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Did you get that wand from Ollivander's?"

He shakes his head, "This is my dad's old wand. My gran wanted me to have it for sentimental reasons."

Hermione frowns slightly, "Aren't all wizards and witches supposed to have a wand choose them?"

He shrugs, "My gran said that it wasn't necessary when there's a perfectly good wand at home."

I smile, "Neville, you should write your grandmother. Tell her that you love your father's wand and respect her wishes but you need a new one. I think that your father's wand and you aren't bonding properly, which would explain why you are having so much trouble with magic. It's also holding you back, not allowing you to reach your full potential. You can also mention how hard you've been trying, wanting to make both her and your parents proud of you. Yet the wand is fighting you and making that hard to do."

Hermione adds, "You can also tell your Grandmother about Ollivander's research. He has been trying to prove that most wands hold loyalty for their original owner, unless they are won by someone else."

"My Gran thinks that Ollivander is a kook."

I laugh, "She's probably right but you should still try Neville! The worst thing that can happen will be that she says no; but if she says yes than you may find yourself doing better in your classes and you'll have a new wand entirely loyal to you."

My eyes take on a distant expression as I think about my own wands, "Let me tell you… having a wand that feels like an extension of yourself and tingles when you use it… there's no better feeling."

At least, I bet that's how my own wands will feel if I can actually cast some magic with them.

He frowns, "If my problem can be solved by getting a new wand – what's your problem?"

Hermione and I glance at each other, and I sigh, "I think it's because I have a limited amount of magical power. My magic doesn't want to leave my body when I'm trying to do spell-work."

Hermione frowns, "I think I've read about that. They say that a smaller amount of magic is harder to access and makes it more reluctant to leave your body. The small amount that you have doesn't want to leave, because it won't be able to protect you if you're put in a position of danger. There are people still researching the subject – trying to prove that magic is what makes witches' and wizard's bodies more resilient."

Neville says darkly, "I can attest to that."

He's probably remembering when he was thrown off the tower.

I ask curiously, "Did you read anything about increasing magical power?"

"No. I only skimmed through the subject because I didn't find it particularly important at the time. I did read about an object though - one that can check how much magical power you actually have."

"Really? What's it called?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot… I was kind of distracted at the time." The faintest amount of pink rises to her cheeks.

I wonder what that's about…

"Don't worry about it, I'm perfectly capable of doing my own research – I'm not going to burden you be asking that you remember everything you've ever read."

Hermione looks faintly confused, like she's surprised that I'm not angry at her, "Uhh, okay…"

I look over at their papers, they haven't written anything in the past twenty minutes, "Anyways, let's get back to work."

Neville and Hermione frown at my sudden decision to change the topic, but they follow my lead as I pull out my completed assignments and begin reading them. Before long, Hermione finishes her Astronomy paper and we begin revising each other's work. As expected her papers are each significantly longer than the requested two foot, but I find myself learning a lot by reading them. I am a good student and I put in a decent amount of effort to make sure that my own papers covered the requested topics. However, I only wrote enough to receive a good grade. I prefer to read, memorize and use practically rather than write straight facts, but Hermione… she goes above and beyond by providing almost every important aspect about the subject.

"Hermione?" I find myself saying questioningly.

"Hmm?" she replies while continuing to read and mark my paper.

"Would you mind being my revision partner for our homework assignments? You can say no, I don't want to hamper you…"

She looks up excitedly, "I'd love to! You are obviously a great writer, even if you don't put as many facts in your paper as I do. You put more analyzation and comparisons in your paper, and it's interesting to read about the connections you draw between the topic and other aspects of magic."

A faint blush rises on my cheeks as she praises my work so thoroughly, "Thanks Hermione. I've learned a lot from your papers too!"

I look down at my watch which reads 3:15, "Oh no! I have to go. I'm supposed to meet Harry and Ron for tea at Hagrid's!"

I scramble to collect all my papers and look at the one that Hermione is still revising, "Hermione you can keep that one to finish revising. Here, I've finished both of yours!"

I hurriedly hand back her assignments and throw my backpack over my shoulder.

"Bye!" I call as I run off.

I quickly make my way through Hogwart's endless corridors and eventually reach the side of the castle nearest Forbidden Forest. Finally, I reach Hagrid's hut and knock on the door. I hear scrambling and a couple of loud barks before his door opens.

"Heather?" he asks looking at me in confusion, his hand holding the collar of a very large boarhound.

"Harry said that I could come for tea." I say quickly.

He didn't tell Hagrid that I was coming?

He nods, "Ya', come in then. Harry isn't here ye'."

"I think he's bringing another boy as well."

"Hmm, wha' boy?" Hagrid asks curiously.

"Ronald Weasley."

We hear a knock on the front door and Hagrid opens it revealing Ron and Harry.

"You must be Ronald Weasley." Hagrid says to the red-haired boy as he lets them into the hut.

"Yes I am."

"I've spen' half my life chasin' your brothers away from the Forbidden forest; I 'ope you don't join 'em."

"No, sir."

"Good. Now 'arry how's yer first week been?" Hagrid asks as he pours tea into four large mugs.

I take a delicate sip of the hot tea as Harry launches into a long explanation regarding his classes and his take on them.

I'm glad Harrys having such a wonderful time here at Hogwarts. I hope it stays this way throughout our years here.

Fang moves his drooling face from Ron's lap and towards me, but I wince and shift my legs away. He gives me a quick lick and I pat his head affectionately, yet relief flows through my body when he decides that Harry will be his next drool victim. Harry starts ranting about Fitch and Snape, and how the later seems to have it out for him.

I laugh when he brings up how Snape targeted him in potion's class today.

He has no idea how bad it would have been if he didn't know the answers to those questions.

"Harry, maybe Snape does have it out for you right now. But you answered all of his questions correctly, so perhaps you impressed him today and he'll target you less."

I know its wishful thinking on my part but it might be true.

Ron snorts, "Snape does not seem like the type to forget his target."

I shrug my shoulders as Hagrid blurts out, "Snape doesn't like any of the students so don't think on it anymor'."

Hagrid changes the topic by asking Ron about his brother Charlie in Romania.

I'm pretty sure that's the one that works with dragons.

I eye Harry as he picks up the Daily Prophet which was left in a very obvious position.

I think its better that he learns about Voldemort's true strength and determination early on.

As the three of us make our way towards the castle, Harry asks, "Heather?"


"Do you remember that day we went to Diagon Alley with Hagrid?"

"I do."

"How about that weird object he picked up?"

"Harry, what about it?"
"Somebody tried to steal it on the very same day that he took it out of Gringotts."

Ron interrupts, "What object?"

Harry says, "Some tiny thing that was wrapped in paper. Anyways, someone broke into the same vault that it was in! I just read about it in the paper."

"What do you expect us to do about it?" I ask curiously.

"I don't know. What was it!? Why did somebody try to steal it? Where is it now?"

I laugh, "Your nosiness knows no limits."

Harry frowns, "It could be important. What if Dumbledore doesn't know that somebody tried to steal it? We should warn him!"

"Harry," I say very seriously, "Of course, Dumbledore knows somebody wants to steal it. Why else would he have removed it from Gringotts?"

Harry throws his arms up in frustration, "I don't know."

"For now… Forget about it."

We finally reach the castle and the three of us say our good-byes.

As the two boys move off, I call out, "Harry! Don't forget about tomorrow morning!"

In the distance I hear Ron say, "Heather was right about Dumbledore. He knows everything!"

I sigh to myself.

The sooner we start up our practices again, the happier I will be.

September 6, 1991

Dear Gran,

In my last letter, I told you about how I met the famous Harry Potter on the train ride to school. I even mentioned that we are roommates. But I forgot to mention that the old rumors are true. The Potters had another child, a girl, Heather. She is very nice and really smart. My friend, Hermione, a girl who is also very bright, and Heather have been helping me with my homework and spell work.

Today, they were discussing something interesting that captured my attention. They were talking about the new research that Mr. Ollivander is conducting on wands; and Heather said that there is a special bond between wands and their owners. This bond supposedly makes the wand loyal to its owner so it won't work properly for another wizard.

You know that I love my father and everything that he did for the Wizarding world in the fight against you-know-who. I've always wanted to live up to my parent's legacy but I'm finding it very difficult. His wand and I aren't bonding properly; every time I try to cast a spell it fights me. I know that my father and his wand made an amazing match, and that they were able to perform awesome feats of magic together. I want the same type of bond with my own wand.

Gran will you please take me to visit Ollivander's Wand Shop over Christmas break? I want a wand that chooses me. One that wants to bond and create our own legacy, and make you proud.



*Chapter 21*: The Room of Requirement and Flying Class

First Draft Posted: 10/16/16

First Revision Posted: 10/19/16

Thanks to everyone who keeps reading!


Next Update - Sunday 10/23/16

Chapter 20: The Room of Requirement and Flying Class

September 11, 1991

Dearest Heather,

I'm disappointed in you – I've already received two letters from your brother yet not a single one from you. I even had to hear from Harry that you were sorted into Slytherin house. I hope that your sorting hasn't kept you from writing to me. In any case, I want to assure you that there's nothing wrong with being in Slytherin. I know that I talked badly about them when you were younger, but they have had their share of great witches and wizards. I know that you will make your house proud and hopefully you can sway some of the younger generation from their more outdated family traditions.

There's all sorts of questions that I want to ask you: How have you been? How are your teachers and classes? Have you made any friends? Why were you so rude to a certain Professor?

Harry informed me about an incident in the Leaky Cauldron where you met a certain Professor. He mentioned that you were particularly rude and we both thought that was out of character for you. I want to know if there is something that I should know? Should I tell Dumbledore about said Professor?



September 12, 1991

We need a place to train that's hidden from others. We need a place to train that's hidden from others. We need a place to train that's hidden from others.

On Hogwart's 7th floor in the left corridor, I pace back and forth in front of a bare wall. Hanging across the hall is a tapestry that depicts Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls. This is the location of the wonderful come-and-go room. The most wonderful room that I personally believe has ever been invented. Harry and I have been visiting it every morning for the past week but I have also used it as a study room a couple of times. Harry is patiently waiting for the door to open because some days the room takes longer to respond to my wishes. Thankfully, today doesn't seem to be one of those because a small wooden door, just small enough for us to squeeze through, appears.

When we enter I notice that the room has transformed itself into our usual training room. The walls are adorned with large mirrors - covered from top to bottom. They are particularly useful because they allow us to see ourselves and our movements. If we need to correct our position or a certain technique the mirrors make it a lot easier. The floor is padded with soft blue foam mats, which means that Harry and I can fall to the ground without worrying about an injury. The mats are also comfy to sit on when we are meditating. In order to practice Taekwondo efficiently the room has also supplied us with sparring equipment and hanging punching bags.

This is definitely the best room ever invented.

"Let's get started!" I announce indicating the foam mats.

After warming up, we spend a good forty minutes sparring with one another and taking turns referring. Alternating referees means that both Harry and I have to be fair towards one another and each match. Harry beats me six to four; he's always been slightly better than me at Taekwondo. I know that we are both athletically inclined due to our inheritance from James and how we've practiced since we were young, but Harry has a matchless grace about him. He is always able to adapt to a new situation or manipulate his body just quickly enough, in order to evade one of my punches or kicks. I know that it's a combination of his hard-work and genetics, but I've always felt a touch of envy at how easy sports are for him. Even so, I recognize that I'm not hopeless - I'm actually quite good at Taekwondo. I would be able to deflect any physical attack from someone of a reasonable size, however I sometimes wonder how I would fair against an opponent of a much larger size. Another thing that Harry and I will need to work on. Either way, I recognize that Harry and I are unique and each excel in different areas.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Our alarm clock resting in the corner of the room goes off, informing us that it is now 7 o'clock in the morning.

Harry turns to look at me, "Heather? Shall we practice wizard dueling now?"

I sigh, staring up at him from my position on the soft floor; I had collapsed on it shortly after our last match.

"Do we have too?" I complain while standing up and stripping off the Taekwondo equipment: the protective gloves, shoes and face gear.

"You're the one who insists that we wake up at this time. Every. Single. Morning."

"I know, Harry. I'm just complaining in order to complain. We both know that this is important."

"But WHY is it so important? Why won't you tell me why you are so paranoid? Nobody else practices dueling like we do or knows as many spells as you, not even Hermione!"

I wince, knowing that Harry is right to question my motives for making us train so desperately.

"Harry…" I look up at him and trail off at the look on his face. It morphs into one of frustration when he recognizes my tone of voice. I had trailed off with a tone once again suggesting that I wouldn't tell him today.

"Fine! It's not like you are any good at this anyways!" He snaps at me.

I'm going to have to tell him one of these days or he'll stop believing in me. Then again – by the end of the year he will definitely understand why I'm so paranoid. Maybe even by November if I can't do anything about that Troll encounter.

I know why Harry's frustrated with me and realize that he has a good reason to be upset, but his comment about my dueling skills still irks me. The comment itself is an obvious blow, it's something that anyone with eyes would be able to say, if they watched me duel for five minutes. I'm not too great at magical dueling and the two of us realized this on training day number 1. Even though I have good reflexes and know a lot of spells, my limited amount of power holds me back. I'm limited to one or two spells of below average or average strength during any one duel. The strength of the spells and whether or not they cast also depends on how I'm feeling at the time. This means that the more desperate or emotional I feel – the more likely I am to cast a spell.

It also means that unless I am wickedly creative and fight dirty, it's not much of a fight. Honestly, our 'dueling' is more like Harry's target practice time. It's still beneficial for me though – I mean I get a lot of exercise running around various terrains – uphill, downhill, mud, water, and sand – you name it – I've run through it for forty-five minutes. I'm also becoming very adept at dodging – I've had spells thrown at me when I'm at a standstill, walking, running, rolling or even upside down. Harry will be much better at hitting moving targets and dueling at a run than in the original series.

Our fights are pretty pathetic. I'm not even an opponent for Harry anymore and we've only been at this for a week. I should probably find him someone else to duel… but who can we trust? Neville or Hermione would be the obvious choices, but Neville isn't much better at casting than me and Hermione is still such a stickler for the rules… Hmm, what about Ron? He's a decent friend to Harry, knows about dueling and is okay with breaking rules… but his family is under Dumbledore's thumb! I'd love to ask Theo – he'd be the perfect competition, but I don't know if Harry will accept him. I wonder…

Harry interrupts my thoughts with a short, "Where do you want to duel today?"

He's still annoyed with me, it's probably best that I talk to him about another partner on a different day…

I smile, "How about the steps of a pyramid in Egypt?"

"Fine, but only because it's your choice today."

Harry and I have taken to transforming the room. Every morning we transform it into vastly different landscapes. On the first day I hadn't know if it would work, but with a simple request the room transformed itself into a miniature Amazon jungle. Of course, by miniature, I mean that the room provided an entire acre of jungle for Harry and me to slosh through. I still have no idea where all the water from the torrential down-pour went. This room is amazing, it astounds me each and every day as it fulfills our dreams of adventure and travel. It's a mystery, but one that I hope to solve before our third year at Hogwarts. Being able to recreate this room outside of the school would be a wonderful invention to introduce to the wizarding world.

Then again… maybe not… If dark wizards were able to have a room that provided them with whatever they want, the consequences could be detrimental. Not to mention, this room probably just takes the items that we use from the come-and-go room's storage. Although what Hogwarts student brings Taekwondo equipment? Muggle-born, maybe?

So far, I've only asked the room for various terrains for our duels, but after we've advanced significantly, or at least Harry has, I will ask it to provide opponents as well.

We want to have a Wizard's duel on an Egyptian pyramid. We don't want anyone to enter the room.

The air around us shimmers as the room expands to a massive proportion. Harry and I are soon standing on the steps of the "smallest" Egyptian pyramid - exactly as I had envisioned it in my mind. The sun blazes down on us with an intensity that I've never felt before and sand whips around us making it hard to see.

"This is going to suck," I mutter.

Harry withdraws his wand while I pull out my vine one and both of us jump into our dueling stances.

After I had taught Harry the necessary and proper dueling etiquette, I had insisted that the two of us not follow it. This is because it's a waste of our training time and isn't used in an actual life-or-death situation, which I'm actually trying to better prepare Harry for. The only other rule that the two of us had easily agreed to is that we don't cast any spells that cause actual bodily harm. A few bruises or cuts are fine because Harry can easily heal us of those, but anything else is off limits.

I do not want Dumbledore finding out that we've been dueling. If one of us gets severely hurt, we would have to go to Madam Pomfrey and then Dumbledore would be informed of our activities. We could risk lying to him – but going into the hospital wing every week still looks suspicious AND he could try to read our minds. I don't think that canon Dumbledore knew about the Room of Requirement until Harry's fifth year, and I want to keep it that way – if not keep it from him forever.

Harry casts the first spell yelling, "Tarantallegra!"

The dancing feet spell.

I duck down and into a roll that propels me towards Harry; I summon a feeling of desperation within my body before casting, "Locomotor Wibbly!"

Harry dodges the small orange light that goes shooting towards him and climbs a few of the pyramid's large steps. This puts him in a position with a greater height advantage than me.

We continue dueling until a loud blare of music bursts throughout the room. The use of music by the alarm clock signals that it is now 8 o'clock in the morning.

"Come on, Harry! Let's do a quick cool down." I call up at him, by now he's near the top of the pyramid and I'm only a few steps below him.

After we let our bodies cool down and stretch them out, we spend twenty minutes meditating in complete silence. Today's session of meditation is painful for the both of us because our thighs and butts are already aching from the pyramid climbing.

Finally, another alarm goes off – it's announcing that it is 8:20. I quickly stand up and shake my limbs, trying to lessen the soreness that I feel. Now, we need the room to transform itself again – Harry and I need to prepare for breakfast and our classes.

We need two separate bathrooms to shower and change. Do not let anyone in the room.

The room alters itself from the massive pyramid to a much smaller room with two separate bathrooms. Both bathrooms have a name plate hanging on their front door, one for each of us, and on the inside they are personally tailored to our specific preferences. My bathroom reminds me of the one in the Slytherin common room, with its green and silver decorations, green towels and marble furniture. Even the silver fixtures are very similar to the Slytherin ones.

It's kind of hard to believe how quickly Hogwarts has come to feel like "home". I even like the Slytherin decorations and the dark coldness of the dungeons.

When we finish, the two of us are squeaky clean in our school robes and ready to start the day.

"Ready to go?" Harry asks me.

I nod and begin communicating with the room, Open the door on a different corridor when nobody is in sight, then remove all traces of our presence from the room.

After a couple of minutes staring at a blank wall, the room of requirement finally opens a stone door. We step out of the room and into the fourth floor corridor, as usual there is nobody in sight.

"Let's head down to the Great Hall for breakfast."

I nod in agreement, "Okay, and you remember that we have our first flying lesson today, right?"

"Yes, I'm super excited! You and Remus have always told me how good of a flyer dad was, and I want to be just as good as him – if not better!"

"I think you'll do great. You've inherited all of his natural athleticism."

"I wish we didn't have flying with the Slytherins though," Harry complains, before remembering and hastily looking at me, "No offense."

I laugh, "Its fine."

We reach the Great Hall, say our good-byes, and head to our respective house tables. I notice that Theo isn't at the table, so I sit next to Tracey instead, "Hey Tracey. Where are the other girls?"

"Pansy got a new hair curling product so they just HAD to test it out this morning."

I snort in amusement, of course they did.

Tracey and I are the most studious amongst the first year Slytherin girls, and also happen to be the least preoccupied with makeup and hair products. The other girls are constantly badgering us about it, saying that we will regret it when we are older and can attend the Hogwart's balls. Honestly, knowing how to do my makeup and hair for a ball that won't happen until 4th year… well it doesn't even register on my list of priorities. Besides, I already know how to do simple makeup and hairstyles from my previous life. These similarities have allowed Tracey and I to reach an interesting compromise, we aren't quite friends but more like acquaintances that sometimes study together. She excels at Charms and helps me out as much as she can, while I reciprocate by helping her with the Potion's assignments. She's not my only study partner. I also spend a lot of my time holed up in the library with Hermione, Neville and Harry or Theo. Each of my friends excel at a different subject, which is particularly useful for all of us. Hermione is a whiz in everything, particularly Transfiguration, Neville is great at Herbology and Harry and Theo are tied for the top spot in DADA. Unfortunately, my Gryffindor friends aren't exactly welcoming when it comes to Theo, I think it stems from his father being a known Death Eater. We haven't talked about it, but I think their rejection really hurts him. I don't believe that a child should be responsible for the sins of their parents. However, the Gryffindors are only children and I can't be responsible for teaching them everything. So I split my time between Theo and Harry's Golden Trio, and enjoy their company as best as I can. After all, they are still mentally much younger than me – and no matter how many times I feel at odds with my young body and brain compared to my older "mind", I will still be mentally more mature than them for quite some time.

This is one of my main dilemmas – I still haven't been able to answer this question in the eleven years that I've been a part of this world. Am I mentally progressing at all… or is my mind frozen at twenty years old? If its frozen – will it continue maturing once my body's age catches up? I know that my body and my mind feel at odds with one another when a particularly traumatic or emotional event occurs. As if I'm experiencing such devastating emotions for the first time – even though I know my mind has already dealt with said emotions in my past life.

Even today, It's still hard to differentiate between my past emotions and my current emotions. Although admittedly, it has gotten slightly better with age. I remember when I was young, and Harry and I came across our neighbor's dead cat, Misty. My adult mind saw the body with detachment and the logical, "This occurs to everything," but my body or… young brain… was freaking out and emotionally devastated by the loss. Does this mean that there is a difference between the person I was and the person, "Heather" that I am now?

I sigh, these types of thoughts exhaust me, so most of the time I try to avoid them – instead I try living more in the moment, as Heather. The younger sister to the "Savior of the Wizarding World", the Tiny Potion's Master (a title I decided to give myself), Taekwondo and Yoga student, and Slytherin. These titles are easier to deal with than the foggy memories and ideas that shape my past life. A life that has gotten progressively more difficult to remember as the years have passed.

Honestly, my next project should be writing down everything that I remember from my previous life about this world. Especially with how many things I think I've forgotten over the years. It's just hard for me to write that information down – what if it falls into the wrong hands somehow? I really need to research how to keep it safe from prying eyes.

Either way, past me or current me, I think I always would have gotten along with Theo. At first, I offered him friendship because I recognized a friendly, intelligent, subtle and well-connected young pure-blood, but I didn't realize just how close the two of us would become. When I'm not with the young Gryffindors, Theo and I are attached at the hip – something the girls have started teasing me about. He has even been upholding his promise to me - we can often be found holed up in an empty classroom practicing dancing, eating with the proper utensils, and curtsying. He drills me on how to recognize someone of significant social standing and power, and how I should be introduced and speak to them – like an innocent young lady. We also practice speaking subtly with strangers in order to garner useful information – this is the skill that I enjoy the most. His tutoring, along with the small class that Slytherin first years are required to attend with the prefects, has vastly improved my knowledge and understanding of the older and powerful wizarding society. Of course, we also spend a lot of time together joking, practicing spells and finishing our homework assignments. I'm very glad that I became friends with Theo Nott, I just hope that we can remain friends through the harshness and cruelty that I know is only a couple of years away.

Tracey and I sit together at the Slytherin table quietly, not speaking after our first exchange of pleasantries, which is fine by me.

A loud voice from across the Hall garners my attention, "Give it back!"

Harry is yelling and glaring at Draco. I stare at them in confusion and shock – Harry didn't yell during this scene in the original series. Draco is bouncing a small red sphere, Neville's Rememberall, between his hands; I can't see his face but from what I know about him – I bet he's wearing his classic smirk. Theo, who is standing with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, glances over at the Slytherin table and catches my eye. He whispers something in to Draco's ear, which causes him to toss the Rememberall towards Harry, while saying something that I can't make out. Draco spins around and struts towards the Slytherin table with his typical arrogant swagger.

Well that was different… McGonagall didn't show up and Theo was there.

When the four boys reach the table, they sit next to Tracey and me. I ignore the others and turn towards Theo, seeking answers, "What was that about?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but Draco interrupts, "Don't worry about your precious little Gryffindors, Potter. I was just reminding them of all the fun we'll have today with Madam Hooch."

I narrow my eyes, "So you just happened to take Neville's Rememberall while speaking to them?"

He smirks, "Just a little demonstration regarding the Quidditch balls."

I frown, "One of these days, you're going to regret picking on Neville."

He laughs, "What's Longbottom going to do? Sit on me?"

What a PRAT!

Crabbe and Goyle chuckle at his mean remark and I say, "Just remember – I warned you."

The rest of the day flies by as we go through our usual class schedule of History of Magic, Herbology and Charms. The only change is that all anybody can talk about is Quidditch and our flying class with the Gryffindors.

When the clock finally strikes 3:30, most of the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors are already gathered on a smooth flat lawn. On the lawn rests twenty broomsticks in two neat rows.

A couple of minutes later Madam Hooch arrives, "What are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Hurry up!"

The Slytherins and Gryffindors each choose their own line of broomsticks; the segregation makes me sigh in annoyance, but I remain with my housemates in their chosen line.

Everything needs to happen the same way today so Harry can get on the Quidditch team.

"Now stick your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'"

Everyone in the class follows her instructions and shouts, "Up!"

My own broom rolls slightly on the ground and I frown at it in annoyance.

Maybe I'm just not cut out for this magical sport stuff.

I glance over at Harry, his broom is already in his hand and he is beaming down at it in delight. Confidence seems to ooze off of him and he grins even bigger when we make eye contact, "I did it!" he mouths.

Draco is the only other student who is able to get his broom off the ground almost immediately, the rest of us are still struggling. Before long, only my broom and Neville's are still rolling around, and when we make eye contact we give each other pitiful and sympathetic smiles. My housemates are snickering behind me and even some of the Gryffindors are looking at us in annoyance. I watch Hermione whisper something in Neville's ear, and suddenly his face looks more determined and he glares down at the broom.

In a commanding voice he yells, "Up!"

Unwillingly, the broom obeys his command and shakily settles under his palm. My broom is the only one left on the ground, so Madam Hooch finally declares, "Let's move on to the next step while Ms. Potter continues to work on the first one."

Well that's embarrassing.

The sympathetic looks that I receive from Harry, Neville and Hermione only cause my frustration to morph into irritation so I turn away from them childishly.

I don't need anyone's pity.

I stand on the outer-skirts of the group, watching as Madam Hooch directs the class. She is showing them how to properly mount their brooms and adjusting their grips. She tells Draco that he has been holding his broom incorrectly for years and will need to adapt the proper form. Ron and Harry watch in delight as she corrects him and they snicker together obviously. Draco notices and he glares at them with a look of hatred, probably willing them to shut up.

After one more attempt with my own broomstick, which results in a tiny roll, I decide to carry it over to a shady spot under a nearby tree. This far away from the group I can't make out what they are saying.

I hope removing myself from this situation will allow this scene to happen the same way it did in canon.

A couple of minutes later, I watch as Neville rises straight up into the air, his look of terror only increasing as the broom steadily rises higher. Below him Madam Hooch is yelling something, and expressions of horror are distributed across the faces of the remaining students. Only Draco, Crabbe and Goyle are acting indifferent about the situation. From my spot, I wince when Neville's body hits the ground, and I smother my instinct to jump up. I know that I won't be of any assistance and that I need to witness the next scene.

Madam Hooch helps Neville up and cradling his wrist the pair moves across the field, towards the Hospital Wing. When I can no longer see them, I decide to rejoin my peers who are now crowded in a giant circle. I move my way through the crowd of first years and stop when I reach Theo. He glances at me but his attention quickly returns to the pair of boys in the center of the crowd.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry says quietly.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

As Draco swings his leg over his broom, Theo makes a sudden movement, as if to stop him. I grab his sleeve before he can say or do anything, and when he looks at me curiously, I shake my head.

Draco takes off from the ground and stops a few yards above everyone's heads, "Come and get it, Potter!" he taunts.

When Harry grabs his broom, Hermione shouts, "No! Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us into trouble!"

Harry swings his leg over his broom and Hermione turns towards me desperate, "Heather! Say something to your brother!"

Harry pauses at her words and turns to look at me; I shrug my shoulder non-committedly and don't say anything. This is a good rule to break for Harry – he becomes the youngest Seeker in a century! Harry turns towards Draco and goes soaring into the air, the feeling of jealousy fills my body, and I try to tamper it down.

Harry has always been the natural athlete. He needs the freedom and relief that Quidditch will bring him.

I watch as Harry and Draco shout at each other while they hover almost 30 yards in the air; Draco throws the Rememberall and Harry shoots off like a rocket.

He catches the ball after a terrific dive and jumps off his broomstick, "I got it!"

Harry waves the Rememberall triumphantly as he lands on the ground and all of the Gryffindors run to meet him with their shouts of glee. When the Gryffindors and Harry spot Professor McGonagall, their triumphant shouts disappear into whispers. I'm standing with the Slytherins, having decided to not run after my brother as he landed his broomstick.

No better time to show House solidarity than when your jealous of your older brother, and he's still annoyed with you for not answering his prying questions.

"HARRY POTTER!" I hear Professor McGonagall scream.

Draco sniggers, "Now Potter's going to get it."

Pansy says, "But what if he tattles on you, Draco?"

"The Great and Noble Potter wouldn't tattle on anyone." Draco says confidently.

Theo pitches in, "You don't know that Draco. You aren't his friend OR related to him."

Draco's eyes widen and he turns towards me, a smirk rising to his lips, "What are you going to do at Hogwarts without your famous brother, Heather?"

I raise my eyebrow at him, "You think they're going to expel the savior of the Wizarding World?"

Sometimes his lack of planning astounds me. You'd think that a "born" Slytherin would understand the perks of being famous.

Draco's expression morphs from a confident sneer into one of irritation as he comprehends the reality of the situation, "Well, at least he'll get in trouble."

I shrug my shoulders and walk away from the group, heading back to my broom under the shady tree. I know that Madam Hooch won't be back for quite some time and the rest of the class is just going to gossip, so I might as well relax while I can. Unfortunately, when I relax I often lose myself in my thoughts, and this time is no different.

Sometimes I really wish that I hadn't been reborn. This is so much responsibility! I don't even know what events I'm supposed to change and which ones I'm supposed to keep the same. Am I supposed to keep anything the same? Am I allowed to change whatever I want? What if I had decided that Harry was better off supporting Voldemort? Who would've stopped us, or me? How was I even chosen for this position?

The only clues that I have are that dream with the creepy voices and that foggy memory from when I was in Lily's womb. All I've learned is that they gave me some task to complete here, which I can't fail, and that it was hard for them to get ahold of this body.

Obviously I was sent here for a reason. So that's not hard to understand. And as for the body – well Harry never had a sister in canon… maybe Lily and James were never meant to have a girl? There's so many ways that can be taken. Maybe I'm not actually their child and I was only implanted in Lily's body… I just don't know!

And what about that sphere? Why was I sent to the "Magical World of Harry Potter" only to have my own powers sucked away? Shouldn't the ones that sent me here, warned me? Or protected me? Maybe, they were the ones that did it? In that case, am I supposed to remain weak or find a way to gain more power?

Again… there's just so many variables and so many things that I don't understand. My only real option is to keep training myself and Harry and research everything as best as I can.

Finally, Madam Hooch returns twenty minutes later. Her arrival jerks me out of my deep thoughts and I drag my broom over to rejoin the class.

When I arrive, she is wearing an expression of outrage, "I'm cancelling the rest of today's lesson as punishment for disobeying my instructions; Mr. Malfoy, you will NOT be receiving a detention today. For some reason, half of the class says that you remained on the ground while the other half says that you flew in the air."

"Wait! Professor!" Hermione exclaims when she notices that I've rejoined the class.

"What, Ms. Granger?"

"Heather will tell you that Malfoy was flying along with Harry! She'll prove that it's the Slytherins that are lying!"

Seriously, Hermione? Fuck. Why would you try to alienate me from my housemates?

Madam Hooch stares at me pointedly, waiting for my explanation, while both my housemates and the Gryffindors glare at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry Madam Hooch – I wandered away from the group in order to practice calling my broom to my hand – I didn't see anything."

The Gryffindors glare at me in outrage and Hermione's expression turns into one of disbelief and disappointment. The Slytherins are suddenly grinning and looking at me in delight.

Madam Hooch also wears a look of disappointment, "I see. Well, class dismissed!"

As the Slytherins walk back to the Common room, Theo turns to me, "I can't believe you lied for Draco."

I glare at the back of the pale boy in question and say loudly, "I didn't do it for him. Now, he owes me a favor."

Draco's back straightens in front of us.

Good, he heard me.

Later that day, Theo spots me waiting patiently outside of the Great Hall, "What are you doing, Heather?"

"Waiting for someone, Theo. Can you save me a spot at dinner?"

"Uhh… sure. Don't take too long though or you might find that Daphne has replaced you."

I frown at his retreating back, knowing that he was teasing me, but also recognizing how truthful that statement is.

Right now, I am replaceable. I'm practically useless.

My depressing thoughts, the snide comments in the hallways and my failures from the past weeks are weighing heavily on my mind. I feel lost in the wonderful world of Harry Potter, and the only thing keeping me truly grounded is my brother.

I need a new plan. A new project. Something to keep my mind occupied. Actually – I think I'll start researching protections for those journals that I want to write.

I hear Draco, Crabbe and Goyle rounding the corner of the corridor. I quickly enter the Great Hall and make my way towards my brother and his friends.

When I stop by them, Harry looks up at me with a frown on his face, "What do you want?" he asks in a frightening tone of voice.

I wince, "I just want to make sure that you are okay. You didn't get in trouble right?"

"I didn't get into trouble. No thanks to you, the other Gryffindors told me that you lied. You covered Malfoy's butt when he could have gotten into trouble for flying and taking Neville's Rememberall! How could you? He's such a prat!"

The said prat walks up behind me with his two cronies, "Hey Potter, When's your detention? Your sister here got me out of mine."

Draco smirks at me.

This jerk – I save his butt and he purposely rubs it in my brother's face – he knows that it'll make Harry upset.

Harry glances between the two of us and a frown rises to his face, "You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you."

Draco scowls at him, "I'd take you on anytime, on my own. Tonight, we can have a Wizard's duel – wands only, no contact."

Harry breaks in, "You're on."

"Wait! Harry, how about I fight Draco - to prove that I'm not one of his 'little friends'?"

I wince at the sound of my own desperation but hold myself firm.

If Harry avoids me, because he's mad, then he won't train in the room of requirement. That'll be detrimental to his future! If I can get back into his good graces like this – than it's fine that I look pathetic or desperate.

Draco scoffs, "Why would I fight a weakling like you? You couldn't even get your broom off the ground or transfigure a matchstick! No. I want to fight the famous Potter - not a little nobody like you!"

Crabbe and Goyle laugh loudly at Draco's statement and Hermione, Ron, Neville and Harry look at me with pity, but none of them reprimand my housemate for his rude statements.

Guess you can't say anything when it's true.

Harry says, "I'll fight you, Malfoy. Tonight – midnight – on the wooden bridge."

"Harry!" Hermione shrieks, "You can't leave the castle in the middle of the night! You'll lose Gryffindor points! That's really selfish of you."

"You're on!" Malfoy replies.

"Harry…" I say quietly.

"Stop. Just leave."

I follow Draco, Crabbe and Goyle towards the Slytherin table. Luckily, Theo hasn't actually replaced me with Daphne, so I sit next to him gloomily.

This is pathetic. I'm pathetic. I HATE this!

Questions Answered:

Why is Heather magically weak?

1. I like the drama this brings and I'm writing ;)

2. Harry can't rely on Heather too much or he won't be useful as a character.

3. Heather NEEDS to grow as a character.

- As seen in Ch 20 she is being angsty and self-deprecating ... I DON'T WANT her to remain this way.

- She needs to find the strength to overcome this challenge.

- Just like in the real world - nothing will change until you have the right attitude.

4. This is an important plot point for the first book! Reasons will become more clear and fleshed out as I revise and continue writing!

Are you only making her weak to stop her from being a "Mary-Sue"?

1. NO! I have a legitimate plot building/developing reason WHY Heather is weak RIGHT NOW.

Will Heather's power return?


*Chapter 22*: The Midnight Duel and Fluffy

First Draft Posted: 10/22/16

Chapter 21: The Midnight Duel

September 12, 1991

At 11 o'clock, I'm sitting at a large table in the Slytherin common room working on a transfiguration assignment and subtly watching Draco laugh giddily. He is explaining to Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, Blaise and Pansy how he goaded Harry and his sidekicks into breaking the school rules.

At the end of his narrative he glances over at me with narrowed eyes and says loudly, "Right before curfew I told Filch where they would be and at what time. I bet they'll be stupid enough to actually go too!"

Seriously? Doesn't he know that I'll actually do something about his plan? Maybe he thinks I'll be dumb enough to run after them and get caught too. The stupid prat is asking for a little payback.

I reply calmly, "I bet they will be, but we also recognize what a coward YOU are, Draco."

Pansy gasps and Draco turns his steely eyes towards me, "I am not a coward – I never intended to go, it was only a ploy to get your brother and his little sidekicks in trouble."

"So you challenged my brother openly yet won't actually go and fight him? Sounds cowardly to me."

"I'm NOT a coward!" Draco is glaring at me angrily, "I can't afford to get into trouble. You know just how prejudiced most of the teachers are, especially towards Slytherin! My punishment will be far worse than theirs if we're caught."

So he actually has thought about going… Well I can work with that.

"What if I can guarantee that you won't get caught?"

This could be a chance for Harry to fight someone with greater magical power than me. By fighting a decent opponent, he may learn a few things. Well… I hope that Draco will be a better opponent.

Snidely he says, "How can a powerless nobody like you ensure that?"

"I'll stand watch and intercept any teachers that happen to head our way. I'll distract them so the rest of you can escape."

And I have a spell or two in mind…

Millicent pitches in, "Draco, this could be your chance to really beat Potter. You can show him who is actually the better Wizard."

Crabbe and Goyle nod their heads at her statement and I grin, "See Draco? Everyone else agrees with my plan – if you still won't agree to fight now that you won't get caught… well it means that you're a chicken."

The purebloods look at me in confusion while the other half-bloods smile slightly.

Surprisingly, Goyle is the one that asks, "Why would he be a chicken?"

I lean forward, as if I'm going to tell them a secret, "It means that he's too afraid to do something – like fight Harry Potter."

Draco glares at me - I've fully backed him into a corner and he hates it. In the minds of Slytherins, he'll have to go and fight in order to maintain his "honor" and appearance.

"Fine!" he snaps, "Goyle you can be my second."

I shake my head, "No. You and Harry never mentioned seconds! The two of you will be the only ones to fight."

He frowns, "You expect me to wander around the castle with you and a bunch of Gryffindors?"

Oh, Draco…

"Yes. I do."

At half-past-eleven, Draco and I step out of the Slytherin common room. The other first years are all wishing Draco luck and telling me to keep my promise so Draco doesn't get caught.

Yes, because that's my only goal in life – protecting Draco. Blugh. Just what I need.

"Draco," I whisper once we're in the corridor, "Cast this, 'Dissimulatio', on me. Make sure you move your wrist like this and tap my head."

"What's this going to do?" he asks suspiciously.

"Just do it! We're still next to the Common room. Why would I do anything to harm you?"

"Like you even could," he scoffs.

Thankfully, he pulls out his wand, taps my head and mutters, "Dissimulatio."

His eyes widen in amazement and I feel the sensation of an egg cracking on my head. I shiver as the spell works its way down my body, it feels like the insides of an egg are sliding down my body. When the weird sensation dissipates, I look down at my body – everything is camouflaged with the background.

I nod in confirmation, "Perfect!"

"How do you know that spell?" He whispers excitedly, "We aren't supposed to learn it for years!"

"How were you able to cast such a high level spell?" I respond cheekily, "Now cast it on yourself. All you have to do is spin your wand in a circle around your body. Hurry up!"

Once the two of us are disillusioned, we run through the hallways making our way towards the Wooden Bridge.

When we reach the corridor before the bridge I grab Draco's sleeve to slow him down. I peek around the corner and I don't see anyone so I whisper, "Let's wait here a second."

Come on Harry… Where are you?

Amusingly, I wonder if my Harry is too different from the canon one.

What if Harry figures out it was a set up and smartly decides to not come?

As it turns out, a couple of minutes later, he proves to be just as similar and righteous as the canon Harry. Four Gryffindors appear in the corridor with Harry in the lead.

They stop next to the Wooden bridge, and from our position, peering around the corner, we are able to watch and listen as Hermione grabs Harry's arm, "Look! I told you it was a set up. Nobody's here!"

Harry shakes his head, "Heather was there too. She'll convince him to come."

Hermione shakes her head exasperatedly, "You do realize that you two are fighting, right? And Draco treats her horribly, why would she talk to him?"

I feel rather than see Draco tense up.

"Leave it, Hermione. I know Heather."

I tug on his sleeve and drag him into the corridor to where the Gryffindors are waiting. For a moment, I'm confused – they didn't turn to watch us walk towards them or acknowledge our presence.

Oh right… the spell.

Draco chuckles lightly when he realizes the same thing.

Almost immediately, Harry has his wand out pointing in our direction.

He angrily whispers, "Who's there? Is that you, Malfoy?"

Very good, he was able to pull his wand out quickly and settle into a defensive stance.

I giggle and whisper softly, "It's me, Harry."

"Heather? Why are you here and why are you invisible?"

As Harry questions me, Hermione gasps, "Heather?"

"Where's Malfoy?" Ron asks loudly.

This kid! Doesn't he understand that we're out after curfew and need to be quiet?

"I'm here, Weasel - And I'm going to crush your friend during this duel."

Ron hisses angrily looking around, "Where are you? Afraid to show your face?"

"Shut up! You don't…"

I cut Draco off before he can finish, "Stop it you two! There's no time for this!"

I turn towards Harry, even though they still can't see us, "Harry – we can't fight here. Filch will be coming in a couple of minutes. But I have a plan – everyone needs to link hands!"

I grab one of Harry and Draco's hands as Harry links with the other Gryffindors. I start pulling their hands, encouraging everyone to run away from the Wooden bridge. When we reach the fourth floor corridor, I stop and calmly look around, searching for the perfect room. I decide upon one of the older classrooms, one that's not used for classes this year. After I pull everyone inside, Neville and Hermione hunch over to catch their breath and the others sigh in relief.

After a moment, I say, "Draco!"

He jumps at the sharpness in my voice, and I command, "Cast 'Finite', on yourself and then me."

He replies in an irritated voice, "Stop telling me what to do!"

"Do you want to stay invisible forever?" I say exasperatedly.

Hermione has caught her breath and manages to ask, "You guys cast the Disillusionment charm on yourselves? Isn't that fifth year coursework?"

Draco mutters, "Fifth year?"

He taps me with his wand and mutters the spell, and then proceeds to cast it on himself.

I laugh, "I didn't cast anything. It was all Draco."

When he reappears, Hermione looks at him with both an appraising and impressed expression; Ron, Neville and Harry all look slightly jealous while I just feel a contented amusement.

Draco seems to stand a little straighter at the praise.

He really likes compliments.

"Are you guys really going to duel?" Neville asks, his sleepy expression having worn off after our run.

The atmosphere amongst our group immediately turns from a quiet peace to a more hostile one.

Well it was fun while it lasted…

Harry and Malfoy are glaring at each other and they both pull out their wands out. Warily I note that they have both taken up dueling stances and are ready to start firing at the slightest movement.

I clear my throat pointedly and the two of them turn to look at me slowly, keeping one eye on each other.

"We need to discuss rules and clear the room." I tell them pointedly.

Both of them nod their heads in agreement and slowly lower their wands.

I say, "There will be no spells cast with the intent to injure the other."

Both boys make sounds of protest, but I cut them off, "We don't know enough healing spells to help someone if they get hurt – and we can't have questions asked at the infirmary!"

Harry sighs, recognizing the same rules that the pair of us use when we duel in the mornings.

He nods in agreement which causes Draco to do the same.

"Good." I say with a smile, "Now let's clear the room."

As the rest of us go to move the desks by hand, Draco interrupts, "Just let me do it."

He waves his wand and mutters something quietly which causes most of the desks to move to the outer edge of the classroom.

I look at him with one eyebrow raised, and he shrugs his shoulders, "How do you think I clean my room?" he mutters.

My own mouth almost drops open from that statement – the great, pureblood, rich, Draco Malfoy, had to clean his own room?

What is this world coming to? Maybe he isn't that bad after all… And maybe his parents aren't that clueless.

I shake my head to clear it of such ridiculous thoughts, and we finish moving the remaining desks by hand. When we finish Harry and Draco relocate to the center of the classroom and once again pull out their wands and settle into dueling stances.

"Okay, this is a formal duel with proper etiquette!" I declare from the edge of the room, nearest the door.

The two boys bow to each other and separate the allotted number of steps.

Draco casts the first spell, "Incendio!"

Harry dodges and yells, "Locomotor Wibbly!"

Draco leaps to the side drastically, "Mucus Ad Nauseam!"

As they cast spells back and forth, with the other Gryffindors looking on in amazement and rapt fascination, I peak my head out of the classroom.

So far, so good… I don't see anyone.


Harry bursts into laughter behind me. When I turn to look at him, my eyes widen in disbelief, because Harry is kneeling on the floor. His wand is on the ground next to him and his arms are clutching his sides. The weirdest thing about the scene is his mad laughter, it causes me to shiver – and not in a good way. It's the sound of unbridled and somewhat unhinged laughter.

Well… that was unexpected.

Calmly I say, "Draco, you won. Please undo your spell."

Ron bursts out, "There's no way he won! Harry can still fight!"

I shake my head, "Under the rules I gave them, Draco won. Harry is on the ground and would find it difficult to retaliate."

Draco has a huge grin on his face as he steps up to Harry and casts the counter-spell.

"Not so cocky now, are you Potter?" he says.

Harry grabs his wand as if he's going to attack Draco again.

"Harry," I say sharply.

His eyes narrow but he takes in a deep breath and lowers his wand to his side.

Draco continues to taunt him, "That's right. Listen to your weak little sister."

Harry bursts out, "That's it! No baby spells this time!"

I turn to peak out of the room once more - hoping the commotion still hasn't drawn unwanted attention.

Oh, no!

"Mrs. Norris!" I whisper anxiously.

With that, I have everyone's attention, "Hurry let's go! This way!"

There's only one exit and it's directly into Mrs. Norris' corridor, but I know she would have heard us in the classroom and tattled to Mr. Filch anyways. If we run away, she has to follow us until we stop. She can't report to Mr. Filch and not be able to tell him our location. So I lead them out of the classroom and down the corridor at a run. Mrs. Norris follows rapidly while letting out loud anxious meows.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"What about your promise?" Draco hisses at me while we run.

"Don't worry, we won't get caught… probably."

I lead us down the stairs onto the third floor, where unsurprisingly, we are standing at the beginning of right hand side corridor. Mrs. Norris lets out a particularly loud wail, and now Mr. Filch's panting can be heard further down the corridor.

Hermione gestures at the only large wooden door available to hide behind, "In here!"

Neville tries to open it but it won't budge, "It's locked!" he whispers.

Please, please, let us escape this encounter unscathed.

"Oh move over!" Hermione pushes him out of the way in order to stand directly in front of the lock, she flicks her wand, "Alohomora!"

The six of us pile into the room, I enter with a determination and position myself to stare straight at the three-headed dog. The others are fidgeting and pressing themselves to the door, Draco and Neville are the next to notice the three-headed dog. Both of them let out tiny whimpers at his ginormous appearance. Luckily, he is still sleeping, but I know it won't last for long because Ron and Hermione are still arguing against the door. When the original 'Golden Trio' finally notices Fluffy, he is beginning to shift in place, waking from his slumber. Finally, his eyes open and he notices the six of us, a loud bloodcurdling growl is released.

"The door. Now!" I manage to gasp out, but Harry is already grappling with it.

The door is yanked open and we all push our way out of the hidden corridor. We forcefully shut the door as Fluffy's slavering teeth nip at it. Without saying anything the four Gryffindors take off at a run. I guess they're heading towards their common room, too frightened to stop and talk about it without the safety of familiar walls. Draco looks like he's about to do the same.

"Draco. Wait!" I stammer, still finding it hard to breathe from the fear.

I know that Filch doesn't catch the Gryffindors, but we have to go the other way… we might meet him in the hallway.

"Cast the disillusionment charm again… please!"

He nods quickly, and pulls out his wand, once the charm has settled over the pair of us we make our way towards the Slythering dungeons. It's a good thing he cast that charm because, sure enough, we pass Mrs. Norris. She throws up her nose and sniffs daintily as we pass by but thankfully we don't see any sign of Mr. Filch. I'm not sure if Draco's second casting of disillusionment charms, under intense fear and pressure, would have been strong enough to hide us from him.

Before we head further down into the dungeons towards our bedrooms, Draco calls out, "I'm going to tell my Father about that, that thing, that Dumbledore's keeping on the school grounds."

That's what I was hoping you'd do.

I shrug my shoulders, "Why should I care what you do?"

I head down to my room, where all of the other girls are already asleep, and change into my pajamas. I settle into my bed with a sigh, letting the fear and worries of the day slip away.

I can worry about the crazy events from today, later. I do wonder what kind of repercussions will occur to the timeline due to the changes in this particular excursion?

September 13, 1991


Last night, I beat Harry Potter during a Wizard's duel! I was forced to sneak out past curfew - because he didn't want to fight me in the middle of the day. I bet he didn't want anyone else to bear witness to his horrible defeat. Breaking the rules was worthwhile though, at least for the most part, because I won! And don't worry… I wasn't caught. I'm able to cast a disillusionment charm now, which made sure that I was hidden from Mr. Filch and his dumb cat. Unfortunately, the only ones that saw his defeat were a couple of other Gryffindors and his sister, Heather. I'll make sure to let everyone else know that I beat him. Such a momentous event can't go uncelebrated, and I know that the other Slytherins at least will believe me. If I can get those hot-headed Gryffindors to tell the truth than everyone else will know what happened as well. Anyways – that's not even the craziest event that occurred last night. Did you know that Dumbledore is hiding a giant beast in the castle? While the Gryffindors were trying to hide from Mr. Filch, I was dragged along with them, and we accidently found ourselves in the "forbidden" third corridor. How could such a dangerous corridor and beast be hidden away in a corridor which opens with a simple Alohomora spell? Anyone that has passed their first year would be able to wander into it. When we opened the door we found ourselves face to face with a giant slavering dog with three heads! It was growling and even tried to take a bite out of my arm! I have no idea why Dumbledore is keeping such a vicious beast locked inside the castle with students. It could easily be stumbled upon and somebody could lose their life. It was only due to my superior talents that I was able to keep mine and save the others.

Your Son,


*Chapter 23*: Children can be Cruel

First draft posted: 11/25/16

Author Note:

*IMPORTANT* I will continue updating a few chapters over the next few weeks without posting a new chapter. There's some significant 'dreams' that I'm going to add in. Afterwards, I'll probably be done fixing the old material.

Next Update: Roughly 3.5 weeks!

CHAPTER WARNING: Bullying + Some Violence

Chapter 22: Children can be Cruel

October 9, 1991 – Wednesday

Once again, I find myself standing in the white marble room but the atmosphere is slightly different. I cast my eyes around the room warily – I'm expecting those powerful voices to call out to me. Yet as I look around, even double checking the shadows and under the table, I find that I'm completely alone. Rather than sitting in one of the chairs patiently, I find myself filled with a growing curiosity. Why was I left alone in such a gorgeous room? What if I figured out the voices secrets?

I mean… this place is ridiculous… high ceilings, marble chairs and table, and what looks like a pure crystal dish in the center of the table?

I hop up and down trying to get a better view of the item laid at the center but the table is positioned too high for me to get a good look. Annoyed, I turn towards the marble seat closest to me and notice that the seat is at my eye level. The seat gives me pause as I consider both it and the situation.

Finally, I decide that I may never get an opportunity like this again… so I might as well.

I grab onto the seat and easily pull my body onto it. I laugh when it hits me - the long hours training for Taekwondo and practicing yoga have made my upper arm strength far greater than it had ever been in my old life. Once again, I'm a completely different person.

I shake off the sense of nostalgia before my mind can be flooded with memories of my old muggle life and family. Instead I focus on the task at hand – exploring the table top. From my new position I am able to better examine the crystal dish that is filled with the most delicious looking water that I have ever seen. I mean can water even look delicious outside of a dream?

I reach my hand out for the dish, but it slips and the crystal dish teeters in the center of the table. I watch in horror as some of the water sloshes out of it.

A voice calls out, "What are you doing?"

Startled, I whip around to face the voice, a guilty expression playing across my face, and in this moment I feel like a small child caught playing on the furniture and about to be scolded. There is now one distinct blur occupying the room with me, it's a tall lithe figure… a woman? A woman, I decide, because the blur has long light-colored and loose hair, as well as light blue robes on.

"I wanted a better vantage point," I say a little defiantly.

I watch as the womanly blur nods, and my thoughts are confirmed when I hear her voice, "Yes, but I mean what are you doing, here?"

Curiously, I feel like I've heard this woman's voice before – but she is not one of the four figures that I usually meet when I come here. Another oddity is that her presence is also comforting and familiar, quite unlike the others that I've met.

Deciding to see how much I can find out about the situation, I shrug my shoulders, "Didn't you bring me here like the four of you usually do?"

The woman releases a small humming noise, it sounds distinctively disapproving and somewhat curious. I decide to use the unexpected situation to my advantage.

"Excuse me, mam'?" I ask wanting to be polite to the new figure.


"Is there any way that I can see you properly?"

She laughs, "Yes… and no…" then she pauses and asks cautiously, "How is it… being in the magical world again?"

I frown, is this lady mistaking me with someone else? I've never been in the magical world before… have I?

Confusion and other strange emotions whirl within my body and a distinct sense of nostalgia rises in my body as I stare at the blur. The longer that I talk with the woman, no young lady, the more I get the feeling that we've met before, but how is that possible?

I decide to answer her truthfully, and trust my newfound feelings, "I hate being powerless. It makes me feel incompetent and useless. Both feelings that I promised myself that I'd never feel again, after the loss of my parents."

The woman shifts her body uncomfortably – which surprises me, how can I tell that a blur is uncomfortable without seeing their face?

She whispers in a voice so quiet that I have to lean in to hear, "You won't always be powerless. You have more allies than you think."

My mouth gapes open – this one young lady has alleviated a fear that has been haunting me for weeks.

A flood of questions escapes me, "You mean I'll get my power back? When!? How?"

She winces, "I'm sorry. I can't say anymore today."

"Please! You're the only one that's told me anything useful."

She sighs, "I'm sorry, El-Heather."

The young woman steps closer to me, and due to our close proximity I'm able to catch a glimpse of straw blonde wavy hair and a distinct golden bird pendent around her neck.

"I'll call for you again – and I'll be more prepared for your appearance. I'm sorry I didn't stop… I mean know that you…."

The young woman's voice is filled with a horrible guilt and longing – and I'm filled with the urge to take her into my arms and comfort her, reassure her that everything is forgiven.

Before I can say anything though, she blurts out, "I'm sorry," and vanishes.

As I gaze around, confused by her sudden retreat, I notice that the entire room suddenly seems blurrier than before and the lights are flickering oddly. It's apparent that my time here is up.

"Heather. Heather!" A shrill voice is calling my name and shaking my shoulder harshly, "Wake up!"

I carefully blink my eyes open, flinching when Daphne's face comes into view inches from my own. I sit up slowly, looking at Daphne curiously because she's wearing an interesting expression, one torn between worry and her normal princess mask.

"What's wrong?" I ask her with a distant and dreamy voice.

Her eyes turn serious as she says, "You were having a nightmare and I've been trying to wake you up for the past fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes? That's kind of crazy – obviously that place isn't normal. But it's so nice there… and that girl… she was so familiar. I want to talk to her more.

"I see," I say as I stretch out my arms in familiar motions, trying to shake the drowsiness from my body and the fog from my brain.

"I see!? That's all you have to say? You were crying out in what seemed like terror – yet you had the happiest smile on your face. It was EXTREMELY creepy."

I face her calmly, letting my arms fall down to my side, "I'm sorry. I can't even remember what the nightmare was about."

Daphne frowns, seemingly not believing my lie, "You should talk to Professor Snape about getting some Sleeping Drought. You are one of his favorite students – he's sure to oblige you."

Her statement causes an easy smile to slide onto my face, "You're right! I'll try asking him."

That's a lie of course… the blonde girl from my dream basically promised to provide me with more information! There's no way that I can pass up the chance to learn more about that place, and those intimidating figures… Not when they seem to be the ones that placed me in the world of Harry Potter!

Daphne smiles at the fake cheer in my voice, "Great! You really need to get ready… it's already eight thirty."

"WHAT!" I scream, jumping out of bed and hurriedly scrambling around the room – throwing off my pajamas and putting on my school robes. Afterwards, I run to the bathroom in order to finish getting ready for the day. When I'm finished I make a mad dash out of the Slytherin common room and towards the dining hall – a few indignant ghosts calling after me to 'Slow down' and 'Walk!' while muttering on about young people.

Crap! Harry's going to be so mad at me – I missed our morning training! That's never happened before.

I step through the open doors into the hall and warily look towards the Gryffindor table – Harry hasn't noticed my entrance, instead he seems to be in a jubilant conversation with Ron and Seamus. I pause, considering my options – I can face the music now or avoid the conversation, probably making Harry angrier. The adult part of me wants to get this done and over with, while the childlike part wants to avoid the confrontation.

Oh, just go!

I slowly make my way towards the Gryffindor table, passing between it and the Hufflepuff one in order to reach Harry. As I pass, I meet eyes with a third year Hufflepuff girl who has dark black hair and a lot of makeup on – she smirks at me, obviously thinking about doing something cruel, which pulls a memory to the forefront of my mind.

I was walking down an uncrowded corridor, heading towards the library, when I pass a gaggle of older girls. They must have spotted me earlier which I hadn't noticed because my nose was buried in a book. I had been absorbed in it because of its particularly interesting views on magical enhancement rituals. Something I have been researching ever since the Midnight Dueling incident.

I only look up when a horribly familiar voice calls out, "Look girls! It's Harry Potter's loser sister – the nobody!"

The other girls, a couple of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, laugh at the insult, while crowding forward in effort to press me against the stone wall.

The speaker, the black haired girl, continues, "I can't believe Dumbledore made such an obvious mistake – this girl is definitely a squib! I heard she can't even cast, "Lumos", yet."

A second-year Gryffindor, Katie Bell, exclaims, "Are you kidding me? But her brother is SOO talented! He even helped me with my Transfiguration assignment last week!"

I push the memory down and tear my eyes away from the Hufflepuff in question – Emily Williams. I steadily continue down the small aisle with my eyes firmly fixed on Harry and his friends. They are positioned close to the head table and there are so many witnesses, I doubt Emily will try anything now.

I stop cautiously when I reach them, and Ron is the first one to notice my presence so he nudges Harry's side with his elbow, "Oye – Harry! It's your sister."

Harry looks up at me and all of the boys stop talking, following his lead, "Heather – I missed you this morning."

One of my eyebrows raise, he doesn't sound mad at all, "I'm sorry! I overslept because I had this crazy nightmare last night."

"Oh… what about?" he asks in a concerned voice.

I laugh in an embarrassed manner, "I actually… can't remember."

He frowns at me, yet another person catching my lies this morning, "Hey guys, I'm going to talk to my sister a bit. I'll catch you in first period."


Seamus laughs, "No problem, Harry. See you later!"

Harry smoothly removes himself from the table and makes his way towards the entrance, undoubtedly expecting me to follow, but before I do I grab a muffin off of the Gryffindor table and start eating it.

After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!

I quickly jog to catch up to him, mentally preparing myself for the rain of questions that are likely to fall.

I'm not ready to tell him that I know the future… Even if I tell him that I'm a seer, somebody else could easily find out and try to uncover what I know – And I'm not strong enough to ward off mental invasions.

Harry leads me into an empty classroom on the first floor, startled I recognize a room that I played in as Elisa, but I'm positive that it isn't in use anymore. A sigh of relief escapes me, I'm glad that Harry understands my need for privacy, particularly if he wants to bombard me with questions.

But is there anything that I CAN tell him? I should start to let him in a little more… It might even mend our relationship which has grown more distant since we've been at Hogwarts.

"Heather… I want to know what's been going on with you lately? You haven't been acting like yourself…"

What's a good truthful reason that I can give for my behavior?

"and you've been so distant."

As Harry lectures me – a memory plays along the edges of my mind.

Emily Williams and her crew shove me into the girl's bathroom.

Katie laughs, "How is this girl even related to Harry?"

Another Hufflepuff, Clarissa, replies, "Honestly – I think she was adopted. The Potters did pity squibs, muggles and muggleborns after all."

Emily nods, "Definitely adopted! She's too weak to be a part of that family."

Katie grins cruelly, "Either that or her mother cheated on her father and this abomination is the result."

Emily and Clarissa laugh, while I glare furiously at them, how dare they insult Lily! She would never have cheated on James – they were obviously very in love.

Emily pretends to gasp in shock, "And her eyes, I mean look at them – they're so creepy! Nothing like Harry's gorgeous green. They can't be related!"

I was in the same womb as him, you bitch, of course we are related!

Emily decided to emphasize 'gorgeous green' with two shoves to my shoulders, which smacked my back against a cubicle door. I wince at the force, a part of me dying to teach these girls a lesson – to throw them onto the floor… kick…. punch …. PUNISH them. How dare they insult my family – especially Lily! I won't stand for it!

Harry continues, "I just want you to know that I'm here for you…."

A different memory surfaces.

Lavender Brown complains in the Gryffindor-Slytherin Potion's class, "But, Professor… I don't want to work with Heather. She'll do all the work and I won't learn."

Parvati Patil and Eloise Midgen, also Gryffindors, cover their snickers with their hands. I ignore them – not particularly bothered that the simple-minded girl doesn't want to work with me. After all, she's right, I will end up doing all the work.

I can't help but wonder if this is how Hermione was treated in canon. I look over to the girl in question who is casually chatting with Dean Thomas as they take turns cutting their potion ingredients. If anything I'm glad that I've taken this role from her – no child should have to undergo bullying in any form.

I sigh, before saying, "It's fine, Professor. I can just work by myself or with Theo and Goyle."

I don't mention that this will be the third week that Professor Snape's 'assigned' partner has declined the opportunity to work with me. It's like he's trying to show me just how much the Gryffindors don't like me – by assigning me a Gryffindor partner each week, and watching as they come up with excuses to not work with me – he is building an even larger gap between Harry, his friends, and myself.

"And you can tell me anything. You're my sister…"

Emily lays before me, unconscious with tiny cuts and bruises littering her body, my own body is heaving with the effort that two tiny 'Obliviate's' cost me.

I shake my head rapidly, not wanting to recall that particular memory right now, so I interrupt Harry, "I'm sorry, Harry! It's just… It's been so hard being separated from you, and you know how hard classes are for me!"

Harry steps forward and engulfs me into a hug, "I know, Heather – but I've also seen how hard you've been working to overcome your… magic issues."

I sniffle a little bit as tears slide down my cheeks, the sense of relief I feel being in my twin's arms is astounding, "I have to do all that extra work to make up for failing my magic practicals! I can't let you move onto second year without me."

Harry chuckles before cautiously continuing, "But Heather… is that all? I mean you've not only been distant from me… but from everyone. Hermione is really worried about you."

At the sound of her name, my only real female friend at Hogwarts, I snuffle out, "I miss her too… but she's better off without me."

Harry frowns and asks adamantly, "What are you talking about!? Of course she's not!"

I guess the only thing to do is tell him some of my truth.

I whisper, "I don't want them to bully her too…. she shouldn't have to deal with that, especially since she's MY friend."

Harry glares down at me sternly and his green eyes nearly overwhelm me with their intensity. "Heather – what are you talking about? You are great at Taekwondo even if you can't do magic! There's no way somebody is bullying you."

I shrug and look at the floor glumly, "Physical strength doesn't really help when you are ganged up on… by people that have magic too."

Harry nearly growls in rage, "Who is it? Who has been picking on my little sister, my twin!? I promise you – I'll hurt them."

I turn to look at another girl, Katie, who's slumped against the bathroom wall also unconscious. Blood is oozing out of the multitude of cuts that line her arms and she has a rather spectacular black eye forming. I wince at the blood that's flowing down the drain and hurriedly use a long shower hose to rinse it away.

Internally, I'm panicking – I couldn't control it, the absolute rage that had risen from within and demanded that I punish them, set them straight – show them who the actual weak ones are.

The guilt from that day washes over me, while deep within me something curls in pleasure, "Oh.. Harry you can't hurt them!"

Because I already did…

So Heather accidentally lost her temper on some girls - does anyone think that there's going to be some serious repercussions? Heather couldn't stand the girls insulting Lily; both her and Harry are super protective over their friends and family and her mother is dead.

Please R&R! If you do I'm offering a 500 word excerpt from the next chapter (if you want it) as thanks! I'll send the sneak peak a couple of days before posting the next chapter.

*Chapter 24*: NOT A CHAPTER - Hiatus Continued



Sorry everyone for the long dry-period without updates. I promise that I haven't forgotten about this story and will get around to finishing it eventually. However I'm starting my last semester of undergraduate classes and will be taking the MCAT as well. So, updating this story is the last thing on my mind.

Love you all!