Eliza was roused from her sleepy daze by a banging at her cupboard door, her aunt Petunia's screeching waking her up faster than any alarm clock. Not that she had an alarm clock, not that she had much of anything actually. Aunt Petunia had told her that freaks like her already had more than they deserved just by living. Eliza had learnt not to argue with that even if she didn't agree with it.
She had learnt a lot of things in her time at the Dursley's even if she was only 6. She had learned how to cook and clean and that she shouldn't ask questions and that Freaks like her weren't worth anything. She had learnt her name, Eliza (she had never learnt her last one although she had taken to calling herself Astra from the Latin 'stars' as she was terribly fond of them) and that her real parents were good for nothing drunks who had left her in the hell that was number four Privet Drive. And even though she didn't agree when the Dursley's called her a freak she did know one thing. She was different. And after stumbling upon a collection of old books Dudley had thrown away one day, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, she had dubbed what she could do as magic.
She was magic.
So she didn't let whatever the Dursley's said get to her, she was better than them. Different. And so they couldn't do anything to effect her. No more than they already had.
It seemed today that would change.
She was pulled out of her cupboard, as it was a cupboard and she refused to call it a room, by Aunt Petunia. But instead of being shoved into the kitchen she was pushed out of the front door where Uncle Vernon was waiting, moustache twitching dangerously.
"Get in the car Girl" he commanded gruffly, furtively looking around to see if any of their neighbours were spying on them. That was one of the things the Dursley's couldn't stand, being seen less than normal, and Eliza, in all her freakishness, was the very antithesis of what they strove for.
Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind him as he settled into the car, the blue vehicle wobbling dangerously as it got used to her Uncle's weight. Eliza slipped in quietly behind him noting that her aunt and cousin weren't coming with them but knew better than to ask any questions. That was rule number one, not asking questions.
When her Uncle dropped her off in London she wished she had asked questions after all but found she didn't need to when her Uncle spoke
"We're getting rid of your freakishness girl, once and for all. You won't come back to us if you know what's good for you" he said menacingly. He chortled, seemingly incredibly pleased with himself, before suddenly driving away leaving Eliza on the doorsteps of her new home.
The Orphanage.
The years that passed after that were some of the hardest of Eliza's life, she had given her name over to the matron and in return was given second hand rags, a shared dorm with five other girls and meagre portions of food. She was used to the uncomfortable gnawing feeling of hunger thanks to the Dursley's but she was not used to fighting for whatever scraps she could get. Every day was a battle, a battle for safety, for food, for the best chance to get adopted and to be free of Eliza's new hell. Every Sunday she was forced to go to church and she was bruised and beaten and kicked by the other children who did not like the strange young black haired girl with the glowing green eyes and the lighting shaped scar that ran down the right side of her face. They thought she was a freak.
And then she used her freakishness against them and they had had a lot more reasons to hate her.
But then they were too scared to act.
Fear was a powerful motivator Eliza had found. A few broken bones, mysterious accidents, one boy had even been hit by a car as he walked into the road. A tragic accident. They were all still alive of course, but all now a bit different. Warier, too wary for it to just be coincidence. But Eliza was happy, she now had her own room and always had a seat at the table for whatever meagre food there was and she was now no one's victim.
She had never been adopted however. She had tried every trick in the book. The angelic smile, modest and shy, happy and intelligent. But it was like every adult could sense something was off about her. Privately Eliza suspected the matron warned them of her before they came in. The matron never liked her and usually preferred to keep her in a corner, arms stretched straight out with heavy bibles balanced on them till she collapsed.
But that was only when she got caught.
Eliza never got caught anymore.
So Eliza grew up in an orphanage. She grew up in second hand clothes, in a crumbling room surrounded by children who hated her. She grew up knowing only her name and her birthday and the knowledge that in this world, this whole giant enormous world, she was well and truly on her own. Although all of this by rights should have made Eliza quite sad she instead acknowledged that one day it would simply make her better. After all it would be quite hard for things to get worse for her. Eliza, for a girl not even 11 yet, was very confident of her place in the world.
A letter arrived and changed it all.
Today had the feeling of a distinctly unusual day Eliza thought as she walked down the creaking stairs of the orphanage on the way to breakfast. She had been woken up by an owl hooting by her window, the matron hadn't even badgered her into making breakfast and she was now a whole year older. Being 11 didn't feel any different than being 10 did and so she didn't factor that into what made today so unusual.
No that dubious honour went to the letter she was handed as she took a seat in the mess hall. It was very rare that any of the children got mail least of all any like this. Eliza studied the letter curiously running a hand over the intricate wax seal before flipping it over.
Eliza L. Potter
Second bedroom on the third floor
Groves Residential home
It had almost everything right (although no-one called Groves a residential home, it was an orphanage and always would be no matter what fancy name they slapped on it)
The last name was new. Potter. The Dursely's never told her her last name, she wasn't sure she wanted a last name that belonged to washed up drunks like her parents. Other than that the letter information was uncomfortably correct.
Opening it up with no small amount of deliberation Eliza started reading the letters that fell out of the envelope.
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment's. Term begins September 1st and we await your owl no later than July 31st
Yours sincerely.
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Eliza stared at the letter for a bit and then she stared at it a bit longer until she could make sense of it.
Making sense of it was turning out to be a very hard thing to do.
Hogwarts? Supplies? They awaited her owl? What did any of that even mean? Eliza wanted to believe it was a hoax, it would by far be the simplest explanation but some part of her couldn't deny that she believed in magic. What else could her powers be? Why else was she better than all the other orphans?
So she decided to do the most logical thing and reply, she would go up to her room and write a letter first and then worry about an owl later. One step at a time.
Dear Deputy Headmistress,
First and foremost if you are reading this than I assume I must have located an owl to send to you even without any instructions which might I say was a faux par on your end, as was only delivering my letter on July 31st when you expect a reply straight away, I can only hope this letter reaches you in time.
I would greatly appreciate attending your school Deputy Headmistress if it is indeed real and not a rather imaginative joke but I hope you can address a few pressing issues of mine before we proceed.
First of all, you have not told me where Hogwarts is nor how to get to it which would make it impossible to attend even if I was not dubiously doubting its very existence. Secondly I have not a cent to my name and would not be able to buy any of the supplies mentioned never mind be able to find them in the first place, you wouldn't happen to know where to get a magic wand in London would you? And also on the subject of my name, I have never actually known my last one and so I have no means of knowing if this was ever actually meant for me or not.
If you could explain these things to me or even better send someone to help and preferably somebody competent I would greatly appreciate it
Eagerly awaiting your reply,
Eliza Potter (?)
Eliza nodded to herself satisfied with her letter. She had tried to make her handwriting neat and to sound as intelligent as possible, first impressions were important regardless of if she spent half the letter insulting their competency.
She coaxed the owl from this morning to her window using the last of her supply of breakfast bars to do so before attaching her letter to its proffered leg with a piece of yarn. She closed her window and watched as it flew away far into the distance.
This had by far been the most unusual day of her life. It seemed Eliza's life would be taking a drastic turn towards the strange and unusual.
The next day found Eliza in her room primly sat on her bed across from her visitor who had grumpily introduced himself as one of her soon to be professors, Professor Snape. Eliza thought the man was quite odd but then again what may be odd for her standards may be completely normal for wizarding ones. It irked her how much she did not know about this world.
The man had black lank oily hair that hung to his shoulders and his face seemed to be set in a permanent expression of distaste, a cross between a sneer and a grimace and he looked like he'd rather be anywhere but sitting across from her. But beneath the veneer of distaste Eliza knew something about this scene, something about her had unsettled him greatly. She could use that.
"Are you here to tell me magic is real?" she questioned breaking the silence.
"Yes magic is real girl, why else would I be here?" he snapped looking anywhere but her eyes.
"I knew it" Eliza spoke pleased "I knew there was something different about me. When I need things they float towards me and once I swear a very strong gust of wind carried me to the roof and-
Eliza cut off her happy ramblings there but upon the professor's raised questioning eyebrow she carried on more subdued.
"When the other kids are mean to me, sometimes bad things happen to them"
The silence settled heavily around them and Eliza was thinking she had taken it a bit too far when the professor spoke again.
"So miss Potter-
She cut him off before he could finish his sullen drawl.
"Is that my last name then Sir?" she questioned playing up the guileless brazen act the professor was expecting. Nobody liked intelligent children, they were less likely to reveal secrets to them.
"Of course it's your last name"
Eliza could tell just how much he wanted to insult her, she had to admit she admired his restraint.
"I never knew it was my last name, you see my parents are dead-end drunks according to, well, everyone and so I never knew" Eliza explained widening her eyes. Professor Snape's face had twisted into an angry expression.
"Your parents weren't drunks you foolish girl" he snapped before exhaling sharply.
"I'm going to explain what you need to know and you are not going to interrupt" he demanded harshly and Eliza nodded earnestly in reply not even having to fake the eager glint in her eyes.
"Your parents were called James and Lily Potter, eleven years ago the wizarding world was at the height of a civil war waged by the Dark Lord. On Samhain night the Dark Lord found your parents and killed them before reaching you" he paused, as if he were recalling something very painful for a moment before pulling himself together "No one knows what happened for sure but the Dark Lord attempted to kill you and somehow the curse rebounded and you defeated him. The Dark Lord was vanquished and all you had was a scar" Snape finished disdainfully "the girl who lived"
It was amazing how much venom he put into the title. The scar he was talking about was the long one that lay on the right side of her face, it was no longer as raised and angry as it had once been, now only silver scar tissue remained, branching out like a lightning bolt stretching from her forehead, barely missing her eye and ending near her lips.
"Oh" she found herself saying not being able to think of anything else to describe her situation.
It felt like her whole world had been changed and yet everything was still the same. She had grown up without the notion of parents after all, whether they be dead heroes or absent drunks they were still not in her life. They had chosen to die like martyrs instead of living like heroes and had left her behind. Now she just had names to help her nurture the bitterness inside of her. But then again she now had something different, power. Her celebrity status evidently carried some weight in this new world, a status that she hadn't had to carve out for herself.
The professor went on to explain how the school worked, the houses and lessons and where she could find the train to take her to the school. Upon her insistence the surly professor explained Diagon Alley to her and the vaults she would have in her name.
He stood up, still looking distinctly misplaced in her muggle (what non-magical people were apparently referred to as) room. He gestured at her to follow him as he speedily exited the orphanage.
"Now I must take you to get your supplies" he commanded muttering curses about someone named Minerva and a damned meddling cat.
"That's okay professor" Eliza exclaimed cheerfully "I really wouldn't want to take up much more of your time and you truly have explained everything quite well. Diagon Alley's only a 15 minute walk from here, I can get my own supplies" she said imploringly rocking back and forth on her heels. He looked at her considering for a few moments and Eliza knew she had won when he nodded to himself.
"I really am too busy to be escorting a child around Diagon Alley" he murmured before stepping back. He inclined his head towards her in a grudging goodbye before spinning on his heel and disappearing entirely.
Magic truly was brilliant.
Even better, she now had no supervision.
Diagon Alley was a wondrous sight. It was bright and colourful and she was drawn in ten separate directions all at once. Oh brave new world, a world full of magic, and a world that was now hers.
Remembering the professor's instructions she headed down the main street towards the grand white marble building that had to be the bank, ignoring the wondrous sights that were beckoning her.
The goblins were small vicious looking things Eliza thought as she entered the bank. They had a shrewd disdainful look about them although if she had to deal with ill-mannered wizards all day she was sure she would look the same. The wizards she had overheard so far demanded rather than asked and one large oaf was even escorted through the bank booming about 'secret Hogwarts business'
Shaking her head she walked to the nearest empty teller and peered up at the goblin.
"I would like to access my vaults please" Eliza spoke plastering a polite smile onto her face, she doubted the goblins cared for pleasantries but it never hurt to try.
"Vault key" the goblin requested not even looking up from the papers on his desk. Eliza felt her polite smile freeze.
"Well you see I don't have a vault key, I was never given one"
"No key, no vault" the goblin said sharply seemingly taking pleasure in Eliza's struggle, Eliza knew she would be too if she were in the goblins place. Alas she wasn't.
"If I could prove my identity would you allow me access" Eliza requested hoping it would work. The Goblin looked up then, studying her.
"A blood inheritance test would be sufficient" he spoke
"And how much would that be?" Eliza questioned warily, the goblin bared its teeth in what Eliza thought was a grin.
"3 galleons will be taken from your vault, if you have one"
Eliza nodded in acceptance and followed behind the goblin as it led them through the bank, the white marble halls took many twisting turns and Eliza knew without him she would be hopelessly lost. The goblin brought her into an office, another surly looking goblin sat behind it and gestures for her to sit down. Eliza peered at the name plate as the other goblin left her alone.
"I'm here for a blood inheritance test Griphook" Eliza said clearly meeting the goblins beetle black eyes. He smiled nastily (or maybe all their smiles looked like that?) and pushed a blank sheet of parchment and a ceremonial dagger across the table. Eliza eyed the dagger warily gingerly picking it up
"Three drops of blood on the parchment" Griphook said from across the table, eyeing her eagerly.
Eliza made a sharp nick on the pad of her middle finger and squeezed three drops of blood onto the parchment wiping the surplus blood off the dagger. She had read enough fantasy books to know blood magic was dangerous. Griphook gave her an appraising glance before they both turned their attention back to the glowing parchment in front of them. Soon the glow bean to subside and thin spidery writing took its place
Eliza Lily Potter
Parents:
James Fleamont Potter (deceased)
Lily Evans nee Potter (deceased)
Godparents:
Sirius Black (imprisoned)
Alice Longbottom (incapactitated)
Magical guardian: Albus Dumbledore
Heirships:
Potter
Black
Lordships (Eligible to claim upon majority)
Potter
Black
Vaults:
Potter trust fund
Potter vault (available upon majority)
Black vault (Available upon majority)
Eliza stared at the parchment as it painted out a rather depressing family history. It seemed even in this new world one thing had remained constant. She was well and truly alone.
She understood most of what the test had told her, wizards obviously ran by a different government and she knew she'd have to bury herself in politics and history books to stand a chance of fully understanding what power she had claim too but she knew enough. One thing was throwing her off however
"Magical guardian? What's a magical guardian?" she questioned the goblin in front of her refraining from also asking why hers, the bloody headmaster of her new school, had abandoned her to the Dursley's. Griphook narrowed his eyes in apparent confusion
"In the event a magical child is left without guardians the magical guardian will step in. It is their duty to make sure the child is educated and safe, it is most odd that he did not do this for you" Griphook explained and Eliza couldn't contain the flash of anger that ran through her, catching the fury in her eyes Griphook spoke again.
"Albus Dumbledore is a political power-house as well as a magical one, he is not a man you would want to pick a battle with Miss Potter, many have tried" the goblin confided. Eliza nodded her head in acknowledgment but inside she was still seething. This man had ruined her, ruined her before she even had a chance to begin. Eliza knew no matter what she would return the favour.
She and Griphook went through her heirships and accounts, 11 years they had been frozen and Eliza felt like she would be here for 11 more before she could sort everything out.
"Look if I give you my permission can you not just invest my money for me?" Eliza finally broke, she had a never ending list of things to do today and she had already been here for far longer than she expected. The goblins eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Not many wizards would trust us with their gold" he commented vexed and mocking at the same time.
"Well you're in charge of running the bank, not wizards, I can only assume that you're a lot better at it"
Griphook bared his teeth in response and Eliza knew that this time it was a fierce grin. She left the bank mere minutes later with two shiny heirship rings on her hand and a pocket full of jangling galleons feeling lighter than she had in years.
Eliza's first stop were the clothes stores, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her muggle rags amongst the crowd of witches and wizards. Some part of her felt guilty as she burnt through the money on books and clothing and school supplies but if her parents hadn't gotten themselves killed she wouldn't be in this position in the first place and so she banished her niggling guilt and bought another set of fashionable clothes and raided Flourish and Blotts for all it was worth.
She had much to learn before September 1st after all.
She was going to show Albus Dumbledore just how much of a mistake he had made.
~
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office with an unusually stern expression on his face as he stared across the table at Severus Snape.
He had just been finishing the clever little charms on Eliza Potter's letters when Severus had come crashing into his office with a sneer on his face.
"Eliza Potter" he snarled as he paced back and forth like a caged animal. Albus could only blink in confusion, Eliza hadn't sent any reply to Hogwarts, Albus was just in the process of sending another batch of letters. She didn't even know of the wizarding world yet and he had no idea what she could have done to warrant such a reaction.
"You told me she was safe Albus and instead I go and find her with no knowledge of what she is, of who she is, in a filthy muggle orphanage!" Severus exploded angrily, face twisted with rage.
Albus reeled back as if he had been punched, feeling the air leave him. Little Eliza Potter? In-
"In an orphanage?" Albus questioned horror coating his face.
Severus sighed tiredly and slumped into the chair across from him nodding his head reluctantly. The silence sat for a few seconds before Albus broke it.
"May I see the memory my boy?" Albus said politely, smiling genially. Severus eyed him distrustfully for a few moments before he harshly nodded his head in agreement.
Albus looked into his eyes briefly and then he was pulled harshly into the memory of Severus' first meeting with the girl. He couldn't have been in the memory for mere minutes before he reeled back pale and shaken.
Because there, in the tilt of her head, in her probing tone and plastic smile, in the gleaming vindication of her eyes when she learnt of magic, Albus couldn't help but see small fractures of a boy called Tom Riddle.