Chapter One Meeting the Goddess

When Harry James Potter woke up that beautiful August morning, he had absolutely no idea that it would be the one day that would change his life forever.

The Boy Who Lived opened his eyes and sat up sharply as he heard the final syllable of 'Avada Kadavra', the hideous laughter of his arch-enemy Lord Voldemort, and a green light flashed in his subconcious as a flash of pain ran across the lightning bolt scar of his forehead. He lay back down slowly, the dream fading quickly from his memory. He closed his eyes briefly and caught his breath.

When the pain in his forehead had gone and the sick feeling in his stomach had eased, he sat up again and slowly looked around the bedroom that he shared with his best friend, Ronald Weasley. They were not at the Burrow, as Harry had hoped he would be going to this summer after his annual torturous stay at his only living relative's house, but at Grimmauld Place - Sirius' old house. Harry, of course, felt guilty and sad about being there. After all, he had as good as killed him, hadn't he?

His security this summer had tripled and after only one month of being at his Aunt and Uncle's, which he had spent locked in his bedroom, the entourage had come for him in the dead of night and they had flown to Grimmauld Place. Of course, the Weasley's - excluding Percy who was still not talking to his family - and Hermione Granger had already been there and had been for about a week. But this time, Harry hadn't minded it so much - the inability for the three of them to communicate all summer, the lack of sufficient information from either them or the Order of the Phoenix about everything that was happening, and his overall lack of knowledge of anything pertaining to the Order. He knew why now.

The only thing that did bother him, and it bothered him a great deal, was all of the suspicious Muggle deaths and murders. There were so many of them now as Voldemort was not even trying to hide that he was back anymore.

After all, he thought bitterly, what was the point? The whole Ministry of Magic had seen him and the Minister of Magic - the incompetent Cornelius Fudge - had informed all of the neccesary people. Everyone knew that he was back - except maybe for the wizarding world in the states, in which some people had never heard of him - even during the first war. And the deaths of Muggles and wizards wasn't happening merely in the British Isles, but all of Western Europe. And when he had come here, he had immediately been informed by Ron and Hermione that there were some happening 'Across the Pond' - as Ron put it - in the States. He looked at Ron's bed to find that the lanky redhead was still asleep. He climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. Then he left the room quietly and started down the stairs.

He was very careful not to make a single sound in the entrance hallway for fear of waking up Mrs. Black and havng to hear her scream about how glad she was that Sirius was dead. He went down to the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley and Remus Lupin there. Lupin was sitting at the table with a cup of hot tea clasped in his hands, looking tired with his pale complexion and shabby robes. Mrs. Weasley stood at the stove, cooking something that smelled absolutely delicious - par usual. They both looked up as he shut the door with a soft 'click' behind him.

"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Sit down at the table, dear, and I'll get you a spot of breakfast."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley." Harry said, sitting across from Lupin. "Good morning, Lupin."

"Good morning, Harry. My, you're up early for a summer day."

Harry simply shrugged. By now, he couldn't remember what had woken him up. set a plate down in front of him and gave him a motherly pat on his head. He smiled at her in thanks and was just about to start on his flapjacks when the front door above them crashed open and Mrs. Black began screaming.

"Molly! Remus!" Harry heard Professor Albus Dumbledore - Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry - call to them.

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Weasley said and both she and Lupin hurried for the door. Harry, feeling an overwhelming sense of curiosity, followed them and they did not tell him that he couldn't.

When they reached the entrance hallway, he saw Dumbledore standing in the middle of it with a stratcher floating next to his head. Even at Harry's height of 5'11", he couldn't see what was in the stretcher, save for a small corner of black pinstripe fabric and an extremely long tendril of rusty auburn hair that hung from it's side. Lupin and Mrs. Weasley rushed to close Mrs. Black's curtains as Dumbledore nodded to both them and Harry before he started up the stairs. Harry had an urge to follow him in order to find out who - or what - was in that stretcher, but he decided against it. If he was patient enough, he would find out sooner or later.

He went back down into the kitchen and was shortly joined by Ron, Hermione, and Ron's little sister, Ginny.

Harry didn't say a word to them about what had taken place that morning and the day went on much as it usually did. Mrs. Weasley's delicious flapjack breakfast, followed by a few hours of Exploding Snap, chess, or Gobstones and, at Hermione's persistance, homework, This was always followed by lunch in the kitchen, courtesy again of Mrs. Weasley, which that day had been and assortment of meat pies and pumpkin juice. Then had finished the extremely dangerous cleaning of the library. Hermione had oohed and ahed over the extrememly large assortment of books until one that she had found particularly intriguing tried to bite her fingers off. After that had been a lovely turkey dinner, which was followed by more free time which consisted of Hermione doing homework, and he and Ron playing chess, while Ginny had kept saying that she would play the winner, which was, of course, Ron, who, of course, beat her as after Harry and Ginny had gotten extremely tired of being beaten, and Ron had gotten a bit bored, they extracted Hermione from her homework and went off to bed exhausted.

The only thing different was the not-so-simple fact that Harry couldn't seem to get that long tendril of lusterous hair out of his mind. He didn't know why, there was nothing remotely weird about it. Nothing at all. It was just that it was so shiny and looked so soft, plus the fact that it was such a beautiful and unusual color and it was SO long!

He lay awake that night, unable to sleep for thinking about how much he wanted to run his fingers through that lock of hair. Wondering if it was as soft as he thought it was, what it smelled like. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear or see the door open or the dark shadow creeping into his room until someone sat on the edge of his bed by his torso and jiggled his shoulder gently.

"Harry," He heard Hermione's voice whisper as he was jolted from his thoughts. "Are you awake, Harry?" He sat up slowly.

"Yes." He said.

"Do you know who Dumbledore brought in this morning?" She asked, her voice hardly above an excited whisper.

"No." He said. "How did you know about it?"

"I was just slipping out of mine and Ginny's room this morning when Professor Dumbledore came down the hallway with that stretcher. I couldn't see into it because he had it up so high. Could you?"

"No, it was too high up for me too. Too bad Ron wasn't awake, though. He could've seen whoever it was real clearly."

"Whas'sat?" A still half-asleep Ron said as he heard his name.

"Ron, wake up and come over here."

"Hermione?" Ron asked incredulously, jolting awake in an instant. "Is that you?"

"Of course it's me, Ron, who'd you think it would be?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Well, not you." Ron said akwardly.

"Oh? So you don't want me here, is that it?"

"NO! Uh - no. It's just that- It's not a bad thing that you're here, Hermione. Not at all, it's just that-" He stopped.

"Just what, Ronald?" Hermione said.

"Just that - How come you are in here anyway? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"Not everyone can simply hit the pillow and be out like a light like you can Ron. And anyway, I'm here because I want you and Harry to come with me to see if we can find whoever - or whatever - Dumbledore brought here this morning."

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Hermione?" Ron asked. Hermione winced.

"Language, Ron. And I'm talking about the person or thing that Professor Dunbledore brought to the house this morning, the reason that Mrs. Black was screaming and why you're mum woke you up and told you to hurry downstairs to the kitchen. I want to find it and see what's wrong."

"Hermione! It's none of our business. If Dumbledore wanted us to know what it was, he would have told us - or shown us. But he didn't so why bother?"

"Ronald, if you don't want to come then fine, but Harry and I are going, right, Harry?" Harry was inclined to disagree with her but just as he opened his mouth to form the words, he saw the lock of hair flash across his vision again. He knew that he had to see it again. He didn't know why, he just knew that he had to.

"Right." He said. He pushed back his bedclothes as Hermione moved off the bed, and got up. "You coming, Ron?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah." He said grumpily, pushing off his tangle bedclothes too. "I'm coming. Just let me put on a shirt will ya?" He got up and Harry heard a quickly stiffled gasp from Hermione. Ron heard it too and they both turned to look at Hermione who was by the door, staring at Ron's bare torso. She quickly averted her gaze, and Harry could see her cheeks flaming even in the dark. He looked back at Ron, whose ears and neck were turning a lovely shade of magenta as well. Ron reached hurriedly for a shirt that was under his bed, threw it on quickly and stood. The two were decidedly not looking at each other, each turning redder by the second. Harry could have laughed, but didn't.

"Well, let's go then." He said instead and Hermione was quick to agree.

"Oh, yes, let's." She opened the door and stepped out into the hall nervously. The three moved down the hall, Ron and Hermione still not daring to look at each other, until they came to one of the unused bedrooms that had it's door closed. Ron tried the knob.

"Locked." He said, "I guess that this is the right room. Are we absolutely sure that we want to do this?" He asked, making one final plea for them to go back down the hall to their bedrooms and forget about whoever or whatever was behind that door.

"Yes." Harry said as Hermione pulled her wand from her dressing gown.

"All right then." Ron said, relenting.

Hermione mutterd "Alohomora" and the door clicked open. The three slipped inside and Ron closed the door behind them.

The room wasn't dark, as Harry had expected, but a few candles on the vanity were lit. A girl sat on the stool in front of the mirror, her back to them. From his persepective by the door, he couldn't see her face. Her hair was just as he had imagined it, flowing all the way to her waist in lusterous waves and curls. In the candlelight, it glowed like fire. She obviously had been brushing her hair when they had arrived because the brush was paused at the back of her head.

"Hi there." Hermione said tenitavely.

The brush resumed it's long path through the girl's hair and then was set down on the vanity next to a pile of bobby pins and a hair tie. Long tapered fingers with long, elegant, unpolished fingernails picked up the tie and drew all of that beautiful mane of fire into a ponytail, which was promptly twisted up into a bun and secured with the entire pile of bobby pins. Harry could now see the girl's bare back and shoulders. Her skin was a slightly tanned, cream color and the light made it glow as well. She wore a short turquiose nightgown that reached her mid-thigh.

Harry immediately hated the bun and silently cursed it for capturing all the beauty of that gorgeous hair that he had dreamed about the entire day. She stood and turned around to face them and Harry was immediately sorry for cursing anything about her. He nearly got down on his knees to beg her forgiveness for his unspoken words. Her face was the loveliest he had ever seen - lovelier than all of the veelas in the world put together - lovelier than Fleur Delacour.

He saw her chin first. It was a little round yet angular with an extremely slight dimple that could have easily been missed if it weren't for the shadows behing thrown by the flickering candles and the fact that he was studying it so closely.

Next were her lips. The bottom was full and a little pouty, the upper a little too short to be considered full - the perfect place between full and thin.

Next was her nose - not too long but not short by any means, barely turned up - perfect.

Then her cheekbones. Set high on her face they were elegant, exotic, and classic all at the same moment.

From there he passed over her eyes which had lingered to her right and were slightly downcast, to her eyebrows which here straight with a very slight arch that would be perfect for raising in curiosity or sarcasm.

Her forehead was high to complement her cheekbones.

Then he looked back down to her eyes and got the shock of his life. They were deep pools of dark forest green. The deepest jade rock had been liquefyed in order to form those eyes. He felt himself drowning and could not have wrenched his eyes away from them even if he had wanted to - which he didn't.

She was looking at them curiously, watching them with only slight interest.

"Hello." Hermione tried again. "I'm Hermione Granger. This is Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. What's your name?" The girl slightly arched one of her delicate eyebrows, lifting the corner of her right eye slightly. Harry thought he would melt into a puddle. How could Hermione be talking to this Goddess? Harry had lost his power of speech as soon as he had seen the first glimpse of her fiery mane of hair again and it obviously did not see itself fit to come back at any time soon.

This girl did not deserve mere words. Simple 'Hi's and Hello's were not sufficient grammar for beauty such as this. Songs, poems, sonnets, limmericks, any worshipful dialogue would be better, yet still not enough. He was not fit to stand on the ground she walked on. Not fit to be in this very room. It had to be some type of blasphemy, of that he was certain.

But oh how wonderous it felt to be in her prescence, how more wonderous still if he could hear her voice, her laugh. See her smile. It felt so wrong yet so exciting.

"What are you three doing in my room?" The Goddess asked. Harry felt his knees go weak. Her voice was soft, yet strong. Low and calm and dangerous. Dramatic. And she was American. He had always thought that American accents were the sexiest accents on earth, even more beautiful than French or Italian.

"We just wanted to see who you were and if you were all right." Hermione said, seemingly still the only one with the ability to talk. He didn't know what Ron was doing, he couldn't take his eyes off of the Queen in front of him.

"Well," The Goddess said. "Now that you've seen that I am all right, you'll kindly leave so that I can get some sleep. I'm very tired, you see." Every consonant - every vowel - was formed perfectly, carefully.

She was tired, they should leave. He turned to do just that when Hermione spoke a little indignantly.

"Well, that was quite a rude thing to say." Harry rounded on her. The Goddess had requested that they leave. They needed to leave. She wanted to sleep. They should let her sleep. Not only was Hermione not doing what the Goddess had asked, but she was now insulting her. Harry wouldn't stand for that. No one could insult the Goddess, it was surely forbidden. Hermione would surely be cursed for it.

The Goddess's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And it was also very rude to come barging into someone's room in the middle of the night - somewhat good intentions or no." Harry smiled with pride at the Goddess's words.

Very true. It was rude of them to do that - especially without even knocking and asking her permision to enter this sanctuary. They should leave, now.

"You weren't asleep. It can't have bothered you very much." Hermione said duelingly.

"I could have been. You didn't know that I wasn't when you unlocked the door, now did you? You couldn't have."

"But we had good intentions. We wanted to see if you were all right." Hermione said desperately, knowing that she was fighting a loosing battle.

The Goddess was right. Hermione was wrong. It was that simple. The Goddess would always be right. Would always have the answers. Simple facts. Wasn't Hermione supposed to be the one who got simple facts when no one else could?

"Oh stop trying to fool yourself." The Goddess said, her dramatic voice dangerously low now. "You were simply curious and wanted to know who I am and why I'm here. Am I right?" Hermione was at a loss for words. Finally, Harry thought.

He finally found his voice and spoke slowly, quietly, not sure if he really should be saying these stupid mere words to her at all. But at the moment, they were all he had. He would have to make up for them later. He stared at the floor as he spoke.

"I'm so very sorry." He said quietly. So quiet that if the room were not silent, he wouldn't have been able to hear himself over the pounding of his heart. "We had no right to barge in on you like this. It was terribly wrong of us. We'll be going now." He took Hermione's and Ron's arms and turned them physically towards the door. It was extremely hard for him to turn from her but he managed - barely.

Oh, how that wash of gold and fire that was her image had burned itself into his irises rendering him slightly blind for a moment. He let go of Ron's arm and took hold of the doorknob firmly and was about to turn it when he heard her beautiful voice behind him.

"Lava." She said.

Harry let go of the doorknob and turned back to her, as did his companions.

"My name is Lava."