Higher Ground

Summary: "I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love." – Marilyn Monroe. FemHarry.

Just a warning: FemHarry, AU (Canon up to End of OoP), No Horcruxes, Blood, Violence, Language, Messed Up Timeline, Minor Suggestive Adult Themes (What's a Crossover with True Blood without that?)

Chapter 4

Harry's eyes snapped open as Ern, the old driver of Knight Bus, slammed the brakes and the magical stopped abruptly in a deserted street not too far from desired destination.

She winced a little as her body was thrown forward, using her hands to stop herself from hitting the seats in front of her and ended breaking her nose.

Maybe she should have taken a taxi from the King Cross Station to the Leaky Cauldron. But then, no matter how traumatizing or painfully traveling with the Knight Bus could be, it was the fastest option she had – Especially if she wanted to get to Gringotts before the Order decided to turn Diagon Alley upside down while looking for her.

She scoffed, grabbing her trunk and Hedwig's empty cage.

Harry didn't think that she would ever understand some of the members of the Order. What more did they want from her that they still thought she needed their misplaced – and unwanted – attention? Voldemort was dead. The should have been disbanded the moment Dumbledore confirmed this.

"Thanks for the ride, Ern." Harry said as she walked past the old driver.

Turning around and taking off his goggles, he gave her one of his patented smiles and a thumbs up. Harry can't remember ever hearing Ern speak.

The raven haired witch jumped down the steps of the bus, turning around to thank Stan; the conductor of the Knight Bus.

"And remember: you didn't see me." She said to Stan, crossing her arms.

Harry knew very well how much the man liked to talk. He wasn't the best secret keeper around, only losing for Hagrid. At least Stan knew how to lie when needed, Hagrid couldn't even do that.

The man saluted her, "And if I did," He said excitedly, "We left you in the Muggle hairport."

"Airport." Harry corrected. "But yeah."

She didn't think that the Order would try to interrogate Stan, or even Ern for the matter. It wasn't like any of them knew that she had been using the Knight Bus constantly for the last few years. But the green eyed girl didn't want to take any chances.

"Well," She turned around, "Bye Stan."

"See you around, Lavender!" He waved at her, using the fake name she had given to him the first time she used the Knight Bus back in the summer of her Third Year.

Harry snorted.

Turning down the street, she made sure that her hoodie was hiding a good portion of her face while keeping her head high and walking calmly indirection of the small shabby-looking pup that only magicals could see.

If there was something that her so called fame in the Wizarding World taught her was that if she wanted to go unnoticed, then she couldn't act like she was trying to hide. That would only make people look at her; focusing their attention in an attempt of figuring her out or merely making them suspicious of her.

Add the way she was dressed as well the fact that she had long ago corrected her eyesight (Only keeping her glasses because the potion she used for that wasn't exactly legal and she didn't want to get in trouble or be pointed out as the Next Dark Lady) and no one would even think twice about her.

They would more likely think she was just one more Muggleborn witch.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

Stepping inside the Leaky Cauldron, Harry took a moment to scan her surroundings. On the corner, there was a small old witch drinking a bottle of Firewhiskey as she spoke to younger looking wizard who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. She also saw a bored looking wizard reading the newest edition of the Daily Prophet as well another wizard eating what looked to be a soup; it was difficult to say for certain.

There were others but she didn't really pay attention to them. Harry didn't recognize any of them so she decided to keep moving.

Tom the bartender looked up from the glass he was cleaning. He blinked and frowned thoughtful when he noticed her walking in direction of the entrance to Diagon Alley.

He stared at her with narrowed blue eyes, looking like someone who was trying to solve a puzzle.

Trying to not react, Harry nodded at him in greeting. Thankfully Tom stopped staring and he nodded back, turning his attention back to what he was doing.

For a moment, she had thought that he had recognized her. Harry really didn't want a repeat of what happened the first time she stepped into to the Leaky Cauldron.

Moving through the bar and out into the small, walled courtyard with nothing but a trash can and a few weeds, Harry took out her wand. Quickly, she started tapping her wand against the bricks above the trash can; three up and two across.

The green eyed witch have a step back as the last brick her wand touched quivered and wriggled, opening a small hole in the middle of the wall that grew wider and wider until an archway to the cobbled street of Diagon Alley opened before her eyes.

Walking down the twisted and long street, it didn't take long for Harry to reach the familiar snowy white building that towered over all the other little shops surround it. Two goblins wearing scarlet and golden uniforms stood in front if its burnished bronze doors; neither looked happy and while Harry was no specialist in Goblin behavior, she could tell that two were actually bored out of their minds. They would more likely anywhere but there.

She twitched when they stared at her instead of immediately stepping aside and pushing the doors open with mock bows like they always did.

Harry stared.

The guards stared back.

None of them relented and blinked, they merely stared. And as uncomfortable Harry was, with her heart beating painfully against her ribcage and eyes burning, she refused to lose.

Slowly, the Goblins gave her identical unnerving grins, their eyes glinting with dark satisfaction.

The witch swore, at that moment, that she could hear her blood hushing to her head, leaving her breathless and with a headache.

She didn't know if she laughed hysterically or cried desperately.

They know, a desperate part of her whispered. They know!

Harry felt so stupid and naïve.

Of course they knew!

She had been so worried about wizards recognizing her as their precious Girl-Who-Lived that she forgot to find a way to make sure magical creatures wouldn't be able to tell what she was.

And now she was paying for that.

The raven haired girl only hoped that being Dark Faes (Mountain Faes to be more precise) that they would feel at least a little bit camaraderie towards her and not shot her new status to the world. Harry had heard stories of Goblins doing just that in the past after they came face to face to someone with an Balanced Inheritance.

After so many Rebellions and the way wizards treated them, they were more than happy to seize any and all opportunities available to them to make a wizard's life. The greedy little bastards could care less if said wizard could no longer be considered full human (Or from the Ministry's definition: no longer human).

"Step aside, I want to pass." The green eyed witch said.

Harry mentally patted herself in the back when they blinked in surprise, having not expect her to demand anything from them.

Ha! It looked like she had won their little contest.

She was so happy that she had read the book about Dark Faes from cover to cover and then back again. If it hadn't been for it, Harry won't have known that Goblins just didn't care about such things as politeness. To them, it was just one of the signs of weakness.

The Goblins didn't answer for a long while. But then, suddenly, the Goblin on the right, who had a peculiar scar in his face, as if someone had tried to rip his left eye from its pocket, arched his eyebrow.

"And who wants to pass?"

Harry pursued her lips, not liking the question. Discretely, she looked over her shoulder to see if there was anyone around and close enough to hear them.

Thankfully, while she could see people hurrying from and to a few shops, no one was making indication of being interested in them.

"Henrika Potter." She gritted her teeth.

The Goblin didn't look impressed, "Who wants to pass?"

She could feel her magic flare a little, reflecting her annoyance.

He had to be kidding her!

Didn't everyone in the Wizarding World know who she was?

Before Harry did something that she would regret later or her magic reacted and somehow attacked the Goblins. She started to think about the book, trying to remember if she had read anything that would be helpfully at the moment.

It didn't take long for her erratic thoughts come to an halt as something clicked in her mind. Her hand twitched and she held back the urge of facepalming.

Duh, she thought dryly.

Dark Faes (Or any Fae for the matter) didn't care about humans. The moment one received their Balanced Inheritance, the Faes expected you to discard your human name and use a more Fae-Like name.

Good news though, her parents had the forethought of giving her the name of a goddess who was known to few as the High Queen of Faes so she didn't need to come up with a name.

"Rhiannon," Harry said, licking her lips.

It felt strange to use this name, especially since only Sirius had truly used it. Almost everyone just called her Harry.

She made a pause, thinking about it for a moment before continuing, "Daughter of the Life Clan."

This time, Goblin looked pleased, another grin appearing on his face as he bared his shark-like teeth. The two Goblins bowed to her as they stepped aside and pushed the doors open.

"Welcome, sister." They chorused, "We hope the services of our bank will be to your liking."

Harry would have never believed it herself if it wasn't happening to her but the Goblins were actually sincere.

Uh – Maybe all this Dark Fae business had its perks after all.

It was still weird as hell to hear Goblins being sincere instead of plain sarcastic.

Twilight Zone, anyone? Harry thought dryly as she faced a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them. However, instead of being the warning about thieves, the words were different and written in a language that she could only dub as Gibberish.

Either there was something wrong with her eyes or the words changed when you weren't human.

Harry hoped it was the latter – The teen didn't think she had time to have her eyes checked.

Shaking her head, Harry started moving. Another pair of Goblins bowed to her as they opened the silver doors and her eyebrow twitched when they grinned much like the other two Goblins had done but she didn't say or anything and made her way into a vast marble hall.

About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, which more Goblins were showing people in and out of them.

Harry walked to one the counters.

The Goblin sitting behind it looked up from the rubies he had been examining and arched his eyebrow.


"I want to see my account manager." Harry said.

Wordless, Goblin held his hand out to her with his palm up. Harry sighed with relief at not having to introduce herself once more and took out her Vault Key, handing it to him. The Goblin looked at it closely before giving it back to her.

Leaning back a little, he barked orders in a harsh and unknown language. One of the Goblins who had been showing people through the doors nodded and marched up to her.

"Follow me, sister." He said.

Harry opened her mouth to thank him but stopped, biting her tongue. She didn't know if it just a rumor, but the green eyed girl had heard before that you should never thank a Fae for anything, at least not if you didn't want to be in debt with them.

Truth or not, she pressed her lips together and nodded her head, following the Goblin toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

At first glance, it looked like all the others; a simple golden door. But as she got closer to it, Harry noticed that there was a face of what looked to be an old man carved on the door; a face whose eyes opened and didn't stop looking at her direction even when the Goblin held the door open for her.

Hadn't she already been used to the ghosts and moving portraits of Hogwarts, that door would have freaked her out rather than making her scrunch up her face.

Harry blinked when she noticed that they hadn't stepped into the narrow stone passageway that lead to the carts and, instead, started walking down a long white corridor filled with golden doors, each one with a different face carved on it.

Her fingers twitched and Harry could almost hear her magic hissing and spitting as it vibrated against her skin, reacting to how uncomfortable she was by all those unseen jewelry eyes following her down the corridor.

As they made a turn to the left, Harry wished to stop for a moment, open her trunk and get her cloak. Maybe the eyes would stop following her if she was invisible.

She really wanted to be invisible right now.

The Goblin stopped walking, looking up at the face carved on the door in front of him. It was a ancient looking face, one who belonged to someone as old if not older than Dumbledore.

"Quert of the Lower Mountain Clan, escorting Rhiannon of the Life Clan for an audience with Megizvark of the Golden Mountain Clan." The Goblin announced.

Harry blinked.

And she blinked once more.


Ok – First, how did he know the name she gave to the guards? And second, since when Goblins were called something other than names like Goldcoin or Ironmane?

She took a deep breath.

Now she was definitely freaking out.

Was it too late to turn around and get the hell out of his insanity filled place?

"Hum," The face hummed; its voice reflecting its apparent age, "You may enter."

With that, the door opened on its own to reveal a large circular room with only a large desk and a elderly Goblin wearing a refined and expensive looking golden uniform sitting behind it.

He looked up, half-moon glasses perched up at the bridge of his nose.

Harry looked from him to the other Goblin – Quert –, not knowing what to do with herself.

Quert didn't say anything. He merely – and not so gently – pushed her inside the room and the door closed behind her.

There was a moment of silence.

Harry gulped, looking around the white room.

"Sit down, child." The old Goblin – Megizvark – said, making a motion to a chair that definitely hadn't been there before he opened his mouth.

Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up her arms and it had nothing to do with her still hissing magic. Megizvark stared at her for a moment before looking down at the tome he had been writing on with a Thunderbird feather Quill.

"I am Megizvark, Elder of the Golden Mountain Clan and member of the Goblin Council," He said, "However, to you, Daughter of Hefeydd, I am the Potter Family Account Manager."

Harry processed his words, recalling that Hefeydd was her father's middle name before she finally understood what he was talking about.

"Pleasure to meet you." She nodded.

Megizvark hummed, "I'm sure it is."

There was another moment of silence which was only broken by the sounds hos Quill produced upon touching the tome.

Harry jumped a little on her seat when Megizvark closed the tome, pushing it aside and snapping his fingers. A tray of tea and crumpets and biscuits appeared over the table.

"Milk?" Megizvark askes, pouring out tea for both of them.

"Yes, tha – Yes."

His lips twitched at her almost slip.

"Lesson Number One about being a Fae," He handed a tea cup to her, "you don't need to worry about things that could be harmful to humans. You're one of us now and it's the humans who should watch their tongue when speaking to you."

He buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.


As she grabbed a biscuit, Harry thought of lying and saying that she did. But the witch didn't think that that would be a good idea.

"Not really," She relaxed, noticing that her magic followed her example. "It's confusing."

It wasn't like she knew what was harmful to humans when it came to Dark Faes or what shouldn't be said to Dark Faes or the like. The book was helpful but not all that helpful.

"You will," He said, looking at her over the rim of his teacup, "Montgomery and all those inside the Haven will make sure of that."

While Harry was sure that he was talking about A.J Montgomery, the author of the book about Dark Faes, she had no idea of what Haven was. She opened her mouth to ask but decided against it and closed it again.

She was sure that she would know sooner rather than later.

"Now, give me the letter, please." He made a grabbing gesture with his hand.

Harry stared for a whole second before she finally recalled the letter Hermione had given to her. Taking the letter from the pocket of her hoodie, she handed it to Megizvark.

Tapping her fingers against her trunk, Harry waited for him to read the letter. She had no idea of what was written there and was actually rather curious to know.

"I'll make the right preparations," He nodded. Unfortunately, Megizvark didn't say anything about the contents of the letter, placing it aside and opening one if the drawers of his desk, "When do you want to leave?"

Harry perked up a little.

"When can I leave?"

The sooner she left for America the better.

Megizvark took a Galleon and a small black leather book from the drawer, closing it, "Montgomery would prefer if you left tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow then." Harry said.

He nodded, handing the leather book to her and holding the Galleon for a moment, muttering in the foreign tongue of the Goblins. The Galleon glowed and he handed it to her.

"The Portkey will active at ten in the morning of tomorrow."

Harry opened her trunk to put the Galleon away, grimacing a little.


She hated Portkeys.

Harry closed her trunk, thinking for a moment, "Do I need to do anything?"

"Do I have permission to make any preparation necessary for you to have an pleasant stay in America?" Megizvark asked, looking through another drawer.

That didn't answer her question.

"…Yeah." Harry nodded.

"Then no," He closed the drawer and held her wrist, "I'll take care of everything. If I need anything, I'll inform you."

Before she could ask why he had taken her hand like that, Megizvark conjured an dagger, making a cut in her palm. Ignoring her attempt of pulling her hand back, as well how her magic reacted and started feeding from his magic, the Goblin placed a sheet of parchment over the table and pressed her hand against it before letting go of her hand.

Harry brought her hand to her chest looking down at it. The cut had already healed.

The green eyed girl took a deep breath, forcing her magic to stop feeding from the Goblin's life force before it was too.

"What was that for?!" She frowned.

The parchment glowed, rolling up and disappearing in a flash of light only to be replaced by a small golden card. It looked like your everyday platinum card.

"You will need this." He gave her the card, "It works both in the Magical and the Muggle Worlds. Like this you won't need to find one of our American branches."

She gritted her teeth. That was cool and all but – "You could have warned me!"

"For what?" He arched his eyebrow.

Harry pursued her lips with a dark look on her face.


When she didn't answer, he continued speaking, "All fees for my services will be taken from the Main Potter Vaults." He said nonchalantly, buttering himself a second crumpet, "Will you need anything else, child?"

Harry thought about it.


And even if she did, Harry would have been happier to ignore it and just tell the Goblin no anyway. The teen didn't want to stay in that room for much longer. Especially since the Goblin had yet to banish to blade he had used to cut her (At least he had the decency of banishing any remains of her blood).

Being in the same room as a stab happy Goblin definitely wasn't in her Things to do Before Dying list. Nor would it be if she had such list.

"I suggest you stay in the Leaky Cauldron for the night." Megizvark said as she grabbed her trunk and Hedwig's empty cage. "And have a safe trip."

"I will," Harry nodded, turning around, "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome." She heard him say as the door opened on its own to her, revealing a bored looking Quert, "And tell Baba Yaga I said thank you for the wizarding bones soup."

Harry froze, almost letting go of her trunk and the cage as her hands went a little lax.

"Tell who what?!" She turned around only for the door to close on her face.

What? What?!

She gaped.

Baba Yaga was real and apparently Goblins liked – Nope. Not thinking about that. No sire. Nuh uh.

What did I do to deserve this? Harry despaired, following Quert out of the bank.

Whose puppy did she kill in her last life?!

Harry must have been in shock at the those revelations because by the time she snapped out of her frantic thoughts, she was following Tom the bartender up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number seven on it.

"Here it is." Tom unlocked and opened it for her. "How long will you be staying?"

She blinked, "Ah, yes, tomorrow."

Tom nodded, taking out a small notepad from the pocket of his robe and writing something down.

"Will you be paying now or later, Miss White?" He asked, using the false name she gave to him.

Harry shoved her hands into the pocket of her jeans and took out the necessary Galleons to pay for the room.

"Now. I doubt you will even see me leaving." She smiled, giving the coins to him.

Tom chuckled, "It happens sometimes. Well I'll be going – I'll come to warn you when dinner is served."

"Thank you, Tom."

With a smile, he gave her a bow and left.

Harry sighed, stepping into the room and using her foot to close the door behind her. Harry sat on her bed, leaving her trunk and Hedwig's cage on the floor. For a moment, she wondered how her beloved owl was doing; Harry couldn't take her with her to America since she was so easily recognizable as Harry Potter's so the green eyed witch had asked her owl to either stay with Hagrid for the Summer or with one of her friends. The snow owl hadn't been too happy with that but she did as asked in the end.

Turning her head to the side, the teen absentmindedly watched as the sky outside the window changed rapidly from one color to another.

It was only now that the fact that she would be going to America to learn how to control her magic truly her. It almost felt surreal.

She hoped that this was the right decision and that she wasn't making a mistake.

Harry woke up early in the morning, just a little past seven. Sitting in her bed, she took her time to start her morning routine

After that, she left her room to get some food, sitting down with a plate of pancakes and a cup of tea as she watched and listened to the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; ancient-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; loud dwarfs who eyed her with narrowed eyes once in a while and even what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woollen balaclava before waving at Harry with a quick Morrow, sister!.

Apparently, hags were also Fae.

Uh – Who would have thought.

After breakfast Harry left to the backyard, taking out her wand, tapping the bricks above the trash and opening the archway to Diagon Alley.

She wanted to get some shop done before leaving. Hearing the gossip about her was also a bonus. Like this she could learn if the Order knew where she was.

Quickly, Harry brought a whole new wardrobe for herself in a small shop at the end of Diagon Alley, which was owned by a Muggleborn witch (She didn't have all that much that belonged to her and her alone. Most of the clothes she had one day been owned by Dudley). And made a stop at the book shop before going back to Leaky Cauldron.

By the time she finished packing her new clothes and books it was almost ten in the morning. Holding her trunk as well the coin, Harry started a breathing exercise, preparing herself for the inevitable.

In, out, in, out, I – The Portkey activated.

She didn't know if she had already made this clear before, but if she didn't then – Harry hated Portkeys.

Harry really really hated Portkeys.

"I hate Portkeys." She spoke her thoughts out loud, wincing as her body was thrown against a hard surface and her word kept spinning.

The green eyed girl tried to stand up only to lay down once more. She hated Portkeys and it hated her just as much because there wasn't one single time that she didn't use it without ending with a less than graceful landing and a killing headache.

She should have taken a plane from London to Louisiana.

That would have been less painfully.

"Are you alive there?" Someone asked after a moment o silence. It was a girl.

"Nope." Harry replied, dryly, "I'm dead. Can't you see my spirit hovering over my dead body?"

There was a cackle before long fingers warped around her arm and helped her stand up. Dusting her clothes, Harry raised her head to see a pale man with long shoulder length blonde hair, blue-green eyes and a slightly crocked nose. He made her think of a twins with the way he was smiling; full of trouble and mischief.

"Welcome to Louisiana, little Miss Potter!" He made a grand gesture with his hands, almost hitting the girl standing next to him.

She ducked his hand, clicking her tongue with annoyance and Harry took the time to look at her. She had short pale blonde hair with a pink stripe and looked like one of those punk-rock girls Aunt Petunia sneered at every time she saw them in London. The girl was only a little older than her, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old.

"What he said." The girl pointed her thumb at the eccentric man, popping her gum. "I'm Sage."

Harry shook her hand when the girl offered it to her, "Harry."

Sage nodded and made a motion with her head. "That's my Gramps, Pierce."

The man waved his hand excitedly.

Harry eyed him. He didn't look like he was old enough to be the Grandfather of a teenager. If the raven haired girl had to guess, she would say that he was the say age if not a little older than Sirius.

But then again, Faes didn't exactly age at the same rate as Wizards. And Wizards aged much slower than non-magicals.

"Nice to meet you two." Harry smiled a little nervously, not knowing how to act around the two. "So, er - Where're we?"

Looking around, Harry noticed that they were standing in some kind of park and that, despite the few Muggles walking around, none of them seemed to notice the trio.

Some kind of Notice-Me-Not spell? Harry wondered.

"The Portkey Point at Ford Park," Sage replied, popping her gum once more, "It is, like, one of the few places in Louisiana where the use of Portkey is allowed."

Pierce, who was now holding Harry's trunk (And when did he get it?) nodded, "There was a incident a few years ago and the President decided that it would be better if there were specific places to use certain methods of magical transportation."

Harry nodded, opening her mouth to make a question when she recalled that the United States had a Magical President instead of a Minister of Magic like a few other countries.

"And no one can see us…?" Harry voiced her other question.

"This place is warded." Sage explained as Pierce lead them through the park. "Any kind of magic used her is ignored."

"Oh." She nodded a little.

Neither seemed to notice her discomfort, or they were just ignoring it. As they walked out of the Park and in direction of Pierce's car, the two asked her about Hogwarts and spoke about Shreveport.

They never touched the subject of her Magical Inheritance or why she was in their country in the first place. Harry wasn't sure if she was relieved or astonished with how nonchalantly they seemed to act, as if she was a cousin they hadn't seen in a long time instead of the so called Savior of the British Wizarding World who had gone through an early inheritance and turned into a Dark Fae because of all stress she had gone through the last few months (If not the last few years).

"Where're we going?" Harry asked after Pierce excitedly pointed to one of the landmarks of Shreveport.

Sage popped her gum. She did that a lot.

"To the Haven." The blonde said, intertwining her fingers behind her back and leaning against the backseat of the car as if she owned it, "It's the sanctuary for Dark Faes. It serves as a bar and a inn as well our meeting point."

Pierce looked at them when he stopped the car at a red light.

"I'm sure you will love it!"

"Sure." Sage replied for her, "Just never be alone with Great-Grandfather Rumplestiltskin and you'll be just fine." She made a pause, "Actually, stay away from the Satyrs too."

"Annoying molesters." Pierce grumbled.

Sage rolled eyes and gave Harry a look, "They aren't molesters." She assured Harry. "They're just a little more sexually active than most Dark Faes."

"No – They aren't molesters. They just don't know when to leave the Nymphs alone and can't keep those disgusting hands to themselves."

"Gramps, don't start. Just because I dated one Satyr –"

They started arguing.

Harry rested her forehead against the window of the car with an odd expression on her face.

Baba Yaga, Rumplestiltskin, Satyrs, Nymphs… Her life had just reached a whole new level of weirdness, hadn't it?

She groaned.

Yay, Harry thought dryly, mourning the normal life she never had and would never have.

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