Disclaimer : I do not own anything. All the ideas and characters you recognize came from J K Rowling. I'm just, adding a few things, changing the storyline a little, making some of it mine : The Brooks family and a few other characters are all that belong to me, as well as this plot line.

Spoilers : Absolutely none. I have changed the story majorly. Set between HBP and DH. But, in my story, Voldemort never came back. The Death Eaters formed to make a force of their own. And Voldemort is gone forever. And for the past six years, Harry and chums, have been fighting nothing more than Death Eaters.

Author's note : None of this will have been Beta'd. I read my stories over. And, I use spell check, but no one's infallible and yes there will be mistakes. I'd prefer if you DIDN'T point them out all the time. It grates on me. Also, this is my first HP story. So, constructive criticism is loved. As long as it isn't just criticism for the sake of criticism.

Title : Like No Other [Title will most likely change

Author : Stephy69

Rating : T. Cause I swear quite a bit

Pairings : None at the minute

Amy Lee Brooks stood between to long rows of hedge, her father Jeffrey by her right side and her mother Ella on the other. She had hardly come dressed for the occasion, wearing a rather short skirt and what her father had described as "a harlot's shirt" covering her chest, a thick traveling cloak wrapped around her. Her teeth chattered loudly as the family walked up the lengthy path, before coming to a grand house which, to most would be classed as a mansion or manor. She let her eyes take in the magnificent sight before rolling them in a dramatic manner, "It's just like our old house. The one back in," she began but was quickly hushed by her father.

"Remember Amy, you do not tell anyone, where we've been. And I mean it. One slip of the tongue…and you're dear father…" he gulped before continuing. "And I wont be here for much longer." His daughter glared at him. She had spent almost sixteen years traveling the world, seeing what most people only ever imagine and now, here he was, telling her that she wasn't allowed to boast.

Slowly but surely, the letter box on the large wooden door to the manor peeked open, a pair of eyes the size of tennis balls, staring out. Amy rolled her eyes once more. "Don't they know we're coming?" she asked, a tone of arrogance in her voice.

"Hush Amy," Jeffrey replied, before showing his left arm to the eyes, the owner of which gave a loud squeak before the door opened, a loud creaking noise emanating from the wood as it did so. The Brooks family walked into the house, heads held high, before Amy slid the cloak off and dropped it on the small house elf who had appeared from behind the door. Jeffrey turned slowly to see his daughter. Standing around five foot nine, wearing common Muggle heels, and rather skimpy clothing, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders in large curls, her eyes hidden by dark lashes and her tanned skin, seemingly glowing, she was a vision. One that Jeffrey planned to keep away from the prying eyes through the next set of double doors. "Put your cloak back on dear. This is a rather cold house and we don't need you ending up in St. Mungo's now, do we?" Amy glared at her father once again, before pulling the cloak roughly from the small hands holding it high. She adjusted the cloak around her shoulders, although she did not fasten it, leaving most of her outfit on display.

Rather than argue with his daughter, Jeffrey simply pushed her behind him before knocking loudly on what Amy assumed was the dining room door. A cold, but not impolite voice called out from the room for them to "Come in," as the doors swung open. Standing behind her father, who was much broader and taller than she was, Amy struggled to see inside as her father stood, almost barricading the door way. As her father took a step into the room, space was cleared for her to look.

The room was dimly lit with one large table in the center of the room, high backed wooden chairs were seated around the table, a dark figure wearing black in each seat, except for one. An empty seat rather near the top of the table, next to a blonde man who, it seemed, was the 'leader' in this group. Amy's smile drooped. She had been hoping there would be at least one hot guy here. After all, every bad boy was hot, right? Apparently wrong, after seeing this sorry bunch of middle aged glory hunters, she thought to herself.

"Ahh," welcomed the blonde man, Amy recognizing his voice as the one who had called for them to enter. "Jeffrey, so kind of you to join as. And this must be Ella and Ariel." He said, standing to greet them.

"It's Amy," she said, in a less than pleased tone, looking at the well dressed man in utter distain. As he stood up, Amy took in his appearance. He had long blonde hair, held back by what appeared to be a ribbon, black robes on which, no doubt, had come only from the best robe makers in the wizarding world, and icy grey eyes. This must be Mr Mafloy, she thought to herself, noting the arrogance in the way he walked was about as obvious as it had been in the owls to her father, boasting of his house, and how well his son had done. Her smile picked back up, as that thought crossed her mind. Mr Malfoy's son was about her age. So where the hell was he? She wondered, her eyes once again scanning the table. A few faces, she had seen before. In newspapers, in the most wanted list, and occasionally, she would stop a face she had seen when they had 'met up' with her father.

"Did you hear me?" Amy snapped out of her thoughts, as Mr Malfoy spoke to her. She shook her head while her father muttered something about how the Muggle flying, had tired her out. It hadn't tired her out of course, just aggravated her. Five hours on a large metal, flying house, it seemed, with irritating Muggles, all talking excitedly about going to England, in various foreign accents. "I said, follow the elf and he'll take you to my sons room. Some of our….friend's sons and daughters are up there." Amy smiled, looking innocent and curtsying as she left the room with the elf.

"Hold it, you," she said, the moment the door was closed. Hitching her skirt up an inch or so, and throwing the cloak back onto the elf's arms, she turned. "Now, give me directions to this room. I'll make my own way, thanks."

The old elf squeaked, "But…but Master Lucius said I was to show you. I…I have to," he said, his hands trembling. Amy noted that Mr. Malfoy was named Lucius, and not Luscious, as she had suspected. "He'll punish me if I don't."

Amy rolled her eyes, "But, you can punish yourself, once I'm gone. Now how do I get there?" She stood, hand on hip, waiting impatiently. The old elf opened its mouth as though it was about to speak, before hurling itself into the large stone banister at the end of the stairs.

"Up the stairs. It's on the third story," he said, panting slightly, before standing up and once again running into the stone, which was intricately carved with many designs. "And it's the third room on the left."

Amy smiled, patting the small creature on its head as tears welled in its eyes. "Thank you," she said, making her way up the stairs. Slowly dawdling up the stairs, she stared at all the picture frames on the walls adorning the stair case. Some were empty, but for the most part, they were filled with regal looking wizards and witches, well dressed according to their time period. Finally reaching the third floor, she turned to her left seeing the only room with it's lights on. She could hear loud chatter coming from there, and assuming it was the desired room, she stood at the door, not sure if she should knock or not.

"I don't know much about them," a male voice said. "But dad says her father's a bit of a loose canon that's why they've been traveling so much. And her mother is nothing short of a slut." Amy nodded, it sounded like they were talking about her.

"May I interrupt?" she said, pushing the door back. "But you have it all wrong. We've been traveling for such a long time because Daddy doesn't want to go to Azkaban and mother's short of nothing. She is a slut. In fact, we only keep her around because she knows too much and, a death would be a waste of our time."

She smiled, as five pairs of eyes turned to stare at her. She loved making an entrance and knew the shock factor was one thing she did have. A blonde boy lay splayed across the bed, levitating a piece of parchment with his wand. No doubt, thought Amy, that this is Lucius's son and, most likely, the owner of the male voice. At the end of the bed sat a girl with short black hair and a face which reminded Amy of a dog she had once seen on her travels. Across the room, sat a tall boy with sallow skin and what appeared to be a scar on his cheek, Amy winked at him causing him to falter and look away. And finally, sitting near the balcony at the window, were two, in Amy's eyes, boulders. Two huge boys, broad and tall, sat side by side, eating. "you must be Lucius's son," she said, offering a hand to the boy on the bed. "And these are?"

The boy sat up, before shaking her hand. "It's Draco. The name I mean…Draco,"

"Malfoy. Yes I got that. Now, these people?" started Amy, a tone of boredom in her voice, although she was smiling.

Draco smirked a little before pointing to the girl. "That's Pansy. There's no real need for her to be here. She just comes anyways. That over there is Blaise. Blaise Zabini. I think you're dad knew his before he died." Amy smiled once again at the darker boy before waving at him, now completely ignoring Pansy. "And those two are Crabbe and Goyle. It's best not to talk to them until they've finished eating. They'll only make a mess.." he said, pointing to what Amy had renamed as 'The Boulder Boys'.

"Well, I'm Amy Brooks. And for the purpose of the next year, I'm supposed to be Draco's long lost cousin. Only problem is, I look terrible as a blonde. Wanna see?" Everyone stared at her as the witch closed her eyes and shook her head, only to change her long dark curls to platinum blonde ones not dissimilar to Draco's hair color. "Sorry. I'm a metamorphmagus. Normally, I just stay my usual way," she said, pointing to herself as she changed her hair color back the chocolate brown she had been sporting when she entered the room. "But sometimes, I like a change…It's why I'm never with a guy for long. That and, dad would probably hex a rather important part of him off."

Draco stared at her. She was so, enthusiastic and blunt. He had never met anyone quite like that. And here she was, from a good pureblood family, talking about her mother like she was a piece of trash, flaunting herself and being so…brazen. She really was like no other girl he'd ever come across. And he had to put up with her for another year.