Hi guys! I hope you enjoy this, it's an idea I've had for a while now. Let me know what you all think :D

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Harry Potter

Enjoy!

I tried to shift my bag onto a more comfortable position as my shoulder started to ache. My arms were full of pillows and my pale purple bedcovers were piled so high I could only just see over them.

I stumbled my way to the front door, tripping over one of the plant pots on my way. I cursed under my breath as my foot ached from the crash.

Typical. Where was Mum when I needed her?

I eventually reached the front door after having to jump up the step to the porch because one of the pillows was slowly sliding out of my grasp. With some amazing manoeuvres I managed to grab the runaway pillow with my knees. But even though it was such a ninja-like move, it actually made walking, or even movement of any sort, difficult and slightly dangerous. If I didn't get into the house soon there was going to be a duvet avalanche.

Throwing part of the covers over my shoulder so that I could move my hand towards the door I grasped the door handle and threw the door open.

"Mum!" I shouted waddling into the hall, "Help!"

There was a clang of pans from the direction of the kitchen and a sigh followed by a flurry of movement.

"Caitlyn, I am busy you know. I'm trying to keep up with the washing from last week and the dishes just keep piling up." The covers swayed in my grasp and the corner I had thrown over my shoulder was now pushed up against my nose in an attempt to keep a hold of it. It seemed my nose wasn't solid enough to support the duvet, so I grasped in my teeth in a last ditch attempt.

A woman walked through the kitchen door way with her hands of her hips, shaking her head in a kind of 'what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you' gesture.

Ah Mum.

She looks quite a bit like me. Or I suppose I look a bit like her. Whatever. We supposedly have the same build, face-shape and mannerisms. I can't say I can see it though personally. But that doesn't mean anything because apparently I have my Dad's nose. And dear God, if I really do I should be able to block the sun with that thing. So I'm pretty sure I don't. Either that or I have the same nose as him, but in half the size.

Unlike me, she has short brown hair in a grown out bob style. I've heard that I inherited my hair colour from some long-lost grandma or something. My hair's a kind of honey colour. Like a mix of blonde and brown. It's a difficult one to put a name to because some people call it blonde, others brown. Me, I just go along with whatever everyone else calls it.

She also has light blue eyes, which she's passed onto my little brother. They're such a clear blue that they stand out against her dark hair. My Dad has plain brown eyes. When he laughs they shine and when he smiles they look so warm. I think my eyes are slightly like my Dad's. He says they're from his side of the family at least. They're a light hazel. I love my eyes because like opals you can see so many different colours in different lights.

I smile at her outfit today. She's obviously been doing some kind of exercise. I'd say aerobics or yoga because she's wearing some royal blue Lycra pants and a massive white t-shirt.

Luckily she can't see my grin because I'm being smothered by the duvet.

"Muuuuuum!" I whine, which comes out rather muffled and distorted. She just keeps walking towards me, rambling on as she goes, obviously not noticing that her one and only daughter is about to be crushed by a mountain of bed covers.

I attempted to take a step towards the stairs so that I could dump the load. As I lifted my foot from the floor, the pillow restricted the movement and tried to pull me back. This caused me to wobble. Then I felt a tremor travel through Duvet Mountain.

Oh dear. This was it. I was going to die dramatically and tragically from a tonne of covers and pillows, as my own mother watched on, lecturing me about doing my chores.

The bedcovers toppled over after a sway too many. And of course, I went toppling with them. I landed flat on the floor with an "Oomph" as the remaining pillow flumped onto my head along with half the covers.

Oh it hurt. I'd landed on my bag. And I must admit I hadn't noticed before how many hard, pointy things I'd packed in there. They would definitely leave a mark.

I pushed the pillow off my head, which proceeded to fluff up my hair on its way, and glared up at my mum who was now stood directly in front of me. The corners of her mouth were turned up and twitching, holding back her laughter, trying to look stern with her arms folded across her chest.

I puffed my cheeks out, blowing the hair out of my face. I continued to glare as giggles escaped her lips and her grin grew. I huffed my annoyance, she was being maddeningly unhelpful.

"Oh Katie, what am I going to do with you?" she chuckled to herself, leaning back as though to get a better look.

"Oh, I don't know... help me up?" I threw an arm in the air and waved it around, waiting for some assistance.

With one last chuckle she grabbed my arm and heaved me up, as I tried to head butt the duvet out of the way.

As I landed on my feet, I turned, assessing the damage, and with a sigh started collecting my belongings.

"Did you have a good time at Georgie's?" Mum asked, as she assisted me in piling my arms back up.

"Yeah, it was loads of fun. We stayed in our pyjamas for the whole weekend. And we watched an old Johnny Depp film that I'd never even heard of before, with lots of popcorn of course. And on the first night we all made some cookies and home-made face masks."

"I'm surprised you didn't blow the house up," she smiled.

"I think we nearly did. The popcorn looked in danger of exploding everywhere. The kitchen was a right mess once we'd finished," I smiled to myself, remembering the mess we rediscovered the next morning. The counters were coated in a solid layer of fruity slop. It took almost an hour to scrape off. Our best cleaning utensil was a spatula. Suffice to say, the face masks were more trouble than they were worth. All the appliances had been left with a fine layer of flour on them, which had resulted from the flour fight when we'd finished our third attempt with the cookies.

"Well, go put your bed things back and then you can do what you like for a bit. I'll call you down for lunch in half an hour," I raised an eyebrow. After all it was two o'clock,

"We're having a late lunch today, so that you and Lukie can eat together," I nodded and with that she turned and walked back into the kitchen, humming to herself a cheerful little tune.

I staggered up the stairs, this time leaving my bag near the door. At least that was one less thing to carry. I kicked open my bedroom door and launched everything back onto my bed, where it belonged. After making my bed a bit neater I grabbed a book off my shelves and decided to do a bit of reading before lunch.

With a smile I realised I'd picked up Harry Potter and the Order and the Phoenix. Out of all the books that one is my favourite, definitely. I love the secrecy and rebellion of the DA, and the constant fighting against Umbridge.

A while later mum called up for lunch just as I was getting to the day of Harry's trial. I left the book laid open on my bed, so that I could quickly find my place when I came back up.

I was stood at the top of the stairs when a boy came barrelling out of the room down the landing and charged down into the dining room. With a bemused smile on my face I followed him at a much slower pace. When I reached the dining room my little brother was already sat at the table piling up his plate with little sandwiches. He looked up with big blue eyes when I walked through the doorway.

"Come on Cat! I'm starving!" he moaned.

I complied and sat opposite him, filling up my own plate.

"Luke," my mum admonished, "slow down. Don't you go stuffing your mouth. It's bad mannered."

He gave her a cheeky smile and started chewing slowly.

Luke is ten, nearly eleven, but he is still my baby brother. This means that I reserve the right to tease him senseless. If anybody else tries this then they receive an earful courtesy of moi. He has very light, feathery fair-hair, quite like my Dad's when he was younger. Other than all the teasing I do and the occasional arguments we get on really well.

"Mum," I called once we'd finished the lunch she'd made for us, "I'm thinking I might go out for a walk. I'm feeling a bit restless at the minute."

"Sure," she called back, "make sure you're home before dark. Take your phone. And your Dad should be home before six."

"Cool, see you Mum!" with this I grabbed my bag from the bottom of the stairs and set off.

I couldn't be bothered sorting out my bag until it was really necessary. Anyway it had everything in it that I could possibly need. It had my phone, my key, my purse and, in the case of an emergency, the ultimate accessory, my toothbrush.

By the looks of things I was lucky to have thrown an umbrella in there two nights before, because it looked as though the heavens were about to open any second now. It had been quite a nice breezy day earlier, but now there were heavy purple clouds quickly approaching.

I carried on walking, thinking about heading towards the park and then back. It was nice just to get some fresh air and have some time to myself after a weekend with the girls at Gee's house.

I heard a deafening crash, followed by a flash of lightning. Not exactly a great situation to be in. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love thunder storms. It's just that I prefer to be inside when they happen.

I looked up to see the creepy dark clouds were looming over head. Great. Another second and the heavens opened, dumping what seemed to be a whole bath-full of water on me and the surrounding areas. It was a torrential downpour that just seemed to get heavier and heavier as I fought to put my umbrella up.

Once I'd managed to get it up I realised my next challenge. The storm had brought 70 mph winds with it so I had to battle to keep my brolly from going inside out. By this point I should have left it as a bad job because I was cold, drenched and struggling to walk in a straight line with the brolly up. But to be honest with you, I was being stubborn. There was no way I was going to give in to the elements without a fight. I didn't want to give up, so I continued to wrestle with my umbrella, being pushed and pulled by the unforgiving gusts.

It was getting dark as the clouds got thicker. Weird because I hadn't been out for over an hour, which meant it wasn't even five yet. It was getting hard to see as the rain blurred my vision and I was being yanked from side to side. I was being pushed, harder and harder, making me spin faster and faster. I was completely out of control. There was no way I could stop.

I could almost feel my feet being lifted off of the ground as I my futile attempts to stop the umbrella got weaker. Panic was leaking into my mind as my determination started to fade away. I was way out of my depth.

Faster and faster, I couldn't breathe. Darker and darker, what was I going to do? Lost in the strength and panic of the storm.

There was a sickening crack and a sharp pain in the back of my head as I crashed against something solid for less than a second.

My thoughts become jumbled and less coherent as the light began to fade.

I sighed and let go of my umbrella.

Then all was black.

"Now Harry my boy, I apologise for having to take keep you away from Grimmauld Place this summer," an elderly white haired gentleman was seated behind a grand old desk, leaning forward to look at the boy in front of him.

His crooked nose supported half-moon glasses that framed twinkling blue eyes. He was dressed in the most peculiar outfit. A robe of midnight blue with dazzling stars and planets on it that really seemed to blaze and spin. He had completed his ensemble with a matching pointed hat that was sat in front of him on the desk.

The great Albus Dumbledore paused for a moment and continued "you see, after the incident at the ministry we cannot be sure that Kretcher is entirely trustworthy. And so we must perform a series of charms to check that it is safe for us all to return and continue using the house as the Headquarters."

The boy seated in front of the wise old man had messy black hair and stunning emerald eyes. Just peeking out from under his fringe was a lightning bolt scar that had made him famous. His name was Harry Potter.

He shifted slightly at the mention of the 'incident' which even he was willing to admit was a catastrophe that had ended in several serious injuries, not to mention that he had practically (no matter how in-avertedly) lead his friends to their deaths. He already blamed himself completely for the injuries everyone had sustained. And to top it all off, he had nearly lost his only real remaining family, his godfather Sirius Black.

Of course he had the Dursley's but he didn't like to call them his family. Family were supposed to be the people who loved you and cared for you no matter what happened, which counted the Dursley's out straight away.

During the fight at the ministry Sirius had been duelling against the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange. Just when it had seemed like Sirius was winning Bellatrix threw a blazing orange spell which caught him straight in the chest. If it hadn't been for Remus he would have fallen through the Veil. Harry later found out that those who passed through the Veil never came out again. Though his injuries were extensive, after three weeks Sirius had been back on his feet, alive and well.

Harry looked up at the Headmaster noticing something in this plan that troubled him.

"But Professor, what if Kretcher isn't trustworthy anymore? I mean, what if he's already passed on the secrets? If he isn't loyal anymore what happens? Do we have to find a new Headquarters?" he furrowed his brow. He couldn't see a simple answer to these problems.

"Harry," Dumbledore smiled down at him, "do you think we haven't thought of this? It is a worry I'll admit. But we have a few plans lined up for such a scenario. Of course the obvious one is to order Kretcher to remain loyal and tell us everything. I think the plan as it stands is to apply three or four of the proposals we have come up with to strengthen the solution."

Harry nodded, still slightly concerned, but not enough to voice his worries.

"Now, if that's everything I must be getting back to work. We are to have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher again this year who will be arriving shortly. Thank you Harry, I hope that you, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley can keep yourselves entertained for the next few days before the rest of the students arrive."

Harry smiled his thanks and stood the leave the room as his Professor called back to him, "Oh Harry, could you please pass me the bronze object from within that cupboard?"

Next to the cabinet that held the pensive was a smooth mahogany tallboy. Harry grasped the shiny golden handle and gave it a twist. The wide door swung open, and a figure fell out.

Harry's seeker reflexes kicked in as he caught the figure before they hit the ground. He sent a bewildered look towards his headmaster, who was now striding around his desk and crouched in front of the mystery figure. It was a young girl, of around sixteen, with dark blonde hair. Her clothes were damp and she had a patchwork bag slung over her shoulder. With a concerned and cautious look on his face Dumbledore waved his wand over the girls head.

"She's still breathing," he muttered almost to himself, "some kind of trauma to the back of the skull. I don't recognise a magical signature."

Harry's gaze kept flicking between the unconscious body in this arms and the cupboard she'd fallen from. How on earth had she managed to fit in there? And more to the point how did she get there?

With another flick of his wand Dumbledore conjured a stretcher, which both he and Harry hurriedly laid the girl on. Without a word the stretcher began its journey floating down to the Hospital Wing.

So how's that for the first chapter?

Reviews make me update faster :D

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