by: dadomz(Branw3n and Lestat)


1.We don't own Harry Potter and company; they're ©J.K. Rowling's.

2.We don't own the title either... this is ©psychobrat101's.

3.We don't own the idea either... this is ©David Talbot's and the ©Traveler's Incognito's. Their asking for more fics of the type they wanted provoked us to make one of our own.

Author's note:

We're practically down to nothing, Just the words and a few grammatical errors. Big thanks to James, who would soon be reading this and to Michelle, who's been ever so endearing ([Lestat]: I sound like LILA! [Br@nw3n]: And that's what you get for reading too much Hey! Arnold fics!!!) and eager and to Quidditchgal 3 for treating us to those tens and thousands of delicious Chinese fried rice.


1.We had placed this in the Harry/Draco category for a reason… although it's not thoroughly slash.

2.For Harry/Hermione shippers or Harry/Ron slash shippers or for Draco/Hermione shippers or Ginny/Draco or Harry/Ginny shippers, All we would like to say is that we hate this pairings.

3.This, is our last warning, assholes! (Br@nw3n: Lestat! Watch your pie-hole!! Or better yet, shut your trap!) We have a little… okay; maybe a lot of grammatical errors… (Br@nw3n: We both failed our English classes! L ) if you don't like the sound of this, hit the back button and thank you for visiting.

4.No, there're no Mary Sue's here…

P.S.= Flames would be used to cook our breakfast. BEWARE FLAMERS!!! (Br@nw3n: Yeah, right, Lesty! *snorts* As if we could cook!!! Unless you've been keeping that talent from me! Almost burned down our Home Economics lab, we did!)

PROLOGUE: A Little Conspiracy

~ 10 years after Graduation ~

Sirius Black lightly tapped on the majestic oak doors before him, vines of ivy etched on the fine wooden paneling. He gave out a hesitant, melodramatic and hopeless sigh before turning the brass doorknobs attached to the enormous door and entering the ridiculously large room. The light albeit overpowering scents of cinnamon and vanilla that filled the lavender chamber wafted over to him, reaching sensitive nose, causing him to wrinkle it in disdain. He then blindly reached out for the light switch, which was usually located beside the door and flicked it, causing the dull lighting to fill the room.

He tip-toed towards the enormous queen-sized four-poster bed, carefully and stealthily pulled back the drapes and groaned as his gaze caught and held a pair of oddly startling green orbs.

"You should be asleep by now!" Sirius whined as he flopped down onto the mattress, glaring at the 7-year-old sitting upright beside him. The little girl offered an innocent grin, as if it would answer his unbearably simple question as she amusedly stared at Sirius, who was by now ranting through her hauntingly familiar emerald eyes. "If you're not going to sleep, I'm never taking you back to Hogwarts with me… ever!"

"Idle threats, idle threats," the little girl chanted, giving him an annoyingly irritating 'know-it-all' smile. "I told you, I'm not sleepy but if you could tell me a really, really good story..." she faked a yawn, to add emphasis to her dramatics. "I might fall asleep right now and you will be free to roam about the house tonight…on all fours."

"A story…" Sirius sighed, scanning his brain for a vaguely familiar tale to tell the irritating but lovely child who cuddled up next to him. "What about the three little dogs-"

"Pigs," the little girl corrected, rolling her eyes at the ignorance of the tall man whom she had enveloped in a hug. "But that's getting pretty boring, you've been telling me that story over and over again ever since I was three!"

"What about…um…" he trailed of, wracking his mind harder, searching for a fairly decent story to tell the child as he circled an arm around her shoulders, hugging her. "Oh, blimey! I've gotten it! About that girl with golden hair! Now, what was it? Right! Goldicurls and the seven dwarves?"

That excreted a slight giggle from the child. "Goli-locks and the Three Bears," she emphasized, correcting him. "And I'm tired of that story and it always makes me hungry for porridge!"

"Little Mermaid?"

"Too, what was it?" she frowned, grasping for the right adjective. "Mummy called it too sappy."

"All right, then smarty, what about Sleeping Beauty?"

She wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Yuck! To click-che!"

"Cliché," he chuckled as he corrected her, doubting her knowledge, unsure if she even understood the word. "Well, then, Lilo and Stitch?"

"Uncle Sirius! I just saw that on HBO!"

"Alright, Alright… Beauty and the Beast?"

"Be a bit more real-istic!"

"Be a bit more of a smart-ass, why don't you?" he countered, not really caring if she heard him say the word 'ass', knowing full-well that she used the supposedly 'banned' word herself.

"Watch your language, you're in the presence of a seven year old!" she flashed her trump card, sure that he would never suspect that she'd use it."

Sirius looked up in the ceiling and stared at the magickal roof, a painting of the sky outside artistically and perfectly duplicated onto the child's roof. "It's going to rain, I guess…" Sirius sighed as he tried to uselessly to prolong the time before his looming defeat. In the hands of a seven year old, no less! But it was useless to fight it, so as a sign of yielding, he reluctantly asked, "What kind of story do you want?"

"You talk less about mum and dad and more about yourself, not that I don't like hearing about your little escapades, but other than mummy and daddy Graduating together and then falling in love, there hasn't been much you told me about them," the little girl's brow furrowed in contemplation, then a wide grin appeared on her face, causing Sirius to let out another groan. "Maybe you can start talking 'bout them… I want a love story, and you make it good!"

Sirius stared at her. "Aren't you awfully young to hear love stories?"

"Aren't you a little bit too desperate to get me to sleep?" The little girl raised a royal ashen eyebrow. "Now if you want to get me asleep, you'd better tell me"

"It's a long story!" Sirius complained. "Really, really long! As long as that Chinese Wall!!!"

"If you'd stop and start telling me, then it wouldn't take that long!" The girl prodded, tickling him, trying to get Sirius to understand her childish yet reasonable logic. "Tell me!"

"There's nothing much to tell!" he tickled her back.

"But you said it was a long story!"

"Well then, I lied!"

"If you won't tell me," she put on a threatening growl. Not really as impressive as her mum's but looked and came out just the same. "I'll tell mummy why the scarlet satin quilt with a light dusting of sparkling silver and gold dust was torn to little pieces with no culprit and I'll tell on Uncle Severus-"

"Tell me what?" A voice drifted in from the open doorway.

Sirius graoned. Just his luck to have his least favorite living person in the world walk in on him, to revel in his failure, as always.

Severus entered the vast chamber.

"Come to revel in my humiliation once more, Severus," Sirius lashed out, trying to be as civil as possible.

He stared at Sirius, a maniacal and triumphant glint in his eyes as he shook his head. "You really don't know anything about baby-sitting, do you, you big oaf?"

"I was about to tell her a story, about how her parents met," Sirius pointed at the little girl. "And now, if you'll excuse us-"

"I think I'll stay," Severus took a mahogany chair, which had been displayed on one side of the room, dragging it before the bed and easing himself onto the silk coverlet. "In case you mutilate some parts, with your miniature brain, it would explain your meager memory span."

"Are you insulting me?"

"Does it seem like I'm insulting you?"


"Then, it is."

"Will you the both of you childish prigs stop?" the little girl immediately sat up, tucking a loose strand of white-blond hair behind her ear as it came undone from the strict bun she tied her shoulder-length mane into each night. "Daddy must've been right when he told mummy that you both act like ten year olds."

Severus sank back into the plush feather-light and feather-soft chair, rested his elbows on the armrests as Sirius sank back into the little girl's bed, burying himself even deeper in the satin bedcover, light silk sheet and velvet comforter and stared at each other coldly.

"You start," Severus mumbled coldly, as he fidgeted with his robes, avoiding eye contact with the little girl and Black.

"No, I insist, you start, smarty pants," Sirius rolled his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the little girl. "I haven't got anything to say anyway, me being stuck in Azkaban for thirteen years and all, remember?"

"No, really, you know your Godson so much better, you can tell her about him while I tell her about her mother."

Sirius sighed and looked at the little girl, then gave in and started the beginning of what would be an absolutely lengthy tale.

He was getting soft in his old age, letting Snape force him into telling the agonizingly agitating account. (A/n: Alliteration!!! Take that evil English teacher!!!) "Well, your father… he survived some curse and he became the boy who lived and his parents died… he was living with his mother's sister who married this fat ass and then, they started keeping Harry under the cupboard.

"When he was eleven, he got the Hogwart's letter, the same one you'll get in…" he trailed off, trying to count the years until she would be sent off to Hogwarts, but failed miserably. "Um, that's not important."

Severus snorted and Sirius glared. "At least I know how to wash my hair!!!"

Snape was about to reply when Sirius started talking. "Anyway, that isn't important and that's when he knew he was a wizard and he had two best friends… you know, your uncle Ron and aunt Hermione-"

"The couple with a million children," Severus clarified for the little girl as to which she stuck her tongue out and prodded Sirius to carry on.

"And then… he had an enemy-"

"What's the significance of his enemy? Is he connected to mum and such? Like cousins, friends…?" she interrupted.

"Yes, he's important and he's connected to your mum… much more than cousins…" Snape smiled. "But let's start talking about him for if it were not for that child, you would not have existed, nor would your mother…" Then a faraway look reached his eyes as he continued. "He was such a sweet little boy-"

"Sweet my arse-"

"Looked like your mother too… gray eyes, blond hair, pale skin…really intelligent little boy, he was, loved to taunt your father and make him look insipid and such but since, we know so little of him…"

-----* * * * *-----


-----* * * * *-----

I could just remember him as if he were standing before me, patiently sitting before a vast mahogany table that nearly consumed his tiny frame, reading a thick book, advanced for his age, he was, while his father repeatedly polished the Galleon's stacked with delicate care in the family vault. His name was Draco…

Draco stared at the complicated words on the book in front of him, brow furrowed in consternation and puzzlement, wide gray eyes, colored blue due to the lighting, blinked rapidly for a few moments before grabbing the thick tome and swaggered over to his father's enormous study.

He gently rapped on the beech doorframe, diligently waiting for his father's consent.

"Come in."

He pushed open the door and pointedly ignored the mobile paintings of his dead ancestors. Delicate chin held high, he trotted past them and scrambled up the velvet upholster of the chair situated before his father's gigantic table.

"Good evening," he greeted his father politely.

"What brings you here?" Lucius tugged on a big book located on the towering shelf. "I this visit doesn't entail your asking me of a new broom? What was it? Oh, yes a Comet 160. As I had told you once, you are extremely young to go own and operate a broom."

"Daddy?" he asked, grinning innocently. "I was wondering, this book here…"

A frown adorned Lucius Malfoy's face. "Draco, how many times have I told you to call me father-"

"Because we are a highly respected family, though the manner of how we refer to one another gains us nothing but odd looks-"

"Odd yet extremely appreciated looks!" Lucius slammed the book he had chosen onto the table's polished surface as he wiped the tiny beads of sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. "Besides, we've been known to be aristocrats."

"I know," the little boy sighed as he tugged at the heavy book. "This human anatomy book….has got me wondering…"

"Well?" Lucius prodded as he pulled his son onto his lap. "What's wrong with this anatomy book?"

"Nothing, I reckon, I just have a few questions that need immediate attention… Father… Am I a boy?"

Lucius' eyes widened at an alarmingly fast rate. "What makes you think otherwise, boy?"

He shrugged. "I was skimming through the book and I had a yearning so I flipped through the pages and stopped on a page where the male physique was explained and I looked at the different organs and well, to be blunt, father, I just don't see the right reproductive organs and-"

"Aren't you a tad too young to view this…this book of nonsense?" Lucius abruptly shut the huge book. "You are a boy, this is a Muggle book… remember that." He tossed the book out the window. "You shouldn't trust what are in Muggle books, they're filled with nothing but rubbish, just like the author's head."

"Rubbish," he chanted, a smile creeping up his lips. "Rubbish…"

-----* * * * *-----

End of Flashback

-----* * * * *-----

"And that's how I remember it…" Snape stared at Sirius. "But you never knew until Harry was in his 7th year."

"No, fortunately, or unfortunately for that matter, I knew that he was different as Harry went through his 2nd year," Sirius grinned, one-upping his opponent. "And you think you're the only one who knows everything around here."

"I knew Dumbledore knew…" Snape shrugged. "How'd you know when you' were locked up in that dratted prison where you still deserve to be…"

"If it weren't for him, I wouldn't've been able to get out of Azkaban and if it weren't for his father, I wouldn't have known about the scum on Ron's shoulder…"

-----* * * * *-----


-----* * * * *-----

I was feigning stupidity; staring at an unoccupied stool situated on one side of the cell, allowing passing visitors to deem me as one of the countless others who have lost their minds, gone deranged-

"You still are," Snape reminded.

Permitting the passers-by to typecast me as any other insane inmate…Y'know, I really didn't tell Harry everything, kept some of it to myself… I didn't tell Harry what had actually happened… I made a promise, to myself…

Sirius Black sighed and ran his yellowed and chipped fingernails through his unruly, unwashed, dirty hair. The menacing Dementors had just made their rounds and it took all of him to keep himself in contact with that fine line which separated the sane from the mentally unstable and borderline psychotic.

His will kept him going all these years, but his strength was faltering. He knew it and he was absolutely certain that the Dementors knew it too.

He had to get away from here. He had to stay alive, if not for himself, then for Harry.

He had made a promise, one he was intent on keeping.

But he knew that he couldn't keep it up.

Eleven and a half years of strengthening and honing his mental shields to keep his own soul was wearying.

If the Dementors wouldn't drive him insane, then he was sure the isolation would.

He hadn't used his voice in two years, and the last time he had seen another living human being, it had been the new Minister of Magic.

A smug prick of a man, he was.

He cringed at the thought of Cornelius Fudge, the ostentatious and too self-assured head of the British Wizarding Ministry.

The wince deepened as he heard boisterous voices echoing through the

"But father, I swear… I passed all my homework; the teachers just hate me…that short fat Professor, I think it was Sprout, no, I'm sure it was Sprout, pointedly asked me if I was the Heir of Slytherin!"

"That's absurd! Draco, the heir of Slytherin isn't coming back you know."

"It had father, it did… and Potter stopped it again, as usual. I could've stopped him myself but nobody really gave me the chance…"

Sirius turned and raised his head. He growled as he saw Lucius Malfoy's ostentatious form, a smug and amused albeit disgusted grin plastered on his lips.

"See son, this is what would become of you if you don't-"

"IT'S SIRIUS BLACK!" A young boy leaped out from behind him. An exact copy of Lucius Malfoy, the boy was. Draco-his name was, I think-exclaimed, smiling jubilantly. "What a wonderful end of the year present father, seeing somebody who had attempted to kill my enemy."

"I didn't bring you here to revel in an attempted murderer's presence, mind you. I brought you here to show you what would become of one if they refuse to study, they'd become scum and a sought out thug."

A confused look passed young Malfoy's features, before he hesitantly queried, "But father, why aren't you here?"

From behind the iron bars, a chuckle escaped Black's lips as he reveled in the witty child's presence and Lucius Malfoy's fuming expression.

Black could swear that smoke was coming from his ears.

"Draco…" he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, alright, father, but can I stay here, a little longer?" Draco quickly pleaded, delaying the impending lecture he knew was to come. "I promise, I'll stay just outside of his little cubicle, out of his grasp and don't worry, he won't be able to hurt me."

His father was pensive for a moment. Then he gave in. He could never really tell the child no.

"Alright," Lucius sighed. "Give me your wand, wouldn't want him out of here."

Sirius growled and sat down, trying to look savage as Lucius walked away. He decided to twist the little boy's mind until the brat would be scared to death of him.

"Do you know that I'm very dangerous?"

Not a very good start, but not a bad one, either.

"Of course," Draco smiled as he sat down. "I also know what you're capable of and the benefits I would receive if I were to release you…"

Sirius scratched his head. So much for frightening the child. "You mean, you can help me get free without being detected?"

He nodded. "Of course, if you promise to deter this, this, enormously insipid twig!" He extracted a newspaper article from his robes and directed the convicted murderer's attention towards the second tallest young boy in the photograph with a rat perched on his shoulder. "Scare the wits out of him and you're free."

"That's it?" Sirius grinned as he made a grab for the article, recognizing the cowardly traitor on the boy's shoulder. "For freedom?"

"Yes, since I'm kind and such…" he muttered to himself then leaned down to whisper in Black's ear. "See, Dementors are vapid creatures and they don't sense animal propinquity so…if you're an Animagi…then you're lucky.

"When the Dementor comes in with your food, you could transform and get out of here… and they won't sense a thing." He smiled. "How's that for a plan?"

"Well, It's not that good but I think it's worth a try…better than nothing," Sirius grinned. "Anything else?"

"Did you really kill Peter Pettigrew?" He asked. "That's so cool"

"Why don't you just wait and see…" Sirius expression was grim, threatening, almost. Draco shrugged and looked around his little cubicle.

"Not one of the coziest places in the world," he reprimanded. "Well then, I'll be dreadfully excited to hear about your escape…"

"Draco?" Lucius called out. Draco turned around and stared at his father. "Hurry, we have to rush to Knockturn alley, there're things I want to trade and the like."

"Okay," Draco mumbled. He walked slowly out of the cubicle. Sirius, desperate for more information, quickly pulled on Draco's robes, only to pull it down. "What the-"

"Whoops!" Sirius stared at the clothes. The shirt was made of raw silk and… a… pleated skirt? Lucius eyes widened as he gathered up the robe.

"We're Scottish, this is a kilt," Draco regarded the skirt. "I hope there is no confusion here in your part, Mr. Black. Good luck"

Scottish my arse.

-----* * * * *------

End of Flashback

-----* * * * *------

"Liar!" Severus jumped up. "Draco would never go to Azkaban or Lucius you to him…you're located at the top most tower with more magickal guards and Dementors than there were Death Eaters!"

"Doesn't mean they can't visit me… I don't know why and I don't know how but all I know was that… I owe my freedom to this young … whatever."

"They really are Scottish," Severus smiled. "They have a manor in Scotland."

"And one in the south of France, in Madrid, all across Europe," Sirius smugly pointed. "So, are they French, Spanish, Irish, Greek, too?"

"Can you two please just get on with it?" the little girl bounced up and down on her bed, excited. "I don't really know what this story has got to do with my father and mum… I also wonder about this enemy, his bewilderment of his gender and his cross-dressing tendencies."

"But it wouldn't really be a good story a bit of background, luv," Sirius smiled adoringly at the young child. "Besides, I don't have to tell you anything about your father when his life has been written in Dark Art and History books all over the world in different languages."

"And besides, there's nothing really much to say about his life except, that he was an orphan living with the biggest Muggles imaginable and that he defeated the dark lord… the end." Severus summarized. "There's really nothing much to tell, not much excitement and not so much water works, it's all action and all adventure, not the love story you've been wanting, luv."

"Isn't that what youngsters today like?" Sirius asked. "Action and Adventure?"

"I think they prefer Romance, as what Uncle Sev said, now will you get on with it?" The little kid grumbled. "I really don't think that it's important to discuss this whoever's life. The only thing I really wonder is that why he calls Grampa father. But that's all inconsequential, though, so get on with mum and dad's story."

"I don't know where to start… do you know where to start?" Sirius questioned Severus.

"Ask her to ask us a question, maybe we could answer it or dodge it," Severus shrugged.

Sirius nodded. "Works for me… So… Have any questions? Just a little plot line?"

"When did they first meet?" she asked tilting her head to the side, acting like her usual adorable self.

"I think it was school" Sirius shrugged. "7th year?"

"No, it was before that…we don't accept transferee students" Severus corrected. "Remember? Or has prison knocked out all the trivial knowledge in your tiny brain?"

" I remember, and sod off! But It was the time I guess when they got to know each other or noticed one other," Sirius shrugged. "I just thought so… well when did they meet then?"

"Knew each since First year?" Severus rolled his eyes. "When else?"

"The story, the part where they met each other! It was in 7th year!!!" Sirius exclaimed. "How it all started chum? It was a dark dreary day…"

"I remember! They met even before that… I extracted this piece of information from Harry's head"

"They did?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That's bloody awesome!"

------* * * * *-----


-----* * * * *------


Harry peered out of the tiny window set above the cupboard. It had probably been an architectural erratum. But that window had been his only glimpse of the outside world when he was locked up in his bleak prison-room, which was a constantly normal occurrence, for whatever task he would do, no matter how small or insignificant, would irritate his aunt and uncle to no end.

The outcome of the chore, successful or not, did not matter.

All that mattered was that every single move he made would drive them towards the brink of their sanity.

Now, peering out the age-stained, dust covered window, he could see the dark gray clouds on the horizon and the damp grass that covered his relatives' lawn. He sat stoic and still on his rumpled mattress and did all he could to even out his breathing.

Didn't want anyone to find out that he was being abused and hidden in the tiny cell that the Dursley's acknowledged as a cupboard but what he would like to think of as a room.

He could hear muffled footsteps just outside of his makeshift albeit permanent room/cupboard. He knew that he should follow orders and sit quietly in his room, but curiosity got the better of him and he leaned on the doorframe.

"How nice of you to take time in your busy schedule to check up on our tiny yet thriving business!" Harry could almost see his uncle's broad grin and taste the 'eager to please the higher and mightier' attitude. "On behalf of my company, 'Grunnings', my wife and I would like to invite you to dine with us in that new Italian restaurant, a mile from here to talk about the business matters at hand"

"Very well," He heard the man say. "Will it alright if I leave my child here?"

"It would be our pleasure and honor," Harry heard his Aunt assuage. "Dudley will keep your adorable tyke company."

Harry sighed and peered through the little peephole on the door of his cupboard. The man nodded and placed his little child on an ancient-looking chair. The child, as he could see, was almost his father's doppelganger, the same shiny blond hair and high cheekbones.

He watched as his uncle and aunt as they led the distinguished man out of their house through the front porch. He could barely see the little child since Dudley obese form had blocked the way.

"I've got a big red train, it's this long and it's this big!" Dudley boasted. "My Aunt Marge from Majorca bought it for me!"

"That's nice," the child replied, stifling a yawn. "I don't have time to play toy trains, though, so your boasting receives no interest from me."

Dudley shrugged. "That's not all, Dad has took me to a fishing trip and we ended up catching really big tunas."

"Oh," The child mumbled, feigning interest. "We don't eat tuna. I'm allergic with other kinds of fish except caviar."

"Caviar? What are those?" Dudley twitched his nose. "I'm sure they taste half as good as tuna, though."

The child shrugged. "They may taste half as good but it is the quality that is sought for. Caviar is fish eggs that only the rich and sophisticated eat, I see now as to why you would not have heard of it."

Dudley stared at the little child. "Huh?"

The child rolled its eyes. "A proper intellectual conversation is obviously beneath you. Why do I always get stuck with morons who are obviously below my level of intellect?"

"Huh?" Dudley echoed again. "I don't understand what you're saying? Can you try speaking slowly?"

"No," The little child mumbled. "How old are you? Why can't you understand? Are you mentally incapacitated?"

Dudley shook his head. "The only part I understood was How old are you? I am 6"

The child nodded. "Six? Are you absolutely sure that you're six? Your size more than confirms it but your mental capability contradicts such. There are quite a few words you can't seem to understand. Your mental capability is for a 4-year-old. Are you aware that I am younger than you?"

"You're no fun," Dudley scratched his nose. "You speak like my mum and dad and you eat fish eggs and you're shorter than me!" Dudley shook his head and started to go upstairs. "If you need anything I'll be in my room playing with my shiny, red, sparkling, big, expensive and wonderful toy train."

"Do whatever pleases you," the little child mumbled, stealthily walking around the Dursley's expensive Persian carpet. Harry sighed and backed away, knocking his little toys in the process.

The child straightened right away and tried to figure where the sounds came from. The little child paced around and finally trotted towards the cupboard. "Anyone in there?"

"No one," Harry clasped his mouth and shook his head as he backed away and leaned on the wall.

Non-relatives weren't allowed to know of his existence and he had just stupidly revealed himself to a child whom he was sure would promptly tell the Dursley's guest.

"Ha!" The child exclaimed. "Nice try but don't take me for a vacuous child, in fact, I'm a rather gifted child. My IQ's 170 and I was accelerated to 2nd grade" The child pulled the cupboard open. "What are you doing in here anyway?"

"My uncle says I should shut my mouth and stay here just because he says so and it's proper since I'm not his child and I live here," Harry exited the cupboard, brushing the dust that had gathered on his bangs. "How old are you?"

"I'm five," The child smiled. The child was rather, a she…wearing a plain white dress made of raw silk. "And you?"

"I'm 6" Harry replied immediately. He seated himself on the steps. "That was my cousin, Dudley"

"He's quite obese, isn't he?" She asked. "I have acquaintances, they're the sons of my father's colleagues. Probably his size maybe even larger and stockier."

"Er… alright," Harry nodded. "So… where are you from?"

"Scotland," She smiled. "So… You live under the cupboard? That's amusing, Even our house elves live in little quarters with twin beds."

"House elves?" Harry asked shaking his head. "What are house elves?"

"Pardon me, I haven't thought of you as a Muggle but then, what should one expect? House elves are little elves that work without wages." She let out a dramatic sigh. "Muggles are non-magical people."

"Non-magical people?" Harry asked. "My uncle doesn't believe in magic, he says it's a bunch of rubbish."

"Precisely," She interjected. "That's why you're all called Muggles because you all think that Magic is rubbish but without magic, you'd all probably suffer."

"Suffer?" Harry mumbled. "I never really thought of that but now that you said that, I think I'll be remembering that."

"That, that, that," She teased, amused by his redundancy. "In just a few minutes, my father will be back and pick me up."

Harry nodded, staring out of the window. A few minutes passed before Harry looked at the little girl and found her pretty and being a child, said so.

The little girl tore her gaze from the window. "Pardon?"

"You're very pretty," Harry repeated. "Once, my teacher showed me a picture of different angels and you reminded me of one angel, the angel had yellow hair and blue eyes,"

"Oh," the girl nodded, slowly taking in the compliment. No one had really called her pretty, other than her mother, everyone else called her handsome, charming or horrible. So, being in a state of shock, she replied with a furrowed brow. "Ah! A little cherub with blonde hair?" She asked with a little smile. "Thank you, that will probably be the only compliment I shall ever receive from a person who is not my relative. Come to think of it, you're not all that bad yourself, not considering that horrific scar plastered onto your forehead and broken glasses covering those emerald orbs of yours."

"That's me," Harry smiled sullenly. "I've gotten this scar in a car accident, my parents died while I survived, sometimes, though, I wish that I could've died with them."

"There must've been a reason why you're living," she sympathized, allowing her head to fall in front of her. "The whole world's probably waiting for you, while I… I'll never be destined for anything except, maybe, bad faith, I don't know to what exactly, but that is what they tell me."

"Bad faith?" Harry chuckled. "What in the world is that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "Nothing, that's what my name means, though, anyway… there's this boy who has a scar not unlike yours on his forehead, too, and well, he saved a lot of people from dying and it is probable that I should meet him."

"Oh," Harry shrugged. "You must be pretty excited to meet him, now?"

She nodded. "It would be an honor to just be able to walk with him in our school or to just be acquainted with him, I'm not exactly the most likeable person in the world and well, it is very possible for him to abhor, hate, me."

"But you're very pretty," Harry consoled. "This boy is going to like you, I promise, along with everyone in that place." He then stood up and extended his hand for the little girl to take. "Every boy is going to like you, even my cousin likes you and he's a really picky type."

She girl took his hands and smiled at him. "What about you? Do you like me?"

Harry nodded silently, smiling. She then tiptoed and gave him a peck in the cheek.

"A first," Harry chuckled as the girl took a step back.

"I hope I could give the boy who saved the Wizarding world a kiss like that when I meet him," She smiled shyly. "Or if not, Then I'd wish to be his friend."

"He must be very lucky then," Harry sighed. "To be able to meet you, talk with you and be with you."

She let out a laugh. "Can you see the irony of this? It's not like it's going to happen, He's direly different, we're from two different worlds. He's going to be in a different house, I know, feel, it."

Harry stared, his confusion shining through. "Aren't all of you supposed to be not living in the same school?"

She chuckled. "Not like that," she shook her head. "This school is different,"

She wiped the grime off the glass and stared at the approaching car. "They're here…" she removed something from her neck and palmed it carefully. "I don't have time to explain, you have to hide back into your cupboard now and here…" She took Harry's palm, opened Harry's it and let an enormous golden coin which hung from a satin maroon ribbon. "Keep this somewhere, my gift to you…" (Lestat: A total rip-off from GABRIEL'S ANGEL; where Tristan gave Alaina a whole new guinea! [Br@nw3n: *snort* There goes our originality, Lordy! We're gonna be in trouble in the upcoming chappies if we can't even cone up with something original this early on!])

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"Wow…" Sirius breathed, as if he were there with Harry and the young child. " What I'm wondering is that if Harry had the coin with him… Did he remember anything? Did he?"

Snape nodded. "The coin wasn't a galleon, Black, the gold coin was the ancient coin that a particular Goddess held in her right hand. The Goddess was somehow one of the Malfoy's great ancestors and well, it's her heritage and she gave it to him and that's where our story starts…. 7th year…"


TBC PEOPLE! Thank you for those who are reading and for those who are planning to review but please don't review because you pity us. We write for the purpose of writing alright? Nothing's going to stop us. Au Revoir!

A/N: By then, you've probably figured out who the little girl, cross-dresser and gender-confused little child is. As if you haven't!!! You'd be pretty insipid not to have noticed. Blonde hair, gray eyes, child of Lucius Malfoy, large and stocky children of Lucius' associates (Crabbe and Goyle!!!) inspired by the Traveler's Incognito (Draco Dormeins-gender bender version!!!) oh, and the title, can't beat that!!! Opposite of Sex..

And before I, we, insult you further in this authors' note, please Review!!!! We promise that it is quite different from the gender bender version, though it may be the same cliched love stories you read on the Net but…(Lestat: Br@n, you're scaring off the readers/reviewers and dissing our story!!! Gr… can't persuade reviewers to save your arse.) [Takes over keyboard before Br@nw3n offends any more possible readers.] Don't mind the note above, just REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW