A.N. : Welcome. Enjoy.

Warning: Strong language, neglect past and present, minor blood, original character (but no Mary Sue).

CHAPTER 1: WHERE THINGS DEVIATE

It was business as usual in the Ministry of Magic. The paper memos flew from room to room, the Department of Games and Sports was echoing with laughter, and nobody took notice of the muted explosion coming from the Department of Mysteries. Though noise and activity did cease by an enraged roar from the Wizarding Registration and Records department.

"He's where?"

"Ma'am, if you would please calm down-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down! Why in the Nine Hells wasn't I notified when my sister was murdered six years ago? And for that matter, who the fuck told you it would be a good idea to leave my nephew with those sorry excuses for human beings? Well?"

Clara Booker was having a bad day. Not only did she get to work late, but when she got there, it looked like a pack of imps had gotten loose from the Regulation and Control of Magical Beasts. The office was in a shambles, and she had had to clean it up before she could get started on her actual work. Now there was an irate woman in front of her desk, demanding to know why she hadn't been notified of Lily Potters' death. It took all of her self-control not to ask the woman what world she had been on to not have known about that night. She took a deep breath.

"Ma'am, if I could explain-"

"No, forget it. Just tell me where my nephew is and I'll get him myself."

Clara's temper was on the verge of breaking. "I can't allow you to do that."

Now the woman looked confused as well as angry. "Why the Hell not?"

Dimly, both women were aware of a soft snapping sound. "Because Harry is already living with his aunt!"

"Do you really think I would be in here wasting my time with you if he was with me to begin with? What are you, stupid?"

"Don't you call me stupid! I'm just trying to do my job, whereas you are trying to kidnap-"

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably, as did the woman's voice. "Don't you dare call me a kidnapper when I am trying to rescue my nephew!" she paused to take a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. "Now, what am I going to have to do to convince you that I am his actual aunt?"

Clara waved her wand and the drawers on her desk slid open, a sheet of parchment and a needle zooming out to land before the woman. "Take the needle and prick your finger with it, and allow the blood to fall the paper. No more than three drops, if you please." When the woman had done as was asked, Clara pulled the sheet closer to herself and began a complicated charm.

With her arms crossed and foot tapping in impatience, Clara nearly lost her concentration in favor of screaming at the woman, but to interrupt the charm at this point could prove fatal. So she did the only thing she could do at this point and ignored the woman in favor of exposing her as an impostor.

The charm finished, Clara set her wand down and looked to the now glowing drops of blood. They spread out, and began to form the names of the woman and her specified relatives.

Cameron Tempest ---Lilith Potter nee Evens-Tempest---Harold James Potter

Clara just sat there, staring at the page in shock. This couldn't be possible, it just couldn't be! Albus had assured her that Harry was with his family, and that he would be safe. If she hadn't just cast the spell with her own wand…swallowing hard, she looked up to who she now knew was Cameron.

"If you would be willing to wait for just one moment, Miss Tempest, I'll go and get you that address."

"Thank you."

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Harry Potter, age seven, huddled in the darkness of his cupboard, straining his hearing for the sounds of his family finally going down for the night. It had been a rough day for the small boy, and the freak storm that had blown in around three that afternoon had chased all souls inside. Petunia almost hadn't let him in, but a glance across the street to number 7 showed the nosy lady living there to be staring right at them; his aunts' grudging expression wasn't lost on Harry. He was just thankful that he had been allowed to finish the small amount of homework he had before being sent to his cupboard.

Dinner was a meager affair, so now he waited for his family to join the land of dreams so he could sneak into the kitchen and get something to eat. He wasn't starved, exactly, but there was never as much as he wanted. Plus, Dudley always made it a point to eat so much that there was never any leftover for Harry to have seconds. It was maddening to the smaller boy, who just couldn't find in his kind nature to be mean or even to hate someone who was cruel to him. Sighing, Harry rested his head on his knees, silently wishing for a family who loved him, and to come and get him.

The sharp sound of someone knocking on the front door made him squeak and twitch in his seat. From upstairs the sounds of his uncle growling and grumbling as he hauled himself out of his room and down the stairs filtered into the cupboard. Harry wondered, not for the first time, if his uncle were to stand still on the stairs, would they cave in on him? Absently, he counted the steps his uncle took to get from the foot of the stairs to the front door, then when the door opened, the sound of the storm still going outside muted the voices of his uncle and whoever was at the door. The voices rose for a moment, then his uncle howled in pain. 'What was going on out there?'

Vernon Dursley was not known for his patience, nor his ability to tolerate other people, especially those who did not fit his ideas on what was normal. He was also notorious around the neighborhood for hating to have his sleep disturbed. Waking him up usually meant him bellowing at the person who did it, and waking up the block in the process.

This night was no exception. Just as he was climbing into bed next to his lovely wife, someone started pounding on the door. "Better be important," he grumbled, then promised Petunia that he'd take care of the door. Down the stairs and to the front door, he opened it to see a soaked young woman on his doorstep. He tried to be polite, despite the late hour. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Perhaps you can. Are you Mr. Vernon Dursley?" her eyes were cold, appraising him from head to toe and finding him lacking. He bristled, gathering up his considerable girth to stare her down.

"And if I was?"

She wasn't impressed. "Then I am here to collect my nephew, Harry Potter."

Vernon's face turned an interesting shade of purple. "There is no one here by that name!" he yelled. "Now leave-"

He was cut off by a blinding pain in his nose. Faster than he could follow, the woman had punched him in the nose, temporarily stealing his sight and making him howl in pain. Almost on instinct, he had backed away from her, leaving the door open for the woman and the falling rain to enter. With both hands on his nose and his sight returning, he stared at her in shock. She sneered at him. "Don't insult my intelligence, Dursley. Now, where is my nephew?"

Opening his mouth to speak, Vernon found that he could not force a single sound past his throat. Up until that point, the large man hadn't been able to distinguish any features other than the obvious; that she was a woman. Now, though, her eyes were glowing an intense shade of royal blue, and when the lightening flashed, it revealed her to have brilliant red hair, similar to-

"Lily!" screamed Petunia from the stairs. She had been summoned from her bed by her husbands yells, and with the latest flash of heaven-born electricity, she had caught sight of a face she hadn't seen in years. A face she had tried her hardest to forget. The woman shifted her gaze to Petunia.

"Almost," she said, still glowering. "I'm here for Harry. Hand him over or I'll destroy you all."

Petunia swallowed hard. As fast as she dared, she scuttled down the stairs and over to the cupboard, yanking it open. Bewildered, Harry was about to ask what was going on when his arm was grasped in a firm grip and he was hauled to his feet. The boy found himself dragged across the living room and all but tossed into the arms of someone who was soaking wet. "Thanks." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Then Harry was pulled into the storm without so much as a 'by your leave', the distance between him and the Dursleys' becoming greater with every step taken.

Cameron set a harsh pace, not realizing that Harry, who was not only shorter than her but was also barefoot, was having trouble keeping up. It wasn't until he tripped, pulling on her arm with his full weight, that she was aware of his plight. Gently, she set him on his feet and led him to a large tree, where they had some shelter from the rain. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I couldn't stay in that house another minute. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he mumbled, a little shy around this woman who had pulled him from the Dursleys. "Who're you?"

Cameron blushed. "Where is my head, I completely forgot myself. I'm your Aunt Cameron, and I'm going to take you home with me."

"Auntie Cameron?" Harry blinked, looking at her carefully. "You're my auntie?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I am. Petunia isn't really your aunt, she was only pretending. And I promise, you don't have to go back there ever again."

The raw hope in his eyes was almost too much to bear. "Never?" he whispered.

Cameron gave him her best 'I-am-your-friend-and-I only-want-what's-best-for-you' smile.

"Never ever, sweetheart." The excited grin he gave her warmed her heart; the sneeze from the next instant made her laugh. "Alright, enough mushy stuff. Let's get you home."

"Yeah!"

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Severus Snape was grouchy. Granted, this was nothing new, but tonight was an especially bad night. Tonight, he was being forced to follow Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall through what felt like the storm of the century to find the Potter brat from wherever he was hiding and bring him home. Though he would never admit it, he could understand the reason the brat had left. His brief exposure to those disgusting muggles had worn his already tired patience to transparency. How the child was expecting to live with them and not emerge as the next Dark Lord… Severus shook his head to clear it. He wasn't feeling sorry for the whelp, was he? No, it was the principle of the thing. The muggles should have been kissing the floor where he stood just because he was a wizard, and yet they treated him like a house-elf. They even had the gall to insult not only himself, but Albus and Minerva as well, three of the most respected (or notorious, depending on the source) teachers of the greatest magical school in the U.K. Not that he'd admit that he respected Minerva; she was his sort of rival, after all. Suddenly, he could hear Dumbledore over the howl of the wind.

"Halt right there!"

Unnoticed by Severus, he and his comrades had caught up with the boy, and to his surprise, the child wasn't alone. There was a woman with him, if that skirt was any indication as to the gender. A though struck the Potions Master, one that had him wondering if maybe, just maybe, the brat wasn't trying to make him miserable. Maybe was totally different from James; maybe he was Lily's baby. Violently, he expelled the idea from his mind. Now was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts; he needed to focus on getting the boy back. He forced himself to listen to the conversation taking place around him.

"And we know how well that worked!" the woman was yelling at Albus. He winced.

"It was never my intention for the boy to suffer-"

"Then why the Hell was he placed with them?"

"I thought it best-"

"Excuse me?" bellowed the woman. The rain seemed to fall harder around them. "Who the fuck gave you the right to decide his fate? Isn't that the Child Services' job?"

"Now see here-" once again the old man was cut off.

"No, you see here! Harry is my nephew, and he is going to live with me. End of story. We're leaving." She turned to a dark mass on the ground next to her, and with the next flash of lightening the three teachers were able to see what it was. The woman and Harry were standing next to a pond in a muggle park, both moving closer to it. Severus had only one thought – She was mad!

The wind kicked up, unbalancing the teachers, and in the light of the next flash, they could only watch as the woman leapt over the edge, taking the boy with her.

Minerva screamed, and Albus lashed out with his magic as best he could, but he missed. As the wind and rain began to ease up, the three forced their way to the water's edge. There was no sign of either person, and scan of the pond only showed it to be knee deep and devoid of life. Where had they gone?

A.N.: I'm told reviewing is the polite thing to do at this point.