This has been in my head for forever, so I thought that now(what with having to write and rewrite chapter 3 of Freakishly Beautiful because I just can't get the freaking thing right) would be a good enough time to get it done.

Heidi was stumped. Being an immortal vampire, it had been many years since anything had really surprised her. She thought she had seen virtually everything the world had to offer, but today she was proven wrong.

A simple fact of life: children do not like vampires. The exact reason is unknown, but it's been theorized that it had to do with the fact that, being young, they hadn't had the time to completely close off their primal instincts like adults had. So children were usually the first to run screaming from vampires.

This was why she was stumped. Against all odds, this child was completely comfortable in her presence. In fact, she seemed to like Heidi more than her own family. Glancing behind her, Heidi couldn't say she blamed the child. A walrus, a horse, and a little pig did not make very good family to a very much human child.

Turning her eyes down to her knees, Heidi fought off a smile. The little girl really was cute. Long ebony hair, reaching all the way to her knees, soft and pert facial features, and her eyes….the most beautiful eyes Heidi had ever seen. Greener than the emeralds studding the thrones of her kings. She was tiny for her age, Heidi would guess around three from the size, but the articulate way of her speech suggested closer to five or six.

It all started earlier, when she was rounding up a tour group for lunch. The haul was looking a little sparse, so Heidi cast her eyes around the plaza for a few….juicer morsels. Heidi loved days like these, the rare cloudy days in Volterra that allowed her to leave the catacombs before nightfall without a cloak. Her sensitive ears picked up a rather offensive noise, and she instinctively turned towards it. There stood quite possibly the fattest man she had seen in her hundreds of years on this earth. He would make a filling meal for at least three of the guard.

The man was blustering at a food stand in repulsive Italian, yelling at the stuttering teen behind the counter. From what she could understand, he was complaining about them having run out of a certain flavor of gelato. A few feet away from him, a stick-like woman that Heidi assumed to be his wife was crouched next to a blonde beachball, evidently their son.

"Don't worry, Dinky Duddydums," the woman cooed in English. "Your father will sort out that rude man, and then you'll get all the ice-cream you want." From the greedy gleam in the piglets beady blue eyes, Heidi suspected that Volterra would lose half its supply of gelato tonight. And the woman had called it ice-cream, the uncultured bitch.

But her personal opinion of the...she hesitates to call it a 'family', so she'll just call it a herd. Heidi's opinion of the herd didn't matter, what mattered is that the man alone made up half of the current group, and while his wife was significantly less, their spawn would more than make up for it. So she approached them.

"Hello there," she chirped, trying not to cringe at the way the walrus was looking at her. "How would you like to go on a tour of the catacombs?"

The horse interrupted before her husband could answer. "No, thank you," she shrilled, and Heidi winced as the sound grated through her sensitive eardrums. "We are quite alright above ground."

Luckily, Heidi knew just how to deal with vain mortals like this. "Really?" She asked, careful to adopt a concerned look on her flawless face. "Most people who come here don't get this chance. Most people who go home and tell their neighbors are the envy of the neighborhood." The horse's eyes gleamed. Hook, line, sinker.

"Freak!" she shrieked, glancing to the shadow of an alleyway, evidently thinking that no one could understand what she was saying. "Move your ass, we're taking a tour." Heidi watches as a child slowly edges her way out of the shadows. At first, she was sure that the girl was scared of her. She would have been smart if she was. But no, the child kept a wide berth of the animal herd, and runs straight up to her.

"Your pretty!" she chirped, carefully adjusting the many shopping bags in her arms so she wouldn't drop them. Heidi just stared at her in shock. She'd heard that many times, but never from a child….usually children run as soon as she draws close to them.

A cry of "Stupid bitch!" tore her out of her daze, to see the blustering walrus glaring murder at the small girl. "Sorry about her," he simpered in his pitiful Italian, putting on what he no doubt thought was a seductive face. All it did was make her thankful that it was physically impossible for her to vomit, otherwise her last meal(a middle-aged business man, slightly bland) would be all over the bricks of the plaza. "She's my wife's niece, a retard she is. Violent too, attacks all the time without reason."

Heidi runs an eye over the child, taking in her bruises and scrapes, obviously done by a large man by the size of the handprint, to the perfectly uninjured male, and didn't believe him for a second.

But oh well. They'd all be dead within an hour, so there was nothing to worry about. So she turned and beckoned them to follow her, the child sticking next to her and refusing to leave.

"Hey, kid," Heidi broke the comfortable silence. The child didn't seem talk overly much, thankfully, unlike her cousin whining behind them. "What's your name?" She'd been wondering for a while, as the Dursleys(the walrus, Vernon, had introduced his herd earlier) never called her anything but Freak or Whore or Bitch, though they said it quietly enough that they didn't think she could hear, and in their own language. Heidi doubted the child even knew what most of those meant.

The girl scrunched up her face in distaste. "Harriet." Evidently, she hated her name.

"And how old are you?" Heidi really had no idea why she cared. What did her name matter, when her blood smelled divine. And it did, she had the single most mouth-watering scent Heidi had ever come across. Strangely enough, though, Heidi had no desire to attack her.

"Four." Harriet answered easily. Heidi would have asked more, but just then they reached the throne room. It occurred to her that she hadn't said a single thing to the group all tour, but it was a bit late to do anything about it.

"And this," she stated grandly, causing Harriet to giggle, "is the throne room." She flung open the doors, and the tourists rushed eagerly inside. Only to freeze.

Because on the other side stood at least fifty vampires, and so much danger in one place caused their repressed instincts to rear their heads. The gathered guards licked their lips. Not all of them would be able to feed, as this was a small group, but more than one of them were excited at the sight of the fat man. He would be a filling meal.

Both groups stood frozen for a few more minutes, one in amusement at the looks on their prey's faces, the other in fear.

Correction, Heidi though, glancing to her right. Almost all of them. For Harriet's eyes were practically sparkling, her mouth opened in amazement. "They're all pretty too!" she exclaimed, successfully breaking the terrified stupor of the tour group. The humans tied to run, but it took only seconds for all of them to be overwhelmed. Harriet just watched with surprise written on her face. Not fear, not even shock, but surprise. As if her family was not being eaten right now.

Seconds later, all of them were dead, those who got to feast licking their lips, those who didn't glaring daggers. "What's that you got there, Heidi?" Felix asked, lumbering over. That drew the attention of the rest of the room to her side, and the last living human.

"A human," Heidi deadpanned. She didn't know why she felt sad that the girl was about to die. She was just a human.

Felix just fixed her with a look, not impressed. "I know that. What I'm asking is why it's over here, and not over with the rest of the snacks."

"Not my fault she glued herself to me." Heidi defended herself. Harriet decided that it was a great moment to interrupt.

"Hi! You're eyes are cool. And you're pretty. Not as pretty as her," she pointed to Heidi, "but she's really, super pretty so don't feel too bad."

Felix just stared at her, bemused. Did this human just call him pretty? After witnessing him eat her family?

Heidi chuckled. "Exactly my reaction."

Felix just shrugged. "Well, whatever. She smells good." And he reached out to grab her. But his hand encountered a wall. "What the…." He tried punching it, but nothing happened, the barrier stayed in place. Even the kings, who had been watching silently until now, leaned forward in shock. The child just seemed unconcerned, glancing around the room until her emerald gaze landed on Caius.

And for all their strength and speed, none of the vampires could stop her from running over to him. To all of their unparalleled shock, Harriet crawled into his lap without hesitation. And, perched on top of one of the three kings, she said with maturity well beyond her years, "I like you."

"..."

"..."

Caius was pretty sure his brain had short-circuited. This child, this human child, was in his lap, and had just told him that she liked him. The fuck is wrong with the world?

He'd noticed her the second she walked in. First it was her scent, it called to him like no other had in the entirely of his immortal life. She wasn't his singer, he'd had a few of those and they never smelled quite as good. They never invoked this feeling of protectiveness, either. He wanted to take hide her away where no one would ever find her and….he wasn't even sure what he wanted to do!

Second it was the frightening intelligence behind her eyes. Those were the eyes of someone much older. They did not belong on a child. What frightened him was that he wanted this child. More than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. Was she his mate? She must have been. And it infuriated him that he wasn't going to be able to have her.

For one, she had seen them, so letting her go and tracking her down in a few years wasn't an option. Immortal children were illegal, and it wouldn't do for them to break their own laws. Even if he could, he would only torture himself for eternity by having his mate so close, forever too young to claim like his instincts demanded. Decided, he growled and jerked her head to the side. She let out a tiny squeak as protest, but he ignored it and bit down, moaning in pleasure at the taste.

All too soon she was dry. Caius gently removed his teeth and licked the wound, closing it with his venom. He carefully laid her on the floor, before slumping back in his chair, shoulders shaking. Aro moved over to his side, and lightly touched his hand, viewing the memory of the last minute. "Oh brother," he said softly, the most serious any of them had ever heard him. "I am so sorry." A vampire's mate was his life. From the first second you see them, they become your world. To watch them die was torture. To kill them yourself was unheard of.

"Uhm…..my kings…." Demetri muttered from his place by the wall. They looked up to see what the tracker wanted. And got the shock of their lives. There, on the floor where Caius had lain her, Harriet was writhing. Tears could be seen leaking from her eyes, but they smelled different. Not salty. Sweet. Sweet like…..venom. She was crying venom!

Harriet rolled over and vomited onto the floor, more of the clear, sweet-smelling substance. What….what the hell was going on?

Magick was furious. Her favourite child, one Harriet Marietta Potter, had just been bitten by a vampire. Her mate, no less! It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to be fifty years old, to have known him for years. To have invented a potion that would allow her to keep her magic! Now, because of those wretched relatives of hers-no! Not even they were fully to blame. Magic hated them, but majority of the blame lies in the wizarding community in Britain.

Oh, they had fallen out of her favour many generations ago. Her blessing was a gift, not a privilege, and should be treated as such. All of this 'blood-supremacy' that they touted made her sick! If anything, the 'Mudbloods' as they were called should be the ones of higher standing. She blessed them, and not their ancestors. Look at Wizarding America! All of them are working together, and the non-magicals are not being treated as lesser beings as the British tend to do.

For all she cared, they could clean up their own mess. Tom Riddle was not supposed to become evil, he was to be one of the greatest people in history. He was going to change the world for the better, but the taint influenced his life before he was even born, with how his Grandfather treated his mother, driving her to seek approval from any source she could. And what better source than the most handsome man in town?

Hogwarts(what kind of name is that, anyway?) only made it worse, with how that fool Dumbledore feared Tom's power, and his Dark magic. Evil….HA! You do not judge a man by the color of his skin, so you should not judge a man by the nature of his magic. Magic was intent, couldn't those fools see that?!

Yes, she was content to let Wizarding Britain burn. Let them fall by the hands of their bigotry! What she would not allow, was for her chosen to die. Blood loss? As if such a small thing would stop her! Vampire venom? She was their creator, such paltry walls would not stand in her way.

If Magick had a body, she would have cackled. Oh yes, she was going to enjoy when Wizarding Britain finally thought to check on their golden child, something she did not see happening until she was to attend school, and found her gone! Even if any of those lazy beings were able to track her down, what would they do when they found out that she was somewhat of a vampire? Circumstances didn't matter to them, they would see only a Dark Creature in need of eradicating.

And they would try. Oh, would they try. Until her mate got fed up of the attacks, and subsequent dumping of bodies, and took the fight to them. Wizarding Britain would fall, and Magick wouldn't have to lift a metaphorical finger!

The day was bright for the ancient being. The thorn in her side would be gone within twenty years, and her Chosen would be happy with her mate. All was well.

You could practically taste the shock in the throne room. There, on the floor, lay a miracle. Or a freak of nature, as some would say, but those people held their tongues, seeing as the child was Caius's mate.

She was pale, and still, and surrounded by rejected venom. Alive. Against all odds, against everything they thought they knew about the world, a human made it through the change with a still beating heart. And nobody knew what to think. So they just stood, watching, as the girl began to stir.

It started with a twitch, then she flexed her hand, finally she rolled over onto her side, mumbling incoherently under her breath. Emerald eyes flickered open, calmly taking in the room full of predators gaping at her like fools. Harriet giggled at the image, causing Caius to break out of his stupor.

"What…..?" Well, not completely.

"Young one," Aro began after a moment more of silence, "would you allow me to touch you?" Caius knew that Aro only wanted to view her memories, to figure out what the hell just happened, but he still just barely suppressed his growl of warning. Nobody can touch her, his inner beast stated with finality. Nobody but me. She is mine. All mine.

Caius wanted to be disgusted with himself. This was a child, for crying out loud. He could not be possessive of her, especially if she turned out to be an immortal child. The laws would not bend, not even for him.

"You mean like a hug?" the child asked innocently, unaware of the rather disturbing direction Caius's thoughts were going. "I like hugs!"

"As do I," Aro returned softly, and beckoned her closer. She clambered to obey, obviously eagerly anticipating her hug. When Aro's arms closed around her, it lasted only a split second before he let go, eyes wide and jaw moving without sound. The child pouted. That hug was too short for her taste.

"...by God," Aro whispered in shock. "The child is a witch!"

Before any of the vampires in the room could really process this information, the child spoke up. "Not a child," she said petulantly, crossing her arms. It was unbelievably cute, and the vicious guards found themselves horrified to be fighting off coos.

Distractedly, she turned her head, taking in the grand marble room. Eyes alighting on the bags she had dropped over next to Heidi, her eyes lit up. Shooting off the ground, she ran over to them.

Falling to her knees next to the bags, she cast her eyes suspiciously around the room, looking(presumably) for her relatives. Finding them nowhere in sight, she grinned impishly and dug a chocolate bar out of one of the bags.

"Do you know where you are…...?" Aro trailed off at the end, realizing that he didn't know her name.

"Harriet," Heidi supplied helpfully, smiling despite the bizarre situation at the adorable disgusted face the four year old pulled.

"Thank you, Heidi. Do you know where you are, Harriet?"

"Italy," she mumbled around the chocolate bar in her mouth.

"Do you know what we are?"

"Vampires."

"And how go you know that?" he asked, instantly on guard.

She gave him an incredulous look. "You just ate people. I'm pretty sure that's what vampires do."

"Do you know that you're a witch?"

"...that's so mean!" she cried. "Why are you calling me names? Meanie!"

Aro decided to quit while he was ahead.

Albus Dumbledore was startled out of his scheming(a near-constant state of mind, for him) at the sound of one of the multiple magical artifacts he had keyed to the savior of the wizarding world, one Harriet Potter.

He snorted at the thought. Her, an infant, save the world? Ha! It was a fluke. The child was the subject of a prophecy, that was the only reason she had survived that night. When he had first seen her, perfectly healthy amidst the rubble, he had very nearly killed her himself. She was not supposed to survive. No, she was to die that night, defeating the Dark Lord, and fade into obscurity as the last victim of a madman while Dumbledore claimed all the glory.

He deserved it, after all. He was the one to defeat Grindelwald in the last war, and became one of the most influential people in their world as a result. Just imagine what two could give him. The world would be in the palm of his hand!

But it was okay. After a few moments of stomping and yelling, Albus calmed down enough to plot. He would just raise the girl up to be subservient to him, and to listen to only him. Then, when Tom came back(and Tom would be back, he knew, with the use of his horcruxes) she would simply die at his hands, leaving Tom weak enough for Albus to kill him. And(this had him nearly salivating), if he planned it right, she would leave him all of her vaults.

So he shipped her off to a place where he was sure she would be raised in the utmost contempt. Lily's sister, Petunia. Oh, they would never stoop so low as to permanently scar the child, thankfully, as she would then run the risk of turning into the second coming of Tom. But they would beat her down so far that she would practically worship the one who took her from that place. And that would work very well for Dumbledore, as the one doing the rescuing.

Of course, Sirius Black had to be dealt with. The man would do anything for his 'pup', but with him she would be brought up with a sickening amount of love, and that could not be allowed. So, he simply shot a spell at the mutt, one that was firmly on the Dark side of the spectrum. It caused him to lose his wits, and to wish for nothing more in life than revenge. It wore off just after the explosion of the street, but by then it was too late.

The aurors arrived, and to Dumbledore's glee they didn't even question him. But then again, he was laughing like a loon over the fact that the elderly man he had basically worshipped was rotten to the core. Who would believe anything he had to say?

A final shrill of the magical artifact brought him back to reality, before it fell silent. This particular bauble was used to keep track of her safety, and he relaxed back in his chair when he realized it hadn't turned black. It simply wouldn't do for his plan to be foiled just because some little girl decided to kick the bucket before he told her to.

She probably just fell down the stairs or something.

If he had bothered to check up on her at anytime during the next seven years, instead of relying on Arabella Figg to report on her well being, he would have seen that a new family moved into Number Four, Privet Drive within a year of the Dursley's mysterious disappearance in Italy. And had Arabella taken time away from her cats to do what she was contracted to do, instead of sending Dumbledore false reports on how the young girl was doing, she would have noticed that Harriet Potter was never seen on the street again.

But alas, nothing would be found out until she was to have turned eleven, and every letter returned unopened. By then, it would be too late. Truthfully, it had been too late from the moment she stepped foot into the Volturi catacombs, and was claimed as the mate of their king.

Blagh, this turned out horrible, didn't it?