| ORACLE |

Chapter 01 : Letters and an Impossible Rabbit Diet

On a whole, Hollis Lily Potter considers her life paradoxically absurd; absurd enough that exchanging letters with a wanted fugitive can't be considered that strange, neither the fact that her mild-mannered DADA professor was a close friend of her father during their school years and the even more minor detail that he's a werewolf. Perhaps her reasoning isn't exactly sound though since her measurements of normalcy are different, so maybe the witch should examine her life (and the damnable choices she makes) with more scrutiny, since it might be a little weird.

At least she has friends; although that justification but not hold that much weight.

Considering that Hermione Granger is a bibliophile of the highest order who Hollis still believes should have been placed in Ravenclaw in regards to the Mione's utter brilliance in all of the branches of magic they've encountered in class as of now—with the exception of divination which Mione insists is hogwash.

Neville Longbottom is good-natured although his tendency to misplace things or forget things rivals Hollis' own —as does his clumsiness— but Hollis finds him good company and better conversation.

Ron Weasley has an insufferable sense of pride and he is also best friend and shares her unadulterated love for Quidditch; Hollis refuses to engage in another match of chess with him, the last time they played, she was slaughtered.

The highlights of Hollis' summer are the few letters she exchanges with her godfather, Sirius Black, who happens to be a convicted felon who recently evaded an execution through impossible means, which Hollis denies being any part of; she maintains her innocence and no one will ever know with the exception of a few select people. That is what the Dementor's Kiss amounts to ultimately, an execution; death would be preferable to being an empty shell. She personally wouldn't want that fate for anyone no matter how much she despised them. It's the irreversibility of it that makes her stomach churn.

While there are many understandable explanations why Sirius didn't write, most of them are very unpleasant. However it's just as likely that she's overthinking it; her godfather can handle himself. Hollis is grateful that he is trying —which is more than the Dursleys ever did for her— and for his patience because she has so many questions and unlike everyone else, Sirius actually gives her real answers and doesn't avoid the topic. He explains whatever he can and encourages her to actively speak up if there is anything weighing down on her mind.

It's been more than a week since Hollis' sent off her letter and she finds the radio silence a little more than odd because Sirius is usually prompt with his responses —as prompt as someone on the run can be— so it's not illogical for her to be concerned about him.

Hollis dismisses those thoughts, there's no use for speculation; as she's reflected, it's highly probably that wherever Sirius is — Hollis knows that he must be someplace warm and her guess is based on the birds that delivered Sirius' letters: brightly-coloured, large birds whom were subject to Hedwig's visible disapproval—, he's not answering because it's not safe and he needs to keep a low profile. She knows that he's risking a lot for a bunch of stupid letters because if someone intercepted them that could compromise everything.

Hollis careful to never mention anything that might clue in to his identity so whatever is discoursed in the letters they exchange are usually mundane topics and Sirius' words are laced with caution.

She's so preoccupied with her own thoughts that Hollis takes no notice that she's been dipping her quill in glue and writing with aforementioned quill. Her face twists with displeasure as she examines the useless piece of parchment; at least she hasn't written anything significant on it yet, just notes on Occlumency she can rewrite later. She hears the faint fluttering of wings and Hedwig alights on her left shoulder, as if grasping her mistress' distress. The owl is too proud to explicitly demonstrate how she's troubled by Hollis' frown and instead opts to lightly nipping her fingers to seize Hollis' attention.

Hedwig might possibly be the best company ever taking into consideration how well-attuned she is to Hollis' emotions. Of course with respect to Hermione Granger who could be a tad overbearing but well meaning in general and Neville Longbottom who was too good-natured to even think of hurting a fly. Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon. Since the the new dominion involving her older cousin's inability to fit into any of Smeltings' uniforms due to his appalling food diet consisting mostly of junk food, her aunt's forced the whole house to also partake in Dudley's enforced regimen.

Privately, Hollis considers that Dudley resembles a troll, not a mountain troll though (Hollis could hardly possibly consider Dudley intimidating, not anymore. The Dursleys are more cautious and not as openly disgustful as they would be usually. Most likely because of the overhead threat of her godfather hexing them.), but the school nurse's poetically chosen words in regards to "Dudders" had perfectly honest and if anything else, quite taciturn.

She laughs remembering how Dudley had slammed the door open, nearly breaking it off its hinges and confined himself to his room for most of the week to play games on his PlayStation. Although Hollis had been curious, she's learned enough from the first fourteen years of her life —Hollis is not dumb— and listens from the safety of her bedroom.

Aunt Petunia is in tears as she quotes the conference with the school nurse (Whom Hollis secretly admires for not being fazed in the least by the melodramatic theatrics of her relatives; Hollis herself has never had the patience for it) and it seems neither her uncle or aunt are willing to accept the valid prospect that their son is utterly overweight. "Our Dud-dudders-" Her aunt wails and Uncle Vernon's voice is deafening loud; Hollis is getting a headache from it and she was sleeping upstairs with a pillow pulled tightly over her ears.

Her exact words were apparently 'Your son has reached the size and weight of a young killer whale and comparing his body mass to someone of his similar weight, he outweighs the average by a large gap.' It had been followed up with a severe discussion on what would be done to resolve the issue.

From upstairs the faint details she made out —as best as she can with her ear pressed against the thin door—, the entire household would be living off what would amount to be the diet of a rabbit.

Bloody hell. (Ron's really rubbing off on her too much. Mione would be properly horrified, Neville would be startled. Ron would be proud.)

There was no way Hollis would survive off that sort of diet and with her door locked behind her; she happily binges on a slice of the scrumptious birthday cake sent by Hermione: dark chocolate frosting over a vanilla cake and with 'Happy Birthday, Hollis!' neatly iced on in cursive butterscotch.

Her friends still consider Hollis relatively insane for even thinking about moving to America —it is an impossible dream— but for various reasons. Ron is a redheaded prat (who is also one of her closest friends) and he reacts with understandable disbelief when she brings it up. It's the last time she does; the Seeker is completely ecstatic by the promise of the Quidditch Cup and refuses to give cause to the redhead's unease. Hollis isn't idiotic enough to remotely think about broaching the topic with Neville. She already has one person ragging on her Hollis does not need two.

Hermione was even less willing to relent and had forced Hollis into promising that she wasn't going to do anything stupidly Gryffindor (by flooding Hollis with endless mail until she agreed).

Hollis heavily sighs as she continues to study the incantations in the book that Hermione sent her. The leather-bound book is labeled Everyday Spells for the Modern Wizard and filled to the brim with mundane spells and wards regarding fitting into Muggle society without notice.

She's been reading up more about various other spells, both defensive and offensive, so she won't be caught so off guard by an attack additionally to working on her report. The tome that Lupin lent her on Occlumency is a far more intensive read than she thought it would be and as she delves deeper into the subject, Hollis only realizes how shallow her understanding is; it certainly is an interesting topic and is helping her sleep with far less hallucinations plaguing her mind.

If she had been in America, she could have more freely pursued the subject without limits to her magic.

Sirius had mentioned that the American Ministry was far more lenient than the British Ministry was. It was far more culturally diverse and accepting, but many things that were considered normal by the Americans would be far too radical for the British wizarding world.

It was governed by a large legislature of three bodies with a president heading each entity that together dealt with wizard-human relations (or relations with anyone who wasn't a wizard), laws that were passed and reexamined with each year, and secrecy. It was less of a government and more of an association than anything. There was little to no issue with using magic even for minors but the existence of the wizarding world was kept under wraps.

Some wizards had emerged openly as magic-users but with the legacy of super-humans, most wizards dispelled any questions by simply claiming to be another super-human. The American Ministry was fine with that; the administrative system's existence was to manage conduct and illicit use of magic. Sometimes the wizarding world made Hollis forget that they were part of Britain (It felt like an entirely different country.) and Sirius had explained that American wizards were far more integrated into Muggle society.

She could be home-schooled like most were there. It was a culture thing. Unlike in Europe, most had started learning to control their magic from when it first appeared and were taught by their relatives at home until they were fourteen. One could start as young as eight and summer camps were common.

Most wizards did not receive a formal magical education until they were in high-school (around fourteen to fifteen) and their schooling was also for about five to six years. There were universities as well with branches for students interested in gaining a more in depth magical education, something Hermione would have been thrilled by.

The American wizarding world sounded strange but not anymore strange than Hollis had initially found the Britain wizarding world.

Sirius had sent a flyer the last time and random packets about places they could move to if he was ever acquitted. A lot of times they'd talk about mundane things just in case the letters were ever intercepted, but sometime he'd purposely mention it and Hollis can't help but wish that he was her guardian; Sirius is more like her family than the Dursleys ever were towards her.

She'd like the last one he sent. Plastered on the cover had been a picture of Happy Harbor; the skies were a light blue and the district overlooked the open sea. It was a bright blue unlike the dull blue of the ocean when Uncle Vernon had been trying to escape the incessant pursuit of the owls with the acceptance letters.

Hollis Lily Potter sighed resignedly as she folded up the book -she fixed her crooked glasses, they were threatening to slip off the bridge of her nose- and placed Hedwig gently down on her perch where she preened her alabaster feathers. When she pressed her ear against the door -and double-checking the door was locked-, her aunt and uncle had gone out on a business dinner with some associates, and Dudley was over at one of his friends' house, most likely playing games with their PlayStation since her cousin's was broken. It had been stupid of him to throw it out of the window during his tantrum.

She was put under house arrest, which Hollis really couldn't care less about, it's not like she didn't have anything to do. She has her books for the next school year already to look at and she preferred it to the Dursleys' constant complaints; Hollis was content with the unusual peace and quiet of the household.

Lifting the floorboard, Hollis carefully placed the leftovers of Hermione's cake with the other three cakes from Ron, Hagrid, and Sirius respectively, sugar-free snacks (Courtesy of Mione's parents), hearty meat pies and a huge fruit cake from Mrs. Weasley, a load of treacle tarts from Neville, and pristine rock-cakes. Hollis is convinced she could use Hagrid's rock cakes as a weapon. Without the intent of eating them, Hollis was examining one but dropped it on her toes.

The throbbing pain in her foot that followed after was evidence enough that they weren't in any form edible; Hollis preceded to bury some in the garden and they had perfectly blended in with the rocks, not at all looking at all out of place. They don't break when she steps on them either; they really are rock cakes.

She'd kept her school supplies and books locked up in the closet and always wore the key around her neck. No way Hollis wanted to be held responsible if Aunt Petunia accidentally grabbed her precious Firebolt to sweep the floors, which the broom was unlikely to take kindly to. It was an easy mistake since Hollis did most of the cleaning and her aunt was unlikely to recognize the difference between the two.

They'd find a way to blame her even if she wasn't at fault.

After thinking it over for a few minutes, Hollis decides against putting the letters from her godfather, specifically the ones with Happy Harbor, into the closet. She carefully locks up Hermione's book and her school supplies. The letter she safely slips with the cakes in an old, unused shoe-box.

It's getting late, Hollis didn't realize it, it's almost two in the morning (Hollis smirks, they must have gotten stuck in traffic) and she needs to get some sleep if she's going to wok in the garden at dawn. She doesn't want to hear their complaints. AGAIN.

Gardening helps Hollis pass the time and she enjoys it, it helps her take her minds off things; Aunt Petunia's pride and joy is the result of her hard work and Hollis must admit that although it began as a chore, tending to the garden might be time-consuming but it is gratifying to see others compliment her endeavours even if she receives no credit.

She cares for the land plot as best as she can and only rolls her eyes when Aunt Petunia nitpicks because she must nitpick; her aunt will of course not leave her alone let alone praise her. Although, Hollis does hide a minor secret. Hidden in the partial shade of the lush rose bushes is a clump of lilies she's cultivated in the corner. Lilium Allegretto discovers after combing through a few books Hollis found in the shed, covered in old cobwebs and dust. She's pleased with how the lily is developing, golden buds beginning to bloom, it's thriving under her care. They should open soon; it's summer.

Hollis is relieved that no one's noticed it; she has the feeling that Aunt Petunia might just weed it up if she found the lily and insist that it was disturbing the organization of her garden out of pure spite. The Dursleys would probably claim that she stole it, even though Hollis found it in the garden shed, wilted and dying, and nursed it back to life with a few helpful suggestions from Neville. (Muggle plants are infinitely easier to handle than any magical plants they encounter in Herbology.)

This is really annoying. Hollis sighs again —she's doing a lot of that lately— and turns off the flashlight, flumping onto her bed with a groan. She kicks off her slippers (They might have been a resentful gift from the Dursleys bought from GoodWill but they're very comfy.) and throws the quilted blanket on the chair. It's only a little hot tonight, but Hollis' room has the worst ventilation, no air-conditioning or heating, and she's dying and exhausted.

She needs to get a few hours of sleep; she'll probably only get maybe two or three even though she's not even a light sleeper. Eleven years of living in the cupboard under the stairs and no one should be surprised at this point that she's so accustomed to the constant sound of heavy footsteps above her head that Hollis considers the relocation to the extra bedroom —even with the paper-thin walls— a welcomed reprieve.

It takes less effort than she expects, to fall asleep, but it makes sense because unlike Hermione Granger, who subjects herself to impossible schedules, Hollis Lily Potter isn't particularly a self-suffering person, at least not for those kind of things. Hollis isn't so stupid as to consider that she hasn't done similarly moronic things; it's simply a matter of values dissonance.

Like Hollis can't summon the effort to draft an essay on the most "fascinating" subject, the goblin rebellions; some information which she does file in the back of her mind and Mione would be proud. She somehow managed to write eight pages out of the necessary ten even though she's sure some part of her died inside while she was writing it, but she doesn't complain as she has no desire to be thoroughly chastised by Hermione. As she said, she's not that stupid.

Her fingers ache; they're stained black with ink and she definitely has smears dashing her cheeks from when spent a very productive hour staring at the wall trying to reach for something to write about and was absentmindedly tapping her fingers on her chin.

Hollis might not be a light sleeper, but she is a restless sleeper so she usually spends hours trying to find a comfortable sleep position and staring at the boring ceiling. However she's so exhausted today that when she closes her green eyes those thoughts that bother her up until the unholy hours of the morning ebb away almost instantly and then's not aware of anything anymore; Hollis is knocked out and fast asleep.

Hollis Lily Potter dreams of a new life without the pressure of prophecies, expectations, or a stupid title. 'The-Girl-Who-Lived' is just a teenaged wizard and she hates the media maybe because it's never consistent and always fickle. Sometime it hates her and sometimes it likes her and Hollis is so exhausted of being criticized for human mistakes; she wishes they would just make a decision. She dreams beyond the world that she lives in because she'd like to be just Hollis without having to be careful about how she words things, to live without any limitations.

That night, Hollis dreams of a boy with startling blue eyes whose name she doesn't know.

| Author's Note |

The irony of the American ministry is not lost on me considering the stereotyping about 'Murica. It's the only way I can explain the difference between magic-users but most wizards identify themselves as magic-users for the sake of the Statute of Secrecy, which is a universal rule. I imagine fem!Harry would be more cautious than her male counterpart and take things slightly more seriously. She's still her socially awkward, reckless self, but a little more mature. Also, since Ivy (Hollis) is a girl, she doesn't wear Dudley's hand-me-downs and the Dursleys instead make her shop at GoodWill for most of her clothing. Thank you for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoyed it! *comment I whisper.*

(Updated 8/6/15)

| Disclaimer |

I do not own Harry Potter, I do however own this story so please do not post this elsewhere without my permission.