Year 2

Number 4 Privet drive was worse than Harriet remembered.

Maybe it was the lettuce and toast meals after the full breakfasts at Hogwarts. Or being shoved in the smallest bedroom while Hedwig was locked in her cage. Maybe it was once more being reduced to wearing Aunt Petunia's hand-me-downs. Or forced to do all the chores. Or the scathing comments.

Maybe it was the silence.

Harriet rolled over on her stomach and rested her chin on her pillow. Zach had promised to write every day, but it had been two weeks and she hadn't received a single letter from any of her friends. If she was being honest with herself- the silence hurt worse than any of the petty slights from the Dursleys.

Sighing, she tugged on one of her braids. Zach had a saying, usually attributed to his mother, for everything. What would he say now? Probably something like-

"Hello. You must be the Dursleys. My, Harriet described you well. Mind if I come in and see her?"

Harriet shot straight up in her bed. Was that- how was that-

"Who am I? Harriet didn't tell you? Well, she probably wanted to keep it a secret until the wedding. Great one for secrets Harriet is. Didn't tell me about you all until last week of Hogwarts."

"Wait!" Harriet flew to the door and clattered down the stairs. Uncle Vernon's mass was filling the whole of the doorway, but she would have recognized the pompous tone anywhere.

"Freaks? Well that's a rather unkind term. We prefer the term magicals, but to each their own my mother says."

"Sorry- wrong house." Vernon barked out gruffly as he made to shut the door.

"No, I'm pretty sure I have the right house. Number 4 right? Are you sure-"

"Zacharias!"

A very familiar face then peaked under Vernon's arm.

"Oh, there you are Harriet. You know- I was getting a little concerned when you stopped responding to my letters."

"I never got your letters-" Harriet broke in as Vernon's face slowly shifted from his normal florid red into the dangerous purple.

"Well that's odd." Zacharais shoved his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo pants, which were in turn shoved into bright yellow rain boots. Clearly, the Smith's didn't have the strongest grasp of Muggle customs. "Usually I am very good with directions and maps- Mother says it's the Smith in us-"

"You gave out our address!" Vernon's fury was beginning to rise and Harriet took an instinctive half step away from the man.

"Well of course she did, my good man." Zach straightened, his slight figure looking ridiculous next to her Uncle's bulk. "How else were we supposed to direct the owls?"

The front door slammed shut with such force that it rattled the foundations of the house and Vernon threw the latch as if he could lock out all the 'freakishness' with a simple bolt of metal.

"Vernon. . . "Attracted by the shouting, Petunia peered in from the kitchen and, catching sight of Vernon glaring furiously down at Harriet, narrowed her eyes. "Vernon was that-"

"She gave out our address." Vernon snarled. "To her freak friends."

"What!" Petunia shrieked, no doubt imagining the hoards of bizarrely dressed freaks trooping up her front path to ruin her perfectly cultivated normalcy. While her face paled, Uncle Vernon's had never bloomed quite so vivid of purple, not even when Harriet accidentally died his moustache bright blue. Harriet hesitated on the stairs- not sure if she should make a dash for her room or the telephone to call an ambulance when his heart gave out.

The doorbell rang.

Uncle Vernon froze. Aunt Petunia gave a strangled shriek. Harriet crossed her fingers and hoped that Zach had enough sense to make himself scarce and not make her wonder why he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor.

The doorbell rang again.

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia hissed as the lock on the door began to turn by its own volition, "Do something!" Too late, Vernon sprang for the door- intending to use his bulk to bar whatever freakishness was about to enter their lives.

He made it half way before the door swung open to reveal a large and immaculate woman dressed in a respectable fur coat. In a voice like rich caramel, she introduced herself.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I am Lady Smith. I believe we have some business to discuss."

. . . . . . . .

In her second year, Harriet learned that things seemed to run more smoothly with Zacharias around.

. . . . . . . .

"Well now Harriet, you're just being ridiculous," Zacharias glanced at her with fond amusement over Aunt Petunia's best tea cups which Harriet had not previously been allowed to breathe on much less touch. "It was quite clear that your guardians responded better to money than threats or charity, so of course we're going to bribe them into giving you a passable living experience for the next six years. I'm surprised Headmaster Dumbledore didn't think of it. No, Harriet. The Smith fortune's going to be yours soon anyways. Mother always says there's no better use for money than ensuring comfort. Well, that or making more. Either way, I don't want to hear another word about it, so tell me if your frightful lump of a cousin has finished moving into the smaller bedroom."

. . . . . . . .

"Hmmm… that does sound like a House Elf, Harriet." Zacharias frowned at the remains of the frosted cake. He had arrived within minutes of the thing- house elf, apparently- disappearing. "Though I'm more concerned about the poor creature's mental condition, than the warning. Still, as Mother says, an thimbleful of prevention is worth a cauldron full of cure. We'll be careful this year."

. . . . . . . .

"Now, Ronald, you mustn't make a fuss because I absolutely insist." Zacharias glared at the bright red, red haired boy in front of Ollivander's wand shop. "Harriet received a dire warning last month and I am naturally expecting both you and Hermione to guard my fiancé when I am not around. Think of yourself as her knight or something. Right? Now, you obviously can't protect her from whatever threat is at Hogwarts with a broken wand, so I absolute require you to be fitted with a proper one. It's not charity. It's common sense."

. . . . . . . .

"Harriet- Harriet Potter- is that you? Well, come up here darling and- uh, who are you?" The beaming smile from the author of their Defense Against the Dark Art's books dimmed as he watched the small, tow-headed boy elbow his way onto the stage next to the young celebrity.

"Smith, Zacharias Smith. Harriet's Fiancé don't you know." He said, threading an arm through the savior of the wizarding world, "Say why don't we get some pictures, just the three of us. The most eligible couple of the year: the girl who lived and the descendant of the Hufflepuff line and Witches' Weekly Most Winning Smile award winner. I say- Harriet- oh, never mind her. We'll take some pictures together. Smile Mr. Lockheart. I have been studying your technique for years. You're a great inspiration, sir."

. . . . . . . .

"Really, Harriet. There's no need to thank us for coming to escort you to the train." Zacharias hefted her trunk, eyes bulging slight at the unexpected weight, but he waved off her movement to insist that she could manage her own luggage. "Mother can just apparate us to the Platform. Much easier all around. Now, are you taking the contents of a brick foundry to Hogwarts with you?"

. . . . . . . .

"Now, this Creevey chap. Is this about the publicity discussion we had in Diagon Alley? Well, don't worry about a thing. I'll talk to him." Zacharias placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a smile far too reminiscent of their new DADA teacher. Harriet narrowed her eyes.

. . . . . . . .

"I say- that Creevy boy has quite the eye! Hope you don't mind Harriet, but I hired him to be our wedding photographer. Course, he's still an amateur so I asked mother to set him up with Phinneas Apperture of the Daily Prophet- does most of the photos don't you know- as an apprentice over the summer. Teach Colin a few tricks before the big day. They never had a Muggleborn on staff so mother had to pull a few strings, but really I think this was a wise investment. Oh, and I made sure that he won't take any candid shots when we're not expecting it, eh?"

. . . . . . . .

"Hearing voices? In the walls? That's strange." Zacharias leaned forward to plaster his ear against the dungeon wall too, "Oh, it's not that I disbelieve you, Harriet. You may have a recessive trait of some magical talent. Perhaps you're a medium or a psychopomp? Maybe it will pass on to our children. Great magic to have a special ability in the blood line. Did you know the Smiths once believed to have the Midas Touch charm?"

. . . . . . . .

"What's this nonsense?" Zacharias glared up at the huddle of his housemates, real fury stiffening his small frame, "Now listen all of you- you are behaving quite like silly geese. As you know, I am a Smith of the Hufflepuff line and we have kept track of the descendants of the four founders for years. The last of the Slytherin bloodline died out before Grindewald, my mother says. There is no real heir. This is all some silly prank that you are clearly too daft headed to understand. Come Harriet, let's find more sensible sort."

. . . . . . . .

"Now Justin- if you would stop being blithering like an idiot, we can ask Harriet what she said. Harriet, did you tell the snake to attack Justin? No. Well then, I hope ALL of you are satisfied and will live up properly to the Hufflepuff values of Loyalty and Friendship. Or do I need to trace out the genealogy of the Potter line for you lot again?" Harriet gave his hand a grateful squeeze.

. . . . . . . .

"Don't worry Harriet. No one with a lick of sense or magic to their name believes you did a thing. We all know you didn't sick the snake on Justin and have no animosity to him or your poor ghost friend. Oh, you don't need to thank me, Harriet. Really, it's what any decent sort would do." Zacharias turned back to his charms essay with pink cheeks.

. . . . . . . .

"Heard any noises in the walls recently Harriet?" Zacharias asked as they were walking back from the green houses, " No? Strange. Still, all that research came into use. Imagine you- a descendant of the Pervelles. And me a descendant from Helga Hufflepuff. Our children will be absolutely spectacular!"

. . . . . . . .

"Polyjuice potion? Are you insane? Look, let's just ask the bloody chap." Giving Hermione a disgusted glance, Zacharais twisted in his chair to shout across the semi-populated breakfast crowd."Malfoy- Malfoy would you please explain to us how you are related to Slytherin, because I've looked into the heritage and the only way it works is if either your father or grandfather were illegitimate children. Do you really want to go around spouting that nonsense? No, I'm not going to fight a duel of honor with you. Mother says excess honor only gets you killed."

. . . . . . . .

"I say, Harriet, doesn't Ron's sister look a little peaky?"

. . . . . . . .

Hello. My Name is Harriet Potter.

Hello Harriet Potter- I have heard so much about you. I am-

And I'm her fiance- Zacharias Smith of the Hufflepuff line. Pleased to meet you. What was it that you heard exactly?

. . . . . . . .

"You know Harriet, I'm just not wildly comfortable with some random bloke in a notebook going on about how interesting you are. It doesn't strike me as quite sporting you know? What with me being your fiancé and all. No, I'm not being jealous, Harriet. Stop smirking."

. . . . . . . .

"What! No! I'm not jealous of a sentient book! Why should I be jealous of this Tom Riddle? How could I be? We're engaged. There's nothing to be jealous about. I just think it would behoove us to turn this artifact into the head master considering, as you may well remember, the warning of the House Elf at the beginning of the summer? We are supposedly in great danger and, yes, Harriet- possessed diaries can be dangerous!"

. . . . . . . .

"Well, that was a year." Zacharias flopped down in their compartment of the Hogwarts Express. He glanced around the assembled group, "I say, that House Elf's information wasn't very good, was it? Some silly pranks with Mrs. Norris and Justin and that's about it. Nothing a drop of Mandrakes couldn't cure. Still, good year all around, eh Harriet?"

A/N: Man plans, God laughs- right? Still, I do intend to finish this little series. So here is the next installment.