Hey y'all. Man, I'm about to turn into one of those people that continue to post like...2k words of a new story, which they never finish, and then never finish any of the other stories either! Oooooor, maybe I'll surprise you all and finish all of them in a timely manner...yeah you're right, that last one ain't happening. Lol. Anywhore, Fem!Harry Potter and The Vampire Diaries. Hell yeah. We're going to make a few changes, capisce? As I'm writing this AN, I have no idea what Harry's name will be. Oh well. Anyway, our new Harry will be older than canon Harry was when the war was won. So that literally means more deaths aka more emotional - and prolly physical, let's be honest - trauma, but that also means that Harry won't be going to high school (like, who wants to do that again?). Let's make her...23...when it ends. I think that's a very respectable age, says the 23 year old author...In order to fit the TVD timeline, let's move HP canon up...just six years (born in 1986 instead of 1980) and extend it 6 years as well. Yay psychological damage. We'll insert our Harry into TVD in September of 2010, because that's when this timeline I found on the internets says that Klaus was hanging around town after breaking his curse and killing his dad.Let's talk about family relations.

So. All my life I thought that Harry's paternal grandparents were Dorea Potter neé Black and Charlus Potter. So it damn near blew my wig off when I find out on Pottermore that his g-parents are Fleamont and Euphemia. Yo. Not cool. I really wanted him(her) to be somewhat closely related to the Blacks. So here's what gonna happen. Fleamont and Charlus are brothers now, savvy? So Dorea is now Harry's Great-Aunt (through marriage), and since she's also Sirius' great aunt...that makes them...cousins? Like third cousins or some shit like that (I wasn't paying attention in class when we learned that). But...I want our Harry to be able to inherit the Black family magic and stuff, and marriage just isn't going to cut it. So. Sirius and James are such bffs that without EVER letting anyone know, they became blood brothers. Magic looked favorably upon them, yada ya, James is a Black by blood, therefore Harry is a Black by blood. Cool. Fixed that to my liking.Btw, if you didn't catch it earlier, this is a Harry/Klaus story. Because I love my boo Elijah, but I also love Klaus and I think he and Harry would be so good together. So clearly this is AU. Ummm. I'll guess I'll explain the rest in story...See you at the bottom.

Willow Eris Potter was born in the last few seconds before the clock struck twelve midnight on what would be August 1, 1986. If she had been born to any other family, they might have disregarded the difference and just gone with August this was a wizarding family, a magical family, and magicals know that both place and time, even down to the very second, are important, and the knowledge should be recorded strictly. So as the 7th month died, little Miss Potter took her first breath, and lived.

Willow was born to James Fleamont Potter (Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Pure Blood), and Lily J. Evans Potter (Muggleborn). She was named after Eris, the goddess of chaos and discord, which was a collaborative effort between James and his best mate and blood-brother Sirius Orion Black (disowned heir of the Most Ancient and Pure House of Black, Pure Blood), who wanted to find a name that would lend itself to her future endeavors of mischief making. And since mischief breeds chaos ("only if it's done right" Sirius would say), well, there you have it. Lily, in turn, only allowed the aforementioned middle name since she was the one to choose Willow's first name, in tradition of her own family, a flower. Or rather, a flowering tree.

Willow had a wonderful childhood. She was loved by her parents. Doted on by her honorary Uncles. Everything was perfect. Until her world came crashing down one chilly, chilling, Halloween night. The night that Voldemort came to kill the child he saw as his rival. The Halloween after Willow's first birthday heralded the end of an age. It was the end of happiness and naivety for our heroine. The end of the innocence of one man. The end of a life for two parents. The end of the trust between three friends. And the end of the war for the whole community of wizardkind. Or so they thought.

In the aftermath, baby Willow, agedone year and three months, was left on the doorstep of her muggle, magic-hating maternal aunt, to be found on the brisk morning of November 1st, when Petunia went to set out the milk bottles. Petunia would have left her there, had it not been for the thoughtful (thoughtless?) letter left by one Headmaster Albus Dumbledore (he of too many titles), outlining the protective value of bringing the infant into the house while deatheaters still roamed the streets. Willow was then promptly thrown into the cabinet under the stairs, which housed cleaning products and implements of all things, and forgotten about. She was silent. Until she cried for a diaper change. No one answered. She cried for her mommy. For her daddy. For Padfoo', for Moony. For food, for comfort. The door opened, illuminating the pursed face of her Aunt and the puce face of her Uncle. She soon learned never to cry.

Willow was a quiet girl. Or rather, Freak was. She was silent, because silence is golden, and she was enough of a freak already so talking wouldn't make it any better. Freak was excellent at gardening - her garden won her Aunt prizes every year since she started working in it, she was great at cleaning - the Dursley men were filthy pigs, so it was a constant job, she was getting better at cooking - it's easy to learn when failure amounts to being splashed with hot grease or hit with a cast iron skillet, but she was truly superb at disappearing.

Whenever she didn't need to be anywhere, Freak would disappear. Usually into the garden if it wasn't winter time, to hide underneath the bushes she so lovingly pruned and speak with the little garden snakes that brought her knowledge from the outside world. Freak didn't go to school ("because Freaks like you aren't welcome there") but it was amazing what information one could glean from an overzealous reptile. They told her about cars, those nasty contraptions and killed many of their brethren, and gossip from the ladies in the neighborhood. They spoke of ground creatures they liked to eat, and air creatures they wish they could catch, and between all these ideas, sometimes they talked about letters, and words, and these things called books. The snakes didn't find them very useful or interesting, but Freak sure did. She saw these things, letters, words, on the cleaning bottles in her cupboard. And she listened, and practiced (silently), and one day she asked where she could find these books.

The snakes were surprised when she spoke. They called her Hatchling, which she liked much more than Freak, and although she usually never responded to their inquiries with more than a head tilt, they were always nice, sometimes angry, but nice. So when she spoke, they were surprised, but she had never asked for anything before, so one of them, a young, brave one that had no fear of streets, showed her to the nearest library. Hatchling fell in love immediately.

Books were amazing. And she didn't know that word before and she had nothing to use it on before she came to the library, but now she knew. And she could continue to know, because they library had books on everything. She read books about how cars worked, and about her snakes, and about the creatures that flew in the sky - birds, or planes, she wasn't quite sure which one the snakes were talking about now. And then she found the fiction stories. And they weremagic- no, ("Magic isn't real Freak. Your parents died because they didn't want you Freak! Quit that freakishness right now or I'll-") they were the closest thing to magic she'd ever seen. She could travel to different worlds, meet new people, she was free to imagine, to be happy. This library was a dangerous place. She could get lost there, and never want to go back to the Dursley's. Already she'd almost been missed at home because she spent to long there.

So this is how young Willow's life went, for years. On the outside, the Dursley's were an upstanding family of three. Open the door, and there was a fourth member, a slave. The whipping girl. Cleaning, cooking, hiding, learning. That's what she did. Until July 31st, 1997, when an owl (a barn owl to be exact - she noted) flew down to her while she was watering the gardenias, and dropped a letter into her hands. It was clearly an act of freakishness, and the Dursley's abhorred freakishness in all forms, so she hid the letter in her pants, and the next time she passed her cupboard, she slid the letter under the door, no one the wiser.

When her chores were done for the day, and her presence was no longer required, Hatchling disappeared into her room, thoughts of her fading from the Dursley's minds. She didn't have a light in her space, but it was still early enough that there was a glow from the lights outside of her cupboard. She used that to read.

The letter was addressed to a Willow Potter. Willow was a nice enough name she supposed. It meant slender, graceful, flexible but Willow Potter, the Cupboard under the Stairs. Well, that was highly specific. Hatchling wasn't an idiot. By now she knew that Hatchling, or even Freak, wasn't her real name. The girls in her story books had names like Ivy Rose, or Elizabeth Taylor. And that owl had delivered it to her. All signs pointed to Willow Potter being her. She'd take it. She opened the are cordially invited to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...The letter began. And became stranger and stranger the farther down she read. Well then.

It wouldn't make sense to completely disregard the message just because it sounded crazy and the school's name was stupid. It was delivered by an owl, which is not a normal carrier animal, pigeons are. And she spoke with snakes for goodness sakes, there was nothing normal about her. So yeah, she'd give this witchcraft thing a try. It couldn't be any worse that how she was living right now, right?

The first thing she did after disappearing the next day was head to the garden. Her snakes were highly knowledgeable, they would at least know something about this...school. Hopefully.

"Pigfarts you say?"

"Hogwarts." Willow corrected.

"Hm. It does sound familiar. I have this snooty cousin in London-village. He's always talking about how he can feel the magic in the air. I never believed him before, but hey, every snake has his day. His name is ssssss-ss-ssssS. See if you can find him while you're there."

"London is huge. How am I supposed to find him?" The snake slithered off without acknowledging the question.

The next place she went was the library. One, she needed a pen to respond to the letter, reserving the spot at the school and two, it was a library, she should be able to find some information on this "Leaky Cauldron" place.

She couldn't find any information on a place in London called The Leaky Cauldron. It was as if it didn't exist. How was she supposed to become a witch if she couldn't even find the entrance to the Wizarding World?! The sound of a book falling and hitting the floor startled her from her frustrations. The book landed face down, but open. It looked very old, unlike the other book in the library that were more worn than actually old. The title was strange too,The Tales of Beedle the Bard. They seemed to be children's stories, but that was impossible. She had scoured these shelves since her library awakening and knew all the fairytales from top to bottom. Maybe it has been misfiled all this time? She was in the history/geography section. She picked up the book, keeping it open to the page.

"The Tale of the Three Brothers." She .She opened the book at the cover to see if there was more information on it. Instead she found a handwritten note:If found, please return to Tom the Barkeep. The Leaky Cauldron. 1 Diagon Alley or Charing Cross Road, London.

That was...fortuitous, she thought. Then she looked up at the bookcase this book was meant to have fallen from. There were no empty spots on the shelf. That strange circumstance signaled the end of her trip to the library, and so she left, book in tow.

And she read the book. It was amazing, of course. They were like the fairytales she knew, but for witches and wizards, which made them better. And she found a map and made a plan to visit London. With some very judicious uses of disappearing, Willow hopped on the tram one morning, and arrived in London a little under 2 hours later. She used the tourist map she got from the library and navigated the streets until she found what she was looking for.

The Leaky Cauldron was...an odd place. It was situated between two very well maintained buildings, but it was severely lacking in upkeep itself. Willow would have thought this was all an elaborate scheme to lure her out and kidnap her to sell on the black market, had it not been for the fact that everyone (but her) was ignoring the ramshackle place. It was downright...intriguing. So, she swallowed her fear and walked into the building.

It was like night and day. This, the inside, was a well-kept pub. It was lively and clean enough, there were plenty of people inside, despite the early hour, and she really should have heard the noise they were making outside the doors. It must have been magic. Now onto the next problem, the letter said that the Leaky was the entrance to Diagon Alley, but where did she go from here? Did she lose her anonymity and ask for directions? Or did she wait? Well, silence had been a good friend up to now and it would continue to be. So she waited. And watched.

Eventually, two men came in from the door she entered through. They were mid to late twenties, and chatting about their plans for the day.

"I've got to head to Gringotts before I hit the Apothecary. I need to withdraw some money before I head to the alley to shop."

Willow's ears hitched onto the word alley, and she knew that she had found her way in. While following these men to what looked like a rear exit, she briefly pondered if she should try to find this Tom who's book so helpfully showed her the way to the magic place, but then she shrugged it off. It's been in the non-magical world for years at least, he probably doesn't even miss it. The rear entrance opened up into a dead end alley, and one of the men pulled out a stick? no that must be a wand the letter spoke about, and tapped what looked to be a random pattern on the wall of bricks.

In a display that far outshone anything the Willow had ever seen, the bricks...unfolded themselves and opened to reveal what had to have been Diagon Alley. She was so awestruck, she almost missed her chance to enter behind them. She continued to follow behind the man that had mentioned Gringott's, correctly assuming that it was a bank of some sort. It was a bit of a walk, but all in the same alley, and it ended in front of a big beautiful building made out of white stone, that had steps leading up to the entrance. Also in front of the entrance were two heavily armoured and weaponed creatures. If the whole brick door trick didn't prove magic was real, these guys sure did.

Willow stopped just outside of the doors, looking at a poem enscribed to the left of the entrance. It was a catchy yet foreboding rhyme about how thievery is not tolerated. Good to know. She stepped forward to continue into the bank, but was abruptly stopped by a metallic clang. And the cause of that clang, which were two crossed axes, either one wielded by the created standing guard outside of the bank, each of which was glaring heavily at her.

"Thief!" One yelled. Shocking Willow, she was just thinking about seeing if she could get a loan from the bank to cover school costs. No ulterior motives at all.

"Grab her!" The other said, spurring along what must have been a highly practiced maneuver, seeing as how one moment she was outside of the bank with only two of these creatures, and in the next she was in a room one step off of a dungeon, at knife point from at least 8 of them. Today started out so promising.

"You will desist with this glamour immediately!" One yelled. He was standing behind a desk, and while he looked very much similar to all the other creatures, he seemed to be of a higher standing, if that's what all the extra gold he had on his person meant. Willow didn't know what to say, so she stayed quiet. "You filthy human, trying to sneak into Gringott's and steal our gold! This is goblin territory, we don't play by human rules here. Release this glamour!" Feeling the direness of this situation, she spoke.

"Sir," she started respectfully, "I don't know what you mean." She was calm as could be in the situation, but there was still a waver of fear in her voice. No helping that. The now categorizedgoblin was likely flummoxed by her calm demeanor and manners. The humans he dealt with were normally rude and arrogant.

"The glamour you wore, and are wearing still, to try and sneak into the bank." He clarified, no longer yelling, but still scowling.

"I'm not sure what a glamour is, but, I wasn't trying to sneak anywhere. I wanted to see if I could open an account, maybe get a loan to pay for tuition at Hogwarts? I followed a man in from the Leaky Cauldron, I've just found out about the magical world you see..." she explained, they just looked at her, she continued, "Um. Sometimes when I don't want to be noticed, I just disappear and my relatives forget about me for a while. Maybe that's what was happening? I swear, I'd never try to steal from your bank. I read the poem." She put her most earnest face on, which wasn't hard. She was telling the truth.

"Do you swear on your magic?"

"Um...yes?"

"Say it."

"I swear on my magic that I'd never try to steal from Gringott's." A golden light exploded from Willow and dispersed into the air. She was no longer held at knifepoint. "What was that?" Willow asked, breathlessly. She was ignored, in favor of the goblin in charge speaking to the other goblins in a rough, guttural language. The excess goblins quickly left the room.

"That was your magic, validating your claims." He looked at you as if he were studying something interesting. "Your a new witch you say? Going to Hogwarts this year?"

"Yes sir." She replied, nodding, thrown off balance by this whole strange situation.

"And you'd like to open a loan to pay for your schooling." She nodded again. He nodded to himself, gather papers together.

"Have a seat, young witch." Willow slowly moved to sit in the chair opposite the desk he was behind. "Now," he started, writing as he spoke, "how do you plan on paying back this loan you wish to receive?"

"Um, well so don't have any marketable skills yet, since I've never been to school, but I'm great and cleaning and cooking and gardening. If you have any jobs in those fields, I could work off my debt duringthe summers between classes. Then we could reassess after I've graduated and gotten a real job." She offerred, hopefully. He just stared at her. She took this as a queue to keep talking. "Actually, I was wondering about something. Do you happen to know any reputable detectives? I'm an orphan, you see, and I probably got my magic from someone in my family, right? I was wondering, maybe the detective can find some leads on any family of mine." The goblin smiled, and it was neither reassuring nor frightening, and it was accompanied by a laugh like tires on gravel.

"What a naive little witch. I'm wondering how it is that your first act of visiting the wizarding world resulted in you bargaining with a goblin. This is highly unorthodox." Willow frowned for the first time that day.

"I'm not naive. I haven't been for a long time. I'm desperate. There is a difference. And it's the knowledge that I literally have no other options. Humans, they're awful. They're liars. I know that. You. You're a different creature, a goblin, was it? And a banker as well. You have to be different. Hopefully a good different. Can we make a deal now?" He lifted an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised at her gall.

"Gringott's has a blood test. It links the customer's blood to whatever vault they may be in possession of, as well as any immediate family relations. It costs 3 galleons."

"What is the exchange rate between galleons and pounds?"

"One galleon equal five pounds."

"I have no money."

"That is clear. We'll make a deal. We'll do the test on Gringott's sickle, if you have an account attached to you, fine, the cost will come out of there. If not, you owe Gringott's three hours of work."

"What type of work?"

"Filing."

"First, what is your name?" He looked at her strangely again.

"Griphook."

"Agreed." He flashed another sharp toothed grin, and pulled a silver dagger and a blank piece of parchment from a drawer.

"Prick you finger on the blade and let no less that 3 drops of blood fall on the parchment." Willow did as he asked, and watched amazed as her blood disappeared into the paper. After several moments of watching the blank parchment, something began to change. Black writing because to surface on the page. After several minutes, it seemed like it was done. Griphook took the parchment to look at it. He immediately began the choke on air. Willow watched his reaction with interest. After a while, he slid the paper to her.

She started reading, and she choked too. This was way more that she could have dreamt up. It started with her name, her full name, Willow Eris Potter. Then her parents names, she finally knew their names, the word deceased sat heavily next to both. A god-father, but wait it said "Uncle by blood-magic" in parenthesis next to it. He was...incarcerated. That was it for family. He did say it was only immediate members. Farther down the parchment were inherited lordship, or ladyships rather. Heir Apparent for Houses of Peverell, Slytherin, Potter, Black. That seemed like a lot of work. Farther down were the vaults she inherited. For each house she was heir of, there were at least 3 vaults attached. And each vault had at least 6 figures in it, and accounting for the exchange rate, well, she was a multibillionaire. That was a bit much for her, she sat the parchment down without finishing reviewing it.

"Guess I don't need that loan now." She threw out there. She received what could have been a small smirk from the goblin. Either that, or indigestion. "Are there any other blood test Gringott's provides?"

"There is one more, it is a comprehensive family tree. Back five generations is 50 galleons, back ten is 100. Back to the beginning, 250."

"What do most people get?"

"Most people do not ask for family trees."

"What would you suggest then?"

"You're asking a goblin for advice?"

"You literally just increased my wealth exponentially because of your first suggestion. You're liable to be the only being I ever go to for advice. At least about money."

"Someone like you, with multiple lordships to your name and a pureblood background, would benefit from a complete family tree."

"And you're not just saying this to get more money from me?"

"What's a drop in a bucket?" He...joked? "Know your family, know your allies." He added.

"Okay then." I time he pulled out a thin book, empty, and Willow was instructed to let no less than 20 drops of blood. He closed the book when she was done.

"It will take time. Would you like you head to your vaults now?"

"Not yet, I still have more questions. If you'd be obliged?" He nodded his head once and steepled his long fingers. "I need to learn more about this world, what do you suggest."

"Reading." She almost cracked a smile.

"Could you recommend a reading list?"

"For a price."

"And how will I know these books will be helpful?"

"You need only ask. As I said, for the right price, and the right question, you'll receive what you need."

"Tricky. I like it."

Business was concluded within 4 hours of her dramatic entrance into the bank.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Griphook."

"May your gold over flow." She didn't know what to say to that, and resolved to get a book on goblin culture, but followed up on a question she'd been bursting to ask.

"Does Gringott's, and you in particular, take on interns?"

"I am assuming this is a muggle word equivalent to an apprentice?"

"Basically."

"And you, little witch, want to be a goblin's apprentice?"

"Yeah!" And without prompting she went into all the reasons why. "You're so cutthroat in your deals, but also fair if the person bargains back, I also felt like your comrades definitely knew how to use their weapons which was both awe inspiring and frightening. You seem to be extremely knowledgeable about, really everything that's happening in the magical world, and if all goblins are like you, then I really don't see anything wrong with modelling my behavior after goblins." That laugh like gravel was back.

"Ask again when your scrawny arms are able to lift a war axe, then we'll talk."

She left with a bigger on the inside bag full of galleons, exchanged pounds, a list of books to buy, her bank statement, her family tree, and a newspaper article from November 1st of 1987 that Griphook made her read before leaving. It outlined the death of two brave war heroes, the betrayal of a best friend, and the auspicious beginnings of a baby miracle. It was an awful and beautiful revelation.

Yoooo. I was on a role for that first night of making this story, but I had to stop here because I had work obscenely early in the morning and it was already after 1am. But the words just kept coming to me. Let's see if I can find them again, in the next installment of...it still doesn't have a name. Oh well. While this story is a crossover, I didn't want to gloss over Willow's background because it's important to how she views relationships and people in general. Also, I've always thought life would've been much easier for Harry had he taken up with the goblins, they're tenacious little bugger. It will start speeding up significantly when she gets to Hogwarts, I promise. I'll breeze through the school years and then the years of war afterwards. Then we'll get to the good stuff. We're on our way Klaus. You've been waitinga thousand years already, what's another decade or so?