DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I make no money from this. All song lyrics belong solely to their writers and performing artists.

WARNINGS: This takes all cannon and twists hard to the left. This is seriously AU, and involves a fem!Harry. If either of these things bother you, READ NO FURTHER. This also uses many well-used fanfiction tropes. Any simularities to other fanfictions is not purposeful.

Chapter 1

Twenty three and so tired of life Such a shame, to throw it all away The images grow darker, still Could I have been anyone other than me?Dave Mathews Band - Dancing NanciesHarry Potter was tired. After the defeat of Voldemort, things were good - for about two months. Voldemort had been attacking muggles left, right, and center. The Millennial Bridge attack was the final straw. The country was crying out for answers. The Queen and the Prime Minister were in the know, but they were keeping to the Statute of Secrecy. Unfortunately, a muggleborn that was disenchanted with the magical world and his inability to advance in their society had spilled the secret.

He had joined the Military after Hogwarts. ( What else could he do with no formal education? ) He went as high up as he could go, and started laying out the whole situation. At first he was scoffed at, but after turning the table into a tiger, (complete with roar) they could hardly dispute it. Once the Military knew the reasons behind all those unexplainable deaths and disappearances, everything went, quite frankly, to shit. Maybe he didn't mean to bring another war upon a magical society still reeling from the one that just ended, but he did.

Once the secret was spilled, magicals became hunted. Young muggleborns seen doing accidental magic were taken to "Adjustment Camps", which were nothing less than concentration camps - human experimentation and all. Diagon Ally was bombed during the mid-day rush, and Hogsmeade was reduced to ash. Rune Masters were creating better wards, but it was too little, too late. The collapse of the British Magical World started a cascade of other countries magical societies being outed.

Magical creatures were being hunted for trophies. Every witch, wizard or creature was on the run. They had all scattered to try to save themselves. Hogwarts' wards had been badly damaged due to the war, and it had destoyed the same day that Hogsmeade fell. This completely demoralized the magical community. Many people were killed, including Neville and Ginny who were helping in the rebuilding. Harry had been at Gringotts trying to salvage his relationship with the Goblins, and get his accounts in order. This was the first sign that things had gone wrong with the muggles. They had had no idea that this was their "Pearl Harbor", this was the day that would "live in infamy".

Harry, who had never had good relations with muggles, came to despise them. He knew intellectually that there were good muggles out there, but not one muggle had helped him when he was suffering at the Dursleys. Now, those same muggles were rounding up magicals in pens, doing God knows what to them after. He felt he had a right to despise them. He also became suspicious of muggleborns. Someone had to cast those anti-disparation wards in those pens, didn't they?

The purebloods were amoung the first to be eliminated. Their inability to pass as muggles was their undoing. The M.O.M. was bombed during a Wisengamut meeting, killing hundreds. The muggles didn't care if there was collateral damage, as long as magicals were killed. Vigilantes were tying suspected magicals up, and burning them at the stake. Just as in the last witch hunts, they mainly were killing other muggles, but they occasionally got a magical. The entire world was in chaos, and there was no end in sight.

So, yes. Harry Potter was tired. He was sealed up in Grimmauld Place all alone. All of his friends were dead. Some, like Charlie and Bill were unaccounted for. They lived in other countries, and communication had been cut off. (By that he meant that most owls were almost or totally extinct. They were killed on sight, whether they were carrying mail or not.) Harry had lost all hope. The magical world that he had bled for, died for, was gone. He decided that after his meager food supplies ran out, he would not risk his life restocking them. How poetic for the starved child to die a starved adult? The first few days were hard, your body goes into panic, making you extra hungry so that you'll eat to survive. It slowly became easier, he could feel himself slipping away, becoming less substantial and more ethereal. His mind drifted. What would have happened if he had been born earlier, stopped the war sooner? What if he had been knowledgable about the magical world and his place in society? Was there anything that could have changed this outcome? He closed his eyes for the last time,- praying for the magic left in this world instead of himself- and that made all the difference.

Harry opened his eyes, and became sure he was hallucinating. He was laid down in a field of flowers, (Tulips if he was not mistaken) and he felt better than he could ever remember feeling. He took in a deep breath, smelling the flowers around him. He exhaled with a sigh. Was this Heaven? "This is not Heaven, child." A woman's voice said. Startled, Harry looked around until he found the owner of the voice. She was exceptionally beautiful, with platinum blonde hair, and emerald green eyes. - His eyes. She was draped in a Grecian-style, white dress. She had high cheekbones, full lips that were smiling at him, and her hair fell in gentle curls.

"I'm sorry, Miss. If this isn't Heaven, then where am I? And who are you?" Harry asked. "Now that is the question, isn't it?" The Lady said with humor. Only, Harry wasn't laughing. He had had enough of vague, mystical double talk to last him a lifetime! If Dumbledore had been up front from the begining, none of this may have happened! "I am no Albus Dumbledore, I assure you. Don't even get me started on that self righteous arsehole! My name is Hecate, and I am the Goddess of Magic. All magic. The world seems to have forgotten that we must have balance in all things. But I digress. You are currently in my realm, on the Plaine of the Unborn. All of the souls of children born with my gift rest here, until they are born in their respective worlds." Harry was bemused by her small rant. Until he wondered "Why am I here?"

"Harry Potter, you are amoung my favorite mortals, my Chosen. Your life was not supposed to be this way. Your Fate has been meddled with, but no more! I have chosen to give you a second chance at life. You will be reborn as the daughter of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black-Potter." Harry was shocked. "I'll be my father's relative? And what do you mean daughter?" He asked incredulously. "What do you know of your family tree, Harry?" Hecate asked. "I know that my Father was James Potter, and his parents were Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. I also saw a Dorea Black and a Charlus Potter on the Black tapestry. That's about it." Harry said, realising that his knowledge of his origins was pathetic. "Charlus Potter was Fleamont's older brother. He married Dorea Black, and his beliefs would classify as gray. In your timeline, their son died as a toddler. Dorea was pregnant at the time, and the grief caused her to miscarry. She was unable to bare anymore children. They were killed in 1971, the year your Father started Hogwarts. They were killed by Voldemort for not joining his cause. That made Fleamont Lord Potter, and put your father and you in line for the title." Hecate said.

"Dorea Potter was carrying a girl when she miscarried. I am going to replace you with that child, and ensure that you are born heathy. You will retain your memories. They will appear in flashes, like visions. You must try to achieve balance in the magical world. Getting rid of Voldemort is just the begining." She warned. "Do not carry the prejudices that you have in this life, over to the next." "What prejudices?" Harry asked indignantly. Hecate gave him look, while raising an eyebrow. "That "all but light magic is bad", that "all Slytherins are evil". Ring any bells?" Hecate said wryly. Harry flushed, guiltily. He knew he had been led down a particular path by Dumbldore, and he had swallowed it all hook, line and sinker. "I won't. I will try to keep an open mind, but I detest muggles. So if you also mean that or my distrust of muggleborns, you should send someone else." He said strongly.

Hecate laughed. "No, you'll fit right in. Time to go, my childe. May you reach your full potential." She said, then touched his forehead. Before Harry could ask what she meant, he was engulfed in golden light. He felt as if his soul was being cleansed, and then he knew no more.

"Good luck Harry Potter. Magic's fate rests in your hands."