Title: The Girl Who Lived

Summary: The killing curse leaves an odd after effect on Harry James Potter. Too bad no one ever told her about it. Fem!Harry/Draco, HPDM, DMHP.

Pairings: Ron/Hermione, fem!Harry/a lot of people, eventual Draco/fem!Harry, Neville/Ginny.

Rating: T. For now.

Author's Note: So this is my umpteenth's attempt at writing fic. This is unbeta'd and it was written at 4AM in the morning so the chances of numerous grammatical errors are quite possible. If you spot anything—and I mean anything!—let me know ASAP and I'll change it. Just so you know, Harry's gender change will be explained soon enough. Thanks for checking this out, I hope you enjoy! Reviews would be highly appreciated.

31st October, 1980

To Harry Potter, the boy who lived.

Witches and wizards throughout the world raised their glasses in a silent toast to one Harry James Potter: the boy who lived, the chosen one, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord. It was nighttime and the realization had sunk in. The celebration had almost vanished as people understood the situation. This boy, this young, innocent, uncorrupted boy would live with this burden, this pressure for the rest of his life.

"To Harry James Potter," A drunken wizard called out loudly. "May he live a long life."

A murmur of agreement rippled around the pub as everyone downed his or her drinks solemnly. After decades of terror the Dark Lord was gone—and they owed all of this to a little boy.

23rd June, 1991

It had been exactly three thousand, nine hundred and eighteen days since that fateful Halloween night and Privet Drive had not changed a single bit; especially not the fourth house along the road. Number Four Privet Drive was practically unchanged, the only variable being the ages of the residents.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

The sharp, incessant tapping woke Harry up with a start. "I'm up." Harry grumbled in an annoyed tone.

"Hurry up now." Petunia's voice was cold and shrill. "The bacon's already cooking. Don't you dare let it burn."

Harry groaned loudly and rubbed the dirt off her shoulders.

"What was that?" Petunia asked sharply.

"Oh nothing." Harry replied casually. "I'll be there in a minute."

She heard the kitchen door slam shut and knew that Aunt Petunia was no longer hovering near her room. Carefully, she changed into more acceptable clothing—as acceptable as Dudley's shrunk clothing could be that is—doing her best not to hit her head against the low ceiling.

The scent of cooking bacon hit her nostrils as she stepped into the kitchen. Making a beeline for the stove, Harry poked the cooking food to see how far it was done. She could hear Dudley whining about his presents and tuned his voice out to the best of her ability.

'How could I have forgotten?' She chided herself mentally. Dudley's birthday meant that she got to be shipped off to Mrs. Figg's cat-infested house for the day while Dudley and his friend, Piers, could enjoy their day somewhere exciting. Though she didn't exactly mind. Mrs. Figg was a dear and more often than not, she'd let Harry wander around just as long as she didn't go too far. Most of the time, Harry would go to the public library which conveniently happened to be a ten minute walk from her house. She'd spend the entire day there until she knew she had to come back. For some reason, she always knew when the Dursleys would be returning. It was just one of those unexplainable phenomena that happened to her every so often.

Humming a catchy song she had overheard on the radio once, she transferred the bacon from the frying pan to the plates set neatly nearby. Balancing all four plates on her arm with impressive skill, she set them on the table.

She pulled up a chair and poked her bacon while immersed in deep thought. Would Mrs. Figg's let her go to the library today? Harry pondered over this for a moment for there was something she really needed to look up. Her thought was interrupted by Dudley's sniffles. With a disgusted look on her face, she looked up, wondering about the cause of this possibly unnecessary commotion.

"But I don't want her to come!" Dudley was screaming hysterically. "She always ruins everything!"

Harry perked up at this. Going to the zoo—even though it was with the Dursleys—was definitely something she wanted to do. There was something that she had been itching to test and it involved snakes. What better place to test something involving snakes than a zoo?

"Vernon," Petunia said reluctantly. "I don't think we have any other choice. We clearly can't leave her here."

Harry was ecstatic. She had never felt such joy in her life! She was going to go to the zoo! Oh she couldn't believe this! Her heart leapt with excitement when Vernon muttered in agreement.

"Aunt Petunia," She said, her voice rasping with contained excitement. "May I be excused?"

Petunia's dismissive nod sent Harry leaping. She ran out the door and locked herself into the cupboard. Pulling back the make-shift mattress on the floor, she eased open three of the floorboards. Inside the hollow area lay a book titled "The Supernatural Guide to the Mundane: Snakes." She flipped through the pages impatiently until her eyes landed on chapter twelve: Talking to Snakes. Her mind flashed back to how she had acquired this precious book, the only thing in this house that she could call truly her own.

Mrs. Walters was possibly the busiest woman in Surrey today as she scurried around her office. A large stack of books lay on the counter, ready to be disposed of. Hardly anyone borrowed those books. In fact, they had been untouched for the past decade. She tripped over a wire and clutched her chair to keep herself from falling over. This was when she noticed the young girl, no older than seven holding and reading a book that was twice the size of her head.

"Can I help you, sweetheart? Do you need to find someone?"

The child looked up at her and Mrs. Walters found herself astonished at the mature look in her bottle-green eyes.

"No thank you." She said cordially. "But I was wondering if I could borrow this? I don't have a library card though…"

"Oh but if you have your mummy with you right now you could—"

"My mother's dead." She said in such a matter-of-fact voice that Mrs. Walters found herself reeling in shock. "So's my dad actually. And my guardians are…" She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "At work." She finished in an uncertain tone. "I really do want to read this book and I promise I'll bring it back. Maybe if you write my name down or something…" She trailed off, a hopeless look forming in her eye.

Mrs. Walters' heart fell in sympathy. Here was this child, no older than seven and she had lost so much. All she wanted was a book and she couldn't have it.

"I'm so sorry sweetie but—oh hang on." The librarian narrowed her eyes and read the title. The Supernatural Guide to—oh! "Oh it's that book!" Mrs. Walters smiled kindly. "You know dear, you can keep that book if you want."

The sparkle in the emerald-eyed child made her smile.

"Really?"

"Really."

"And I won't get in trouble or anything? At all?"

"No, dearie. It's all yours!"

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!"

Mrs. Walters smiled and watched the child skip away towards the closest reading chair.

Harry had discovered her odd ability on her seventh birthday. She was allowed to wander outside on her birthdays and Harry took the opportunity to explore every inch of the neighborhood. On her seventh birthday, Harry had accidentally fallen into a pit. A pit with a vicious looking black snake. She was frozen in shock.

"Prey."

She heard a voice hiss. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at the snake in front of her.

"Foooood." It hissed, moving forward.

"Stop!" She had managed to gasp out. The snake seemingly paused.

"You speak the noble tongue of Salazar?"

Harry was speechless. She was talking to a bloody snake.

"Snakes can't talk…" She whispered.

"And yet you are talking to me. You do not know your ability yet, it seems."

"This isn't normal." Was Harry's intelligent response.

"That's because you are not normal."

Harry didn't reply. There was a prolonged silence before she managed to squeeze out a question. "Are you going to eat me?"

The snake laughed. It laughed!

"No," It said. "I will not harm one who speaks the noble tongue—it would be a crime to waste such potential."

"You're letting me go?"

"Yes."

Harry had never run faster in her life.

Chapter Twelve: Talking to Snakes. Her eyes scanned the page greedily. She felt giddy with excitement. After three years of wondering, she could finally have a risk-free encounter with a snake. She was neither confident nor stupid enough to pull off a reenactment of her seventh birthday.

The doorbell rung thrice.

"HARRY!" Petunia called from the kitchen.

Placing the book back in her hiding spot, Harry left her sanctuary. She opened the door to reveal none other than Piers Polkiss.

"Potter." He greeted coldly.

"Polkiss." She replied in the same tone, stepping aside to let the boy in. "They're in the kitchen."

Piers nodded and left without another word.

Three hours later, Harry found herself at the zoo with her so-called-family. She was licking a lemon ice lolly and walking with a small skip in her steps. The first place Dudley had wanted to visit was the snake display. A smug smile found Harry's face as they entered the room.

Holy cow.

That was the first coherent thought in Harry's mind. She knew there were a lot of snakes in this zoo—she'd read all about it—but this was just ridiculous. Dudley wanted to look at all of them (in order, to Vernon's horror). Harry could not complain. She made a beeline for the last snake in the display. She leaned against the glass and took a deep breath. The snake was asleep.

"Hello." She tried. The snake didn't respond. She thought back to the book sitting under her bed. Most people don't realize they're speaking a different language when talking to snakes. In fact, one might believe he or she is still talking in their native tongue.

"Hello." She tried once more but this time, there was a hissing quality to her voice. Her heart leapt in excitement as the snake stirred. "I'm sorry to wake you up but I really need some help."

The snake was fully alert now.

"You speak the noble tongue of Salazar?" It hissed, sounding surprised.

"Who is Salazar? I've heard of this bloke before."

"Salazar is my master. He is my master and his master and her master. Salazar is the master of all the snakes. He is a founder and the leader of all Slytherins and ancestor to He Who Must Not Be Named."

Harry stared at the snake blankly. Sorting through the questions in her mind, she decided it would be wise to ask them one by one. "What is Slytherin?" She began slowly.

If a snake's eyes could widen, it would have done so right now. "You speak the noble tongue but have never heard of Slytherin? That is bizarre. If that is the situation, I regret to inform you that it is not my place to tell you this. If you truly speak the tongue, you will find out in due time."

Harry grumbled. "Who's He Who Must Not Be Named?"

The snake shifted a little bit and it seemed to glance at the girl's forehead. "That too is something you must find out for yourself."

"You're not much help, are you?" Harry asked, exasperated.

The snake ignored her comments. "That boy," it motioned towards Dudley. "You know him?"

"Yes. He's my cousin. A right git he is too."

The snake chuckled. "He is a child."

"Well, yes." Said Harry. "He's eleven. And I'm ten."

"But you are not a child."

"But… I'm ten!" Harry protested, confused.

"Age is merely a number. It does not reflect one's personality or maturity. It's well possible for a ten year old to be emotionally leveled with a twenty one year old."

"And you think I'm like a twenty one year old?" Harry asked with an egotistic smirk.

"No, I would say twenty two." The snake replied in good humor.

Harry chuckled pleasantly only to pause uncertainly.

"What is wrong, child?" The snake asked.

"I just realized… this is the best conversation I've ever had."

"You do not talk to your cousin?"

"He's a git so no."

"Your friends?"

"I…" Harry hesitated. "I don't have very many friends. My cousin… he tells everyone that I am a freak. That's usually good enough reason for most ten year olds to avoid me like the plague."

"I see." The snake said in a disapproving voice. "That is too bad, you are a charming young girl."

Harry smiled, a light blush dusting her cheeks. "I probably should go now." She said reluctantly. "They're heading this way and frankly, I don't want to give them another reason to dub me as a freak."

"Of course. Goodbye Harry James Potter. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Harry blinked in shock. "How do you know my name?"

"You will find out soon."

Harry blinked once more before easing back into a grin. "Of course. It was good talking to you, err… Mr. Snake?"

"Likewise, chosen one."

"I suppose that's another thing I'll find out soon?" Harry asked quietly.

The snake nodded and curled up. With a farewell wink, it closed its eyes and fell asleep, leaving Harry there.

The rest of the day went uneventfully. Dudley kicked and screamed about how boring the snakes were and they quietly moved on to the next exhibit. Harry noticed Piers giving her odd looks now and then and wondered what that was all about. As they were about to leave the zoo, Harry stood in front of the snake exhibit once more, wondering if she should go in.

"Potter."

Piers' voice made Harry turn around in surprise.

"Polkiss." She greeted, nodding. "How can I help you?"

He said nothing. A minute passed.

Harry merely frowned and began to walk away, feeling extremely awkward.

"I saw you."

Harry paused. "You saw me what, Polkiss?" She asked, annoyed.

"You were talking." He said, staring at Harry with a curious expression. "To that snake. You were smiling and laughing and talking."

Harry froze in alarm. "You're f-f-funny, P-Polkiss." She stuttered out unconvincingly.

"You suck at lying." Polkiss said. "You were obviously talking to that snake. Why were you doing that? It's not like it could hear you or anything. But you were laughing at it—like a freak. No wonder you don't have any friends."

Something snapped inside Harry at that moment. She stormed up to Piers and grabbed him by the collar.

"Oh I don't know Piers." She said in a hateful tone. "It's not like I'll ever have any friends. No. They all think I'm a freak. Because of you and your friend."

Piers trembled a little and opened his mouth to say something. But Harry didn't care. Her hand clenched into a fist and she firmly punched Piers right in the middle of his face.

She did not notice Dudley's screams and Vernon's accusations. She didn't listen to Petunia's cold voice and she didn't pay attention when she was shoved into the car. She didn't care that she had to go to bed without food for the next week. She could only feel fury.