So here's the first chapter. Ali: Ha. Yeah, I imagined Lily's family had a habit of naming their girls after flowers...and I think it works for a wizarding name as well. Still, Chrys is a lot less of a mouthful. Thanks for reviewing!

I don't own Harry Potter. Most plot lines and characters have been simply re-imaged through Chrys' eyes. JK Rowling was the one with all the masterful creativity.

Edit: Hi again, I'm going back and posting an edited version of this from over on my a03. Feel free to continue reviewing/commenting on either site!

The Potter Twins and the Sorcerer's Stone:

Chapter One: Of Snakes and Punishments.

As usual, Chrys had spent the night in and out of sleep. Daylight slipped under the door, but Chrys was still halfway gone. Her eyelids flickered as she watched the spider on the ceiling add a few new lines to its web. The spinning and glinting was hypnotic. Then something collided with her leg. She looked down and found the culprit—her brother's foot. Chrys frowned and kicked at Harry's side.

"Wuzzit?" Harry mumbled as he woke with a jolt.

"You kicked me," Chrys informed him. It was hard to glare at him when he was blinking up at her with those bright green eyes of his. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand even more on end-if that were possible.

"Oh... sorry 'bout that Chrys. I was dreaming..."

"What about?" Chrys flipped over onto her stomach, leaning on her elbows.

"Well, there was this flying motorcycle," he began. Chrys raised her eyebrows. "I know, weird." He frowned. "And even weirder, I don't think it's the first time I've had that dream-" The sound of rapping knuckles cut him off. 'Uh-oh,' Harry mouthed as their Aunt Petunia's shrill voice drilled at the door.

"You two, up! Now!" She shrieked. Harry and Chrys cringed in unison. Their aunt's voice was not a pleasant sound to be greeted by. "Are you awake yet?" She pestered.

"Almost," Harry called back.

"Well hurry up. I want the bacon cooked and the table set. Everything has to be perfect for Duddy's birthday," she told them. Chrys heard the sound of her aunt's retreating footsteps—now that was a delightful noise. Harry made a face that said he'd forgotten all about the momentous occasion of their cousin's eleventh birthday. Chrys mimed gagging and Harry grinned, flicking a spider off a pair of socks.

"We've got a new web," Chrys told him, gesturing not too far up at the ceiling. Even at her 148 cm, Chrys had to crouch to get through the doorway of their bedroom (well, it was more of a cupboard really) under the stairs.

"That's nice," Harry said distractedly. He yawned. "Is it my turn for the bathroom?" Chrys nodded, handing him a reasonably fresh set of clothes.

"You've got the bacon right? Aunt Petunia will kill me if I burn it."

"If you burn it again," Harry corrected knowledgably. Chrys did not dispute this. Her cooking abilities (or lack thereof) had set off the fire alarm more than once.

"Off you go," she said instead, pushing him out the door and shutting it behind him. Once she was dressed, she headed to the kitchen.

Harry was all ready standing in front of the stove, poking at the bacon with a spatula.

"Brush your hair!" Uncle Vernon said, glancing up at her as she walked in.

"Good morning to you too," Chrys muttered under her breath. "I'm surprised he doesn't know by now that our hair is completely untamable," She whispered to Harry as she got out a stack of twins both had scruffy hair, though hers was dusty brown and his was black as ink.

"It's just the way we are," Harry agreed. "Uncle Vernon can bark about haircuts all he wants, but the hair has a mind of its own."

"A very stubborn mind." Chrys yawned again. She slipped a dish under Uncle Vernon's newspaper, he glared, she smiled brightly in defense. He shook his head and went back to his paper. Chrys' stomach growled as the scent of bacon wafted over to her. She leaned over Harry's shoulder and sniffed as he plopped it onto a plate. "Do you think I'll get a piece?" She asked him wistfully.

"Half if you're lucky," Harry said after thinking it over. "Aunt Petunia counted them when I started cooking." He picked up the carton of eggs.

"Well, you can have my half if I ever receive it," she told him, pinching his skinny side as she passed by with the silverware.

"Chrys!" He warned, as she jostled the eggs. She gave him an apologetic grin. "Besides," Harry added as she came back, leaning on the counter to she fold some napkins. "You need to eat too." She waved his concern away. She was well aware that the two of them were skinnier than toothpicks. Both agreed that being squashed up in a cupboard did nothing good to their all ready diminutive statures, but Harry tended to be more self-conscious about his appearance.

Their glasses (the cheapest brand, which Aunt Petunia had only agreed to buy after their teacher pointed out the squinting at the blackboard was getting to be a bit much) didn't help. The out of fashion circular lenses had gotten plenty of pointing and giggles sent her way over the years, but at least hers weren't held together with tape. Harry's glasses hadn't stood up well to Dudley's habit of punching him in the face. Luckily Harry was an ace sprinter. Chrys was an average runner, but then again in the house she didn't have as much to run from. Dudley mostly pulled her hair, which was annoying, but not as bad as the possibility of a broken nose. It seemed, as far as girls were concerned, Dudley's bullying had never leveled up from a toddler's actions. Speaking of girls, Harry seemed to think his almond shaped green eyes were a bit too feminine. When Chrys said she thought his eyes were pretty, he rolled them and told her she'd proven his point. Apparently he preferred her hazel eyes, which according to him were 'more manly.' Chrys had spent the entire day flexing her non-existent muscles at him.

The only physical trait Harry liked about himself was the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Chrys was not nearly as found of the identical mark on her brow. When they were younger she refused to look in a mirror, because that scar gave her the shivers every time. There was something off about it. Harry didn't disagree, but the most Aunt Petunia would say when asked, was they'd gotten the scars during the car accident that had killed their parents.

"It's not likely for people to get the same exact injuries during an accident," Chrys had pointed out. Harry tilted his head.

"Hmm... unlikely, but no impossible, I mean we're living proof." He paused. "Though I guess Aunt Petunia could be lying."

Chrys nodded. "I wouldn't put it past her. Anyway, for all we know they could just be really odd birthmarks."

"Could be," Harry agreed, rubbing his forehead. "We know so little about ourselves that anything could be possible." Chrys had asked Aunt Petunia several times about the enigma that was their parents. Aunt Petunia reminded her with a sharp slap that asking questions was not allowed.

"If anything is possible, then anything is possible," Chrys reasoned. Harry gave her a 'well, duh!' look. Chrys coughed. "I mean, good things are possible too Harry."

"Good things like stealing Dudley's licorice?" He teased her. Chrys' obsession for the sweet would never rest.

She bumped lightly against his shoulder. "Or something even better."

Harry gasped theatricality. "Something better than licorice—impossible!"

Chrys laughed. "Well I think we're good looking," she said presently, patting Harry on the shoulder.

"Sure, Chrys."

Harry switched off the stove.

"We've got a very special day planed for our baby angel!" Aunt Petunia squealed from out in the hallway. Dudley grunted in return.

"Pig in a wig alert," Harry whispered as their blubbery, watery eyed, thick haired cousin waddled into the room. Chrys suppressed a snort, and grabbed the plate of bacon, placing it on the table before Aunt Petunia could complain. Harry did the same with the eggs. Petunia however, seemed more occupied with watching Dudley struggle to count his presents. With some difficulty, Harry and Chrys squeezed into their seats. Between the gigantic stack of presents, Vernon's bulk, and Dudley butt, Chrys was surprised anything else fit in the room.

"Thirty-six," Dudley finally figured out, his brow furrowing. He looked over at his parents. "That's two less than last year." Chrys rolled her eyes.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from mummy and daddy," Aunt Petunia pointed out.

"Alright, thirty-seven." Dudley's face screwed up. Harry and Chrys exchanged a look, sensing the oncoming storm of a patented Dudley temper tantrum-and started gobbling up their food as fast as their forks could go, hoping to finish before Dudley upturned the table, which was something that had happened on more than one occasion. Aunt Petunia rushed to the rescue.

"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today," she said hurriedly. "How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?"

"So, I'll have thirty... thirty..." Dudley's face was red with effort.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," Aunt Petunia informed him. Dudley relaxed into his chair.

"Oh, alright then." He dragged the largest present over and began tearing off the paper.

The phone rang and Aunt Petunia popped up to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap his presents.

Chrys fiddled with her napkin, and then smoothed it out, pulling a pen from behind her ear. She doodled a pig in a wig, a long necked horse, a no neck walrus, and two handsome stick bugs sitting down at a table for breakfast. She slipped the drawing over to her brother.

Harry laughed so hard they almost missed Aunt Petunia's announcement as she reentered the room. Apparently Mrs. Figg had injured her leg and wouldn't be able to care for the twins while Dudley was out for his birthday celebrations.

"I wish I felt worse about her getting hurt," Harry whispered. Chrys shrugged. Mrs. Figg was a nice enough lady, but she was almost as obsessed with cats as Chrys was with licorice. Except Chrys' licorice disappeared fairly quickly. Mrs. Figg's cats stuck around, and sat on Chrys' head. Chrys spent most of her visits trying to shoo the felines away. Harry, being too polite to say 'no' was constantly handed cat pictures to look at. Both twins had to negotiate for a longer bath time, as they almost always came home smelling strongly of boiled cabbage.

Needless to say, the unpleasantness of Mrs. Figg's house made it the perfect place to ditch the twins whenever the Dursleys wanted to go off and have some fun.

Unfortunately, that plan had been quashed for today.

Chrys squirmed in her chair as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia discussed alternative options. Each idea was more horrible than the last. Harry suggested aloud that the two of them could just be left in the house. Aunt Petunia shook her head, lips pursed like she'd just sucked on a lemon. She did not want to leave the twins alone, and come back to find the house in ruins.

"It's not like we'd blow the house up," Harry protested. Chrys considered this. Actually, it was entirely possible she'd make something explode if she was left alone in the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia suggested they leave the twins in the car.

"Do you think they'd even crack a window?" Harry whispered. Chrys felt her nose wrinkle.

"It's not like we're dogs, Harry!"

Anyway, according to Uncle Vernon, his car was too shiny and new to have his unkempt niece and nephew muck it up.

Dudley screwed up his face and wailed. Aunt Petunia flung her skinny arms around him. Harry shook his head. "I don't know why she still buys that."

Chrys agreed. "Yeah, Dudley isn't really much of an actor."

A distraction, in the form of Piers Polkiss walked through the door. Chrys shuddered as Piers gave her a rat like smile. Unlike Dudley, Piers had no problem with hitting girls.

Dudley stopped crying immediately. Harry scoffed quietly. Mrs. Polkiss squinted around the table. "Petunia, Vernon." She nodded at them in turn. "I do hope the children enjoy their time at the zoo." Aunt Petunia blinked as Mrs. Polkiss left.

Chrys pretended to wash the dishes so she could listen to the rest of her aunt and uncle's conversation.

"Mrs. Polkiss seemed to expect those two to come as well," Aunt Petunia said in a hushed voice. She and Uncle Vernon were always concerned about how they would be viewed by 'normal society.'

"Well, unless we can think of somewhere else to put them, I guess they'll have to come along," Vernon grumbled.

Chrys gave Harry a thumbs up.

Before they left, Uncle Vernon pulled the twins aside. He spewed out a warning not to cause any funny business, or else he'd enact his favorite punishment of locking them in the cupboard with no food for an extended period of time. Harry assured him they would behave as Chrys nodded furtively. Uncle Vernon was not one to bluff.

He gave them one last suspicious glance before squeezing himself into the driver's seat.

Harry and Chrys waited on the lawn as Aunt Petunia fussed over Dudley, and Piers watched, sneering.

"…No one ever believes me," Harry sighed. Chrys gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"I do," she told him. He glanced at her, and she tapped her chin, pretending to ponder. "Though, you are like a magnet for trouble. I read this thing on Norse mythology the other day. There's this god of Mischief-Loki."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I glanced through the book. Doesn't he get snake venom dripped in his eyes?" He recalled.

Chrys applauded his memory. "Yep."

"Well then excuse me if I don't find the comparison flattering."

"You're excused."

"Though, strange things do happen to us," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Especially when we get into a tight spot," Chrys added. Over the years the twins had been almost magically saved by one odd occurrence or another.

There were some silly things, like the time Aunt Petunia had shaved Harry's head, all except the fringe, making him look like a rather disgruntled monk. In a true testament to the speed of their hair growth, Harry's hair was returned to its former shaggy glory overnight. Chrys laughed hysterically throughout the entire thing, but Aunt Petunia seemed frightened, and Harry was locked in the cupboard for an entire week. Chrys slept out on the sitting room couch, sneaking out at the middle of the night to slip self-made comics under the door so he wouldn't die of boredom.

Another time Aunt Petunia ordered the twins to wash Uncle Vernon's car before he returned home from a business trip the next day. Harry was sick, so Chrys worked all by herself, scrubbing as vigorously as she could, but the bird poop stains just wouldn't budge. Chrys started cleaning the inside, thinking she could at least do that, and ended up falling asleep on the floor. When she woke up the car was perfectly clean, but had somehow turned a brilliant shade of pink. Chrys had gotten a week and a half for that. Uncle Vernon thought Chrys had stolen some paint (he knew she didn't have the money) and given the exterior of his precious car a makeover. Chrys was just as baffled by it as everyone else was, but at least Harry managed to sneak some licorice through the vents.

In a more serious turn of events, when Harry was running from Dudley's gang one day, innocently trying not to get pummeled, he suddenly found himself on the roof of the school building.

That very same day, Chrys' head was about to be shoved into a toilet by the equally vicious female version of Dudley's gang, when the pipes promptly burst and soaked all of her tormentors to the bone.

Harry insisted that the wind had caught him and carried him up there. Chrys argued that she was not responsible for the school's shoddy plumbing. The fact was though, as skinny as he was, Harry was not nearly light enough to be lifted by the wind alone, and while the other girls had been spewed by who knows what, Chrys had stayed completely dry.

As the Dursleys' public reputation had been damaged, that day brought on the worst punishment they'd had to this day. Chrys thought her ears were still sore from all the shouting.

Though, there had also been occasional strokes of good luck. Aunt Petunia had a horrible sense of fashion and always tried to force the ugliest items of clothing onto Harry and Chrys. Once she wanted Harry to wear this orange puffball sweater, and Chrys to wear a high collared, scratchy wool dress. Both items shrunk smaller and smaller until they would only fit actual dolls, rather than the human sized ones Aunt Petunia seemed to think the twins were. Aunt Petunia blamed this on the wash, so there had been no cupboard punishment that time.

Chrys hoped they would get off scot-free this time as well. There was not a great likelihood of this, as the twins were excellent at wearing down Uncle Vernon's all ready thin patience. Still, if Chrys wasn't optimistic about her chances, who would be?

The trip started out with moderate success. Chrys sat next to Harry, who sat next to Dudley. The poor twins were squished up against the wall so tightly, Chrys was surprised they didn't mash together into one pancake flat person.

Then Harry had to go make it even worse by bringing up his dream about a flying motorcycle. Uncle Vernon hated motorcycles, and loathed the idea of them flying even more. Chrys sighed as he bellowed at them. Harry must have momentarily forgotten that Uncle Vernon would break their eardrums with his disapproval any time she or Harry brought up anything even slightly out of the ordinary.

When they arrived at the zoo, Chrys stared with sad wide eyes at Dudley and Piers' enormous chocolate ice creams. The nice vendor lady seemed to notice, because she smiled down at the twins and asked which ice creams they would like. Aunt Petunia hurriedly bought them the cheapest thing, one lemon ice each, so that no one would stare.

Harry and Chrys hung back from the rest of the group, happily munching on their ice pops. "It's not bad," Harry said appreciatively.

"And the animals look amazing," Chrys added, fingers itching to sketch their likenesses. She'd ran out of napkins though, so she'd have to wait until lunch when she could stock up again.

"Definitely." Harry pointed at a gorilla. "Hey look, that one's like Dudley, only not blonde." Chrys giggled.

During lunch Chrys sketched out as much as she could from memory, stuffing her pockets with as many napkins as could fit for later. Aunt Petunia gave her a disapproving stare (her normal look when studying Chrys) but was cut off from saying anything when Dudley fussed loudly about his second dessert of the day not having enough cream on it. So Dudley got a third dessert, and Harry and Chrys eagerly shared the rest of his second one.

By the time they reached the reptile house, Harry and Chrys were beaming ear to ear. Chrys tried to peek around Dudley's bulk to see the snake he was interested in. It was a Boa Constrictor, the largest, strongest snake ever. At the moment it appeared to be snoring away. Dudley was rather rude to the snake, but he left quickly, which was the best anyone could ever hope for from Dudley.

"He must be lonely," Harry murmured, staring through the glass. Chrys reached over and squeezed his hand. As many times as they'd been locked up, at least she had Harry to keep her company.

"Tough luck, mate," she told the snake. "Sorry you have to go through this kind of thing."

It stirred.

The snake stretched its neck, rising up, up... Chrys stared. She swore the snake had just yawned. Then, unmistakably, it winked. She looked at Harry, to see if he was getting this. Harry glanced around and then winked back at the snake.

"There's no need to apologize," the snake hissed, soothing and soft. "I'm used to it."

"Still," Harry replied, as if he spoke to snake's on a regular basis. "It must get frustrating." The snake nodded.

"Would you mind terribly if I drew you?" Chrys asked quickly. "I'd like to have something to remember you by."

The snake smiled without lips. "I don't mind at all...in fact, that sounds quite nice." Chrys rummaged through her pockets for a remaining napkin. Harry continued to have a well-mannered conversation with their new Brazilian friend as Chrys inked the soft curves of his outline.

Suddenly Piers' twitchy face appeared out of nowhere. "Dudley! Mr. Dursely, come quick!" Dudley rushed as fast as his fat body could move. Once he caught sight of the snake he shoved Chrys out of the way, elbowing Harry in the chest as he went. Harry fell roughly to the hard ground. Chrys gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to leap at Dudley so she could lean down to see if Harry was alright. And then she froze. The light in the Boa Constrictor's enclosure flickered and then switched off completely. Dudley and Piers pressed their noses against the glass, trying to see past the darkness.

Chrys helped Harry to his feet. He was glaring at Dudley, when the glass inexplicably flashed out of existence. Chrys gasped. The boys screamed and flapped their arms, but it was too late. The bullies fell with a soft thud into the moss and branches of the snake's habitat.

More screams joined the boys' shouts as the snake slithered out of his cage. People scrambled out of the way, only turning back to take a picture. Bright flashes went off, illuminating the 'no flash' signs. Not that the zookeeper had time to call them out on this. He was too busy staring at the place where the glass used to be.

"Thank you," the snake hissed happily to the twins, before snapping his jaws playfully at the bullies ankles and then slithering away. Chrys burst into laughter.

She stopped laughing immediately when Uncle Vernon turned to look at them. Even in the dim lighting she could see the angry splotches forming on his face. The zoo administrators apologized extensively, but Uncle Vernon ignored them, having eyes for no one else besides the twins. Chrys didn't see what the problem was. Dudley and Piers were fine. They were relishing in the chance to tell heroic tales of their near escape from a 'bloody death.' Even the shocked Aunt Petunia got better once the zookeeper gave her some tea (which Chrys suspected was spiked).

Still, as he drove back Chrys could see the rusting gears turning in her uncle's mind. He was trying to come up with an excuse to give them the punishment of a lifetime. And of course, Piers-the-rat was the one to give it to him.

"You and Harry were talkin' to it, weren't you?"

Uncle Vernon's eyes lit up with a murderous rage. As soon as they were alone, he spluttered incomprehensible words of anger at them and shoved them into their cupboard. Chrys sighed as the lock snapped shut behind them.

She turned to her brother. "What was it this time?" She asked, waiting for him to translate the furious-Vernon-nese.

"Not sure, but he definitely said no meals," Harry told her, shoulders hunched.

Chrys heard Aunt Petunia running around, searching for the brandy to give to their uncle.

"Should someone with blood pressure as high as his really be drinking?" Chrys said, trying to keep her tone light. Harry's head drooped.

"This is the worst."

"Worse than the green flash?" Chrys said softly. Harry's frowned etched deeper into his face.

"Second worst," he amended. Their earliest memory was of a green flash of light, and a painful burning sensation. Harry thought it must be the car crash that had taken their parents away from them. "I wonder what they looked like," he said. It wasn't the first time he mused on this.

Chrys bit her lip. "We could search for photographs again, once we get out of this place. I'll run interference and you can sort through the closet…"

She trailed off at the look on Harry's face. They hadn't looked for photos for a long time. To be honest, they'd both given up any hope that they would ever know what their parents had looked like. The walls and shelves were lined with pictures of Dudley through the ages, but there wasn't a single photo of the twins. If Aunt Petunia thought the twins too unsavory for her decor, why would she bother including their parents?

"…Remember we used to pretend there was a secret relative somewhere out there who would come and take us away?" Harry reminisced. The floorboards creaked as he leaned back against the wall.

"Yeah. And every time some stranger smiled at us, we thought it might finally be our moment...though I'm not sure I'd want to be related to any of those weirdos. Their taste in clothing is nearly was bad as Aunt Petunia's." Her laughter echoed falsely.

"Remember that guy in the pointy hat? He swept it off and bowed at us... then there was that woman who shook your hand so hard your arm went numb."

"I liked that lady in green. She had a kind smile." Chrys leaned against Harry's shoulder. He shuffled, curling his arm around her shoulders.

"Aunt Petunia didn't like any of them much."

"Maybe we were related."

"... I don't know. They seemed to leave rather quickly. Almost like they disappeared into thin air. Meanwhile, we're stuck here for who knows how long."

So yep, I hope anyone who reads this will like it (and review?). Five points to whoever catches the Percy Jackson reference... I borrowed an idea of Rick Riordan. I would appreciate some critiques as well. I'd like to know how people feel about Chrys (if she fits into Harry's world).