Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Mortal Instruments.

Summary: Helen Potter is dead – too bad she didn't stay dead. Enter Clary Fray.

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Prologue:

A horrible drawing sensation settled in the pit of Helen stomach. The woman – who sadly reminded her of her dead mother Lily Potter – stared at her with tired green eyes. Her long, curly, red hair which had been pulled back in a messy bun was now plastered to her face by a thin sheen of sweat that covered her brow and face. She looked terrible but somewhat glowing.

Quickly summarizing everything – the doctors, the woman, the screaming all came down to one thing.

She was reincarnated.

Never before in her life did she ever want to burst into wails. Never, not even when the people who were close to her dead. She have sobbed but never wailed like a child.

She was reincarnated. Death – that son of a bitch – had grabbed her soul, his master soul and suck it into the vessel of someone child, this woman child. The child, whom she had carried for nine months, probably reading all the maternity books, dealing with the morning sickness, cravings and muscle cramps and just looking into her eyes, Helen couldn't help but feel guilty, she already loved her baby.

She held back a sob. She stolen this woman baby, had taken its body. Now instead of her loving newborn child this woman had gained her. A fully-grown woman who had lived her life and now just wanted to die and wait for the rest of her family.

Helen, as a fellow mother too three, could only cry in shame. What have she done?

She could only hope that when this woman passed on and discovered her trickery she could be forgiven. But for now, Helen decided, she would not take this woman family from her. She would pretend to be her daughter, her beloved child.

Despites the circumstances a frightening thought plagued her mind. Was Helen even a girl?

"Her she is Jocelyn, here's your daughter." A nurse called out giving the pink bundle Helen to the tired, smiling woman.

Ah, yes, she was. Thank Merlin.

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Five and a half years later

Helen – no Clarissa Fray – watched her mother now known as Jocelyn paint with intense eyes. She couldn't help it, each stroke of the brush, the way her new mother skillfully made something as simply a line into such a work of art caught her attention. Like a fly to a bright light.

The ring of the doorbell knocked her from her musing.

Getting up from her place on the floor, Helen stepped up and walked toward the door quietly as to not disturb her mother from her work – she gets too caught in her work as well – to answer it. Hopefully she wouldn't get too worked up with it; Jocelyn was known to fear often. Especially about her daughter. She couldn't help but wonder what secrets her new mother was hiding for her to fear so much.

With small, tiny hands – Helen glared at them – she unlocked the door, opening it revealing a handsome man around her mother age with kind blue eyes behind golden-rimmed spectacles. He looked very shock to see her.

Helen looked surprised to see him too. Why did she get the feeling she was looking at her dead uncle, Remus Lupin?

A frighten voice run through the apartment. "Clary where are you! What have I said –"

Jocelyn stared at the figure behind her daughter in shock, her shouting interrupted.

She opened her mouth but the mysterious man already beat her to it.

"Hello, Jocelyn" He smiled grimly. She stood still, silently.

Helen watch the reunion, wondering. Yes, her mother was hiding secrets. Big ones.

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So, what ya think? Interested? Tell me any mistakes, please.