Chapter 1: Who is Harry Potter

Harry Potter was a small, thin, scruffy looking child. Actually, he was quite typical for a child raised on an estate by parents who relied on the dole to support their various bad habits instead of tending to their children. Therefore, it was quite a shock to the new teacher, Mr. Daniel Morris, homeroom teacher for 6DM at Little Whinging Middle School, to find that Harry was kin to one of the wealthier boys at the school and actually lived in the same home as the well dressed and over fed cousin.

Mr. Morris quickly realized what the situation was and often went out of his way to shelter the smaller boy from some of his more enthusiastic playmates, most often Dudley and his gang of middle school morons. It was not a hardship for the teacher to let the quiet boy spend his lunch hour in the woodworking shop helping him with various projects. He was good with all the equipment, but when he was working on wood carving the boy had an almost magical aptitude.

He soon learned that Harry was quite intelligent and articulate despite the fact that the boy's aunt had started her own child in school almost four terms prior, but not him. While other teachers found it convenient to believe that Petunia Dursley had homeschooled her nephew because he was still having problems related to being born to a drug addicted, alcoholic mother, Dan Morris looked below the surface of polite society and saw an abused orphan who desperately needed to escape his living conditions.

By the time Fall term had approached mid-term break for Little Whinging Middle School, Mr. Morris had collected a small band of misfits who dropped by the wood working shop during their free periods. It never surprised him at all that the children were well behaved and followed the rules meticulously even if the other teachers refused to believe him. Therefore, it was no surprise that the name stuck when someone asked what the DM in homeroom 6DM meant and Harry gave Mr. Morris a cheeky grin and replied, "Demented Monsters, but really it is only the teacher."

It was noted by several on the staff that classroom 6SP, the class where Dursley, Polkiss, Weatherby, and a few other bullies were grouped, could have been renamed Stupid Pricks. The only thing that saved them was the fact the homeroom teacher, a Miss Sara Pickles, was actually a very nice lady who did not deserve them.

Since he was not allowed to be called a stupid prick, Dudley was soon christened with the name Pig-in-a-wig. How the name got started was anyone's guess, but it stuck since it was a rather apt description of the pasty-faced, bloated boy.

Dudley may have been a fat pig of a child but, he certainly did not have the social aptitude of one. Any pig farmer can tell you that a hog is actually a rather social animal and enjoys company. Not so Dudley. He had been raised by superficial, inept people and had never learned the finer points of social interaction. He was a very good case for the argument of environment-versus-heredity. The boy had not only inherited all the physically undesirable traits of both parents, he also adopted the attitude that the world belonged to him.

Chapter 2: When wishes combine

Dudley's latest transgression was baiting his orphaned cousin, Harry, about the fact that both of his parents were out there in the audience waiting to see him be one of the three kings in the Christmas production while Harry had no one to watch him.

Harry glared at the pompous fat nuisance and said, "I do too have someone in the audience. She's beautiful and smart, and she loves me!" He had a determined glint in his eyes as he adamantly announced that bit in front of everyone standing in the wings waiting to go on stage. The words were said with such certainty that he felt sick and dizzy for a few seconds as he braced himself against the wall and maintained that determined glare at Dudley.

Dudley sneered, "You don't have anyone who loves you. Just give it up!" He and his two fellow kings nodded and snickered.

Instead of taking the bait and escalating their fight so that the teachers noticed, Harry gave Dudley a pleased smirk of his own and whispered, "At least I am not so fat that I had to have a special costume made for me." Then his eyes flickered to the other two kings and added, "And I am not so stupid that my part had to be rewritten because I could not memorize my lines."

Dudley scowled. "Just you wait, freak."

"Wait for what?" Harry baited him. "Wait for you to lose weight and suddenly learn some of your lines? Not bloody likely, you great fat pig-in-a-wig!"

Dudley was so enraged that he shrieked. All he got for his trouble was a reprimand to be quiet by the Deputy Headmistress to keep the noise down or she would send him off without having gone onstage. Then to add insult to injury she turned to Harry and said, "You make a lovely angel, Harry, dear! I can hardly wait for your solo of Silent Night. You and the German Club have done a wonderful job with it."

Dudley and his friends turned and walked away. They would get even- they always did.

Harry stood there in his angel costume and gently plucked his harp, waiting to go on-stage and dreaming about the beautiful lady who had come to see him perform. He imagined she would be dressed elegantly and carried herself with dignity and grace. She would be the epitome of fashionable; just like the pretty lady he had once seen in London who seemed to be wearing silk robes instead of a dress like most of the women were… The pretty lady could be her sister since they would both have long black hair and pale white skin. As he imagined her he tracked the cues and waited for his turn to act.

Whispers started toward the end of the act one as some of the children finished their lines and returned to the wings or shuffled into the dressing rooms. As they whispered the words beautiful, rich, different; Harry knew his wish had come true. He knew with a certainty he often got regarding the happenings of his life. She was here for him and Dudley was going to really be annoyed because Petunia just was neither beautiful nor a lady.

The play seemed to have finished in no time and the children quickly spilled back out onstage to take a final bow before changing into their street clothes in preparation of the class parties and final gift exchanges.

Dudley hung back and glared at Harry. "So where is your guest, freak?"

Harry turned a happy face toward Dudley, "She is right here."

Dudley gaped at the tall slender woman with the long black hair, pale porcelain skin , and heavy lidded, violet eyes. "Who are you?" He finally stuttered as the woman stepped forward and encased Harry in a genuine caring hug.

Harry returned her hug gently and spoke softly, "I am very happy that you could make it to our pageant. I had wished you could be here with all my heart!"

She gave him a genuine happy smile in return. "No, Dear, thank you for inviting me to share Yule with you. I, too, was wishing I could be here and just like that- I am!"

Vernon and Petunia had been watching the woman from the time they first noticed her and saw that she was making her way toward their Dudley and the freak. They were soon beside the two boys and staring avidly at the strange woman.

The woman finally straightened, but left an arm draped around Harry as she recognized the Dursleys with a small incline of her head.

Petunia had hissed earlier to Vernon that the woman had to be a freak like the boy was so he felt no constraints of being polite as he demanded, "Who are you, and how do you know the boy?"

She smirked at him. "You do know about magic, don't you?" She watched their faces pale considerably before continuing, "Wish magic is a particularly tricky bit of magic, and it often has strange results while combining the desires of the participants and rearranging lives to fit the criteria."

Vernon stuttered. "Uh, No. I don't believe I know what you are talking about."

Petunia hissed and stepped back from the robe wearing woman. She had spoken earlier out of spite and jealousy so that Vernon would not stare at the strange woman. To know that she had been correct was little cause for joy because the woman was incredibly beautiful regardless of how unfortunate her 'condition' was.

"Bellatrix LeStrange." she introduced herself using a cultured tone. "As for the 'why' of my circumstances, well, wish magic being what it is, and with it never being wrong; here I am." She casually shrugged while managing a tinkling laugh that had all the eavesdroppers wanting to hear more.

Petunia hissed, "Where should you be?"

Bellatrix smiled beguilingly at Harry before turning her attention back to the Dursleys. "I should be in Azkaban."

Dudley was feeling neglected so he asked, "What is Azkaban?"

Bella shook her head in that certain way adults have while indulging a child. "Wizarding Prison. I used to kill people for fun. But, now I am going to be taking care of Harry and raising him properly. So I will take up other hobbies."

Vernon snarled, "You cannot have the freak. Dumbledore gave him to us and we swore that he would not turn out like his crack-whore mother when we took him in."

Harry smiled up at Bella. "Maybe just this once I can let you try out your old hobby. Or, you could let me do it and you could just watch to make sure I did it properly?"

The Dursleys grabbed their precious Dudders and left rather quickly after that. Bellatrix and Harry were still standing there in the auditorium a few minutes later when they were approached by Mr. Morris and the Headmaster who had seen the Dursleys rush out.

Mr. Morris was the soul of politeness when he inquired, "May we be introduced to your guest, Harry? The pretty lady has caused quite the stir today and it would be remiss of us to not thank her for attending our program."

The boy smiled widely, showing clean white teeth. "Headmaster, Mr. Morris, may I introduce you to my new guardian, Bellatrix LeStrange?"

Mr. Morris smiled at Harry and ruffled his hair while the Headmaster spoke to Bella. "That is lovely. Please take good care of him."

Bellatrix smiled impishly at Harry before answering the Headmaster. "I intend to take the very best of care of Harry. I owe him a great deal." And it was true that she did owe him a great deal. She would be in Azkaban Prison still if not for wish magic. Except wish magic is never wrong. She had been sitting on her cot, staring at the mold growing on the outside wall of her cell while wishing she had someone to love who would love her in return. Her whole being had been filled with the longing of hopelessness before her world tilted until she felt like she was falling through time and space. She found herself with a perfect understanding of why she was at Little Whinging Middle School, in perfect health both mentally and physically, and she was more than happy to be there. Such was the essence of wish magic...

Disclaimer: Yep! It's fanfiction. No, I am not making any money...Hell, I don't even get reviews...well, maybe I would if I could get someone to read my offerings?