This is the edited version on the 9th September 2015. Hope you enjoy!

It wasn't the first time that Thomas had seen the chameleon girl sit by his family's shop window.

She was rather strange for a girl only a year or two younger than him. She wasn't quite like the other girls he knew. The girl scared him slightly, though he'd never admit that to his siblings. He was sure he'd seen her her hair change from blonde to black and her eyes lighten by at least eight shades in seconds.

At the time, he'd blamed it on his imagination. He was good at making up stories and presumed that his mind was simply playing tricks on him.

Today she was a ginger with purple eyes. He'd never seen purple eyes outside of Camden Market and the idea of her chameleon abilities brought shivers to his spine. He may have been a coward, but he was positive that even his burly father would run at the sight of her 'magic'.

Shaking his head, he turned away as she looked through the window. Though his eyes were on the cake he was frosting, he knew that she was watching him. He could feel her stare on the back of his head, burning a whole like fire.

"Come in then." He sighed, giving up all attempts to ignore the strange girl. "You always end up coming in anyway."

Her small body slid through the doors and he almost winced at the sight of her ribs as she stretched her arms up, causing her shirt to rise.

"You got anything nice today Thomas?"

Another shiver ran up his sine as she said his name. He'd never told her what his parents had called him. She'd discovered it by herself.

"Cheese buns are left over from yesterday. Those any good for you?"

"I love cheese buns." A warm smile spread across her face. "You should know that by now."

"Yeah. With all the months you've been scavenging around here."

Handing over the brown bag cautiously, Thomas took a step back as she ripped it open and devoured the first pastry.

"Glad you're enjoying that."

"You never know..." He almost jumped back as she looked up at him with now yellow eyes. "It might be my last ever meal. I want to finish it properly if that's the case.

Thomas shook his head as she skipped out of the shop, already inhaling her second cheese bun. She may terrify him, but the girl never failed to surprise him.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Avada Kedavra.

Two words could hold a lot of meaning for one person and mean absolutely nothing to another. Everyone had a few words they kept dear to them and her's were 'Avada Kedavra'. Being a girl of very simple education, she wasn't sure what they meant, but then again, no one ever did. Her Aunt had never told her and she'd never met her parents properly.

That was mostly why she found herself lying on top of a ratty mattress in a deserted street of London with only the stars and a stolen edition of 'Greek Mythology' by Robert Graves to keep her entertained. She'd left her aunt and uncle's at the first chance she'd got.

Her Aunt Petunia had always looked at her as if she was scum on a mat and in a way she was. That was how she'd been given to her dearest relatives. Being lest on door mat wasn't exactly a great way to meet your new family- especially when they hated your dead parents.

Her situation had only worsened over the years. Her ever changing (or Chameleon as the baker's son called it) features didn't exactly help the fact that her family despised her. She was a freak to them. A devil child. The first time she'd ever been able to look in a mirror, she was kept in the cupboard under the stairs for three weeks with only a meal a day- not exactly healthy for a four year old.

She'd only attended school till she was eight. After the day she'd somehow ended up on the school roof, she'd scarpered for the streets with only a wad of stolen money and a shabby hand me down jacket.

Keeping herself fed had been easy- people always weakened at the sight of a nine year old begging for food. Education was easily given from her older companions. The time she'd spent at Kings Cross Station had brought her far enough to understand most of War and Peace as well as being able to do basic Mathematics.

She was surprisingly eager to understand new concepts. Mostly because of the fact that she'd never been allowed to ask questions. Or that she was never told anything other than the fact that she should keep her mouth shut.

That's were her special words came to use. Her hate grew for her relatives grew further when she'd discovered that her name wasn't Potter or Freak. Potter was supposedly her last name and Freak was definitely not her first.

Ava.

That was her name. It came from the only words she'd ever been told as a small child. The only words that held enough meaning to be remembered to perfection. Avada Kedavra.

She remembered so little from her earliest years. Just a shaggy black dog and green light. Endless green light.

Due to the Petunia's particular grouchiness on the 31st of July, Ava had come to know that that was the date she was born. She was almost positive that today was the 20th. That left eleven days.

Admiring the shape of Orion and Canis Major, she barely noticed the swooping owl that dropped a single envelope of yellowed paper beside her head.

Remember to review and vote! Ciao.