Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

OK so this fanfic will be a little different. And I feel like it might take a few chapters for it to really pick up so hang in there with me. And please let me know what you think! I'm going to try and deal with some deeper issue and self-discovery and so any insight will be helpful.

Chapter 1

The room was white. All white. White walls, white sheets, white pillows, white lights. It hurt her eyes to be open and take in a place so lacking in color. So she kept her eyes shut. It was better that way, because if she couldn't see then she wouldn't have to face the new adults that would tell her that once again, the family couldn't keep her. The adults that would tell her that 'it wasn't her fault' and 'no, she isn't a freak like the family said' but she didn't believe them. After five years of this routine, she had stopped believing all of those false words.

After a few moments of adjusting to the pristine, stiff cot that she lay in, trying to remember what had happened that had caused her to end up in this colorless room, she heard voices. Remaining as still as she could, she tried to hear what was being said.

"Poor thing, been orphaned since she was two years old," it was a woman's voice. She could tell by the softer, kinder tone.

"Do we know what her name is? Do we know anything about her?" Also a woman speaking, though the tone is kind it contains a business-like edge to it.

"Nothing, Mrs. Granger-Weasley. Her documents should be arriving soon though," the first voice answered.

"How is it that the Ministry didn't collect her immediately after the incident, Potter?" A man joined, his deep voice sounded full of anger.

"Because, Malfoy, as you know, the incident occurred in Eastern Europe where we have no jurisdiction," a fourth person-Potter?- joined the conversation, sounding tired and exhausted.

"How is her recovery, Healer Bones?" the second woman spoke again.

"She is recovering well from the crash. The muggles she was with have also survived but they refuse to speak on the girl or even desire to see her again," the first woman answered.

A door opens and there is another voice, murmuring to the group of adults. Then there are footsteps and more hushed whispers, catching the phrase 'finally her file has arrived!' spoken by the man who had addressed Potter.

Finally, she hears the door open and shut and then there is silence. After a moment or so, she decides to try and open her eyes again, maybe since other people had entered the room it will have more color now. Slowly, her eyes blink open. The white is still present and still blinding. But now there is a figure that stands in contrast to the whiteness. It is a man, standing beside her bed. His hair is a raven-black mess and he has a bit of stubble on his chin. His eyes are emerald and hidden behind glasses and just above the glasses hidden mostly by hair she detected a scar of some kind on his forehead. She wonders if he is to be her new family and then wonders how long he will be able to handle her before sending her back.

She tilts her head as she observes him and he does the same. Suddenly he lets out a small gasp and she knows that she has changed again. She can't control it but it just happens. It is one of the reasons why she has never been able to remain with a family for very long, that and her 'freak' accidents that she can never explain. Briefly she wonders what about her appearance changed this time. Was it her eyes or hair? Those seem to be her most common changes.

The man says nothing about his gasp or her possible change and simply pulls out a stick and creates a chair. Her eyes widen in shock and surprise and wonder. How is that possible? How did he create a chair? Her mind is whirring with these thoughts as the man sits and watches her fascination at his actions.

"Hello," he says finally. She recognizes the voice, it was the fourth voice that talked about a Ministry of some kind...Potter the other man had called him. "How are you?"

She shrugs in response. She doesn't know how attached she should become to this man so best wait to speak until she is more certain.

"Can you speak?" he asks in concern.

Her mouth twitches in a small smile but she doesn't let it form fully. No one had asked her that one before. Instead she just nods.

"But you don't want to speak right now?" he pushed. Again she nods. "Alright then. It might be better if you listen first anyway," he seems to be talking to himself with this statement as he averts his eyes and mess up his already messy hair with his hand. Looking back at her, he sighs. "I guess we should start from the beginning. My name is Harry Potter, and my team and I….we found you hurt after a car crash. We apologize for not finding you sooner, but the muggles kept changing your home and location that it was hard to track you down. We actually weren't even aware that we should be tracking you down until a year and a half ago, which I guess is when you finally entered the UK."

The man licks his lips and pauses as if waiting for a stream of questions to come forth. Her mind is filled with questions, what he is saying makes sense but it doesn't. Why were they looking for her? What are muggles? Her thoughts are interrupted as the man, Harry Potter, begins speaking again. "Though, now that you are here I can understand why you were moved around so much. Being a metamorphmagus in the muggle world wouldn't be something they would easily adjust to. Don't worry, we've sent the obliviators out after all your previous homes and they don't remember your abilities," he pauses and chuckles at something and shakes his head. "But I'm getting ahead of myself, you probably don't even know what Obliviators or muggles or a metamorphmagus are, you're only seven after all. Ok, so, sweetheart, don't freak out about what I am going to say… well wait….can you...can you at least say something so that I know that you are following me? What is your name?"

The man looks at her hopefully, and she debates for a moment. The man isn't like all the other adults that she had come across, and it actually seems like he is about to give her some answers about what she is and why she does what she does. So after a few pauses, she responds, "Ambrosia, my name is Ambrosia. But you can call me Sia." Her voice is soft and quiet at the moment, but the words make the man break out into a smile and Sia can't help but smile a little in exchange. She likes it when others are happy.

"Ok, Sia, thank you. Now the truth is, you aren't like other people. You aren't normal and that is perfectly fine. I'm not normal either. See, I am a wizard and you are a witch."

She stares at him, wide eyed and open mouthed. A witch!? How is that even possible? Her thoughts race but as they do she recalls the chair the main is sitting on and the stick that he used. She recalls her accidents in the past, how she just couldn't explain how the curtains caught on fire or being five and staring into the mirror and watching her appearance changing and not knowing how to stop it, becoming so angry that she broke the mirror and then quickly repaired it without touching the broken shards before her then foster family found out and punished her.

Her mouth closes slowly and she narrows her eyes slightly at Harry Potter as her seven-year-old mind comes to terms with this information. When she is satisfied that she is grasping at this knowledge well enough she nods so that the man can continue. "Yes, you are a witch. And not just any witch, a metamorphmagus witch. Now being a metamorphmagus is very rare, but it means that you are able to change your appearance at will. Which is why your eyes changed to green like mine when you first saw me," he explained. So it was her eyes that changed, she thought with detached interest. "My godson is a metamorphous and so was his mother, but I know of no one else, besides you now, that has the trait. As you get older you'll start being able to control the changes but since you're still young it happens without you trying or even knowing it sometimes," she nods a little at these words and is intrigued that he knows of others like her. Maybe she could meet them? She thinks hopefully before turning her attention back to Harry Potter. "Now, you were born in…" he pauses and looks at a folder that Sia hadn't realized he was holding, and flips through a couple papers "well our best guess is Latvia because that is when your records start in the muggle system. And again, the guess is that you were two when you entered and the muggles have speculated that it is because your mother died. From there you have been changed homes and traveled across countries for the past five years. You've been to Romania, Belarus, Poland, France, Spain, Belgium and finally ended up here in Britain. It's interesting how your file has all of your muggle documented moves but not anything personal about you, like your name or even your parents names, we only know your actual age because we cast an age verification spell on you while you were on conscious….that is very strange that there aren't any records…"

The man's brows furrow and he seems to have forgotten that Sia is even present as he starts puzzling over the mystery of her file. Sia remains silent as she watches him, after a few moments he shakes himself his eyes focus back on her.

"Sorry about that, it is something that I am going to have my team look into," he assured her with a kind smile. "Now, I'm sure this is all a lot of information for you to take in. But allow me to tell one more thing. Today, the Healers are discharging you and you will be coming with me. I am going to take you to a house for orphaned young witches and wizards and there you are going to remain. Unless you get adopted, which is the only way we will allow a family to take you home, then you will remain at this house until you graduate from Hogwarts. You will be around other young witches and wizards who are without parents, you can make friends, learn your studies, be well attended for with a bed and food and all sorts of people stopping by to help out around the house or tell stories to you kids. Sound good?" He asks.

Sia stares at him for a moment. It sounds like an orphanage but better than the muggle ones she had been too. Plus, if it has other people like her then it can't be so bad, right? Hesitantly, she nods her agreement and the man breaks into a large grin.

"Brilliant. I'll go speak with your Healers and come back to take you out of here," he said standing and vanishing his chair with another swish of his stick. The man grins again at her. "Trust me, you are going to love it there," he promises before leaving her bedside.

Once he leaves the room, Sia settles back against her pillows as her mind sifts through the information. Once he mentioned the crash, the memories returned to her as well as a bit of pain in her shoulders and ribs from where the seat belt had cut into her arms and her stomach. It had been raining, the family she had been with were arguing again over her and disciplining her for her freak abilities. The light had turned red but the rain had made the roads slick and so their car hadn't stopped behind the line but skidded out a few feet into the intersection. Another car had come barrelling forward but noticed their protruding car enough to try and swerve. The cars hit and Sia's car went spinning into the guardrail on the edge of the road. And from that, Sia had blacked out.

The Healers, as Harry Potter had called them, returned after about an hour after the man himself had left. The people were dressed in lime green robes and all had pleasant smiles on their faces as they spoke with her and chuckled when her hair changed to lime green to match their robes. They all spoke kindly to her, asking her simple questions. Sometimes she answered, other times she just nodded and offered a tiny smile. Sia was still processing the fact that she was a witch and all that Harry Potter had told her. What was Hogwarts? What was this new home that she was being taken too? Could she actually get adopted now that she knew the truth about herself? Would she be able to meet this godson and his mother who were also metamorphmagus?

Sia walked in almost a trance like state as the Healers bustled around her as she walked closely behind Harry Potter. He walked with ease as he smiled at people, shook hands with others, while others simply stared in open admiration as he walked by. It just made Sia wonder more about who this man was that made people stare at him like he was a hero or something. Instead of walking out the front door like she had expected, instead they walked towards a fireplace.

Harry Potter turned to her at the fireplace entrance. "I think I know the answer, but have you ever traveled by floo powder before?"

Sia looked at him with a blank face but shook her head just for added measure.

"Ok, well it's essentially traveling by fireplace. Now, since it's your first time, you should probably take my hand," he said kindly, holding out his hand for Sia to take. She hesitated, she stared at his outstretched hand. How many other adults had offered her their hand only to take it away a few weeks later when they had had enough of her freakishness. "It's okay," the man assured her giving another kind smile. Taking a deep breath, Sia timidly placed her hand in Harry Potters. The emerald green eyes twinkled happily as he led her to stand in the fireplace. "Alright, now it might be best if you close your eyes and make sure you keep your elbows tucked in." Nerves began fluttering in her stomach as she watched him grab a handful of dust. Licking her lips nervously, she tried to feel reassured as he gave her a wink before dropping the dust.

"The R.J. Lupin House."