Summary: The strangest thing about Lily Evans life was not the magic, or castles, or prophecies. It was her pregnancy. You see, when Lily gave birth to her child, she was a virgin. And that's only the beginning. A tale of family, redemption, and what it means to find yourself in a world not your own. Fem!Harry. Kryptonian!Harry. Lex Luthor/Fem!Harry. Strong Clark/Fem!Harry friendship.

Tags/warnings: Voldemort died the night he attacked the Potters. Parental Sirius Black. Parental Remus Lupin. Wolfstar. Kryptonian Fem!Harry. Explored Alien Biology. Not so great Albus Dumbledore. Complete AU for Potterverse. Slow moving (real slow). Eventual Romance (stress on the eventual).

CHAPTER ONE:

She Crawled.

Lily Evans P.O.V

The strangest thing about Lily Evans life was not the magic, or castles, or prophecies. It was her pregnancy. You see, when Lily gave birth to her child, she was a virgin. She didn't think many people could boast that truth. Indeed, even if they did claim such a feat, no one would believe them. Lily wouldn't have either, until it was her trying to explain the unexplainable.

Personal experience had a horrid habit of doing that. Shifting opinion right on its wonky head. Scepticism is logical. Cynicism is rational. Doubt is sensible… till the time came when it was you staring down the barrel of impossibility. Then what do you do? What do you say? Where do you go for help when you don't even know what you need help for exactly? The world was a cold, cruel place when you had to stand alone outside the realm possibility.

The fact remained. Lily Evans, by the grace of Merlin, right up until her daughter, pink and squawking, clenched fisted and full of ebony curl and indignant fury, had come kicking and screaming her way into the world and tore right through Lily, she had been a virgin in every sense of the word. She had not bedded no man, no woman, no creature. Nothing.

However, she did touch a bloody rock.

Lily wasn't supposed to be in the little American town that day. She was meant to have visited three months later for Christmas. If she had… Well, there was no point in daydreaming about should haves and would beens, is there? Her acceptance letter for her Master of Charms apprenticeship under Professor Flitwick had arrived early. A whole month early, and Lily's life would never be the same.

Knowing she would be bogged down in heavy workloads for the next year, still trying to figure out her fresh relationship with James Potter of all people, perhaps feeling a bit like her life was abruptly moving too fast for her to grasp, Lily had thought she would take a step back, have a breather, catch up with some family, and so, her fate was sealed with the hasty booking of an airplane ticket at four in the morning when everything had seemed so entirely, utterly… Heavy. Heavy and inescapable.

Her aunt and uncle, Rodger and Hyacinth Evans, often visited on holidays. Christmas. Easter. Birthdays. Her mother's older sister was a bright woman, always dressed in yellow with a large brimmed straw hat, no matter the weather, and her smile was kind and gentle and soothing. She taught Lily how to garden, how to prune roses, when to plant tulips in the year, how to hold a cactus without being pricked.

Her husband, Rodger, an American man who owned a farm where Hyacinth ran her florist shop, was a country boy through and through. The American dream hewn in flannel and jeans, hay golden hair, laugh lines on sun kissed skin. He spoke softly and easily, with a smooth drawl. He never once, not even when six-year-old Lily had accidentally run over his foot when she was learning to ride a bike, raised his voice. Petunia, always so prim and prissy, loathed the pair, called them bumpkins and hillbillies, but Lily, oh, Lily adored her aunt and uncle.

In, maybe, a sudden identity crisis, feeling so out of control of her own life, unsure of what she did or didn't want, it was to her aunt and uncle Lily ran. When she turned up on their doorstep, suitcase at her feet, in the little town of Smallville, out of the blue a whole three months before she had promised to visit in December, they had accepted her with sunny smiles and open arms. Stay as long as you need, dear. You know our home is your home too. It always will be. That was what Hyacinth had told her. One of the last, in truth. Rodger and Hyacinth would be dead within two weeks.

When the meteorite shower came.

Lily intended to head back the night before the shower, on October the 6th. Bolstered by sunshine, family and breezy days of helping her aunt make bouquets out her greenhouse, she felt… Stronger. Life had seemed good. Too good, in hindsight. She had a loving boyfriend who, despite the rumours of his insatiableness in Hogwarts, had not pushed her to cross the big line until she was ready. She had good friends, true friends, in Frank and Alice. She had just secured her first choice in Master's of Magics. Why was she so filled with dread? There was no reason. None. And, maybe, if she kept telling herself that, she might just begin to believe it.

Nevertheless, it had oddly rained that day. The roads had been slick. One more day, surely, could not hurt? When Rodger and Hyacinth had offered to drive her to the airport on the 7th, when Lily could have easily apparated home, she had taken their offer readily. She had wanted to spend as much time with them as possible, uncertain of when she would have time to see them next. A few more hours to clear her head before she got back to her life. She never knew that when she nodded her head that day, she set everything into motion. One nod, and her life went tail spinning out of control.

The first meteor had crashed right in front of them on the junction between the cornfields and interstate to mainland Kansas. The next, within a blink, had struck into the side of the truck. Lily had gone flying, rolling, crashing, hurtling. Thrown from the car through the open window. The last thing she saw, upside down, dazed and dizzy with a pounding in her head and a shrill ringing in her bleeding ears, was her aunts panicked face before the car had gone up in flames.

She had known no more.

When she awoke, it had been night. She was hurt. Broken. Bleeding. Her leg was jacked and refused to move. Yet, there was no sign of the car about her, in that cornfield she had landed in. She had dragged herself through the mud and muck, through the burning rocks and torched crop, with clawed fingers. She had thought if she just got out the field, if she made it to the road, if she just… Moved, she would find her aunt and uncle standing there, right as rain, smiling, and no, she had not seen-

She crawled.

She crawled.

She crawled.

Hours, days, Lily didn't know. The healers would later tell her she was suffering from a severe concussion. All she knew then, really knew, was time didn't seem to work right in that tragic moment of her life. It was jumbled. Flashes of sensation. The stench of smoke and death in her nostrils. The flavour of copper on her tongue. The echo of buzzing in her ears. The slip of cold, slick dirt on her ripped skin.

Until it wasn't mud anymore.

Lily stumbled upon it accidentally, that metal pod. She would have slithered like a snake right on over it if it had not, as soon as her hand touched it, scorched her palm jarringly. But it did burn, and she did stop, and the pod, such a strange contraption of bronze and silver blackened metal, did open.

It was a small thing, Lily remembered that much. Barely the size of a milk crate, with strange writing, she thought, later, it might have been writing, scrawled across its sundering face. The rock was inside. Crystal. Spiking. Purple. Beautiful. It hummed, it sang, and Lily, broken and bruised and bleeding Lily, was captivated.

She didn't know what made her reach out. She didn't know what made her fingers skim the crystal. She did know the bloody thing then zapped her, akin to tiny, crackling bolts of lightning, right in the stomach. That was the stage of her child's conception.

Blood, tragedy, and the brush of crystal.

Fifteen Years Later…

Sirius Black's P.O.V

"Dea! It's time for lunch! Get your arse down here!"

Sirius Black bellowed up the winding staircase of Grimmauld Place. Silence answered his cry. Now he knew something was up. His precious, lovable, completely calamitous goddaughter was only ever this quiet when she was up to something, something big if she was willing to skip a meal, generally never missing a chance to refill her bottomless gut. Marching up the stairs two at a time, and down the twisting hallway, he stalled at her door, eyeing the starburst burn mark near the handle.

Oh dear… Not again.

When he opened the door he found her. Dea, as he had come to call her, Potter, stood in the very middle of her bedroom, stiff backed, hands clasped behind her, looking everywhere but at him, still in her jeans and jumper from last night.

When Dea was nine years old, she had hit her first growth spurt. And then another. And another. And another. Now, only fifteen-years-old, she was 6 ft and, like bamboo, appeared to still be sprouting towards the sky at dizzying speeds. All arms and legs and lithe slopes. It only seemed like yesterday Sirius was giving her piggyback rides across Kensington Gardens, now, she was handing him things down from the top shelf.

She hunched a lot, his Dea, shrinking and huddled, trying to appear short and less gangly, but she still stood out like a sore thumb in her Hogwarts year photos. The red and gold decorated giant in a sea of tiny, nervous first years, slightly taller second years, and back to minuscule third years as she hit another growth spurt and dwarfed those around her. No. Dea didn't look like a fifteen-year-old. She hadn't for a long time. Pale skinned and midnight haired, wily and keen featured, she was a nymph sprang free from an Italian fresco.

About as much trouble as one too.

Cocking his brow, Sirius Black folded his arms over his chest.

"What are you doing?"

Her reply was far too swift and much too innocent.

"Nothing."

Sirius spotted the crinkled, aged piece of paper by her foot. She saw him looking and winced. Got'cha. Strolling over, he bent over and plucked it up. Flicking it out, an old copy of the Daily Prophet's headline page greeted him. Lily Potter's startled face, blinking, shielded by her hand as she came stumbling out Saint Mongos by James's side, replayed in flashes and bursts. Above her head was her own death sentence. Virgin Birth: Second Coming of Merlin or the Darkest of Magics?

Sirius ran a tired hand through his tangled curls. Bloody journalists. Was it not enough they had ruined Lily's life fifteen years ago, now they were haunting his goddaughter? Ambling over to Dea's bed, he plonked himself on the edge and gently shook the paper in his hands.

"Have you got any more of these stashed away, perhaps?"

Bashfully, Dea slinked her arms out from behind her back and produced a stack of yellowed papers, holding them out for Sirius. He took them, sighing, sagging, slumping.

"Dea, we've talked about this-"

"I know. I know you say it's not important. I know you say James and Lily loved me very much and that's all that matters. I know… I just…"

Sirius patted the edge of the bed near him. Dea tumbled over with heavy footsteps and, by the tautness of her face, a heavy heart. The bed creaked underneath her weight. If somebody had told him, thirteen years ago, two of his friends, his dear, dear friends, would be dead, another rotting in Azkaban where he deserved to be, and he would be left raising a child, more importantly, a child like Dea, he would have laughed in their face and told them to ease off the firewhiskey for the night.

Yet, here he was. Here Dea was. And he was making a right mess of it all, wasn't he? He tried. Merlin, Lily and James, wherever they be in the afterlife, must know that. He was trying. Sirius just wasn't exactly succeeding.

"You're curious."

Cautiously, Dea nodded. Reaching out, Sirius placed a soft hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She was hot underneath his scarred fingers. Dea ran a little warmer than most. In the grand scheme of it all, that was the least of their concerns. Dea Potter was not… Normal. She tried to be, as Sirius tried to be a good parent, but they both fell short of the finish line, didn't they?

"I only want to know why I'm not like the others at school. They… Zabini told everyone I'm half Dementor."

Sirius couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Dementor? Not with that pretty face."

Dea didn't laugh. She hadn't laughed in a while. Finally, she met his eye, and there it was. Shimmering in the iris. Her stubborn streak a mile wide.

"Why can't I play quidditch?"

Sirius's hand fell from her shoulder with a muted thud on the unmade bed.

"You know why, love. We've talked about this. Look what happened to the Weasley boy when you were four and-"

"Why can't I go back to Hogwarts this year?"

Sirius took a moment to compose himself, rolling his neck and counting down from ten. Dea knew why. They all did. She just wanted him to say it. Make her insecurities real by verbalising them. You're not normal. You're dangerous. You don't belong with the others. However, Sirius wouldn't ever speak those words. Dea wasn't ordinary. Dea was dangerous. Perhaps, she didn't belong in the wizarding world. Yet, she was his goddaughter. The little bundle of super strength, speed and chaos he had raised since she was six months old. He loved her. He only ever wanted the best for her. And he had messed it all up so badly.

"Dea, you know why. Me and Moony talked, and we think it's better to home school you… For now. It won't be for long. I promise, on my honour as a Marauder. You'll be back before your sixth year and it will be like you never left and-"

"Is it because I accidentally burnt down the girls bathroom?"

Sirius shook his head.

"You didn't burn it down, Dea. You… Light came out your eyes and you…"

In the end, Dea broke. Dea, the fifteen-year-old saviour of the wizarding world. Dea, the girl who could lift a quidditch stadium above her head and not strain. Dea, the girl who could run faster than apparition. Dea, who could shoot beams of light from her bloody eyes and devastate entire areas. Dea, a young girl with too much power, all the confusion and hormones, and with no one who knew how to help her. The child who wasn't really a child anymore.

Yet, she would always be his child.

It killed him to see her like this.

"I didn't mean to. I swear it. Malfoy and Parkinson cornered Hermione in the bathrooms and were calling her a mudblood. Parkinson shoved her down and… They had a knife… I… I heard her crying and I… Malfoy said-… I got angry. I couldn't… I was so angry and… I don't know what's happening to me. I didn't mean to hurt anybody."

She sounded so lost, his Dea. Lost and scared. As lost and terrified as Sirius pretended he wasn't. The truth was no one knew what was happening to Dea. No one knew what she was. No one knew where she came from. Perhaps Lily had known, somewhat, but she had taken that knowledge to the grave with her.

Grasping her by the biceps, Sirius twisted Dea to look at him fully. She refused to meet his eye again. Only making it to the tip of his nose. Sirius's heart shattered. The only thing she had of her mother's were those green, green eyes. Bright. Lurid. Alive. There was no James in her. There wouldn't be.

"I know you didn't mean to, love. But… But you did. You nearly hurt a lot of people. And no, no, don't think that. It's not your fault. But you need to get control of this… These… You need to learn to control yourself. You might hurt yourself one day, and I couldn't bear it."

The truth was Sirius, and Moony to a certain extent, had done this to her. Oh, they didn't give her the gifts she had, those were all her own, but this debacle was exclusively and poignantly on his own shoulders.

When, at four, she had sped off at Bill Weasley's birthday party and broken his arm with a simple touch, Sirius had panicked. The Aurors who came to investigate asked too many questions, looked too hard on little Dea, and Sirius understood all too well what the Ministry did to those of Dea's type. Remus, a common werewolf, had to hide what he was for a mere low-waged job, never mind having graduated top of his class with all honours. Merlin knew what they would do to Dea if she showed any more signs of divergency.

They kept her away. No more birthday parties. No more visits to other wizarding families. No more anything. Sirius had thought if he kept her at home, kept her away and safe, he could teach her to restrain herself and by the time she got to Hogwarts, all would be well. She could blend in and live a quiet, normal life.

He only made it worse.

Not used to socializing with others not Remus and Sirius, ostracized for what the press said about her in the papers, so physically, and mentally, different to those her own age, Dea's first year at Hogwarts was a complete disaster. Too smart for her lessons, though Sirius had begged Dumbledore to put her a few years ahead for her own sake, a request that was denied on 'tradition', she outstripped her class, distilling a sort of mass hostility. Everything was too loud for her, her hearing having always been sensitive, and she couldn't stomach the normal places the kids gathered. This, coupled with her intellect, only made her seem arrogant and condescending.

Then came her gifts.

She couldn't hold back her own strength sometimes. She broke tables and pillars, and, trying to make friends, in second year, when she held the moving staircase in fucking place for people to get to lessons on time, she only succeeded to further terrify those around her and additionally alienate herself. She sped about the place, not realizing other children couldn't move as fast. The teachers wouldn't allow her on the Quidditch team, Dea's last hope at finding a group of people to fit in with in third year, stating her… 'Advantages' were cheating. And, in a fateful Defence lesson in fourth year, when called upon to practice duelling, when the spells had merely clipped off her and hit the surrounding walls, not so much as singeing an eyelash, the damage was done.

The wizarding world didn't like people who broke free from their pretty boxes, and Dea's was irrevocably smashed.

By the time of the Malfoy incident, Dumbledore had already written up her expulsion papers. After wrecking the whole of the third floor where the girls bathrooms were located, McGonagall had no other option, despite liking Dea, to sign the papers on account of hazardous behaviour. So, before her fourth year was up, Dea was kicked out, with only the clause of re-entry when, and if, her behaviour had improved, notarized by a Ministry official.

Oh, Sirius could see the dominoes falling, and Dea was right in the line of fire.

The ministry official was due in the next week. There, they would test Dea. No doubt, he would come up short, and then, they would say they needed to take Dea to specialists. Far away, unnameable experts. Sirius would never see the girl again, he knew. She would disappear. Locked up, dead, experimented on, used… No doubt, Dumbledore would give a spiel on how it was for the 'greater good'. Well, he could shove his greater good up his wrinkly arse and suck a-

"I just want to be like everyone else. I want to know who I am."

Sirius's hands slipped from her biceps up to her jaw, cradling. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead and whispered into her curls.

"I know. I know."

Pulling back, he glanced down to the stack of papers in his lap. What else could he say? You shouldn't exist? You're impossible? The papers had said all that before. After coming back from visiting family in America, Lily Evans had soon learned she was pregnant. After an in-depth examination, it was found she was still a virgin. The news had leaked from St Mungo's within hours, spreading like wildfire. The last virgin birth in their long, long history had been Merlin's.

Then the prophecy had come crashing down upon them when Lily was eight months gone. Born to a woman untouched by man. Born as the seventh month dies. The child from the stars will have the power the Dark Lord knows not, and where the mother falls, so shall he. Born to a woman untouched by man. Born as the seventh month dies. The child from the stars will atone for the father's sins, or doom us all. Lily, the only pregnant virgin for millennia, was promptly put into hiding. James wed her that very night, in an attempt to claim the child as his, but no one believed it. The killing blow was done when Lily's healer had sold her story, and her un-doctored medical records, to an up and coming Rita Skeeter of all people.

The rest was history. Voldemort tracked them through Peter, murdered them in their own home, in Dea's own nursery, and at six months old, the Avada Kedavra spell, as many had done in her Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, ricocheted off a crying Dea and struck Voldemort dead. There wasn't even a scar to show for it all.

"Is it true? Was mum a virgin? Don't I have a dad?"

Sirius ruffled her hair.

"Your dad was James Potter, Dea. You may not have his blood, but he loved you very much. Never doubt that. As for a father, well, I supposed everybody has a father. Even you. Yours is just a bit more… Complicated."

Shifting the stack of papers and ghosts off his lap, Sirius regarded Dea. He was out of his own depth here. Out of depth and out of time before the Ministry came knocking upon their door.

"Lily was visiting her family in America when she… Became pregnant with you. Not searching for Camelot like these papers tell you. She left you their farm in her will. It's yours."

Dea frowned.

"She did?"

Sirius nodded.

"From what little Lily would say of that day, from what I know, the farm should still be there."

Dea hesitated for a moment, chewing over the news with her fang wrangling her bottom lip.

"Can I go? One day, I mean. I know I'm grounded-"

Sirius chuckled.

"Which is not for the accident at Hogwarts, but for sneaking out when you should be sleeping. You nearly gave poor Moony a heart attack when he came to check on you and found your bed empty last night. And don't think I don't know you've been up all night reading these papers. You're still in yesterday's clothing. You need to sleep, Dea. You're invulnerable not invincible."

Her voice dropped. Hushed. frail. Weak.

"I like… Running. I… It's like I have so much energy in me and-… Everything's tissue paper. I touch it and it crumbles. Do you know what it's like living in a sandcastle? One distracted second and it all starts collapsing. Running helps me concentrate so I don't squish everything."

There was nothing Sirius could say. He didn't know what that was like. Magic, to an extent, was volatile, unpredictable, but out of toddler-hood, unintentional magics was unheard of. Magic worked on the contrary, it needed intent. He didn't know what his life would be like if he had to focus on limiting his magic continuously in fear of lashing out in a split second of preoccupation. He thought, though, it could have been hellish. An infernal existence his goddaughter didn't deserve, not for a moment, but had to endure in any hopes of having a life worth living. Stretching out, he draped an arm around her stooped shoulders and stroked her arm soothingly.

"We can go to the farm."

Instantly, she brightened.

"Really?"

Sirius winked at her wide, imploring eyes.

"Where do you think Remus is right now? He's packing our bags. We leave tonight."

They needed to. They should have gone a long time ago. With the Ministry coming… Yes. They needed to leave and they needed to leave now. They needed to find out what happened, precisely, to Lily all those years ago. They needed to find out why Dea was the way she was. Then, only then, they could help Dea properly. Pretending Dea was a normal child wasn't working anymore. Sirius had to face the truth. The truth that was somewhere, hiding, in a little place called Smallville.

Dea sprang up, excited, but Sirius stood too and held up his hand.

"But you have to promise me you'll keep your head down. No trouble, Dea. I mean it. No running off. No messing with the muggles. Nothing. You stay at the farm. End off. You leave the rest to me and Remus. And you will continue your lessons. No slouching. Most importantly, no more midnight runs without telling me or Moony first, alright?"

Her smile was dazzling.

"I promise!"

Sirius pulled her into a tight hug.

"I love you, kid."

Unhurriedly, she embraced him back, rigid, wary. She was holding back, afraid to squeeze too tight. Always holding back. It must be tiring.

"I love you too."

Sirius dragged himself away and playfully flicked her nose. It stung his fingernail, like pinging six foot of reinforced steel swathed in velvet. The slight pain didn't make a difference. He had done that since she was a year old, and sting or not, he would continue to do so until he was rumpled and grey.

"You know, you're lucky James was there when you were born. Your mother was out of it. Mumbling and rambling. She kept demanding you be named Zod."

Her face scrunched as if she sucked on a lemon.

"What kind of name is Zod?"

Sirius chuckled and shrugged.

"Exactly. In the end, James convinced her to meet him halfway, and so, here you are. Zodea Potter. Zod, for Lily, Dea after James's mother. It was her nickname. She would have loved you. So would Charlus… But, enough of the past. This old man could reminisce for hours. Come on. Lunch is getting cold on the table and we need to leave soon if we're going to make it on time. You know how Moony gets when we're late."

She sauntered passed him, towards the bedroom door, grinning cheekily, spirits, for the first time in a year, lifted from the gutter they had plunged into.

"We wouldn't be late half the time if you spent less hours preening in the mirror like a Malfoy peacock."

Sirius scoffed.

"Oi, cheeky! No cheesecake for you."

She froze in the crux of the door.

"We have cheesecake?"

With a whoosh, she was gone. Sirius dashed for the door, head thrusting out into the hallway, voice trailing the blur that rushed for the kitchen.

"What have I said about running in the house! Those are new carpets! Dea! Dea! Bloody hell. What am I going to do with you."

Would you like to see more?

A.N: So, I was on the train home from University for Christmas break when… This, whatever this actually is, came out. Either way, I hope you all liked it! And Happy Holidays!