This story is... well, an experiment. If you're at familiar with the ol' stepbrother-stepsister situation then, yeah, this is more or less what it is. If you get that, don't like it,, I understand, but then it's best to move on from this story. Otherwise, if you're still here... Hope you enjoy!

Little Bird

Chapter 1 - Prologue

"Expecto Patronum!"

Maya Potter shouted the incantation, and willed the magic to flood through her holly and phoenix feather wand. She was focusing her mind, trying to sharpen the happiest memories she could think of.

"I'm going to live with Sirius Black," she whispered to herself. "I finally found a family, and I am going to live with him."

White miasma poured out of her wand into a warbled shield, covering both herself and Sirius, who lay unconscious on the ground. The Dementors swooping overhead, screamed loudly. They sucked and gasped for breath as they passed her, savouring her soul. The glowing shield in front of her repelled them, but they continued to return.

"Expecto! Patronum!"

There was desperation in her voice as she fought back the incoming memories, but it was like trying to stop a river with one's bare hands. Memories of her life attacked her. Growing up with the Dursley's, being attacked by Voldemort, having to see her mother die, and hear her father's pained screams, time and time again, and waking up drenched in sweat after the nightmare.

"No, I'm going to live with Sirius Black!"

She willed her resolve. The wind picked up around her, blowing her fiery red hair around her chest. She pushed more magic into her spell, but the Dementors continued their assault, and her wand hand fumbled.

In a moment of distraction, the dark creatures leapt at her, tearing at her shield like it was wet paper.

Maya couldn't even scream as the smell of rotting flesh enveloped her senses. Her eyes were wide as its mouth opened wide, and heavy rasping breathing sucked at her lips. It leant forwards to kiss her.

It was a foul sensation. She had never been kissed as she could remember. And after feeling the cold, cracked mouth of the creature on top of her, she never wanted to be kissed again.

"You freak!" The Dursley's shouted at her, laughing. She saw Vernon's fat, red face, laughing at her, and leering at her as she grew older.

She saw Voldemort, and he laughed, and laughed as he recalled the ease at which he killed her parents.

She had nothing left.

As the Dementor's cold lips continued to kiss her, she began to lose consciousness. Her world faded to a dark, murky green-black.

Perhaps, now, after all this time, she would finally be reunited with family.

And then she closed her eyes.

It was either a lifetime, or a single instant, but when Maya opened her eyes she was astounded by the light. The light was different; ethereal. It wasn't white. In fact, it wasn't a colour she had ever seen before. Bright, and brilliant, without straining her eyes if she stared at it for too long.

The light was everywhere, and yet, there were no shadows. Despite that, the world did not seem flat. Rather, objects of importance seemed to leap out strongly. She saw a soft toy of a snowy white owl, hovering in the air. Beside it, below her feet, was a sleek and familiar broomstick. Wrapping around her naked body, like a towel, was the marauder's map.

"You're awake. Finally. I was afraid I had lost you."

Maya squeaked, turning towards the voice, while grabbing the map and hugging it close to her body. Her chest may not be large, but it had finally started growing, and she felt conscious of being on display. It was one of the reasons why she had stopped being friends with Ron…

"Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm."

Maya couldn't see anyone, but she knew the voice was directly in front of her. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed a glimmer in the air. She reached forwards and touched the soft material.

"Fear not, Maya Potter. I will return your marvellous cloak to you. It has just been many a time since I was last in possession of my favoured Hallow."

It seemed like the invisibility cloak was talking to her. She grabbed the material, double-checking no one was underneath it, before gripping it firmly in her hands. The silky material calmed her beating heart.

"Who are you?" Maya asked the cloak.

"I am the Master of Death. I am known by other names, but alas, you are not ready to hear those."

Maya glanced around herself. She would have to be gullible to believe such a statement, but surrounded by just a few precious objects and an ethereal light that extended on and on, she had no choice.

"Where am I?"

"Inbetween. You are now here, and nowhere, all at once."

"Helpful," She muttered sarcastically, and was surprised when the voice chuckled.

"Apologies for my vagueness. Some things simply cannot be understood yet. But they shall. Especially for you. For now, however, I am here to help you."

"Why help me? I don't even know what's going on. Last thing I remember was…" She paled, the freckles on her cheeks becoming more pronounced against her light skin. The Dementor."

"It's alright. You are safe. Fortunately for you, I have a particular fondness for those who are Potters. They… remind me of myself."

The voice paused, and Maya imagined that the man may have been momentarily reminiscing.

"I saved your soul from being enveloped by the darkness."

"Does that mean-"

"Unfortunately, even with my powers, I cannot return you to your world."

"Oh." Maya felt the hope leave her like a deflating balloon. She was beginning to understand. She had lost, and now she stood before the Master of Death.

Modesty didn't matter to her anymore. She let the map fall, and it fell far beneath her feet. She grabbed the invisibility cloak, the most important heirloom her parents had left her, and wrapped it around her body, taking solace in the warm, soft material.

"As I said, I have a particular fondness for Potters. You see, they are not fortunate souls. They struggle. They are punished. They lose their childhood far too early."

"Yes," the voice said softly, noticing Maya wince. "The Dursley's were not kind to you. They rarely are."

"What do you mean?"

"There are many different dimensions, Maya Potter, but only one Master of Death. I find it my life's desire to help as many Potters as I can. The Dursley's are… well, let's say, they are rarely genial individuals."

"That's putting it lightly. They're dirty, selfish bastards."

The voice chuckled. And then stilled.

"I wish to help, young Maya Potter. I cannot return your soul to your world, but perhaps I could to another. Perhaps you, in my place, could save another."

"I don't understand."

"We rarely do."

Maya shivered as a soft breeze began to tickle the bare skin between her legs. Her body tingled, and her red hair began to feel warm, like phoenix flames.

"I will let you keep your cloak. After all, it does not do for one such as yourself to part from a Hallow."

The breeze was stronger, and even more powerful. She squeezed her arms around her small chest, as she felt certain parts of her becoming hard in the cold wind. With firm hands she clutched the cloak firmly to herself.

"I know your desire, Maya Potter. If it is family you seek, then it is family you shall find."

"How did you know-"

"One day, you'll understand, little bird."

"Now be off."

Harry Potter was used to waking up from nightmares. After having his name drawn from the Goblet of Fire, and then having Ron confront him and call him a liar, he was sure that his nightmare was going to incredibly brutal.

So, he was pleasantly surprised when he awoke in the early hours of the morning feeling rested and peaceful. There had been a dream, but the contents were slipping through his fingers like soft sand. However, the general feeling of contentedness from his sleep hung around, and he was happy to embrace it.

Sighing happily, he snuggled up into his warm pillow, not yet ready to wake up for the day; not yet ready to open his eyes. He didn't know what the house elves had been doing lately, but the extra pillow they had put in his bed overnight was particularly warm and comfortable.

He had his hands wrapped around the pillow that smelled softly of strawberry, and resting against something soft and round. Curious, he pulled it closer towards him, and was rewarded with a soft sigh from the pillow.

"Wait. That's not right," Harry murmured, and forced open his eyes.

Harry's heart stopped for several beats.

Wrapped in his arms was a small, naked girl. She was facing towards him, her head buried into his chest, and her bright red hair sprawled out around her like a magnificent halo.

Harry was now one hundred percent entirely awake, and he could feel everything. His body was hypersensitive. He could feel the soft rise of her chest brushing against his own shirtless body. He had boxers on, thank god, so nothing inappropriate was touching the naked girl, but his hands were firmly grasping something soft behind her.

Call it a male instinct. He tried his hardest to be a gentleman, and not do anything untowards, but despite his best control, his hands gave a firm squeeze to her behind. It was the most intoxicating feeling. Soft, but with a firmness to it. Round, but with a popping end. The girl mewled into his chest as he squeezed and her sound tore him back to reality.

"Ah, fuck!" Harry shouted, tearing himself away, and off the bed. He rested on his knees at the edge, staring at the girl with wide eyes.. His sudden movement and abrupt shout caused the girl to stir as well. Her eyes opened blearily, and she blinked heavily. She picked herself up from the bed, her bed sheets pooling around her waist as she stretched and yawned.

Any normal fourth year wizard should have been unable to tear their eyes away from a naked girls chest. And not just any girl. A really, really cute girl. Harry, however, could not stop staring at the young girl's tired, unaware, but brilliant emerald eyes.

"Just like Mum's," Harry whispered to himself. He swallowed heavily, his throat clenching painfully. "Just like mine."

She seemed to gain awareness of her surroundings, and stared straight back at Harry. Her pink lips opened slowly in surprise as she stared at him.

Then, she looked down, and realised the state of her attire.

She looked back up, staring at Harry, this time with bright pink cheeks, and panicked wide eyes. Her freckles on her cheek seemed to be lightning up alongside her blushing.

She was really damn cute.

And then she screamed.

It was a high pitched girly scream, and when the sunrise had only just started, the sound was piercingly loud in the boys dorm in Gryffindor tower. Harry's four poster bed had it's curtains drawn, but he knew it was only a matter of moments until one of the boys would tear them open, wondering what was happening.

Panicking, Harry looked around for something to help. Curiously, he spotted his invisibility cloak lying on his bed, by the girl's lap.

"How did you get there?" He asked himself. "I definitely left you in my trunk."

The sound of stumbling footsteps from outside of his curtains snapped him into action. He grabbed his wand, and before the girl could react, hit her with a silencing charm. She was still screaming, her cheeks flushed with the effort, but no sound was escaping. Then quickly, he leapt over the bed, grabbed the cloak by yanking it out from beneath her, and threw it over her head.

It wasn't a moment too soon. By the time the soft material had fluttered to her hips and covered her completely, the curtains were torn open.

"Hell, Harry, are you alright?"

Harry turned to Neville, who looked pale as a ghost. Considering the earlier scream, Harry reckoned the poor bloke probably thought there was a ghost in here with them. Maybe Peeves. Behind Neville, Dean and Seamus were blearily looking over, wiping the sleep from their eyes. A small, disappointed part of Harry noticed that Ron wasn't there.

"Yeah! I mean, yeah. I'm alright," Harry said quickly, stammering over his words.

"We heard a scream?" Seamus asked in his familiar Irish accent.

"Uh, yeah. That was me," Harry said.

"It sounded pretty girly," Dean commented suspiciously.

"Umm, yeah. That was me alright. I get bad nightmares, y'know. Then I wake up and I… just scream. Like a girl. Totally me."

"Right…" Dean said slowly. Then he chuckled. Then Seamus chuckled. Then the two burst out laughing. They continued laughing all the way back to their beds, content to get some more sleep before breakfast time.

Neville stayed, and although he wasn't laughing, he was sporting an amused grin.

"They're not going to let that go for a long time," Neville noted.

"Ahhhhh" Seamus shouted from his bed in the highest pitch he could manage.

Harry growled when Neville chuckled, but the boy quickly held up his hands in truce.

"You sure you're alright, Harry?" Neville asked, real concern in his voice, and Harry wondered when the last time Ron had ever asked him that. Shaking his head to dispel the negative thoughts, he brought his attention back to his roommate.

"I'm-" Harry was going to say fine, but upon recalling that there was a silenced, screaming, invisible but naked girl in his bed, he wondered if that word was actually appropriate. "Not fine, but I'll be alright. Thanks for checking, Nev."

"Sure thing, Harry." He yawned, stretching his arms wide, before heading back to his bed. He did pause halfway across the room though. "By the way, I believe you Harry."

"Huh?"

"I don't think you put your name in the Goblet."

Harry's heart warmed. He should trust Neville more. The bloke had never let him down.

"Thanks Nev. Means a lot."

Neville nodded, and then fell into his bed. Soft snoring coming from his curtains seconds later told Harry he was fast asleep.

Carefully, Harry pulled his bed curtains closed tightly, really trying to make sure there were no gaps. Then, he turned towards the empty bed with a divot in the middle.

"Alright," he whispered. "I'm going to undo the silencing spell. Then, I'm going to turn around. When you're covered up, tap me on the shoulder, okay?"

He waited until he got a confirmation, until realising she was silenced. Rolling his eyes, he pointed his wand in her general direction.

"Finite" he whispered, then turned around. He could now hear the soft breathing, and the rustling of the sheets as the girl moved around. He put his entirety into keeping his head looking straight ahead.

He would resist the temptation.

He would not turn around.

He would not turn and look.

He would not-

He jumped as a soft hand prodded his shoulder. He was jittery, and he needed to regain control. Calming himself, he turned around, and gulped at what he saw.

She was no longer naked, but if it was possible, she now looked even more charming. She had wrapped the bed sheet around herself twice, tucked under the armpits, and slipped the top edge into her front, just below the collarbones. She looked innocent, and pure. Like an angel wrapped in a Greek toga, he thought. Her brilliant red hair spilled out behind her. It was the most perfect colour. Not obnoxious and vivid like a Weasley's might, but deep red, like crimson bleeding.

He found himself staring into her green eyes again. They were so familiar. He knew they were the exact same as his own, if perhaps prettier to look at. She was staring at him too. Not angrily, as she probably should be, but there was a sternness to her gaze, as if daring him to look at her bare again.

"Hi," she said simply. Her voice was soft, definitely girly, but with a firm resolve behind it.

"What are- how did- why- where did-" Harry stammered over his questions, uncertain as where to start. Eventually he settled on one question.

"Who are you?"

AN/

Hmm.

Let me know.

Cheers

-Council.