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Blakey Potter had always been an odd girl. From a young age she had reoccurring dreams about what she assumed was her life before she was left at Privet Prison. They were all just flashes, but they were seared into her brain. A big black dog floating into her crib. A flash of green light and red hair. A stuffed rat getting thrown into the fire. A man's barking laugh. Her hand clutching glasses on a man with hazel eyes' face. A chubby faced baby in a woman's lap smiling. The same baby pushing a ball between the two of them. And the longest one was a lullaby in a soft, lilting, Irish toned woman's voice signing:

Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach

Tá do dheaid ag teacht gan mhoill ón chnoc
Agus cearca fraoich ar láimh leis
Agus codlaidh go ciúin 'do luí sa choid
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach

Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach

Tá an samhradh ag teacht le grian is le teas
Agus duilliúr ghlas ar phrátaí
Tá an ghaoth ag teacht go fial aneas
Agus gheobhaimid iasc amárach

Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach

Blakely still did not know what the song meant, but she could never forget it and hoped she never did.

Life at Privet Prison had never been pleasant to say the least. Blakely grew up doing chores meant for people much older than herself almost as soon as she could reach what was needed to do them. Four was when she started doing little things, making beds, picking up after her cousin, sweeping, dusting. She started cooking at about five and not getting fed for making things badly makes you learn fairly quickly. At six she started doing all the laundry in the house and most of the yard work at that point though she knew her relatives would never love her and what they were doing was wrong, but also that no one would ever believe her.

That was the age she started creating her masks. The mask of an aloof, intelligent child for school. The mask of a subservient and silent child for home. The mask of happy go lucky little girl was one she knew she could pull off, but also knew she never would never get a chance to use. The mask at school helped keep her cousin away from her when it was clear it would garner no reaction from her. She mostly staid in the library at school reading all she could, but never taking any home over the worry they would be confiscated.

When she was at home, or Privet Prison as she liked to call it, she did all that was asked of her diligently in hopes they would just ignore her. It worked. Her relatives only spoke to her to tell her to do something additional as she had the same routine everyday before and after school.

Wake up at 5:30, make breakfast, get her uncle the paper and set it by his food, go to her cupboard to change into her best clothes for school, wait to see of there were any left overs while making herself and Dudley lunch, if there were left overs she ate them quickly while going up stairs to make the beds, straighten Dudley's room a little if she had time, grab her backpack from her cupboard and then wait in the car, but if she would be waiting for longer than three minutes she started on chores she would have to do when she got home. Then her Uncle Vernon drove her cousin and her to their primary school were they went to they're, thankfully, separate registrar groups. In fact she and Dudley would only see each other at lunch and even then it was only for a little while as she went to the library and he to the playground when they were through eating. In the library she would either do any homework due for the next day or if she had finished read a book. After school was over Dudley and Blakely would wait for Uncle Vernon to pick them up and take them home. Dudley usually went to play while Blakely did a myriad of chores. By the time she had dinner finished she had gotten the mail, done any laundry that needed doing made sure every room was neat, that there were no weeds in the garden and the plants looked nice, and she had changed out of her nicer clothes she wore to school. After dinner she cleared after eating with them and then cleaned the kitchen and finished any homework she might have. Then she went to her cupboard to sleep if there was anything else she was to do after taking a shower and completing her nightly ablutions while the family watched TV. The next day she repeated the process except on weekend were on Saturdays the family usually went on an outing leaving her home to do any chores and Sundays were they went to church and went to brunch at their country club with friends. She loved the weekends because she was always left at home by herself.

Now years later very few things had changed on the outside except both children were gone from the house for almost ten months of the year. The only thing that had changed was Blakely no longer lived in the cupboard under the stairs, but in the room besides her cousin's, which used to house his toys, but now was home to Blakely and her meagre possessions ever since she was ten. Other than that whenever she was home things were the same. She was quiet and did her chores and her relatives didn't bother her. She was very glad that her relatives at least trusted her to have her things in her room, even if they were magical, and had needed no persuasion to allow her to keep them. The only other chore that was added was the grocery shopping. Her family would drive her to their local Tesco on their way to church were she would pick up the food needed of that week, pay for it with the money Vernon gave her, and wait for them to pick her up while she ate her lunch. Having her do the shopping also had the added advantage of not having to ask her aunt for feminine products.

Today though was not Sunday, nor was it even daytime. It was a Thursday and it was the middle of the night. And sleeping in number four Privet Drive was the Dursley family, Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, along with their personal maid and niece Blakely Potter. Her room though was not what you would expect an almost sixteen years old girl's room to look. No her room had blue walls, from the time it had been Dudley's, and a twin bed with a matching desk and wardrobe which all had seen better days. By the foot of her bed was a trunk and it was filled with things that made her that odd little girl she had been before she made her masks. What was in the trunk was not the only thing that made it odd, what made the trunk even more unbelievable was that is was bigger on the outside than it was in. Inside the special trunk were folded black robes and green and silver trimmed uniforms, a winter cloak, dress robes, a pointed hat, dragon hide gloves, spell books, a caldron, a telescope, scales, phials, rolls of parchment, quills, ink bottles and a broom. The trunk was neat and tidy, not that you could see that as it was closed. Inside the wardrobe there was a pile of hand knit sweaters, seeming to catalogue the growth of their owner, three pairs of jeans, four pairs of shorts, eight T-shirts, two pairs of trainers, one ratty and the other very new, a pair heels, a pair of Mary Jane's, a pile of bras, a stack of socks and underwear, and what appeared to be her loo kit. On top of the desk were more rolls of parchment, most written on, some with symbols and others words or numbers, ink bottles, and quills, along with a bird cage and a stack of news papers with moving pictures. On the bed was dark green sheet, which covered a girl, who if standing who not reach more than 5’3”. This girl had dark locks of hair that covered her pillow and hung down the side of the bed. She was very pale, but had a smattering of freckles across her nose, high aristocratic cheek bones, rosy coloured lips.

Blakely was not sleeping as soundly as her relatives though, no she was tossing and turning and quietly whimpering. To put it simply she was having a nightmare. She was reliving the recent death of her godfather, who she had seen die, a little over a month ago. He had been killed by his cousin, Blakely's second, Bellatrix Lestrange. Blakely had blamed herself for his death for a while, but realised she had done all she could to verify her 'vision' and it was truly not her fault. No, the blame lay at the feet of three people and one elf, Dumbledore, Bellatrix, Sirius himself and Kreacher. Dumbledore for keeping important information from her, Bellatrix for casting the curse, Sirius for not taking the duel seriously, and Kreacher from preventing her from verifying the 'vision. ' If Blakely had to guess Sirius had reverted to duelling how he and Bellatrix would have growing up.

During her examination of the events leading up to the battle, Blakley had also noticed some things that bothered her. One, Dumbledore had been manipulating her from day one. She had always suspected it, but he had confirmed it for her during their conversation in his office after the battle. Two, she did not want to be the wizarding world's golden little Light girl. They had repeated turned their backs on her and never even apologised for it. And she was a Slytherin for Merlin's sake! Why anyone would expect her to risk her life for them was beyond her.

Okay, maybe. She could guess they would assume she wanted to, but all those 'adventures' she went on were for good reasons at least she thought so even looking back at them.

First year, saving the philosopher's stone with Daphne, Tracey and Blaise, now that was totally a set up looking back on it, but she had only done it because at the time she had worshiped her parent's memories and didn't want their murder coming back to life.
Second year, Chamber of Secrets, well that one was for three reasons. One she really thought she would get the blame because of her Parseltounge ability and the fact she really disliked all the people attacked. Two she had just really wanted to meet the basilisk and so did Draco, which was why he came along. They hadn't done it to save the girl, well maybe a little because the third reason was because she was Fred and George's little sister.

Third year, Sirius Black, well that was self explanatory, to her at least. She had been outside riding on her broom right before curfew and not wanting to be caught had used the Marauder's Map, she'd nicked off the twins after the professors had told her she was not allowed to leave the castle even though her Aunt had signed her slip because, "Black was after her." While using the map she had seen Peter Pettigrew's name on the map and had been disturbed to see a supposedly dead man moving on it. So she had followed the dot only for it to disappeared off the map by the Whomping Willow. The tree was frozen when she got there so she had jumped on her broom, which she had used to follow the dot quickly and went down the hole she saw. When she arrived there she found a dog sleeping and an ugly man pointing a wand at the dog. She had screamed gaining both's attention. The dog had used the man's momentary distraction to bite him and while the dog was doing that she stunned the man. From there the dog transformed into her godfather who she had calmly pointed her wand at with a demand to explain. He did and was cleared by the Ministry, but unfortunately due to some Auror's incompetence Wormtail was able to escape. But due to Dumbledore and her godfather's health Blakely was unable to move in with him before her forth year. He had gotten to take her to the World Cup, and stay together after, but that was only for about a week.

Forth year, Tri-Wizard Tournament, oh don't get her started, first she was entered against her own will and unable to pull out and then they try to kill her, over and over agqin. First with a dragon, I mean who in their right mind, oh there we are, uses nesting dragons. Second in the lake as she'd never learned to swim. She found it funny that they used Draco as her hostage, I mean they were cousins. Even if he had taken her to the Yule ball, as cousins, as friends only, but oh no Ms. Rita Skeeter obviously knew better and assumed they were 'romantically involved.' Two things, one, eww incest, okay magic negates it, but still, two, umm, Draco's betrothed to one of her good friend's Pansy. Third they tried to kill her with, well everything.

Then she had taken the cup and ended up in the grave yard. That stupid little rat had given her the jump and stunned her before she even knew what was going on, then she finds herself tied to a grave, and then the little bastard had the nerve to take her blood. Well, that would have been fine and dandy, but then Voldemort came out of the caldron and summoned his followers, including her cousin's husband, Lucius Malfoy. That prick seriously got on her nerves, he didn't deserve to be married to a Black. Then they fought, but only for two reasons. One, he would lose face in front of his Death Eaters. Two, she didn't want to die especially on the ground, she didn't really care if did, but she would be dammed before she died begging or pleading. So she fought and then got away. Arriving back at Hogwarts bloodied and bruised holding the cup. And then that stupid bastard, who played her DADA professor all year, had tried to kill her. Then Dumbledore decided it was a brilliant idea to make her rehash the whole thing to just him, not even inviting the Minister so he might believe her or her godfather for moral support. Then the stupid dementors attacked the imposter, Barty Crouch Jr. Then after all that she was finally escorted to the Hospital Wing and still not allowed to live with her godfather.
Then came the summer where her godfather barely wrote her. Even Draco, Theo, Pansy, Greg, Vince, and the other kids with Death Eater parents wrote her more. She had been extremely upset with him only to get attacked by more dementors on her way home from delivering something to a neighbour for her aunt, she only got a warning about doing magic as it was her first offence. And then the chaos that is the Order came to "rescue" her and she got to spend to the rest of her summer with the entire Weasley family, and the uppity Granger girl. She loved the twins, but the rest of that family she knew really got to her. Not only did Mrs. Weasley try under mining Sirius' power in his own house, but had looked down on her and treated her as a child. She had not been a child since her parents died. What had been worse was she took it all without complaint because she knew it would be easier to that's trying to correct the awful woman.

Fifth year, oh boy. Let's just sum it up in a few words. Umbitch. Oh wait that's only one. That woman had tried to make Blakely's life hell, not that Blakely let her, but she also caused strife within the snake pit. Then those dammed 'visions' and Dumbledore trying to get her to learn Occlumency, which she had already known. He still had her Head of House give her lessons, the same Head of House who hated her even if he didn't show it in front of anyone not a snake. He almost destroyed her all her protections by tearing into her mind. Then the fake 'vision' came of Voldemort torturing Sirius in the middle of the night after her last O.W.L. exam. She instantly tried to call him on the mirror he had given her years ago that they used to talk to each other sometimes. He hadn't answered. He always answered so she flooed to the Ministry using the Room of Requirement, an elf had shown her when she was in the kitchen one day depressed and asked if they knew a room where no one could find her in was, after trying to go to Snape, who was not there, but she left a note with. When she arrived at the Ministry she immediately knew where to go as she had seen the door before and after Sirius' and Wormtail's trials and had been dreaming about it for months. She entered the room and was able to find the room she wanted after propping the doors open with a spell to not close and checking them. She then found not Sirius, but the prophecy that had been kept from her for years. Only four Death Eaters were there and lucky for her they were all family. Lucius, Bellatrix, her husband, and his brother. Blakely was able to distract them long enough to knock over some of the prophecies and lose them in the maze that was the Department of Mysteries, but not for long. They caught up with her in what she now knew as the death chamber. Then the Order had arrived. Tonks, Kingsley, Mad-Eye, and Sirius. Then she smashed the prophesy, even if it had her name on it that didn't mean it was true, and it hadn't specified, which Dark Lord either. The duels had been coming to an end with the order on top, but Bellatrix and Sirius were getting closer to the veil. And Sirius had been joking with her and she hit him with a curse that propelled him through the veil.

That was the first time Blakely had lost all of her masks since she'd created them. Tonks, who had a just downed Lucius, had caught her and prevented her from rushing through the veil, but then one of the brother's had injured Kingsley and Tonks had rushed to help her fellow Auror. Blakely had rushed after Bellatrix, furious that Bellatrix had not only killed her godfather, but the Black Head of House. She was holding Bellatrix under the cruciatus when Voldemort arrived and began clapping causing her to spin around letting Bellatrix escape. And then Dumbledore arrived and duelled Voldemort. The duel was spectacular to watch, but was a draw until Voldemort tried to possess Blakely. But she was able to use her torn Occlumency shields to push him out. The Minister had then arrived to see Voldemort leaving. Dumbledore then portkeyed her away into his locked office were he left her for quite some time, enough that she was able to mask her emotions again. He then told her the prophecy she now assumed was a invalid:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."

She had made a list while grieving over Sirius as to ways the prophecy could be negated even if it was not a fake.
I am NOT a boy!
'neither can lives while the other survives' if we are both 'living'
The seventh month could be September; Sept= 7
Does not specify which Dark Lord, could be decades away and the 'Chosen One' would still be 'approaching'
To vanquish- to conquer or subdue by superior force, as in battle; to defeat in any contest or conflict; be victorious over; to overcome or overpower. Is not defined as getting rid of forever; could have been completed '81, '92, '93, '95, or '96
'die at the hand of the other' Halloween '81; technically dead?

Suddenly Blakely, who had been thrashing about relaxed in her sleep for the first time since her godfather died.

—•••BDP/TMR•••—

In Blakely's mind she arrived in the kitchen of a small cottage. She wondered around in it dressed in an overly large T-shirt that hung off both her shoulders and reached her knees. She explored the house and saw that it was furnished and fully liveable, but there were no personal items or clothes. She walked back into the kitchen and looked in the fridge to see it full of food and noticed the pantry was too. So Blakely got out all the supplies and ingredients to make her favourite dessert Treacle Tart. She was almost done with the pastry when someone cleared their throat in an amused way. Blakely shrieked, turning around to see who was there while she clutched her heart. Who she saw was someone she would recognise anywhere. Standing in what she now thought of as her kitchen was a twenty year old Tom Riddle. He too was only dressed in sleep clothes,wearing only green silk boxers. Their eyes roamed the other's body unconsciously. Blakely then blushed when she realised what she was doing and self consciously tugged at he cousin's old shirt that was dangerously low on her frame.

"What are you doing here?" She asked crossing her arms over here chest. Unaware that it brought Tom's attention to her chest where her nipples where straining against the fabric she had brought tight across her breasts when she crossed her arms.
His light green eyes darkened a bit as he responded, "I could ask you the same thing." He sat down on one or the bar stools by the island and leaned his back up against the counter. Blakely's eyes followed him warily, unconsciously noticing how his muscles flexed when he leaned. The timer for her pastry went off, but neither of them went to turn it off, both staring each other down. "Aren't you gonna get that?" Tom asked her his voicing teasing. She narrowed her eyes at him, but removed the dish from the oven and set it to cool. Ignoring him she got two plates from a cabinet and served two slices then added a scoop of ice cream each. Blakely got two forks before setting his plate down in front of him and going to sit next to him. They ate their desserts in silence, Tom only eating after she did.

After a few bites she turned her body to face his and asked, "How long were you watching me?"

He shrugged before finishing off his mouthful and saying, "Maybe a few minutes, why?"

She shook her head looking confused, "It's nothing really."

His voice turned to the one she recognised as Voldemort's, "Tell me." It was a command, one that promised punishment if she did not answer.

Her face gave nothing away, instantly retreating behind an unfeeling mask, "I can usually tell when someone is in a room with me."
Her face was stony before suddenly asking, "Are you asleep? Is this a dream?"

His voice lost its Voldemort tone before saying, "Yes I am and I believe you are too correct?" She nodded so he continued, "I think this is because when I possessed you I opened the connection between our minds further."

Blakley considered this before asking, "Why is it just starting now and not a month ago?"

He looked unsure before reaching a conclusion and saying, "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

She looked at him incredulously before saying, "What makes you think that?" Her tone was harsh, angry.

"I know that because I believe we both have to be in a deep sleep before reaching this place, whatever it is, is possible."

Blakley was convinced, it made the most sense. "Who told you the first part of the prophecy?"

Tom looked extremely confused befriend asking, "Why do you want to know?"

Blakley smirked before saying, "So I know who to blame for my parents death besides, Wormtail and Dumbledore," she spat out the names like they were dirt in her mouth.

Tom quirked his head to the side, "You don't blame me?"

She shook her head, "No actually. It was a war they weren't on your side, they had fought you at least three times. Their child may have been prophesied to vanquish you. You had every right." She looked at him biting her bottom lip, "You tried to spare my mother."

Most of the colour had vanished from Tom's face, "How the hell do you know that?"

"I've dreamed about that night since I was little and what I didn't know the dementors filled in for me."

They finished their pastries in silence before Tom said, "Snape. Snape told me."

Blakely looked shocked. Then furious. She stood up kicking her chair over and shouted, "That fucking bastard! I'm gonna kill him! First he calls her a mudblood, then he signs her death warrant. Ugh he'll wish he was fucking dead by the time I'm done with him! And he fucking trashed my Occlumency shields, what the fuck is his problem. He could have fucking killed me. And I told them it wouldn't fucking work!" Her breathing was heavy as she raved.

Tom was surprised to note the lights were flickering. He stood up quickly and backed Blakely up against the fridge, "Potter! Potter dammit get a hold of yourself! Blakely!" Perhaps it was hearing her name or noticing she had her hands on his bare chest as she tried to break free, but she calmed. As she did neither of them moved. Tom with his hands braced on either side of her head on the fridge. Blakely with her hands on his chest, her shirt drooping in the front so the tops of her breasts were revealed. They stared into the other's eyes. Blakely looking up as he was 6’3”. When she was calm Tom said slowly, "You almost did accidental magic."

She nodded still staring into his eyes, "I haven't done any thing like that in almost a decade, but then again, I've also never been that mad," her confession was whispered.

Tom was surprised at that, "Really for that long, I'm surprised actually. I would have guessed that you did a lot as a child."

"I unknowingly began to learn Occlumency at about six, it stopped most of it."

"How the hell did you manage to do that? And why?"

"I made masks to hide under to protect myself mostly from my relatives, but also my cousin's friends. If they got no reaction out of me then why would they bully me. It worked. I'm ignored in my own home, but at least they leave me alone as long as they don't need me to do something."

"What do they have you do?" Tom despite himself was curious.

"Cook, clean, garden, you name a chore I can almost guarantee I've done it."

"And you like these Muggles?" Tom did not understand how she could.

Blakely looked genuinely surprised he asked that, "Of course I don't, but it's not as bad as it was at least I have a room now."

"Have. A. Room. Now." He was incensed, how dare these Muggles treat a witch like that.

"Umm, well, you see I used to live in the cupboard under the stairs?" She looked, for the first time ever in his presence, afraid.

"And yet you fight for these Muggles, for the Light, for Dumbledore."

"I don't fight for them, I don't even know if I want to fight at all."

"What? Why?"

"No one ever asked me if I wanted to fight. It was always assumed I would fight for the Light even after I got into Slytherin. I was never asked what I wanted, why I've done the things I have. They assume that because I'm the Girl Who Lived," she spat out the title, "That I want to be the little sacrificial lamb and hate the Dark. That I'd fight for my parents memory. Or maybe even for my magic hating relatives."

"So do you? Do you want to fight me? Do you want to stay with the Light? Do you hate the Dark?"

"No, I don't. I'm tired of fighting. I don't want to stay with the Light because I never was. You saw my cruciatus curse of Bellatrix, it was easy, it was fun. I would have killed her if you hadn't shown up. How could I hate the Dark when that's what I am."

"You don't want to fight?" Tom was stunned.

"Correct. I, Blakely Dorea Potter, give you my vow that I will not knowingly attack anyone belonging to Tom Marvolo Riddle's side, also known as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, You Know Who, and He who must not be named. Excluding Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Peter Pettigrew, and Severus Snape. So mote it be." Blakely's right hand flashed sealing her witch's vow.

"I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, give you my vow that I will never knowingly attack or give orders for Blakely Dorea Potter, also known as the Girl Who Lived and the Chosen One, to be attacked. So mote it be." Tom's hand flashed the same way Blakely's had. "Do you know the prophecy?" Tom almost begged.

Blakely laughed and replied, "Yes, but I think it's a load of dragon dung."

Tom almost pouted when she didn't elaborate. Then got a wicked idea from remember her reaction when he first got there. "Will you please tell me what the prophecy is," as he said that he removed his left hand from the fridge and traced patterns on her bare shoulders with his finger.

Blakely had to suppress a moan. No one had ever touched her like that. "Yes."

Tom smirked triumphantly as she answered with her eyes closed, but smirked even more when she didn't tell him immediately. He brought his hand lower so it traced the neck of her oversized T-shirt, her breath caught when he reached to top of her breasts. He bent down to whisper in her ear, "Do you trust me?" She nodded with her eyes still closed and her hands moved up to reach his shoulders. Now it was his turn for his breath to catch. "Open your eyes Blakey," her eyes snapped open and her breathing got heavier. "Now open your mind and think of the Prophecy. When your ready nod your head and look into my eyes." Blakely took a minute to centre herself then nodded and locked eyes with him.

Tom gently pushed against her mind and finding it free of shields dove in and saw through Blakely's eyes the pensive memory of Sybil Trelawney saying in a harsh voice, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..." The voice faded and list on parchment in red ink read, "Reasons the Prophecy is invalid :
I am NOT a boy!
'neither can lives while the other survives' if we are both 'living'
The seventh month could be September; Sept= 7
Does not specify which Dark Lord, could be decades away and the 'Chosen One' would still be 'approaching'
To vanquish- to conquer or subdue by superior force, as in battle; to defeat in any contest or conflict; be victorious over; to overcome or overpower. Is not defined as getting rid of forever; could have been completed '81, '92, '93, '95, or '96
'die at the hand of the other' Halloween '81; technically dead?" Tom pulled out of her mind and was quiet.

"Tom?" Her soft voice broke through his thoughts, "Are you okay?"

Her voice had a quality in it Tom could not identify. He nodded slowly, "It's just odd to think that I've spent so long obsessing over something you dissected and basically disproved in a day."