Of Badly Hidden Lies (and figuring out cool magic shit)

They think your kindness is so weak/Know you don't give it up so easy, baby

A soft, boney, finger traced the side of a crib. In it were toys of all sorts. Soft bunnies and cows, an elephant, and even a toy broom. The room was colourful, but the being's demeanour seemed to dampen the atmosphere.

"Your child will be beautiful, Lily of the Valley." A ghostly-looking man said. His fingers slowly squeezed the front of the crib, splintering the wood.

"Who are you? Get out of my house!" Lily yelled, her red hair shining and frayed. It flew behind her as if the wind was pushing it back. Her green eyes, which watched the being carefully, shone with magic.

"I am your family's saviour," He gestured to the woman's stomach. "He will know this too, in time. Listen to me carefully, if you want to save your child's life."

obhl

Harry woke with a start, his wand clenched tightly in his hand. This was the seventh time this week he had had that dream, and it was Tuesday. Every time he fell asleep, the dream replayed over and over again. He knew the woman with fiery red hair and determined eyes was his mother, Lily. Who he didn't know was the creature that stared at her, lined in a dementor's cloak and wispy hair that looked like the mane of a unicorn. And at Privet Drive, one couldn't simply go and check the library.

Harry stood up, his knees sore and battered from yesterday's work. And the day before that. And this whole summer. The pain never left.

Rubbing lightly at his scar, Harry walked over to Hedwig's cage. The snowy owl hadn't been seen in a few days, and Harry had no clue when she would return. He looked at the mirror behind it. Next to it? and stared. His skin was lighter than normal, almost a snowy pale. Which didn't make sense, regarding how much time he had spent outside this summer. Removing his shirt, he noticed his whole upper body had changed. Gone were the soft chest hairs he had been growing, but now white skin. Harry knew his father had been Tongan-Romanian, which explained his normal darker complexion and black hair. However, now it seems as if his skin matched his mothers completely. Even his hair was different, falling in neater sections than his normally unruly bird's nest.

"You better be up!" He heard from behind the door. Before he could say anything, it was thrown open. Harry stared at his aunt, her face morphing from rage to shock. Her gaze travelled from his eyes, to what Harry assumed was his nose, to his chest.

"You." Harry stared at her unimpressed.

"Me, what, Aunt Petunia? I was just getting dressed."

"You bloody freak!" She roared. Normally, Uncle Vernon or his cousin Dudley was the one to raise their voice like this, not his aunt. It was, truthfully, a little frightening. The shouting didn't stop.

"You look just like them, and you dare to keep living in my home? I could take it while you looked like Potter, but now- we told Dumbledore that this would happen, but he never believed us! Pack your things and leave FREAK!" Aunt Petunia threw the towel she held in her hands at Harry and slammed the door shut.

"Bloody hell." Harry said to himself, before mentally shrugging. If Petunia was going to let him leave, then he was going to take it. Throwing everything he had ever gotten out of his trunk back in, he stared around his room.

Well, it wasn't his room. It was always going to be Dudley's second bedroom. Thundering footsteps sounded the said teenagers' entrance.

"Mom said she's finally kicking you out. Going to your boyfriends' house, you poof?" Harry rolled his eyes, but inwardly his heart ached. If only. There were a lot of "if only"s when it came to Cedric. When it came to the whole goblet situation. "Why do you look so weird?" Dudley asked, a quizzical look on his whale of a face.