Chapter 1 | The Summoning

Seven.

Seven is the most powerful number according to Tiolori Arithman, the wizard who first founded Arithmancy.

Seven is also the number of people required in the ritual of summoning the Master of Death, or perhaps even Death itself. No one seemed to know who or what would come out of the runic portal as none of them had the courage to carry through it, and even if they did, they didn't have the right tools.

Dumbledore had discovered this nonsensical ritual whilst reading one of his old tomes. He had both the motivation and the tools required to offer the being, which is the Deathly Hallows — the resurrection stone, the cloak of invisibility and last but not least, the elder wand.

He was confident that he would be able to gather six trusted participants to help him with it. And as he predicted, when brought up, his Order were all more than willing to help for the sake of the Greater Good.

So there they were, in an unplotted land that James had generously offered, standing around a runic pentagram as each person stood evenly away from one another, while a crowd stood by further away. They were members of his Order who he had assigned to be alert for if anything happens.

When they were ready to begin, chantings began filling the air as sound waves started to pulse rapidly from the centre — some of the audiences even gotten knocked off of their feet from how strong the force was. Then when they finished reciting, on his cue, they all cut their palms before letting a drop of their blood fall onto the runes, staining the grass beneath as it seeped into the ground.

The air within the pentagram seemed to shift along with the earth, and the three Hallows that he had put in there didn't move an inch as dirt climbed up by itself against the nature of gravity and formed some sort of dome.

It was only when the frantic pulsing stopped, did everything calm down. The dome made out of dirt followed suit by crumbling down on itself, revealing a small figure hunched on the ground.

With bated breath, nobody moved nor made a sound.

They have been warned by Dumbledore that the being that they were summoning would be the legendary Master of Death, so they should keep their manners and act accordingly.

A minute passed.

And then it became two.

Five whole minutes of nothing, the younger crowd of the Order began to feel restless.

Ten minutes in, people started to calm down and the ones closest to Dumbledore sent him hushed whispers of doubts.

Then finally, barely fifteen minutes in, the figure twitched. Some who had caught the movement let out a loud gasp while others whipped their heads to see what had prompted the sharp intakes of their fellow members.

A high-pitched groan was emitted from it and when it moved, there was a sound of clothes rustling as some of the leftover dirt slid off onto the ground.

There, standing right where they'd just been summoned, was a girl, who looked young enough to still be in Hogwarts.

Though don't let it fool you, as her attributes made it more believable that she was the Master of Death. Her hair was as black as the night sky, her skin pale white like a vampire's, and her striking eyes imitated the colour of one of the unforgivables.

They were too shocked to register that she also adorned a pair of black cat ears as well as a tail.

"What the fuck."

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Just as she opened her eyes, Harri Potter immediately realized that something wasn't right and quickly stood up, she ignored the soreness radiating from her muscles in favour of seeing what she was currently dealing with.

Seeing the three all-too-familiar objects near her feet, she quickly snatched it and took on a defensive stance. With the cloak covering her back, the stone on her left hand and the wand on her right, she's never felt anymore safer.

Brushing off the dirt that had somehow appeared on her stature, Harri looked around to see the most confusing sight she's ever seen.

She was standing inside of a runic circle, which several people were standing around of. Said people had their hands outstretched as it continued to bleed into the ground. And even though she could she some familiar faces, there was just something not right about them.

Sirius, Severus and Remus looked slightly different than when she had last seen them, they all looked more like their ages — no scars, less wrinkles around their faces and their eyes didn't seem to hold the same horrors that she's used to see.

There were also the fact that at least two people who she knows for a fact should be dead as she had mourned for them during her entire first year.

"How am I here? Who are you?" She asked firmly as her mind scrambled to figure out how in the bloody hell she got there.

Her ears flattened against her hair while her tail bristled in instinctive alertness when she saw the seemingly leader of the group approach her with a condescending smile.

Albus friggin' Dumbledore.

She still remember his face when she last saw him in the court — mouth turning into an ugly sneer as aurors dragged him into a holding cell.

So how is he here? And moreover, why is he acting civil?

The old man raised his empty hands up to the air in attempt to appear harmless, which she probably would have fallen for had she not already known that he's mastered the art of wandless magic.

"Master of Death, correct? We have summoned you from your parallel universe to ask for your assistance in defeating the evil Dark Lord Voldemort."

Sickly green eyes widened and Harri felt like she had been doused by cold water. "You mean that— you've forcefully pulled me from my world to help you with your own damn problem?!" She immediately snarled, tail bristling even more in fury.

Before Dumbledore could give any of his excuses, a red light flashed in the corner of her eye. Harri ducked under the spell sent her way and jumped away from the crowd. In a fluid motion, she sent back a series of powerful spells before finishing off with an incarcerous. She did the same thing to several other people who had also followed suit to attack her.

She then accio-ed the perpetrators towards her so that none could set them free of their ropes and trapped them by conjuring up a powerful shield dome. She ignored the cries of surprise that it caused— well, if they wanted to join them, they could just ask.

"Brilliant, you asked for my help, yet you attack me? Yeah, such perfect hospitality." Harri scoffed, twirling the elder wand in her right while the other summoned the wands left on the ground — the stone had long vanished into her robes.

One of the prisoners bared his teeth in hostility — Alastor Moody, he was easy to recognize as the man had the most unique features, with scars and a prosthetic magical eye adorning his face. "You obviously don't favour that idea — a potentially powerful enemy should not be spared! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!" He protested, the others were nodding along as though they all had the same thought.

She gave a dry snort. Even if that Moody guy had been genuine in his motto, she doubt that the others also had the same track of mind.

Staring blanking into the dome, she let her gaze hover over the other prisoners. They flinched slightly when their eyes met her gaze and not without a good reason too. She knows that her eyes were glowing eerily, very similar to the Killing Curse.

She recognized Ronald Weasley, Ginerva Weasley and Hermione Granger from her time in Hogwarts, there was a pink-haired woman, a man with a violet top hat, a man with unruly black hair whom she presumed as her supposedly dead father, James Potter, and—

Harri blinked in surprise when she saw someone who seemed familiar, yet at the same time was not. The raven head boy was also looking at her with wide eyes, realizing something that only the two of them were privy to.

Walking closer to the raven, green-avada kedavra eyes clashed against the deep-emerald-green eyes. The girl phased through the barrier and crouched in front of the boy, her tail reached around to brush at his cheek curiously.

James was shouting profanities at her, threatening her not to do anything to his son. Lily was holding her breath with dread, the only thing holding her in place was Remus's hand on her shoulder. The others were silent, watching the scene with rapid attention. The three children started to frantically scream 'Harry', a name similar to hers, yet also different.

"Harry." She rolled the name on her tongue and tilted her head in confusion, "Are you supposed to be me?"

"I– I— Maybe? I dunno– Do you think so?" This so-called 'Harry Potter' stuttered in response.

Harri continued to stare for a minute before nodding firmly, "I would believe so, yes." She waved her hand to vanish the ropes off the boy, as well as from others.

She stood silently for a while, her limbs unmoving aside from her tail, which was still swaying in a constant rhythm. Then she turned around to where Dumbledore has been standing and smirked, seeming to have come to a conclusion. Her tail swishing in a faster pace with mischief.

This was probably the most interesting, non-life-threathening scenario she had ever been in.

"Colour me intrigued, old man. I suppose I could see what you have to offer."

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Sitting around the table, in a place called The Burrow, were the same seven people who stood around the pentagram circle. They introduced themselves to her — Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Dedalus Diggle, James Potter and Lily Potter.

The several other adults who were present during the ritual — Severus Snape, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Alice Longbottom and Frank Longbottom — were either standing or sitting at a couch nearby. The children were locked in a fairly large bedroom, courtesy of the Weasley Matriarch, so they wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on any sensitive information.

Slowly looking around the room, Harri rested her head onto her palm. "My name is Harri Potter," She started, observing every expressions that she could, "I am fourteen-years old and was about to enter my fourth year in Hogwarts." Her tail swayed lazily in the air as she continued, "In my world, I am called the Girl-Who-Lived, the Child-Who-Won, the Tragic Heroine, and the Master of Death."

"Tragic Heroine?" She heard a men, whom she recognized as Dedalus Diggle, snorted. "What was so tragic about you, cat-girl?"

Tilting her head, Harri pursed her lips. The man seemed to still hold a grudge for disarming him in less than a minute. "I do not think that it is in your right to know, and even if you did, I doubt that you'd appreciate my hardships." She quipped back, quite annoyed by his bigotry.

Diggle smiled smugly, "Oh no, no, tell us. I want to know if you really know anything about hardships in the adult world."

"It is within my righ—"

"Come on," James cut in, "It can't be that bad." He grinned crookedly. The air he had around him was so much different than her own — he radiated so much arrogance that she couldn't believe that that being could've been her father had he been left alive.

Perhaps Voldemort's doing had been a blessing in disguise — not that she'd say it out loud.

He got a hushed warning from Remus, which she appreciated — it was good to know that she could still depend on the werewolf even on a different dimension, albeit to a certain extent.

"I believe that it is best that we know about each other, my child, if we are going to work together." Dumbledore added, which led to more people voicing their unwanted opinions.

Letting out an audible sigh, Harri sent a dirty look at the crowd. She clenched her jaw in effort to keep the conversation civil, "If you so insist," She said drily.

Harri turned her gaze to the Potter duo, "My parents were killed by Voldemort when I was one," Then turned to Sirius, "Then my godfather got framed, resulting in him spending thirteen years in Azkaban," She then turned back to Dumbledore, "And as there were no available guardian, I was placed with the Dursleys, who are magic-hating muggles, where I was neglected, before they sold little four-year-old me to the muggle black market, where I was bought by multiple rich pigs who exploited me."

"Years later, I was able to tap into my blocked, premature core and escaped to the outside world. From then on, I continued to live in the streets until I was eleven." A humorless smile grace her lips as she recollected her tragic tale and waved her hand dismissively, gleefully taking in the horrified faces of the adults around.

"So that's how I got it. The Tragic Heroine." Letting her lips fall downwards, she gazed roamed over them before falling back to Diggle, "Is your curiosity sated yet?" She drawled.

The man flinched and visibly swallowed, but still held her gaze in effort to keep some of his remaining pride. Disgusting. At least, the others had the decency to look ashamed.

She rolled her eyes and sighed yet again, "Perhaps I should add this into the list," She remarked suddenly, "After the whole 'I killed Voldemort' spiel during the end of my third year, I thought I was finally able to live freely without having to hold any other wizarding world's hand with anything." She then flattened her ears in distaste, "And here I am, whisked away from my family and friends by selfish adults, who couldn't even take care of their own problems, to do the same fucking shit."

"Language!" The Weasley Matriarch gasped, scandalized.

Raising a brow at the ginger, she gave her a strained smile. "After all I've been through, I believe that there should be at least some exceptions. Who are you to order me around anyway?" Though she said it in a light tone, it fell a bit flat.

In the midst of an uncomfortable silence, someone cleared their throat. They all turned to see Dumbledore clapping his hand, "Shall we get back on track?" He asked politely, keeping his gaze on Harri as his question was primarily directed at her.

Harri realized that the bitterness of reminiscing her past was starting to crack her carefully crafted mask, letting her true feelings flow out.

She took a deep breath and counted to three before forcing on a sheepish smile, "My apologies, I'm still figuring out how to function as a normal member of society." She said drily, making it as though she was telling a joke.

She ignored the tears that welled up in her parallel-parents' eyes, she ignored the horrified expression that appeared on Lily, Remus and Severus' faces — they would certainly know how dangerous the muggle black market is, she ignored the sympathetic expressions that rest had on, she ignored all of those things because she knows that she is now back to being alone.

There was no point in mourning now. It would only waste precious time. And if there's no longer any of her trusted friends to haul her back whenever she took a step too far, well she would have to rely on herself again. As usual.

Harri sighed softly when she saw that no one had the courage to speak up. Honestly, she wasn't ashamed of her past as the very experience let her learn how to survive and let her think clearly in any difficult situation.

And as far as she knew, the very past had definitely helped her be free of both Voldemort and Dumbledore's schemes.

"Alright then, let's get a move on." Harri leaned on the table with a calculating look upon her face. "Tell me everything that's been going on and don't spare any details."

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Lily: "Oh, he's just terrifying, Riri! Isn't he, Remy?!"
Remus: *Clearing his throat* "O-oh, um, yeah! Just— just awful."
Sirius: *Nodding along*
Arthur: "Just the worst."
Harri: *Sighing* "Yes, that's why I need you to tell-"

Moody: "You have no idea what that snake has been doing! Not even close, I tell you!!"
Molly: *Nodding frantically* "Who knows that that evil man would've done if Albus wasn't here!"
James: "Horrid things, I expect. He's a horrible man."
Diggle: *Shudders* "Don't you mean a monster? He is no man."

Dumbledore: *Eyes twinkling mirthfully* "Hohoho."

Harri: *Giving up and just smiles*

J Out!