Just Amber, Just Harry

Prologue

"Oi, 'Arry, look at this," said Ron Weasley.

"Ronald Weasley! No speaking with your mouth full," reprimanded his mother.

Harry Potter took the newspaper Ron shoved in his face. It was late August, and the two friends were eating breakfast in the kitchen of the Burrow, as the Weasley's house was fondly nicknamed. Harry was had been invited to stay with them, as he didn't usually enjoy going back to the Dursleys.

He took a bite of his toast and glanced at the headline of the morning's Daily Prophet. American orphan princess of witches and wizards going to Hogwarts, it blared. He quickly skimmed the article. The name the princess went by in the Muggle world was Amber Elddir, though in the magical world most referred to her as Princess Amber. She was fifteen, the same age as Ron and Harry. The article went on for a bit about how her parents--the king and queen of the magical world--had been killed, though it didn't say how. She had live in an orphanage in the States since she was six, but now it seemed that some very distant relatives in England had been found. It ended by telling the readers that she would be moving to England and attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this fall.

"I didn't know we had a royal family," said Harry, chewing thoughtfully.

"They're really just a formality," replied Fred, Ron's older brother. The twins had just gotten up.

"Yeah, they don't do much of anything, now since we have democracy. They used to rule the whole bloody wizarding world, though," continued Fred's twin, George. "That princess is pretty pretty though, have you see her picture? And she's going to be in your year," he added, winking.

"Stuff it George!" Ron shot back. Harry laughed good-naturedly.

Amber Elddir, Harry thought to himself. Guess I'll see you at Hogwarts.

Chapter 1: The Newcomer

"Come, hurry boys! We don't have all day," Mrs. Weasley called. It was September 1^st, and the children were leaving for their first day of school.

"And girls," Ginny pointed out huffily, lugging her trunk to the car that the Ministry had loaned Mr. Weasley. Ginny was the youngest of the Weasleys, and the only girl.

"And girls, of course." Mrs. Weasley tweaked her nose.

"Mum, stop it," the girl grumbled, climbing into the car.

Next came Fred and George. "Hey Mum, you might want to go help Harry and

Ron," said George, snickering.

"They're having a bit of trouble with the Pig," added Fred, referring to Ron's little owl. The twins weren't even bothering to conceal their laughter.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, but was obliged to rush back inside. She passed her husband in the hallway, carrying the two trunks, as the owners were quite tied up at the moment. Mr. Weasley pointed towards the kitchen, trying to smother his amusement while around his irritable wife.

"Mum!" Ron cried, relieved to have some backup. "I can't catch the stupid thing!" He was talking about the ball of fluff whizzing around over their heads, which was at times known as Pig. Harry was standing on a chair trying to grab it, but all he succeeded in doing was falling over. Mrs. Weasley whipped out her wand.

"Accio owl," she said determinedly. The reluctant bird shot towards her. She grabbed him and set him in his cage not so gently. "Alright then, let's go! Hurry, hurry! We don't want to miss the train now!" The boys grabbed their owl cages, one holding Ron's crazed Pigwidgeon, and the other holding Harry's calmer Hedwig, and sprinted towards the car.

As they sped away in the Ministry car, Percy, the third oldest Weasley child and a graduate of Hogwarts waved from his window. He hadn't had time to say a proper good-bye, as he was working on some very "important" business for the Ministry of Magic.

The ride to King's Cross went quickly; the time was filled up with chattering and teasing and laughter. They had a slight fiasco when the twins' smuggled firecrackers blew their pockets off, but Mrs. Weasley, experienced in such situations, handled it quite well, and before they knew it, they had arrived at the train station.

"Come along now, everyone out," Mrs. Weasley cried, shooing them in the direction of Platform 9¾. "Where are your dress robes, Ron, dear? Ginny, wait for us! We don't want you to get lost now! Fred, George, stop playing with the cart and move!" Mrs. Weasley was fairly frantic, despite Mr. Weasley's attempts at soothing her.

The group hurried towards the entrance to their platform, and Mrs. Weasley sent them scurrying through the barrier, and there was the scarlet steam-engine, as always. Mr. Weasley helped get the trunks onto the train, and no sooner had the owls been handed up than the train began to move.

"Bye Mum! Bye Dad," Ginny shouted tearfully, waving to her parents. She sniffled.

"C'mon, let's go find Hermione," Ron muttered to Harry. They left Ginny with Fred and George trying to comfort her by saying that she'd only have to wait a quarter of a year to see her parents again. The twins meant it as a joke, but Ginny took it quite seriously and started crying even harder.

As they walked through the various compartments looking for Hermione, they met up with old friends. The talk of the train was of the princess. No one had seen her; most figured that she was coming separately.

They met up with Hermione halfway down the train, and they went to the very end to find an empty compartment. But when Harry sat down, he sat on something. He leaped up and glanced back.

"So, did you guys hear about the princess that's coming?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Yeah, we saw it in the paper," Ron replied as Harry opened the door to the last compartment. Unfortunately, it was occupied.

Sitting on the left was Harry's archenemy Draco Malfoy. Next to him on either side slumped his goons, Crabbe and Goyle.

Sitting across from Malfoy was a very pretty girl. She had sharp blue eyes and blonde, red-streaked hair. She was wearing low-cut bellbottom jeans and red t-shirt with the American flag pasted on to a #1. The girl smiled, revealing a brilliant set of pearly white teeth.

"Hallo there, Potter," came the familiar drawl. "Might I introduce you to my friend? This is Princess Amber," he said with satisfaction. "Your Highness, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley." Harry stared at Malfoy suspiciously. He was never this polite to them.

"I'm just Amber. Amber Eddirel," she said, offering her hand to all of them.

Hermione sniffed disdainfully when her turn came. "A pleasure," she said coldly. Hermione was a firm believer in democracy; she didn't think highly of princesses. Amber raised an eyebrow, but felt it would be a waste of time to mention it.

So instead, she continued. "Would you like to sit here?" she asked pleasantly, motioning to the vacant seats.

"Er...I guess..." Harry said, sending a startled look towards Malfoy, who was trying to hide his fury behind a stiff smile.

The guests took their seats and all was quiet for a moment.

"So...Harry...do you really have that scar?" Amber asked, trying to keep a conversation going. Draco rolled his eyes, irritated that Amber's attention had been drawn away from him.

"Yeah, I do." Harry pushed back his bangs, revealing the famed scar that Lord Voldemort had given him as a baby. He hated it when people always thought of him as "The Boy Who Lived" but she was a princess; how could he refuse?

"Would you mind..." Amber trailed off in mid-sentence, reaching up to touch his forehead.

"Er...no..." said Harry, slightly puzzled. Ron motioned to Hermione when the princess wasn't looking.

What is she doing? He mouthed.

I have no idea, she mouthed in reply.

Warmth spread throughout Harry's body when Amber touched him. He felt as if he were drowning in lilies. The others saw he and Amber glow a bright white, and each looked as if they had fallen into a trance.

"Get Harry and run, I'll hold him off," shouted a deep male voice.

"No! No, I won't leave you!" This time it was a woman's voice.

"Go!" was the forceful reply. The woman was crying, but by the footsteps coming towards Harry he guessed that

Harry felt himself being picked up and carried, down through several rooms, down a hallway, and they began to head down stairs.

"It'll be all right, darling, we'll be just fine," the woman whispered to him. Harry opened his eyes and stared up at a beautiful green-eyed, auburn haired woman. His mother. Lily Potter. Lily Potter was holding him.

Suddenly, he heard a shout and a thump come from upstairs. Harry's mother wept uncontrollably, and had to lean against the railing. . Something came clomping down the stairs behind them. Harry's mother tried to gather her wits and run down the stairs. The thing that made the clomping grabbed her and spun her, still clutching Harry. It--he--she? Shoved them down the rest of the way, into a room. Harry realized the "thing" was a person: Voldemort, who else? Voldemort flung Lily onto a couch, holding on to Harry for dear life.

"Please, please! Have mercy on Harry! Don't take him! Kill me, but don't hurt him," she was begging. "Not Harry!" she screamed as the green light came shooting towards her. She went limp.

Now Harry was staring right at Voldemort. He raised his wand--"Avada Kedavra!"--another beam of green light came shooting at Harry, but this time it stopped short, as if it had hit something, and rebounded against Voldemort.

"Noooooooo!" Voldemort screamed. And he was gone. Harry thought he could see a faint glow, as if there was a ghost there...

Amber yanked them out of the memory, and Harry found himself back on the train, on his way to Hogwarts. Amber was gasping and tears were rolling down her face. Glancing up, she met Harry's stricken gaze.

"I brought you too, didn't I," she sniffled apologetically. Harry nodded slowly. The others were staring at them like they were raving lunatics. "Sorry. I only wanted to look...but sometimes it does that."

"What in the bloody hell was that?" cried Malfoy, breaking in.

"And what was all the glowing stuff? You didn't even use a wand," Hermione said nervously.

Amber sighed, and wiped away her tears. She shot a sidelong glance at Harry before beginning--he was staring at the ground and his face was white as marble.

"To answer Hermione's question: you all know that I'm a princess." Everyone nodded in agreement, though Hermione's sneeze sounded an awful lot like "braggart." "Well, for some reason or other, the wizards and witches in my family have an easier time channeling their powers. Most people need wands, but I--well--don't.

"Now. For Draco'." Amber took a deep breath. "Harry and I were in one of his memories. I have a kind of weird ability to look in someone's mind. I can't see thoughts or anything though," she added quickly. "Just memories."

"Which one?" Ron asked slowly, as if he didn't really want to hear the answer.

"The one where Voldemort tried to kill him," Amber answered quietly. "I didn't mean to bring Harry into the memory too. That was an accident. I just--needed to see something." Amber stared out the window at the land flying by. She looked as if she was about to start crying again, but she checked herself when Hermione asked another question.

"Well, that can't be possible," Hermione said, obviously miffed that the princess could do something with magic that she couldn't. "Harry doesn't remember what happened--if he did, it would haunt his dreams every night!"

"That's just it," replied Amber calmly. "He doesn't remember it. But the memory is there. It never goes away. I guess you could say--it's filed away, to put it simply."

"I have to admit, although you pretty much scared me out of my wits, that was pretty cool," Draco said admiringly. Hermione rolled her eyes, disgusted by this display of schmoozing.

"Oh please, Malfoy, could you be any more obvious about sucking up to her? I mean, isn't Pansy Parkinson rich enough for you?" Hermione, of course.

"Jealous that she likes me?" was the sneering reply.

"As if there's anything to be jealous of!"

The insults flew back and forth, with Ron joining in now and then to give Hermione a hand. Crabbe and Goyle weren't even able to follow the argument, much less think of a comeback. Amber ignored them. She was used to people acting like this around her. It wasn't that she was stuck-up or anything, but the truth of the matter was, she was a princess.

She looked over in Harry's direction. He hadn't made a sound since before Amber had showed him the memory. The others didn't understand how upsetting that memory had been for both of them--of course, they couldn't. They hadn't seen it.

"Are you ok?" she asked softly, so that no one else could hear. Harry said nothing. He stared straight ahead. "Stupid question really. I don't think anyone would be ok after seeing...you know."

"You had no right to do that," Harry said suddenly. His shock had boiled into rage. "Why did you do that?" he cried, his voice shrill.

The others started, looking up sharply.

Amber bit her lip and looked away from his accusing gaze. "You don't understand, Harry...I can't explain right now...I had to see it..." she trailed off. Harry saw tears were glistening in her eyes. She rushed out to the bathroom and locked herself in there for the rest of the way, Draco calling after her, trying to comfort her.

I wish I could explain it to him, Amber thought to herself. But if I did, he--and everyone else--would hate me.

As soon as she felt the train slow, she ran out to the doorway. She was the first to get off the train. It was dark and quite nippy. Shivering, Amber tucked her cloak tighter around herself. She had changed into her robes during the long period she had been in the bathroom.

Amber saw an extremely large man calling, "Firs' years over here, c'mon now, hurry up!" She wondered who he was but didn't bother to ask anyone. She'd had enough of meeting people for a night.

She went with the flow of the masses, who seemed to be heading towards a long line of horseless carriages. Glancing up, she saw the magnificent building which was normally known as Hogwarts. It suddenly hit Amber that this would be her home for three whole years. Amber only regretted that she hadn't been able to come here earlier. The school that she had been sent to in America was one for orphan witches and wizards.

Amber suddenly found herself beside Draco Malfoy again as she was about to step into one of the carriages.

"Would you mind if I kept you company for the ride up to the castle?" he asked gently. For a moment the girl wondered if he really wasn't doing this just because she was a princess, but once she glimpsed his sweet, understanding smile, all her doubts were erased.

"I would love to," she replied warmly. Draco helped her up into the coach. It began to roll forward, as if invisible horses were pulling it. Which probably was really the case.

"I know you didn't want to hurt him, princess," Draco said. Sympathy shone in his eyes. "Not a girl like you."

"Call me Amber," she answered. "I'd really like to forget about the princess part," she added with a slight smile. The carriage eased to a stop, and Draco helped her out, playing the part of a gentleman perfectly. No doubt his mother had worked hard to teach him his manners.

"Princess Amber? Ah, there you are, the Headmaster wants to speak to you for a moment," said a tall, sharp-nosed woman.

"Fat chance of you forgetting," Draco muttered. "See you in the Great Hall later then," he said, giving her a small wave as he went to find his friends. Amber followed the woman into an extremely large hall.

"I am Professor McGonagall," the woman said crisply. She kept up a brisk pace, and Amber wasn't having an easy time keeping up. "You are going to meet Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts." The young princess gazed around. All along the corridors were countless statues, and paintings, suits of armor--all of which could move around--and all sorts of other fascinating things. And the architecture of the building itself was incredible.

"Um...Professor...why exactly am I meeting him?" Amber asked as they halted before a statue. She was actually quite looking forward to meeting Professor Dumbledore--everyone in the wizarding world knew of him and his accomplishments. He was one of Amber's role models.

"Chocolate frog," McGonagall said. The statue moved, revealing a moving staircase, much like a escalator, although this one wound in spirals. The teacher stepped onto it. Amber's mouth dropped open in surprise "Come on then, don't dawdle," she said sharply, motioning for Amber to follow.

She stepped onto the staircase, and carried away. It seemed only moments before they had reached the top. Professor McGonagall knocked on the door firmly.

"Come in," said a voice. Amber perceived that it was elderly, yet there was a feeling of power radiating from this voice.

"Albus," McGonagall nodded curtly. "Princess Amber. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to the first years."

"Amber Elldir, I believe?" Amber could now see the man from which the voice came. He was wearing dashing silver robes that matched his long silver beard and hair. The headmaster was looking at Amber expectantly over his horn-rimmed glasses, and Amber noticed that even his blue eyes had a silvery tint.

"Yes, sir," she said smoothly. Many others would have been intimidated to meet Albus Dumbledore but Amber's mother, Opal, had always told her that she was a real princess, and real princesses didn't let anything--or anyone--scare them. Amber had never forgotten that advice, and no matter how much she sometimes hated being a princess, she always did her best to follow it. "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked, smiling politely.

"Indeed, there was," the Headmaster replied, eyes twinkling under his glasses. "It seems your Aunt Dana wants you to have a proper introduction."

Amber's heart plummeted. "Oh no..." she breathed. "What does she want me to do this time?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, what she wanted was practically a wedding ceremony. But, luckily for you, I won't make you go through with that. She did want you to wear this outfit though," he added, at the same time flicking his wand at something behind Amber. A closet door creaked open. The dress hung up inside was absolutely gorgeous, with shoes to match. "And you can't forget this," the old man said, opening a drawer. He lifted out a sparkling tiara. "I remember that first evening she came here...she looked so beautiful in this." He sighed. "Your mother was a wonderful person Amber. I'm sure you are too, but that, I just can't know yet."

Amber had to admit, she liked the old man's frank manner. "Well, the dress is pretty and all, but if I'm not going to have the introduction and all...what do I need it for?"

"The Sorting, of course, the Sorting!" cried Dumbledore. "And speaking of which," he said, glancing at his watch. "We better hurry if we want to get down in time. They may already have begun."

Of course. Amber had known about how Hogwarts had the four houses and that the students were sorted into the different houses, but what with everything going on, it had completely slipped her mind.

"Hurry, hurry! Go change!" Dumbledore said, shooing her into a bathroom. Amber slipped the dress on and admired herself in the mirror. The dress was completely white, although it wasn't plain; it was absolutely dazzling. It was sleeveless, and hugged Amber's slender body, though at the waist it opened up into a long skirt that brushed the floor. Sequins were embroidered all over in delicate patterns and it made her look like a glittering diamond.

Well, people are certainly going to notice that I'm a princess, she thought wryly. Oh well. Let them notice me then.

Amber quickly did her hair up in a messy, stylish bun, leaving a few strands out to frame her face. She hurried out to Dumbledore.

"Well, that was quick. I was of the mind that women always took forever getting ready." His eyes twinkled.

"It would have taken me forever, but I didn't put any makeup on," Amber replied laughing.

"And your tiara, can't forget that now can we," the headmaster murmured, gently placing it on her head. He stepped back to look at her, and for a moment, it looked as the Dumbledore were tearing--but in a moment, it was gone. "So like your mother..." He sighed. "Such a pity..." He was referring to her parents death. "We'd best get going then. Follow me."

Down the stairs they went, and through all the twisting corridors and countless staircases. They passed a large pair of oak doorways. Inside, Amber could hear the talk of hundreds of people. However, Dumbledore led her on, and they entered a small chamber that seemed to be at the rear of the room where everyone else was. Quite a few young, frightened looking children were there too, but Dumbledore led them out to what Amber had realized must be the Great Hall Draco had been speaking of.

"Stay here until I call your name," Dumbledore said to her before shutting the door behind himself. Amber nodded, a bit nervous. She knew she would be ok though, she always was.

Amber took the time to look around the room. A cozy fire was burning at one end, and all along the sides were somber paintings of old men and women. A few of them were hopping from painting to painting and whispering among themselves, staring and pointing at Amber. She approached one of the kinder looking ladies.

"Excuse me, but who are all you people?" she asked. It may not have come out sounding very polite, but Amber wondered how much a painting could really care.

"We're all the past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, dear," replied the painting. "Everyone is wondering who you are."

"I'm Amber Elldir. But some people call me a princess."

"You mean you aren't one?"

"No, I am, it's just I don't always enjoy being a princess," was the reply.

"And now, I have a special person to introduce to you," Amber heard Dumbledore say loudly.

"Oh, I better go now," Amber said. "It was nice talking to you, ma'am." She hurried to the door just then heard her name called. She smoothed her dress and took a deep breath, put a smile on, and opened the door. She walked--or rather floated--out. She was up on a platform, and to her left was a long table with only adults seated there. The teachers, Amber figured. Dumbledore was standing near the middle of the platform next to a stool with a tattered old hat on it, so Amber approached him. As she was walking, she glanced out to look at the rest of the room. Below her were four long tables seating hundreds of children, all silent and all looking at her. Above the tables floated countless candles.

Amber realized that the tables must be for each one of the houses. She tried to remember what each of the houses was known for: Gryffindor, they were the brave ones. Ravenclaw was the one with all the smartest people. Hufflepuff, kind and loyal. And Slytherin, they were the ones who were cunning, clever, and determined.

"Your Highness, you may have a seat," Dumbledore said formally, lifting her tiara and replacing it with the tattered hat as she sat.

Hmmm, this one will be tricky, whispered a little voice in her mind. It was of course the Sorting Hat. Brilliant, loyal, courageous, and very determined. That strength, hmm, very interesting, yes indeed. You aren't a person that gives up very easily.

Well, come on then! Pick a house so we can get this over with, Amber said to the voice.

Alright then, have it your way. I think you will do just fine in SLYTHERIN!

This last word was shouted for the whole room to hear. Dumbledore removed the hat and put her tiara back on. Judging from the cheers that had just exploded from the children sitting at the table on the far right, it was that table that was where the Slytherins sat. Amber gracefully descended the steps from the platform and took a seat next to none other than Draco Malfoy. As soon as she sat down, the empty gold plates were magically filled to the brim with all kinds of foods. Everyone began eating ravenously.

"Hello again, princess," Draco said softly, laughing a bit.

"Nice to see you again, Draco," Amber said warmly.

"I want you to meet a few of my friends," Draco continued. "This is Pansy Parkinson, my girlfriend," he said, casting a tender look in the girl's direction.

"A pleasure," said Pansy kindly.

"And you've already met Crabbe and Goyle," he added with a careless wave of his hand at the two giants who were stuffing their faces. "Well, you'll no doubt meet the others in due time. But I wanted to be the first to say it: Welcome to Slytherin."

Amber grinned happily. Could it get any better than this? Even if she would have to go home to her nagging Aunt Dana next summer, she had a whole ten months of pure joy ahead of her. For the time at least, she could forget about the terrible ordeal of the trainride. She had a very pleasant meal, unlike the ones at the all girls' school in America that she had attended. There they had tried to practically starve the poor young ladies, saying that young girls shouldn't eat too much, and they should certainly not speak during dinner. Here, she really had a chance to enjoy herself, at least while she didn't have to ponder darker, deeper thoughts.

******

Harry was still upset over the incident on the train, but he was doing his best not to show it, and he had put it out of his mind for a short time. He had ridden up in one of the carriages with Ron and Hermione, and was now seated with one of them on each side of him in the Great Hall.

He had observed all the frightened first years get Sorted. He wasn't surprised when Dumbledore announced that he had someone special to introduce; he figured the princess would have to come and be Sorted sooner or later. What he didn't expect was how absolutely ravishing she would look when he saw her. She was a picture of perfection; her dress swayed gently in time to her quick, smooth steps, her smile fairly glowed.

But just because she's pretty and a good actress doesn't mean she's a nice person, Harry thought angrily to himself, remembering the afternoon's little disaster. But the truth was Harry was actually happy in a way that he had gotten to see what really happened. Not so much that he wanted to see his parents killed, but he still wanted every opportunity to he could get to see his parents.

Harry was quite surprised that she was Sorted into Slytherin, but in his mind, better there than with him in Gryffindor.

After many long conversations and many hearty helpings, Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to head up to the Gryffindor Tower. Hermione stayed in the common room to catch up on her reading. Harry asked Ron if he wanted to play a game of chess before they want to bed, but Ron declined. He was too tired and he went straight to bed. Luckily, he had nothing to worry about. He fell into deep, dreamless sleep as soon as he lay his head down on his pillow.

Harry, in his own bed, stared at him for a long while, wondering about what it was like to be normal like Ron. He wondered why Amber really had done what she had. He wondered if she really was as stuck-up as Hermione thought she was. And most of all, he wondered what in the world she meant when she said she "had to see" that memory. Finally, Harry drifted off to sleep, but it was a sleep that was marred with nightmares of Voldemort.

Little did Amber and Harry know, but that one event on the train would grow into a seething rivalry.