The Godmother

After blood, sweat, and tears, I present - the first chapter of....'The Godmother'.

The idea of Harry's godmother has always intrigued me, and this is my first fanfiction as a conglomeration of my own musings of what she would have been like.

Now, for an offer you can't refuse - please read and I promise you, you will be, at the least, entertained throughout. :)

The Godmother

Chapter 1: The Ice-Cream-Skirt Incident

May, 1999

It was nearly a year since the War had ended. Harry was sitting in the grassy area behind the Burrow when a small, sealed letter fell gracefully into his lap.

He usually chucked aside pieces of mail unless he knew the sender, working through piles of fan mail every month or so. This letter, for whatever reason, caught his interest. He opened the seal and read. He read slowly at first, uninterested in the subject matter. However, as his mind began to process, he began to read quicker and quicker, his eyes darting from one line to the next.

Words, names, places - they all flew past him as he rapidly re-read the letter a second and third time. Instead of soaking in the information, he was narrowing on one phrase that kept ringing in his head. No matter how much he concentrated on the rest of letter, his eyes gravitated towards that one phrase:

your godmother

* * *

December, 1969

Saraswati Bhamra had trouble imagining a more excruciating situation for a 9 year-old to be in than the evening she faced. Forced by her mother to wear her least favorite dress for her parents' dinner party, Saraswati was both sweaty and uncomfortable. The dress, which had barely fit her 6 months ago when her mother had bought it, was even tighter around her waist and forearms, bordering on circumventing circulation to her appendages. It was also incredibly itchy, and she found it hard to maneuver. On top of all of that, it was blue. Saraswati detested the color blue in all instances, but especially on her articles of clothing. Despite all this, she had complied and worn the dress and come down the stairs with a smile on her face.

Of course, the part of the dinner party she looked forward to was the food. She had snuck a peak into the kitchen in the morning and had nearly salivated at the aromas and sights she encountered. After being shooed away by her nani, or her grandmother, who was helping the cooking staff, Saraswati had lain in bed, thinking of the meal she was to devour and the small price she would pay in indulging her parents to do so.

Saraswati hardly ate in their grand dining room, but for her parents' dinner parties, it merited the occasion. Glass chandeliers glimmers over a long extending table, with place settings meticulously laid. Saraswati was seated across from her mother and next to her younger sister, Rani, who was 7 years-old. She reached out to pick up her fork, prematurely, to hold something in her hand, but retracted her arm upon a stern glance from her mother. All she could do was sit idly and listen to her mother gossip with her good friends, Mrs. Patil and Mrs. Longbottom.

"So, just two more years for little Sara before Hogwarts, right?" Mrs. Longbottom asked Saraswati's mom, giving a slight and less than genuine smile in her direction. "Frank just loves it. Only his second year and already he doesn't want to come home for Christmas holidays. I have to pull teeth as it is with Algie."

"How is Frank adjusting without Algie in the same House and such?" Mrs. Patil inquired. Saraswati sighed heavily to cover up her stomach's loud growl. She looked hopefully to the door connecting the grand dining room to the kitchen, hoping to hone her witchcraft skill to make it magically open. She was unsuccessful.

"Oh, you know Frank! He was always quite loud and boisterous, never too afraid to assert his position. Sometimes he caused a ruckus in the neighborhood and such, but always maintained his friends. It was no surprise that he ended up in Gryffindor, though I would have hoped, of course, that he could have followed our line into Hufflepuff. He's quite brave, you know, always willing to stick up for others. But Algie still looks after him and whatnot, and Frank has settled in fine in Gryffindor." Mrs. Longbottom, tired but proud after her long-winded praise of her younger son, took a sip of her mead wine.

"I can't imagine Raj in another house but Ravenclaw. Everyone one in our family since we came to England has been placed in that house. I suppose we will see next year, but I have little doubts," Mrs. Patil interjected.

"I, as well, cannot see Saraswati in any other house, considering myself and Vikram both came from Ravenclaw. Perhaps not Slytherin, as she is not so quick-witted or cunning, simply book smart. I reckon Hufflepuff might be a suitable House - you see, she is always looking to others for guidance and advice. She would work well within a team..." Saraswati's mom continued to chatter to her friends as Saraswati sank lower into her seat. It was not unusual for her mother to take small jabs at Saraswati while she was in earshot. Saraswati had convinced herself that her mother considered it character building, as subtle hints to her first daughter's many imperfections. "...Definitely not Gryffindor, though. She gets scared at even the thought of a spider in her bathroom; she has to call Rani in to make sure it's gone. Bravery is not her suite."

"Well, less than 2 years, Jaya, until Sara has to deal with the spiders at Hogwarts instead of here," Mrs. Patil laughed grimly.

"And a busy 2 years it will be! We were hoping that Saraswati would lose her baby fat and lighten up by now, but it just seems to be accumulating. Just look at her compared to Rani - Rani is so thin and her skin is so fine. But it seems we'll require some outside effort. Vikram and I have been raiding the shelves at Mungo's, trying to find some slimming spell or potion. Can you believe that I bought that dress for Saraswati 6 months ago and it was loose-fitting? Now, she can barely squeeze into it. Rani, on the other hand, got that beautiful red dress from my mother when she came from India just..."

Saraswati lost interest in the conversation. She knew the direction in which it was heading. She realized it was almost inevitable to avoid the comparison when they sat next to one another. She, however, couldn't stand to listen to her mother rehash her "baby-fat" problem and how Rani, her younger sister, was not only more beautiful and 'ideal', but more witty and brave. Rani would be a Ravenclaw, no doubt in her mother's or her father's mind. Saraswati really wanted to itch, but her arms were so tight that she could barely lift a finger to scratch.

Luckily the food arrived. Her mother, despite their large household, detested house elves, and had Sara's grandmother aid in bringing out the food. Then, Sara began to say the various dishes she wanted, and they would pick themselves up and zoom over to her plate and provide a small portion before flying off to the next guest who wanted the dish. As she tried to drown out her mother's words, she rattled off the first 10 dishes she saw, encouraged hefty portions, and shoveled the food into her mouth without a pause or a second thought.

* * *

September, 1971

Sara was convinced she was the only person in the history of Hogwarts to travel to Platform 9 ¾ on her 11^th birthday. Her mother had written to Dumbledore in May, just to verify that Sara qualified to enroll as a first year if her birthday fell on September 1^st. Sara told herself it was because her mother wanted her to start her education early, but she couldn't ignore the sigh of relief her mother breathed when she read the letter back from Dumbledore. She would have more time to handle both Rani and her younger brother, Prakash, with Sara out of her hands, simply put.

"Stop messing with your skirt and put both your hands on the trolley!" Her mother said, exhausted. She was holding Rani's hand on one side and carrying Prakash on the other. She had taken leave from St. Mungo's and had asked nani to watch Rani and Prakash for one day in August. That day, she took Saraswati and the two of them shopped for new clothes, books, robes, a wand, potions supplies and an owl as early birthday presents. Saraswati had enjoyed the day alone with her mother so much that she didn't want to tell her mother that the skirt she had wanted, in the largest size they had at the store, still cut into her skin a bit. She figured she'd be able to find out a spell sooner or later at Hogwarts to expand the waistline and she could live with it until then.

She took a deep breath, looked back at her mother and father, who were smiling through their exhaustion, and then ran into the barrier between Platform 9 and Platform 10. It was an odd sensation, one she had never felt before and one she didn't particularly enjoy. Her mother had ushered them rather early to make sure all her stuff got onto the train safely. Platform 9 ¾ was just beginning to fill.

Her mother spotted her friends, Mrs. Longbottom and Mrs. Patil, milling around with their sons talking absent-mindedly to one another . Her father took the trolley from Sara's hands and guided her younger siblings towards the train to load the luggage and to marvel in the majesty of the Hogwarts Express. Saraswati, also entranced by the Express, began walking towards the train without looking where she was going.

SQUELCH!

On the right side of her brand new skirt was now a large imprint of a gooey mess of Connie's Color Changing Ice Cream that was beginning to melt down to the hem. Saraswati looked up to find a handsome boy with dark hair that fell easily into place and dark eyes holding a now truncated ice cream cone that changed from neon green to sunset yellow to bright red. He hardly looked apologetic. In fact, he looked a bit angry at Saraswati, presumably for partially-destroying his ice-cream cone.

"You should look where you're holding that! This was a brand new skirt!" Sara screeched, holding out the end of her skirt to assess the damage, unsure of what to do.

"It looks a little tight anyways to be anew skirt. Maybe you can get one that fits," the boy said, shrugging and licking his ice cream cone.

"What should I do? My mother just bought me this skirt. I don't want it ruined already!" Sara said, mostly to herself. She looked up at the boy again. "Sorry I ruined your ice cream."

"I wouldn't have given you some anyways," the boy said coolly, looking up and down Sara's overloaded frame. Sara bit her lip slightly from the comment but vowed not to take it personally. She had just met the boy, after all, and had also ruined his ice cream cone and what could have potentially been a great first day at Hogwarts. Besides, to echo her mother's words, if he is to judge her, he is the one who loses out. "I may have a way to help you though."

"Really?" That last sting of ill-will towards this boy floated away. He pulled out his wand from his back pocket. "You can't do that! The Trace! I won't let you be expelled before you even get to Hogwarts!"

"Relax! The Trace can only detect magic in the area of wizards. There are so many wizards and witches of age on this Platform that Ministry will be none the wiser." The boy was now smiling. He wasn't concentrated on the fold of skin piling over her skirt or her chubby cheeks. He looked her straight in the eyes and smiled. It was genuine, as far as Sara could tell.

"Alright," Sara said. She wondered whether the warnings her mother had said about the Trace when she was younger were true or whether she should accept this stranger's conception of it to be true. Either way, she knew this was probably the best option to make sure her mother wouldn't see a ruined clothing garment. "Do you know the spell?" She was a bit incredulous.

"I know the spell, don't worry." He pointed the wand at the area with the now Technicolor stain. "O...Oh...Obli....Obliterate!"

Instead of simply removing the stain, he blasted a small hole where it used to be in the skirt's outer hem. The edges even singed. Sara was ready to explode at him, but she had let him do it to her. He had convinced her and she had fell for it. She was to blame.

"I'm really sorry....I should have looked up the spell, or at least practiced!" The boy looked more upset with himself than the mistake he had made.

"It's okay. I guess I'll just face my parents and say I wasn't looking where I was going," Sara submissively concluded.

"And how are you going to explain the singed hole in your skirt? Ice cream a flambé? Trust me, it's better to just get on the train and wave goodbye than face that situation." The boy took her hadn suddenly and dragged her towards the train, despite her pleas to at least give her family a good-bye hug, no matter the consequences. "Trust me, it's better if you just follow me."

Once on the train, she spotted her parents in the sea of faces and wave enthusiastically. They waved back, her father frowning slightly, Sara was sure, that she hadn't come to say good-bye in person. The clock struck 11 and the steam began to blow fiercely as the train rolled into motion. Sara blew a final kiss to Prakash and then faced the strange, handsome boy who was still by her side.

"You didn't want to say good-bye to your mum and dad?" She asked.

"I said my good-byes before I bought the Connie's. Don't worry, they won't be missing me much. They still have my brother at home," the boy said, shrugging. Saraswati wanted to thank him, but felt the situation didn't really merit any congratulations or gratitude on either side. She thus turned on her heel and began to walk away.

"I'm Sirius, by the way. Sirius Black. Make sure to keep your head up this time, and if someone is walking directly towards you with a fresh ice cream cone, make plans to divert your path," he called after her. She turned around and walked back to shake his hand. She strained to remember what her mother had once said about the Black family, as the name sounded familiar, but she couldn't grasp it.

"I'm Saraswati Bhamra, but my friends call me Sara usually. It's easier. They trip over the pronunciation," Sara said, shaking his hand firmly. He let out an unexpected, but genuine, laugh. "What are you laughing at?"

"Oh, nothing."

If Sara had only known then why he had laughed so genuinely at her introduction and what that meant for their future. If Sara had only known then that their chance meeting and its circumstances would have disastrous consequences. Perhaps if she had known then what she knew when she wrote that letter to Harry on that sunny May morning almost 30 years later, she would have ended the conversation on a sour note, leaving them bitter rivals or, at the least, less-than-cordial acquaintances.

As it were, she pocketed that smile and that encounter and turned to walk down the train's corridor. For many years after the fact, she would count meeting Sirius Black on her first day of Hogwarts as her first real birthday gift on her 11^th birthday.

----

Alright - next chapters get into meeting more characters we already know, I promise.

Warning: Sara WON'T be a Mary-Sue. She's quite flawed and damaged actually. And I hate when people introduce new characters that are just perfect in every way.I hope the way I weave her into the set backdrop will be sufficient. Hoep you enjoyed!

Please review! Constructive criticism is encouraged and welcomed. :)