SO ITS FINALLY HERE! The GanjiaQueen has posted her first Fanfic! alert the media! tell Stoners and Readers everywhere your Savior has arrived!hmmm I thought Id get more applause! oh well, hey everyone its me your resident Hufflepuff and this is my new crossover Fic. I hope you all love it as much as I do and get into it. The cross over part wont come to later chapters so if your only here to see my Hufflepuff version of Niklaus Mikalson I say Stick it out. It will be well worth the wait! The Rise of Raven is about how Rowena gets sent back in time via a portkey her father made before he died... or did he.. with alot of luck some help from our favorite Gryffindore princess and alot of snark. you will see just how the Raven Rises.

DISCLAIMER:All rights and proceeds go to our Lord and Savior JKR for only the Holy could have written HP

A/N: Soo thank you too a very kind and great fellow writer Nettie! I actually have an edited first chapter, i will try and get the other chapter edited as i know they most likely read horribly. hopefully with this chapter fixed others will want to stay and see what happens to or herione. if you havent read any of Nettie's work please look her up at Nettiet68. Shes not my Beta so any and all who would like to become my Beta the job is still up for grabs! remember R&R!

Chapter 1 - His Damn Obsession.

"Your father and his damn obsession!" I heard my mother yell from down the hall in my father's old study.

I then heard her huff followed by a loud thump and then "Rowena!".

I placed my copy of Jane Eyre down and followed her voice until I came to my father's study, watching as she struggled to break into my father's Hogwarts' trunk. The thing had been locked and sealed since the day my father died, five years ago. No-one knew how to open it, or quite frankly where it came from. It was as if it had shown up sealed by magic my mom used to say, making us both laugh, it was because of my father's poorly concealed obsession with the Wonderful Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

My father and I had read all the books, along with seeing all the movies more than a few times. It was an obsession he had slowly, yet surely, passed on to me. That was until he died when I was 12, and I never picked up another Harry Potter book, movie, or themed product again.

"Mother, what are you doing? You know that thing won't open, you're wasting your time,." I say in a exasperated voice as I continue to watch as she keeps jabbing a rather sharp steak knife into the cracks of the seal in a vain attempt to crack it open.

She gave it one last jiggle before she slumped to the floor and said "Dammit, there is something moving around in this damn thing and I can't even open it!"

Seeing the tears appear in my mother's eyes made me soften my approach as I went to her and said "I know, Mom, but maybe its time you just moved it back to the attic? It's not opening and your only gonna drive yourself crazy. I'm sure that Dad would have wanted you to leave it alone. Whatever is inside, if there is anything, can stay in there. I for one think you should get rid of all this stuff."

My eyes roam the room, which has more HP memorabilia then one person should have. There was a Hogwarts House tea set sitting on Dad's desk, along with banner of the house of Snakes all around. My father had said he was what they would have called a Slytherin with a Gryffindor heart and the intelligence of the great Rowena Ravenclaw, h-ence why he had named me after his favorite Founder of Hogwarts.

He had first edition copies of all the books in a tall glass book case, all opened to his favorite chapter of each book. To the left of that, was a film model of the Firebolt Harry was supposed to have owned, hanging proudly, as if just waiting to actually start to move. Under it was another glass case, smaller in structure, with every main characters' wand replica on display.

I smiled slightly as I remember my father telling me that when I was 11 I'd finally be able to go and get my wand. He had made a big show of it, taking me to Florida to the Harry Potter theme park . It was the last birthday I would spend with him,.

"I can't just throw this stuff out, this was your father's thing's." I heard Mom's voice crack and instantly turned to her and grabbed her hand.

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry, but I just don't like seeing you upset and trying to find answers in all this stuff. Dad was obsessed and well… it got him killed!" I yell, allowing my frustration and anger to seep through.

I wanted to mourn my Father, I wanted to even cry as much as my mom does. However I couldn't. If my father hadn't been after some rare HP Movie artifact, he never would have been robbed and killed for it, leaving my mother and I alone without him.

My mom looked up at me, her beautiful gold brown eyes unlike my own green ones, shining with tears as she tried but failed to give me a watery smile. "You're right, Row, I should stop. It's been five years, and just because I think I'm hearing things does not give me a right to let my imagination run wild with me." She grips my hand to reassure me as she gets up and says "Have you finished your school work? I won't be going easy on the essay because of the day."

I smiled and said "Of course, Mom, and I would never expect you too."

I kiss her cheek and watch as she readjusts her clothes, and then, after a moment of silence, she speaks again. " I'll have dinner ready in a hour, and seeing as your done with your schoolwork, I suggest you get started on your applications, those admittance essays won't write themselves."

She smiles heartily as I nod in compliance and watch her move out of the room. I sigh, taking one last look around, thinking again how even now I don't have any feelings about my father being gone, even five years to the day. No tears will come; it's not that I didn't love my father, it's just that I don't seem to be able to feel sorrow over him being gone.

I remember six months after my father had died, my mom sent me to a therapist in the hope that I would tell them why I wasn't upset. Yet even to them I just couldn't open up and explain. So it was with that thought, as I started to exit my father's old study, that I heard a rattling coming from my father's trunk. It had to be the sound my mom heard that had had her going crazy trying to open it. I hadn't touched the thing since my mother had found it sitting in the attic. She had brought it to the study because it had been where my father had normally kept his memorabilia, although she had found it strange that she never even knew he had this trunk with the Hogwarts' crest on top of it.

I walked up to it, my curiosity getting the better of me. It seemed to glow the closer I got to it and I leaped back when, as I touched it, the top sprung open, giving out a

blast of dust and air. I fanned in front of my face and peered into the now open trunk.

Inside was like nothing I had ever seen. It looked as if it went down several feet into the ground and was filled with not only books on a varying array of 'magical' topics. But sitting in the center on top of everything, was an envelope with my name on it. I recognized my father's elegant handwriting. My mother was jealous of his handwriting, saying he wrote like a girl. I slowly picked it up, and turned it over to pull out the letter inside. I unfolded the aged paper and began to read.

Dearest Rowena,

My heir and loving daughter, if you are reading this, then I am already gone. Forgive me for what I have to tell you now and one day when we meet again I pray you will be able to offer that forgiveness.

You are a Witch, Rowena! I know you and your mother all thought my obsession with Harry Potter was just that an obsession. However, you are wrong.

To get you to understand what I am telling you, I must first tell you how and why I came to your world. My name is Levi Godric Patton, heir to the nobel and most ancient house of Patton. I graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the year 1932 from the proud and respected house of Salazar Slytherin. A true shock seeing as our family are direct descendents of Rowena Ravenclaw herself.

When I was 15, I acquired a gift that was meant to only be given to the females of our line, however it skipped my older sister and was given to me. I was a seer.

In 1945, my best friend, Albus Dumbledore, had just defeated what to us was the darkest wizard known to mankind, Gellert Grindelwald, a malicious and unpleasant man. , However, on the very night that Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, I had a vision. I saw the wizarding world in disarray, and only a former shell of what it used to be. I saw the world brought down by a vile snake faced man who could only be thwarted by a little boy with a lightning bolt scar on his head. Then I saw something very different, and it is that thing that brought me to your universe. It is the same thing that had me use the Imperius Curse on a young Joanne Rowling and give her the idea for the Harry Potter series.

I woke up the next morning knowing all that would happen in the next sixty odd years, and with that knowledge came the ability to stop it. However I didn't know how;, I simply knew that I needed to write the books to tell the story but not to the wizarding world or the Muggles that lived outside of it. No, I needed to tell the story to a world where Magic truly doesn't exist. That is the world your mother is from and the world you straddle.

I spent the next forty years trying to stop Voldemort from killing the Potters and every time I failed. That's when I had the last vision I was able to have before I came to your world. It showed me with your mother and you as a baby. It was then that I realized what must be done, and for that I must ask your forgiveness again. In this world, your magic does not work, just as mine does not. However, this trunk is the portkey I made to come to your world, It will take you back to my world when you're ready.

Now here is what I must ask for forgiveness, my pet. Harry Potter is not the true Savior of the wizarding world: You are. I know you must think me crazy and wish to rip this up and throw it away. However before you do, I ask that you touch my trunk and say 'Portus'. I know you know that this is the activation word for portkeys. I have taught you as much as I can in a world without magic, and I have given you the tools to accomplish this great feat. However, I also know that you are not the little girl I left behind anymore. So I tell you all of this because you do have an option.

It is not 1997, and in my world all is now in chaos. Volemort won in reality. The books I wrote were my wishes and how I had hoped to make the future go. Silly me, didn't realize It never happened because I was not the one to fix it. Because of all this you have a choice. You can choose to leave your mother and your world behind, to join mine in the past where you can help fix it, or you can remain here with your mother.

This trunk once activated will take you to the Patton Manor house in Wiltshire, England. Once there, I'm certain my mother will find you and get you prepared to begin this journey. If not, you can close the trunk and it will never open again. Rowena, the choice is yours. I miss and love you dearly, my pet, and if I know you as well as I think I do, then I shall be seeing you soon.

Love always,

Your Father.

Tears. That is what I felt first, tears, warm and salty as they made lines down my face. I had at some point taken a seat in front of the trunk, reading my father's words. I looked up and back around the room, seeing it for the first time in a new light. I had always wondered why the things in my father's study looked nothing like the themed products you could buy online. My father used to joke and say "I have an authentic maker". Now I see, none of it was fake, not the obsession nor the glee in his eye as he talked about magic as if it were real. Nor his lack of enthusiasm for the movies and the castle they chose to house Hogwarts, always saying "It looks way cooler in person". It was sayings like that that had me realizing my father was a Wizard which meant I was a Witch, and not just any Witch… I was a Pureblood. I dropped the letter and stood up about to scream and then remembered my mother down in the kitchen.

For a split second I wanted to run down to her and tell her everything I had just read, but now I knew I couldn't. My mom would sooner have me committed to a

psych ward than believe that magic truly existed. She only put up with my dad because he was rich , handsome and loveable. three qualities my mother felt every man should possess if he had wanted to be with her.

I picked up the letter and re-read it one more time, attempting to grasp just what my father wanted from me. If what he was saying was true, then my father had been (a) over a 100, (b) a Wizard, and (c) the actual writer of the Harry Potter stories. That last concept wasn't as farfetched as the others. However it was the last few lines that stuck out. Harry Potter was not the savior of the wizarding world, I was, and if I wanted to help them it was my choice.

In spite of not having picked up a HP book in over five years, the idea of actually doing magic and joining the wizarding world had me feeling like my five year old self again, just wishing to 'swish and flick'. I knew I was taking a leap of faith but thinking that should the worst come to worst, when I say the activation word, nothing will happen, I'll close the trunk and go on with my life.

So with that final thought, I grabbed the top of the trunk and whispered "Portus". As the last syllable left my mouth, I felt a strange tug at the middle of my stomach, and