The Girl Who Lived: an original Harry Potter fanfic: prologue

Instructions

°P°r°o°l°o°g°u°e° {October 31, 1981} It was Halloween night where children of all ages were trick-or-treating on this holiday. James and Lily Potter were in their living room, next to a wooden door. James was entertaining his son, Harry James, Lily holding the girls named Nicole Lily and Annalyn Marlene in her arms. James was entertaining Harry with his wand and making smoke-looking circle’s come out of the tip of it, making the child giggle. “Oh, aren’t they //beautiful//?” said Lily to James while staring fondly at her kids. “Mhm,” said James, not really listening, turning most of his attention to making Harry laugh. “You know,” Lily started again, “Cora and Roxy could come over sometime, maybe….” “Mhm,” he said again. Suddenly there was an extremely loud, hard knock on the door and the parents’ smiles faded into looks of alertness and fright. “Lily! Take the kids and go! I’ll hold him off!” yelled James to his wife. “James, no, you—” “I SAID TAKE THEM!” he roared, gesturing to the stairs which led up the stairs and Lily picked Harry up and scrambled upstairs as the door burst open just as she was out of possible sight from the doorway. Lily was scurrying to the floor above, but the man who had just entered, didn’t hear anything as yells and mirthless, evil laughter sounded, even though the scene had no humor whatsoever and there was a flash of bright green light that lit up the entire house and fled through the windows. Laughing, the cloaked man came up the stairs as Lily was putting Harry, Annalyn, and Nicole in Harry’s cradle. Ten seconds later, after the mother whispered words to her children, the man entered the room from the door. Lily tried to close it, but he opened it again, revealing the most terrible face ever seen. As he came into the light of the room, you could see a snakelike face with slits as nostrils and evilly red eyes. The babies, not necessarily understanding English, heard anguished yells of protection from their mother, more evil laughing from the man and the second flash of bright light. As the lifeless Lily Potter fell to the floor, the man advanced on the children. “Hmph,” he said with the nastiest smirk on his face that has ever reached the presence of Earth. “So. Potters. Children you have reached your end,” the man said, pointing his wand only a few inches from the infants. “Oh, well, I suppose I must do this now, Potters. AVADA KEDAVRA!” A jet of green light erupted from the wand, but not like it did the other two times. The light shot out the tip of the wand, but, as if there was an invisible force, ricocheted of the clear barrier and hit the man in the face and he disappeared. There was an eerie silence. {one hour later} Another man can in through the broken door and the ruins of the— if you could call it this anymore— demolished house. {three hours later} There was now a woman and a very eld man with silver hair cascading down his scalp and chin. “We’re only going to take one of them in!” shrieked the woman. “We’ve already said it! Only one!” Her sister had been the infants’ mother, whom she had hated. “Very well, then,” the man said, picking up the boy. “Take Harry, Petunia, I believe there is another person who would be willing to take them in. And I do not mean Adrianne.” “You know, why can’t //she// get the scum, hm? That Potter freak, she’s one of—” the woman shuddered, “—//their type//.” “We will have our reasons, Petunia,” said the man calmly. He had been right indeed about “another person” being willing to take the girls in. {November 2, 1981} “Ah, Severus, I am glad to see you,” he said, smiling at a man with greasy black hair, “but I would not bet on Roxenne and Cordelia—” He stopped as two adult women Apparated onto a few feet away from the men. “Excuse me? Did I hear my name?” the first said, with long, straight, dark brown-black hair. “Burns, this is //not// your business,” the black-haired man said accusingly. “Mrs. Black, Mrs. Francess, how pleasant it is to see you,” the elder man said to the women, with a small smile, though the women kept their serious, maybe ever a tad angry, expressions. “Professor, I would like to know why you’re giving //our// goddaughters to //him//,” the second said, giving the greasy man the stink eye. She had short, shoulder-length wavy yellow-blonde hair. “Mrs. Francess, I know, you two would like to have them, but Severus and I have made arran—” “ARRANGEMENTS? FOR WHAT? WHAT “ARRANGEMENT? SORRY, DUMBLEDORE, BUT WE’RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF THEM IF ANYTHING HAPPENED TO JAMES OR LILY, THAT’S WHAT WE MUST DO!” the dark-haired woman screamed at the elderly man. “Roxenne, please, this is what I told Petunia—” “CORA, USE YOUR LEGILI—” “Jeez, ’kay Rox, relax— Professor, you didn’t tell Petunia //who// you’re going to give Nicole and Annalyn to, you’d be more sensible to give them to Anne, but him? I don’t think so,” the blonde said, crossing her arms.