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The First Year

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Elizabeth Lily Potter was the second-born child of Lily Grace Potter and James Fleamont Potter, and she was only two minutes younger than her twin, Harry James Potter. She was a small girl, with unnaturally ginger hair for her tan skin, and she didn’t look much like her brother. She had green eyes, like he did, but hers were darker and could pass as hazel in certain lights. Her eye shape was more like her fathers than her mothers, and although it didn’t look much like it now, her nose would soon take the shape of a combination of both parents, whilst Harry’s nose was purely his mothers. Her face was chiseled in a way that could make her pass as a Pureblood, almost like her Grandmother’s cheeks were, although she would never meet her. Harry’s was softer, rounder, like their father.  

 

Elizabeth was sleeping in their nursery when her mother came rushing in. Her brother was placed next to her before her mother began shoving things in front of the door. Elizabeth’s lower lip stuck out, preparing to cry because she was startled by the noise and didn’t understand what was going on. “Hey, baby, it’s okay: everything is going to be fine,” her mum whispered, placing her body in front of the cot as the door burst open in a scattering of splintered wood.

 

Harry began crying next to her, but she was startled into silence by the presence of a new man. His face was slightly disfigured: he had slits for nostrils, almost like a creature. His eyes were two different colours: the left one was a dark blue, but the right was an unnatural shade of red. His skin was once a pale brown, that much anyone could see, but it had a greenish hue to it. Elizabeth watched him as he strolled into the room, her mother whispering prayers under her breath. “Move, girl,” he said, pointing his wand at Lily.

 

“No! You cannot harm my children.”

 

“I said move .”

 

“No, no. You’re not—you can’t! They’re just babies.”

 

The wand never shook, despite the raised voice. “This is your last warning, Mudblood . If you don’t move, you will die alongside the boy.”

 

She saw her mother cross her arms. “Never.”

 

“Avada Kedavra!” A bright green light shot out of the wand and hit their mother. She slumped to the floor, as if a puppet had cut her strings. Harry’s screams got louder.

 

The man moved the body with his foot, a disgusted expression on his face. He turned his greedy, mismatched eyes to Harry’s face. “Now it’s time for you to die.”

 

Elizabeth didn’t understand what the man was saying, but she grabbed onto Harry’s hand, wondering what was happening. “Avada Kedavra!”

 

The green light hit Harry’s forehead, before bouncing back and striking the man, whose face had turned to an expression of shock before it slumped down. A form burst out of the body and cracked into two, one part rushing out of the window and the other striking Harry. Her brother screamed before falling onto her, snoring slightly. Elizabeth tried screaming to wake him up, but it didn’t work and she exhausted herself after a few minutes, falling into sleep.

 




She woke up in an office, held in the arms of an old man. She started crying and thrashing about, and the man tried to calm her down by rocking her back and forth, making shushing noises. He managed to quieten her down by giving her a bag of miniature Ice Mice, and began talking to another person that Elizabeth hadn’t noticed before. “Where is she going to go, Albus?” a female voice asked.

 

“I am unsure. Petunia will be unable to take on more than one child, and I believe that it would be best if Harry stayed there.”

 

“I don’t think it would be wise to split the twins up, Albus. They will need each other in the future.”

 

“I know, Minerva, but Petunia already has a son, she will not be able to manage three children.”

 

“Why does Harry need to go to there? Couldn’t you place them together in a nice foster home?”

 

Albus sighed. “I could, Minerva, but there is this thing called a Blood Ward, which cannot be broken by any type of magic. Harry would be targeted for just being the Boy-Who-Lived.”

 

“What about Elizabeth? Does she not deserve any protection?” Minerva’s voice was unmistakably angry, and Elizabeth whimpered a bit at the sound, causing the old man to rock her again.

 

“I was going to offer her another type of protection: keeping her name out of the papers, and allowing her to be raised here.”

 

“Here?” Minerva’s voice was loud again, and Elizabeth threw the mostly-full bag of Ice Mice onto the floor in protest, causing the Albus to place her onto a desk to pick up the mess she made. “How can she be raised here , Albus?” Her voice was gentler this time, and Elizabeth giggled to herself as she began to play with a quill she found on the desk.

 

“I can sit with her during lessons. I’m sure Pomona, Filius and Severus would help out in the evenings. You could take turns looking after her.”

 

Elizabeth stuck the end of the quill in her mouth, giggling as it tickled the inside of her mouth. Albus took the quill from her, and as she opened her mouth to let out a frustrated shriek she was handed a bottle that rattled. Distracted, she shook the bottle, and yelled in delight when it made a rattling noise. “I don’t see how Severus will agree to looking after her, but I will do my best.” Minerva sighed in defeat. “Okay. Where’s Harry now?”

 

“Hagrid’s looking after him. He’ll be going to Petunia’s tomorrow.” Albus sighed as well. “Goodnight, Minerva. I will look after Elizabeth tonight.”

 

As if on cue, Elizabeth threw the bottle on the floor. “Hungry!” she declared angrily, holding her hands out to the old man. “Feed!”

 

Albus shook his head, picking Elizabeth back up again. “Come on then, we’ll go on a trip to the kitchens. You can meet some elves.”

 

Elizabeth clapped her chubby hands together. “Elves!” she agreed, before wrapping her arms around Albus’ arm when she almost fell backwards.

 

“Yes, elves.” Albus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. This would all end up okay, in the end.