A/N: Well, because someone planted the idea in my head (thanks SuperDani a.), and since then it's just been kind of bouncing around in there, here is the start of Lory Potter's story. You don't need to read The Aftermath first.
Disclaimer: Lory Potter is mine. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter One
The Boy Who Lived, and his Twin Sister.
Minerva McGonagall was normally a very proper witch: she kept her graying chestnut hair pulled back in a severe bun and her hazel eyes rarely exuded humour. Her mouth even now, as the whole of the wizarding world celebrated, was set in a firm line. She'd been perched upon a stone wall outside Number Four, Privet Drive for the most part of the day, cleverly disguised as a house cat. Now she waited impatiently for the older man who'd appeared at the end of the street to approach her. First, however, he withdrew what appeared to be a small silver lighter from his cloak and clicked it twelve times: the light posts lining the street went dark one by one with each click.
"Good evening, Minerva." Albus Dumbledore smiled at the straight-backed witch, his blue eyes twinkling and his long beard blowing in the slight wind.
"Is it true, Albus? Is he really gone?" Minerva asked, ignoring pleasantries and cutting straight to the topic she'd been contemplating all day: the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort.
"Ah, yes. I must've passed a dozen parties on my way here." Albus nodded. He reached into his pocket, withdrawing something yellow. "Lemon drop?"
"What?" Minerva stared at his proffered hand with a wrinkled nose.
"It's a muggle treat I'm rather fond of." Dumbledore explained, popping one in his mouth.
"No, thank you." Minerva looked at Albus again. "Why are we standing out where muggles can see us? Despite the darkness, we are quite the spectacle."
The two of them did look very out of place standing in the middle of immaculate Privet Drive, she with her pointed hat and he with his long hair and beard, and half-moon glasses. Both wore long wizard's robes.
"Hagrid will be along shortly. He has Harry and Lorelai with him." Albus' voice grew heavy and his eyes lost their sparkle.
"You mean, the rumour is true?" Minerva forgot her composure momentarily, her mouth hanging open as she grasped Albus' arm. "Lily and James Potter are..."
"Dead, yes." Albus sighed heavily. He'd been fond of the young couple.
"The children survived?" Minerva blinked. No one had survived after Voldemort had decided to kill them. How could a pair of year-old babies escape that fate?
"Miraculously, yes. I have my theories on that." Albus nodded slowly. "For the time being Harry will be staying with his aunt and uncle. Lorelai will go to Alice and Frank Longbottom – Alice is her godmother, after all."
"You mean to leave the boy here?" Minerva cried, gesturing to Number Four. "But these are the worst muggles I've ever seen! The boy screamed at his mother all day long, demanding sweets and toys, and the woman gave them to him! She didn't punish him at all! You can't leave Harry alone with them, Albus."
"It is where he is safest, Minerva. Voldemort may be gone, but he most certainly has supporters still." Albus told her firmly. "Ah, here is Hagrid now."
A bright light, accompanied by a loud rumble as though from an engine descended upon them. An impossibly large man landed on the street beside the pair. He was perched atop what appeared to be a very large motorbike with a sidecar attached to it.
"Evening, Professors." The man called Hagrid swung a leg around the bike, careful not to disturb the sidecar. "Young Sirius Black borrowed me the bike. I had a bit of a time getting Lory from him though – he'd taken her on that muggle Halloween thing. Trick-or-sweeting, I think it's called."
Minerva scooped the girl up from the sidecar. Lorelai Potter was very much awake, her almond-shaped emerald eyes meeting the older woman's with a disturbing intensity. As Albus picked Harry up, Minerva made up her mind.
"Albus, they stay together." She said, her words coming out harsher than she'd intended.
"Pardon me, Minerva?" Albus met her gaze.
"You know they need to stay together." Minerva snapped, holding the bundle closer to her body against the evening damp. "They're going to need all the love they can get if you insist they're safest in that house. They've lost their parents, and those people won't provide any."
"Very well." Albus tipped his head in defeat and started up the walk. Minerva could've sworn she saw the twinkle return to those damnable blue eyes.
"Wait!" Hagrid called, his voice thick. "I'd like to say goodbye to the tykes..."
"Hagrid, this is hardly a goodbye." Albus smiled warmly at the massive man. "We shall see them in due time."
Hagrid howled in grief either which way, blubbering something about returning Sirius' bike. He flew off quickly. Minerva joined Albus at the door, setting Lorelai down next to her brother on the step. The girl's eyes now drooped, then fell shut completely.
"Come, Minerva. I've left a letter explaining things." Albus sighed for the first time looking impossibly weary. "I do wish we could leave them with someone else, but anywhere they go in the wizarding world, Harry will be recognized. He won't get a proper childhood there."
Minerva bit her tongue against the retort that had settled there – 'they won't get a proper childhood here, either'. The two of them walked back to the end of the street. Albus drew out the silver lighter-thing again, and clicked it twelve more times. The lights were restored, and the wizards disappeared with a crack.
Had either of them stayed, they would've seen a large man with thick, dark hair and very little neck open the door at dawn the next morning; would've seen him turn purple and call for his wife. They would've seen the two of them pick up the year-old twins and quickly re-enter their house, drawing the curtains shut against unwanted prying from their neighbours. Vernon and Petunia Dursley would keep the Potter children, it was decided, but they would not be happy about it.
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Nearly ten years later, Number Four, Privet Drive looked very much the same. The house and yard were still immaculately kept, and the only thing that marked the passage of time was a steady line of photographs of the same boy on the wall: a plump blond baby wearing an orange jumper, a plumper blond toddler held up by his bony blond mother, and school photos. In each, the blond boy got plumper and less happy-looking. By looking at the house, no one would've been able to tell that any children besides Dudley Dursley lived in it. The only hard evidence to the contrary was a very small photo kept on Petunia's night table of a boy who was small and skinny with messy black hair and bespectacled emerald eyes, and a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. Next to the boy in the photo was a girl who was equally as small and skinny, with a fierce spark in her emerald eyes and chaotic masses of ebony curls framing her face. The Potter twins were indeed still with the Dursleys.
"Harry!" A shrill voice accompanied by frenzied rapping woke them that June morning. "Lorelai! Up! Now!"
Lory forced her eyes open with a sigh before she reached across the small gap between their beds and nudged her brother with a thin, sharp elbow. Harry groaned then felt for his glasses. The two pulled on jeans and t-shirts in stead of their pajamas, backs to one another, and emerged into the kitchen from their makeshift room. In truth, the Potter twins slept in what was meant to be a pantry, just large enough for the two single beds shoved into it against the walls and a chest of drawers between them.
"Good, you're up." Aunt Petunia cast disapproving looks at the children, her eyes lingering on the tuft of hair that always stuck up on Harry and Lory's messy braid. "Finish up breakfast. And be sure not to let anything burn. I want everything special for my Diddums' special day."
The twins exchanged dark looks as Aunt Petunia left the room. How could they have forgotten Dudley's birthday? It was only all that had been discussed for weeks. Lory twisted her braid into a loose bun, securing it with another elastic, and set the table while Harry moved to finish frying bacon. Lory had just set the last cup on the table and refilled her uncle's coffee when Dudley joined them in the kitchen with a beaming Aunt Petunia behind him.
"How many are there?" Dudley demanded, going instantly to his pile of presents on the side table.
"Thirty-six." Uncle Vernon emerged from behind his newspaper with a proud smile on his large face. "I counted them myself."
Lory and Harry sensed a tantrum coming as their cousin's face screwed up as it did when he was trying to think. Lory swigged her juice so hastily she choked a bit while Harry wolfed down his bacon. Dudley was known to turn over the table when upset.
"Thirty-six?" Dudley asked loudly. "Last year I had thirty-seven!"
"Oh, Diddy darling, we'll buy you two more presents when we're out today, how does that sound?" Aunt Petunia said swiftly, looking at her son lovingly.
"That'd make..." Dudley's face screwed up again. "Thirty-eight. Yeah, okay."
"Tyke wants his money's worth." Uncle Vernon chortled, going back behind his paper. "Just like his father."
They'd gotten through breakfast without any more trouble. Dudley unwrapped his gifts, which included a number of computer games, a cinema camera, and a racing bicycle. Why he wanted that, neither twin knew, as their cousin had no interest at all in exercise. As Dudley unwrapped the bike, the phone rang. Aunt Petunia went to get it while Dudley continued his greedy activity. Aunt Petunia came back to the table a short while later looking upset.
"That was Mrs Figg, Vernon. She's broken her leg and can't take them." she jerked her head at the twins. Their aunt and uncle often talked about them like they weren't there. "She said she was willing to take the girl, but she couldn't have two children underfoot."
Mrs Figg was the batty old woman down the street who watched the twins when the Dursleys were out. She had about a dozen cats and kept her charges entertained by showing them pictures of her previous cats, and watching old episodes of Eastenders. Lory shuddered at the prospect.
"Well, we can't very well leave him home alone." Vernon snapped, crunching up the paper in his hands. "He'd probably rob us blind, then burn the place down."
"We'll just have to let him come along and sit in the car." Petunia said resignedly.
Lory escaped the argument that she knew would happen after that: Dudley would pretend to cry and claim Harry would ruin everything, Aunt Petunia would sooth him, and Uncle Vernon would promise him more gifts. Lory stole up to the bathroom and showered quickly. As she rinsed her sudsy hair, she thought, 'Really, I'm getting the better part of the deal'.
She loved her brother dearly, but it was rare that she got time to herself, and rarer still that she didn't have one of her overbearing relatives to accuse her of being lazy and thrust a sponge or pair of hedge trimmers at her.
She rejoined her family just as Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss entered the kitchen. Aunt Petunia gestured for Lory to follow her. Lory looked at her pointedly, muttering, "Just a moment, Aunt Petunia."
Lory grabbed Harry's wrist and tugged him into the foyer. Harry was used to his sister dragging him along behind her, so he didn't ask any questions.
"If they try anything, let me know." Lory instructed. "Ickle Duddykins won't like if I tell Mummy dearest he's hit a girl."
It was true. The one thing Aunt Petunia had ever gotten truly upset with Dudley about was when she found out he'd given Lory a black eye in a schoolyard tussle. She'd shrieked that gentlemen did not hit young ladies, and taken away his dessert.
"Lory," Harry sighed, "I can fight my own battles."
"You can." Lory agreed placidly. "But you won't. You're too tenderhearted, big brother."
"Lorelai, come along." Aunt Petunia appeared in the doorway with the car keys in her hand. "Mrs Figg is waiting."
Lory stared sullenly out the window on the three block drive to the old woman's house. Aunt Petunia glanced over at her, opened her mouth, then shut it again shaking her head. The older women exchanged a few words – mostly just the approximate time the Dursleys would collect Lory – and Aunt Petunia was gone.
"Well, girl, let's put on the tea, shall we?" Mrs Figg looked at Lory expectantly. "Eastenders is due to start in a moment."
Lory followed Mrs Figg into the kitchen and sat at the table with Tibbles and Mr Paws. She scratched Mr Paws' head absently as Mrs Figg prattled on about who was now married to whom on the soap. Lory hadn't missed much in the year since she'd last seen it. They sipped chamomile tea and nibbled on stale biscuits as they watched the programme. Once it was over, Mrs Figg switched off the television and looked over at Lory.
"Would you like to hear a story, Lorelai?"
"Uh, sure Mrs Figg." Lory nodded uncertainly, thinking it'd be a story about some dear departed feline.
"Once upon a time, in a castle just a train ride away, there lived an old wizard. Now, this wizard was the most powerful of his age. He turned his castle into a school, where he taught young witches and wizards all he knew.
"One of his students harboured a hateful secret, however: He was a Dark Lord. The Dark Lord hated all those without magic, vowing to destroy them all. This dismayed the old wizard; he taught that wizards and non-magic folk were equals and could live together in peace.
"After the Dark Lord left the old wizard's castle, he recruited like-minded wizards to join his cause. He gradually gained power over the next decade until he was just as strong a wizard as his former teacher. Many people died at his hands. The Dark Lord felt no remorse, however. He thought his mission was vital.
"Then, when the Dark Lord thought himself invincible, he heard a rumour: there would be a boy, born to those who had thrice defied him, who would have the power to defeat him. The Dark Lord knew at once who this boy was, and set out to find him. When the old wizard heard of this, he immediately placed the boy and his family in a safe place. For many months the Dark Lord searched and could not find the boy. The old wizard had put many enchantments around the place the boy was staying.
"Then on Halloween, something unexpected happened: one of the family's dearest friends betrayed them. The Dark Lord appeared at the safe house and killed the father in a duel, then advanced to the nursery where the mother was barricaded with the boy. The Dark Lord gave her a choice to hand over the boy so she herself could live, but she loved her son too much to allow him to die. She sacrificed herself so that he might live. When the Dark Lord turned his wand on the boy, something strange happened: his curse rebounded and struck the Dark Lord.
"Some say it was love that ended the Dark Lord, seeing as he didn't have any in his heart. Some say that it was the boy's sheer power. Either way, it was the end of him. They boy was placed with his family, where he grew up until he was old enough to go to the old wizard's school. And as they say, he lived happily ever after, with a few minor speed bumps."
Lory had been listening intently to Mrs Figg's story. She knew it was farfetched; magic wasn't real. There was something about the tale, however that seemed uncomfortably familiar. Mrs Figg didn't allow for any questions to be asked and instead turned the television back on. Eastenders was playing again. Lory sighed and settled in to watch.
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Lory was collected by Aunt Petunia earlier than expected. She was bundled into the car and had to sit between Harry and Dudley. Piers had already been dropped off. Harry looked extremely confused and a little angry, while Dudley looked terrified. Lory shot a questioning look at her twin, who mouthed 'later'.
Once they'd arrived back home, an ashen Vernon grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck and shoved him towards the kitchen.
"You. Pantry. Stay." He rasped.
Lory was impressed. Whatever Harry had done had left their uncle speechless. Vernon Dursley was many things, but speechless was not one of them. The two of them entered their pantry, lying down on their beds. For a while, both were silent. Harry stared at the ceiling while Lory studied her brother.
"What'd you do?" She asked finally.
"I talked to a snake. Then Dudley fell into the exhibit. The snake escaped." Harry said flatly.
Lory couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. Harry glared at her. She collected herself and sat up on the bed, fidgeting with her hair.
"I'm sorry. It's not really that funny. But Mrs Figg told me a story whilst I was there. It was about magic. The way she told it made it seem like magic was real." Lory sighed, beginning to braid her long tresses.
"Magic isn't real, Lory." Harry spat.
"Oh, so you talking to a snake is perfectly reasonable, but magic is bullocks?" Lory snapped back, a little stun by the vehemence in Harry's words.
"It's not like the snake could understand me!" Harry retorted, but colour rose in his cheeks. Lory knew he was lying. "Besides, if magic were real, mum and dad wouldn't be dead and we wouldn't be here!"
The twins glared at one another, then each rolled so that they were facing the wall. It was the end to their conversation for the night.
