No one saw her. No one cared. Everyone was too busy rejoicing over him, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. No one listened for her faint crying from underneath the wreckage that used to be the Potter's home, and no one looked for her tiny, plump baby hands waving feebly. Lydia Potter shivered uncontrollably, her tiny heartbeat beginning to get slower...
But no one came for her. No flying motor cycle like the one her brother had been taken in, just the freezing, terrible cold. Snowflakes landed on Lydia's face, and she cried more, wondering how the warmth of the fire and her father's arms had disappeared so fast. She would never understand that her parents were murdered by the darkest wizard of all time, that her brother, just a year older than her, had survived the wizard, Voldemort's, deathly curse, and that she, Lydia, had survived out of shear luck; When Voldemort first came into Godric's Hollow, Lily and James had put her amongst the laundry Lily had been folding and Lydia had fallen into the pile, lying in the darkness as she heard her father yelling, her mother screaming, and her brother crying.
They were all gone now. That's all Lydia's two month old mind could make sense of. She didn't understand why the motor cycle had left without her, or why her brother now had a deep red scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. She didn't even know that she was dying, buried underneath rubble and snow...
Sometime in the night, however, a figure walked through the rubble, kicking the remains of a chair and throwing a stone that used to make up the fireplace. He came across Lydia quite by accident, almost stepping on her until he saw the bright pink blanket Lily had knitted sticking out from behind a pile of wood, probably from a wall. He bent down, brought the baby out of its depths, and watched her cry, clutching the blanket with a tiny fist. He reeled away from her when she tried to snuggle against his black cloak for warmth. Then, eyes filled with contempt, he tried to pull the disgusting blanket from her hands. Lydia bit him with all her might, and didn't let go. The man finally relented.
And just as Harry was being dropped off at the Dursley's doorstep, Lydia was being dropped off at the Malfoy manor. The man who had found her, otherwise known as Severus Snape, thrust the baby into Narcissa's arms as if he couldn't wait to be rid of her. By now her skin was a pale blue, and her eyes were partially closed. Narcissa had no idea that she was a Potter, so she took Lydia into their house lovingly, and put her near the fire, spooning her tiny drops of tea and honey to warm her small belly until she fell asleep. Draco began to cry, so Narcissa tucked Lydia in with Lily's blanket, placing her in a small brown packaging box, and went to tend to her son.