For geoffaree, DictionaryWrites, Lomonaaeren, The Sinister Man. So this is in thanks for the four writers who got me hooked on HP ffs. (I'm pretty late to the party.) I wrote this while in the hospital so it's not my best work. The ending is a bit abrupt because I ran out of time. The part under ** is where I had to rush.
Bellatrix followed him like a loyal dog and with twice the dedication. Despite her attention naturally being drawn to her lord, she stayed alert of her surroundings, wand at the ready.
She sneered at the small house in front of them—then her lips twisted into a mockery of a smile as they blasted through the wards. Soon the dark mark would light the night sky with Slytherin green and strike fear into the mudbloods.
Her lord exploded the door inward with a wordless spell. A baby cried while feet ran up the stairs. They split up wordlessy, Bellatrix taking the ground floor, her wand twitching with bridled magic. Panicked shouting made her hope that she'd find her own pray, but nothing was downstairs. She rushed to join her lord. She passed by James Potter's prone form. The blood traitor was still alive, why was beyond her, but she trusted her lord's decision. She did take his wand and physically snapped it in half. She tossed it at frozen form before continuing.
Bellatrix felt a thrill as she heard her lord taunting the mudblood. Lily was standing between the Dark Lord and, Bellatrix's eyes widened for there was not one child, but two—one in red and the other in Gryffindor yellow. Names were embroidered on them, but from her distance she couldn't read them.
The mudblood held her wand steadily, waiting for them to make the first move. Spells fired off, but Bellatrix didn't raise her wand, knowing there was no need.
An overpowered stunner slammed the mudblood back, nearly knocking the two cradles down. Her green eyes were slit open, fear and something Bellatrix didn't recognize in them.
"Was it not enough to snare a pureblood?" The dark Lord hissed at her while stalking forward. "You touched that which was far above your station, and you created not only one, but two abominations." With his offhand he brushed the cheek of the brunet squealing babies then doing the same with the redheaded one. As if sensing danger, their cries turned hysterical.
The mudblood screamed as the Dark Lord's wand flicked out, Avada Kedavra—and green crackled and splashed over the brunet child, but instead of sinking into pale flesh, the green congregated on his forehead.
Bellatrix sucked in a gasp and conjured a shield, but it was too late. Her lord, her master, and love was engulfed by his own killing curse, its power sevenfold—the sound of a hundred souls being burned alive. Bellatrix's scream was just as disturbing. The Dark Lord's shroud fell empty, a shadow of a snake escaping upwards then dissipated into nothing.
Bellatrix's bottom lip quivered, her eyes wide and glossy. Her mental shield slammed into place, time slowed. She wandlessly sent out an imperceptible wave of magic, analyzing her surroundings. James Potter hadn't moved, heart rate unnaturally slow. Mudblood bound, babies crying and somehow alive—but her lord was gone.
Rage exploded inside of her before just as fast she had it under control. Time dilated further, almost to the point of stillness. The killing curse that was always on her lips was poised to come to fruition.
…but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…
Bellatrix loved her lord, but she loved power even more.
Time resumed at its natural pace. She peered down at the child with the fresh lightening bolt scar on his forehead. With a wave of her wand she hid it then carved a V on the readhead's forehead.
Bellatrix cooed as she lifted up the baby that she would shape into the harbinger of a new world order.
James woke up the familiar and unsettling yank of a rejuvenation spell. "Lily!" he shouted while sitting up. Nary a second passed before he shouted the twins' names.
"They're fine, mate," Sirius said while helping him to his feet. James felt shaky. He looked around frantically. "They're upstairs."
There was something unreadable about Padfoot that made James uneasy. "What happened?" He reached for his wand and found nothing. It was close though, the hum of magic that resonated with his own—but the harmony was off, shrill and painful. He found it on the kitchen table which still had remnants of dinner covering it.
With shaking fingers he reached for his snapped wand, but his hand fell to his side. His mahogany wand, shined and well tended to, broken into two pieces. He felt like a complete failure. He'd been easily defeated by Voldemort, unable to protect his family, and had lost his wand. He was a failure. Yet, feeble sparks of magic gave him hope.
James swallowed his fear and the warnings he'd heard throughout his life. He jolted forward to grab his wand.
"No!" Sirus shouted, but James was too caught up in his own head to hear.
The wood burned his palms, blisters forming. Its core started to melt, trying to escape his hands. James pushed unrefined magic into it, trying to merge his wand back together—to get back part of himself that he'd never thought he'd lose. To repair just a little bit of the damaged he'd allowed to fall on himself and his family.
He couldn't hear Padfoot's panicked shouts over his earsplitting screams.
The taste of copper, choking on smoke, blood tinted his gaze. An absence of sound, a ringing he felt in his bones. The stillness was broken in an instant, the shouts of his friend enveloped him.
"Are you bloody insane!"
James clutched the twisted piece of wood, its core, and his solidified magic—magic that he'd scraped from his core—disfigured it—But he had his wand back, he was a wizard again. He wouldn't let his family down ever again.
James laughed breathlessly, spitting blood.
Sirius hauled him back off the ground where'd fallen again.
James sat up straight and at the ready as the already shattered wards twinged feebly.
"It's just Hagrid," Sirius soothed, grabbing James' shoulder to keep him upright. "Wormtail betrayed us. We have go."
Lily came down the stairs with the twins. Luggage was floating behind her, mostly baby supplies. James moved towards her, but was stilled by her glare. He was speechless before deep-set guilt flooded him. It was James' friend who betrayed them.
Lily looked paler than usual. Ivy and Harry were strapped to Lily's front and back, respectively. Harry was sleeping soundlessly, but Ivy… was red faced, and crying, a burn mark in the shape of a V on her forehead—and her leg twisted unnaturally. James raised his wand to fix her leg.
"Don't," Lily said, turning so he couldn't see Ivy. "The twisted her leg with dark magic. Only a mediwizard or mediwitch at St. Mungos can heal it." She pursed her lips, "With that warped wand you'll only make it worse."
James faltered, looking at his wand for the first time. The once straight extension of his arm and magic was now gnarled, crooked, and looked like it had been burned. With dawning horror—
"Not now, mate," Sirius shifted uneasily. "We have to get to somewhere safe."
A lump formed in his throat, but he nodded.
Time felt strange after that, surreal. Wormtail had betrayed them, Ivy somehow survived the killing curse, Voldemort's defeat. And then there were the horrified looks his wand kept getting.
James had broken a taboo.
Severus hated himself. There were so many reasons to. His father's toxic words that he couldn't shake. Bully that had dogged his every step at Hogwarts. Calling the love of his life a mudblood. Joining Lord Voldemort. And now…
He looked down at Lily's sleeping form. Her hair was more silver than red. Shadows under her eyes, skin as pale as death, breathing shallow.
Dementors were foul beings and any potion made from them were doubly so. But it was than her being a soulless husk. Memories modified to forget all those she loved and knew. But she was alive. And Severus would keep her save and rebuild their friendship, but nothing more. He would never take advantage of her like that.
Bellatrix had spared her with only the caveat that Severus sent her a lock of Lily's hair or nail clippings once a month. And keeping her hidden from the wizarding world.
Yes, Severus hated himself, but he would do his best to amend all his sins, even though he never could.
Britain's wizarding community was celebrating. Ivy was hailed as the savior, the first person to ever survive the killing curse, and was known as the Girl-Who-Lived. The war was over. The Death Eaters were unorganized without leadership, and were being rounded up easily. James's family was safe, and yet…
Everyone was looking at James with disgust. His wand had been snapped, signifying he was no longer worthy of magic. Forcing his wand back together was like a squib trying to steal magic from a wizard—And he had damaged his magical core along the way. It was nothing that could be seen, but anyone with magic could sense it. He'd only met one wizard who had done that before, and their brief encounter had left him shaken. And now he was a pariah.
Sirius was sticking by his side, but… Lily was distant, solely focusing on the twins. James could understand that. They'd nearly lost them—And James couldn't approach his children without them screaming and crying.
They were alive, but he'd lost them in his own way.
Lucius Malfoy held onto his cane with a death grip. Any second now the Aurors would apperate on the borders of his land, coming to capture him. He wouldn't put up a fight. That would be unbecoming for a lord of a Noble and Ancient House.
With a cool expression that didn't match how he was feeling, he watched his one-and-a-half-year-old son play. His presence reassured Lucius that despite what would happen, his line would go on. And Narcissa had never taken the mark. She would raise him right, even if the Black side of her was unrefined compared to a Malfoy.
The wards were tripped. Lucius downed a potion as he stood. Narcissa glanced at him before scooping Draco up and taking him to the nursery.
Lucius disappeared the vial then dispelled the wards. The potion would let him lie under any condition. It was supposed to be made by Snape, but the damn coward had disappeared the second there was a whisper of the Dark Lord being defeated. Lucius was left with a subpar potion. That was made clear when he was sentenced to Azkaban not even three days later.
Sirius nodded at Frank Longbottom, grateful that he was taking over for him, yet angry that no progress had been made at capturing Wormtail-Peter. He was also dreading going to see the mess that the Potter family had become.
He apparated outside of the Potter Manor, the wards washing over him and not repelling him—Not like what happened after the Potter family tried to go in. The wards and twisted and fought against James, not recognizing his magic anymore. Lily and the twins had nearly been killed before James grabbed hold of the wards.
Sirius shored himself up as he entered the manor. A house elf led him to James. A sense of nausea nearly engulfed him. He was looking over the bannister into the living room below. He had a glass of scotch in hand and was fingering his wand. Sirius shuddered, but quickly hid his expression.
Wordlessly, he went to his side. They watched Lily helping Ivy walk. Her leg had been turned in the correct direction, but unable to be fully healed. Even with the best healing magic, shed always have a limp.
"Head Auror Scrimgeour sacked me." His voice was monotone, worrying Sirius.
"That's not right."
James shook his head, his eyes never wavering from his family. "I'm as good as cursed. What use is an Auror who you can't trust? Who can be sensed drawing near? No one wants to partner with me anymore." James smiled wryly. "He did offer me a place with the Unspeakables though, to be studied."
"I'll look through the Black Library. There has to be something there about fixing magical cores."
James finally looked at him. "Thanks, mate." But there was no hope in his eyes.
Lily wouldn't look at him. James could tell she was avoiding him. He couldn't blame her. He just never expected… After all the nonsense he'd done in her presence before they got together—with her knowing how much of a wanker he could be, he never thought she'd pull away.
It had been three weeks with no improvement. Lily was starting to isolate herself from everyone, but the twins. She rarely let them out of her sight, other than when they were at St. Mungos for Ivy's appointments.
Lily was also jumpier. It made sense. They'd been betrayed and nearly killed. He wished he could talk to her, sooth her worries, but whenever he got close the twins would start wailing. He'd tried getting Sirius to talk to her, but she ignored him.
Separated from nearly everyone he loved, James felt like he was dying.
While those on the side of light feared the dementors, people like Bellatrix embraced them—in so much as breaking them down into usable ingredients. Polyjuice potion was not as dark, but just as useful for her plan.
Bellatrix wanted to burn Ivy alive—caring for a mudblood. Not one, but two. She could handle Harry though. He would have unimaginable power, and through him she would too.
And what a stroke of good fortune that she'd snapped James Potter's wand. He was so close to breaking, and Bellatrix would happily push the filthy blood traitor over the edge.
It came in three quick waves. James was kicked off the Wizengamot, despite Dumbledore's efforts. It was a hereditary spot that he was deemed unworthy of. Ivy, as his first born, was to take it over when she reached the age of majority. He didn't mourn the loss. He never had a head for politics, and with Dumbledore in charge he didn't have to worry about any radical laws being put in place.
The next hit had been obvious to anyone with eyes, but didn't hurt any less. Lily had filed for divorce. Normally, that would be nearly impossible. Marriages in the wizarding world, due to magical vows, were hard to break. But his magic had been damaged, unrecognizable. No one could dispute it. And James had begged, he'd cried, and bargained—But that hadn't changed the cold look in her eyes, one he'd never seen before.
The third was the most painful. Lily wanted to take the kids from him—and James had no leg to stand on, despite his heritage he was now considered sub-human.
The only thing that kept him together was that he'd have dual custody of Ivy since she was his heir, in exchange for Lily and the kids getting complete financial independence.
Harry's mum was the best. He knew that even at the tender age of four. She always answered all his questions and gave him biscuits when he used a spell with the wand she said belonged to the man who was stronger than even her!
And while everyone loved his sister the most, because she was the Girl-Who-Lived, whatever that meant, his mum was the only one who loved him more than Ivy. For once he was he was first, he didn't have to wait to be acknowledged, or have to wait while everyone fawned over Ivy and not even glance his way.
And he and his mum had secrets. She had lots of different faces only he got to see. She told him about magic that no one else knew because they thought it was evil. But there was no such thing as evil, only people too a-scared to be strong.
The best part though was that she'd given him some potion that made his mom even more his mom! Harry wasn't really sure how it worked, but he thought it was neat.
She also didn't force him to see Mr. James like she made Ivy. Mr. James was his dad, but being around him made Harry have a tummy ache.
Harry was a happy child, despite living in his sister's shadow.
Ivy was neither a sad or happy child. At the age of eight she still didn't really understand why she was famous. She couldn't even remember winning against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She only knew she got a limp and scar from him. She liked that people gave her sweets and gifts, even though her mum sometimes took them away and gave them to Harry. She didn't mind sharing with him. She just wished she had a choice to.
Ivy had spent her time split evenly between the manor with her dad and her mom at the Winter Castle. (Apparently it was called that 'cause it used to only be used in the winter, but her mum lived there all year 'round.) The only thing that her two homes really had in common (other than her) was that they were quiet, but for very different reasons.
Dad tried to talk to her, but it was like he was stuck in the past, always talking about Hogwarts, her mum, and all the pranks he used to play with her uncle. The stories use to make her giggle, but now she had them all memorized and only laughed to make her dad smile. She was the only one who could make him smile, other than Uncle Sirius. Mostly, her dad left her to read and play with the house elves—always smiling and waving at a distance.
At the Winter Castle it was quiet in a different way—in a colder way. Her mum ignored her in favor of Harry. Ivy didn't get why she didn't like her, or why she wasn't allowed to go with mum and Harry to the attic—and Harry never told her what they did up there, but he always came back smiling and with a flushed face. They were always spending so much time together. It made Ivy jealous. It didn't help that her mum sometimes made mean faces at her, but only Ivy seemed to notice them, so maybe she was imagining them? Mostly she just listened to the house elf, Luply, teach her maths, English, and history.
Her favorite time was when her mum left her and Harry alone. Luply let them play on brooms. When they were flying it was only the two of them. Her limp didn't matter in the sky or who beat some old wizard who no one ever said the name of.
She loved chasing the snitch with him, passing the quaffle, and dodging the (soft) bludgers. (And it was much more fun playing with Harry than with Uncle Sirius, who always let her win.)
She couldn't wait for Hogwarts and hoped they'd get into the same house and play Quidditch together.
Lily, or Ann, as she went by now, had finished her mastery in charms, and was halfway through her mastery in potions. She wanted to travel the world, but her and Severus' apothecary needed manning.
Besides, the Russian countryside was good for her weak lungs. She couldn't remember her run in with the rogue dementor, but she felt the results—shortness of breath, memory loss, and fear of the dark. Her hands were always cold, but at least color had slowly returned to her hair over the years.
And Ann liked living with Severus. They were just business partners, having invested 50/50 in the apothecary. He was her best friend, always making her smile with his dry observations. But sometimes he gave her pained looks that made her heart hurt and feel guilty. It was clear to everyone that he was in love with her. She was just thankful he never acted on the emotion though. She didn't want to hurt him.
She had a wonderful life, even though she felt like something was missing, something she didn't understand, but longed for even more each day.
On some level Narcissa was angry that her sister was free while her husband rotted away in Azkaban. The house of Malfoy was steadily falling without Lucius' political maneuvering and his incarceration.
Her Dragon was her only comfort. But without Lucius, Draco had no strong male figure for him to model himself after. The only one that was viable was Lord Nott, but he was unrefined and of a lesser house.
To make things worse there were no proper marriage candidates for her Dragon. The Greengrass family had two daughters, but they had been neutral in the war. The Parkinsons were purebloods, but were only an ancient house, mot noble.
She was the last of the Black family that wasn't in hiding, dead, or blood traitors. Her maiden name carried little weight with Sirius leading their house into the dirt.
She was dangerously close to feeling hopeless, but Bellatrix whispered plans into her ear—promises of a better future. She refused to give details though, sorely tempting Narcissa to hex her.
And her poor Dragon, her thoughts were always pulled to him. He was such a quiet child despite her encouragement. It didn't help that his only friends were daft and only stuck around because they were pledged to House Malfoy.
Truly, the only time he smiled was when Bellatrix visited and showed him spells that were beyond Narcissa's skill level. If only she was less of a fanatic, obsessed with power, she might have been a positive influence on Draco.
Sadly, it was up to Narcissa to push Draco out of his odd stillness and habit of not talking—through any means. After all, she was part of House Malfoy now, and she refused to see it sink lower.
Albus was a very tired man, despite the war being over—or at least the worse of it. There were many loose strings though. Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange still hadn't been captured. They hadn't even been heard from since Riddle's possible demise. It was disconcerting, not so much that Peter, who was never all that strong willed, but Bellatrix's silence could only spell disaster. She had embodied the worst of Slytherin values. The only reason she would be this quiet was if she was biding her time.
No doubt she was waiting for her lord's return—A prospect that Albus dreaded, yet prepared for as much as possible.
Another loose thread that haunted him was Severus having slipped through his fingers all those years ago. He had put his faith in Severus, believing he could be redeemed, but once again he'd been fooled.
He sighed. The potential for future Aurors was low in the past few years, with the exception of young Ms. Tonks. War was coming, but their ranks were weakening. Frank Longbottom was retiring, choosing to focus on his three children, one of which would be going to Hogwarts soon. Sirius Black had made the questionable decision to court Lady Zabini. And James Potter, the most promising Auror of his time rarely left his home. Lily Evans, no longer Potter, was the most confounding anomaly. True, she never desired to be an Auror, but he had believed she'd fight in any coming war, but ne didn't know what to expect from her now. She and James been so in love, yet she cut him off like a gangrenous limb. There was still hope for her though. She had applied or the position of Potions Professor. He had to believe that would bring her back into the fold.
Bellatrix never considered herself motherly. Having children was never in her plans. She'd briefly considered it when the last of the Black family line turned blood traitor, to have a child that was both the head of Lestrange and Black families, but her own aspirations shelved those ideas.
Yes, Harry had squirmed his way into her power-hungry heart. That feeling only grew when she preformed the ritual for a blood adoption on him—erasing some of his filthy mudblood origins.
He was such an attentive student, lapping up the ideas that only those with power should rule. And they had so many plans, winding and long plans. The only real fault in her son, other than his foul heritage, was his love for his gimp sister. Bellatrix had tried to cajole that weakness from him, but with no success.
The girl was testing Bellatrix' nerve today though. She was gruelingly slow. In retrospect, Bellatrix should have cursed one of her arms rather than her leg. She'd be less of an annoyance then. Even more annoying were all the sycophants who wanted to kiss the hem of Ivy's robes. Bellatrix just had to keep reminding herself that if she killed the girl that she'd have to give James Potter dual custody since Harry would become his heir. Oh! And Harry wouldn't be happy. And she wouldn't give him a reason to turn on her.
Bellatrix as cautious as she took them shopping for their first-year supplies. She'd kept her contact with the public to a minimum. Even with the ritual that gave her Lily's stolen memories, there were still blank spots. And despite all her practice she still couldn't master the soft smile that Lily once gave freely. Bellatrix could have taken more her essence to better play the part, but what she'd taken had warped her enough as is. She wouldn't risk diluting herself further. If her ruse was ever revealed she would either kill the one who found out, or escape with Harry, regrouping outside of the country before coming back in force.
At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions they ran into Cissy and her boy. Draco saw them and appeared ashamed. Bellatrix would have to scold Cissy later for allowing her son to show such weakness.
Ivy put on a brave face when she realized they were Malfoys. Harry just watched on with analytical eyes, absorbing information and cataloging it for later. It made the cockles of Bellatrix's heart war. Such a smart boy.
At Ollivanders she was proud to see that Harry received a wand with the same core as Lord Voldemort's. Bellatrix didn't pay attention to what Ivy got.
Ivy clutched her boxed wand against her chest, a sense of wholeness nearly making her faint. She just wished her mum would pay attention to her. When Ollivander gave her a wand made with the same wood as her mum's, Ivy expected her to at least acknowledge her, but she didn't even to hear over her own cooing over Harry getting his wand.
Ivy didn't understand why her mum only liked Harry. Maybe since their dad never got to see Harry, mum thought Harry needed extra attention. Maybe she thought that Ivy and her dad spent all their time together at Potter Manor, which wasn't true at all, and she didn't need anymore attention. That made sense, even if it made Ivy sad sometimes.
Ivy was just happy that Harry was walking slow enough for her to keep up as they walked through Diagon Alley. "We should get matching pets," she said to Harry.
He cocked his head to the side before smiling. "Matching snakes?"
She squeaked despite herself. Dad had told her endlessly about how bad Slytherins were and how they were all a bunch of slimy snakes. Plus, snakes just looked weird, like scary noodles with fangs. It took her a moment to realize he was joking. She blew a raspberry before shoving him, still keeping her boxed wand tight against her chest. Harry didn't even stumble, only smirking. She wished she was as self-assured as him. Ivy was the Girl-Who-Lived. She should be confident like her brother, but often squirmed when people thanked her for something she didn't even remember.
"I'll ask mum if we can stop by a pet store."
Ivy glanced at their mum. She was looking intently at a storefront, but Ivy could tell that she was impatient. Ivy's face heated up. She didn't mean to be so slow.
When they caught up to her, mum looked indulgently at Harry and readily agreed to get them pets. But no "useless toads".
Outside of the Magical Menagerie, mum gave Harry enough money for them to buy pets and all the supplies they needed, before leaving to do business of her own. Ivy dragged Harry around the pet store, ignoring the stares she always got. After a couple of minutes Harry freed himself from her grip, grumbling something under his breath.
From a row over she heard a girl about her age say, "But why are they magical and cats aren't?"
The question gave Ivy pause before she answered automatically, "Some cats are magical. They have to have kneazle blood in their family." Ivy heard the pitter-patter of feet. A busy haired girl in muggle clothes came into view, her tired parents trailing behind her.
"Do pygmy-puffs have kneazle blood in them?" Her dark eyes were almost manic, startling Ivy.
"Uhm, I don't think so?" Ivy racked her brain. "I think a magical animal is any creature that can do magic or is really smart." But she wasn't certain, and her explanation sounded weak in her own ears.
The other girl chewed that over. "Then why aren't the silver back gorillas magical? They can do sign-language if they're taught." Her eyes widened. "Can pygmy-puffs talk? Are they slaves."
"Hermione," one of the adults said, sounding tired, but firm. "Introduce yourself before give her 20-Qs." Ivy didn't know what that was and didn't get a chance to ask.
They bushy haired girl blushed. "Sorry! I'm just—I'm just so curious!" She patted down her hair to no avail. "I'm Hermione. I'm going to be a first year at Hogwarts!"
"Me too!" Ivy said, slyly avoiding giving her own name. Hermione looked like a muggleborn. Maybe Ivy would be able to make a friend on her own for once. "Do you know which house you'll be sorted into?"
"I'm not sure. I read Hogwarts: A History. They all sound kind of interesting. They made Slytherin sound kind of," her voice dropped, "evil."
Ivy nodded sagely. "Most of them followed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Both of my parents went to Gryffindor and fought on the side of the light! I have to get into Gryffindor." And no Slytherin, she added silently. Mum will never love me if I go there.
They chatted for a few more minutes about Hogwarts until Harry sidled up to Ivy.
"We shouldn't keep mum waiting," he said, but Ivy heard: You shouldn't give mum another reason to hate you.
"But I haven't decided what I want yet," Ivy pouted. She refrained from tugging on Harry's sleeve, not wanting to look like a baby. Harry smiled.
"I'll tell her I couldn't choose." Harry turned his attention to Hermione and her parents. "I'm Harry Potter, second born of House Potter. Well met."
"Potter," Hermione mulled the name over before her eyes lit up and she turned back to Ivy. Thankfully, she had enough tact not to act on her revelation. "They have some kittens that are just adorable."
Ivy took that as an invitation, but felt uneasy saying so. She didn't want her new friend to rush off and her to be too slow to follow with her limp.
"They're this way." Harry went at a pace Ivy could keep up with.
Ivy cooed at the seven half-kneazel kittens. She remembered Uncle Sirius saying seven was a good number in arithmancy, but Ivy figured he was just saying that because he was Lady Zabini's seventh husband.
"They're all so cute! Daddy, please let me get one." Hermione gave her parents doe eyes. Ivy had never used that look on her parents before. It would definitely work on her dad, but not so much on her mum.
Hermione's dad let out a long-suffering sigh. "As long as you promise to scoop its litter box every day."
Hermione vibrated in spot before visibly calming herself down. She seemed to do that a lot. She turned back to the kittens, practically pressing her face against the glass. "I don't know which one to choose!"
A store attendant stepped into view, "Just like a wand chooses its master, a pet has to choose you." His voice had a hint of mysticism that clearly enraptured Hermione and her parents. "Follow me." He twitched his wand. All the kittens were invisibly lifted by the scruff of their necks and to the attendant's side as he left. They had no choice but to follow him.
They ended up in a room near the back of the store. It had chairs with scratch marks, cat toys strewn about, and a cat tree that easily reached the ceiling. The store attendant unceremoniously cast finiteand the kittens fell, landing on their small paws, before he left.
Hermione's parents stood awkwardly by the door. Hermione (carefully) pulled Ivy to the middle of the room. They sat cross-legged side by side. Harry sat on one of the chairs, looking disinterested.
The kittens milled around the room, ignoring them. They instead groomed each other and attacked the toy. Ivy's heart sank as minutes flew by without any acknowledgment.
"Hello, beautiful," Harry said softly. Ivy glanced his way. A black kitten with short hair had climbed into his lap. It stood in its hindlegs, front paws on Harry's chest—a staring contest. Ivy held her breath. A rumbling purr started up. The kitten broke their stare-down then made itself comfortable in Harry's arms.
Ivy's heart twinged. Why did he get chosen first? Why did mum only love him? Some part of Ivy knew that if she wasn't the Girl-Who-Lived, no one would care about her.
Ivy perked up as a kitten paused mid-step, looking her way—calico with mid-length fur and caramel colored eyes. It let out a surprisingly deep murp then went charging at Hermione, nearly knocking her onto her back. Hermione's parents laughed softly as Hermione embraced the kitten.
Ivy looked at her lap dejectedly, trying not to tear up. A soft nudge on her back startled her. She straightened up. A kitten jumped onto her shoulder. It was 90% pure fluff sticking in all directions. It fell more than hoped into her lap. Green eyes and crazy brown hair, just like her brother.
Ivy smiled.
James sunk further into depression without Ivy living with him. His only true light was the weekly letters he got from her, blessing him with every detail she could think of—even her cat's, Plossums', bowel movements. After many years Remus came back to Britain and visited him. They were surprised to find out that werewolves weren't affected by James' warped magic core that repulsed everyone else with magic. The pair decided to live together, pariahs in their own right.
Ann, the real Lily, never did get a chance to travel the way she wanted to. Many years into her forced, but unknown exile an old issue of the Quibbler found its way into her hands. She thought it was fascinating and subscribed via owl right away. She wrote in monthly, eventually becoming a contributor. Lily and the owner of the Quibbler, Xenophilius Lovegood, fell in love with each other in their own way. It was only after Luna graduated that the pair went to meet up—without Severus knowing. He recognized her for who she used to be, having seen her likeness in his daughter's best friend, Ivy Potter. They fled back to Britain. When the truth of who she was and what happened to her came to light, Russian Aurors were sent to apprehend Severus, but he was gone and ever seen from again.
Conflict raged inside of Lily. Who she had been and who she was now were completely different. She bonded with her children, but never felt like she was truly their mother since she'd missed most of their lives. After a couple years she married Xeno and began a new life with him.
Draco Malfoy never once said 'My father will hear about this'. Instead, he was nearly crushed under the weight of his mother and aunt's scheming. During his forth year he was ordered to lead Ivy on then break her heart—to cripple her on the inside the way she was on the outside. But he found a kindred spirit in her, both with parents they never knew, and with heavy expectations weighing them down. They were friends when it was just the two of them. They could have been more, but Draco's views on blood purity never let them reach their romantic potential.
In Bellatrix's first year as Potions Professor was a deadly one. She killed the Weasley twins for somehow knowing she wasn't Lily Evans. That wasn't the last close call to her identity. She killed Quirrell when she recognized Lord Voldemort's magic on him. The following year she framed two students who provoked Harry into using a dark spell after they attacked Ivy for being the Girl-Who-Lived.
Bellatrix endlessly tutored Harry to the point of near exhaustion, forbidding him from playing Quidditch, which she considered a waste of time. She pushed and pushed him—always with the promise that power would grant his every desire. It was a siren's song that grew weaker as he grew older.
Ivy was sorted into Gryffindor, despite the Sorting Hat insisting she'd be happier in Hufflepuff. She'd wanted to make her father smile, and she didn't think she'd ever really be happy anywhere. Hermione was her first friend other than Harry. Ivy liked her enthusiasm even though her smarts could be intimidating. Neville was her next friend. He was a cheerful boy, only feeling down when his parents wrote to tell him that he'd missed another milestone of his younger siblings. She met Luna when Ivy was escaping bullies. The younger girl stood up for Ivy, confusing the bullies into going away.
In Ivy's second year she joined the Quidditch team as seeker. She found even more friends there, people who liked her for her skills rather than what she'd done as a baby. In the air nothing mattered, not her celebrity status or cursed leg.
Ivy never gained the love of her 'mother', but with help from Harry she stayed positive, focusing on her friends, Quidditch, and studies. When she met her real mother a broken piece of her healed.
Harry wasn't a happy child. He'd wanted to be sorted into Ravenclaw where he could continue the love of learning Bellatrix had unwittingly instilled in him with other likeminded individuals. But his mother insisted he be sorted into Gryffindor for some reason he didn't understand at his young age. He had a blind spot when it came to her, one that took years for him to overcome. It came to a head in his fourth year when Bellatrix had entered him into the Triwizard Tournament.
He was just so tired, envious of his sister's peaceful life. He didn't have friends, only allies. He saw himself as his mother's favorite toy. Through her meddling he survived the Triwizard Tournament and won. But because of her one of the other champions, Cedric Diggory, who was turning out to be Harry's first friend, died.
He couldn't take it anymore. He said his goodbyes to Ivy as subtly as he could, even giving her his cat, Snitch. He went to confront the woman he considered his mother despite knowing who she really was and that she'd probably killed his birth mother. He would claim his life or die trying.
They dueled in the potions classroom, jars and vials exploding with caustic innards, dark spells abounding—Harry slowly losing ground, but not hope.
Ivy arrived with her friends, casting weak, but persistent spells.
Bellatrix swore up a storm. She cast the killing curse at Ivy, but Harry wouldn't let her take another part of his happiness. He jumped in the path of the killing curse, and just as before it rebounded off him and onto the caster.
Silence reigned.
Harry wavered on his feet—Two scars appearing on his forehead, one old and the other new.
Ivy caught him, breaking the silence as she cried and begged for him to be alive.
And he was, his heart a confusion of mourning over his mother and singing with freedom.
He made a tactless joke that no one remembered from one moment to the next. It was a blur of motion after that, Dumbledore ushering them away, Harry admitting he knew who she was for quite some time, Ivy pleading with him not to go when he decided to get a fresh start at Ilvermorny.
Harry found himself there, and after graduating and getting his Mastery in Dark Arts he returned to Britain to take the post as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. When the cursed position tried to be his undoing he encountered a weakened Lord Voldemort and caught him with ease. The revelation of him having Horcruxes led to the dark wizard being put into a magic induced stasis that he never could escape from. No one but a select few knew what Harry had accomplished, and he preferred it that way.
Harry reconnected with his real family and lived the rest of his life the way he wanted to.