Author's note: I originally posted this story in installments on my main account ("Qoheleth"), but I decided about a month ago that the ending I had in mind was utterly pointless, and deleted the story accordingly. In retrospect, however, it seems to me that the chapters I've already written should exist somewhere on the Internet, and I have therefore decided to post them on this, my backup account. This story should, accordingly, be treated as a historical artifact, and not as something that will ever be updated.
Disclaimer: Here we have J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, and all other owners of Harry Potter. And here we have me. Can you tell the difference? No? Well, trust me, it's there.
On the thirty-first day of October, 1981, the dread wizard Voldemort entered the sanctuary of Lily and James Potter. Without mercy he slew both husband and wife, and then turned his fury on their infant son, Harry; but the grace of a mother's love was upon the boy, and Lord Voldemort's curse rebounded upon himself, leaving him a broken and feeble fraction of a human being.
The news spread more quickly than the fastest owl could fly, and by that afternoon all the magic-workers of Britain were toasting "Harry Potter – the boy who lived". What none of them knew, however, was that there was another survivor of the scene, one who had escaped Voldemort's wrath through her own invisibility – and that she was destined, one day in the far future, to bring about the downfall of her illustrious sibling…