The Life We Lead
Summary: Harry's the Boy Who Lived, right? Well, whatever happened to his twin sister, Shay, who is all of the sudden left in the shadows after her brother received his instant fame? Will she be just like Harry? No, ahem... actually, more like the total opposite...
Warnings: If you love the Golden Trio, and hate all Slytherins with a fiery passion, DO NOT READ! Contains heavy bashing of major characters. Including (but not limited to)- Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore. Will also have harsh language, drinking, suicidal behaviour, and other dark themes.
Author's Note: Just letting everyone know that, while I love Harry and all of the Gryffindors (especially the Marauders), I have a soft spot for the Slytherins. This is going to be a dark story, and slightly AU for the addition of Harry's sister. This will go through all seven books, sometimes skimming the 'early years' other times going really in-depth. This particular chapter is almost an exact copy of the book, but there are differences, too. This will not happen again. Thanks for reading.
Disclaimer: Pay attention, this is the only time you will be seeing one of these. I do not own Harry Potter. All I'm doing is mucking around in the universe Rowling created for a little while. I am making no profit from this.
Prologue: That Girl with Hazel Eyes
...Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's finally disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor a women had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe until Dumbledore said it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.
"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night, Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are- are- that they're– dead."
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James ... I can't believe it ... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."
Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.
-Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, P- 12, The Boy Who Lived
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's children, Harry and Shay. But- he couldn't. When he went to kill Harry, he just couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why or how, but he just couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone."
Following Dumbledore's nod, Professor McGonagall seemed to be at a loss, "It's- it's true? After all that he's done... all of the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little child? It's just astounding... of all of the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry, and Shay, for that matter, survive?"
"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took out a watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"
"I've come to bring Harry and Shay to their aunt and uncle. They're the only family the children have left now."
"You don't mean- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry and Shay Potter come and live here!"
"It's the best place for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to the two when they are older. I've written them a letter."
"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! Harry be famous- a legend- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in future- there will be books written about Harry- every child in our world will know his name!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, they'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, "Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry and Shay underneath it.
"Hagrid's bringing them."
"You think it- wise- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?"
A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.
If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast muscular arms he was holding two bundles of blankets. How he could drive a flying motorbike like this was simple- he was so huge, both bundles fit securely, but perhaps not that safely, in only one of his arms.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."
"No problems, were there?"
"No, sir- house was almost destroyed but I got 'em out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. Little Harry fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol, but his sister is still awake."
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the two bundles of blankets. Inside one, a little girl with black hair and hazel eyes looked up at them, a curious expression on her face. The adult's attention was not on her for long, though, because inside the other, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
"Is that where- ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar for ever."
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well- give them here, Hagrid- we'd better get this over with."
Dumbledore took Harry in his arms, while Professor McGonagall took Shay, and turned towards the Dursleys' house.
"Could I- could I say goodbye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.
"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall. "You'll wake the Muggles!"
"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it- Lily an' James dead- an' poor little Harry an' Shay off ter live with Muggles-"
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, then took Shay from Professor McGonagall and did the same for her, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundles, more pointedly Harry's; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice. "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir."
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the two bundles of blankets on the step of number four.
"Good luck, Shay. And good luck, Harry Potter," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Shay stared up into the night sky above, until she yawned and finally fell asleep. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he and his sister would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley ...He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter- the boy who lived!"
Or, as his sister would one day call him- The Git Who Just Won't Die.