November 2025

It wasn't even five o'clock and it was nearly dark. I pulled my jacket closer around me. My mom was standing off by herself, tears streaming down her face and sobs wracking her body. I saw my dad standing with Mrs. Weasley. The whole scene made me sick. I was about to turn away when my older brother Rowan placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, looking away so he couldn't see what I was really thinking.

"Cass..." he said, dragging my arm and leading me to a clump of trees away from the other mourners. "I know you and I know when you're not okay."

"It's not that he's dead, it's the way people are treating me. I don't know, maybe that sounds selfish, but I don't want people always asking how I'm doing because 'my father died' because you know what? My biological father might have died, but my real father, the guy who raised me and tried his hardest to love me even though I wasn't his, isn't dead. He's standing right over there with Mrs. Weasley," I said, pausing to breathe. "Besides. Maybe some part of me is almost happy that he's dead. After all, he did tear our family apart."

Rowan's green eyes turned dark and he looked as if he was going to slap me. "Don't you dare say that," he said in a restrained voice as he stepped closer to me. "You can't put it all on Ron, because Mom and Dad both had some part in this. And it still wasn't all their fault. It all goes back to Voldemort."

I nodded and took a big breath. "You know, people have really got to give us Potter kids some sort of credit. We had a severly fucked up childhood and you'd think we'd all hate each other or something but we actually turned out pretty normal."

Rowan cracked a smile. "Ahh...there's the little sister I know," he said, going to mess up my hair. I swatted his arm away and we both walked back up the hill.

September 2005

"Harry..." I looked over at my wife Hermione. Her voice was tired, she had just spent seven hours in labour with our third child. "Harry," she said again, her voice sounding weary, "Isn't she beautiful?" I looked down at the newborn baby in my wife's arms. There was a puff of bright red hair on her head.

"Heh," I laughed, "Wonder if she's mine." It was a joke. Our two boys had brown hair, Rowan's a lighter color, Nathan's so dark it was nearly black.

"Don't be silly Harry," Hermione said quickly. "Your mum had red hair."

A few days later Ron Weasley came by the house. He wasn't the same man he had been before the war. He usually stayed home and avoided people, but he made it a point to come see his nieces and nephews at special occaisions.

"So what is it this time? Another boy or do I finally have a niece?" he said to me, grabbing a drink from the icebox.

I beamed my new dad smile at him but before I could tell him the good news, my oldest son Rowan came skipping into the kitchen. "Uncle Ron! Uncle Ron! You have to meet my baby sister!" he yelled. Ron's eyes lit up at the news.

"Ron Weasley, if you would just wait here a moment, I would like to introduce you to Cassidy Genevra Potter," I said, backing into the living room. I was going to get Cassidy from her bassinet and bring her to Ron myself, but Hermione was sitting in the rocking chair with her and she was just getting up to bring her to the kitchen. I stuck my head into the kitchen and called out to Rowan and his brother Nathan, "Boys, could we have a drumroll please?" They started smacking at the table. Ron even joined in. I stepped away from the door and waved Hermione and Cassidy in. Suddenly, the twinkle in Ron's eyes disappeared and were replaced by a flash of fear. I followed his eyes right to the top of Cassidy's head. Right to the red hair. That was when I first had my doubts.

January 2000

I woke up to people shouting. "I think there's one alive over there!" I opened my eyes and saw that I was in a field, the snow and grass stained red from blood. In the distance I saw a tent with caskets piled outside the entrance. Whether they were empty or not, I didn't know. I heard footsteps crunch in the snow to my left and whipped around, wand at the ready.

"Relax mate, it's just us," a young blonde bloke said. It was Colin Creevey. He had been in the year below me at Hogwarts. Ginny's year. Ginny. Suddenly images from the night before flooded my mind. Ginny diving in front of Harry to save him from the Killing Curse. Bill and George trying to take on Bellatrix Lestrange. Lucius Malfoy standing over my father's body. Oh and Percy. Oh Merlin, Percy. In his death eater robes. Aiming his wand at Hermione. I shouted those horrible words, so foreign to me. Percy was gone too. They were all gone.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I cried out. I clutched at my chest, feeling my heart rip into two.

"Ron, are you okay?" Colin asked looking into my eyes.

I narrowed my gaze and clenched my teeth. "In the past twenty four hours I have seen five of my family members die," I hissed. "Do you think I'm alright?" Colin backed away.

"Oh Ron!" I heard a sob from behind me. I turned towards the sound. Hermione. Beautiful, sweet Hermione. 'She made you kill your own brother.' A voice in my head tells me and the moment replays in my mind. I felt her arms wrap around me and I pushed her away.

I stood up and brushed past the inquisitive group of young Aurors. "Just leave me alone. All of you," I said, walking away.

May 2008

I sat down at a cafe in Muggle London. "Cassidy, sit right here in the grown-up chair and mind Mummy," I said, placing my two and a half year old daughter on the chair. I sat down next to her and started pushing the stroller back and forth to put my one and a half year old son to sleep.

The waitress approached to take my order. "Hello there!" she said, kneeling down to be at Cassidy's level. She glanced over at me. "You must look like your father!" she said.

"Actually, she looks like her grandmother. Just got to wait for her eyes to turn green and she'll be the spitting image," I interjected. I hated when people automatically assumed she looked like the father. I knew the red hair came from Harry's mum, but when people that didn't know me assumed that the red hair came from her father, well it just made me think of Ron Weasley and a few things I wasn't too proud of. That and my broken heart.

"Oh these pretty blue eyes aren't going anywhere," the waitress said, smiling.

"Nonsense. All my boys were born with blue eyes and they've changed to all sorts of colors since," I said. I was smart. I knew that all babies were born with blues eyes and eventually they changed. And I knew that it was supposed to happen in the first year or so. It's just that it hadn't yet. I was still waiting.

"They would have changed a long time ago. Yep, you're just going to be a pretty red haired blue eyed girl!" she said. "Now can I get you anything?"

Suddenly I felt nauseous. "I - I don't feel so well. I ought to be going," I said, fearing if I opened my mouth I would get sick. I grabbed Cassidy's hand and pulled her from the chair. "Come on, we're going home now"

"Maybe another bundle of joy's on the way!" the waitress called after us.

"Prying wench," I muttered under my breath.

When I got home, I put the kids down for their naps and reminded myself to thank my parents for taking the older boys out today. I went back to the kitchen and flooed St. Mungo's and asked for Dr. Clearwater, my childrens' pediatrician. She wasn't in, so I wound up talking to her nurse, Tricia Doychak.

"Nurse Doychak," she said, snapping her gum, "How can I help you?"

"Hi, I just have a few questions concerning my daughter Cassidy. At what age should her eyes change colour?"

"If they are changing colour, you might want to talk to somebody in spell damage."

"No, she's just a baby, it's not a spell!"

"Well then maybe you should look into the possiblilty of her being an animorphagus." Snap snap snap.

"NO! I mean, all babies are born with blue eyes, correct?"

"Yes ma'am they are. Don't go questioning her parentage yet." She cackled. I groaned and got that nauseous feeling again.

"Well at what age should her eyes change to their proper colour?"

"I believe that they are at the colour they will be for life when she is 12 - 14 months."

"Okay...thank you," I said and shakily pulled my head back form the fire and sat down. Why did my baby have blue eyes?