Part I
Prologue One
It was a stormy, gray night, the night Harry Potter stood in his final battle against Voldemort. A young, beautiful woman was rocking gently in a creaky ebony rocking chair. She held a baby bundled in a thick, green blanket resting in her lap. She sung to it in a high, chilling voice.
The woman wore a large, checkered white and green shawl over a black dress. Her dark red hair was thin and curly, and styled expensively. She had bright, clear blue eyes and a pointed face.
"Don't worry, my love," she cooed at the baby, "He will rid us of that pesky boy."
The baby gurgled and looked concerned, as if she was worrying for the well-being of the boy the woman spoke of. She waved her arms in the air, her tiny baby hands balled into fists.
Suddenly, the woman cried out, and doubled over, nearly dropping the baby. She gripped her wrist, yanking up her sleeve violently. On the underside of her wrist, the tattoo of a snake coming out of the mouth of a skull was burning brightly, searing her skin, blackening its silhouette into her delicate, pale wrist.
"No," She whispered in shock, "It—it can't be!"
The baby laughed, delighted for some reason.
She stared in astonishment at the baby, not really seeing her. They'll come after me next the woman thought, but they don't know about you yet.
In a rush, the woman stood, and started over to their red-brick fireplace before stopping just before it, changing her mind, and grabbing her black wand. She waved it and disappeared into thin air.
She reappeared not that far away, in some thick bushes. The baby had started to wail from the frightful experience of apparating. Across from the shadowy bushes, quaint, slightly run-down houses stood, waiting. The road was cracked, and the houses old, but the woman was not worried. Since the Dark Lord had been defeated, this neighborhood would be returned to its former glory.
She slowly crept across the street, setting the baby down in front of a dark red brick house. She tapped lightly on the door before apparating back across the street.
The ebony wood door creaked open slowly, fearfully. A dark green eye peered out. "Who—who's there?" A young man's voice asked, trembling slightly.
As if in response, the baby laughed happily, waving her tiny arms. "Oh my!" The dark eye widened slightly, "Ella! Come here!"
"Who was there?" A sweet woman's voice asked fearfully from inside.
The door opened wider, and a tall, blonde man bent down to examine the baby. "There's—there's a baby here!"
"What?" A woman appeared. She had wavy, thick auburn hair and hazel eyes. "Who… who left her here?" She asked.
"I—I have no idea," the man was baffled, but picking up the baby as if she was his own, "Someone knocked and she was just… here."
The woman crouched as well, putting a small hand on her husband's back, and peering kindly at the baby. "We can't stand out here. Let's bring her inside?"
"Should we… should we keep her?" The man looked longingly at the baby's small face.
"Of course," the woman exclaimed, "We can't just leave her out here!"
And with that, the couple stood, and went inside, closing the door tightly behind them.
In the bushes across the street, a woman in a green and white checkered shawl smiled, her red hair glinting in the lamplight like fire.