Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

Written for Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition – Round Nine

Prompt – Shakespeare – It's simple, he's a literary genius, and it's time to remember his work. Each position will be given a play of his to base your story off. You don't have to follow the exact plot, just picking up on a staple of it or a key event would be enough. As long as you mould and modernise these plays into the Potterverse, you're good to go. Seeker: Twelfth Night

Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps

Word Count: 3000 according to Open Office

Magical Match

Harry reluctantly walked towards Dumbledore's office. He didn't know what the Headmaster wanted and, truthfully, he didn't really care. He wasn't ready to deal with the Headmaster after the horrible revelations of the last day. He didn't even want to think about Sirius.

He made his way up the stairs after murmuring the password to the gargoyle. He knocked on the door, Dumbledore's voice coming through not a moment later.

He glanced around the office, noticing the missing trinkets he had destroyed the previous day. If he hadn't been feeling as numb as he was he might have felt a smidgen of remorse.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he remained standing by the door, containing a wince when he saw Dumbledore's eyes dim slightly.

"Please, Harry, take a seat. I fear this may take a while."

Harry almost snorted. Great, more life altering revelations; that's just what I need, he thought, morosely making his way towards one of the available chairs.

Dumbledore sighed, and seemed to age in front of Harry's eyes.

"I truly do not know where to start. I believe it is best to start with the beginning however, this time, I do not truly know where the beginning is." Dumbledore closed his eyes for a brief moment, and Harry sat a little straighter in his chair. Whatever it was that Dumbledore was about to tell him couldn't be good. "Late last night I had an unexpected visit. That visit revealed to me something I had been made to forget for the last fourteen years."

"Someone obliviated you?" Harry frowned. He may not be the Headmaster's biggest fan at the moment, however he still found it hard to believe that anyone would be able to obliviate him.

"No, not quite. As you must have been told already, your mother was an exceptionally bright witch. Her specialty was charms. When she found out about the danger you were in, she tried everything to protect you. She experimented with the Fidelius charm. However, she did not want to hide a location, she wanted to hide a person."

"I wasn't hidden though," Harry murmured. "It didn't work?"

"I am sorry, my boy, the charm worked. She cast that charm on you, and on your twin sister."

Harry heard the words coming from Dumbledore, he just couldn't comprehend them. Sister? Twin sister? Since when did he have a sister?

"Since you were born, my boy."

Oh, apparently he had asked that out loud. And was now really the time to be a smart-ass? Couldn't Dumbledore see that he was having a small breakdown?

He looked into those blue eyes and felt completely lost.

He had a sister? He had family?

"I... what happened?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his armchair, and only then did Harry notice just how exhausted the man looked.

"The charm your mother created was a success. Voldemort still remembered the prophecy, so he still went after your family. Sirius and James were the secret keepers. James was yours. From what I can assume, when your father died it destroyed the charm that was cast on you, but it didn't interfere with the one cast on your sister. That was not everything your mother did, though. There was a safety precaution. Another charm that would deliver you, and your sister, to the secret keeper."

"But... Sirius was in Azkaban."

"Yes, something no one could have foreseen. However, you have to keep in mind that magic is all about intent, and it is sentient to some degree; as such, when the original destination wasn't suited, the magic sought an alternative. It delivered your sister to the person it believed would keep her safe."

"Where has she been?"

Who had looked after his sister? He had so many questions. He wasn't sure he wanted the answers to any of them.

"Your sister has been with Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

"Malfoy?" he gaped. "She's with the Malfoys? How the hell is that safe?"

"I do not fully understand how your mother's charm worked." Dumbledore sighed. "From what I have guessed, the magic sought someone from the same bloodline as the secret keeper, and it found Narcissa to be the most appropriate."

"A Death Eater?" Harry didn't even try to mask his disbelief. His sister had been raised by Malfoy's parents.

"Narcissa kept your sister safe," Dumbledore told him, his eyes gentle. "She came to me yesterday. The charm broke with Sirius' passing, and she came as soon as she was able to get away without anyone noticing. She told me that there was a letter with your sister, written by your mother, explaining what she had done. With Sirius as the secret keeper she could not reveal your sister's true identity, nor could anyone get that information from her through any means. She kept your sister, telling Lucius that the little girl was from a branch of the Black family. From what she told me Lucius only objected to the addition to the household later, when no Hogwarts letter came for her. However, Narcissa stood up to her husband, and your sister was allowed to stay. When the charm broke she knew that the knowledge could easily be ripped from her mind by Voldemort, so she brought your sister to me, and asked me to modify her memories so that she could keep both her family, and your sister safe."

There was silence for a long moment after Dumbledore had finished speaking. Harry knew he should say something, anything really. But he just couldn't. He didn't know what to say, what to think. What could he say? It was just too much. None of it made sense.

"How come you didn't remember when Sirius... when he..." Harry looked down.

"Because I was never told the secret, neither by Sirius nor by your mother." Dumbledore sighed again, removing the half-moon spectacles from his nose. "I cannot say that I know the particulars of the charm your mother cast. I can try to find it, to see how she created it and try to learn the theory behind the charm. However I am not confident that I will be able to find anything related to it. I truly do not believe we would be able to recreate, and truly understand, the charm without your mother's notes. However I believe that we have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment." Dumbledore's eyes softened, a twinkle returning to them. "My boy, would you like to meet your sister?"

Harry stared at the portrait with trepidation. He had been been standing there for the last half hour. He had never felt more like a coward. There was no monster behind that entrance, no evil being that wanted his death; it was just his sister. Why couldn't he just walk in?

'Because you're afraid that she'll be a female version of Malfoy,' a nasty, little voice whispered in his mind. 'You're afraid she'll hate you, like all your blood family.'

He told the little voice to shut up, and took a deep breath. He had faced worse things, he could do this. If she ended up hating him... well, it wouldn't be the first time a family member felt that way about him. It would be nothing new and he would just deal with it.

With a resolute nod he whispered the password, "Wynter Lily." His sister's name. A small smile graced his lips as the portrait swung aside; his sister had a beautiful name.

He walked inside and froze when bright green eyes locked with his. They were looking at him with such hope that it took his breath away.

"Harry." He barely heard the whisper before he had his sister in his arms. "Harry." He could feel her body tremble, and her tears fall on his neck. He had never been any good with crying girls, but this time he just wrapped her in his arms and whispered reassurances into her ear.

He wasn't even sure it would work until he felt her breathing coming easier, and her trembling stopped. She pulled away a little, tears clinging to her eyelashes and a smile on her lips.

"I've been wanting to meet you for so long," she whispered, a trace of desperation tinting her words. "Narcissa never let me. She said it wasn't safe. I'm so sorry that I left you alone."

"You knew about me?" Harry felt slightly numb at that admission.

"Narcissa told me everything. She didn't lie to me. She made it clear that I was not family to them, that aside from her no one could know who I was because her husband would sooner have me killed than raise me."

"Did she ever hurt you?" Harry managed to ask through gritted teeth. He knew what it was like to be unwanted. He never, never, wanted his sister to go through the same thing.

"No, she never hurt me," Wynter assured him, a small smile on her lips. "She saw me as a danger to her family, so she didn't truly love me, but she made sure I was taken care of."

"That's... that's good." He sighed in relief, his shoulders sagging slightly.

Wynter chuckled. Harry glanced at her, a small frown on his features. She grinned, and for a moment Harry was sure that he was looking into a mirror. She had his smile, his eyes, his cheekbones, even his hair – though it was longer than his. It was the first time he noticed that she looked just like him, a female version of him.

"The Headmaster was right about you," she replied to his unanswered question. "You are a truly kind person."

He blushed, and Wynter chuckled again.

"Let's have a seat. I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me."

Harry let himself be dragged to one of the sofas that was in the room, not complaining when his sister almost sat in his lap. He could understand the need to be as close as possible. The need to make sure that it wasn't all a product of their imagination.

"Why didn't you come to Hogwarts? We could have met sooner. We could have been friends." He felt her tense at his side and he noticed her paling slightly. "What's wrong, Wynter?"

"I... I don't have enough magic for Hogwarts."

"You're a squib?" he asked, and she flinched. He frowned, pulling her closer against him when she tried to move away. "There's nothing wrong if you are," he told her. "Magic isn't everything. You're my sister; that's all that matters."

She relaxed slightly, though he could feel that she was still nervous about it.

"I'm... I'm not a squib. I have magic, I can do a few spells. Just nothing above first year spells. I don't have enough magic for it. I can do potions, though. I'm very good at potions."

Harry smiled at her proudly, "Well, then you can tutor me. I'm absolutely terrible at potions."

She grinned at him, fully relaxing, and Harry felt his heart swell with happiness. He could get used to having a sister.

For the following two days, the Potter twins didn't leave each others' sides. Even at night, they usually fell asleep on one of the sofas curled up together. Even though Wynter's life hadn't been bad, it had been lacking in warmth and love. Harry could certainly relate, and the siblings were more than happy to curl up together and just feel the reassurance of having someone that loved them.

Sleeping curled up beside Wynter even kept the nightmares away, and Harry felt more rested in those two nights than he had felt in a long while.

"What are you doing?" Harry was leaning against the doorway to his sister's bedroom, watching her turn the place upside down.

"I can't find it," Wynter growled, glaring at nothing in particular.

"Find what?"

"Mom's letter." Wynter looked at him, and just like it had happened so many times before, he was stunned at how alike they were. "I wanted to show it to you. You said you had nothing of hers. I just wanted you to see how much she loved us."

Harry's heart constricted slightly. A letter from their mom? Until that moment he had never realized just how much someone could long for something. He wanted that letter. He wanted to hear, read, words from his mother that were more than a plea for his life.

"Is it back at Malfoy Manor?"

Wynter nodded, looking morose.

"I must have left it in my room. Narcissa rushed me to get everything packed. I must have left it in the drawer of my nightstand."

"Then I'll go get it."

"What?" Wynter looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious. You can't go to Malfoy Manor! While Voldemort isn't there most of the time, there are lots of Death Eaters around."

"It's our mom's letter. One of the few things we have of her. I have to get it back, Wynter."

"And how do you plan on getting into the manor?"

"I'm your twin." Harry grinned. "You must be still allowed in by the wards, so you just need to give me the Floo address."

Wynter narrowed her eyes.

"Please, Wynter, I want to read mom's letter." Harry could see his sister's eyes soften, and he knew he had won.

Harry was grumbling under his breath as he made his way through Malfoy Manor, doing his best not to be seen.

His sister had agreed, on the condition that he went in disguise. So his darling, little sister had given him a potion to lengthen his hair, and one that would correct his eyesight for a day. Naive, little idiot that he was, he had believed that would be it.

He had been wrong.

The little demon that was posing as his sister had given him her own clothes.

So, there he was, sneaking around Malfoy Manor, in a dress.

A freaking dress!

He tried to cheer himself up thinking that at least it wasn't pink, but it wasn't working all that well.

Just when he spied the door that would lead to Wynter's room, he felt someone grab his arm and spin him around.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Wynter," the blond murmured. "I've been looking for you. Mother wouldn't tell me where you went. Have you thought about what I asked?" Harry just stared wide-eyed at the Slytherin. Taking that as his answer, the blond shook his head, and before Harry could even blink Malfoy leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "Wynter, accept my offer. It will keep you safe if you marry into the Malfoy family. It will-"

"Draco? What are you doing?"

Both of them looked up, and Harry felt himself freeze when he saw Rabastan Lestrange walking down the corridor.

"It's none of your business, Rabastan," Draco almost snarled, his eyes narrowing on the approaching figure.

"I think it is, considering what I just saw." Rabastan stopped right beside them. There was a harsh glare on his features, but Harry could see a flicker of another emotion in the blue eyes. It looked an awful lot like sadness.

"I've told you time and time again, Rabastan: I don't want anything with you, no matter what my parents say. I don't appreciate the male body." With a haughty sniff, Malfoy turned around and walked away, leaving a frozen Harry and a despondent Rabastan behind.

When those dark blue eyes turned towards him, Harry felt his breath catch. Rabastan may be an evil Death Eater, but there was no denying that the man was handsome. Rabastan's expression softened slightly, surprising Harry.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Rabastan told him. "I know it is not your fault. I should know better than to want for someone who clearly does not feel the same."

Slowly, not even sure why he was doing it, Harry put a hand on the man's arm.

"Don't let him get you down. Malfoy has always been spoiled. You deserve better," Harry said, while wondering why he was trying to make the Death Eater feel better.

Rabastan looked into his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Your magic feels different. It calls to me."

Quicker than Harry thought possible, Rabastan grabbed onto his wrist. Rabastan took a step forward, and Harry tried to take a step back only for his back to collide with the wall.

"Why is that, Wynter? Why does your magic call to me now, when it never has before?"

"I- I..." Harry stuttered, his heart almost beating out of his chest. Rabastan leaned in closer, his nose tracing Harry's neck, and Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. To his confused horror, it wasn't out of fear.

Rabastan pulled back slightly, his eyes tracing every line on Harry's features. Slowly, gently, Rabastan brushed Harry's bangs away. Rabastan's eyes locked on the iconic scar, and Harry was sure he was taking his last breaths.

Then a mouth crashed down on his. It was nothing like Draco's chaste kiss. It felt like a claiming, a promise, and Harry was left completely breathless.

"I knew I had felt this before," Rabastan murmured when he pulled away, his hot breath washing over Harry's lips. "It wasn't nearly as strong in the Ministry, but I felt it. I convinced myself I was imagining things. Magical matches are so rare... But there's no mistaking this." There was a trace of awe in his tone, and it left Harry completely baffled. What did Rabastan mean? "Go."

Harry looked up at Rabastan with a confused frown.

"Wha-"

Rabastan kissed him again; fast, bruising, and breathtaking.

"Go. It isn't safe for you here."

Harry stumbled away, a slight haze clouding his mind.

"You'll hear from me soon, little one."

Those were the last words he heard before the green flames whisked him away.