Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Just to warn you, the five year old in this story listens to her dad too much and quotes a really wise and sweet phrase from him. It's sort of a tearjerker phrase.
25-year-old Harry Potter pulled up to the driveway of an ordinary looking house. He parked his Volvo and got out, opening the back door of his car. He bent over, took out a large bag and a small "package". He carried both of them up to the door of the house and rang the bell. He put the "package" down and, as the door opened, Hermione Weasley squealed at the sight of "it."
"Oh, she's precious!" she cried. The "package" turned out to be a young girl of about 5 years old. She had long black hair and her father's bright green eyes. She smiled, revealing small, even, white little girl's teeth.
"Who is this?" asked Hermione, bending down and picking up the small girl and tickled her. She laughed.
"This is my daughter, Janie," Harry grinned, although it was strained under the weight of the huge gift bag he was carrying. "Erm, 'Mione-?"
"OH!" she said, and led him in. Her husband, Fred Weasley, met her at the door. He took the bag from Harry, set it down with a mound of other gifts, turned back to Harry to say hello, saw the young girl, and froze. He drank in her looks, and, grinning, swiveled around to face Harry.
"You have a lil' girl?" Fred asked happily, taking the girl from Hermione and tickling her. Janie laughed again, squirming.
"Who's the lucky bird?"
Harry's eyes glazed over and his eyebrows creased slightly.
"She's…dead. She died when Janie was 2," Harry said, his voice quivering. Hermione placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Daddy?" Janie said. "Why are you sad, Daddy? Mommy is wooking at us, and she's happy, wike you say!"
Hermione and Fred almost started crying at the voice of wisdom coming from this young girl. Suddenly, two young twin boys, followed by a Ron Weasley, came running in and skidded to a stop at the feet of Fred. They had shaggy red-brown hair like their father and chocolaty brown eyes, like their mother. Fred put Janie down, who smiled shyly at the boys.
"Hi," the twins said together. "I'm James,"
"And I'm Karl." said the other. They smiled.
"I'm Janie," she said.
"We're five, and our birfday is in…" Karl stopped and looked at his mother for help.
"Two weeks," she supplied.
"Mine is in…" Janie looked at Harry.
"One month," he smiled at her.
"Cool!" said the twins. The new friend raced off to play, and Ron faced Harry, his mouth agape, sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead.
"Harry, mate? I know it's been five years and all, but why didn't you TELL us about the kid?" he asked, jerking his head to where Janie, James, and Karl were playing with Legos.
"I-I don't know. I guess the wedding brought back the reality of me still being depressed and not having anyone in my life, and when Janie came along, I just…got possessive and didn't want any of you to know about her. That's why I lost contact with you."
They all nodded, and Ron turned back to watching the children. After a moment, he turned back to Harry and Hermione (Fred had run off to mingle with the guests) and said, "I think this is the start of a brand-new Golden Trio."
Hermione and Harry smiled and looked at the children.
"You know what, Ron?" Harry said. "I think you're right."
6 years later
Janie Potter was curled up in her queen size bed. Her flannel sheets were a mess, and her long, thin limbs were sticking out everywhere. Her long, messy black hair was even messier, covering up her pillowcase and face. Her brilliant green eyes were shut tight, and she was quietly snoring. Her room, although dark, was covered with posters of her favorite bands, like System of a Down and Good Charlotte. She had and autographed poster of Simple Plan and System of a Down each, and, scribbled across an empty wall in red paint were the lyrics to, "American Idiot."
"Janie!" Harry bellowed up the stairs for the fifth time. "If you don't get up now, you'll miss your first train ride to Hogwarts!"
As thought those words contained immeasurable magic, Janie sat bolt upright in bed and gasped. She leapt out of bed, wearing baggy black basketball shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that said, "Flogging Molly". She flipped on the lights and, squinting, scrambled out of her pajamas and pulled open her closet door. She riffled through all of the contents, which were almost all black, and yanked a pair of black jeans and a dark green t-shirt. She yanked them on and grabbed a pair of ripped black arm socks that had once been a pair of black tights. She pulled them on and raced to her mirror. She pulled a brush through her thick hair and pulled it back into a messy bun. She quickly brushed on her black eye shadow and black mascara and pushed on her glasses. She grabbed her socks, jammed then onto her feet, and shoved on her black high tops. She grabbed her backpack, which contained her notebook, a ballpoint pen, quills, ink, and her black Labrador Retriever doll from James and Karl on her 8th birthday, threw it onto her shoulders, heaved her trunk up, and clattered down the stairs. Harry Potter stood at the bottom of the stairs, his arms crossed and smirking a smirk worthy of Draco Malfoy.
"I TOLD you to set your alarm, Janie," he said, and took her trunk. She just glared playfully at him and said, "Can we go now?"
Just as they were walking out of the door, the hair tie in her hair burst. Immediately, her long hair blew back in the strong winds. She swore loudly and climbed into the car.
"Watch your language, missy," Harry said mock angrily. He then laughed and stepped on the gas. They sped out of the driveway to Godric's Hollow and were on their way to the train station. Janie gazed out of the window.
What if I'm the only Gothic girl there? she wondered. I know James and Karl are Goth, but they're boys. Ah well.
They continued to drive in silence, both excited about the adventures waiting for them.
A/N: Woohoo! First chapter, done! Flames will be either ignored or used to roast marshmallows.