So yep, I'm starting a new story...hooray... Anyway, this is will be an AU version of the Sorcerer's Stone.
I do not own Harry Potter...I do own Chrys though...
The houses down Privet Drive were identical from the tippy-top of their weather vanes, down to the neatly trimmed blades of grass on their front lawns.
Nights on Privet Drive were consistent. The husband arrived home from work. The wife finished preparing dinner, and the family sat down to eat and hear about the husband's day at the office. After cleaning up, the family would watch television for an hour before retiring to bed. It was at this time of night that the quiet routine of the neighborhood stuttered.
A tall, thin man rounded the corner. His hip length silvery hair swung gently as he walked. His beard of the same length was neatly tucked under his belt, which cinched the waist of his rich purple robes.
The man stopped at Number 4, and nodded politely at the straight-backed cat sitting in the driveway. He chuckled. "I should have known," he said, smiling at the cat. The cat stared. The man reached into his pockets and shuffled around for a moment before coming out with what looked like a shiny metal cigarette lighter. He flicked the switch and the streetlights on Privet Drive began to dim. One by one, balls of light were sucked out of their cages, into the device.
Unlike during the day, when the house wives were inclined to peek out onto the street, Privet Drive was now a place of reasonable privacy.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall," the man said to the cat.
The feline grew in size, her form twisting and blurring until the straight backed cat became a straight backed human woman.
"How did you know it as me?" She wondered, eyeing him curiously.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly," he told her with gentle amusement. She said he'd be stiff too if he'd been sitting on a brick wall all day. The man suggested she might have been celebrating instead, which the woman thought indiscreet.
"You can't blame them," he thought. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"I know that," McGonagall grumbled. Still, people weren't even bothering to disguise themselves in muggle clothing. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-How seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all." She studied him. "I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
"It certainly seems so," Dumbledore said. He offered her a lemon drop, but she thought there were more important things to be thinking about. Were James and Lily Potter really dead? Dumbledore lowered his head. McGonagall gasped. Fortunately, their children, Harry and Chrysanthemum and survived... through reasons unknown.
"We can only guess," Dumbledore thought. "We may never know." McGongall thought that Dumbledore would have better guesses than most, but kept this thought to herself as she blew her nose on a handkerchief, eyes welling up at the thought of Lily and James being gone for good. Dumbledore sniffled a bit too, avoiding her eyes by glancing at his pocket watch. "Hagrid's late. I suppose it as he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"
McGonagall nodded, though she wondered what Dumbledore was doing here, of all places. Dumbledore explained that Harry and Chrysanthemum were being brought here to live with their aunt and uncle, the only family they had left. McGonagall did not approve of this, or of child rearing skills of Mr and Mrs. Dursley of Number 4. The toddler, Dudley Dursley had a habit of kicking and screaming until his mother gave him whatever he wanted.
Dumbledore said not to worry, he'd written them a letter. McGongall scoffed. As if a letter could explain anything like this. Still, she respected and trusted Dumbledore with her life... she supposed she ought to trust him with the lives of the young Potter children as well.
...but then again, McGongall was a little worried that Hagrid (who was well meaning, but also scatterbrained) was the one bringing the children here.
Luckily Hagrid arrived safely, though McGonagall could not approve of his chosen form of transportation. Hagrid's motorcycle came down from the clouds, thumping onto the street in front of them. Hagrid held the two blanket swathed babies against his chest.
Hagrid reluctantly handed over the children. Dumbledore laid the boy on the doorstep. McGongall paused (on the doorstep, really?) before laying Chrysanthemum next to Harry. Dumbledore nodded, placing a thick envelop between them.
Hagrid let out a howl of sadness. McGongall shushed him and he swallowed his tears, bending over to give each child a salty kiss on the head. As he straightened up, McGongall eyed the mirror image lightning bolt shaped scars on their foreheads.
One of the babies stirred noiselessly, her hand gripping at the other's blankets. McGongall's furrowed brow relaxed slightly. At least they had each other.
So, I know it's overused, but I wanted to try my hand on the whole, 'what if Harry had a twin' sort of thing. In this case, her name is Chrysanthemum 'Chrys' Potter. She will be heavily involved with Harry's adventures, but I don't want to make her just a female copy of Harry. She's going to have her own personality (hopefully not too sue-ish). Hope you'll continue to read :)
AoiKuroNeko