Hi. I'm Issy. This is my third fanfiction. I have a good feeling about it. So review, please. I hope you like it. Oh, and the narrator will alternate between twins each chapter.
Chapter 1
Nymphadora Potter, Age 11
Nymph sat cross-legged on her bed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She didn't want to go, she wouldn't go. She recalled a time where she used to play a game; a game where she was running away from her family and the Order and she would have a new life, be a new girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. But now she really was leaving. Becoming a new person. With a new name, new face. New family. And it wasn't as glamorous or as wonderful as she had originally thought. It was then that she recognised her fathers' presence, standing at the doorway, analysing the situation. Her father sighed, and entered the room to sit beside his teary daughter.
According to James, the sun is yellow. According to Al, the sun is bright and makes everything shine. According to Lily, it's a star that lit up everything and made it warm. But how would I know. Apparently, once, when I was young, I decided to find out. So I toddled outside and almost got run over by a bus.I have never been outside since. Today, I will leave 12, Grimmauld place and go out into the world. I will see the sun. But that is the only good thing about the current situation.
My father is Harry Potter. He is famous. He went out into the world and destroyed this awful wizard who was intent on killing all the muggleborns. I will not be leaving this house under the same circumstances. I will leave my home, for the first time, and go and live with another family. I will become a new person. It is for my safety. It is for the wellbeing of the entire family. The entire family's wellbeing rests on my shoulders. I will become the new Harry Potter, living in a cupboard until I am called to help the wizarding world.
My sister Lily and I were born in a time where those that were free and still idolised Voldemort, began to rebel. My father, wishing to save the family and the ancient Peverell line, decided that we needed a keeper. And so he devised a plan. The plan was to conceal me from the entire world. Nobody outside of the order was to know of my existence. I would live alongside my siblings, play dance, run. But all that I saw was all that came into our house. The outside world is like a fantasy land, as alien as Mars. I am destined to save everyone, when we inevitably fall back into war against the dark side. The world is dark, my father says. If you go into the light, Nymph, the shadows will swallow you up.
My father came and stood in the doorway. It's the signal to leave. I silently picked up my bag with my belongings and slowly walked towards the door. The door that I have never been allowed to touch. I stopped at the doorway, trying to soak my life into one big picture that slowly disintegrates through time, until eventually, it's gone and I have nothing left to remember. I followed my father and several intimidating order members out into the park across the street. It is here that we mount our brooms. For me, it is the first time. I could hear the grass underneath my feet. The cold grabbed me suddenly and I gave an unconscious shiver.
The air was fresh and nice, and the broom felt strange in my hand. I looked up at the sky. I remember being overwhelmed. It never ended. I had seen videos, memories of others, pictures of the sky and the world. But it still astounded me. It still does. My suitcase was hooked onto the broom. It was the colours of Gryffindor, my fathers' house, and contained some of his treasured possessions. I still had it five years on, except the colours have changed to suit my new school. The wind whipped my messy dark hair into a further mess as we gather speed and height. I felt like I could see something as big as the entire world, but I knew London was only a fraction of it. That night I flew over England. I saw the stars for the first time. And the sky. That night I soared across the water. And then I landed in France and met the family that wasn't mine.
Landing in France, it wasn't what I had expected. First of all, it was morning. That meant the sun. First it was pink. Then it was orange. The light almost blinded me. I almost toppled off my broom before dad cast a spell, enabling me to get used to the light. I wasn't used to such vividness. I could see the pools in peoples' yards, the trees that Rose had told me about and soon after that we landed. Secondly, I didn't land, I fell. Everyone else landed. It was the light. We were behind schedule. We were supposed to have landed when the sun rose. It was blinding. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. And the broom spiralled out of control. Dad said that I'd done pretty well for a first go. But I'd heard the stories. Id' done nothing like dad's first fly.
It was a small suburb with each house completely separate from the next, unlike Grimmauld place, which I noticed was a row of houses, one stuck to the other. These houses had grass, a short green plant which grew at the front and back of each house.
We stopped in a small park, where my father produced a small potion. Upon drinking it, I stopped being Nymphadora Katie Potter and became the girl with raven hair, yet to have a name. My long scruffy dark mess and green eyes were gone. In its place, straight jet black hair and blue eyes. My glasses had been previously removed, having given them to Lily upon my departure. I had left at 3 am, in order to arrive at dawn. According to dad, my family would be there. My family, that wasn't mine and didn't know about, My father, as protective as ever, had refused to give me any information other than I was going to France, which was obvious, as he insisted that I learn the language.
We walked along alley after alley, before reaching a rogue portkey, my father had created. Rogue because he hadn't registered it; thus being undetectable. We arrived, after a large amount of blue light and a rather uncomfortable jerk, at a small country town. I had taken a portkey before, from Grimmauld to the Burrow, where Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione lived, with George and his kids. We continued our walk. I had noticed that for a highly confident being, my dad was reasonably quiet. My entire family was quiet this week though. My father, trying to be spontaneous as to keep the plan quiet, had announced suddenly last week that today was the day I would leave. Even James was quiet, at least to some extent.
The house we stopped at was small but well composed, with a white picket fence, a neat garden and a doorbell. A large and round woman opened the door, revealing my new life.