A/N: All right, I know there are about a trillion 'second generation' fics
out there, but this one actually has a plot! I'm going to tell you right
now who married whom (includes some original characters), and who their
kids are, to avoid any confusion.
Harry and Ginny: Michael (13, 3rd Year), Norah (11, 1st Year)
Ron and Hermione: Marcus (15, 5th Year), William (13, 3rd Year), Becky (11, 1st Year)
Percy and Penelope: Christina (16, 6th year)
Draco and Alexia: Dominic (11, 1st Year)
There will be other characters involved who aren't descended from one of the main characters. Now, on with the story! :)
~
A Shadow Rising
Chapter 1: The Letter
"Norah! Wake up!"
Norah groaned and rolled out of bed.
"Come on! Your breakfast is getting cold!" the voice of her mother drifted up to her from the kitchen downstairs.
She pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of trousers, and turned to look in her full length mirror. She frowned. "What a bloody mess..." she muttered to herself. She ran a hand through her thick, currently messy black hair in a feeble attempt to neaten it a bit. She shrugged, and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Oh, there you are!" Her father looked up from reading the paper. "We all thought you'd gone and died or something. You haven't died, have you?"
"Harry!" his wife rapped him sharply over the head with a wooden spoon.
"Ow!" he rubbed his head and grinned. "What's the matter, Norah? I was only joking."
"It's not that," she slumped into a chair and crossed her arms. "My letter still hasn't come. My letter is NEVER going to come!"
"Don't be a prat," her older brother said between bites of toast.
"Michael," his father said sternly. "Don't call your sister that. It's not nice."
"Exactly," Michael grinned. Norah made a face at him.
"Anyway, Norah," her father was saying, "I wouldn't worry about getting that letter, if I were you. Because I've got it right here."
"You do?! Really?! Let me have it, give it here!"
He laughed and produced an envelope from the pocket of his robes. "Here you go," he handed it to her, and she ripped it open.
"Dear Miss Potter," she read aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" she squealed in excitement.
Michael rolled his eyes. "What? You knew you were going to get in anyway."
"Oh shut up, Michael," she glared at him.
"Ginny," her father called to her mother, "have you responded to Ron's letter yet?"
Norah's head snapped up. "Letter? Uncle Ron sent a letter and you never told me? Are we going to visit them, then? Ohh, please say we are! Please Dad, please! That'd be so great! I haven't seen Becky in... In forever! And we could all get on the train together and everything!" she exclaimed.
He laughed. "Yes, we're going to visit them, in a week, in fact."
"But what about Quidditch?" Michael asked.
"What about Quidditch?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Well I've got to practice if I want to make the team this year," Michael said. "And Marc and Will don't have anywhere to practice on."
"You've been practicing all summer, Michael!" his mother exclaimed. "It's not going to kill you if you go without Quidditch for a week, you know."
Michael muttered something and stared at his toast.
"Don't mind your brother, Norah," Ginny said, coming over to collect their plates. "He's thirteen. He's at a very awkward stage right now."
"I resent that," Michael said, looking up.
"I agree with Mum completely," Norah grinned. "Besides, Michael, it's not like you've got to be a champion seeker like Dad or anything."
"I know that!" Michael frowned at her. "I'm not going for seeker anyway, I'm going for keeper."
"I still don't understand why you had to retire so early, Dad," Norah was saying, ignoring her brother.
"You know why I retired," her father replied. "When I first got into it I only meant to play for a couple of seasons. I ended up playing for five. And I'm quite happy to be done with it now. Professional Quidditch is hard work."
"Obviously," Michael said.
"Michael Potter, you're very negative this morning," Norah said.
"Shut up," her brother countered. "I bet you're going to get sorted into Slytherin."
"Michael, don't insult your sister!" his mother scolded.
"Well at least I'm not a Death Eater!" Norah glared at her brother.
"Norah!" her father glanced at her warningly.
"What?" she said. "I'm just saying he's a follower of You - Know - Who. Yes, Michael enjoys serving his evil, stupid, ugly, insane master who hasn't been seen in thirty years -"
"Norah, that's quite enough out of you!" her mother exclaimed. "Now go to your room! I want you to think about why it's wrong to joke about people who nearly killed many of your family and friends, and why it's wrong to call your brother one of those people."
Norah stomped up the stairs as her brother laughed, and slammed her bedroom door. "Bloody unfair..." she muttered.
She glanced up at herself in the mirror and ran her hands through her hair, trying to flatten it. It sprang back up again. She wished she had red hair like her mother. Black was so boring. She was day dreaming about having different hair, when there was a loud 'thump' from down the hall in her parent's room.
She opened the door a crack and peeked in, then opened it wide. "Marcus Weasley?" she said, eyeing the red headed boy who was standing before her. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Sorry," he said, looking more than a little ruffled. "I came here by floo powder. Look, I really need to talk to your parents. Where are they?"
"Downstairs," Norah replied. "Why?"
But he was already out the door and skipping steps down to the kitchen. Something terribly important must have happened.
Harry and Ginny: Michael (13, 3rd Year), Norah (11, 1st Year)
Ron and Hermione: Marcus (15, 5th Year), William (13, 3rd Year), Becky (11, 1st Year)
Percy and Penelope: Christina (16, 6th year)
Draco and Alexia: Dominic (11, 1st Year)
There will be other characters involved who aren't descended from one of the main characters. Now, on with the story! :)
~
A Shadow Rising
Chapter 1: The Letter
"Norah! Wake up!"
Norah groaned and rolled out of bed.
"Come on! Your breakfast is getting cold!" the voice of her mother drifted up to her from the kitchen downstairs.
She pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of trousers, and turned to look in her full length mirror. She frowned. "What a bloody mess..." she muttered to herself. She ran a hand through her thick, currently messy black hair in a feeble attempt to neaten it a bit. She shrugged, and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Oh, there you are!" Her father looked up from reading the paper. "We all thought you'd gone and died or something. You haven't died, have you?"
"Harry!" his wife rapped him sharply over the head with a wooden spoon.
"Ow!" he rubbed his head and grinned. "What's the matter, Norah? I was only joking."
"It's not that," she slumped into a chair and crossed her arms. "My letter still hasn't come. My letter is NEVER going to come!"
"Don't be a prat," her older brother said between bites of toast.
"Michael," his father said sternly. "Don't call your sister that. It's not nice."
"Exactly," Michael grinned. Norah made a face at him.
"Anyway, Norah," her father was saying, "I wouldn't worry about getting that letter, if I were you. Because I've got it right here."
"You do?! Really?! Let me have it, give it here!"
He laughed and produced an envelope from the pocket of his robes. "Here you go," he handed it to her, and she ripped it open.
"Dear Miss Potter," she read aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" she squealed in excitement.
Michael rolled his eyes. "What? You knew you were going to get in anyway."
"Oh shut up, Michael," she glared at him.
"Ginny," her father called to her mother, "have you responded to Ron's letter yet?"
Norah's head snapped up. "Letter? Uncle Ron sent a letter and you never told me? Are we going to visit them, then? Ohh, please say we are! Please Dad, please! That'd be so great! I haven't seen Becky in... In forever! And we could all get on the train together and everything!" she exclaimed.
He laughed. "Yes, we're going to visit them, in a week, in fact."
"But what about Quidditch?" Michael asked.
"What about Quidditch?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Well I've got to practice if I want to make the team this year," Michael said. "And Marc and Will don't have anywhere to practice on."
"You've been practicing all summer, Michael!" his mother exclaimed. "It's not going to kill you if you go without Quidditch for a week, you know."
Michael muttered something and stared at his toast.
"Don't mind your brother, Norah," Ginny said, coming over to collect their plates. "He's thirteen. He's at a very awkward stage right now."
"I resent that," Michael said, looking up.
"I agree with Mum completely," Norah grinned. "Besides, Michael, it's not like you've got to be a champion seeker like Dad or anything."
"I know that!" Michael frowned at her. "I'm not going for seeker anyway, I'm going for keeper."
"I still don't understand why you had to retire so early, Dad," Norah was saying, ignoring her brother.
"You know why I retired," her father replied. "When I first got into it I only meant to play for a couple of seasons. I ended up playing for five. And I'm quite happy to be done with it now. Professional Quidditch is hard work."
"Obviously," Michael said.
"Michael Potter, you're very negative this morning," Norah said.
"Shut up," her brother countered. "I bet you're going to get sorted into Slytherin."
"Michael, don't insult your sister!" his mother scolded.
"Well at least I'm not a Death Eater!" Norah glared at her brother.
"Norah!" her father glanced at her warningly.
"What?" she said. "I'm just saying he's a follower of You - Know - Who. Yes, Michael enjoys serving his evil, stupid, ugly, insane master who hasn't been seen in thirty years -"
"Norah, that's quite enough out of you!" her mother exclaimed. "Now go to your room! I want you to think about why it's wrong to joke about people who nearly killed many of your family and friends, and why it's wrong to call your brother one of those people."
Norah stomped up the stairs as her brother laughed, and slammed her bedroom door. "Bloody unfair..." she muttered.
She glanced up at herself in the mirror and ran her hands through her hair, trying to flatten it. It sprang back up again. She wished she had red hair like her mother. Black was so boring. She was day dreaming about having different hair, when there was a loud 'thump' from down the hall in her parent's room.
She opened the door a crack and peeked in, then opened it wide. "Marcus Weasley?" she said, eyeing the red headed boy who was standing before her. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Sorry," he said, looking more than a little ruffled. "I came here by floo powder. Look, I really need to talk to your parents. Where are they?"
"Downstairs," Norah replied. "Why?"
But he was already out the door and skipping steps down to the kitchen. Something terribly important must have happened.