Twisted Logic

A/N: Thanks for clicking on this story! This is my second story so far, as well as being a concept I've been wanting to write on for a while. I do recommemd my other story, The Other One, if your interested in that topic. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!

-ODT


Chapter One: A Rather Peculiar State of Being


To be quite honest, I don't remember my death in vivid detail.

I only remember a grand fall, and the blood that stained my cheeks long after.

But I do remember my identity.

I was the lieutenant of Voldemort, and I was one of the most powerful wizards of my time.

And I was married to another one of his powerful supporters, Rodolphus, a man whom I didn't love but tolerated.

But after those tidbits of memory, every thing else was a blank slate that no amount of digging would unearth.

1

Being reborn was actually a rather peculiar feeling.

It was like waking up, in a body that was not your own.

I am ashamed to say that I reacted to this change in the worst way possible for a grown woman as intelligent as my upbringing suggested; I begin to wail, as if I were a newborn baby.

Which, maybe I was.

The cooing of a voice, decidedly female was the first to attempt to calm me down.

Lifting me up from the cushiony object in which I had lay, the women begin to rock me from side to side, kissing and cooing, making noises that in my former state would have made me curse her.

She reeked of blood and sweat, a combination that made my sensitive baby nose pucker in disgust.

"Shh..Shh.. Shhh..."

It whispered, and despite my misgivings I found that the words were convincing, and I surrendered to the pull of sleep.

2

I later found that the woman possessed red hair, pale cheeks that were covered in a light layer of freckles, and a smile that made my heart melt.

But for now, her voice, the softness of her skin were the only thing I could record in my brain for later use.

A man, his face invisible to my eyes, had come to stand beside her since I'd woken, and whispered to her of how beautiful I was, how much I looked like her.

I didn't quite know what my appearance was but I knew if I was a baby I was actually quite ugly, despite this man's countering belief.

I'd never liked babies, and the fact that I was one now was enough to elicit an emotion,; anger, which was obviously too much for my weak baby-body to sustain as sobs begin to bubble from my lips.

"Shhh... Shhh..." the woman attempted to calm me.

I only wailed louder, almost enjoying my newfound power over this concerned couple.

The man stepped closer to the woman, pushing her back with the slightest of touches and taking my body into his arms, rocking me back and forth in an awkward way that suggested him not being used to dealing with babies.

"Little moon, quiet down so your mommy can sleep." he murmured the words.

My blood froze as the voice leaked into my ears.

It was familiar, but in the worst of ways.

Harry Potter

My father was my master's most formidable enemy?

This couldn't be happening.

The blank slates in my memory didn't document my master's death, nor did they quite document his.

So could this... This boy have won the final battle?

Yes, obviously, for he was a boy no longer. Now he had children, me being one of them.

Me being sent back had obviously been a twist of fate.

A chance to undermine my master's greatest enemy.

But how are you so sure this is him?

All I had for evidence were the pitiful baby-ears that came with this form.

A scoff bubbled from my lips at this thought.

"Now Lilly dear, get some rest."

The words were directed towards me by my new father, and I was quick to accept these words.

Lilly was my new name, my new identity.

I had to admit, it wasn't as quant as the name Bellatrix has been, in fact it was quite simple beside it.

But that didn't matter.

I shut my eyes and allowed the next big adventure, sleep to overtake me.

4

"This is her, mum?"

"Yes Albus dear. This is Lilly."

"Who else could it be, Albus dear?" retorted an unfamiliar voice.

"Shut up!"

Month after month had passed of my life with the Potter's, and soon I was slowly learning to walk, stumbling a little on my tiny feet as my parents encouraged me in the background.

I fell, quite a bit in the course of learning this one skill, but I was stubborn in learning it, forlearning to walk meant I would no longer be dependent on my parents carrying me everywhere, or me crawling as fast as I could.

It would mean that I could be truly, and absolutely independent.

"Quiet, now boys," Ginny, or mother as she insisted on being called addressed the others in the background. "she's probably asleep."

I blinked sleepily as my eyes adjusted to the dim light the lamp beside the cradle I slept in lit.

Stretching idly, I peered in the direction the voice had come from.

Two boys, my brothers stood there, completely opposite in both height and appearance.

But they both shared a look of mutual shyness as they peered at me, their sister they'd only ever heard about in the letters our parents sent.

I gazed back at the two of them, mirroring their interest.

I'd never actually seen these brother of mine up close, only ever heard the praise both of my parents heaped upon him in loads, Harry- I mean my father especially.

The taller boy stepped forward, taking my tiny hand between his own larger hands with a tenderness that surprised me.

"Hey Lilly," he spoke up softly. "I'm your older brother, James. I'm sorry I haven't seen you a lot. I'm at elementary school now, y'know."

"and.. and.. I'm Albus." stuttered out the younger boy, stepping forward to take my other hand.

I allowed an affectionate coo to bubble from lips as well as a toothless smile, for I was unable to fight the sisterly love I felt for these two boys.

As our parents giggled in the background, the boys proceeded to tell me about their time at Hogwarts, Albus animatedly describing the sights and smells while James focused on the many pranks he had committed, but my mind only half stayed on their words.

Another, darker part of my mind focused on my loyalty to the dark lord.

Are you really getting close to the them, it asked vehemently, knowing that you'll have to kill them sooner or later?

But in reality, having a family as tight knit as this one sent a thrill up my spine in knowing that they loved me, despite not knowing my personality or the fact that I wasn't a guy as my family had prefered.

But part of me also couldn't help but wonder whether knowing my true identity would twist the love they seemed to share for me into some mutual hatred.

And the probable answer was of course a definite yes.

5

I later learned the reason the boys were down here was because it was winter break, and they were just in time for what I later learned to be called Christmas.

Of course, I was aware of the holiday, but my family had refused to celebrate it despite Druella, Andromeda and I's pleas.

"It was a Muggle holiday," my father commonly said about it, "and no pure breed person of any creed or self respect should celebrate it."

"Unless of course," he'd pause to lean in conspiringly, as of he were about to give away a secret, "they're Blood Traitors, which we most certainly are not."

So part of me was curious on this holiday, though another part of me was disgusted by it.

So the morning of Christmas was spent with my brothers tearing open presents as I watched, contently perched upon Papa's knee.

"Harry, look at her," Mother giggled in the background whenever she has a moment too come out of the kitchen. "she's like a little adult."

Those words, for some reason, were enough to elicit an entirely unadultlike chortle that brought the whole household to its knees in laughter.

This later became my favorite holiday, for the smiles and smells from the kitchen it brought with it, as well as the easy hugs and kisses our many relatives gave to me.

"This is our little Lilly?" my grandmother asked, lifting me into her arms as easily as if I were nothing more then a feather.

At first, I felt nothing other then anger as I stared at my former selfs killer, but Molly Weasly was just so easy to love, so easy to trust.

And she wasn't the only person I felt this for.

Out of my two parents, I had grown to realize I preferred my father to my mother.

He was the one who had adult conversations with me, while my mother only babied me.

He was the one would wipe my tears away, and tell me to be a big girl.

And around him, that I was.


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