Okay. You got me. I decided to go ahead with the sequel for "Daisies." Now, don't turn away if you haven't read "Daisies." You don't need to. This story refers to the past, but it's nothing you can't understand without reading the first story. For a couple warnings, it's slightly AU, but it won't really disrupt JK Rowling's wonderful, wonderful books. And, for reader's of "Daisies," this is an almost entirely different story. Alright. Here you go. Sorry for the dreadfully long A/N. Oh! And. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in Harry Potter.
Chapter One.
The Letter
To the relations of Elizabeth Cavenhaugh,
It is with the deepest regret that I inform you of your sister's death. She was a brilliant witch and a great friend.
On this night, 7 August, 1978, a group of no less than five Death Eaters overtook her. She entrusted me with her only child, so that she may find her way into your, I am sure, loving care.
Unfortunately, there is very little I know about the child, but I will reveal to you the one fact Elizabeth confirmed true. The child's paternity lies in one Sirius Black. I am sorry to say that I know nothing of his whereabouts, her name, nor her date of birth. I can only deliver her to you as Elizabeth wished and hope that she can fill up a portion of the hole Bitty's death leaves you with.
My condolences and most passionate sorrow go out to you in this tragic event.
S.S.
That night, Christopher had gone to the door to find a baby clutching a raven brooch, a letter bearing a grief-filled note, and a daisy filled with his sister's ghost. It had taken him a minute to register the content of the letter, but when he did, he had run to the edge of the garden in search of "S.S."
His search was in vain, but he'd known as he looked up and down the nighttime street that it was useless as he was doing it. The world of magic was a mystery to him. The only connection to it that he possessed was a witch for a sister, and now she was...dead.
As his eyes had searched the streets, they'd come upon a glimmer of green light in the sky. Mistaking it for a trick of his mind for a second, he'd overlooked it. But his eyes had wandered back to the clear stretch sky where the light danced.
A skull. A skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. Grotesque. Unnatural. Mocking of his pain.
He wondered, did it have anything to do with Elizabeth?
He'd almost let his feet take him to the spot it marked (like the neighbors were beginning to do), but his sister's baby made a noise, a soft coo. Completely oblivious to the dark fate that had just enveloped her life that very same night, she cooed contentedly. Such a blessing it was she hadn't realized the pain because it pulled Christopher back from being the one to discover the body. Grace had stopped him from finding his beloved sister grossly positioned in the middle of the street, stopped him from swooning at her feet, prevented him from a life driven by grief, blessed him with the care of the Swansons to sort her out and deliver her with a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in her hands.
At the coo of his tiny niece, Christopher had turned back and cradled her in his arms. And there he stayed until Mr. and Mrs. Swanson came carrying Elizabeth Cavenhaugh on a white sheet, with her curls falling over the edges and her deathly white hands clasping chrysanthemums an even purer, more ghostly shade of pearl. Mrs. Swanson had made all the phone calls and had answered all of Michael's questions, leaving Christopher to mull over his grief with his sister's daughter in his careful embrace.
A/N: Hope it was satisfactory,
A.L.L.