So this is my first HP fic,
What you need to know:
- I swear this won't be super cliche
- I swear it won't obsessively follow canon to a point where you might as well be reading the books (like sooooo many fics I have read do)
- I swear I will do my best to put as much originality and quality into this as possible - I've planned the whole plot and thought about it a lot and ngl I'm pretty excited.
- I swear the more reviews I get the quicker I'll post (I've already written a couple of chapters in advance and could post anytime
- I swear to take constructive criticism (how am I going to improve otherwise?) and not get butt-hurt by it - I encourage it actually.
Hope you enjoy it - preeettty please give meh some feedback
1
A fine, misty rain hung down over the rooftops and gardens of Little Whinging. The water coating all it touched with glistening beads of tiny droplets. The low clouds that grew thick overhead completely blocked the sunlight. It would be generous to call it a downpour; perhaps closer to a miserable fog, that inspired a coolness in the air quite unusual for early September.
It was on this day that one little girl sat gazing unseeingly out of an upstairs window of Number 4 Privet Drive. It was this day that this little girl knew for a fact would be the worst one she'd ever have.
Olympia Potter sat, slouched, as her fingers lazily traced irregular patterns into the condensation that clouded the frosty glass.
Her heart had been growing tense over the past days. Tighter and tighter as the time grew closer and closer, until it was left now as a suffocating ball lodged cancerously in her throat, so big she was unsure how she was able to breathe around it.
How was she going to do it? How was she ever going to get through a whole year by herself?
Alone.
The word echoed painfully through her whole body and she gave a shiver.
She didn't want him to leave. Every fibre in her body begged him to stay with her. But those fibres - she knew - were selfish and childish.
Harry, had of corse, offered to stay behind almost every minute of the whole summer. In fact, when Hagrid had first explained to them both that they were magical and that he could go to a school for Wizards, he had flat out denied.
It had been her own convincing that had helped him reach the decision to go. If it wasn't for her insisting that she was going to be fine and that he was being ridiculous, this day would never have come.
The door creaked open and she hastily wiped a tear from her cheek before turning around sharply to see her brother standing sadly in the doorway.
"Hey Harry." She greeted brightly, perhaps too brightly.
Harry frowned, "Are you okay, Mia?" He asked, his eyes narrowing in the typical scrutinising big-brother-Harry fashion. He'd been avidly searching for a sign that she wasn't okay the whole summer, Mia was just as determinedly not giving him one.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Even she knew it wasn't convincing; he had caught her off guard and it was hard to act when she was speaking round a huge lump in her throat.
Harry's face fell sadly and he moved smoothly to wrap her in a hug.
Mia buried her face into his woolen-clad chest, trying valiantly to hide the tears that were rolling uncontrollably from her eyes. Damn, she had been doing so well until then.
"I'm not going to go." He said firmly.
Mia rolled her eyes; he had been saying that if his sister so much as looked downward. Any sign that she wasn't okay with him leaving he'd change his mind again.
She took a big breath and pulled away so he could see her face. "Your train leaves in a couple hours. I think it's a bit late to be a chicken about it," She feigned a smirk. "I'll be fine."
"Your crying." He argued.
"Yeah. Am I not aloud to be sad about you leaving?" She asked, wiping her eyes with a hiccup, "I still want you to go though."
He didn't crack a smile, "It's your last chance Mia, are you sure you're going to be okay?"
Mia huffed tiredly, "For the last time Harry, I'm a big girl now." Please don't go, "Besides, it might actually be fun finally not having my annoying big brother around, maybe I'll make some more friends now I don't have you tagging along." She joked, it didn't reach her eyes.
He didn't buy it. His gaze lingered over her worriedly, "Olly?"
Mia grimaced, "Don't call me that."
She shuffled uncomfortably under the penetrative scrutiny of his stare.
He watched her a moment longer, his eyes darting over every inch of her, hunting for any cracks she may have in her mask.
She seemed to pass some test because his face softened and he ruffled her hair. She swatted his hand away indignantly.
The truth was, Mia didn't have many friends. And she wasn't going to be okay. How could she possibly be okay left with the Dursely's alone for an entire year? Olympia was ten. She'd have to wait until next summer for him to come back and they could both leave the Dursley's together to go to the school of magic - Hogwarts.
If I even am magic that is.
The betraying words had been reverberating around her brain the whole summer. She pushed them aside like she always did. She couldn't afford to think about what would happen if Harry was gone and she had to stay at Privet Drive for seven years.
The day Hagrid had come and found them to give Harry his letter was one of the best she'd ever had. He had saved them, and for a few moments she'd let that hope carry her. They would finally leave the Dursley's! Only for it to be thrown in her face when he'd said he was sorry but they only let in eleven year olds.
She'd been secretly heartbroken for days - not that she'd let Harry know that.
She had liked Hagrid, and she'd liked him even more after the shopping trip for Harry's school stuff. Diagon Alley had blown her away. She had never been more happy in her life, seeing the world she'd be a part of next year. She had even been able to buy Harry the best birthday present she'd ever given him: she had taken advice from Hagrid to buy him a real life owl. The huge man had told her that students at Hogwart's could keep pets - but that owls were useful for sending letters. Her heart had lit up knowing there would be a way to talk to her brother so it was an easy decision. Hedwig - Harry had later named her - was the most beautiful bird she had ever seen and she had picked it almost immediately out of all of the other pets.
Of corse, she couldn't help being jealous of her brother, seeing all of the new, amazing, magical things he had gotten. But ultimately she was happy for him, and that's why she had convinced him to go. She just had a bit of convincing herself to do.
"Come on then, if you're such a big girl you can help me bring all my stuff down to the car." He grinned.
Mia stuck her tongue out at him, "Prat."
"Twerp."
Mia quickly dodged to avoid another noogie.
"Rock, paper, scissors?" She suggested, nodding her head at the lighter pile that needed carrying down.
Harry grinned at the game they'd played since Mia could remember.
I'm going to miss you.
They threw their fists three times.
Mia burst into giggles. Harry didn't realise, but he always picked rock, so Mia always went for paper.
Harry puffed, "How're you always so good at that game?"
She shrugged innocently and pounced victoriously to the lighter pile.
Both Potters were cursed with being short for their age and weedily-framed. It took a couple rounds up and down the stairs each before they got all of Harry's stuff to the driveway.
They were by the front door catching their breath when Uncle Vernon marched past - nearly knocking Mia into a perfectly pruned (by Harry) hedge of roses.
"Boy! Say goodbye to your idiot sister quickly if you still expect me to drive you all the way to London. Can't be long, Petunia has invited the Polkiss' for lunch."
Mia had to force herself to look up at Harry, her eyes prickling painfully. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying again.
They looked awkwardly at each other. How did you say goodbye to the one person you'd seen every day for your entire life? How did you say goodbye to your family? How did you say goodbye to your best and only friend in the world?
After a few moments of silent foot shuffling and fidgeting, Mia let out a choked cough, "I, um... I want you to have this."
Her fingers fumbled to reach into her jean pocket. Her palm opened clumsily to reveal a cool, smooth, black, misshapen-stone. Its smooth surface was carved intricately, laced with silver swirling patterns.
Harry's eyes lit up in recognition, "Wow, did you polish it?" He asked.
"Mm, hmm," she hummed, "And I drilled a small hole so you can wear it around your neck." She added, revealing the tattered old leather string she had thread through the hole.
It was a gift Harry had watched Hagrid give her the day they went to Diagon Alley. The huge man had obviously noticed the younger Potter growing a little upset at all the new stuff Harry was getting and took pity on her. He had told her he'd bought something with him for her and had fumbled around randomly in his giant pockets for anything to give her. He'd eventually pulled out the stone (which had been grey and faded at the time) and knelt to her height. "Now yeh'd better be careful with 'is one, Mia. Is' a special stone, meant fer protection an' the sor'."
Mia had kept it by her side ever since.
Harry shook his head, "...Mia, I can't take this..."
"I want you to have it." She said insisted, putting it in his hand and forcefully closing his fingers around it, "So I know you're okay." She added quietly.
Harry looked as though he was going to put up a fight, but, slowly, he tightened his fingers into a fist around the stone and smiled sadly, "Thanks Mia… I- I love it. But you don't have to worry about me."
He would notice later that carved into the back of the stone was a haggardly scratched 'PRAT' in huge letters, but he needn't know that now.
Mia wrapped her small arms around her big brother, hugging him fiercely, "And you don't have to worry about me."
It was worse than she could have imagined.
Harry's loss hit Mia hard in the months that followed. She couldn't ever have imagined how much she would miss him.
He wasn't there to snuggle up to when it was cold in their cupboard. There was no one to ask her what she'd done at school that day.
There was no one who cared.
The only plus side was that Dudley was boarding at Smeltings, meaning he wasn't around the house or at the same school as her. Which was just as well because she didn't have Harry to protect her from him anymore.
School was even more miserable than she remembered it. She had started the year having a real effort at making friends, never having had many in the past. That ended in disaster.
The truth was, she had no idea how to speak to people unless that person was Harry. There wasn't anyone to ask how people made friends.
She would watch a group of girls all laughing and gossiping and wonder how they did it. What did they talk to each other about? Maybe they didn't talk to her because she wore ugly clothes? Or was it because she looked different.
It was true that Mia wasn't exactly 'normal' looking. All the girls chatting to each other were all tall, straight-haired blondes or brunettes with normal plain faces. Mia was very short and petite for her age. She had long, frizzy, and wavy deep red hair that couldn't even be classed as ginger. Freckles and dark eyebrows stood out from an unusually pale face. Yet, the most striking thing about her was her bright emerald-green eyes. They were the only thing she really shared with Harry looks-wise.
Add that to third-hand clothes that completely swallowed her up and she stuck out like a sore thumb. A very lame, lonely sore thumb.
It was one day in late October, she was hurriedly doing some last minute ironing before school when her Aunt grabbed her by the arm and forcefully spun her around. She was pulled so harshly that her grip on the iron slipped and it fell face-down onto her forearm with a sizzling hiss.
An agonised howl tore from her mouth, her arm jerked away from the searing metal.
Petunia looked a little shocked at the series of events she'd just invoked, but visibly tried to maintain her angry tirade. "You idiot girl! You shrunk my favourite floral blouse!" She yelled, wildly waving a blouse inches from Mia's face, "I only have two left now. Now I know you're not a smart girl but are you truly so brainless you don't even know how to put on a wash!?"
Mia blinked away tears of pain as she stared into the red face of her furious aunt. In shock and cradling her searing hand she stuttered, "I - I'm ss-sorry Aunt Petunia."
Her Aunt's face softened a fraction when she glanced quickly down at her assaulted limb.
Mia didn't have time to blink before the floral garment was thrown at her face.
"Keep it you rat. Now get out of my face you stupid child." She demanded.
Mia scrambled to turn off the iron and hurried to her cupboard.
She couldn't believe it.
She stared in awe at the piece of light fabric in the dim light that hung from the musty, low ceiling. It was a frilly garment ridden with orange flowers on a fluorescent yellow base. Rhinestones lined the neckline right through the middle of the shirt and it cut off with a laced trim.
It wasn't some ripped, oversized hand-me-down shirt.
It was girly, it would fit her, and it was hers.
A grin erupted from her face.
She tore off the outfit she was wearing and threw on the shirt. Scrambling to get into her nicest trousers (they were actually denim shorts on Dudley but they had a tight drawstring and no rips) she hurried to the bathroom and stood on top the toilet seat.
She wasn't quite tall enough to be able to see her whole body in the mirror but she saw enough. Admittedly, the orange and yellow didn't quite go with her flaming hair but she didn't let that deter her.
She actually felt like a girl.
She brushed her waist-length hair as best she could and carefully tied it into the tidiest plait she'd ever managed to do. Nothing could wipe the smile from her face.
So excited was she that she forgot about her throbbing, injured forearm that needed tending until she was almost going to be late for school.
Running back into the house as quickly as she could, she ripped off a piece of the Aloe plant in the kitchen and got into the car just before her uncle threatened he would leave without her.
His usual angry tirade of what a waste of space she was fell upon deaf ears. Nothing could make her upset today, she thought as she rubbed the Aloe gel onto her burn. Today would be the day she'd finally fit in with the girls. Today I'm finally going to make a friend.
As she approached her classroom, her good spirits had been tampered down to a biting nervousness that ate its way through her stomach.
Walking through the doorway she took in a shaky breath, looking at all of her chatting classmates sitting in their various cliques.
Slowly, she made her way to her usual desk nearer the back of the room, trying to keep her back straight and her head high.
People started to surreptitiously nudge their friends and heads turned to look at her.
Mia tried to keep the blush away from her cheeks. She wasn't used to being the centre of attention and she couldn't say she liked it, but she knew it would help her to make friends if she wasn't a blur in the background. All of the popular girls always got attention. She already knew they would stare anyway - the blouse was so different to the usual rags she wore.
However, as the day wore on, no one came up to speak to her. Nor did any newfound courage come with the new outfit to get up and go speak to anyone herself.
She could feel distress and anxiety well up inside her. If they didn't even like her when she looked normal, maybe she just wasn't likeable at all. Maybe it was simply her.
Her breathing grew harsh and fast.
She couldn't change who she was; she didn't know how!
What if she never made a friend. Harry was so popular.
What if she grew up and Harry would leave her to be with his friends, she'd be left alone with the Dursley's for the rest of her life.
A sudden nauseous feeling surged within her and she swayed on her feet.
The room started tunneling and spinning, the chatter in the dining hall amplifying. Her breath caught in her throat.
Mechanically, the ten year old got up from her chair in the cafeteria and walked to the nearest bathroom.
To her relief, she wasn't actually sick. She just sat on the toilet seat of a locked cubicle and stared at the door. She didn't cry, her thoughts were running too fast to even think to cry.
Her heart was in her throat and pounded painfully. Her arms and legs were dead weights.
What if I never leave Privet Drive.
What if I'm not magical and I have to grow up with these girls.
What if Harry finds out I have no friends and is disappointed in me.
What if Harry is so popular at Hogwarts he won't think I'm cool enough to hang out with.
It was true that Harry hadn't sent her any letters since he had left. It was late November and she had heard nothing from him. She didn't dare think too much as to why that was. It could just be that perhaps owls weren't -despite what Hagrid told her - meant to send letters. Or maybe students at Hogwarts couldn't send letters. Harry couldn't have just forgotten her, could he? Maybe he was just really busy. But he promised...
So lost in thought, Mia jumped as the door to the bathroom swung open and admitted a group of giggling girls. She stayed silent in her cubicle.
"Oh my God, do you think it'll stain?" An annoyed voice stressed.
"Henry is honestly so annoying. Why does he think its so funny to throw food at girls every single bloody day!" Another voice complained.
Mia recognised the voices as two of the girls in her class, Henry was a boy in their year group too.
"My mum says it's a way of boy's flirting." A third voice helped.
"Ew. Gross."
"Well it's not working." The first one said irritably, "Gah! If this doesn't come off my mum's going to kill me."
"I don't know." The second said thoughtfully. "Maybe if you add a bit more ketchup there… some mustard there… then maybe smear a bit of poo all over it, it might look just as nice as Olympia's new shirt."
Mia's blood froze.
The two girls burst into laughter.
"Oh my God! What was that girl thinking?! I wasn't going to mention it, but oh my God." One said between fits of giggles.
"My grandma has better style, and she's spent the last five years ten feet underground!"
Mia's lip started trembling. A knife was sliding down her throat and slowly tearing into her heart. Her brain had turned to ice and her vision swam. Tears rapidly cascaded down her cheeks as she hugged her legs towards her, huddled tightly in a ball on the cubicle floor.
"To be fair, I don't think she can help it." The third girl chipped, "I heard she's an orphan; with no mum and only that strange boy in the year above as a brother she probably doesn't know any better."
"Well thank God I've got a mother then. I'd rather drop dead then wear what she does; those rags make me want to gag. Mind you, I think I prefer them to that top today."
"Aw, I do feel bad for her. Maybe I'll ask Daddy to give some more money to an orphan charity this year."
"I think she'd probably still dress the same if she wasn't an orphan. I heard her parents died because they were drunks and crashed their car - they probably wore the same bin bags their daughter wears now."
Something inside Mia snapped.
A fire rushed down her arms and into her fingertips. The next thing she heard was a deafening roar. Metal tore and a harsh spray of water burst from the sink pipes that snaked around the whole of the girls bathroom.
Three high-pitched screams were literally drowned out as water blasted out from different cracks in the pipes, immediately flooding the floor.
The fire-sprinkler also erupted, instantly soaking Mia.
The ten year old couldn't find it in her to care about the sensation of being wet.
She couldn't even find it in her to be happy about her first bout of accidental magic - solid proof that she was a witch.
She found herself unable to think of anything as her mind was totally numb. On stiff feet she rose and opened the door to the cubicle - the girls having long left the room.
Her clothes sodden and heavy, she ran. She didn't stop, didn't think until her feet had carried her home. She didn't notice her Aunt's surprise at her being home early, and then her screeches at being so wet indoors.
She didn't stop until she was locked in her brothers room, curled up on his bed and clinging tightly to one of his oldest, threadbare jumpers.
As her crying slowed down, as her sobs evened, as her clothes dried, hours ticked by and her gaze never strayed from the small window. She had never wished more to see her brothers snowy owl appear. She'd give anything to see his scrawled handwriting telling her about his day.
Today. If he was ever going to send a letter it would have to be today.
The sun set and darkness came and there was still no owl. Eventually, her raw, leaden eyes fell shut.
Happy Birthday to me.
Was the last thought she had before she drifted off to oblivion.
Please review!
Thank you so much!