DISCLAIMER: I am not J. K. Rowling, therefore I do not own any of the following canon world's elements (characters, etc.) I, however, own my own characters, some of the characterizations, plots, etc. Some of the ideas come from my roleplay group, from the past.


Prologue

"There are always scary things happening in the world. There are always wonderful things happening. And it's up to you to decide how you're going to approach the world…how you're going to live in it, and what you're going to do."

CountdownDeborah Wiles


Mr. and Mrs. Emerson of number eleven were proud to call themselves perfectly normal residents of Godric's Hollow. There was nothing odd about their life — they were, in fact, the last people to be involved in any kind of strange and mysterious acts. Their house was small, and cozy. Mrs. Emerson would always bake tasty apple pies, while Mr. Emerson would take care of the garden.

They cherished their peace for many, many years now. Or that was until the son of those Potters, that died in the fire such a long time ago, came back, fixed the house, and moved in next door.

Mr. Emerson of course told his wife at the very beginning it was not going to end well for their well being. For Mrs. Emerson, though, it took a year and one baby to understand her husband, was painfully right. They could, of course, manage a crying child, and mostly loud house that this particular one seemed to be. It was, after all, nothing they haven't seen before.

There was another thing that seemed completely out of hand. Like, for example, guests appearing out of nowhere, or owls arriving in the middle of the day in their windows. Mrs. Emerson could have sworn she saw Mrs. Potter in the kitchen with plates flying and washing themselves, and broom cleaning the floor without anyone even touching it. They still would smile, though, those Potters, they still would be nice, and invite them over for pies from time to time, politely accepting Mr. and Mrs. Emerson's refusal.

It didn't take a lot for them to understand the Potter family was far from average, and normal. It, however, took them a few years and three babies of their neighbors to finally accept the things they were. Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, of course, still couldn't quite put a finger on how to explain things happening in the house number twelve, but they would close an eye, and finally share a cake. Or two.

That was when Mr. and Mrs. Emerson started noticing things about the Potters they haven't really noticed before — or did, but refused to acknowledge it. They, for example, noticed the scar Mr. Potter had on his forehead, that was endlessly being a center of Mrs. Emerson's wonders. They noticed the strange tablet appearing from time to time on their wicket - mostly when strange people in strange clothes were paying them a visit. They noticed how Mrs. Potter would take a strange stick in her hand, and with one single move make the knife chop carrots by itself.

There were simply things they had seen, but never talked about.

It wasn't, of course, the only thing they paid attention to. Only the growth of children gave them indication of how fast they were growing old themselves. The eldest of them used to be such a cute baby - with his dark-brown, messed hair, and big chocolate-brown eyes. That was, of course, until he grew to be a cranky, little brat, climbing their fence and messing around their garden. The middle one had the most of his father — his green eyes, and black, messy hair, always polite and always helpful, cleaning up his brother's mess. The youngest one was a girl, the only one of the siblings to inherit her mother's features. Mrs. Emerson knew that seeing her ginger hair nearby always meant trouble.

They weren't, of course, the only ones Mr. and Mrs. Emerson acknowledged in those Potters' house. Guests for their neighbors were apparently a common thing, and with time, they started accepting the amount of people coming in, and coming out of the house next to them. Mr. and Mrs. Emerson could have sworn they had seen more children in the past ten years, than they had seen in their entire life.

They shouldn't have been surprised, though. From what Mr. and Mrs. Emerson could have noticed already, Mrs. Potter had an insane amount of brothers, and they had an insane amount of friends. Something, that neither Mr. or Mrs. Emerson had ever had in their lives.

They watched them grow, all of them. They watched them cry over crushed knee, they watched them make first friendships, and having an unbreakable family bond — something that particularly neither of Emersons ever quite understood. They watched them having big dinners, great moments, bad moments. They watched the eldest climbing trees with his ginger-haired cousin, and a freckled girl with lion hair. They watched the middle one read books with Mrs. Potter's brother's girl. They watched the youngest one playing hide and seek with her little, brown-haired cousin.

Then, they slowly started to disappear for long months, those kids that once were filling the garden with a childish chatter. They started growing up, maturing, changing their point of views, changing their minds, and things they liked. Never have Mr. and Mrs. Emerson ever would have thought they would miss it, miss them — the children that were never theirs, never normal, but, in fact, so close. They were used to them being there, and then, then they were simply gone.

It was strange to see the first girlfriend of the eldest, and then another one, and another one. It was strange to see his friends, and cousins, once little children, now so much grown, full of energy, fearless youth with the world wide open. It was strange to see them fighting, to see them involved around the things they have never before put any interest in. Future? Love? Family? Regret? Pain? Sorrow? Bliss? And the never-ending question — when did this all happen? When did all of them become so old?

Mr. and Mrs. Emerson of number eleven were proud to call themselves perfectly normal residents of Godric's Hollow. There was nothing odd about their life, and they cherished it. The peace, the harmony of everyday's life. There was nothing odd about their life... almost.


AUTHOR'S NOTESince it's a prologue, it needs a further explanation. Basically, this story is based on the best roleplay group I have ever been into, however many things (including some changes in looks, and plots and stuff like that) are going or were already changed. I only took an inspiration, and since it all ended months ago... Well, it of course won't be the same. Just a note, it'll mostly be from my own character's point of view (I usually write in third person), but don't worry, you'll be surprised. You'll see more in actual regular chapters. Aaaand, I hope you'll like it. See you soon, lovelies and leave me some reviews!

THIS IS NOT JAMES SIRIUS POTTER/FRED WEASLEY II PAIRING! Just wanted to add the characters, and since they will be mainly there, voila.