This is my first fanfiction so I really hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism would be very much appreciated because it's the only way you can really see what you're doing wrong and improve. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I am not JKR so I do not own anything! Actually that's really lucky because I doubt I would have made anywhere near as good a job of the books as she did.
Before the Begining
The house was enveloped in a thick silence. It seeped into every space and through every doorway like poisoned honey. Nothing was moving. The shape on the floor wasn't moving. It simply lay, a huddled mass on the ground.
Something shifted subtly as, upstairs, something stirred. A little girl, a girl who was surly much too young for all of this, crawled out from under a bed. She was tiny, her delicate skin was china white, contrasting greatly from her dark hair. She got to get feet and crept towards the door. She moved through the house soundlessly, as if she was used to staying silent. She stopped when she reached the living room, her pale shape shone in the doorway. She stood very still, her little hand in her mouth, staring uncertainly at the shape on the floor. After what seemed like an age she moved forwards, closing the door behind her, shutting out the rest of the house.
"Daddy?" She asked quietly. He didn't reply. He couldn't. The little girl he, she kneeled down beside his broken form. "Daddy" she said again, more insistently this time. Her voice rang like a knife through the house. She looked down at her ruined father, she peered into his unseeing eyes.
"Wake up. Daddy wake up." There was a hint of pleading in her voice now. He didn't wake, of course he didn't. The girl's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, then she got up and pulled a thin blanket of the sofa. She covered the body of her father in it as carefully as her two-year-old hands would allow, tucking it right up to his chin like he always did for her.
"Good night" she said quietly. And she didn't move, she just sat next to the body. She didn't cry, she knew he was only sleeping. He would wake up when he wasn't so very tired anymore. The girl stayed there, motionless, for hours. Shadows lengthened and gradually she became hungry, her daddy would feed her when he woke up. He wouldn't leave her, he loved her. He had told her so.
Something was in the hall, someone was moving, walking towards where they were. The child didn't move, her steady grey eyes fixed on the door, waiting. She heard a voice, someone calling. She heard quiet muttering, there was more than one of them. And still she sat up straight and silent beside her father, like a proud tombstone. As she watched the door open, a faint purple light seemed to flash across both her eyes. She stood up. The frame of a witch appeared through the door. She had come back. The little girl gripped her fathers hand tightly. It was cold, so cold. The woman caught sight of them, she swayed slightly on her feet. The child saw that it wasn't her mother after all. She felt a cold, sickening relief sweep over her. Something she was much too young to fully understand.
"He won't wake up" she told the witch in a small voice. Another figure had come into the room now, an old man with a long white heard and white hair. The girl turned towards him. "Wake daddy up please" The man surveyed the little child through half-moon glasses.
"He won't wake up" he told her quietly. It sounded like an apology. The girl sat heavily on the floor, the purple light was gone from her eyes now. She stared at her own hands blankly as her two-year-old-world unravelled. He had promised he would never leave her. One small, perfect tear slid down her pale cheek.
"Albus, what do we do?" The witch asked in a slightly constricted voice "look at her, she's just a child, just a baby..." The old man bent towards the little girl.
"Alyssa" he said gently. She looked up at him. "Alyssa, you have to come with us" The girl shook her head. "We'll find someone to take care of you"
"Daddy looks after me."
"He can't do that anymore, Alyssa. He's gone. And your mummy's gone too, neither of them are ever coming home." Alyssa nodded slowly, she knew that. It didn't make it any easier.
"She's a clever girl, isn't she?" The witch's voice shook slightly. "Simon told me she started speaking in sentences when she was one year old…"
"Yes Minerva. She is a clever child. We have to be careful what we do with her."
"You can't send her to her relatives like you did with Harry, she'll go bad then. The Malfoys would turn her bad."
"I think perhaps you are right. But I had no intention of sending her to the Malfoys. Cecilia will take her, I'm sure she will bring her up well. However, she must be allowed contact with her Aunt's family. Blood is, after all, thicker than water."
"Dumbledore, you don't think she will, umm, turn out like her mother?" Dumbledore stood in silence for a moment. Alyssa was right beside them, drinking in every word. But she was too young to understand. She was too young for any of this, but old enough to understand what had happened, perhaps even remember it. She had only just turned two, it was and awful way to start the new year. Now she had to start a new life as well.
"We cannot know what the future will bring" he said simply. "But I have faith in her. Simply having a bad family does not turn you bad yourself." Then he bent down and picked up the little girl. "We will deal with this mess" he indicated around the room "once we have taken Alyssa to safety."
"I can't believe it, Albus. I really can't believe it" Minerva's voice broke. "This was supposed to be over. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone, he's been gone for half a year. How could this happen?"
"It happened because of his followers, because they are still being rounded up. They are desperate, desperate enough to leave their children alone in the world." He looked at Alyssa who was in his arms, still staring at her father's body. Then he turned and swept out of the room. Minerva McGonagall followed him.
It was dark outside, the streets were lined with snow. It was eerie how, well, normal, everything looked after what had happened. The two figures made their way to the end of the street, the child - the baby - clutched in Dumbledore's arms. When they had reached the cover of darkness they disappeared with a loud crack! Leaving it all behind.
They re-appeared in a different street, also covered in a thick blanket of snow. Silently they made their way towards a house will a mustard yellow door. Minerva closed her fist around the cold door knocker. She knocked three times. The sound rang through the large house. Inside Cecilia woke up feeling rather annoyed. She shuffled down the stairs wondering who was knocking on her door at this untimely hour. She snapped the door open angrily.
"You had better have a good reason for waking me up at this god forsaken hour or I swear I will curse you into oblivion!" She snarled.
"I do apologise Cecilia, perhaps we could come in?" Dumbledore asked politely. Cecilia glared at him but she stood aside to admit them into her home readily enough. She looked at him curiously, taking in the baby in his arms.
"What are you doing with Simon's kid?" she asked, staring at the pretty child who had now slid out of Dumbledore's arms and was peering around the room. "Baby-snatching now are we?"
The little girl opened her eyes, the early morning light was creeping through her curtained windows, extending a comforting hand towards her. She sat up and pushed the covers away from her delicately. She was tired, she had not slept much that night. She could easily be forgiven for this because today was her birthday, many children sleep badly the night before their birthday. She had stayed awake all night in a feverish excitement. Something special would happen today, she knew it. Today she turned seven.
Alyssa was often described as a bright, sparky child. She was pretty in an unusual way. Her skin was so pale, almost white. It stood out against her long hair, as dark as it is possible for hair to be without being black. There was something about Alyssa, a light that seemed to burn inside of her. No one could say she was an easy girl to look after, indeed many thought that Cecilia should be given a medal. Alyssa, being the bright and sparky child that she was, rarely sat still. She had a habit of disappearing, or else stealing Cecilia's wand at every possible opportunity. Once, poor Cecilia had walked into a room and been faced with a horrendous creature with the body of an owl and the head of Alyssa's cousin's spaniel. Of course it had been easy enough to put right, but it was so difficult to predict what she would do next.
She made her way through to the living room, her pale feet making no sound on the soft carpet. She entered the room to find Cecilia already up, a cup of tea in her hands and a pair of rather worn purple slippers on her feet.
"Happy birthday!" The woman exclaimed cheerfully. "What do you want for breakfast? Toast, cereal?" The little girl looked at her for a moment. Cecilia was not her mother, but she was as good as. No, she was better than her mother. Much better. She was a middle aged witch with a kindly but stern face. Many children would be scared of her. Alyssa wasn't. Alyssa was not scared of anything. She had decided that a long time ago.
"Do I have to have breakfast? Can't I open my presents now?"
"Well, because you are seven today and because I am too kind, I will let you skip breakfast and open your presents now." Alyssa beamed at her. It was difficult to choose which brightly wrapped parcel to open first, they all looked so exciting. But it was an envelope that intrigued her most. It wasn't shiny or colourful. It looked rather old actually. It was yellow and curling at the edges. Alyssa reached for it. Her name was written on the front in rather messy, rushed writing. For some reason her hands were shaking as she opened it. Inside there wasn't a birthday card, instead there was a piece of folded parchment. Her hands were shaking more now which she thought was rather stupid. It was only a letter! But it was the most terrible and wonderful letter she had ever or would ever receive. It was from her dad. Of course, it wasn't anything special to get a letter from your father, not for most children. But Alyssa wasn't most children, and for her it was very special to get a letter from her father. Alyssa could hardly even remember her father, because her father was dead.
When you are young things never seem as difficult. Maybe that's because you don't think about them for as long. There where a lot of things in that letter that Alyssa didn't understand. But then, letters from dead fathers are bound to be complicated. She knew her dad had died, she never questioned that. But he had known he was going to die, how did he know? Alyssa had asked Cecilia this and was told that she would understand when she was older. That was okay, she didn't mind waiting. As she grew, Alyssa thought about the letter quite a lot. At odd moments parts of it would appear in her mind, written in that blotched, hurried writing. She kept it with her always, it was the last remnants of the father she had lost.
When Alyssa was nine years old she found her first true friend. Of course there were children she played with and she had a cousin who she occasionally visited but she had never had a proper friend, someone who she trusted completely. Alyssa had never minded. She didn't need friends, not really. But then one day she was playing alone by the river and everything changed. As she crouched in the grass her eyes were drawn towards a clump of bushes. She had crawled forward and brushed aside the tangled branches. She caught sight of a small egg, alone and defenceless. It was hatching and there was no animal or bird to look after the creature inside when it came out. Alyssa felt sorry for it, she knew what it was like not to have a mummy or a daddy. She stayed and she watched it. The thing inside it struggled to get out into the world. Gradually the opening in the egg grew bigger and bigger and Alyssa could hear the beautiful soft sound the thing inside it was making. She decided it must be some sort of bird. Alyssa was right, which she was very used to, at last the chick fought its way out. It was a beautiful bird already, even though it had only just hatched. It was small and delicate with eyes as bright as amethysts. Alyssa looked at the bird and she realised it was hers, there was no one else there to take it so she did. Cecilia was very dismayed when she saw Alyssa return with the bird.
"Honestly Alyssa! Haven't I taught you anything? It could be anything, it's not like any bird I've seen! What if it's dangerous?"
"She isn't dangerous." Alyssa said simply. Cecilia let her keep it, not that she had much choice. She knew that it would break Alyssa's little heart to lose the bird. And she had to admit, it didn't look as if it was dangerous anyway. It grew quickly, truly it was a beautiful bird. It was slender and magnificent, its feathers were black, so black that it sometimes seemed as though, should you reach out a hand and touch it, your hand would be enveloped in darkness.
Alyssa called her Lachrymose.
Cecilia never asked why.