It was a sad thing, really.
The fact that the two Potters had succumbed to the pull of fame and left their daughter to be bullied and neglected by her own parents and brother.
Her brother.
Her tormentor.
Her worst fear.
Ian Potter.
She would hide from him, hide from the staring faces that he had poisoned.
She waited in fear, eyes wide, waiting for her brother to find her.
And he found her.
And tormented her.
Bullied her.
Hit her.
Called her names.
And her parents did not believe the angel Boy-Who-Lived would've done such a thing.
And the Boy-Who-Lived said, "No, it was not me."
And the supposedly loving, caring parents Lily and James Potter berated their truthful, tearful daughter for telling such terrible lies.
There was only one person who had ever cared, really.
Alastor Moody.
Magic was her only strength.
And so Isadora Potter was estranged from her happy family.
