Summary: A story in which Harry Potter has a sibling… a twin sister in fact! The prophecy told of twins born at the end of June, of parents that thrice defied Voldemort. The twins would have great, unimaginable powers, powers strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord who ruled over all. Voldemort freaks and tries to kill the twins, but ends up as a spirit instead… when he notices the girl has a very strong aura, and takes her away, intending on befriending the child who has the power to destroy him.

A/N: So yeah… I was reading some Harry Potter fanfics, and I got the inspiration so we'll see where it goes.
BTW; if you see any mistakes, please point them out to me. My beta is currently VERY busy at school, and I have already sent him two things to beta, so I didn't want to add more pressure on his already full schedule. Thanks!

Prologue

"The ones with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approach… twins, born as the seventh month dies… Children of ones who have thrice defied him… They will have power so far unimaginable, far more than any before…"

Gleaming red eyes met stormy grey eyes. "Is this true?" a high, cold voice hissed.

"Every word," another, shakier voice promised. The gleaming red eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Very well… there is only one choice then… the Potters!" the cold voice said, voice full of hate and malice. The stormy grey eyes turned panicked.

"The… the Potters, My Lord? Lily…?" the shaky voice whispered the last part. The red eyes glared down the grey.

"Surely you hold no love for that blood traitor and that filthy mudblood?!" the grey eyes turned ashamed.

"Please, My Lord… spare the woman. 'Tis not her fault she was born in filth," the grey-eyed man pleaded.

The red-eyed cloaked figure paused its pacing, apparently thinking. "Since you have been loyal and given me this information… I will grant your request. I will offer her a choice. Whether she takes it or not is up to her."

"Thank you, My Lord! Thank you!" the grey-eyed man fell to his knees, practically worshipping the cloaked figure.

"Leave, and send in our little rat friend," the red-eyed figure ordered. The grey-eyed man nodded obediently, and left.

*scene break*

Haley Potter was unusually aware for a baby of 15 months. She knew things; understood things that most children couldn't hope to begin to understand until they were three years old. She understood why her parents were worried. Though she couldn't hope to know about the war, she knew the world was dark, outside their bright, happy little home. Haley could feel in inside. Her brother seemed not to notice, always happy and rarely sad, no matter what happened to him. He'd burn his hand on the stove, cry for literally two seconds, and then be happily laughing again. Things just slid off of him.

But Haley was different, a more somber babe. She could tell that her parents were worried, though she knew not of what. But she noticed that every time there was a knock on the door, or they heard someone just outside their home, both James and Lily tensed up, hands to their wands. And so it was, that fateful night that left the wizarding world reeling in shock.

Harry and Haley were playing together in the living room, just rolling around and having a good time. Their father came in the room and threw down his wand onto the coffee table, collapsing on the sofa, laughing at something Lily had said. Lily herself picked up Harry and swung him around, making him giggle happily. Then the door burst open. Lily's eyes widened and scooped up Haley in her arms, fleeing up the stairwell.

"Get the kids, Lily! I'll hold him off!" James shouted after her. A high, cold laugh filled the house with the sound of evil.

"You fool! You hope to hold me off, without a wand?! Avada Kedavra!" the red-eyed figure in the cloak shot a spell at James, causing the man to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut. The cloaked figure made its way up the stairway, to the room the frantic mother had tried to block off. The figure casually blasted the furniture out of the way, entering the room.

Lily frantically blocked the children's crib with her body. "No! Not Harry! Not Haley! Please! Not my babies! Take me instead! Please! Not Harry, not Haley!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl! Stand aside!" the figure ordered, but the mother paid no heed, still blocking the children.

"Please! Not them! Take me instead! Not Harry! Not Haley! Please!" she pleaded for mercy, but got none as the figure ordered her a second and third time from the crib before losing patience.

"Avada Kedavra!" a green light shot at the woman, cutting her down just like her husband.

Then the figure crossed to the crib, looking down at the innocent babes. Harry thought it was all a joke of his father, expecting to see James pull the hood down, and his mom to pop up, laughing. But Haley knew better. She saw what Harry did not, the evil red eyes glaring, and pulled Harry down. She held him, glaring back at the cloaked figure, daring him to do the deed.

Lord Voldemort looked down at the little girl glaring at him. His eyes narrowed, and he shot his final spell. "Avada Kedavra!" the green light shot at the twins. Then Voldemort was in major pain, and found himself collapsed on the floor. He tried to get up, to realize that he was no longer inside his body. His body was sprawled out, burning, melting, an empty shell. Voldemort rose himself over the crib, hoping that he had at least killed the damn kids. But miraculously, both babes were still alive.

The little boy was collapsed, a lightning scar on his forehead, bleeding and shining like silver. The girl was not unconscious, but staring at something Voldemort couldn't see, a small smile on her face. A scar ran across her right eye, and that eye had turned a bright but deep gold, contrasting with her other grey eye. It was with a jolt that Voldemort recognized the grey of the eye; suspiciously wondering who exactly this girl's father was. But her twin was the spitting image of James.

Then Voldemort noticed that a deep blue glow was beginning to surround the girl, and he realized that the girl was the source of the power. The blue glow was her aura; she was projecting it from herself visibly; something even that powerful old fool Dumbledore had trouble doing. But this girl, this mere baby, was projecting her aura like it was easy as breathing! The girl was powerful, alright. Voldemort spared a glance at the boy, who had awakened, and was beginning to cry. It was then that Voldemort made his decision.

The boy was of no consequence; he wasn't the one Voldemort was looking for. The girl was the powerhouse, the important piece in the game. As it was obvious that Voldemort could not kill the girl through conventional means, he'd have to gain control over her. He couldn't let that fool Dumbledore get his arthritic hands on her; then the Light would win for sure. Voldemort sunk into the crib and enveloped the girl with his spirit. He'd been pure spirit before, so he knew what to do. He closed his eyes and focused.

*scene break*

Rubeus Hagrid had just gotten an urgent message from the Headmaster. Lily and James were dead! He needed to see if Harry and Haley had survived. Hagrid was shedding tears as he strode through the burning house. He paid no notice to the timbers crashing around him. He saw James first, and gave a cry of rage that he echoed when he come to the upstairs bedroom. He looked around. He-who-must-not-be-named was nowhere in sight; just leaving a slump of burned robes. Hagrid crossed the room to the crib, where he let out another cry. Harry was there, with a bleeding lightning bolt scar on his head; but of Haley there was no sign. Thankfully Harry was alive, crying for his mother. Hagrid picked up the baby, cradling him.

"It'll be al'ight, little one," Hagrid tried to whisper. He left the house as the Aurors arrived.

"You alright, Hagrid?" one of them asked.

"Where's Lily and James? And little Haley?" another asked, only to break off as he saw Hagrid's tears. "No…" he gasped.

Hagrid merely nodded. There were gasps and moans and shrieks all around. They got to work trying to get the fire out; trusting that Hagrid would take Harry, the supposed only survivor of the Potter family, to Dumbledore, who would surely keep him safe.

They never did find little Haley Potter. The cloak and robes Voldemort left behind had a good amount of his body in them, burned to a crisp, and it was assumed that somehow little Harry had deflected the curse, burning the house, his sister, and Voldemort himself. Harry Potter became the Boy-Who-Lived, and was sent to live with his only living relatives, the magic-hating muggles, the Dursleys.

But if the Aurors had looked a little further, indeed did more than stand around boo-hooing about Lily and James, and/or celebrating that Voldemort was finally gone; they would have noticed the traces of magic; and followed it to where Voldemort's spirit had taken Haley. But, as it was, the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic were the usual incompetent fools just as the government itself, and Haley was left to the devices of Lord Voldemort.

A/N: So that was the prologue! What did you think? Pretty interesting, huh? This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction, so please don't hate me. Don't bother flaming me. I will reply cuttingly and then use the flame to make smores. I can't stand people who flame others.
Mind you, flames are different than critism. Like when someone says: "oh I don't like your fanfic, and this is why: *blah blah blah*" that is not a flame to me. That is honest constructive critism. I may feel bad that you don't like my fic, but that is not a flame. A flame is when someone goes: "I hate your fic, it's really bad, blah blah blah" and curses at you, not even explaining why they don't like it… That is a flame and is very rude and I hate that. So… EH! That is my rant on flames, goodbye everyone.