Chapter One: The Prophecy, The Veil & a Dursley Plan

"Why do you believe you deserve a post as Hogwarts Divination professor?" Albus Dumbledore asked. He was sitting in a tiny inn room above the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade village. The room was a square wood sort of affair, small and plain, its bed decorated with stiff purple and white bedspreads that gave one the constant impression they had just been cleaned of mold. Serviceable, but little else.

He had requested this place, and not just because the barkeep was his brother. No one would bother them at the Hog's Head; it wasn't that sort of place. Dark, dingy, and full of sketchy characters, everyone looked the other way when it came to each other.

His potential Divination professor, Sybil Trelawney, sat across from him at the room's table for her interview, a single candle lit between them in the shadowy room, winter storming across outside through the small, old-fashioned window. Trelawney was covered in bangles and shawls, her hair frazzled and her eyes huge behind bejewelled glasses.

Like her mannerisms, it seemed to be all for show.

"I can See with my mind's eye that you are skeptical of me, Headmaster Dumbledore…" she said in a slow, silvery, misty voice, sounding very wise.

"No, you can see from my face. I'm not trying to hide it," said Dumbledore, smiling frigidly in a way that belied his appearance - the long silver beard, rich purple robes, and spectacles of the O Wise One. Since the civil war had started among their kind, Dumbledore had less patience than he used to.

Sybil stopped and gave a distinctly unSeerlike frown and a glare.

"Fine," she said in a flatter voice. "I believe I deserve the position because I have a clear case of the Sight - just like my famous Seer grandmother, Cassandra. You knew her, correct, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"I did," said Dumbledore, leaning forward, his hands steepled. "And she truly was a great Seer. But I am not convinced you have inherited her gifts. What proof do I have?"

"Just like one without the Sight… to misunderstand… to need proof…" said Sybil, somehow lofty and silvery at the same time. "But I see something, Professor Dumbledore… an undue affection for my late grandmother, perhaps?"

"I am gay," said Dumbledore matter of factly, and a furious flush came over Sybil's face.

"Fine - I see -!" She was becoming desperate. "I see that you are distrustful of those around you, I see -!" She had actually leaned forward. Sybil wasn't particularly talented or clever; she needed this job.

The problem was, Dumbledore himself wasn't convinced Seeing and Divination could be taught anyway. It was an innate gift.

"Easy to tell for anyone like me leading a great group of people in the fight against the Dark Lord Voldemort." Sybil flinched as Dumbledore got to his feet. "I am leading the Order of the Phoenix in the war; I am a part of several government councils in addition to being headmaster of Hogwarts School. Of course I am on edge and distrustful; we all are.

"So, Ms Trelawney, I believe that concludes our interview." Dumbledore had turned away toward the door. "Thank you very much, but I believe your services are not require -"

"Four girls will appear to vanquish the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore paused at the voice coming from behind him, his eyes widening. This voice was quite unlike Sybil's previous ones, either normal or silvery. It was hoarse and rough, and when Dumbledore turned back, he saw Sybil's mouth sagging and gaping, her eyes rolling around as if she were having a seizure.

It was almost as if she were making a real Prophecy.

"Four girls will appear to vanquish the Dark Lord… assisted by those within yet without of the Dark Lord's rankings… born to those who have thrice defied him… born as the seventh month dies…"

Sybil suddenly snorted and seemed to come awake, returning to her normal self. "So sorry, what have I missed?" she said. She didn't seem to remember anything. Dumbledore stared at her warily. Sybil returned to herself and ran desperately at Professor Dumbledore. "Please, Professor, I promise I can -!"

"Yes, you have the job, Sybil," said Dumbledore abruptly, still staring. "We are moving you to Hogwarts Castle immediately."

Only there would she be safe. Sybil did not seem to realize what she had just done. And if Voldemort got his hands on her… Dumbledore didn't want to think about what might happen, most particularly to her.

"Oh, thank you, thank you -!" Sybil seemed delighted.

"Hey! What are you doing out here?! Get away!" came a rough voice from right outside the door. Dumbledore burst it open to see his massive, bearded, plain-clothed brother wrestling someone away from where they had been listening on the landing. Severus Snape had been listening - and Severus Snape, a sallow, prowling man with greasy black hair and a hooked nose, worked for Voldemort.

"Aberforth, no! Wait -!" Dumbledore rushed down the stairs into the dark and dingy pub itself, but Aberforth, his brother, had already thrown Severus Snape out of the pub and into the cold, snowy night.

"Spying in my pub… Get out of here! And stay out!" Aberforth slammed the door shut.

Dumbledore ran to the glass paneling in the door just as he saw Severus Snape Disapparate away in the snowstorm, vanishing in a gust of wind without a trace. He felt suddenly cold.

But supposedly… if the wording of Sybil's prophecy were truly accurate… it would not have mattered whether or not Voldemort knew…

Those four girls under that family would have grown up to be a threat anyway.


The Potter couple sat down before Dumbledore's claw-footed desk in his office at Hogwarts Castle. Fawkes the Phoenix was on his golden perch behind them, little silver instruments whirred and emitted puffs of smoke all around the big sunlit airy room full of windows, books lined the shelves, and the moving portraits of snoozing headmasters and headmistresses lined the wall behind Dumbledore's desk.

"It's nice to be back at the old place. Had a trip through some of my old passageways and hiding places," said James cheerfully, leaning back easily in his seat before Dumbledore. He had messy black hair, hazel eyes, and glasses, a Pureblood Potter in the truest sense of the word.

"What did you want to see us about, Professor Dumbledore?" Lily asked warmly. She had long, straight dark-red hair and bright green eyes, completely different from her blonde and blue-eyed Muggle sister.

"You two have stopped fighting for the Order for one very specific reason, one I do not contest in the slightest," said Dumbledore. "According to all reports, you two are going to have quadruplets. Four children, all girls. At the end of July."

It was the only possibility.

"Yes, it's going to be a nightmare," said James calmly.

"For you? You won't even have to give birth to them!" Lily snapped, and James smiled uneasily.

"At least they'll be fraternal," said James. "That way we'll be able to tell them apart." Lily slapped him on the shoulder. "Ow! What? I thought it was a good point!"

"And you are searching for a home? One big enough for four children?" Dumbledore continued.

"Well… yes," said Lily, frowning. "But why would you need to meet us about that?"

Dumbledore put his Pensieve before them. A shallow stone basin covered in carvings, it had swirly silver liquid-vapor memories swirling around inside it. He swirled them around with his long-fingered hand, and called one forth.

Sybil's head appeared floating above the basin. She gave the full prophecy, and then faded back down into swirling memory inside the Pensieve.

Lily's hand was over her mouth. James had leaned forward, his eyes wide.

"Your family must go into hiding immediately," said Dumbledore, eyeing Lily's growing belly. "Because Voldemort knows."

"How?" James demanded.

"Someone was listening outside our door when Sybil, our new Divination instructor, gave the Prophecy during my teacher's interview with her in a private room at the Hog's Head," said Dumbledore.

"Who?"

Dumbledore looked quietly at Lily. "Severus Snape."

Lily's eyes closed at the memory of her old childhood friend, a friendship that had turned so horribly wrong. "... So what do we do?" she asked at last, her eyes opening, determined.

"Exactly. That bastard isn't laying his hands on my daughters," said James angrily.

"I would normally have suggested an old cottage I used to live in at a small rural village. But with four children on the way? It's not big enough. So I am afraid I have to recommend Sirius's childhood home - the Black family estate, 12 Grimmauld Place, a dark and grim old manor house in London," said Dumbledore. "You will give birth there, everything."

"... Won't Sirius's mother be rather upset that we're living there?" said James uncertainly.

"Ah, that. Well, I told Sirius the home would be useful in helping you and your family, so Sirius promptly wrote to his mother and told her he was marrying a Muggle. I am told she died of a heart attack, the letter still clutched in her hand," said Dumbledore matter of factly. "A rather grim way to get the house, but it is now his and he is gifting it to you. I was told to pass along the message: Better you than me."

"Ah," said Lily. "... Comforting."


Lily walked, fully pregnant, around her babies' new home. She was troubled, pondering. The manor was full of crimson and dark wood and velvet, with long sweeping staircases and four poster beds and floor length curtains and an ancient grand piano. The city of London rumbled by outside. In a dark way, it should have been grand.

But the house elf hated them, his ancestors' taxidermied heads were mounted on an upstairs wall, dour moving portraits glared at them from the other walls, and a troll foot umbrella stand stood by the front door. Walburga Black's portrait hadn't been put up yet, but Sirius had informed them his mother was an indignant screamer, "so you have that to look forward to."

The place always seemed dark and shadowy, even in the daytime, like some sort of permanent spell. Lily and James were afraid to touch any of the ancient artifacts in the cupboards in case they were cursed. Some stains around the house looked suspiciously like blood. Even the books of names on her shelves were filled with dark, elegant, fantastical names she'd never have previously considered for her daughters.

It was not, she thought, a portentous beginning for a warm and growing family to come. And right outside their door, a war raged on and that evil man was plotting the death of her unborn daughters… over a Prophecy of power…

All precautions had been made. The binding on the house elf never to leave the home, the Floo network shut off, the Fidelius Charm put up and an innocent looking Peter Pettigrew made the Secret-Keeper on Sirius's recommendation. All seemed well enough.

But Lily still worried. She had a bad feeling - and her bad feelings usually weren't wrong.

Well, nothing for it. She lifted herself matter of factly out of her gloom and bustled away. To detoxifying and decursing the house, then, making it a bit more liveable.


On Halloween night over a year later, Lily and James were just shepherding what James fondly called their "small herd of toddlers" from the Grimmauld Place sitting room toward the staircase when Voldemort blasted down the front door.

"It's him! Lily, take the girls and go! I'll hold him off!"

Voldemort shrieked with laughter from beneath his dark hooded cloak as James sprang in front of him, wand at the ready. Both parents had their wands on them - they used them to levitate the four girls up the stairs to bed at night, both to amuse their daughters and because it was easier.

Lily levitated the girls now and sprinted up the stairs with them, they looking wonderingly over their shoulders at the goings-on below them.

James was an expert in Transfiguration. He and Voldemort made an almighty mess of things as they transfigured different pieces of furniture in the manor front entryway, crashing them against each other in a great battle. Finally, in the middle of a Transfiguration struggle, James tried to sneak in a red jet of a curse through the struggling Transfigured objects - and Voldemort was ready for him.

The spell rebounded and hit James, temporarily dazing him and knocking him off of his feet.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A single jet of green light and James Potter lay slumped, dead.

Voldemort mounted the stairs and sensed out the correct room - the room with the most concentrated magic inside of it. He tried the door handle, and smirked. The girl had built up a blockade, trying to hold him back from opening the door.

He waved his wand and the blockade behind the door flew away, the door flying open.

Lily stood there ready in the room, her face determined. They were in the master bedroom, with its king-sized four-poster bed and its hangings. Her four girls were peering curiously, hesitantly around her from behind, in their pajamas. They stood on the bed as she stood before them, a strong glowing gold Shield Charm at the ready.

Voldemort stepped slowly, softly, into the room.

"Now this is interesting," he said softly, in his high, unnatural voice. "I do not want to kill you, Lily Potter. I suppose I cannot convince you to simply stand aside?"

"If you want my daughters, you'll have to get to them over my dead body," Lily spat in a hard voice.

"That can be arranged," said Voldemort, sounding cruelly amused, and he shot a surprise Killing Curse - one of the only unblockable spells - right through her Shield Charm. "Avada Kedavra!"

Lily Potter fell over like a puppet with its strings cut and lay dead, her green eyes wide open and her face growing paler, her hand with its wand still thrown out where she'd been shielding her children.

The girls stared down at her brightly, uncomprehendingly. They thought she was acting, having no true idea what was going on. They looked up at Voldemort, perhaps expecting him to be their father underneath that cloak -

He stepped closer and they saw his face. It was bone white and snake-like, with thin lips, slits for nostrils, and glowing red eyes, thin and in sharp definition like a skull, hairless.

The girls began crying. All four of them. They had seen he was not James.

Voldemort's lip curled in fury. He hated crying. He never had been able to stomach the small ones whining at the orphanage, and with all four going at once, this sounded just like that.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin would be dealt with next. They had to be what the Prophecy was referring to - a Black and a werewolf, but friends of the Potters and the Order. But he had to deal with this most important problem first.

In a wave of irritation at the chorus of screaming crying, he lashed out in a Killing Curse at all four without thinking to aim for anyone in particular. "Avada Kedavra!"

All four girls were protected by Lily's love spell. The curse rebounded off of all four of them at once, not one in particular scarred, and it hit Voldemort. In a great explosion, he disappeared.

Elsewhere, quite abruptly, so did Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.


A few days later, Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold - a square, squat, heavily-jowled woman in a black pantsuit - stood behind Albus Dumbledore in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries.

Blue torches glowed on the black, windowless underground walls. The silence was almost eerie as the silvery Veil floated quietly before them.

"I still don't see why you wanted to come here, Albus," said Minister Bagnold. "You've examined the sites individually where all three people have disappeared. Why come here?"

"Because this is indelibly connected to all three disappearances," said Dumbledore, waving his wand quietly over the Veil. He stood back at last. "Yes, I believe I know what happened."

"Care to enlighten me?" said Minister Bagnold flatly, who, to her credit, had had a very trying week.

"I believe that Voldemort has made himself technically immortal. You have heard of Horcruxes? Every time he murdered an important person, he tore off a piece of his soul and locked it away in a protected, undisclosed location," said Dumbledore. "This is the key to everything else.

"You see, Voldemort has torn his soul so many times, he doesn't feel it or notice it anymore. He doesn't realize how fractured it is.

"Here is what happened. Lily Potter sacrificed herself shielding her children in an act of love and blood, thereby making each of them impervious to touch by the Dark Lord Voldemort, the one who killed her. This includes magical touch. During the four-strong Killing Curse rebound, his soul was hit so hard that a part of it tried to split off from the rest. But it couldn't find any place to go into. None of the girls, for example, were marked, having all rebounded the Curse at once, and no magical artifacts lay open.

"So this is what occurred instead. With no clear place to go, his entire remaining soul became lost and it separated from his mind and magical essence entirely.

"Voldemort's remaining spirit, with no body and no power, went one way. And I do not believe he may have noticed that his soul went another.

"Here is where it gets interesting. The only way to heal a broken soul is for it to repent something terrible it has done. In that moment, Voldemort's soul had every reason to feel true regret - it had just experienced terrible pain, and it was now lost, fractured, with no owner. It realized its own stupidity too late. And so it regretted.

"And in doing so, it healed itself.

"So now we have Voldemort's broken, soulless spirit somewhere out there in the world, with no body or power attached, and we have a newly healed soul floating around in the ether. This all happened in seconds. That soul is, I believe, stuck in stasis at the last moment it was truly whole - which is sixteen. All its other memories have been lost."

"So where is it? The soul?" Minister Bagnold demanded.

"I believe I have discovered what your Department was trying to do with this Veil," said Dumbledore instead. "Are you familiar with Plato's theory of the forms?"

Minister Bagnold stared blankly.

"Plato believed that there is the world we know, and then a separate world made entirely of the essence of each thing on earth. The single essence of all the trees in the world, for example, exists in this other realm. Souls also belong to this realm, though minds and bodies do not.

"This is a Veil to the other realm - to Plato's world of the forms. Young Tom Riddle's soul is stuck in statis here, but it does not belong. He is on the other side of the Veil, but I am sensing unrest in the Veil because it does not want him there.

"And now we get to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

"My guess is that Voldemort was thinking of those two right before he was destroyed. It makes sense - consider the Prophecy. Those two would be the most logical helpers to try and destroy. A werewolf and a Black would usually be on the Dark Side, but these two, friends of the Potters, defied expectations.

"But in doing so, his soul pulled their souls into stasis along with him. The tug of the other realm, of the Veil, was too strong."

"So where are their bodies?" said the Minister disbelievingly.

"In that realm, there is no body. There is only form. So when they come back, you see, they will have bodies. The transition will be too severe to allow otherwise."

"When they come back?"

"Oh, yes. As I said, the Veil does not believe they belong. As you know, a full magical ejection under non-special circumstances usually takes about ten days. The problem is, time works different in the realm beyond the Veil. So we have ten years before they reappear, with the memories previously specified. Black and Lupin will have all their memories through the war and their twenties. Riddle will only remember being sixteen.

"As to what age their bodies will physically be… I do not know. That will be decided by the Veil. It appears to be… weirdly sentient. Quite miraculous, really.

"If I'm guessing right… they will come back aged eleven. At Hogwarts age.

"And of course, wherever he is out there, Voldemort will be even worse. He no longer has any soul left at all," said Dumbledore softly. "He is a mind and a powerful magic, a sick creation of a disturbed boy who is now back with us. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Why are you guessing eleven?" said the Minister, frowning.

"Consider it. Of his ranks but not of his ranks? All three of these people fit that qualification. Tom Riddle, however much he wants to be, is not the Dark Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore plainly.

"They're the helpers to those girls for when he comes back," the Minister realized, her eyes widening.

"Well, they may not be the only ones… but it would be impossible not to see the connection," said Dumbledore. "They will be the age the girls are. It makes sense."

"So… when they come back out… you want them to go to Hogwarts," the Minister realized, disbelieving. She nodded, thinking. "It would not be a stretch," she said slowly, "to say that they are the children of themselves, and to let them live at Hogwarts… I'll allow that, under Prophecy," she said at last. "But all three will be kept under Ministry-controlled trackers and tight leashes."

"A reasonable idea, Minister, though if I know these three, they may eventually find some way to break free," Dumbledore warned.

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try," said Minister Bagnold fairly.

Dumbledore nodded in acquiesce to her point. "But just in case… we should be using Occlumency shields to hide our minds, and we should not tell them what all this is for. Why they are being sent to Hogwarts. Too many factors could then interfere with the Prophecy; at the beginning, it would be too much of a giveaway.

"On the other hand," he said slowly, "these girls might make for a marvelous four man team. That's a good thing. And I mean that not only in battles, but in more team-based competitions.

"One final warning."

"Just one?" said Minister Bagnold dryly.

"Though these two groups of people, numbers unknown, are meant to help each other… they may dislike each other at first. I also question what individual, special connection any of these girls would have with the Dark Lord Voldemort, and what the possible repercussions of that lack of connection would be…" Dumbledore added softly, spinning his mind off into plannings only he could conceive of.

"Fine. For the next ten years this Veil is under constant monitor by Ministry officials," said Minister Bagnold. "I'll lay out the terms enshrined in a private, top-secret law. Now come with me. I want to hear your plans for those four girls, now that the war is for now over and their parents and Voldemort are gone.

"But first, I want them magic-tested. I want to see just how powerful these girls are, how healthy and stable they are, and what special abilities they have, if any."

Minister Bagnold and Professor Dumbledore left the veil room together.

"Sometimes it seems like everyone had kids last year," Minister Bagnold sighed as they left. "First the Malfoys had a son, and then the Lovegoods had a son. And they'll all be going to Hogwarts at the same time."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "War does tend to do that," he pointed out gently.

"Of course, I don't know what will happen to the Malfoy boy's father after his association with Voldemort," said Minister Bagnold plainly. "But it's not exactly like we can lock up the kid."

Dumbledore paused in surprised realization - looked back over his shoulder, smiled and walked away.

Behind them, the greyish-silvery Veil fluttered quietly in a breeze that did not exist, lit by blue flame torches against blank black walls.


The tiny toddler Potter girls stood, confused, in the middle of the Minister for Magic's private office as Healers in lime-green robes inlaid with the crossed bone and wand symbol knelt on the plush carpet before the massive desk and waved wands in the air all around them. Little golden words sprouted from the wands in lines, each in a little readout.

"... Minister, Headmaster," said the Head Healer, his eyes widening. "You're going to want to read these abilities."

They walked over - and as Minister Bagnold's eyes widened in wonder, Dumbledore's blue eyes lit slightly in triumph.

By next week, it would be all over the newspapers - The Girls Who Lived had been tested as having special powers, and were being sent to live with family in the Muggle world. And Peter Pettigrew, the one who had given the Potter family away, had vanished without a trace.

The details of the love magic, the Prophecy, and the Veil, of course… even the details of the adoption itself… would be kept a well guarded Ministry-and-Dumbledore secret.


Albus Dumbledore walked up to the Dursley family front door one November morning and knocked. It was a weekend, so Vernon Dursley would be home from work. The house, big, square, and two story with a neat walled-in garden, loomed around him.

Petunia Dursley opened the front door, saw him, screamed, and slammed the door shut.

Dumbledore sighed. "Petunia," he called, "I had hoped we wouldn't start off with this, but your sister is dead."

Silence on the other side of the door. Then, slowly, the door opened, Petunia Dursley peeking with big blue eyes around it at the wizard before her, who was dressed in a bizarre plum purple suit. She herself wore neat blonde hair and a flowery house dress.

"And shutting the door in my face," Dumbledore continued matter of factly, "was rude."

He walked past her into the house, past Vernon Dursley, who had stood and seemed to be trying to shield his chubby blond infant son Dudley in his high chair, scowling thunderously. Vernon Dursley was a vast man in every sense, with a red face, an ever-extending belly, and a bushy black mustache. He wore suits and ties. Their son was also Muggle.

Dumbledore pulled up a chair in the kitchen and sat down.

"Please sit," he said, waving. "I assume you at least want to hear the basic details of Lily and James Potter's murder. They were, no matter how badly you got along… family." He looked over his glasses at them sternly.

He was blunt, cold, crisp, and to the point.

The Dursleys slowly and hesitantly sat down in their neat English suburban Muggle kitchen… and Dumbledore explained. He told them the whole story in great detail, the civil war's purpose, how the Potters had been on the side defending Muggles like the Dursleys, the exact details of the Potters' murder by the Dark Lord Voldemort and how and why their children had miraculously survived everything.

"Why does this concern you?" he finished calmly, as Vernon Dursley sat back in shock and Petunia had a hand over her mouth, furious tears sparkling in her sharp blue eyes. "Because I have this proposal, one I hope you'll accept:

"Through private, undisclosed sources controlled by me, you will be given money. A lot of it."

They straightened.

The private, undisclosed sources were actually the ever-expanding Potter Pureblood family fortune made off of medicinal potions sales. He decided the girls could continue to supply money if they grew to trust their relatives when older and training witches. He would leave that up to them, hence not telling the Dursleys that the money already rightfully belonged to the girls.

"During these girls' childhood, you will have enough money to be furnished with a manor house of your choice. You will have all the theater and ballet trips and the holidays you could ever want. You will be able to pay for a nearby private primary school of your choosing for all five children. And you will have all the things you could ever need.

"Under two conditions."

The Dursleys leaned forward eagerly.

"First, you take in the Potter girls to raise alongside Dudley at this Muggle manor house and in these Muggle private schools.

"Second, you undergo consistent counseling and therapy - you stick with it - particularly in the areas of parenting, from a stable Halfblood residing in a Muggle office.

"If either of these two requirements ever fail to be met, I will know and the constant flow of money will cease immediately.

"I trust you will agree, and not just because of the money. Because of the blood love magic Lily produced with her sacrifice, as Lily's blood relatives you are now the only people who can safely house these girls. Living with you, Lily's blood magic protection will extend to your entire place of residence. It and they cannot be touched by this most evil of men.

"I would also remind you of some ethics toward Petunia's sister, who fought and died so bravely for her children. I think we all wish to think we would behave so honorably in protection of a young child."

Petunia and Vernon, already torn, had their eyes flick quite noticeable toward Dudley. Then there was the blood protection guilt trip… and the promise of endless money and a continued mostly-Muggle life…

Vernon and Petunia Dursley looked at each other. Vernon nodded once, his expression tight.

"We agree," said Petunia boldly, still a little angry and emotional, looking with her chin lifted toward Dumbledore. "To all requirements."

"... And what exactly do you propose we, as normal people, tell them?" Vernon added sarcastically. "Supposing we raise them as you hope we will?"

"As your own children? Why, yes, I can definitely see how that question would come up," said Dumbledore loftily.

Vernon bristled a little. He'd meant… as witches. And Dumbledore knew it.

"I recommend you just tell them the basics," said Dumbledore honestly. "Don't go all detail. Don't even take them back to us until Hogwarts age, or show them anything.

"But tell them about the war, including why it was started over blood, and about the Voldemort story. How they survived and what the blood protection means for them. Their parents' names and soldier occupations. Their fame.

"In the course of this, you may also have to explain a bit about the wizarding world. That it exists hidden. What a Muggle is. You could say that the wizarding world is old-fashioned because magic and electricity don't mix. You could explain that robes are our ancestral wear but most of us wear Muggle clothes in everyday life. We believe in a governmental acceptance of all wizarding human minorities, and our government is more forward in its actions toward citizens. We have a worship of nature, a twin God and Goddess, our ancestors' remaining essences, and the natural reincarnation cycles of the soul - similar to but not Wicca. We celebrate Halloween as Samhain, along with Summer and Winter Solstices.

"You don't have to be extensive. I really can't think of anything else they would need to know as young children in the Muggle world. Just tell them their basic story and the basic world they will eventually wade back into. Tell them about Hogwarts School, and that at eleven when their letter comes is when they will return to us during school terms."

He could see they looked torn at the very least on all of it. Hopefully that would change with the coming Halfblood therapy.

"Shall I introduce them? They must be getting rather cold out there, even bundled up," said Dumbledore expectantly.

"They're here?" said Petunia disbelievingly, as she and Vernon straightened.

"Yes. I'll have Minerva bring them in." Dumbledore stood and walked to the door. "They can come in now!"

And in walked a severe, stern woman with square glasses and a bun of black hair, a witch probably like all the others. Her name was Minerva McGonagall. She was shepherding four young girls - the Potter sisters.

"This," said Dumbledore, hand on the first girl's head, "is Ophelia. A Shakespearean name." Ophelia had a messy head of black curls and bright green eyes. "She has shown an early interest in storytime, which might translate later into a love for books. She is what we call a Legilimens - a natural mind reader.

"This," Dumbledore put a hand on the next girl's head, "is Io. A celestial name." Io had long, straight blonde hair and blue eyes. "She has shown an early interest in drawing and coloring, and in the Potters' previous pet cat, which might translate later into a love for art and animals. She is what we call a future-Seer - she gets visions of things to come.

"This," Dumbledore put a hand on the third girl's head, "is Morgana. An Arthurian name." Morgana had long, straight dark-red hair and hazel eyes. "She has shown an early interest in broomstick flying, which might translate into a love for sports. She is what we call a past-Seer - she gets visions of things that have already happened, important and emotional moments in the lives of the people who are nearby her.

"And this," Dumbledore put a hand on the fourth girl's head, "is Persephone. A mythological name." Persephone had a messy head of dark-red curls and blue eyes. "She has shown an early interest in dancing and dressup, which might translate later into a love for music and fashion - though she is already a little rebel. The darker, dreamier, or more exotic, the better. A little alternative girl, I think. Determinedly different. She is what we call a Metamorphmagus - she can change her appearance at will to look however she pleases.

"All were born on July 31st, by the heroic in more than one way Lily Potter. These are definitely destined to be four brilliant and talented witches, in addition to their fame, feeding off of each other to become better."

"... Well we don't care about that," Petunia sniffed at last, standing and recovering from her surprise.

"Quite right," said Vernon sternly. "They'll be treated normally and they'll like it that way."

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged a long look, headmaster and deputy headmistress communicating silently. "That," said Dumbledore determinedly, looking forward at last, "is exactly what we were hoping for."


Author's Note: Ophelia is Hermione, and she will be a Slytherin. Io is Luna, and she will be a Ravenclaw. Morgana is Ginny, and she will be a Gryffindor. Persephone is Tonks, and she will be a Hufflepuff.

I've seen lots of Slytherin Ginny but almost no Slytherin Hermione. I don't understand this, as Ginny aside from her vicious curses never acts much like a Slytherin, while Hermione quite literally caught Rita Skeeter as an insect inside a container at one point and poked at her with a stick for an entire summer purely out of vindictiveness. Oh, and then there was the time she tricked Umbridge into getting kidnapped and traumatized by a herd of angry centaurs. And let's not forget that she wiped the memories of her own parents and single-handedly shipped them off to a new life in Australia for their own protection.

… Why are there almost no Slytherin Hermiones?

I've put just as much thought into the pairings. Suffice it to say that though some of them may seem weird, I've put a lot of thought into them and I believe they're actually going to be pretty damn cool.

Anyway. Each girl will make two house best friends and will have a rivalry with her pairing of choice - though there will also be together scenes where applicable, probably in an earlier discovered Room of Requirement. The rivalries will start to dissolve rapidly in fourth year. Quidditch may not play much of a factor. (And if you were looking, I've already explained in this first chapter how I'm going to manage books two, three, and four.)

The next few chapters are a complete plotting of the important Potter girl childhood differences. I couldn't really take an entire childhood's worth of pretty blatant differences and relegate them to a single chapter.

Finally, I have a witchy playlist that I'm using for this story, made up of every truly witchy song I've been able to search for, discover, and find. It's rather long, but if you're interested, here's the list:

"I Put A Spell On You" by Nina Simone

"Burn the Witch" by Queens of the Stone Age

"Black Magic Woman" by Fleetwood Mac

"Here There Be Witches" by Creature Feature

"Seven Devils" by Florence + The Machine

"He Is" by Ghost

"Ghetto Ass Witch" by Ritualz

"Baptism" by Crystal Castles

"Hunting for Witches" by Bloc Party

"Burn the Witch" by Radiohead

"Kitchen Witch" by Ariel Pink

"Pagan Poetry" by Bjork

"Trick or Treat Dancefloor" by Cherry Glazerr

"Firestarter" by Blouse

"Disco/Very" by Warpaint

"Black Cat" by Broadcast

"Electric" by TEEN

"Witchcraft" by Blood Sister

"She's Lost Control" by Joy Division

"Apply" by Glasser

"Floor Show" by Kelela

"Cobra" by Young Magic

"Lantern" by SBTRKT

"Creator" by Santigold Vs Switch

"Bad Girls" by M.I.A.

"Pretty Girls" by Little Dragon

"A Forest" by The Cure

"How Soon is Now?" by The Smiths

"Spellbound" by Siouxsie & The Banshees

"Crystallized" by Melody's Echo Chamber

"VHS Dream" by Deerhunter

"Crystal Ball" by Grimes

"Feeling Alright" by Warpaint

"Priestess" by Pumarose

"White Walls" by The KVB