A Harry Potter Fan-fiction Rated T+ for teens and above only.
In Which Harry Potter has a twin sister that no-one but Albus knows about...Draco, Severus, and Harry are in for a shock.
"Z. Potter" Professor McGonagal called my name after my brother's. I heard a collective gasp among the crowd, they had not realized that there were two Potters. That, or my attire had just shocked the hell out of them all. I smirked and looked at the cold floor out of habit. The thud-click of my steel toed combat boots on the floor announced my location loud and clear to the rest of the hall. Heads turned in my direction. I scowled at those judging eyes that the heads had.
My long red curls were held at temple height by black bands. My soft emerald green eyes were rimmed in black eye liner. Smokey eye shadow created a cloud of black powder above my eyes. My face had been foundation to a granite white, while my lips were decidedly blacker than my eye make-up. I had forsaken the Hogwarts standard clothing for my black mini skirt and white button up t-shirt. My standard black robe gave the look a final touch to my overall effect of telling people 'I don't care what you think, so back up off me.'
I stood next to the stool, refusing to sit. McGonagal gave me a subtle 'eh-hem.' I gave her a look that said 'I am not sitting down to only get up two seconds later.' She sighed and put the old musky hat on my head. I scowled again. I ignored the hat as it rattled its way through my head and took it off when it shouted out Slytherin. An entire table burst into applause and I rolled my eyes. I went down the stairs to where the table was at and positioned myself at the very end. I did not like people. I felt crowded.
Suddenly I felt another aura flash, and I looked up in a near joy. The aura was emating form another student who was sitting on the stool at this time. He was a blonde boy with green eyes and a troublemaker's smile. But his aura was as pure as gold, even though it was twinged with the opinions of bigot parents. I searched my memory for a name to put to this face...Draco Malfoy. That was what the professor had said. Draco . My year suddenly became a lot more interesting. The hat called him out as a Slytherin and I saw him eye the table, then eye me. In a split second he made a beeline for the seat next to me.
"So, your a Potter?" he sneered. This was already getting off to a bad start.
"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" I asked, lacing all of my available attitude in my voice. He got the hint because he backed off. Instead he changed the subject, to something else I did not like.
"So what does the Z stand for?" he asked.
"Ziona. But I like Z." I tuned out the Headmaster as he rattled on about something or other. Instead I turned my attention to the boy sitting next to me. "Are you always this inquisitive? Or are you only this way for me?" This got his attention.
"Why do you ask, Potty?" He sneered. Now I was going to kill him.
"Look Mouth-boy, I ask because I don't like questions, I don't like people, and I am beginning to not like you despite all my attempts otherwise. And I can come up with worse names for you Playboy-bunny if you really want to push your luck." I wasn't sure why I added that last part, the last time I had teased someone in the orphanage I had to run like hell to avoid my life being ended. After eleven years of fleeing, I was fast, fit, and stronger than most females, but I still couldn't fight. I would have to work on that.
"Fine, no Potty. Your pretty good." he said, I was trying not to jump in joy at not getting hit. "Anyway, I'm just curious because I met your brother. I was wondering if you were anything like him."
"You mean besides being blood relatives and growing up in Hellish Nightmares? I don't know of anything else that connects us. In fact I doubt he knew I existed."
"What do you mean?" This boy was more curious than potential adopters before I scare them shit-less.
"I mean that the orphanage let me know full well that my Auntie dearest didn't want me around because I am an exact replica of my mother. Harry probably got shit for looking like our father. The Damn Dursley's are anti-magic bigots from hell."
"I almost pity your brother, but, no, no I don't." The weasel looking boy next to me was almost funny, now if he would only mock someone else's family we'd get along great.
"So what about your family? Not every wizard is raised in a muggle place that hates them, so what is it like for you?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"My father works in the ministry, my mother is very proud. I was raised, told that I would eventually work in the ministry as well. I was flying a broom by the time I was four. And had my first accidental magic incident when I was six. What about you?" by the way he had jumped through that and passed the ball to me, I could tell that his childhood had not been the best, and that he was reluctant to tell about it. Had he been abused at times as well? It would explain his bitter way of speaking about his father moments ago, and his comment of pity towards my brother.
"I spent my days in the orphanage fleeing from the bigger kids who I usually had insulted in one form or another. My best friend there was a tree that I would climb to escape retribution for nasty comments I had directed the bed-wetter's way. The tree had so many branches the only way you could get to is was by crawling under them. And then the branches were so thin you had to be really light to climb them. I could scale any wall or fence by the time I was 5 and at seven I could out last anyone in any kind of endurance challenge. I can hold my breath for an hour under water because the bullies used to try to drown me. And I can spot a persons weakness at a mile and use it against them if I chose to." I said, a small smile of pain lighting upon my face at the remembered trouble.
"So you can tell what bothers a person easily. Sounds like a lot of fun." he said
"It is. Though it can be dangerous, there are some people that I don't try to read at all." I glanced down the table and noticed with humor that one of the prefects was terrified of snaked. I pointed him out to Draco. "He is not in the right spot. How does a person sit in the house of serpents among the snakes of the students when he is deathly afraid of snakes? Perhaps I will ask if he causes trouble."
Draco smirks. I look up at the high table where the teachers reside for the meal. I glance at them one by one, as they all light different auras. One of the auras startled and scared me. I pointed him out to Draco. "Who is the professor that has the turban on his head?" one of the other boys heard me.
"Oh, him, he's Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher." Holy shit, I thought. The DADA teach was as dark and evil as I had ever seen and he had a very dark spot on him.
"So who is our head of house teacher?" I asked.
"Professor Snape, the one in all black." Draco said. Great, his aura was nearly as confusing as mine and my brothers.
"Is there any way I can get out of here without attracting a lot of attention, my head is really starting to hurt." Draco shook his head, but grabbed my arm and stood. I stood as well and followed him. "I don't suppose you know where an empty classroom is, do you?" he shook his head again. I sighed. We sat on the steps near the Great Hall and waited for the dinner to end.
"What are you both doing out here?" A silky, but dark voice said quietly behind us. We both turned and looked behind us. Snape was there, he was the one that had spoken to us, but so was Quirrell. My vision grew dark and I grabbed my head. I saw ash and a face flying away through flames, then my vision came back. I was crouched over in my lap, with my head in my hands.
"Headache" I muttered. Then I looked up at Snape, a plea in my eye. "Is there an empty classroom with candles I can go to, please?" His eyes seemed void of any kindness, but he nodded his head.
"Draco, go back to the main hall, Quirrell will join you while I take Z somewhere where she can be relieved of her headache." We stood and split up. Snape led me down a few corridors until we stood in a dark classroom. I placed the candles in a circle, and lit them, the pulled out my tarot cards. I flipped them. Death. Someone was going to die this year. I looked at Snape.
"Someone will die this year. Someone dark will die, and someone kind will nearly pay the price for courage."
"How can you tell?" Snape asked, clearly not a man of many words.
"I have visions occasionally accompanied by a killer headache. To this date they have never been wrong, but I always confirm them with the cards, as they have yet to lead me astray" I responded, relieved to finally tell someone about it.
"What did you see?" Snape asked.
" Ashes, death, flames, and a face. Nothing I can pinpoint." I didn't mention my ability to see auras, or that Quirrell's was darker than an oil pit. Maybe I should have. I picked up my cards and blew out the candles. With a sigh I rested my head in my hands. I decided to tell Snape about Quirrell.
"Be careful of Quirrell. He is eviler and more conniving than imaginable. He will cause havoc before the year is done. He assists a darker power." My headache was going away, and I spoke a little louder to help clear my thoughts.
"How do you know?" The query was demanding and slightly angry.
"His aura. It's the darkest I have ever seen black be, but there is a spot on his head that is even darker, and radiates power, horrible power and despicable thoughts and memories. I hope never to see those." What a nightmare they would be, I thought to myself. I stood up, my headache finally passed. I was exhausted, and wanted to curl up on a bed and sleep until next week.
"I don't suppose you could assist me in finding the Slytherin Common Room?" I asked with a yawn. Snape nodded and exited the room, silently I followed him. My thoughts wandered as I made notes of the castle layout. Was this place going to be like any other school? Would I hate it here as well?My sides had begun to ache where the orphanage bully had managed to beat me before I left for this school. I was certain there were bruises. The corridors were getting colder and damper, but I didn't notice. I had lost sensitivity to the cold years ago. We came to a wall in a dead end corridor and Snape turned to me.
"The password is Basilisk Fang." he said, and as if on cue the bricks replaced themselves forming an archway with snakes as a border design. We entered the common room. The walls were green and the torches glowed an almost blue flame. The snakeskin furniture gave the room a feeling of expense and comfort. I felt more comfortable there than I had anywhere else for my whole life.
"Sit here and wait for your Prefects to arrive with the rest of your dorm-mates." Snape said, however I could not sit. It had been hard enough to do so on the train and at dinner as well as in the circle when I read the tarot cards. My lower back ached from where I had been whipped for tripping in front of the matron as I fled from my tormentors, I myself thought it was infected, and it had been all I could do not to whimper these days. So I stood, and this got a look of annoyance mixed with concern to cross Snape's face. I looked away, nervous that I would get beaten here as well. Just then the other Slytherins entered the room. I let out a slight exhalation of breath as Draco came over and stood by me.
"Are you alright?" Draco whispered out of the corner of his mouth as the Prefects explained how Slytherins had to stick together.
"I'm better, thanks." I responded, equally as quiet. Just then Snape took the floor and explained his rules on how he punished Slytherins and other students, explaining how because we were snakes we weren't trusted and there fore had more points docked than any other House combined by other teachers. The conversation after that quickly turned to abuse after that, and I stood there in slight shock.
"There are students who come to Hogwarts from abusive places, and I understand that they may not wish this knowledge to be made public. If you or someone you know is from or is suspected to be from such a place, you can immediately come and talk to me at any time, my office is through those doors and the floor length portrait of Sir Edward the Third guards the entrance to my private quarters. If you do not see me, refer to him and he will get me, or tell you where I can be located. Now, I wish to speak to Z, as well as the fourth through seventh year students. Form a line outside this door and when I say next, whoever is next in line may enter." With that he entered his office and the students got in line. I took my place as the very last with my books in my shoulder bag. I pulled out my potions book and began reading, keeping not of the progress of the line. I had just finished the potions book and was starting on Herbology when my turn was up. Keeping my nose in the book I walked through the doorway to his office and stood in front of his desk.
"You wished to speak to me, Sir." He was different from my other teachers that I had so I would not call him Professor and place him in the same category as the others.
"Will you explain to me why you refuse to sit down for any long length or extremely short length of time?" He demanded, well at least he was to the point. I marked the page I was on and put the book up, then set my bag and robe down. I then turned around and lifted the back of my shirt up, revealing the criss-crossing bands of blood and muscle and torn flesh. I knew from the heat on my back that the flesh that wasent barely hanging on was red and inflamed, I knew also from my studies that the cuts would have a pus in them. I lowered my shirt and turned back to face Snape.
"That was last week sir. It wont heal. Yesterday, one of my tormentors managed to corner me and I don't know how many ribs are injured or still even in place. Would you like to see the belt marks that line my stomache? Or perhaps the knife marks that line my legs beneath my pantyhose? Would you like to see my ribs and sternum from malnutrition. Or the fact that I have scars on my hands from fixing my own clothing in the middle of the night without light so that I have something that fits me to wear? I'm sure if I had some kind of real doctor look at my lungs they would find scars and sever damage from cleaning and being trapped and locked in rooms with no ventilation and harsh chemicals that should never be mixed made into a very colorful cocktail. Or you could question why all my nerves in my arms and legs are shot so that I can't feel heat or cold or pain from them. Or maybe the fact that my bones are lucky to look so normal considering the amount of times they have been broken and never set." I was in near tears by the time I had finished, and I bent forward and rested my hands on my knees so that I wouldn't sit down and make my back worse. Then I laughed.
"Would you care to explain what is so humorous?" Snape asked.
"If it was this bad for me, and I was in an orphanage who was told routinely that I was a freak who needed constant punishment in order to be 'cured' by my Aunt Petunia, I can only imagine how horrible it had to be for Harry, who had to live with Satan, his wife, and his oversized whale of a son." I said, then let out a pained laugh, that sounded more like a wheeze, and the first tears fell from my eyes in since I was four.
"Come, we're going to see Madam Pomferey about your injuries." Snape said. I painfully shrugged my shoulders and gathered my stuff. As we exited the office I pulled out my Herbology book again and continued reading it, taking careful note of the ingrediants that were called for in the poitions book. I had it finished when we arrived at the hospital wing. I decided not to start anything so that I could keep an eye on the nurse.
"Madam Pomferey, we have a severe case." Snape said loudly. A slightly rounded woman came around the corner and took a look at me. She cast a spell and a quill and parchment appeared, beginning to scribble down things. Curious, I asked about it.
"Oh, dearie, its a diagnostic charm. Here, like this." She said and she showed me how to do it. I took half a second to repeat the process in my mind first, then cast it directed at my left arm. The charm worked perfectly and fast.
"Like that?" I asked for confirmation.
"That's the best I have ever seen, how did you-?" she asked.
"Photographic memory, or something. Anything I see or read or hear I can repeat perfectly with perfect understanding and knowledge." I said hesitantly, as I had been beaten for revealing it before.
"Astounding." Snape said. I allowed myself a small smile. Madam Pomferey's list got longer and longer than any list I had ever seen. I doubted very much if that was a good thing. I figured that it would take a while so I pulled out my charms book. I began to flip through it, memorizing each page as I did so. Reading carefully when something caught my eyes. I then repeated the process with transfiguration, history, and the rest of my year one books. I was halfway through my year two books when Madam Pomferey spoke.
"Finally. Thirty pages, child you have had more injuries than a retiring auror."
"Who?" I asked Snape.
"A dark wizard fighter, like a muggle cop." he replied. Hmmm. Figured that it wasn't good.
"So now what?" I asked. Both adults looked to each other and had a look of deep thought. I rolled my eyes and went back to reading my year two standard books. I has started my year three standard potions book before they had come up with any solid ideas that would actually make sense, and they were still debating about it. A new thought occurred to me.
"Sir, how come all medicinal, or healing plants aren't combined in an all purpose potion? It would be incredibly useful for cases like myself, or when you don't have time to run a diagnostic spell. I mean, I understand that some plants would cancel each other out, but there has to be a way to block the cancelling properties of the plant to increase the effectiveness of the potion." hmm, I thought, if I make it out of here tonight then I will devote my extra time this year to creating an effective poition of such properties. It could cover different stages, such as innocent to mild, mild to dangerous, dangerous to severe, severe to deadly. Then you would only have to judge the status of the injury. It was a curious thought that would do the world a great deal of good. I puled out some parchment and did a hover charm on it, and a quill and ink bottle and did a charm on it to write down my thoughts automatically in an organized fashion, as well as anything I or another said that would be relevent to the topic of the potion. It would be nice to have a potion that inhibited the abuse factor in others, but for this year I would work on healing, then next year I would work on inhibiting. The quill made that a side not in the margins. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of potions and healing magic. I went to my potions books and herbology books and cast a spell that would highlight anything with the reference of healing. I thought again and did the same to my charms books as well.
I yawned and looked at the clock on the wall. Professor Snape looked as well. It was past midnight and I had my first class with him in the morning. I shook my head to clear it of the Sandmans sand and try to focus on my healing process. I could feel myself drifting and sighed. I put a stasis spell on my current projects and packed them away. Madam Pomferey came to try to usher me to stay and sleep on the hospital bed for the night now that my back was healed, but I shook her off.
"Point me, Slytherin Common Room" I cast the spell and followed the arrow, slightly wobbly and leaning against the walls of the castle.
Severus Snape watched as his new snake-ling struggled to make it to her common room to sleep for a few hours before his class. When the little redhead turned the corner he faced Poppy Pomferey.
"She said that her brother, Harry Potter might be in a similar condition, you may want to have him come in before classes tomorrow to check him out. Let me know what you find."