A/N so there you have it folks the second part of this two shot. I believe that I like the first better, but this one turned out okay. Sorry if any of you didn't like how depressing this was, but I did worn you not to read it. If you like this you might like my other fics so check it, I'd also really appreciate it if you reviewed.

Lots of Love,

Appleeater123

p.s. I put this in the beginning, because if I put it at the end it kind of ruins the mood, so hope you like it!

Amalia, the girl who didn't make it- part 2

Harry looked at the photo and frowned to himself. Looking at the picture of the strange girl and his parents he felt a feeling of recognition in the back of his mind. He couldn't for the life of him figure out who the girl was, if he hadn't known better Harry would have thought that the girl was a relative of his.

But that was impossible, in every sense of the word. His parents had died when he was one and Remus and Sirius had never mentioned an older sibling.

Harry flipped the photo over and frowned as he saw hasty scrawl on the back in his mother's handwriting:

Amalia, Lily, and James Potter

June 6, 1991

Park besides Godric Hollow

His forehead crinkled in confusion. What the hell! He thought to himself. Making a fast decision Harry Potter grabbed his invisibility cloak and apparated out of 13 Grimuald Place, leaving abandoned boxes of photos that his godfather had had lying all over.

It hadn't just been the one photo of the strange girl, she was often featured in them. Many had Harry in them too even!

He apparated just outside of Hogwarts grounds, and quickly walked to the Headmistress's office. After the war Professor McGonagall had taken over Dumbledore's job. Harry heard that she was doing very well.

Even though he was headed towards her office Harry had not come to contact the Headmistress, instead he was going to get answers from Professor Dumbledore's portrait.

Harry quickly bypassed the gargoyles guarding the office and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the room was empty.

The portraits in the room started whispering as soon as he appeared in the office however he only spared a look for one, Dumbledore.

"Hello Dumbledore, who's this?" Harry didn't think shrinking around the matter would get them very far so he was strait to the point.

The wise face of Dumbledore gazed out of his portrait with a face that was creased in concern.

"Oh Harry, you found it," the portrait sighed, "I guess there's no easy way to say this, but Harry you had a sister."

"Had?" Harry's eyes narrowed, pinning the man in the portrait, "what do you mean 'I had a sister' I do not."

Dumbledore's face was compassionate, "Harry her name was Amalia, and well I placed her in an orphanage, you know, after your parents died. It didn't work out for her. She never got adopted and instead she was tossed from foster home to foster home. Eventually one of the people got drunk and in a rage killed her."

"I'm sorry." Harry heard Dumbledore say before the world got dizzy and he blacked out.

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Harry Potter had woken up eventually and when he did, it was with a lost look on his face as if he was still trying to comprehend what he had just heard. With a subdued voice Harry asked for directions to his sister's grave and quickly after gaining the information left the office and didn't look back.

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Harry dropped to his knees in front of a small little headstone that was completely covered in dirt. With shaking fingers he brushed off the layers of dirt and grime that covered it. When he saw the inscription tears welled in his eyes.

She was seven he thought only seven.

He laid the daffodils he had gotten in front of the grave. The dirt on the ground clung to the white petals where they touched the beaten earth. It left the pure white color of the daffodils muddy and brown.

It is hard to think that he'd had a sister at one point, a member of his family that he could've gotten to know.

In his mind he pictured himself and the girl walking by the lake at Hogwarts, they were laughing at a joke when she suddenly spun around and tagged his shoulder.

"Tag you're it!" She yelled, laughing and smiling before she took off. But that wonderful dream was not to be and neither were the others were she graduated from Hogwarts on a beautiful spring day, not the dream where she laughed at him and gave him advise about Ginny, or the one where she walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown towards some wonderful man.

Instead she was ripped away from him by a drunken man, and not allowed to live any more.

"Amalia," her name sounded in the graveyard, originating in his parched throat.

His tongue wet his dry lips and tasted the saltiness of his tears. By now his tears were streaming down his face and mixing in the dirt below.

He collapsed there, shaking and sobbing.

For the sister he never knew.

For a girl who never got to live.

For what was stolen from him, and would never be returned.

He curled up in a ball and beat his hands against the gravestone, trying to let his frustrations out.

"Why," he sobbed, "Why you?"

And he never got an answer to his question.

Amalia only got to live for seven years, a child forever, never to move on the adulthood. She left behind a brother, a brother who would have loved her unconditionally, but one she never got to meet.

Finally at last the wailing stopped and complete and utter silence engulfed the graveyard, it surrounded Harry.

Into this silence he whispered two last words,

"I'm sorry."