The days got colder and winter had officially hit the Burrow. The wind and rain had made it too dangerous to play Quidditch or to play outside and, as a result, everyone was squished inside the house. Violet, who had soon grown used to the freedom of the gardens, was not happy. Not at all.

With frequent lessons from Mr Lupin, she had slowly, haltingly, learnt to read. He had encouraged her often, praising her and how fast she was picking it up. Violet didn't feel like she was learning very fast, but how was she to know what was fast or not? All the Weasley's knew how to read and write, even if Ginny's letters were misspelt and large and Ron's reading was sometimes all muddled up. They just knew and Violet wanted to catch up to them all very quickly. So she did.

It was strange, learning to read. It wasn't as difficult as she assumed, it was almost like she had known how to do it, once before, and just needed to remind herself how it was done. Her letters definitely needed practice when she tried to write, but the quill was a clumsy instrument and was much too large for her very small hands.

There were two reasons she kept up her practice. The first being Bill. Bill had taken to writing to her every day. Every morning, a new owl would arrive bearing a quick note or, at the end of the week, a long, detailed letter with lots of pictures and colours. Some letters even had Violets pressed between the pages. He used very simple words, to start, and he wrote in big, neat letters so she could read along. He told her all about Hogwarts, about the teachers and the lessons and the castle. Bill also sent letters home for his brothers and sister and they too had agreed that they could hardly wait to go to Hogwarts.

The next reason she practiced her reading so diligently, perhaps the most pressing reason, was that she was learning lots of new information. Information that an adult hadn't told her, information that they withheld if they believed a little girl shouldn't know. Like the war, for example. Violet knew she had helped save everyone by defeating Voldemort when she was a baby. She had heard Ginny ask for the story before bed on many nights. But Violet didn't understand what the war was about. She didn't understand why the Dark Lord had come after her. Sure, she was meant to grow up to be a hero, but she didn't think she was one yet. She was Violet, just Violet.

Most of the autumn and winter had been spent hiding in Bill's room, with her new books that Mr Lupin had brought from the British Magical Library. Apparently, this was a place filled with nothing but books and Violet thought it would be amazing to visit. However, after the awful experience of going to the platform in September, Violet was in no rush to repeat an adventure outside of the Burrow.

Mr Lupin was a very clever man and he knew almost all the answers to her questions. He always looked tired and his robes were not the smartest, but she too had to wear second hand clothes and jumpers which used to be Ron's. She had even smuggled one of Bill's jumpers from when he was very small from Fred and George's cupboard and they hadn't asked for it back yet, which meant she could keep it. Right? She loved to sit up near the window, watching the rain and carefully balance a cup of tea between her hands, which were covered by the fraying sleeves of her new jumper. Mrs Molly would offer to cast a few spells to make it fit better, but Violet refused every time.

Lupiin would often find her there in the mornings and sit with her a while before calling down the others for morning lessons. They had a long break at noon for lunch and play, although Violet was pretty sure Lupin just wanted to chat with Mrs Molly. Then they'd pick up lessons again for a bit, which wasn't always reading and writing. Sometimes, Mr Lupin had them play games to help them remember certain things. Violet's favourite time, however, was when Mr Lupin let everyone else go and play and took her aside. It was then she could ask all the questions which were bubbling in her mind. Like why was the alphabet in order when words never use that order? Or why do the Ministry of Magic stop children from learning magic till Hogwarts?

That was the question Violet came up with most often. She had heard bits from their history lessons, smoothed over for an audience of children. However, Violet loved magic. She could feel her magic inside of her now, not like when she was at the Dursleys. She could feel it grow warm like the summer's sun against her skin when she was particularly happy, usually when Bill's letters arrived or she had solved a particularly hard puzzle or reading piece from Mr Lupin. She felt her magic grow cold and static when someone startled her too badly or they tried to touch her or yell out to her. She knew her magic was within her and she knew it could keep her safe.

So Violet was very disappointed she wasn't allowed a stick, a wand, to start practicing magic. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't practice without. After all, she had watched her magic play havoc with the living room quite often, much to Mrs Molly's frustration. She didn't need a stick to do magic. She was special, just like the feeling always said.

…

Molly Weasley was always busy. She was used to a loud and busy home, with children running to and from and there always being some argument or hurt feelings to soothe. There was always a lot of hungry mouths to feed and a lot of mucky clothes to wash. Even with magic, Molly Weasley was always busy.

When Albus Dumbledore had turned up on her doorstep on a cool Autumn night, she had been shocked. Curled up in his arms was a waif of a girl, pale and thin, with dark shadows beneath her closed eyes. Her hand was latched onto his beard and the small wrist looked like it could snap at any moment it was so frail. To say Molly Weasley was confused would be accurate. Opening her door wide, she had not even considered the strange circumstances of the headmaster's visit. As she heard more, she did not think it strange that the headmaster had chosen her family to look after the little Girl-Who-Lived. After all, they were a large and happy family, what better setting to raise a child.

She had not even thought about why it was only after obvious years of abuse did Dumbledore decide to change her living circumstance. He muggles must be very crafty indeed to get around the defences Albus Dumbledore put into place. I mean, of course the headmaster wouldn't leave the girl undefended.

So Molly Weasley, with a mother's heart, had agreed to raise this little girl alongside her own. Arthur had looked uncertain for a while, concerned about the issues that came with overcoming years, a near lifetime, of abuse. However, Molly was confident in her ability as a mother and would ensure that Violet Potter would prosper at the Burrow and grow into a good and brave Gryffindor, just like her parents.

She had carefully explained the circumstances of Violet's arrival to the children, the youngest being told a tale that her muggle relatives were not very nice and didn't like all of Violet's accidental magic, thinking it best to leave Violet with a magical family. The three oldest were told a version closer to the truth. They were told that Violet Potter was a very damaged little girl and it was there job to make her feel safe and make her part of the family. They were told about how she had been kept in a cupboard for most of her life with very little food. They were also told it was there responsibility to make sure Violet felt comfortable and if they needed to rein in the more … boisterous … children, then do so.

Molly was sure the Violet would fit right in after she got over her nerves. When she had woken up the next morning and discussed what had occurred, they had been shocked to find out she knew nothing about magic. Well, Molly had thought, that was about to change.

When they told her about her parents, carefully, mind you, she had saw the little girl crumble and wilt. Molly, with her mother's heart and family instinct, grabbed the girl into her arms. She was, of course, not expecting the violent magical backlash to occur. The damage was easily fixed, but Violet had never looked more startled. Surely the girl had displayed accidental magic before; Albus had explained the cause of Violet's removal to them and confirmed her magical ability was too dangerous to leave unchecked in the muggle world. Perhaps she had not experienced magic on that level. Molly, though, had taken it in her stride and continued to feed the girl up and always made herself available to her, if she ever needed anything.

It was a shock to everyone at how quickly the girl seemed to take to Bill. After all, Bill, who would turn 17 in the November, was the tallest of the Weasleys, so far, and cut an intimidating figure, being built solidly from years of quidditch. However, the little girl gave no thought to his size or strength and would follow him around for hours, asking any question that came to mind, usually in a very quiet whisper. Poor Ginny had seemed quite lost with her hero taking the attention from her favourite hero, but if she had to share, at least it was with Violet Potter.

Currently, Molly was stood in the doorway of Bill's bedroom, which was usually left empty during the term time. However, buried underneath a lumpy jumper and a quite large, patchwork quilt, was a little girl. With curl black hair, which made her stand out from her original brood, Violet Potter was easily noticed. No matter how quiet and still she was, you always found her at the corner of your eye. Yet, she had been missing for hours and Remus was due to arrive at any minute.

Watching the girl sleep, curled around a lopsided lion toy Molly had quickly knitted for her, Molly didn't have the heart to wake her. She knew she was missing her eldest, saw it in the lost way she wondered around the house, always climbing into 'his' seat at the dinner table before anyone else got a chance. The poor girl.

But then, the lump under the quilt moved a little. Thinking she was about to wake, Molly turned her thoughtful frown into a gentle smile. Yet, the girl moved some more and whispered to herself, giggling slightly. Molly rolled her eyes, having been fooled by the child's attempt to pretend sleep. About to knock on the door frame, Molly froze as she looked back toward the bed.

The quilt, it seemed, was … well, it was levitating. Which couldn't be right. And, as it moved away from the bed, Molly couldn't see Violet's body resting on the mattress. Yet she could still hear her muttering to herself. The moment passed quickly, watching the child and blanket stay raised in the air, until Violet sneezed. Dropping onto the bed suddenly, with the quilt falling atop of her, she bounced lightly and giggled to herself once more.

Molly, shocked at the display, didn't know what to do. She would send a letter to the headmaster and perhaps a quick word with Remus would help. Turning from the doorway, she looked back one last time at the lump in the middle of the bed and went back downstairs. Perhaps she could just call the children down for lessons instead of fetching them.

…

Remus Lupin considered himself to be very lucky compared to some Werewolves. He got to have an education at one of Europe's leading magical academies. He also had grown up with both his parents and their love and support, alongside a group of loyal friends. And even after the war, after the betrayal and grief, he was still alive and was currently employed by the headmaster of Hogwarts. And this was where Remus Lupin knew he was definitely lucky. He had been employed to teach and tutor James' and Lily's little girl, who he thought he would never see again.

Little was the right word, for when he came face to face with Violet, she was dwarfed by the eldest Weasley lad and hiding behind him. Wearing a faded quidditch jersey, one that was much too big and fell over her hands, Violet Potter looked especially tiny. Lupin's heart had melted then and there.

'She's quite delicate,' Molly had warned, 'had an awful experience with those muggles, and she startles so very easily. I'd avoid any physical contact unless she initiates it, which is unlikely. She also doesn't like shouting very much and if she needs some space, its best to just let her walk away.'

Remus, after hearing of her treatment at the Durselys, was furious. He was just glad that Professor Dumbledore had rescued her and allowed him the opportunity to watch her grow, as Lily and James would never get to do.

Their first lesson together was underwhelming. The girl had never attended a day of school in her life and what little she knew of the alphabet, she had learnt from over hearing her cousin and Aunt. That is not to say Violet Potter was stupid or slow. Violet was a very quick little girl, who caught on to things a lot faster than Remus thought was possible. She had caught up to Ron's ability within a month, although Ron himself was behind most of his age group.

When it came to numbers, Violet, was having the concept explained to her, could solve nearly every problem put in front of her. It was not quick, but she never gave up and Remus was convinced he saw Lily's stubborn gleam in her eye.

What was perhaps the most disconcerting part of meeting Violet Potter, was her looks. With Lily's eyes and James' curly and messy hair, she was undoubtedly her parent's child. However, there was definitely more than a fair share of Dorea Potter nee Black in Violet and by Merlin, she didn't half remind him of Sirius. His chest tightened in pain as he remembered his best friend, the coward who betrayed them to the Dark Lord. He still had a hard time getting his head around what had happened, still could hardly believe the Sirius he knew as a boy, who vehemently denied the Dark Arts, would turn on his friends, on his brother. Best to put those thoughts to the back of his mind. He was rotting in Azkaban, as he rightly deserved, and Remus was here with James' daughter, teaching her everything that her parents couldn't.

The months passed and Violet became more comfortable with Remus' presence. She was still very withdrawn, especially as Bill had left for Hogwarts, but that seemed to turn her mind and focus toward studying. He could hardly deny her knowledge and so tried to answer every question she asked. However, Violet Potter had a habit of asking particularly difficult questions.

…

'You knew my parents?' Violet asked. She was curious about Lily and James Potter, but she could not say she missed them. After all, she had no memory of them. It was a more academic curiosity, where had she come from? Was she special, like everyone said, was she a hero because they were too?

'I was good friend with both Lily and James,' Mr Lupin said. 'They were some of the best and bravest people knew.'

'Yes, but why?' She questioned, brow furrowed.

'I don't understand, Violet, why what?'

'Why were they brave? Why did they fight?'

Now, to anyone else, the answer would be easy. They were fighting a very bad man and for a safe world for their daughter to grow up in. However, Remus Lupin was no ordinary man. He was a man who had lost nearly everything in the war and all that remained of his friend's was Violet. Therefore, he gave the question more thought.

'Bravery, at the end of the day, is just facing your fears. I cannot possibly say why they were brave, perhaps they believed their fear of Lord Voldemort was easily overcome if they could help people and save lives. As for why they were fighting, Lord Voldemort …' Lupin had refused to call him You-Know-Who like the Weasleys did. In fact, it was Ginny who whispered his name in her ear before bed one night, just so she would know. '…Lord Voldemort was a very bad man who believed that magical children born from muggles were unworthy of magic. He believed, along with a lot of others, that muggles are inferior to wizards just because they don't have magic. Now Lily was a muggleborn, and very proud of her heritage too. She would always be in danger from Voldemort's forces.'

'So, she was forced to fight? If she didn't, they'd still come after her?' Violet asked.

'I suppose that has something to do with it. But Violet, you must know that both of your parents were very good people and they could not bear to see so many people hurt and killed. If they had the power and the ability to help, they felt they should use it.'

Violet did not agree with this premise. Not at all. In her experience, it was easier to hide away and stay unnoticed until the person doing the hurting sought you out.

'They were stupid', a quiet voice in the back of her mind spoke, 'to fight a war where they knew they could die, leaving you all alone'. Violet was getting upset now, her parents had obviously believed that fighting Lord Voldemort was important. But, in doing so, they risked leaving her behind. Yet they still fought.

'I'll never leave you, my special girl. I'm always here.'

Ever since Bill had left to Hogwarts and Violet had begun practicing her magic in secret, the feeling she had come to recognise and rely on had started speaking to her. She didn't know what it was, but it felt very much like her magic so she assumed it was that. After all, her magic would never leave, couldn't exist without her. And Violet knew from experience her magic wasn't just a tool to get things done. She could feel it as it worked. It felt what Violet felt, got angry and sad and scared. She was glad she had her magic, it kept her safe.

Lupin had carried on with more stories about her parents, but Violet wasn't listening. She was too busy thinking about her magic.

AN: So, what do we think? I'll be having a time skip for the next chapter, probably moving on to the summer before Ron and Violet begin Hogwarts.

Preview for the next chapter –

Violet Potter knew she was a very special little girl and she knew that Hogwarts was where she was meant to be. That didn't however, make her any less nervous the weeks before she was set to arrive. Bill had returned from his current job in Egypt to see her off, just as she had done for him all those years ago, Charlie was busy in Romania so she wouldn't see him before she left, but he had sent a letter and lovely little bracelet made of coloured strings to wish her luck.

After years of tutoring and frequent, if wary, trips to the library, Violet was more than prepared. Hogwarts had better watch out.