Part 1 Myrtle Potter and the Family Legacy
By Admiral Albia

A/n; Just one thing; You must have read AT LEAST the first ten chapters of Raindrops and Rosebuds to understand this story!
Oh yeah. And, Myrtle is Harry's SISTER. Not daughter, SISTER! She just happens to be about fifteen years younger than him.

Disclaimer; I own nothing you recognize from the Harry Potter books. Nothing at all... *sobs* Not even Peeves! Ahem.

Chapter One; Prologue
Rita Skeeter's high heels clacked as she hurried down the street, shading her eyes from the bright summer sun. If she was lucky, the boy would have forgotten to look out for beetles. No, not boy - man, now.
A chittering noise made her look up, then smile in relief. It was just a grey squirrel - nothing to worry about.
She had reached the back of the house. She bent down and carefully placed the Listen'n'Learn Charm on herself, then prepared to transform...
"Who're you?" A voice asked. Damn! Rita looked up. A boy of about eleven was standing over her, green eyes puzzled. His black hair was two things; messy, and full of leaves and twigs. This coupled with the grass stains on his jeans, T-shirt and forearms suggested that he'd been crawling around in the long grass behind the house. Rita stood up hastily and as she did so, she realised that the boy was actually very short for his age.
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter. What's your name, young man?" The boy looked at her, then said in a voice which suggested he'd been through this many, many times before;
"Myrtle."

///
Holly came out of the tree, landed heavily and swore. The boys around her tittered.
"Go on then, laugh! But I got higher than any of you." She allowed herself a smirk. "Go and see - if you can."
"None of the boys could resist a challenge. They scrambled for for the tree en masse, several of them pushing the others out of the branches in the process.
None of them noticed a small red squirrel heading in the opposite direction, and still less noticed it land on Holly's shoulder and hide under her hair as she sauntered away.
///
"Are you going to try to find out where Harry Potter works so you can get an interview with him?" Myrtle asked, looking up at Rita.
"Yes, actually. Could you help me?" Myrtle paused.
"I can get you into the house."
"Really? How?"
"My full name," the girl said, "is Myrtle Potter."
///
Holly ducked down behind the fence and grinned at the squirrel as he popped out from the back of her neck.
"Thanks, Dale. They'll spend ages trying to get that high..."
No problem, the squirrel said. Now, where are my nuts? Holly sighed, reached into her jeans pocket and produced her nut-box, which she opened. Dale helped himself.
"We'd better get home," Holly said. "Mum'll want to make me look -" her voice changed suddenly into an almost perfect copy of her mother's "- presentable at least, dear, that means robes, Holly, robes!" Her voice flipped back. "I hate robes. You can't run in them, you can't climb in them, they look like a dress-"
Yeah, whatever. Dale looked up from his hazelnut feast. You'd better get moving then, hadn't you?
///
"HAAA-RRR-RYYY! Some reporter called Rita Skeeter's come to pry into your private life!" Myrtle turned a bright smile to Rita's horror-struck face. "I'm sorry, Miss Skeeter, we don't like reporters in this house. Would you kindly leaven now, before I set -" her face twisted briefly in concentration "- two owls, a grey squirrel and the family stag on you?"
"You don't have a squirrel or a stag in this house," Rita said. Something blew down her neck and she turned, very slowly.
A very large, incredibly dangerous-looking stag was looking at her calmly through strangely-marked eyes. The grey squirrel from the street was perched in the crook of one of its antlers.
Rita took one look at the thing and somehow, miraculously, remembered that she had an urgent appointment a very long way away. She didn't even look back.
Inside the kitchen, James Potter sat on the table and stared thoughtfully after the retreating reporter.
"There's something wrong with old Skeetwort," he sighed. "She's not half as pushy as she used to be..." he remembered something. "HARRY! You can come down now!" There was a soft pop, and the third member of the household appeared, grinning.
"Thanks."
"No problem," Myrtle said. "Dad, do I have to come to this Weasley thing?"
"If I had my way, no." James sighed. "Unfortunately, it's thy mother's will be done, and she's insisting. Sorry."
"Great," Myrtle muttered. "Just peachy. I could spend the evening with Holly backstage in Death Eating By Numbers, you know."
"Yeah, we know," Harry said. "You've only told us... oooh, about thirty times an hour. For the past week."
"And the only one of them who's anywhere near my age is that little b-"
"Language," James said automatically.
"-linking smartass-"
"Myrtle, will you please watch your bloody language? Your mother'll murder me."
"Language, father," Harry said. James stuck his tongue out at him.
"-Patricia-"
"We'd better go, Harry."
"Yeah."
"-and she's no fun at all. Hello? Helloo?" Myrtle groaned. Her father and brother had both gone to work. "I was ranting at them," she complained to the room's only remaining occupant.
True. The squirrel jumped to her shoulder and tugged on a piece of her hair teasingly. And now you've just got ol' Chip, here. So can we get back outside?
"The window's open," Myrtle said.
Uh-huh. And?
"And, I'm hungry. You go."
No.
"Why not?"
Because THERE'S A BLOODY OWL COMING AND IT DOESN'T KNOW ME! Chip ducked; Myrtle ducked; the owl dropped a letter on the kitchen table, executed a three-point turn, slightly stunning itself on the open pantry door in the process, and zoomed out of the window again, another letter magically appearing in its beak. Myrtle stared after it. It wasn't unusual for animals to ignore her, let alone nearly behead her; the owl must be very busy. Come to think of it, it wasn't usual for owls to appear n mid-moring, busy or no. Puzzled, she picked up the letter, which was addressed to her. She opened it. The words leapt out at her. Dear Miss Potter,
You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... There was only one reaction she could have. Myrtle punched the air and screamed, "YESSSS!"
///
"Hi, mum."
"Holly?" Emilily looked surprised. "I only just sent Felix out to get you."
That was good timing, then, Dale said with a smirk in his voice.
"Why?" Holly asked, purposely ignoring her familiar. It was rare for her mother to make her come home before lunch time.
"Ask your father, he's got them." Emilily nodded in the direction of the garden door, and Holly headed outside.
She found her father grooming the Hippogriff; he stopped as she approached.
"In a minute, Buckbeak. Holly, come here." Holly went, being careful to bow to Buckbeak first. Her father produced two envelopes, one yellowish and one dark grey. "Hogwarts or Durmstrang?" he asked bluntly. Holly blinked.
"What?"
"Hogwarts or Durmstrang?" he repeated, handing her the letters. "Your choice, Holly."
"You mean... you're letting me choose?"
"It's your life," he said simply. "Your choice."
"Hogwarts," Holly said firmly. Her father grinned.
"Really? Good for you. I'll do your replies as soon as I finish with Beaky-" the unicorn nudged him "-and Binary, I hadn't forgotten you, stop impaling me..." Binary snorted.
If you didn't pay so much attention to that wretched Hippogriff-
And which wretched Hippogriff would this be? Buckbeak inquired dangerously.
The one standing in front of me.
Oh yeah?
Yeah!
Yeah?
Yeah! You half-bird freak...
"Sirius, can't you stop them fighting?" Emilily cried from the house.
"And spoil their fun? Nah."
///
A/n; Next chapter it's `The Weasley Thing`, and Diagon Alley! Review please.
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