The Boy Who Wasn't – enchantress646
Summary:
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, graduates. Two years later, Harry again meets Ginny. Ginny still loves Harry, Ginny starts to date Harry, who then proposes months later to Ginny. They want a big family. They succeed on the first try. Four kids. Wait… let me correct myself. They have quadruplets. Three boys, and me, Lily, the boy who wasn't. Confused? That was the whole point.
CHAPTER I: As the Tree Grows
This is my life story and written by me. My name is Lily Trisana Potter. The last name makes a bit of an impression, doesn't it? In fact, it almost takes away the attention from my grandmother's name… which is also my own. The family name Potter belonged to the sole survivor of that fateful All Hallows Eve, until about some ten years and nine months ago… when Virginia Weasley became Virginia Weasley Potter, wife to Harry. My grandparents were thrilled of course, now that Harry was not just their son in their hearts, but now also by marriage. The whole redheaded clan showed up to the happy occasion. Harry or Dad as I like to call him, invited friends and all of Hogwarts to attend the event. The paparazzi were left standing around in Hogsmead, unwanted and uninvited. (To hell with the lot of them)!
Supposedly (I'm relying on mother's memories of this day… but their a bit… foggy from her feeling of euphoria throughout the entire event), Dad had never looked more handsome then he did that day (here I must add in… Dad couldn't get his hair to stay straight… but since it's not like it's never happened before… it's no big loss, am I correct?) and the very birds in the Forbidden Forest (they held the ceremony outside, much to the enjoyment of the Squid) sang to the wedding march. Bah! What a load of sentimental rubbish! I'm only even talking about the wedding because of what happened later at the reception… and since it would have been a bit strange to just skip the ceremony all together, I decided to just add in a bit for who ever wanted to know. Anyway, as I was saying, later at the reception Uncle Fred and Uncle George had wheeled in the wedding cake. Six layers, white as snow with red frosting roses. (Wish I could have had some… yummy). Anyway as soon as Dad and Mum cut the cake, it exploded. Scared Mum a bit I think… but she really shouldn't have worried… they did know enough not to ruin her special day and all. But anyway, after the sudden blast, little birds flew out of the cake (toys by the way… not real), and started singing "Harry and Ginny sitting in a tree…" (harmless really, I don't see why Nan separated them for the rest of the party). It was spectacular! (I've seen photos, and all the relatives ('cept Nan) found it really funny and love to tell us "youngsters" about it). That's when I first tried to get Mum to let me have private L.W.W. (Learning's of the Ways of the Weasleys) lessons with Uncle F and G… instead I got scrubbing the dishes for a week. Bleh- mothers! Damn me to hell if I ever become one of those when I grow up! So that idea gone I sulked about the house for a few days… at least… before Dad caved in. Instead of L.W.W lessons, I was taught in secret, (while Mum went shopping) about being a Marauder. And weighing the two now… Marauding is better. You never get caught because, even if they suspect, they never can find substantial evidence to bust you for the deed. Unless of course it's Mum and then evidence is thrown out the window to be replaced with maternal instincts…. Ugh, I can never win.
But I suppose you're wondering about the whole, boy who wasn't deal, aren't you? (You're just like Aunt Hermione. Nosy, nosy, nosy!) Well remember the thing about Mum and Dad having quadruplets? Well all four were identical. All the way down to that birthmark on their back, just above the left shoulder blade. Only thing is one was a girl. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Percy (another nosy one, peh!) both tried to explain with this weird thing about an X and Y chromosome and how it split and one of the four new thing's (I don't remember the technical term for it!!! Did you really think I was listening that closely?!) And that one of the four things somehow split without taking a Y chromosome and instead somehow created another X chromosome and so, there were three males and one female. Mum's answer was better. She wanted a daughter. That's why I'm the boy who wasn't. (And in case you're wondering, no, it's not a worldwide nickname, it's just a family thing… and even then I don't tolerate it).
But anyway about the three boys. Two words. Identical. Quidditch. Done. It's quidditch this and quidditch that. Day in day out with different plays, and then some kind of new move. Hell to that! I just like to play! So that's what we do. My brothers want to be chasers for the Gryffindor team. All of them. They don't care if the spots are already taken. Ty (…Tylor) has it all planed out. They'll smuggle in their brooms and do some sort of fantastic trick that will make McGonagal just beg them to become the starting chasers for the house team. Daaaaaaaaaad! Why did you have to tell them how you got on the team? I won't be able to do anything but watch them make fools of themselves for the whole first month of school now! I wonder if that will be the reason for their first detention. (Yes Mum, I know detention is bad… but we're not angels anymore. We stopped using diapers after our first year of life). Since we're on the topic of my brothers already, I should probably tell you something about them.
First off, there's James (well who didn't see that one coming?) oldest by forty-five whole seconds. Next comes Wesley (first muggle movie Mum ever saw with Dad. It's really quite good), then Tylor (as I said before, it's just Ty) and me. I'm the youngest by three whole fricken minutes! A girl, and the youngest! Mum sympathizes, but it's hard for her to understand because she was the youngest by more then a decade, not just one hundred and eighty seconds. It's easy to forget though, since we're all the same height and no one looks older then anyone else. But it's a bugger when you're trying to get to the shower. James is everything Granddad supposedly was. He's the grand-god-son of Uncle Sirius, and the fastest on broomstick between the guys. Out of all of us, Wesley the best "reader". This meaning, he'll actually read about a spell before he tries it out. Don't know why, but the spell comes out the same for all four of us. Nice talent that is, being able to do magic without thought… must be from Dad's side. Ty is the most energetic. He's here then there… and if you mention his name (and I'd swear his name has been changed to chocolate also on occasion) he automatically tunes into your conversation and the worst part is you don't know he's listening until it's too late… he's already pounced on you. Then me… hm. What to say? Maybe I really should have been a boy. I do everything my brothers do (except being a chaser… I have a different ball I fly after… must be from Dad again), and even give ideas for pranks and the like. My hair is just as red as theirs is… but my eyes are green. Like Dad's. You know Mum loved that. So technically the only difference is I'm a girl. I mean I could even pass for a boy! Stick legs and scrawny arms. Did I mention I'm naturally graceful? (No vase in our house is safe! Run for your life!) Mum says I'll grow out of it… but Mum says a lot of things. In fact, I think this is the time to stop. Next chapter for my life story: Mum, and How To Deal With Her.
Summary:
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, graduates. Two years later, Harry again meets Ginny. Ginny still loves Harry, Ginny starts to date Harry, who then proposes months later to Ginny. They want a big family. They succeed on the first try. Four kids. Wait… let me correct myself. They have quadruplets. Three boys, and me, Lily, the boy who wasn't. Confused? That was the whole point.
CHAPTER I: As the Tree Grows
This is my life story and written by me. My name is Lily Trisana Potter. The last name makes a bit of an impression, doesn't it? In fact, it almost takes away the attention from my grandmother's name… which is also my own. The family name Potter belonged to the sole survivor of that fateful All Hallows Eve, until about some ten years and nine months ago… when Virginia Weasley became Virginia Weasley Potter, wife to Harry. My grandparents were thrilled of course, now that Harry was not just their son in their hearts, but now also by marriage. The whole redheaded clan showed up to the happy occasion. Harry or Dad as I like to call him, invited friends and all of Hogwarts to attend the event. The paparazzi were left standing around in Hogsmead, unwanted and uninvited. (To hell with the lot of them)!
Supposedly (I'm relying on mother's memories of this day… but their a bit… foggy from her feeling of euphoria throughout the entire event), Dad had never looked more handsome then he did that day (here I must add in… Dad couldn't get his hair to stay straight… but since it's not like it's never happened before… it's no big loss, am I correct?) and the very birds in the Forbidden Forest (they held the ceremony outside, much to the enjoyment of the Squid) sang to the wedding march. Bah! What a load of sentimental rubbish! I'm only even talking about the wedding because of what happened later at the reception… and since it would have been a bit strange to just skip the ceremony all together, I decided to just add in a bit for who ever wanted to know. Anyway, as I was saying, later at the reception Uncle Fred and Uncle George had wheeled in the wedding cake. Six layers, white as snow with red frosting roses. (Wish I could have had some… yummy). Anyway as soon as Dad and Mum cut the cake, it exploded. Scared Mum a bit I think… but she really shouldn't have worried… they did know enough not to ruin her special day and all. But anyway, after the sudden blast, little birds flew out of the cake (toys by the way… not real), and started singing "Harry and Ginny sitting in a tree…" (harmless really, I don't see why Nan separated them for the rest of the party). It was spectacular! (I've seen photos, and all the relatives ('cept Nan) found it really funny and love to tell us "youngsters" about it). That's when I first tried to get Mum to let me have private L.W.W. (Learning's of the Ways of the Weasleys) lessons with Uncle F and G… instead I got scrubbing the dishes for a week. Bleh- mothers! Damn me to hell if I ever become one of those when I grow up! So that idea gone I sulked about the house for a few days… at least… before Dad caved in. Instead of L.W.W lessons, I was taught in secret, (while Mum went shopping) about being a Marauder. And weighing the two now… Marauding is better. You never get caught because, even if they suspect, they never can find substantial evidence to bust you for the deed. Unless of course it's Mum and then evidence is thrown out the window to be replaced with maternal instincts…. Ugh, I can never win.
But I suppose you're wondering about the whole, boy who wasn't deal, aren't you? (You're just like Aunt Hermione. Nosy, nosy, nosy!) Well remember the thing about Mum and Dad having quadruplets? Well all four were identical. All the way down to that birthmark on their back, just above the left shoulder blade. Only thing is one was a girl. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Percy (another nosy one, peh!) both tried to explain with this weird thing about an X and Y chromosome and how it split and one of the four new thing's (I don't remember the technical term for it!!! Did you really think I was listening that closely?!) And that one of the four things somehow split without taking a Y chromosome and instead somehow created another X chromosome and so, there were three males and one female. Mum's answer was better. She wanted a daughter. That's why I'm the boy who wasn't. (And in case you're wondering, no, it's not a worldwide nickname, it's just a family thing… and even then I don't tolerate it).
But anyway about the three boys. Two words. Identical. Quidditch. Done. It's quidditch this and quidditch that. Day in day out with different plays, and then some kind of new move. Hell to that! I just like to play! So that's what we do. My brothers want to be chasers for the Gryffindor team. All of them. They don't care if the spots are already taken. Ty (…Tylor) has it all planed out. They'll smuggle in their brooms and do some sort of fantastic trick that will make McGonagal just beg them to become the starting chasers for the house team. Daaaaaaaaaad! Why did you have to tell them how you got on the team? I won't be able to do anything but watch them make fools of themselves for the whole first month of school now! I wonder if that will be the reason for their first detention. (Yes Mum, I know detention is bad… but we're not angels anymore. We stopped using diapers after our first year of life). Since we're on the topic of my brothers already, I should probably tell you something about them.
First off, there's James (well who didn't see that one coming?) oldest by forty-five whole seconds. Next comes Wesley (first muggle movie Mum ever saw with Dad. It's really quite good), then Tylor (as I said before, it's just Ty) and me. I'm the youngest by three whole fricken minutes! A girl, and the youngest! Mum sympathizes, but it's hard for her to understand because she was the youngest by more then a decade, not just one hundred and eighty seconds. It's easy to forget though, since we're all the same height and no one looks older then anyone else. But it's a bugger when you're trying to get to the shower. James is everything Granddad supposedly was. He's the grand-god-son of Uncle Sirius, and the fastest on broomstick between the guys. Out of all of us, Wesley the best "reader". This meaning, he'll actually read about a spell before he tries it out. Don't know why, but the spell comes out the same for all four of us. Nice talent that is, being able to do magic without thought… must be from Dad's side. Ty is the most energetic. He's here then there… and if you mention his name (and I'd swear his name has been changed to chocolate also on occasion) he automatically tunes into your conversation and the worst part is you don't know he's listening until it's too late… he's already pounced on you. Then me… hm. What to say? Maybe I really should have been a boy. I do everything my brothers do (except being a chaser… I have a different ball I fly after… must be from Dad again), and even give ideas for pranks and the like. My hair is just as red as theirs is… but my eyes are green. Like Dad's. You know Mum loved that. So technically the only difference is I'm a girl. I mean I could even pass for a boy! Stick legs and scrawny arms. Did I mention I'm naturally graceful? (No vase in our house is safe! Run for your life!) Mum says I'll grow out of it… but Mum says a lot of things. In fact, I think this is the time to stop. Next chapter for my life story: Mum, and How To Deal With Her.