Disclaimer/Author's Note: I own everyone in this story that you haven't
heard of. The rest belong to J.K. Rowling. So, you know, don't take them.
Can you believe that I went to BabyNames.com to name most of these new
characters? Anyway, it's obvious what this story is about. So, read,
review, and enjoy! Please.
The Child of He Who Lived
"There is a castle on a cloud
I like to go there in my sleep
Aren't any floors for me to sweep
Not in my castle on a cloud
There is a room that's full of toys
There are a hundred boys and girls
Nobody shouts or talks too loud
Not in my castle on a cloud
There is a lady, old and white
Holds me and sings a lullaby
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch
She says cosset
I love you very much
I know a place where no one's lost
I know a place where no one cries
Crying at all is not allowed
Not in my castle on a cloud."
The young girl laid in her bed, sprawled about, staring at her mirror, which hung on a closet door beside her bed. Above the top of while linen bed sheets was a small head, covered in sleek brown hair Bristin Potter's eyes, a peculiar mixture of green and brown, shined from a reflection of the moon. She cleared her throat after singing her usual "make-me-go-to- sleep" song and let out a rough sigh, and turned herself over to watch her Play poster. She could easily, much to her random disappointment, see her Hogwarts letter beneath the poster, her name and address twinkling.
"I don't want to go to Hogwarts," she muttered. Bristin turned onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. Slowly, her eyes flickered shut, and she was asleep for the night.
"Bristin, dear!"
A sharp rapping sounded through Bristin's room, waking her instantly. She sat upright, looking around groggily.
Hermione Potter sweetly rapped on her daughter's door. "Get up and dressed, honey. We're going to see Uncle Ron play!"
Hermione heard the quick shuffling of covers, and then the door was open. Bristin was standing there with a wide grin on her face. "Uncle Ron is playing today? Oh, excellent. Can I have breakfast first?" Bristin glanced up at her mother hopefully as her stomach lurched. Hermione smiled brightly, and fidgeted with one of her brown curls.
Hermione had grown into a gorgeous woman since her days at Hogwarts. She had let her bushy hair go immediately after her seventh year, and grown to adore her new chocolate curls that fell down her back.
"Of course - Harry!" Hermione scowled as her husband appeared from nowhere, and took Bristin in his arms. Harry had grown as well, with no apparent change besides his height. His hair was still impersonating a mop, and his eyes are as vibrant as ever. His large, round, fragile glasses were replaced with small, oval-shaped lenses.
"And to breakfast we go!" said Harry Potter playfully. He carried Bristin down the set of stairs, and ran into the kitchen with her. Hermione followed, muttering about how unsafe this was. Already sitting at a round table was an impatient nine year old replica of Harry. Noah Potter was the second Potter child, born with fine brown hair and diverse eyes. Every year brings one summer and one fall, and those seasons bring forth warm brown eyes for Noah. Though during winter, his eyes fade into a bright green, lasting until the end of spring. Besides that, he looked exactly like Harry.
"Mommy, the pan is refusing to serve breakfast until everyone sits down, so hurry!" Noah glared at a pan on the stove as he said this.
Hermione reached into the pockets of her jeans (she insisted that the family wear Muggle clothing around the house), and immediately waved her wand at the smoking skillet. The pan rose into the air, and hovered above the table as Harry deliberately trudged toward the table. It separated steaming, yellow eggs among the plates, and then turned to Hermione, the skillet producing a thin line that turned into a wide smile.
"Bacon, ma'am?" the pan asked Hermione. She nodded as she reached across the table for pepper.
"So, what's planned for today?" asked Harry, gobbling up his eggs.
"Well, we're going to see Ron play Quidditch, and then off to Diagon Alley to get all of Bristin's supplies. September first is close, honey!" she added to Bristin happily.
"Great," muttered Bristin, suddenly interested in the little egg she had left on her plate. She always gobbled her eggs up, and often regretted it when the topic of Hogwarts arose.
"Still don't want to go?" questioned Harry.
Bristin looked up. "Well, not that I don't want to go, it's just that - well, I've never been away from home without you guys, let alone for a whole year. That's not including going to Ahn's house, but it's going to be weird."
"Oh, you'll be fine," said Hermione brightly as the skillet poured bacon and sausages on their plates. "I was extremely nervous when I went to Hogwarts. And look, I ended up meeting your father and Ron, and had the time of my life!"
"And, besides," said Harry, "Anneliese will be there with you. You'll both be in Gryffindor for sure." Anneliese Weasley was Bristin's best friend.
"Yeah," said Bristin, perking up. "I guess it'll be okay. But seven years away from home is too long, Dad."
"You've got Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays to see us," said Noah unexpectedly. He turned to look at the stove to see if the pan was fixing seconds.
"And send us an owl whenever you want too," added Hermione.
"I won't be - "
"You'll be well known," Harry interrupted. "Your dad is Harry Potter, and your
mum is the new Minister of Magic!" Hermione went scarlet, and covered her face with her cup of orange juice as she drank it. "Don't be so shy, Herm," said Harry thickly.
"Oh, shut up, Harry," said Hermione, stifling back a laugh. "Bristin, go get dressed, honey. We need to get a move on. Lord knows how the first game of the year will turn out."
The Child of He Who Lived
"There is a castle on a cloud
I like to go there in my sleep
Aren't any floors for me to sweep
Not in my castle on a cloud
There is a room that's full of toys
There are a hundred boys and girls
Nobody shouts or talks too loud
Not in my castle on a cloud
There is a lady, old and white
Holds me and sings a lullaby
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch
She says cosset
I love you very much
I know a place where no one's lost
I know a place where no one cries
Crying at all is not allowed
Not in my castle on a cloud."
The young girl laid in her bed, sprawled about, staring at her mirror, which hung on a closet door beside her bed. Above the top of while linen bed sheets was a small head, covered in sleek brown hair Bristin Potter's eyes, a peculiar mixture of green and brown, shined from a reflection of the moon. She cleared her throat after singing her usual "make-me-go-to- sleep" song and let out a rough sigh, and turned herself over to watch her Play poster. She could easily, much to her random disappointment, see her Hogwarts letter beneath the poster, her name and address twinkling.
"I don't want to go to Hogwarts," she muttered. Bristin turned onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. Slowly, her eyes flickered shut, and she was asleep for the night.
"Bristin, dear!"
A sharp rapping sounded through Bristin's room, waking her instantly. She sat upright, looking around groggily.
Hermione Potter sweetly rapped on her daughter's door. "Get up and dressed, honey. We're going to see Uncle Ron play!"
Hermione heard the quick shuffling of covers, and then the door was open. Bristin was standing there with a wide grin on her face. "Uncle Ron is playing today? Oh, excellent. Can I have breakfast first?" Bristin glanced up at her mother hopefully as her stomach lurched. Hermione smiled brightly, and fidgeted with one of her brown curls.
Hermione had grown into a gorgeous woman since her days at Hogwarts. She had let her bushy hair go immediately after her seventh year, and grown to adore her new chocolate curls that fell down her back.
"Of course - Harry!" Hermione scowled as her husband appeared from nowhere, and took Bristin in his arms. Harry had grown as well, with no apparent change besides his height. His hair was still impersonating a mop, and his eyes are as vibrant as ever. His large, round, fragile glasses were replaced with small, oval-shaped lenses.
"And to breakfast we go!" said Harry Potter playfully. He carried Bristin down the set of stairs, and ran into the kitchen with her. Hermione followed, muttering about how unsafe this was. Already sitting at a round table was an impatient nine year old replica of Harry. Noah Potter was the second Potter child, born with fine brown hair and diverse eyes. Every year brings one summer and one fall, and those seasons bring forth warm brown eyes for Noah. Though during winter, his eyes fade into a bright green, lasting until the end of spring. Besides that, he looked exactly like Harry.
"Mommy, the pan is refusing to serve breakfast until everyone sits down, so hurry!" Noah glared at a pan on the stove as he said this.
Hermione reached into the pockets of her jeans (she insisted that the family wear Muggle clothing around the house), and immediately waved her wand at the smoking skillet. The pan rose into the air, and hovered above the table as Harry deliberately trudged toward the table. It separated steaming, yellow eggs among the plates, and then turned to Hermione, the skillet producing a thin line that turned into a wide smile.
"Bacon, ma'am?" the pan asked Hermione. She nodded as she reached across the table for pepper.
"So, what's planned for today?" asked Harry, gobbling up his eggs.
"Well, we're going to see Ron play Quidditch, and then off to Diagon Alley to get all of Bristin's supplies. September first is close, honey!" she added to Bristin happily.
"Great," muttered Bristin, suddenly interested in the little egg she had left on her plate. She always gobbled her eggs up, and often regretted it when the topic of Hogwarts arose.
"Still don't want to go?" questioned Harry.
Bristin looked up. "Well, not that I don't want to go, it's just that - well, I've never been away from home without you guys, let alone for a whole year. That's not including going to Ahn's house, but it's going to be weird."
"Oh, you'll be fine," said Hermione brightly as the skillet poured bacon and sausages on their plates. "I was extremely nervous when I went to Hogwarts. And look, I ended up meeting your father and Ron, and had the time of my life!"
"And, besides," said Harry, "Anneliese will be there with you. You'll both be in Gryffindor for sure." Anneliese Weasley was Bristin's best friend.
"Yeah," said Bristin, perking up. "I guess it'll be okay. But seven years away from home is too long, Dad."
"You've got Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays to see us," said Noah unexpectedly. He turned to look at the stove to see if the pan was fixing seconds.
"And send us an owl whenever you want too," added Hermione.
"I won't be - "
"You'll be well known," Harry interrupted. "Your dad is Harry Potter, and your
mum is the new Minister of Magic!" Hermione went scarlet, and covered her face with her cup of orange juice as she drank it. "Don't be so shy, Herm," said Harry thickly.
"Oh, shut up, Harry," said Hermione, stifling back a laugh. "Bristin, go get dressed, honey. We need to get a move on. Lord knows how the first game of the year will turn out."