Chapter One- Memories
Harry Potter lay on the wet dirt. He could feel his heartbeat, its quick pulse shuddering his body. He could feel Ginny's warm weight next to him, her shuddering chest rising and falling. He pushed his blood-soaked hair out of his eyes, and stared ahead.
Voldemort was dead.
He crawled forward, scarcely being able to believe it. A mound of mud- soaked robes lay on the ground, and with shaking hands, Harry lifted them.
"Ginny," he said hoarsely. "Ginny, he's really-"
The last thing he remembered was an incantation being muttered. He slipped into darkness, his hand still clutching the robes.
*
Fourteen years later
*
Fourteen-year-old Alyson Potter sat at her desk, her quill scratching against a piece of parchment. The late afternoon sun bathed her room in a warm glow, and the air was filled with the scent of summer.
A sharp rap on the door jolted her from her daze, and she put down her quill.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened to reveal her cousin, Claire. The pretty strawberry blond gave Alyson a look of mock shock.
"Aly! What're you doing? It's the last day of summer! Are you mad?"
Alyson took off her reading glasses. "It's extra credit. You know how awful I am at History of Magic. This might help."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Aly, you couldn't be awful at a subject if you tried. You know it perfectly well. " She tugged on Alyson's thick brown hair, which was tied back with a red ribbon. "Daddy's doing some report for the Aurors, and he needs a break. We're going out for ice cream."
"Excellent!" Alyson got out of her chair, and reached for her cloak. She switched off the light in her room, and headed down the classy, oak staircase to the kitchen, Claire at her heels.
Her twelve-year-old cousin, Nick, sat at the television as if in a trance. Although his hands were tying his cloak, his eyes never left the football game he was watching. Ron sat beside him, tying his four-year-old daughter, Hannah's cloak, his eyes never leaving the screen.
"This thing is amazing!" Ron breathed. "Absolutely amazing!"
Claire and Alyson leaned against the table. "Daddy, we've had it for two years." Alyson said.
"It's amazing!" Ron said eagerly. "It really is!"
"Why are you writing a report for the Aurors Uncle Ron?" Alyson asked.
Ron sighed. "Some article about a strategy I used when I was an Auror. I'm just finished, but I needed a break before I crack down on my final lesson plans. Besides, it's the last day of summer." Ron had retired from the Aurors when Hannah was born, since there was no one to stay home with her. He was now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and a very popular one to boot.
Ron finished tying Hannah's cloak, and the children followed him out of the door. Claire and Alyson linked arms as they headed down the busy Hogsmeade sidewalk.
"I can't believe we're going to be fourth years," Claire said, excitedly. "Remember our sorting?"
Alyson grimaced. She had been so scared to be sorted, that she had thrown up all over the Entrance Hall floor. "I've been trying to forget that one."
The family entered Florean's(sp.?) . Nick boosted Hannah upon a spool, where she proceeded to spin herself in a circle.
"Don't spin too fast Nanners," Alyson said automatically. The small redhead gave her a grin. "Daddy I want cho-co-late."
Ron nodded at her, and returned shortly with their ice cream. A cheery song played in the background. The song stopped and Alyson froze when she heard the next words.
"The Wizarding World remembers two fallen heroes."
"No," Alyson thought. "No. Turn it off. Don't make them remember, please!"
The radio continued on, despite her pleas.
"Exactly fourteen years ago today, Harry and Virginia Potter, both twenty- three, went missing near London, England. After defeating Voldemort for the last and final time, the couple disappeared. Although authorities found no body, and continue small searches, the Potters are assumed dead. The WWN would like to dedicate the next song to the loved ones of Harry and Virginia Potter."
Alyson looked up at Ron. He was clutching his spoon so tight, she thought it might snap in his hand. He got up, paid for the ice cream, and motioned for the children to follow him. Alyson got up, feeling miserable. She had thought everyone would forget this year. She hadn't even gone downstairs, hoping to avoid the dead silences and stares.
When they got home, Ron locked himself in his room. Nick ushered Hannah away, and Alyson ran upstairs. She lay down on her bed, clutched her pillow, and tried not to cry.
"Aly?" She heard Claire's voice on the other side of the door. Alyson heard Claire turn the knob, and closed her eyes. She felt the bed move as Claire sat down, and felt her cousin's hand on her back.
"Shh, it's okay. Don't cry, Al."
Alyson raised her head, and looked into her cousin's bright blue eyes. "I was hoping it would be different this year."
"The awkward silences and the crying?"
Alyson nodded. "I hate it! Why does their have to be this stupid anniversary? Why does everyone have to think about it? Why can't-" Alyson stopped. The girls were silent for a minute, until Claire spoke up.
"Do you think they're still alive? You know, by any chance?"
"I don't know," Alyson said. "I mean, it'd be nice to have parents and all. But, but they're not my family. I have a family already. You, Nick, Hannah, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. I just wish we knew they were dead! Then we wouldn't spend our time wondering. I wish we just knew!"
The girls sat there for a couple minutes, Alyson crying into her pillow.
"Shh, Al, it's okay." Claire whispered. She wiped Alyson's tears. "Hey. Tell you what. Let's have a slumber party tonight. It's our last night of freedom. What do you say?"
Alyson smiled, and leaned against Claire's shoulder. "Thanks Caro."
*
The Weasley house was quiet. Alyson could hear Claire's heavy breathing next to her, and knew she should be getting some sleep herself.
She stroked the picture she held in her hands. Her parents smiled up at her. Her mother was holding an infant Alyson in her arms, and her father was smiling proudly next to her. Alyson gave a small smile, and felt a solitary tear fall down her cheek.
"Even though I never met you, I still love you," she whispered. "Good night."
She slipped the picture back underneath her pillow, and fell asleep.
Harry Potter lay on the wet dirt. He could feel his heartbeat, its quick pulse shuddering his body. He could feel Ginny's warm weight next to him, her shuddering chest rising and falling. He pushed his blood-soaked hair out of his eyes, and stared ahead.
Voldemort was dead.
He crawled forward, scarcely being able to believe it. A mound of mud- soaked robes lay on the ground, and with shaking hands, Harry lifted them.
"Ginny," he said hoarsely. "Ginny, he's really-"
The last thing he remembered was an incantation being muttered. He slipped into darkness, his hand still clutching the robes.
*
Fourteen years later
*
Fourteen-year-old Alyson Potter sat at her desk, her quill scratching against a piece of parchment. The late afternoon sun bathed her room in a warm glow, and the air was filled with the scent of summer.
A sharp rap on the door jolted her from her daze, and she put down her quill.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened to reveal her cousin, Claire. The pretty strawberry blond gave Alyson a look of mock shock.
"Aly! What're you doing? It's the last day of summer! Are you mad?"
Alyson took off her reading glasses. "It's extra credit. You know how awful I am at History of Magic. This might help."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Aly, you couldn't be awful at a subject if you tried. You know it perfectly well. " She tugged on Alyson's thick brown hair, which was tied back with a red ribbon. "Daddy's doing some report for the Aurors, and he needs a break. We're going out for ice cream."
"Excellent!" Alyson got out of her chair, and reached for her cloak. She switched off the light in her room, and headed down the classy, oak staircase to the kitchen, Claire at her heels.
Her twelve-year-old cousin, Nick, sat at the television as if in a trance. Although his hands were tying his cloak, his eyes never left the football game he was watching. Ron sat beside him, tying his four-year-old daughter, Hannah's cloak, his eyes never leaving the screen.
"This thing is amazing!" Ron breathed. "Absolutely amazing!"
Claire and Alyson leaned against the table. "Daddy, we've had it for two years." Alyson said.
"It's amazing!" Ron said eagerly. "It really is!"
"Why are you writing a report for the Aurors Uncle Ron?" Alyson asked.
Ron sighed. "Some article about a strategy I used when I was an Auror. I'm just finished, but I needed a break before I crack down on my final lesson plans. Besides, it's the last day of summer." Ron had retired from the Aurors when Hannah was born, since there was no one to stay home with her. He was now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and a very popular one to boot.
Ron finished tying Hannah's cloak, and the children followed him out of the door. Claire and Alyson linked arms as they headed down the busy Hogsmeade sidewalk.
"I can't believe we're going to be fourth years," Claire said, excitedly. "Remember our sorting?"
Alyson grimaced. She had been so scared to be sorted, that she had thrown up all over the Entrance Hall floor. "I've been trying to forget that one."
The family entered Florean's(sp.?) . Nick boosted Hannah upon a spool, where she proceeded to spin herself in a circle.
"Don't spin too fast Nanners," Alyson said automatically. The small redhead gave her a grin. "Daddy I want cho-co-late."
Ron nodded at her, and returned shortly with their ice cream. A cheery song played in the background. The song stopped and Alyson froze when she heard the next words.
"The Wizarding World remembers two fallen heroes."
"No," Alyson thought. "No. Turn it off. Don't make them remember, please!"
The radio continued on, despite her pleas.
"Exactly fourteen years ago today, Harry and Virginia Potter, both twenty- three, went missing near London, England. After defeating Voldemort for the last and final time, the couple disappeared. Although authorities found no body, and continue small searches, the Potters are assumed dead. The WWN would like to dedicate the next song to the loved ones of Harry and Virginia Potter."
Alyson looked up at Ron. He was clutching his spoon so tight, she thought it might snap in his hand. He got up, paid for the ice cream, and motioned for the children to follow him. Alyson got up, feeling miserable. She had thought everyone would forget this year. She hadn't even gone downstairs, hoping to avoid the dead silences and stares.
When they got home, Ron locked himself in his room. Nick ushered Hannah away, and Alyson ran upstairs. She lay down on her bed, clutched her pillow, and tried not to cry.
"Aly?" She heard Claire's voice on the other side of the door. Alyson heard Claire turn the knob, and closed her eyes. She felt the bed move as Claire sat down, and felt her cousin's hand on her back.
"Shh, it's okay. Don't cry, Al."
Alyson raised her head, and looked into her cousin's bright blue eyes. "I was hoping it would be different this year."
"The awkward silences and the crying?"
Alyson nodded. "I hate it! Why does their have to be this stupid anniversary? Why does everyone have to think about it? Why can't-" Alyson stopped. The girls were silent for a minute, until Claire spoke up.
"Do you think they're still alive? You know, by any chance?"
"I don't know," Alyson said. "I mean, it'd be nice to have parents and all. But, but they're not my family. I have a family already. You, Nick, Hannah, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. I just wish we knew they were dead! Then we wouldn't spend our time wondering. I wish we just knew!"
The girls sat there for a couple minutes, Alyson crying into her pillow.
"Shh, Al, it's okay." Claire whispered. She wiped Alyson's tears. "Hey. Tell you what. Let's have a slumber party tonight. It's our last night of freedom. What do you say?"
Alyson smiled, and leaned against Claire's shoulder. "Thanks Caro."
*
The Weasley house was quiet. Alyson could hear Claire's heavy breathing next to her, and knew she should be getting some sleep herself.
She stroked the picture she held in her hands. Her parents smiled up at her. Her mother was holding an infant Alyson in her arms, and her father was smiling proudly next to her. Alyson gave a small smile, and felt a solitary tear fall down her cheek.
"Even though I never met you, I still love you," she whispered. "Good night."
She slipped the picture back underneath her pillow, and fell asleep.