Prologue:

16 YEARS AGO:

Melbourne, Australia

An old man wearing long, strange looking robes stood at the doorstep of the Murchinson's household. He took out a small, silver instrument, which was shaped like a cigarette lighter. Flicking up the top, he removed all the lights from the light posts on the street, just as he had an hour beforehand when he had delivered a baby boy, Harry Potter, to number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging. Harry was no ordinary boy. He had beaten the Dark Lord Voldemort and had come away with a single relic, a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead. Tragically, his parents had died trying to protect him.

The three remaining babies under his cloak had done the same, but Albus Dumbledore, the old man, had not said anything about it to anyone. He looked at the three babies sadly.

Christine Black, daughter of Sirius Black, a convicted murderer who had killed Peter Pettigrew.

Danielle Stimson, daughter of Davius Stimson, a famous wizard, who had so nobly fought against the Dark Lord for the Order of the Phoenix, but died battling.

And the last baby, Imogene Herald, daughter of Antovic Herald, another wizard who had attempted to beat Voldemort, but had come away second best, that is, dead.

But what was even more astonishing was that just two hours ago, Voldemort had tried to kill these babies but failed dismally.

These girls were never to lead normal lives.

They would grow up as witches but lived in a muggle world.

Sybill Trelawney, a gifted Seer told him that the girls would leave home at a legal age, but remain living together.

Placing the girls on the doorstep gently, Dumbledore reached into his robes pocket and pulled out the note he had written just a couple of minutes ago, and tucked it in their blanket.

'Goodbye, Danielle, Christine and Imogene. Until we meet again.' Said Dumbledore, and he disappeared into the dark, cold night.