Hello and welcome to this new story! Before you begin, I thought it would be nice to give some information.
This is set after Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
This is a female harry, alternate universe fanfiction.
Warnings: This story will deal with abuse, PTSD, anxiety, and depression. If this is triggering to any of you, I suggesting taking great care xxxe
Now, on with the story!
It started like this: screaming and death and a flash of green light coupled with laughter filled with malice and hate.
It started like this: a girl who knew nothing outside of her aunt's shrieks and her uncle's fists and her cousin's hateful glares for the first ten years of her life.
If started like this: a stone that held immortality, a man whose fear of death contorted him so completely he became it.
It started like this: a chamber of secrets, an escaped prisoner, a deadly tournament, and a dark return.
It started like this: an archway in a vacant room whose murmurs and secrets and wisps of pearly white smoke grew more and more frantic, swirling together in a tumultuous storm of need.
It started like this: the twinkle of starts who witnessed a wrong that demanded to be balanced.
It started like this. It ended like this.
Harriet Potter of Number 4 Private Drive was most decidedly not having a good summer. Not only was she stuck in the confines of her childhood home after witnessing the return of one of the darkest wizards of all time, but she was also incredibly bored. It had been three weeks since the end of term and two since she had heard any news from her friends whose letters had been distinctly unhelpful in their vague tone. Not only that, but her days were filled with meaningless and distinctly undesirable chores that her aunt desperately fabricated to keep her from her "freakish nature".
An intense pang of hunger struck Harriet as she exhaustedly collapsed onto her bed. Her skin felt overheated and tender from gardening for hours on end with very little protection against the sun's harsh rays. This, she lamented, was one of the worst summers she had ever had.
The last rays of sunlight slowly fell away, leaving her in a quiet darkness that, rather than lull her into an uneasy sleep, seemed to suffocate her with its sharp fingers that clawed at her useless eyes and her useless face and her useless body. No, she was not going to get any sleep tonight.
A soft hoot sounded from the end of her bed, where Hedwig was perched in a cramped cage, her eyes staring intently at her with a sympathy that she expected from her friends after hearing about her rotten summer, not her owl.
"I'm alright girl, just tired," she tried to reassure, smiling softly at her companion.
Hedwig merely hooted again in a tone that sounded more like a huff of annoyance as she turned her head away. It appeared that she was not only able to scare away her friends this summer but also her owl. Great, just great.
Harriet sighed again, carefully shifting in a pointless attempt to avoid jostling her ribs as she tried to get comfortable. The night's silence pounded in her head like a living thing. Like blood and pain and memories and desire. It swelled in intensity, a symphony's finale, a deafening and pulsing sound.
Hang on, that was most decidedly not in her head Harriet thought as she carefully sat up in her bed, her hand grasping uselessly at her shoulder as it twinged painfully. What was that?
Hedwig hooted in distress as she flapped her wings uselessly in her cage. Something was very very wrong.
Voices could be heard, now, in frantic whispers of anger and concern from all around her. Harriet quickly grasped her wand as she looked around, desperately trying to find the source of that horrible, melancholy sound. Yet, the more her eyes feverishly scanned her room the more useless her attempts appeared as the darkness started to slink from the corners of her room like an animal approaching its prey.
"Balance, balance, balance we must have. A price is to be paid," a horrible voice seemed to hiss from her left ear, although Harriet couldn't tell if it was said aloud or in her head.
Harriett desperately tried to open her mouth, to shout a spell, any spell, but the darkness appeared to erupt from her mouth, stopping any sound that escaped her throat. It swirled, closely around her, wrapping round her eyes like a blindfold. She could no longer tell if she was awake or asleep, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The darkness was the same with her eyes open and closed.
"Balance, balance, balance we now have. The price is now paid."
Nausea and panic and fury and pain fought for dominance within her throat. She didn't know how much more of this horrible darkness she could take. The darkness thickened, becoming a viscous, syrupy substance that filled her lungs and her blood. It was infinite and never-ending. It was all that there ever was and all that would ever be. It was life and death and air and earth. It was infinite and finite, expansive and minute. It was here and it wasn't.
And then, light.
James Potter was truly, undeniably late. His morning had been hectic from the start, seeing as Harry had decided to flooed at four in the morning from a mission in the USA, frantically asking if veritiserum and the calming draught could be mixed together. From there, he had accidentally caught his breakfast on fire (much to the great exasperation of Lily), discovered that his only clean work robes were, in fact, dirty, and to round it all off, realised that they were out of floo powder to get to work. So, when he skidded into the offices forty five minutes late, his face flushed from running, he should not have all been surprised for another great shock.
Moody and an unspeakable were both waiting for him, stony faced and slightly pale. "About time you arrived, Potter," Moody exclaimed, grasping his shoulder none too gently to haul him from the offices. "Honestly, of all days to be late!"
James murmured half conceived apologies and excuses until Moody's stony face stopped him.
"Someone was found in the Death Chamber this morning."
"What?" James startled, staring incredulously at his boss. "How? That is one of the most secure rooms in the whole of the ministry."
The unspeakable stopped in front of them abruptly, in front of the interrogation rooms, turning to face him gravely. "That's what we want to know". She then casually wave her wand in front of the door to gain entrance, followed by Moody and, after a moment's consideration, James.
Before him, through the one way wall that Lily remarked closely mimicked the muggle's one-way mirrors, was a pale, skinny girl with wild black hair and wild green eyes that were scanning her surroundings feverishly. She seemed misplaced in the stark grey room that leeched colour from its surroundings.
"Who-" James started.
"She claims her name is Harriet Potter," the unspeakable remarked blandly, as if this situation occurred regularly. "She has refused to say anything else, though, and has proved to not only be uncooperative, but also quite hostile."
"We had to take her wand and use a sticking charm to keep her from ransacking the room," Moody added with an exasperated growl. "She's been here for going on four hours and has yet to give us any information. We thought, since you are known to handle children well in previous cases that you may have a better chance at getting through to her."
It was true. Over the years of working as an aurora, James had become fairly highly regarded in his handling of children in his cases. Lily claimed it was to do with "mothering" that he had shown for the Marauders throughout school, but James thought that it was more likely to do with the fact that he had a child of his own, and thus had ample experience in getting children to talk about things they didn't want to.
"I'll certainly give it a shot," said James, once again looking her over. The similarities to his own son were uncanny and, if James didn't know any better, would think that they were somehow related. But there was no way that she was his and she didn't look a day over thirteen whereas his parents had been dead for years.
He went to step into the room but was stopped by the hand of the unspeakable. "One more thing," she added, her resolve breaking slightly, "the wand that we apprehended is identical to your son's." With that, she quickly brandished the wand in question from the inside of her robes, allowing James to examine it carefully.
"How did she get-"
"It's not Potter's," Moody stated. "We already contacted him several hours ago and he has his wand with him."
Frowning slightly, James nodded. "Well, let's see if we can figure this whole thing out."
If he thought the girl was pale before, it was nothing compared to after she made eye contact with him. Before he had fully entered the room, her eyes had snapped towards him, and almost immediately afterwards, the colour fell from her face, making the bags under eyes appear like bruises.
James quickly went to sit on the opposite side of the table, thinking that she may be intimidated by his height. However, that seemed to do little to help as the perplexing girl feverishly gripped the sides of her chair as if she could vanish from existence is she clenched hard enough.
"Hullo," James greeted, trying to make his voice as calm and unconcerned as possible. "My name is James. I was wondering if I would ask you a couple questions."
The girl merely blinked blankly at him, her face alarmingly void of all panic that had been there seconds earlier.
"Don't worry, you're not in any kind of trouble," he added hastily in attempt to appease the small girl. "We just wanna know how you were able to get into that room that you woke up in and who we should contact to let them know where you are."
Again, the girl simply blinked.
"Your parents must be pretty worried about you being missing," James tried to coax but was stopped short by her flat, acidic tone.
"My parents are dead."
"Well, your guardian then. They must be alarmed to have you missing."
The girl merely gave a small, almost imperceptible huff.
James tried to switch tactics. "You said your name's Harriet Potter?"
No reply.
"It's quite funny you say such a thing, really, as I'm James Potter and I really wasn't aware of having a daughter. Or sister."
The girl's eyes immediately narrowed and she quickly shifted closer to feverishly inspect him. "It's quite funny," she mimicked, an undertone fury making her words sharp, "because I really wasn't aware of my dad being alive."
It was James turn to become speechless, only able to stare back at her in confusion.
She merely sighed in exasperation, roughly raking her hands through her hair. "You're supposed to be dead. No," she added hastily, "James Potter is dead. So who are you? A Death Eater?"
James brows furrowed together against his better judgement. "What on earth are you on about?"
"It really isn't that impressive," she continued, seemingly unaware of his interruption. "I know that my parents are dead so why the hell would you try to trick me?" She leaned forward again to look James directly in the eyes. "Well, it's not going to work. You can't trick me."
At this last statement, James realised how truly agitated the girl in front of him was. Despite her valiant effort at presenting a hostile front, James could see the undercurrent of anxiety in panic in the way her eyes fervently roamed the room and her hands grasped and released the chair in a silent desperation. James shifted forward in attempt to mimic her posture but didn't miss the flinch she made at his movement as she quickly retreated. "I don't know where you got that idea but I am very much alive. Look," he exclaimed, pinching his hand softly. "Solid and all. Most definitely not a ghost."
The girl- Harriet- snorted at this before once again narrowing her eyes. "If you are who you say you are- and I'm not believing for a second you are- then you would know what your animagus is."
His heart stuttered as he stared at her in shock. Nobody knew who his animagus was, besides his friends and Lily. How on earth had she known such as thing? But, he admitted begrudgingly, if he was to get her to talk, he would probably have to admit it. Even if Moody would be in an uproar at the admittance of one of his best aurors being an unregistered animagus.
"Stag," he stated levelly, simply.
Harriet started at this revelation, shifting uneasily. "I suppose lots of people would have figured that out. What's your nickname with your friends? What map did you guys create? What was the first detention you ever got? What…" With every question, her voice raised in pitch and intensity until she seemingly forced herself to stop, taking a deep, stuttering breath.
"Well," James started, his voice slightly tense, "I must admit, I'm a bit surprised with these questions. I thought I was questioning you?" He asked lightly in an attempt to gain control of the situation again.
She merely stared back at him, unimpressed by his evasion to the questions.
"Prongs, the Marauders Map, got my first detention for colouring my transfiguration teacher's hair to neon yellow. Now, " he quickly added when Harriet opened her mouth to question him more. "I do believe that no matter how many questions I answer, you aren't going to be believe I am who I say I am. Is that right?"
The girl paused in thought before hesitantly nodding.
"Okay, so, think of something that only I can do and I'll prove who I say I am."
The girl again nodded before hesitantly stating "Your patronus, do your patronus."
James sighed before quietly conjuring the stag, who leapt around the room in a flurry of pearl white.
The girl's eyes only seemed to furrow further as she started to agitatedly scratch at her arms. "H-how? W-what? I don't-"
"I understand," James started hesitantly "that you are rather confused. But so am I. You seem quite genuine towards the fact that you are Harriet Potter and that, if I'm right, James Potter is your father. Although, I am quite certain that I don't have a daughter. Only a son, and he's twenty-three years old."
"I-I don't…" she started but James quickly intercepted to stop her from becoming any more upset.
"It's okay, we'll figure this out. But to do so, I'm going to need your cooperation in telling me everything you can about how you got here, okay?"
The girl looked him up and down uneasily before stiffly nodding. "Okay."