A/N: I do not own Harry Potter unfortunately. I wish I did but I don't. It's why we call this FANfiction.
•/•/•/•/•
1st September, 1991 (12th Life)
My name is Primrose Potter and I have lived 11 lives.
You're probably wondering how exactly this came to be. The truth is that I really don't know. Daphne and I have spent years researching theories and spells to try and explain the phenomenon but never found anything. What I do know however, is that every time we die, we restart our lives from September 1st 1991 with 11 journals detailing our past lives stuffed in a small Hello Kitty. 11 journals. One for every life. The Primrose Files.
It doesn't matter how we die. I alone have died by killing curse four times, fiendfyre twice, suicide once, a bullet two times, a car accident once, and a bomb once as well. Or at what age. At best, Daphne and I managed to survive to the age of 24. Sure we lost over half the Hogwarts students and staff but Daphne and I got engaged and adopted Addy so all in all it was pretty good, at least until we were hit by a car.
At worst, I died aged only eleven.
The problem with time travel is that every time you try to change things, no matter how small, it changes something else, which in turn changes something else. The butterfly effect. Daphne and I tried every time to find the right way of doing things but usually it only made things worse. Hunt horcruxes too early and Voldemort finds out and makes more, (lives 2,5 and 8). Steal the diary from Ginny and the timings of the petrifications change. And then they aren't petrifications but deaths, (life 3). All possible futures, every single one lived through by us.
•/•/•/•/•
1st September, 1991 (12th Life) - 5am
I woke up at 5am this morning, my Hello Kitty bag clutched to my chest. Looking up at the cobweb covered ceiling of the smallest bedroom, I let the memories of my newest death wash over me. This time it was fiendfyre. The seven of us - me, Daphne, Fred, Padma, Neville, Ginny and Ron - had been on a mission to free prisoners from Avery Manor when all the doors locked and it was set on fire. Smoke, thick and billowing, choked us and blinded us. Flames, tall and scorching, burnt our clothes and melted our skin.
There were no survivors.
Still, we could change that and hopefully everyone would survive this time. I chose to ignore the fact that we'd failed eleven times so far. It wasn't our fault really, it's not like we could choose what other people did but you'd think being armed with 86 years worth of future knowledge over 11 lives you'd be able to save everyone from death. It's hard not to blame yourself after you watch your friend die for the eleventh time. Somewhere along the way, you have to let go, after all, you'll always have another go if you mess up. That attitude probably isn't the best, especially paired with a reckless personality with no cares about if I die or not but I guess that's the consequence of never truly dying.
Sighing, I began to make a mental list of any differences I could already see compared to the last life -
1: I am in the smallest bedroom and not in a house on a rock.
2: My hair is red and curly, not black and straight.
3: Dudley is a boy and not a girl (this fact always seemed to alternate between lives).
This was the same routine I followed every time since my fourth life when I didn't realise that Ron was now Veronica and accidentally blurted out, "But you're a boy!"
This statement offended "Ronnie" quite a bit and resulted in us not becoming friends until third year. It also meant that from then on I would always create a list of what had changed so as to not make the same mistake again.
The files were Daphne's idea though. She was getting tired of having to keep track of fifty or so sheets of notes about the future and instead decided that we should write down everything we could remember per life so we didn't mix up the major points of each timeline.
This thought entering my head, I sighed again and pulled out this new notebook and pen and began to write:
"My name is Primrose Potter and I have lived 11 lives…"
•/•/•/•/•
1st September, 1991 (12th Life) - 7am
Two hours later I was broken out of my Occlumency meditation by a sharp rap at the door,
"Wake up. Wake up now."
Aunt Petunia's shrill voice pierced my thoughts and I stifled a groan. This was not one of the things she was looking forward to. The Dursleys were always cruel, no matter the life. The extent of their abuse varied quite dramatically though, ranging from simply spoiling Dudley and shoving me under the stairs to beating me so bad I almost died. That was the life I killed myself in case you haven't worked it out.
I got out of bed, pulled on some clothes and opened the door cautiously trying to get a feel of how bad this version of the Dursleys would be. Aunt Petunia pursed her lips angrily and grabbed me by the wrist, yanking me out of my room.
"Hurry up, we haven't got all day. Not if we're going to take you to that blasted sc-"
She stopped and shook her head before giving me a small shove at the top of the staircase, making me stumble down the first few steps.
"What are you waiting for?"
"Nothing Aunt Petunia," I replied wearily, trudging down the rest of the stairs and entering the kitchen. Sat at the table was my delightful cousin Dudley (note the sarcasm) and my dear Uncle Vernon (again with the sarcasm) whose eyes were glued to his newspaper.
Hearing my entrance, he grunted and said "Make me a full English breakfast and hurry up about it girl."
I rolled my eyes and turned on the stove; no matter what life I was in, this early morning exchange was pretty much the same each time.
After a few minutes of silence, broken only by the occasional conversation between the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon grunted once again and said, "Hurry up girl, are you stupid or what?"
"My name is Primrose, not girl," I replied, crossing my arms defiantly. This was the same thing I would do every timeline as a way of working out how bad the Dursleys would be. At best, Uncle Vernon would simply growl out some insult at me and return to the paper. At worst, well, let's just say it was good that Daphne and I had learnt wandless healing…
Uncle Vernon stood up and grabbed my wrist so hard I thought that the circulation might have been cut off. "Now you listen here girl and you listen carefully. I run this household and not you. Your place is in the kitchen and doing chores. Neither of those require you to be disrespectful of your betters. Now shut up and cook. Do you understand?"
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. 'Your betters' my arse. I was better than he could ever dream of being.
Uncle Vernon twisted my wrist, slammed it on the hot stove, ignoring my wimper of pain, and leaned in so close that I could see his bloody gums. "I said. Do. You. Understand?"
I nodded quickly and he released my hand, going back to his chair. Cradling my hand to my chest, I focused on using my magic core to slowly heal the burn, trying to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes.
'No,' I thought to myself, 'You've been through worse. You've died eleven times. You are stronger than this.'
Then again, the other injuries weren't from family members.
Family is a funny thing. Usually when people think of family, they think of people who love you unconditionally. People who love you no matter if you aren't the smartest or the kindest or the prettiest or the best. Love you don't have to earn. Usually.
'No, no. Don't think like that. Daphne is your family. You don't need them. They are nothing but your flesh and blood. Daphne is your family remember. Always and Always.'
I turned back to the now slightly burnt bacon and began to dish it out onto three plates. I only got some toast to eat.
The breakfast finally over, Aunt Petunia finally brought up the topic we all knew was coming - Hogwarts.
"We'll be taking you to Kings Cross. But only because we have to take Dudley to get his pig tail removed."
Because Heaven forbid they ever did something out of the kindness of their hearts.
"Once you're there, you're on your own. Now hurry up and get your things."
Two hours later, we arrived at Kings Cross Station. Pulling up, I got out of the car and grabbed my trunk and Hedwig's cage from the boot. Standing on the kerbside, I watched as Uncle Vernon reversed out of the parking space, not even checking to make sure that I was out of the way first. He probably didn't care.
'To whoever said that families always loved each other… you're wrong."
•/•/•/•/•
A/N: For anyone who's wondering what happened in the past lives I am starting a timeline below that I will update after every chapter or so…
Life 1:
~ Basically the same as the canon universe but Harry is a girl and died in the forbidden forest during the Battle of Hogwarts.
Life 2:
~ Primrose and Daphne started hunting Horcruxes too early. Voldemort found out and made more.
Life 3:
~ Primrose and Daphne stole the diary from Ginny too early. When Ginny got it back, it shifted the times of the attacks and resulted in deaths.
Life 4:
~ Ron was a girl called Veronica "Ronnie" Weasley.
Life 5:
~ Primrose and Daphne started hunting Horcruxes too early. Voldemort found out and made more.
Life 6:
~ The Dursleys were much more physical in their abuse towards Primrose which resulted in her suicide.
Life 7:
~ Primrose and Daphne got engaged and adopted Addy.
Life 8:
~ Primrose and Daphne started hunting Horcruxes too early. Voldemort found out and made more.
Life 9:
~ Primrose died aged only eleven.
Life 10:
Life 11:
~ Primrose and Daphne were killed by fiendfyre along with Fred, Padma, Neville, Ginny and Ron.