When Lia regained consciousness again, she felt like a princess sleeping in her royal palace. Her pillow was plush and fluffy, and under the silky soft duvet, she was sheltered, snug and safe. She wanted to curl up and lie there forever, for she felt sore all over, and her scar ached. Her scar. Lia's mind whirled as she recounted what had happened.
She shot up like a jet.
"Harry! Harry, are you alright?"
A hand was pressed against her chest, preventing her from rising. A sick feeling soared in her stomach. Where was she? What was happening? Had Voldemort managed to abduct her? Where was her brother?
She began to thrash against her kidnapper's grip and hollered, "HARRY!"
"Lia, Lia, my dear girl, please, calm down, breathe now. Or else, I'm afraid that Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out," Dumbledore's voice was soothing and she found herself relaxing.
"Oh," she said, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Professor Dumbledore, sir. I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was you." She paused. "Harry … is he?"
"He's awake, and should be with Hermione and Ron right now. All of them were very worried about you. Especially Harry, he was anxious when he woke up yesterday and you were still unconscious."
She sank back down into the pillows. "So they're okay? Good." She closed her eyes. "How long have I been out for, sir?"
"Four days, I believe."
"The stone." Lia's eyes widened and she sat back up. "Professor, it was Quirrell. It was Quirrell all along. That two-faced dirtbag! And the stone, it was in Harry's pocket! I … and my wand! Quirrell had my wand."
"It's quite alright. By the time, I arrived, I found that you had already burnt Quirrell until he was quite nearly ashes. It only took a simple spell for me to finish him off. The stone, has now been destroyed. I found your own wand nearby, deposited in some ashes." He pulled it out of his pocket and placed it into Lia's eagerly awaiting hands. She felt much poised and sure, now that she wasn't defenceless anymore.
"Sir," Lia asked, remembering what she had seen in the mirror. "In the mirror. The Mirror of Erised. I saw something."
Dumbledore nodded. "I believe that you saw your parents?"
Lia nodded. "It's true then? I'm really not a Potter, am I? But how? I don't understand. Why the lies? How could it be possible? Even my aunt, my uncle - no, Harry's aunt and uncle - must have lied to me."
Dumbledore sighed.
"Please, sir. He … he … Voldemort, he called me … Alyssia. Is that my real name?"
"No, no dear child." She relaxed, she much preferred 'Lia'. "Daliah is very much still what you were given by your parents. Alyssia. Alyssia was your mother's name."
"My mother's?" asked Lia, her mouth agape. She tested out the word, "Alyssia."
"Alyssia Agorios, she was called. She was a brave woman." He watched as Lia's brow furrowed. "In the final battle, before James and Lily Potter were murdered and Voldemort's reign was temporarily ended, she rebelled against him. Her aid made much difference to the wizarding community. She saved many lives."
Lia listened intently, hanging onto every word. "Why did you lie to me though? Why wasn't I told the truth when I got here? No, at that, why didn't Vernon and Petunia tell me anything? Do they still believe I'm actually the daughter of Lily Evans?"
"No, Daliah. Your aunt and uncle knew who your real parents were."
"Why take me in then?"
"It was difficult. At first. But I have found that I can be very persuasive. Mr and Mrs Dursley know how important you are, Daliah. They knew the consequences of what could have happened, had you not been taken in with Harry."
"Me?" Lia scoffed. "Important?"
"Your father was a dark wizard. He was … a dangerous man."
Lia's face paled in understanding. "So that's why you didn't tell me? You must not have wanted to freak me out too much until I was ready … I could have taken it though … I'm taking it okay now aren't I?"
She wasn't really. She heart was in knots and she thought her intestines were chewing at her stomach.
"But sir? If my mother was as great a woman as you say? How could she have fallen in love with him?" Her brain felt as if it were bursting, as if the reality of her world was crashing down. "How could I have been born?"
"He was not always like that, Lia. Once he was young, only a few years older than you. And I truly believe that he loved your mother then. But you must understand that people are not rocks, we are not set in stone. Men can change, hearts can wane and ebb, and those who are lost can often find it easy to give in to their deepest darkest desires. I do not believe that anyone is ever born evil. But evil is infectious, and sometimes it is easier to seek refuge in the darkness, than to bear the light."
"My father. What was his name?"
"I do not think you truly want the answer to that question, Lia. Not today at least. It is an answer that we must save for another day … I know you hate to hear this … but when you are ready, you will now."
"When I'm ready? … I … I'm ready now." At Dumbledore's gaze, Lia's face fell.
"Okay," she said. "Maybe I'm not ready. Maybe I'm scared. Maybe I'm weak. But you'll tell me won't you, tell me someday?"
Dumbledore nodded. Lia knew that was the most she would be able to get out of him regarding that subject.
However, she was still not entirely mollified.
"Professor, do you know the room with the twin fires? After Harry left, well, there wasn't enough potion in the bottle. But I knew I had to go though the black flame. It was imperative. I tried the Gemino Curse at first," said Lia. "It worked … sort of at least. The bottle filled up with liquid, but I knew it wasn't right. It wasn't the same as the potion Harry took. It was lighter, more viscous." She snorted. "But Harry's my ... he's my ... okay maybe we're not related by blood ... but he's my brother, and I guess I must be just as foolish as him. I look the potion. It tasted funny and I certainly didn't feel icy."
"That would be because the concoction was pumpkin juice mixed in with lemonade, if my memory is correct. A bit of a funny trick, Severus can be such a comic man."
"It didn't burn me though. I mean, I knew I would be fine, walking through the fires. Gut instinct, I guess? It was so silly of me, now that I think of it. I could have died. I should have died. I should have suffered Quirrell's fate."
Dumbledore paused, as if considering her words. "Lia, you are the product of a powerful witch and a powerful wizard. I suspect that you have a particular affinity for fire, inherited from your mother. It is why you could almost finish Quirrell. And why you could walk through those flames unscathed."
"So I'm impervious to fire?"
"Perhaps. But I believe that it may be a skill that only shows itself in certain predicaments." He winked at her. "I would not go testing it if I were you."
"Then it's because of my mother, my genetics, that I was able to burn Quirrell? But what about when he touched my scar? He just lit up. I know I wasn't planning for it to happen. The thought never crossed my mind and I've never been able to do anything like it before. And what about Harry? Quirrell couldn't touch him either."
"Your mother and Lily Evans died to save you and Harry. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. The scar on your arm was first given to you as residue from a dark curse, a spell inflicted on you by Voldemort himself. He was after your mother and he thirsted for your power. When your mother would not give you up to him as a weapon, he drove his own dark magic into your soul.
"Alyssia died to save you from it, to allow you to maintain your innocence and purity. That sort of love, love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. It drove out Voldemort's evil. Inside of you, lies a protection formed by the purest magic. Love. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."
"It was my mother's love that saved me? Harry and I then … we're bound to Voldemort now aren't we? It's why our scars hurt so much this year. Because he was rising up and gaining power with Quirrell's help."
"Yes. It is of my understanding that on the night your mothers sacrificed themselves, you both attained a part of his power. You are indeed connected."
Lia looked troubled. "I don't think I understand, professor. Something just doesn't sound right. I feel like I'm missing something. Something important."
He looked grieved at that, his expression almost mimicking her own. "You will know in time, Lia." Then he reached his hand out to the table.
A glimmering necklace lay there, and he placed it lightly into Lia's open palms. She turned it over, examining it with a meticulous eye. The chain was fine and fashioned out of shining gold, it was long enough to rest on the skin just above her mid-sternum. What appeared to be an oval shaped jewel hung down off it, the outside adorned with a glistening yellowish-brown jewel. Lia peered closely at it.
"The gem is citrine," Dumbledore told her. "Hundreds of years ago, it was considered by the ancients to be able to protect the wearer from snake venom and evil thoughts. Now it is a symbol of success and prosperity. Some believe it to have healing properties."
"It's a beautiful necklace. No … not a necklace, a pendant. It's a locket isn't it? I can tell there's something inside. But sir," she'd already started trying to pry it apart with her nails, to no avail. "How do I open it?"
"The locket will open for you when you are ready."
Lia stared at him. She was a bit sick of hearing 'when you are ready'. Who knew how long that would take? Merlin, what if Dumbledore died before he could tell her what everything meant?
As if hearing her thoughts, the headmaster smiled, "Do not distress, Lia. I promise you that you will see what lies inside. The locket is enchanted to open when the time is right. It belonged to your mother. The necklace, I mean."
With those words, Lia froze. Now when she looked at the necklace she held in her hands, it suddenly became the most precious thing she had ever owned. The only object she had that had was her mother's. Gently pushing her hair away, she clasped it around her neck. As soon as it made contact with the bare skin there, she felt a comforting warmth, that filled her from head to toe. It was really as if her mother's love still lingered there.
"One more thing," said Dumbledore. "Agorios was your mother's surname. Potter, your brother's. It is up to you which one you take on now."
"I …" said Lia. "Agorios. Probably Agorios. I think my mother deserves to be remembered. She should have her legacy passed down. But, I think I'll talk to Harry first though. Can I leave now?"
"I suggest you speak to Madam Pomfrey." He checked the clock. "It is almost time for the end of year feast."
It had taken Lia about ten minutes of negotiating and pleading with Madam Pomfrey, before she realised that she was not getting anywhere. She had run around the room five times to show the healer that she was perfectly fine and bursting with energy, and pretended to cry at the thought of missing the end of year feast. It had not yet worked.
Eventually, Lia had just grabbed her wand, used an invisibility charm on herself, and snuck out. She was starving, and she was not going to miss what would probably be her last feast at Hogwarts until Second Year. But with the time it had taken her to wake up, talk to Dumbledore, brush her hair, try pointlessly to convince Madam Pomfrey, and sneak out - she was inevitably late to dinner.
As she walked in, the happily chattering voices died down into an eerie hush. It appeared that she was the last one to enter, and as she walked over to the Slytherin table, she saw that almost everyone had swung their heads around to gaze at her. Whispers were starting up. She glanced at the Gryffindor table. Harry gave her an almost apologetic look.
"Daliah Agorios," she heard a Hufflepuff whisper to her friend. "I always knew she wasn't a Potter. Doesn't look like Harry at all."
So everyone knew then. She sighed. Of course. She could bet her life that Dumbledore had told Harry, Harry had accidentally told some gossipy Gryffindor, and now the whole school knew that her parents weren't actually James and Lily Potter. Harry was lucky that she had decided to take on her mother's maiden name, or he would've been in deep trouble.
"She's a Slytherin," another voice murmured. "Why would she ever risk her life like that? It's unheard of."
She slid down into her seat at the table. Tracey looked like she would burst from holding in all the questions she was probably waiting to bombard Lia with. Fortunately, Dumbledore had arrived and the other girl was forced to wait until afterwards to interrogate Lia .
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...
"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has three hundred and eighty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and twenty- two."
Lia clapped her hands and cheered together with the rest of her house. Yes! Her first year at Hogwarts, and they were going to win the cup. She was so going to show off about it to Harry all summer long. He looked quite dejected, sitting there sadly, a couple tables down in Gryffindor. The green and silver decorations around the great wall were definitely a nice touch. She was thrilled, although Lia had been told that Slytherin had previously won the house cup every year for a long time.
Malfoy was banging his goblet against the table, which made him look even more daft than usual. She thought that he resembled a toddler throwing a tantrum. But, one out of happiness.
"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
Lia's smile faded. Uh oh. She could tell from the way Dumbledore kept smiling at the Gryffindor table, that something bad was coming.
"Ahem," said the headmaster. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes..." He gave fifty points to Ron, fifty to Hermione, sixty to her brother and ten to Neville.
"That's bullshit," Malfoy whispered. "He can't do that!" For once, Lia agreed with him.
"We're going to lose!" Nott said, looking dismayed. "To Gryffindor, at that! By sixty points. It's an embarrassment."
"It's not over yet," said Tracey, pointing at Lia. "You're all forgetting that we have our own little house celebrity."
Just as she finished saying that, the voices died down again, as Dumbledore raised up his hand, calling for silence.
"And finally, to Miss Daliah Agorius, for wit, talent and valour, I award Slytherin sixty house points."
Lia's eyes were wide. Sixty. So that meant that … oh … she didn't know whether to be pleased or frustrated. The hall was silent for a minute. It was as if the Gryffindors - who must have thought they'd won the house cup through some sudden stroke of chance - didn't know if they should cheer to be polite, or look disappointed. Her fellow Slytherins - who had been preparing themselves for second place - weren't sure either. They didn't know if it would be degrading for them to clap now. After all, they hadn't exactly won.
Slytherin had exactly tied with Gryffindor.
Four hundred and eighty-two points, to four hundred and eighty-two points. If felt like some sick joke. She bet that Dumbledore had planned out exactly how many points to give each one of them, so that the two houses would be equal.
Before she could blink again, the green draperies in the room changed, so that the lower half was now gold. The Slytherin serpent shrunk in size, to allow a Gryffindor lion to fit on the other side of it. A slow applause began in the hall, and exploded into a grudging clapping from all four houses. The Slytherins and Gryffindors all looked rather put off though. Snape and McGonagall were shaking hands, neither of them looking particularly pleased.
Theodore Nott walked over the Lia. He was the first to clap her on the back. "At least we haven't lost to the Gryffindors, thanks to you, right?" he murmured, looking a bit timid and self-conscious.
Lia grinned at him. "Honestly, we deserved that cup. Sixty points to Harry and me? And fifty to Ron and Hermione? I mean what is the message of this? Go out and risk your lives, children. It's okay. You can take over for the adults. If you die, at least you'll win your house some points! He's just about promoting youth suicide. And stupidity too."
Tracey laughed and hugged her. "Lia Agorios now, huh? I think Potter sounded better, to be honest, but it does suit you. And I know you want to find Harry. So don't forgot, I'm waiting for a long dashing description of everything that happened, when you come to the dorm tonight."
Harry spotted Lia walking toward the Gryffindor table and ran over to her. "Lia! I was wondering when you'd stop snoring … you looked so cute with drool dribbling out your mouth."
"Remember when I asked for your opinion? No? Me neither."
He smiled. "I just wanted to tell you, that even if you're not a Potter anymore, I still consider you to be my annoying younger sister."
"Younger sister?" Lia raised an eyebrow.
"Probably younger. That reminds me! You'll have to ask Dumbledore for your real birthday."
"Yeah, I guess ... I find that it's a bit of a relief knowing that we don't share DNA. I always wondered how I could be related to a moron."
"Lia," Harry's eyes were searching. "Honestly though. Are you all right? This would be a big shock. I'm sure no one wanted to lie to you, least of all Dumbledore."
"I'm fine … is it weird that I don't find it that surprising? I'm shocked sure, but I think I always knew inside that I wasn't James and Lily's daughter. Everything sort of makes more sense now doesn't it? Ha. I just realised." Lia laughed. "I'm not related to the Dursleys anymore!" She whooped in delight.
It wasn't long after that night before they were back on the Hogwarts Express, pulling into King's Cross Station again. Lia groaned at the thought of seeing Petunia and Vernon again.
"You must be Harry and Lia's family!" Mrs. Weasley said.
"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up boy, move girl, we haven't got all day." He walked away without them, while they struggled to pull their heavy suitcases off the train.
"Yuck," said Lia. "Is that really his face? Or did his neck just throw up?" She looked around the platform. "One second. I've got to say bye to Tracey, or she'll murder me."
When she walked back, Hermione asked her, "Is your uncle always like that?"
Lia nodded. "This is him being polite. He doesn't want to look bad when he's around all these people."
"Hope you have … er … a good holiday," she was still staring uncertainly after Vernon.
"Oh we will," an evil grin was on Harry's face.
"The Dursleys don't know we can't use magic at home ... Dudley's in for a bit of a treat this summer," Lia smirked.
It was a good life.