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"How do people make it through life without a sister?" ~Sara Corpening

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Harry stared up at the imposing mansion behind the wrought-iron gates. He couldn't believe how it could be so much like a picture from a storybook, and yet be so beautiful at the same time. Though, he reflected, perhaps the storybook-like-ness was what made it so beautiful in the first page.

As he lifted a finger to press the magical buzzer, the gates opened. "Come on in, Potter," a voice chirped. Harry nodded at the speaker before walking up the lengthy, steep driveway.

The door opened as soon as Harry stepped onto the stoop, and he found himself flinching. Instead of a groveling house-elf or a sullen servant, he found himself facing a smiling Sawyer Stratton. Harry observed him silently. Those were his aunt's eyes, large and slanted, but silver. The first thing you noticed. That was his aunt's mouth, delicate, as if hinting at a delicate soul. Her aristocratic nose, though with a barely perceptible bump at the bridge; Harry suspected it came from a broken nose that hadn't been fixed perfectly. Harry didn't know Sienna Stratton very well, nor her family, but the thought of her cruel death stung. And what made it worse was this man- Harry had to admit, Sawyer was a good ten years older than himself- had been there at her death.

"Mum is waiting for you inside the parlor," he said, a faint accent barely perceptible. Harry nodded, following him through a door. Sitting in an armchair that looked uncomfortable, Sierra Stratton was reading a book. Harry only got a glimpse of a red cover before it was snapped shut, the owner standing up and offering a smile and a hand.

"Harry Potter."

"Mrs. Aden," he replied, nodding. He studied her, grey hairs mingling with the blonde. Large, oval silver eyes. Petite. Extremely so. Sierra Aden nee Stratton was only several inches over five feet. She didn't have any of her sister's slender beauty, being full-figured, but she still managed an air of elegance. Eyebrows barely furrowed, Harry wondered silently how the two could have been sisters.

"You've probably been told this before, but you look just like your father. Except for those eyes…it's been seventeen years since I saw those eyes." Her eyes peered into his, digging for the similarity between this young stranger and the little girl who had been like a sister to her. "Please, sit."

Harry sent an uncomfortable glance at the stiff armchair. Sierra Stratton saw the look and laughed.

"They just look like that. They're really quite comfy."

"Ah," Harry said. He could feel his cheeks start to burn. Had he forgotten how to speak? It was entirely possible. A week without anyone but Remus Lupin, who had been drawn into a vortex of guilt about a dead girl he had forgotten, was no company.

"You're probably wondering why I invited you here." The smile was disappearing. Harry wondered, vaguely, if he had disappointed her.

"Yes," he responded uncomfortably.

"Lily- you don't mind if I speak about her do you? No, well that's good- was Sienna's best mate. Those two were closer than actual blood. Don't get me wrong," she interjected hastily, "we loved each other, Sen and I. But I went to Hogwarts when she was two, and I married Scott after Hogwarts. I wasn't there most of her childhood. If I had known-" she broke off, eyeing Harry, "do you even care?"

"Yes!" he burst out. "I mean, yes. Knowing what she was like, i-it gives me information about my mum."

"I could just tell you about your mum."

Harry gazed at her, eyes imploring her to speak.

"Lily was bright. There was no other word for her. Not only in intelligence- she made everything a little brighter. And then there was her hair. That was bright. Too bad you didn't get it," she said, glancing at his hair, "it was beautiful. And the thing that kept her and my sister connected was their sheer contrast.

"You've seen pictures of my sister, right?" Harry nodded. "She was the spitting image of my mother. I've been told I'm beautiful- they were exquisite. Though my sister was considerably more slender, and a lot more taller- I'm afraid I inherited my mother's height- and incomparable. That's what we all thought." Sierra took a deep, calming breath. "But she made up for it. She was not perfect. She was relatively calm, compared to your mother's fiery temper- redheads are noted for it, aren't they?- but once she was mad- I'm not sure she every forgave. She would forget, but not forgive. It's a bad habit. There were little quirks that got straightened out once she got to Hogwarts- your father played a big part in straightening her and Lily's quirks. And yet we all spoiled her. But not in harmful ways- we just gave her the impression that there was no evil. Only love. People don't understand how harmful that is, how sheltered that is- you don't understand, do you?" she said suddenly. Harry glanced up, startled. She frowned, but continued, "She was my parent's darling. I was born when they were young. My parents, they spoiled her. But I've already told you that. What many people have forgotten was how most of my parents' money was to go to her- much of the properties, companies, bank vaults, everything- was hers. When I came of age, I told them I couldn't do it. I wanted to be an Auror. At age eight, she was brought into the study to be informed. If she said yes, everything would go to her. If she said no, I would still have to do some of it. Luckily for me, she said yes. Unfortunately for her. She should have said no.

"They came for her knowing there was no one to protect her. As luck would have it-" here Sierra's voice trembled ever so slightly, "my children were there with her. Alexis and Sawyer. They survived because she locked them up. Cast a silencing charm. The Dark Lord had no idea they were there. Odd isn't it? One of the most powerful wizards, and he couldn't tell… I think it was because he thought he was near the end. They murdered her brutally. It wasn't Aveda Kedavra that killed her; it was a knife."

Harry's head jerked up, disbelief stretched across his face and Sierra laughed mockingly, acknowledging it. "Yes, imagine the horror: Christmas Eve, you've all stepped out for a walk, to buy forgotten presents. You meet your parents at the gates. They're staring in horror at their home. You look up and notice your worst nightmares over the house. The Dark Mark. The terror you feel when you see that is indescribable. Worse than knowledge is not knowing. We raced inside, ignoring the Aurors who had just arrived. You dash in, the front door toppling when you touch it. Inside the family room, your beloved baby sister lying in her own pool of blood. There's fear on her face. Anger, too. Her eyes are wide.

"Maybe you've noticed- Sawyer has her eyes. When I saw those eyes, blank and staring. I stopped. My husband crashed into me. We both stood there in horror. My parents came in after us." she stopped, her eyes boring into Harry's. "Pray that you will never have the experiences of wondering if your child is dead or see them lying in their own blood on your marble floor. It destroyed them. Their precious baby, dead. All because her parents, and their parents, and their parents, and so on, had the grace to be wizards."

Harry shuddered. "You moved after that, right?"

She nodded slowly. "We couldn't stay here. It hurt too much. Y'know, I wonder, everyday, whether it is worse to lose someone without knowing them well, or to lose them after you've grown to know them and love them. In both cases, there is so much potential. But the one thing you've got to understand is that nothing can change. It's nice to think of how great your life could be with them here, but they're not going to come back. Never." her voice was bitter towards the end. Harry wondered how often she had wished her sister back. "And the worst part is, not only did he kill her, he killed my parents. I can't really forgive him that." She took another deep breath. "Which was why I invited you here. Thank you. You've destroyed the person who destroyed my life- and yours- so long ago. My most hated enemy. Well, except for those bloody competitors of mine," she said, cracking a smile.

Harry laughed politely. "No, it was good to hear. A catharsis, of sorts. I didn't realize how much she, Sienna, meant to you. Do your children remember her?"

"No. They don't. You know Sawyer. He's got that same air Sienna had. The one that makes you think they're a little too delicate? Well, trust me, they're not. Tougher than nails. He decided to take the family business up. Thank Merlin- I used to tear my hair out every time I had to balance the accounts!"

Harry glanced out the window; to his surprise, there were fiery red streaks across the sky. "It's late."

Sierra glanced outside. "It is. I apologize. Can I make it up to you by asking you to stay to dinner? I am a good cook, despite my bloodlines. Oh, you'll stay! That's great! Now we can talk about your mother, and your father I guess. Wonderful man, I must say…"

Harry sank contentedly into the armchair, smiling to himself as the blonde launched into a speech about one of the pranks he had pulled.

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"Sienna?"

"Harry?" Her voice was surprised, he mused. Very surprised.

"Enjoying Hogwarts?"

"I'm not sure yet. This boy made us late for our first class! Merlin, Lily was going bonkers! She…"

Harry smiled to himself as the first year chattered on about her first day of school.

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