Chapter 1

My life was unremarkable.

Harry was a Wizard and I was not.

Being a twin was just a luck of the draw in the womb, and my life decided I didn't need Magic but Harry did. Of course, I knew about Magic. Harry would tell me all about it, about his adventures while he was away during the school year. I just attended a nearby secondary school and had ordinary classes.

At least, I wasn't alone during the school year, or really ever.

I don't remember a time when I was being followed by the Ghost. My first memories were of being comforted by him rather than my own family. The dark hood of his cloak obscured his face but I always caught a glimpse of a youthful glow, a set of amused silver eyes and a strong nose. But there wasn't a moment where I saw his actual face. I didn't need to. He was the best thing to happen to me.

I was barely a babe when I first met him, moving the mobile above my crib so it spun. It always distracted me, and the one night I so definitely needed the distraction, he spun it and laughed, enchanting me with the soft, warm sound so I wouldn't cry and alert the evil man who killed my parents.

And now I was nearing fifteen.

The Ghost was always there, in the background, or right in front of me, or ready to scare Petunia if she could have seen him. Muggles couldn't see Ghosts, but it didn't explain why Harry couldn't see him.

I had asked and the Ghost didn't know. None of us could help it if he didn't know. Everyone said that the Ghost was just my imaginary friend, so, since he refused to give me a name, I called him everything under the sun until he settled on a name.

Silver.

My Ghost's name was Silver, like his soft eyes and the shackles on his wrists.

Those shackles were another thing we didn't know about so we didn't comment on them. I didn't want to discuss them because I had asked once and received a cold and unwelcome turn of the lips before he smiled again. I didn't ask again.

I sat on the kitchen chair with Petunia standing next to me. She pulled my earlobe taunt and shoved a blunt stud earring into the previously healed hole. I hadn't worn earrings in a year so it didn't want to go in. It hurt as she clasped the back on before nodding to herself and doing the other one.

Tears welled up with the pain but Silver just raised a pale hand and wiped away the single tear that threatened to run down my cheek. He leaned over me, frowning as the hood shrouded his face in shadows but his eyes were bright in the darkness. He tutted at Petunia.

I couldn't speak to him when I was with people. It wasn't normal to see Ghosts, Silver explained, and Muggles were even more fearful of it.

"There's a primitive thing in a Muggle's mind," He would say when I asked. "Something stopping them from being able to see the truth. Even most Wixen can't see, unless we Ghosts want them to."

"Do you let me see you then?"

"No."

There was an unsteadiness to the word but he didn't add to it. We only had the conversation a few times, trying to figure out what it was about.

Oh, the things Silver told me. I never knew there was so much going on outside the normal world, the world Silver calls the Muggle world. Anyone without Magic was called a Muggle, unless you were born to a Magical family, and then you were a Squib. It was really fascinating and Silver liked to talk all about it when I would ask.

More often than not, he'd tell me a fairy tale story or two from the Wizarding world and I would fall asleep easily.

When Petunia grabbed me by the arm and shoved me away from the stool, Silver caught me, preventing me from tumbling on the long hems of my trousers. He touched the aching piercings on my lobe, warming them up with whatever Magic he had before they healed with no pain. He was used to healing all sorts of little injuries, especially grazed knees and elbows from when I fell from climbing trees.

Did he lecture me on that? Yes.

Did it ever stop me from climbing them? No.

"Go start hanging the laundry," Petunia said without looking at me.

I took the basket and went outside in the hot summer air. It was my only task today. Later, I would be instructed to help with dinner. I put the laundry up, pinning them into place before I went back inside to change.

It was too hot to wear long trousers so I put on a pair of shorts.

When Harry got caught listening to the news again, he walked out of the house. I caught up to him.

"They told you off again," I stated rather than ask as we began the trek towards the park.

He sighed, "Yeah. It's just… I want to know what's happening. The Daily Prophet hasn't been any help and my friends aren't replying to my letters."

"Can't be helped," I said. "Maybe they're busy? I don't know what to say, Harry."

"I know,"

We got to the locked park gate, climbed over it and walked across the parched grass. Getting to the swings, I sat down on them as Harry stood, glad to be out of the house.

Harry just told me about his troubles. That's all he could do when I wasn't part of his world. I was his sister, his twin, but we were different. We had the same black hair but mine could be tamed. Same eyes but I didn't need glasses, although I preferred to wear my circular sunglasses due to the bright lights of summer. He had a scar and I didn't.

We traded places, letting harry sit down as I sat down and leaned on one of the poles. I didn't know how long we stayed there but the sound of voices interrupted us. A group approached us, one singing a crude song and all of them were wheeling expensive racing bikes with them.

It was Dudley and his little group.

I could tell Harry was looking for a fight.

Harry almost bolted to catch up with them, determined. I followed not far behind.

He taunted Dudley after his friends left.

"Hey, Big D!"

Dudley turned and grunted, "Oh. It's you."

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" Harry smiled but it wasn't true.

"Shut it," Dudley turned away again.

"Cool name," He said, quickly falling in step beside our cousin. I walked a step behind them, already knowing where this was going. "But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."

"Harry, stop," I said. "You're just asking for more fucking trouble."

"Yeah, listen to Viktoria," Dudley said. "At least she's got the brains to know when to back down."

"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?"

"Shut your face."

"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'Popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums,' can I use them then?"

Dudley just grumbled about getting home before Petunia had a fit about where we went. We turned down an alleyway, a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was dark and empty as we went down it, our footsteps muffled between garage walls and a high fence.

He smirked, "Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?"

"What thing?" Harry asked.

"That — that thing you're hiding."

Harry grinned again. "Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud? But I suppose if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time. . . ."

He took his wand out, turning it in his hand to emphasise the fact he had it.

"Put it away," I hissed at him. "Someone could see it."

"Yeah, you're not allowed to use it," Dudley said. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freakish school you go to."

I walked faster at that point. I didn't want to hear any of that stuff. I knew too much already. Especially as a Squib, as Harry loved to remind me. I walked faster down the alleyway but stopped near the middle when my hair stood on its end.

Everything went black. There were no stars in the sky, no moon, and no light. It was like something was consuming it all, taking everything light and good. I felt cold. So cold. It was summer. It wasn't supposed to be cold. I really didn't like this.

"Harry…" I called out. "Did you do something?"

"No. Dudley, shut up!" Harry snapped when Dudley mumbled about something. "Don't go that way. Viktoria, it's near you!"

"What? What's near—"

I felt it.

The tight, all-consuming feeling of something trying to suck the life out of me.

Harry lit his wand up with Magic, illuminating the alleyway with ease.

I saw what was trying to eat me.

The hooded figure powered over me, floating closely as it leaned close. It didn't have feet or a face visible under the robes. It was dark, and looming, and dangerous.

Silver pulled me back, hissing into my ear, "Bring your hands up. Imagine a light, goodness, anything happy. Quickly!"

I tried but I couldn't stop looking at the creature before me. I felt silver's warm hands on my shoulders and I took a shuddering breath, raising my hands as I closed my eyes. I trusted Silver. It was the only reason I was doing this. If I couldn't trust him, I couldn't trust anyone.

I imagined all of the memories I had with Silver, with him helping me. I felt warmth in my hands, sudden, sharp burning coming from my fingertips before it disappeared.

I collapsed onto my knees, feeling myself being pulled away from wherever that creature was.

I looked back to see Dudley pulling me away, Harry had his wand out. My hands hurt as I stood up and when I looked at them, my fingertips were burnt, looking like I had put them in fire. They didn't hurt a lot but it was still noticeable.

"Get up," Harry said. "We need to go now. Dementors don't hunt alone."

New footsteps made him raise his wand up. The newcomer was Mrs Figg, our old neighbour. Harry was just about to put his wand away but she shrieked, telling him to keep it out.

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

"What?" Dudley began, helping me stand. "Your hands are fucked. They're burnt."

"Yeah, I know," I muttered, trying not to move them. From fingertip to second knuckle, my skin was brown and black, looking like I shoved them on the grill like sausages.

"He left!" Mrs Figg began with a scowl. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr Tibbies on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"

"You're a Witch?" Harry asked.

She gave him a look, "I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? He left you completely without cover when I warned him —"

"This bloke Mundungus has been following me? Hang on," Harry almost looked angry. "It was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!"

"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr Tibbies came and warned me. Let's go, all of you. What's Dumbledore going to say? You," She looked at Dudley, "Help her. Harry, keep your wand out. We need to go back to the house now. Don't put your wand away, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?"

Dudley didn't need to help me stand but he was rattled and obeyed Mrs Figgs' instructions.

)()()(

We got to the house in record time. Petunia opened the front door with a scowl.

"Diddy! About time too, I was getting quite—" She paused to look at us. "What on earth happened? Get inside, all three of you!"

We barely had time to get inside before a letter came from an owl. Petunia forced my hands under the tap, quickly grabbing the first aid kit to try and dab away at the burns. She just kept rambling on and on about how reckless I was but none of us said anything as Harry opened his letter.

"I've got to go to a hearing because of a bloody Lumos charm!" He said loudly. "Dammit."

Harry left the kitchen.

I could hear Vernon's shouts from the living room but Petunia just grumbled under her breath. She moved us over to the table, opening the burn lotion bottle before putting it on a cotton pad.

"What on earth happened?" She asked. "How did you burn your hands? Was it his stupid Magic?"

"No. I don't know. Everything happened so quickly. We were on our way back home. We went through an alleyway since it was shortcut and it was getting dark, and then…then everything went black," I quickly said, sucking a sharp breath in as the cold lotion worked against my burned fingers. "Harry started to panic. I didn't know what was happening and everything was getting cold. So—so unnaturally cold. Then he lit his wand up and we saw it."

"Saw what?"

"I don't know what it was. It was just wrong,"

I refused to tell her or anyone about Silver. It was dangerous. I didn't want to be labelled as a psycho or someone insane.

Vernon, Dudley and Harry came back into the kitchen, arguing.

"It was a Dementor," Harry said.

"De-De-whats?"

"De — mentors," He said. "One of them attacked us and Viktoria somehow repelled them. The only way to repel—"

It looked like Harry just figured out a long-lost puzzle, or got through a huge maze. His face dropped and then he looked angry.

Vernon went red with anger, "And what the ruddy hell are dementors?"

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," Petunia said lowly. "They're evil things, sucking the life out of you."

"How'd you know that?" Harry demanded.

Petunia looked reluctant to answer but took a moment to grab some bandages. She wrapped my fingers individually, just enough that they wouldn't get infected. With a fearful look to Vernon, she sat back and said, ""I heard that awful boy telling her about them—years ago."

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth and then closed it, struggling to talk before croaking out, "So…So they, er, they… they actually exist, do they, the dementy-whatsits?"

She nodded, finishing the last knot on the bandages before standing up to put the first aid kit away.

I could hear the owls from here, all sending down letters as Harry left to grab them.

"Well?" Vernon asked Harry when he came back. "What now? Have they sentenced you to anything? Do your lot have the death penalty?"

"I've got to go to a hearing,"

"And they'll sentence you there?"

"I suppose so."

Vernon scowled, "I won't give up hope, then. But what were dementoids doing in Little Whinging?"

Harry shrugged, putting his folded letters on the table, "Couldn't tell you. No idea."

Vernon looked at me to which I shrugged. I didn't know either. If anything, I knew less than even they did.

It took less than a moment before Vernon fully looked at Harry, pointing a finger accusingly.

"It's you," He said, stepping closer to Harry. "It's got something to do with you, boy, I know it. Why else would they turn up here? Why else would they be down that alleyway? You've got to be the only… the only. And now you've dragged your sister and Dudley into your games!"

"There's no game and I didn't do anything!"

"Those things guard some weirdo prison and they're after you, boy. You must've done something. That's it, isn't it?" He looked like he struck gold. "You're on the run from the law!"

Harry scoffed, "Of course, I'm not."

"Then what?"

He went quiet.

"Then. What?" Vernon repeated.

"He must have sent them," Harry muttered to himself.

"What's that? Who must have sent them?"

"Lord Voldemort," He sighed. "He's back."

"Back?" I asked, standing up. "You said he was gone, that he was dead. When did he come back?"

"During the last trial. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd freak out,"

"Of course I'd freak out," I snapped. "He wants to kill you, Harry. I'm allowed to be a little freaked out. He killed our parents."

"I know that,"

"Back?" Petunia asked. "He's back?"

"Yes," Harry said, talking directly to Petunia now. "He came back a month ago. I saw him."

Dudley walked over to his mother, letting her clutch his shoulder for some comfort. He knew the least about this out of all of us but even he looked a little worried even if he was confused.

"Hang on," Vernon looked from Petunia, to Harry and then to me.

"Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back, you say."

"Yes."

"The one who murdered your parents."

"Yes."

"And now he's sending dismembers after you?"

"Apparently," I mumbled.

Vernon nodded before he settled himself down and had the meanest sneer I had ever seen on him. "That settles it. You leave."

"What?" Harry looked confused.

"You heard me," Vernon stood taller. "Get of of this house. I should've done it years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home, puddings exploding, half the lounge destroyed, Dudley's tail, Marge bobbing around on the ceiling, and that flying Ford Anglia. Out. You've done it. You're history. You're not staying here if some loony's after you, you're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us, if you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it! OUT!"

Harry didn't move.

"You can't make him leave!" I shouted but Vernon gave me a heavy look. "That's child neglect."

Vernon waved his hands, "Get going! You were all keen to leave half an hour ago! I'm right behind you! Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place I don't know. Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage, we were too damn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it out of you like we did Viktoria, thought we could turn you normal, but you've been rotten from the beginning, and I've had enough—"

Another owl flew into the kitchen and went for Petunia, dropping the red letter on her head with a scream.

"You can open it if you like," Harry said grimly, "But I'll hear what it says anyway. That's a Howler."

She ignored Vernon's pleads to leave it alone, tearing it open before an awful voice filled the kitchen.

"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."

She turned paper white, sinking into her chair before her hands began to tremble and she swallowed loudly.

"The boy…the boy will have to stay, Vernon," She said weakly. "He has to. If we throw him out, the neighbours will talk. They'll ask awkward questions, they'll want to know where he's gone. We'll have to keep him."

As she spoke, Vernon looked less confident.

"You're to stay in your room while we take Viktoria to the hospital," She said. "You're not to leave the house. Now get to bed."

Harry nodded but asked, "Who was that Howler from?"

"Don't ask questions," She snapped as she stood and went to grab her coat.

Harry just huffed and left for his room.