Corvus Potter had never been an object of interest to her aunt and uncle before.
To make matters worse, she had never been an object of interest to anyone before.
And now she was.
Corvie was making breakfast for her aunt and uncle on her cousin's birthday when she finally got out of the hell of a life that she lived in.
Corvie flipped a pancake into the air, dropping it on the floor. Her red hair fell over her shoulders and back, and her pale, fair skin gleamed in the sunlight.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. Corvie looked up in time to see Aunt Petunia opening the door–and going completely white.
"What–you said–not you!" she shrieked, trying to slam the door in someone's face. Corvie stepped forwards. "Is she here?" asked a man's voice, something about it made Corvie dislike the person immediately.
Corvie frowned. Then she stepped forwards. "If you're talking about me, then I suggest that you talk about me to my face," she snapped, wrenching the door open. A tall, black-haired man in a set of sweeping purple robes, along with a pair of glasses with circular frames, stood in the doorframe.
AUnt Petunia had had enough. "Fine! Get out! GET OUT!"
Hours later, Corvie stared up at the man who was supposed to be her father. "How the hell did you manage to ignore me for ten years?" she shot at him, as they walked through a place that he called "Diagon Alley."
Corvie watched, relishing as her father squirmed underneath his gender-fluid daughter's gaze. Corvie shifted, becoming male with messy red hair. He had already bought all of his school things, and was now heading to Hogwarts.
James explained. "It's…complicated," he said uncertainly. "Then explain it," his son snapped.
"You'll find out more about your brother, okay? Once the two of you get to know each other on the train, and you're both sorted into either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, then you'll learn more about what's going on.
"Why not Ravenclaw or Slytherin?" asked Corvie. In his own opinion, Corvie thought the Puffs were total pushovers, while the Gryffs were complete bastards.
"They have turned out the most Death Eaters," said James spitefully. "One of your professors, Severus Snape," he added, spitting out that name, "was a Death Eater."
"So? That doesn't condemn all of them," Corvie pointed out.
"The actions of the single often speak for the actions of the group," said James, keeping his temper down. Corvie rolled her eyes.
"I've told your brother about you," said James. "He'll find you. Make sure you associate yourself with the right sort of person," he said. Corvie nodded, and then boarded the train.