Growing up at the Number 4 Privet Drive was not an experience that Dahlia Lily Potter would wish on anyone. It's especially an experience that she wished she could have kept from her baby brother and sister, Harry and Lettie.
Dahlia was three years old when her and Harry were left on their Aunt and Uncle's door step on a cold November night. She vaguely remembers being rudely awoken by an ungodly shriek, causing her to hold tighter to the one-year-old beside her. The sight of her aunt's blonde hair and long neck must have been much different than how her mum usually woke her. Though, there's not much she is able to remember of either of her parents now. She knows that Lily Potter had red hair and green eyes, only because of Aunt Petunia's scathing remarks that she 'looks just like her drunken wretch of a mother.' She vaguely remembers, or thinks she remembers, her mother's voice. The lullaby that she sings to Harry and Lettie must have come from somewhere. James Potter is even further from her subconscious' reach, though she thinks that Harry might look like him. She's pretty positive that their father wore glasses like Harry and Lettie.
In the beginning of her years at Privet Drive, Dahlia mourned and missed her parents desperately. She clung to every scrap of memory that she had of them. She would comfort Harry from nightmares of a 'green light' while wishing it was her mother there to comfort them both with a warm hug and a soft song. She remembered the green light too, but she also thought she remembered her mother screaming, her father yelling, a cackle, and children crying. She didn't like to remember the death of her parents, so she tried to push it from her mind as much as she was able. The nightmares that plagued Harry thankfully rarely came for her.
Dahlia was five when her world came crashing down for the second time in her short life. Her parents were alive. Alive and well, presumably. This was discovered on a freezing December morning when Aunt Petunia had Dahlia put out their used milk bottles. She was most surprised to find a newborn baby, her sister , on the front steps, green eyes and a tuft of raven hair looking out of a navy blanket.
Aunt Petunia had stared at the infant in horror for two straight minutes after Dahlia brought her in. She supposed her aunt must have felt as if she was experiencing Deja vu. Dahlia knew that she and her brother had been dropped off at the Dursleys' home in the exact same manner two years earlier.
The letter that accompanied Lettie provided her name, Violet Rose Potter, and detailed how (surprise!) Lily and James were not actually dead , but in hiding. Whatever that was supposed to mean. They had sent Dahlia and Harry to Aunt Petunia for their safety, so that they could be raised away from whatever had forced the Potters into hiding. Apparently, it was still not safe, so they were having to do the same to poor Lettie. Of course, they knew that Petunia Evans Dursley would raise her nieces and nephew well in the stead of her younger sister.
It's safe to say that Petunia and Vernon Dursley did not take well to the Potters foisting their 'unwanted brats' upon them. Lettie was thrown into the cupboard under the stairs along with her brother and sister, making what was already a tight fit even tighter. It's honestly a wonder that the three children managed to sleep somewhat comfortably in the cramped space, on a crib cot no less. If Dahlia didn't know any better, she would think that such a thing was only possible by magic. As it was, especially due to even the thought of magic being punished in their house, she knew that it must have only worked due to the small size of the three.
It was not an easy way for Dahlia to grow up, but it was the only way to keep her siblings safe. If not for Lettie and Harry, Dahlia would most likely have run away by the age of five. This was not something she could do though, not without putting her brother and sister in danger. So, Dahlia worked to keep Harry and Lettie safe and as happy as feasibly possible. If that meant wearing her cousin Dudley's cast offs and working grueling chores from wake until sleep, then that's what she would do.
Dahlia grew up weeding the garden with a babbling baby strapped to her front and a toddler looking for beetles at her feet. While she dusted and did the dishes, her siblings would sit close by on the floor and color. While she cooked breakfast, they would take turns learning to read. As long as her siblings were safe and cared for, Dahlia did whatever her Aunt and Uncle asked of her, so long as they left Lettie and Harry alone. Any punishment they saw to dole out, Dahlia took it with clenched teeth and the satisfaction that her brother and sister weren't the ones to take the hit or a week without meals.
At eleven years old, Dahlia was an older sister, a housekeeper, a gardener, a punching bag, and whatever else life seemed fit to throw at her. She took what she was given without complaint and gave more to Harry and Lettie than she kept for herself. The world would burn to ashes at her feet before she let anyone touch her children.
-
"Headmaster, I believe there's an issue with the Sapphire Quill." Mister Albus Dumbledore looks up from the missive he is currently writing to the Minister as Professor Minerva McGonagall storms into his office, a parchment envelope clutched tightly in one hand.
The headmaster sits back, hand reaching up to stroke the silver beard that extends past his waist. "That simply isn't possible, my dear. The Sapphire Quill was Enchanted by High Lady Rowena Raveclaw herself. It has not made a single mistake in the past thousand years of its use."
The stern looking witch before him slaps the parchment she is holding down on his desk, pointing to the name and address written on it. "Then, pray tell, how it has written a letter to Heiress Dahlia L. Potter? Heiress Potter died almost nine years ago, now. So, how exactly will she receive her Hogwarts letter?"
Surprise colors the elder wizard's face as he leans forward and takes the letter in hand, examining the Ravenclaw-Sapphire ink upon it.
Heiress Dahlia L. Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
"How-" Albus' voice trails off as he traces his fingers over the words. "The Cupboard Under the Stairs?"
"Exactly! If, by some miracle, Heiress Potter is alive, why is her letter addressed to there ? Why would it not be addressed to Potter Manor?"
"I do not know." The headmaster turns the envelope over and over in his hands, staring at it intently. "But I believe that is something we need to find out."
-
"Okay, Lettie, what's two added to four?" Dahlia stuck her trowel into the dirt, letting it free stand as she began to plant a new rose bush in the garden. Harry and Lettie sat a few feet behind her, trying to answer more questions correctly than the other. A small smile pulls at her lips as she hears her baby sister mumbling numbers.
"Um… six! Right Lia?" The smaller girl almost bounces where she is sitting in the grass as she answers.
"That's right, love." Dahlia swipes a stray strand of red hair from in front of her eyes where it must have escaped the bun that is piled atop her head. "Now, Harry, what's three multiplied by five?"
Her younger brother answers faster than their sister, always having been the best at math. "Fifteen!"
"Right again!" She grinning now as she packs soil around the base of the bush. "And Harry, love, don't stick your tongue out at Lettie, it's rather rude."
There's sputtering behind her. "But-but, you're not even looking!"
"Now Harold James, how many times must I explain that big sisters are born with a second set of eyes in the back of our heads?"
"Will I get more eyes, too, Lia?" Dahlia sits back on her heels, turning to look where her siblings are sprawled on the grass behind her.
"Maybe someday, Lettie." The little girl smiles widely before proceeding to stick her tongue out at Harry. "You're not to stick your tongue out at people either, Violet Rose." Dahlia wags a stern finger at the younger girl before turning back to the rose bush.
The children settle down as Dahlia takes up her trowel once more, preparing to plant the next bush. "Lettie, what's three added to seven?"
A few seconds of silence go by, not even the sound of Lettie's mumble counting to be heard. Furrowing her brows, Dahlia turns to her siblings. "Violet, I asked you-" She cuts herself off. Where, before, Harry and Lettie had been lounging on the lawn, they are now both on their feet, Lettie clutching tightly to their brother's hand. The two children stare over Dahlia's head, toward the front walk.
The older girl turns to see what has captured their attention before getting to her feet as well, keeping the trowel gripped in her hand. She steps in front of the younger children as she acknowledges the two strangers standing before them.
"Hello, may I help you?" The man and woman seem to be observing her just as closely as she is examining them. "I don't believe my aunt and uncle are expecting you, sir, ma'am."
The elder man is the one to finally speak. "No, I don't suppose they are." The group lapses into silence once more.
"Well, I don't believe that Aunt Petunia is available at the moment. It may be better for you to come back later." Personally, Dahlia thinks that it would be a hard won battle for Aunt Petunia to even allow such strangely dressed people in her house.
"We're actually here to speak with you, Heiress Potter." The dark haired woman speaks this time.
The three Potter children stand stock still for a moment, the only movement being when Lettie reaches out to grasp the back of Dahlia's too big tee shirt.
"I believe that you may have the wrong Potters, ma'am. I'm not an heiress." Dahlia finally finds her voice, adjusting her grip on the trowel.
The adults look surprised at her words. "You are an heiress, as the oldest child of Lord James and Lady Lily Potter, you are Heiress Potter." The man looks shocked at his own words even as he speaks them.
"I am not their child." The statement sounds more like a hiss as it leaves her lips. "If you have come on their behalf, you should leave now. I want nothing to do with the Potters."
The woman takes a step back at the vitriol in Dahlia's voice. The man seems to age suddenly, sadness covering his shock. "How long have you lived with your aunt and uncle, Heiress Potter?"
"My name is Dahlia." Bright green eyes glare at the pair of adults as she puts an arm out to stop her brother from stepping forward. "And my living arrangements are none of your business. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Lettie tightens her grip on Dahlia's shirt, burrowing into her back. Harry glares at the strangers from his older sister's side, still held back by her arm. Dahlia's eyes almost seem to glow as she stares at the old man, trying not to let his ridiculously long beard or outrageously colored robes distract her.
"I believe we have gotten off on the wrong foot, Dahlia. We are not here on your parents' behalf. We are here to offer you a place at our school." The odd man steps forward, causing the three Potters to take several steps back.
"What school? And why are you offering for me to go? I haven't applied anywhere." Confusion is clear in Dahlia's voice even as she maneuvers herself to be in front of Harry once more. "Who even are you?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are offering because you are a witch and now of the age to attend." The stern looking woman seems to have finally recovered from her shock. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts. This is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."
"There's no such thing as magic." The statement rolls off her tongue as easily as it does when Uncle Vernon makes her repeat such sentiments.
The children watch warily as a stick appears in the woman's hand. She waves toward the gardening that Dahlia abandoned. There are three identical inhales of breath as they watch the remaining three rose bushes plant themselves perfectly into the ground.
"How did you do that?" Harry speaks for the first time as Lettie peeks out from behind her big sister to look at the strange people (wizards?) before them.
"With magic, my boy." The headmaster answers, a twinkle forming in his blue eyes. "Now, who might these two be?"
Lettie steps fully out before Dahlia can stop her. "I'm Violet and this is Harold. Can we go to school too?"
Dahlia finally drops the trowel and tugs her sister back into her side as the professor and headmaster watch them curiously.
"You and Master Potter will receive your own invitations to attend Hogwarts in time, Lady Violet." Dumbledore nods to each child in turn.
"Harry and Lettie can't come with me?" The arm around her little sister tightens as she reaches for Harry with her free hand.
"They are not yet old enough to attend, Heiress Potter." Professor McGonagall almost seems empathetic to Dahlia's worries.
"Then I'm not going." It was as simple as that. Dahlia would not leave her siblings to face their relatives alone.
"Your siblings will join you at Hogwarts in their own time, Heiress Potter. You need to learn how to control your magic. You must be educated somehow."
"I'm not leaving them. Either they come with me or I don't go at all. I have to take care of them." The glare returns to Dahlia's eyes as she stares down the professor and headmaster.
"Lia, maybe you shou-"
"Absolutely not! I am not leaving you and Violet here without me, Harold." Harry scowls as he looks away, Dahlia's tone sharp.
"Surely your aunt and uncle will continue to care for them?" Headmaster Dumbledore speaks this time.
"They don't take care of them now, why would they suddenly step up when I'm gone?"
There's several moments of tense silence as the two groups stare at one another. The headmaster finally speaks again. "What if I am able to guarantee their safety while you are gone?"
"How could you possibly do that?"
"The Headmaster and I will speak with your relations. They will care and provide for Master Potter and Lady Violet in your absence. I will personally make sure they understand how necessary it is for you to attend school." Professor McGonagall stares at Dahlia intently. The two silently watch the other for several moments.
"If you are able to convince them of such, I will consider attending your school."
"I am sure that Professor McGonagall and myself will be successful, Heiress Potter." Dahlia's brow twitches in irritation at the title but she gives a nod.
The three children watch in trepidation as the witch and wizard move toward the house, entering without bothering to knock.
-
Everything seems to happen so fast after the appearance of Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore. The children had waited outside in the garden, listening to the shouting match that took place inside the house. Eventually, the Hogwarts' staff members had emerged and explained that they would be taking Dahlia shopping for her school supplies. The only reason Dahlia agreed to go with them was that Harry and Lettie were allowed to come too.
The bus ride, if one could call the purple, triple-decker vehicle such, was the most chaotic form of travel that the children have ever been on. The group of five stayed on the bottom level of the bus. The professor and headmaster sat in their own armchairs while the Potters clambered onto a bed together. Harry and Lettie clung to Dahlia as the bus drove erratically at impossible speeds.
They had almost been flung off of the bed as the vehicle slammed to a stop in front of a dingy looking pub, 'The Leaky Cauldron.' Headmaster Dumbledore had paid the driver and led them through the establishment, stopping out back as they came to a brick wall. Dahlia, still on edge with these strangers, had been prepared to grab her siblings and run when she felt as if they were being cornered behind the pub, but Professor McGonagall had simply taken her wand and tapped the bricks as if she did so everyday.
The wonder on Harry and Lettie's faces brought more joy to her than the view of the magical shopping center, 'Diagon Alley,' did. The three were led down the alley and to a tall marble building. It's here that Dahlia feels like she is going to lose the dry toast she had been allowed for breakfast. Standing in front of an open vault, the eldest Potter child stares at the piles of gold before her.
"This is Heiress Potter's trust vault. If you would like, we may also visit Master Potter and Lady Violet's vaults, they are a few down from this one." It takes Dahlia a few moments to answer the goblin ( a real life goblin ), Rackgard, that took them to her vault on what could only be compared to a rollercoaster.
"No, thank you, Master Teller Rackgard," Dahlia was quickly coming to learn that the Wizarding World revolved around titles and etiquette, "We will only be taking exactly what we need from this vault. I won't take any more of their money than I absolutely have to."
A hand landing on her shoulder stops her before she can enter the cavernous vault. A glance backwards shows that Professor McGonagall is the one who stopped her.
"This is not just Lord and Lady Potter's money, Heiress Potter. This is what all the generations before you have left so that you and your siblings, as the next generation of Potter's will be taken care of."
Her words make Dahlia pause, rolling the statements over in her mind. She shakes her head. "If this is how Potters treat their children, I have no desire to be a part of such a family."
Headmaster Dumbledore steps forward. "There is more than yourself to consider here, Heiress Potter. You have said that you are the only person that provides for Master Potter and Lady Violet. Your vaults will go a long way in bettering your situation." He continues when it becomes apparent that his words have had an effect. "Furthermore, as the eldest of your siblings, you will be their connection to Avalon and the first impression others have of them. While you will teach your siblings of our ways, it would help for them to not be seen so… Muggle."
Dahlia twists a hand in the hem of her large tee shirt self-consciously, examining the robes that the professors wear in comparison to Dudley's hand-me-downs that each Potter child dons. Taking a fortifying breath, she turns away from the adults.
She finally enters the vault, crimson velvet pouch in hand. Dahlia scoops a few stacks of coins into the bag that Rackgard had given her. It was only as they were turning to leave that she noticed a pedestal by the door, the only thing other than money in the vault. A hairbrush, equal in color to the crimson bag she holds, rests upon the pedestal. Feeling drawn to it, Dahlia picks it up. On the back of the brush is a golden dahlia, her namesake flower.
"What is this?" Her question is almost a whisper as she focuses on the brush in her hand, it almost seems to hum and vibrate in her grip.
"That is your hairbrush, Heiress Potter." Professor McGonagall steps forward, looking surprised at the sight of the brush. "Your father must have crafted it for you and left it here until you were able to retrieve it. You'll want to take it with you."
She stares at the brush, conflicted. While she wants nothing to do with the people who abandoned her and her siblings to their monstrous relatives, she's not sure that she is able to part herself from the brush now that she has found it.
McGonagall continues, this time speaking to Rackgard. "It seems that we will be visiting Master Potter and Lady Violet's vaults after all, Master Teller Rackgard."
The goblin nods and leads the way. It is no time at all before Lettie holds her own hairbrush, almost identical to Dahlia's if not for the golden violet on the back. Harry wears a gold signet ring on his right hand, a crimson stone sparkling in the middle.
Lettie and Harry ask question after question as the group moves through the shops. McGonagall and Dumbledore patiently answer every one, sometimes looking at Dahlia expectantly, as if waiting for her to ask questions of her own. She is mostly quiet as they complete their shopping, only speaking when Harry or Lettie ask her something or point out a new bit of magic that they see.
Dahlia and Professor McGonagall do have a small argument in 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions,' the first shop they visit. The new witch is adamant that she is only purchasing second hand robes, she has no need to waste money on new ones. The professor is just as adamant that Dahlia should use the money that has been set aside for her on robes that will last. It's several more shops before the two speak to one another once more. Dahlia does end up with new robes, including those for everyday wear as well. She was adamant that the only way she would agree would be that Harry and Lettie have several robes made. This was a compromise that McGonagall was more than willing to make, looking at their oversized clothing in disdain.
Books, telescope, cauldron, trunk, and everything else she needs are all bought new, much to Dahlia consternation and Professor McGonagall's satisfaction. The only things Dahlia does not argue over in some way are her potions kit (only because a used one does not come with all of the required ingredients), her wand (twelve and three quarter inches, hazel wood with a dragon heartstring core), an art set for Harry, and a stuffed unicorn that actually moves for Lettie. Though, upon seeing the joy that the items bring to her brother and sister, she ends up purchasing several more toys, books, and art supplies for them. Each of the three end up with magically extended trunks in order to properly store their new possessions away from their relatives' prying eyes.
Headmaster Dumbledore easily convinced her to purchase a wand new and not used. Apparently 'the wand chooses the wizard' and a used wand might not work well with her magic. The thought of her not being able to defend Harry and Lettie because her wand won't agree with her is what truly convinced Dahlia to visit Ollivanders.
The last shop on their list was 'Eeylops Owl Emporium.' Professor McGonagall insisted on purchasing an owl for her. Dahlia fought her tooth and nail against the gift until Dumbledore mentioned that owl post will be the only way to communicate with Lettie and Harry during the school year. It was only then that she relented and graciously accepted the bird. Their owl, because of course it was going to belong to Harry and Lettie just as much as it belonged to her, is a snowy owl. The most beautiful bird that Dahlia has ever seen. The owl seemed to take to Harry immediately, he was obviously going to be her favorite. She almost refused to leave her perch on the boy's shoulder to go into her cage.
Dahlia insists on paying the bus fare for her and her siblings on their return trip. She also tries to repay the headmaster for the trip to the Alley, but his calm refusals to take the coins only served to infuriate the redhead.
What would be one of the most memorable days of Dahlia's life ended on a sour note. Though, arriving home to Petunia Dursley's screeching voice would ruin anyone's day