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The Silent Life of Flora Jain Potter | ||||||
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Category: Pre-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger Genres: Drama Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Mental Abuse, Violence/Physical Abuse Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 6 Summary: When six years Flora Potter (Female Harry) is saved from the Dursleys it isn't without a high cost, Flora is left unable to speak. Will she ever speak again, or will Flora Jain Potter truly live a silent life. Hitcount: Story Total: 3098; Chapter Total: 276 Author's Notes: (Fem Harry x Ginny) please move on to the next story if your not comfortable with the pairing. |
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In the small Cornish town of Godric's Hollow nestled on Cornwall's northern coast upon the turbulent Irish sea. There was nothing strange or unusual about the dull grey October 31st of 1981 when our story starts. Found close to the centre of town was a small cottage where a small new family of three, the Potters, lived. Mrs. Potter was a young beautiful woman, with fair complexion and thick, dark red hair that fell to her shoulders in smooth silky waves; Her eyes bright emerald green almonds. Mr. Potter was a tall, thin young man with hazel eyes and unkempt jet black hair that stuck at the back. Mr. and Mrs. Potter's daughter, named Flora, showed nothing of her father as of yet, except for silky black hair, the rest looking like a near clone of her mother. The Potters lived very content lives and had everything and had ever wanted, however, they also carried a secret. Their worst fear would be that they would be found out. The Potters were not an ordinary family. Mrs. Potter and her daughter were both witches, whilst Mr. Potter was a wizard. There were a small number of witches and wizards in Godric's Hollow in their eyes keeping Cornish custom and tradition alive, The Potters didn't take part, nor did they ever leave the sanctuary of their small cottage and were invisible to the world, though their daughter sometimes believed otherwise. They were only ever visited by their closest friends, even then it was very seldom. That night Mrs. Potter had just managed to get a very restless Flora nestled and sleeping in her cot and returned back downstairs where Mr Potter could be found reading. ' I hope the war ends soon, James, I don't know if I can bear this for much longer.' Mrs. Potter said as she fell onto a couch with a deep sigh. Mr Potter closed his book and gently set it aside onto a table, moving to sit next to his wife, 'We'll get through this Lils and our daughter will be able to grow up safe with a million friends, without having to worry about any of this you know who business' Mrs. Potter nodded, her mind drifting to her parents who had passed away not long ago due an attack, Mr Potter had also lost his parents to the war leaving young Flora without grandparents. The first wizarding war had been raging since the early days of nineteen seventy, with casualties mounting high, and thus far held no forcible end, leaving howl families killed to extinction, or children parentless. A brief flashlight and pop, alerted the Potters to something going on outside, 'are you expecting anyone love?' Mrs Potter asked nervously, as Mr. Potter got up from the couch and walked carefully to the window moving the curtain just enough to see into the dark night outside. Soon his face became a ghostly white. 'Lily! It's him! Get Flora and flee, God damn it, Wormtail!' Mr Potter cried out 'I'll hold him off here as long as I can!' The mugs soon fell and shattered on to the floor, and Mrs Potter rushed back up to the stairs, she entered Flora's room just as the front door crashed open in a flash of red light that illuminated the darkened walls. Lily took her wand in her hand, holding over very much awake daughter, muttering quickly as much she could in a single breath. A brief flash of golden light signalled the end of the muttering, 'Step aside, girl, I'm not here for you,' a cruel man's voice said from the door away. 'I will not, you will have to kill me instead,' Lily replied, calmly… before with quick wand movement sent a nearby dresser hurtling at the man, who in turn destroyed it, turning into little more than kindling. 'It was a shame - Lord Potter had to be killed, he refused to see things as they ought to be, he would have made a fine Death-Eater, however my dear girl, I have no qualms ending you mud-blood… Avada Kedavra!' A bright flash of green lighting Flora cried out for her mother. As the light died out, Mrs Lily Potter was lifeless on the floor hers wand falling to the just under the cot where Flora stood holding herself up on the wood work. The man grind, his awful black teeth crooked and jaunted, ' now it's just you and me, Flora Jain Potter, you are predicted to become my equal, the one with the power to beast me… I'll have you know - no one is my equal, I'm immortal, I can not be killed. So ends the legacy of the Potter's… Avada Kedavra! Once more the room filled green light, followed by a Male strangled cry of excruciating pain, as the light once more dimmed and vanished Flora found herself in her cot alone… 'mamma?!' She cried out, repeating it, wanting to have her mother to wake up, hours past, with no reaction where Flora cried out crying for her mother and father. Flora has cried herself hoarse, when what appeared to be a giant entered the small room, which seemed to become considerably smaller as he walked inside, and picked her up… she faintly remembered seeing this man before, though didn't know when or where, though there was something extremely trustworthy about him. 'There, there, lil Flora, let get ya out of here, fraid I can't bring back ya m-mum… an d-dad... back…' the man gave a muffled cry, before carrying Flora out of the room, walking downstairs where they found another man with long unkempt black curly hair, and hollow gray eyes that seemed to hold indefinite pain and sorrow. The next night, many miles away in the small shire of Surrey in South East England. A man seemed just popped into existence on the street, a sign labeling it as Privet Drive, the man was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck away into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise that he had just arrived in a street that everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He busied himself with rummaging through his cloak, looking for something. He did' seem to have noticed that he was being watched because he abruptly stopped mid search and looked up, finding a tabby cat sitting on a brick wall, Dumbledore chuckled lightly to himself as if the cat amused him. 'I should have known.' Soon he found what he was looking for inside his cloak, it seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next street light flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only light left on the street were two pinpricks in the distance, which were the cat watching him. Should anyone look out a window now, all they would see would be a thick blanket of darkness there not knowing what was going on down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street stopping outside a small bronze number four, where sat day next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. 'Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall.' He turned and smiled at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead, he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the marking of the cat around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn in a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. 'How did you know it was me?' She asked. 'My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly.' 'You'd be stiff if you were sitting on a brick wall all day,' replied Professor McGonagall hotly. 'All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on his way here.' Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. 'Oh yes, everyone celebrating alright,' she replied impatiently. 'You'd think they'd be a bit more careful m, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something is going on. It was on their news.' She jerked towards a darkened window of the house behind them. 'I have heard it. Flocks of owls … shooting stars … Well, they're not completely stupid. They are bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense, I still do not understand how he managed to graduate, with top marks no less.' 'You can't blame them, Minerva,' replies Dumbledore calmly, 'we've had precious little to celebrate for the past eleven years.' 'I know that,' said Professor McGonagall irritably. 'But that is no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the street in broad daylight, not even wearing Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.' She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as if hoping he would tell her something, but he didn't so she continued on: 'A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?' 'It certainly seems so,' replied Dumbledore though he didn't seem convinced. 'We have much to be thankful for; many will have a chance to mourn those who have passed on to the next great adventure. Would you care for a sherbet lemon? 'A what?' 'A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.' Popping one into his mouth he checked the time on a rather strange watch, with twelve hands and planets orbiting around the middle along the outside. 'No thank you,' she replied as if it was not the time to have sherbet lemons 'The owls are nothing, compared to the rumours that have been flying around, according Mrs Digsby, they are saying he killed the Potters…' she paused. 'I'm hoping Hagrid can give a negative confirmation on that particular rumour, but I fear the worst, I suppose he is the one who told you I would be here' She nodded stiffly. 'I do not suppose you are going to tell me why you are here, of all places?' 'I'll be bringing Flora to her aunt and uncle, should the worse be proven to have to come to pass, as they would be her only living relatives.' 'Albus! Surely you don't mean the people who live here!' Professor McGonagall whispered shrilly as she jumped onto her feet. 'They are the worst sort of Muggles, you can't find anyone less like us… I've been watching them all day, they have a son, a spoiled little brat who was kicking and screaming at his mother for sweets, the mother herself was spying on the neighbors, looking for any kind of gossip, and the father, he has a terrible temper. They both spoil their child rotten. I still remember drying Lilly's tears during second year after she had a large fall out with her sister, it left deep wounds in lily, I'm very sure Petunia winds run just as deep.' 'Old wounds heal over time, I'm sure Mrs Dursley will take in her niece with open arms.' Albus replied. And 'it's the best place for her, if the rumours are to, she will be protected from her fame… and the remaining Death-Eaters. 'Albus, some emotional wounds do not heal, you of all people should know that! And Muggles can't protect her should those criminals find their way here. Professor Dumbledore seemed to dig into his cloak again and pulled out his watch, popping another sherbet lemon into his mouth. 'Hmm, it has struck one, November 2nd, Hagrid is running late,' he committed, seeming to ignore Professor McGonagall. 'Do you think it wise, to entrust Hagrid with something this delicate?' Minerva asked. 'I trust Hagrid with my life.' 'I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place,' Professor McGonagall replied 'but I cannot pretend that he isn't careless. He tends to - what is that?' A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of headlight; it swelled into a roar as they both looked up at the inky black sky above - a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed in the road in front of them. If the motorbike was huge it was nothing compared to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as any normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushey black hair and beard hid the vast majority of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. To Dumbledore's dismay, in the man's muscular arms was a swaddling of blankets. 'Then… the worst has truly happened Hagrid?' Dumbledore asked The giant nodded, tightening his grip on the blankets a little, letting out a sub, Professor McGonagall gasped and gently removed the swaddling from Hagrid's arms, looking down she saw baby Flora slept peacefully. 'Lily an' James are dead!' The giant declared fresh tears falling. 'I - I trust there were no complications.' Professor Dumbledore added after a moment, all the light in his eyes seemed to have been extinguished. 'N- no Professor Dumbledore sir. - house was almost destroyed but I got her out all alright. She fell asleep when we took a rest in a field outside of Bristol after the bike was gettin warm.' Professor McGonagall moves the fringe of Flora's hair, 'that must be where' on the baby's forehead was a curious shaped cut, like a bolt of lighting. 'She will have that scar for the rest of her life.' 'Can't you do anything about it?' Replied Professor McGonagall. 'Even if I could, I wouldn't, scars can be very useful things, I have one myself on my leg that is a perfect map of the London Underground.' The headmaster replied, give her here Minerva.' Reluctantly, Professor McGonagall gently handed the Swaddling and the child inside over to Professor Dumbledore. Who gently penetrated the boundary line of number four Privet Drive, placed the swaddling on the doorstep, and tucked an envelope. Petunia Dursley (née Evans) Number four Privet Drive Surrey United Kingdom- England. Professor Dumbledore sighed sadly, Good luck Hillary Jain Potter.' He muttered before turning back and made his way back to the pavement…. 'it is done, we have no business left here.' Professor McGonagall looked like she wanted to argue the placement once more, or perhaps take the child from under the headmaster's nose, however, Professor Dumbledore stood between her and the entrance, and there was nowhere she could take the child that Albus wouldn' be able to find her. No, for now,d Professors McGonagall would be forced to play Professor Dumbledore's game. 'I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir.' Hagrid said, wiping his streaming eyes on the sleeve of his jacket before taking to the sky once more on the motorbike. I shall see you soon, I expect.' Professor Dumbledore said turning his attention to Professor McGonagall the double meaning didn't gal on deaf ears, she nodded mutely, and blew her nose in a way of reply. Professor Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner, he stopped and put his silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps bathing the street in an orange glow. Professor Dumbledore turned on his heel and vanished. While a tabby cat slinked away around the corner on the opposite end of the street. Little baby Flora didn't realise that she was special. Didn't know that she was famous, not knowing that men and women dressed in funny clothes gathered all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: 'To Flora Potter - The Girl Who Lived!' |
| Reviews 6 |
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