The Lost Potter

Preface

A young woman stood by the wide picture window in her living room, a small infant cradled lovingly in her arms. Her slim frame swayed back and forth as she sang softly. "A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain softly blows on Lullaby Bay. It fills the sails of boats that are waiting... waiting to sail your worries away. "

She closed her eyes, and despite the trembling smile on her face, two fat tears slowly worked their way down her cheeks. She drew in a shuddering breath and looked up and out the window. In the distance she saw the bright headlight of the motorcycle approaching slowly through the dark night sky. Quickly, she kissed the child on the head, inhaled that wonderful baby smell, and set him back in what was left of the crib.

"I'm sorry. Someday... Someday I will explain everything." The baby began to wail. "Shhhhh... Close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain... wave goodbye to cares of the day. Watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain sail far away from... Lulla...bye-" Too overcome with emotion to finish the verse, the woman swallowed hard, hiccupped, kissed the babe once more, and fled the ruins of what was once her home.

Outside, she just had time to crouch behind a bush and watch so that to anybody who happened to be peering into the bush would only see a pair of wide, red-rimmed, tear-stained eyes. Fortunately for her, the two men who had just arrived on the scene, and who had become so important in her life just recently, argued over the baby so intensely that they never noticed her.

After waiting for over an hour, the young woman seized her chance for escape. She crawled out from behind the bush, plucking leaves from her flowing, jet-black hair. Her long, flowing skirt that had gathered around her knees gracefully fell back into place as she stood. She wrapped her thin arms around her slim waist and stood staring, transfixed at the wreckage. Two more tears slid down her pale face, and she shuddered as a cool breeze whipped around her. Finally, she dragged her eyes away from the ruins, pulled out her wand, turned on the spot, and vanished with a "CRACK!"

Unexpected Happenings

Fourteen years later, the same young woman sat on a bench just outside the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. She drummed the palms of her hands nervously on the bench and leaned forward slightly. A few strands of jet-black hair fell forward into her face. She inhaled deeply as she sat up, brushed the hairs away, grabbed her suitcase and strode purposefully towards the castle in the distance.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was in his office, lazily enjoying the latest issue of The Quibbler.

"Dizzlewilly invasion, indeed," he chuckled. A sharp rap on the door pulled Dumbledore out of his peaceful, private world. "Yes?" he called. The door opened.

"Professor, I was on my way to Grimmauld Place, and I wanted to know if you needed anything," said Professor McGonagall, peering over the top of her spectacles.

"No, thank you Minerva. I have an exceptionally odd feeling that I need to be here this particular afternoon, and any other business can wait."

"Right. Well, I shall return this evening. Good day, sir."

A short fifteen minutes after she set off, the young woman found herself at the bottom of the steps leading to the front doors. Clutching her oversized, slightly worn witch's hat to her head, she leaned back and gazed up at the doors, impressed by their great size. Just as she began trudging up the stairs, the great doors opened and a tall, stern-looking witch came hurrying down them. "Good day," she said distractedly.

"And to you!" the young witch cried earnestly. She was absolutely bubbling with excitement. "Do you know where I might find Professor Dumbledore?"

McGonagall stopped. "Yes, I suppose he's in his office. May I ask who you are?"

The young woman smiled nervously. "Um... well, I know Dumbledore knows me, but its kind of... a surprise of sorts. But it's extremely urgent that I see him as soon as possible."

"And what is the nature of your call? Walking down memory lane?" McGonagall chuckled.

"Something like that. I'm also hoping to get a job teaching."

"I don't think we have any openings, but I'll show you to his office and you can talk to him just the same. Follow me." McGonagall turned sharply and walked back through the doors, the young woman close behind.

A short while later, McGonagall was walking swiftly down the hall, and the young witch stood on the spiral staircase, her heart pounding. She nervously wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, adjusted her hat, and breathed deeply. As she breathed, she counted. "In...two...three...Out...two...three...." Finally, she arrived at the door. She knocked timidly, and when there was no response for several minutes, gathered her confidence and knocked loudly and rapidly.

"Come in," she heard a wise old voice say.

Slowly, she creaked the door open. "Professor Dumbledore?"

The old wizard looked curiously at her. "How may I assist you, dear?" When he looked at her, something in the back of his mind stirred. He knew this girl from somewhere... but where?

"Professor... I'm sorry, I should have sent an owl before I came...." The young girl stuttered.

"Nonsense. Ask anyone around, I simply love surprises." Dumbledore smiled gently. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms...?"

The young witch looked nervous and somewhat defiant at the same time. "Professor... my name is Potter. Melissa Potter."

Harry woke up slowly, reached for his glasses, and glanced blearily at the clock. Groaning, he threw off the covers and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Sitting on the bed he could hear the other occupants of the house and the usual early-morning bustle begin. After a minute of sitting on the lower bunk he stood and headed downstairs.

"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," he said as he passed her on the stairs.

"Good morning, Harry! Breakfast's started, help yourself to a plate, watch out for Fred and George though, they're up to something this morning...." Trailing off, she hurried away, tending to whatever early-morning chores needed to be tended to.

As Harry reached the kitchen, he heard a knock on the door.

"Who on earth could that be this early?" said Ginny as she walked into the room yawning.

"Dunno." Harry grabbed a plate out of the cupboard and began piling it high with bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast. "But it's not really all that early, is it? It's already ten."

"That's pretty early around here," laughed Ginny, and she too began piling her plate with food.

Harry was about to respond when Sirius burst into the kitchen. "Harry! Harry, come here!" At the same time, the portrait of Mrs. Black started shrieking wildly, and Mrs. Weasley could be heard yelling at her husband to "Shut that blasted painting up!"

Harry had never seen Sirius like this. He was still in his pajamas, his hair was everywhere, and there was a look of pure joy and excitement on his face. "What is it, Sirius?"

"Just come here!" Sirius said impatiently.

Harry set down his plate, exchanged a baffled look with Ginny, and followed Sirius out into the front hall. Immediately upon walking into the hall, he realized whatever was happening was huge. Nearly every member of the household was there, save for Ginny, and even Dumbledore had put in an appearance. Like Sirius, Dumbledore looked extremely pleased with something, but Harry could also see new worry lines beginning to form. "What's going on?" he asked.

As soon as the words left his lips, the buzzing room fell deadly silent. Everyone turned to look at him, and as they did Harry saw someone that he couldn't see before due to the number of people crowding around her. She was very pretty. Slim, quirky, with long, flowing, jet-black hair. She wore all purple; ballet flats, leggings, skirt, and a long-sleeve fitted top that made her waist seem smaller than it already was. On her head sat a worn out old black witch's hat. But the really stunning thing was her eyes. As Harry looked into them he had a strong sense of Deja vu, and he thought he knew why. Harry was looking into the same eyes that he looked into in the mirror every morning.

"Hi, Harry," Melissa said quietly. "I don't suppose you remember me at all...."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. No." He had no idea what was going on, and he had just decided he didn't like being left out of the loop. This sudden decision left him a bit snappier that he would usually be, but who cared? Harry had no doubt that everyone in the hall was about to spring yet another surprise on him, and he wasn't sure he could handle it.

"Harry, I would like you to meet Melissa," Dumbledore said. "Melissa Potter."

Harry started when he heard the last name. "Potter?" he said dazedly.

Melissa nodded, never taking her eyes off him. She looked thin, too thin, and pale. But in her eyes there was some fire he had only seen before in Dumbledore's eyes. "I'm your sister, Harry."

"But how? How is that possible? Wouldn't I have known? I don't understand. You can't be my sister, I don't have a sister!" Harry was shocked. How could he possibly have a sister?

Dumbledore stepped in then. "Why don't you all head to the kitchen for some breakfast, and Melissa can explain everything?" He smiled around at the group, and slowly everyone trickled into the kitchen.

It took almost no time at all for everyone to get settled in. Harry realized that everyone here besides Dumbledore looked as shocked as he felt. Were none of them aware he had a sister either?

Melissa entered the kitchen last, and it was only then that Harry noticed she was cradling a black cat in her arms. Like Melissa, the cat was too thin, and had startling green eyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the cat was his cousin, too.

After everyone else had sat, Melissa took the only remaining chair at the head of the table. She looked nervously around at everyone and began after Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at her. After making sure she was settled, he left the room silently.

"Well... I'm twenty-nine years old now. I was fourteen when Harry was born, and fifteen when... well, you know." She shifted uncomfortably. The cat was curled in her lap, asleep. "I know that most of you never knew about me... Sirius knew, Dumbledore knew, Lupin and Peter knew, Hagrid, a few others. It wasn't that they were trying to hide me away, I just couldn't go anywhere, and after a while neither could Mum or Dad, and it just sort of happened."

"Why couldn't you go anywhere? Were the Death Eaters after you?" Ron interjected.

"Well, yes, later on that was part of it. But mostly it was because I was sick all the time. Half my first year at Hogwarts was spent in the hospital wing, and no one would come near me. They were all afraid. So I told my parents that I just wanted to home school. They didn't like it much, they wanted me to continue trying at Hogwarts, but I just couldn't do it." She sighed and began slowly stroking the cat.

"So, my second, third, fourth, and part of my fifth years were all home schooled. I was still sick a lot, and I never had many friends anyway, so I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. I actually really enjoyed my lessons. Mum was a whiz at Charms." Melissa smiled, but her eyes had a far-off look in them, and they were shining with tears.

"Anyway, the night...it...happened, I was studying in the basement. When He came, Dad locked the door to the basement before I even realized anything was wrong at all. I heard Dad shouting at Mum to take Harry and run, and then I heard Him shout the Killing Curse..." She trailed off, and a single tear slid down her face. She quickly wiped if off and looked away.

Harry was stunned. Could any of this be real? Did he really have family and not know all these years? If he did, why hadn't anyone told him? Sirius, Lupin, and Hagrid had all known. Dumbledore had known.

Mrs. Weasley got up and began shuffling about, making tea. Melissa took a deep breath, and continued.

"I didn't know about Peter and Sirius and the switch. Dumbledore just told me today. I was scared, I thought he had betrayed us all, so when I saw his bike coming, I hid." She looked directly at Sirius. "I heard you and Hagrid argue about who was going to take Harry. I wish I had known then what I know now. We could have avoided so much of this." At this, she looked up and said, "Oh, right. Dumbledore and I had quite the conversation this morning. He filled me in on mostly everything that has happened since I've been gone, and I have told him nearly everything that I'm going to tell you."

Hermione then jumped in. "But... if you knew Hagrid, why didn't you just come out when he was there? He would have protected you from Sirius. Well, if you had actually needed protecting."

Melissa nodded. "I know. I could have, but I was young and frightened. I had it in my mind that Hagrid had no chance against Sirius-" She smiled over at Harry's Godfather. "So I just hid until they went away.

"I hid in the bushes for over an hour. It was cold and wet that night. Of course, I got sick. I was trying to figure out how to find Dumbledore, but I had no owl, no broom, nothing. Finally, I decided the only choice I had was to try and Apparate... I didn't get hurt, but I did wind up lost. I didn't dare try it again for fear of splinching. I was out in the cold and wet for hours. By the time somebody found me, my fever was through the roof and they didn't think I was going to make it." Melissa's cat woke up, and stretched. It sat up and fixed its stare on Harry, and stayed there for the remainder of the story.

"A very nice Wizarding couple took care of me for a while. By the time I got better, my fever had done something to my head, and I couldn't remember who I was or anything about me anymore. Luckily, the man I was staying with was extremely intelligent. He immediately began working on a cure... And about the time you would have entered your first year, Harry, we made a first attempt." She chuckled. "It definitely didn't go right, but it didn't go wrong either. I did remember something, but it was only one memory. Of you, actually, and Mum. You were "helping" Mum blow the candles out on her birthday cake, and you face planted the cake!" Melissa giggled. After a moment, she continued the story with a much more somber attitude.

"But the second attempt... the second attempt was about a year later, and it did go horribly, horribly wrong. Kevin West, the man who was trying to cure me, was killed. After that I dropped the subject completely around his wife. I was terrified she would blame me for the death of her husband. But at the end of this past fall she came up to my room and announced she had discovered a foolproof way to cure me." Melissa smiled again. "And it worked. So here I am."

The room was silent. Harry didn't know what to think. Could she really be his sister? She certainly had his- their- mother's eyes. She certainly looked an awful lot like him. But that didn't explain why no one had told him. So, he looked to Sirius and Lupin.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

Sirius snorted. "Well, I was busy being in Azkaban, and escaping, and then going into hiding. I was a bit preoccupied."

Lupin looked Harry in the eye. "I thought she had died. I thought losing your parents was enough, and you didn't need to know. I am sorry, Harry."

Harry sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. He was trying to absorb all of this new information, but his brain just wouldn't process it. He stood up and left the room.

Melissa sighed. "Well, so much for joyful family reunions." Her cat leapt onto the table from her lap.

Sirius reached over and put his hand on Melissa's. "Don't worry about him. He has a lot on his plate, and he tends to get wrapped up in his own head."

Everyone at the table save for Mrs. Weasley laughed and nodded. Melissa smiled weakly, and then asked if she could be shown to her room so she could unpack. Mrs. Weasley jumped up immediately and left the room, Melissa following. Her suitcase floated lazily behind her, but the cat stayed on the table and proceeded to lap milk out of Melissa's cup.

Harry went up to his room and lay back on the bed. He'd give it a few minutes to process, and then go and talk to Melissa again. He had just gotten comfortable when he heard Mrs. Weasley and Melissa come up the stairs. They were chitchatting about nonsense, and he could easily tell Melissa's heart was not in the conversation. A pang of guilt went through him; it wasn't her fault, and he knew she had been so excited to meet him. And here he was, blowing her off and disbelieving not only her, but also Dumbledore.

He had just made up his mind to try talking to her again when he heard Melissa's door close, and Mrs. Weasley go back downstairs. After a few minutes he heard a faint song come from the room. He then realized it was Melissa singing as she unpacked. He stopped to listen, and was struck by the simple beauty of her voice and the powerful impression the lyrics had left upon him.

"April morning summer come soon

Clouds follow after

Morning sun is hidden by noon

Day shrouded over

Tears to face the morning news

We watch our future burn

And wonder if we'll ever learn

That words can save us

War in broken promise land,

Fame, Fear, and Wand fire

Cowboy culture, blood on its hands

Flag, fuel, and empire

Bit parts for shooting stars

Above the dying trees

No one looking up to see

That word can save us.

Number one favorite son

One more outsider

Army drops its cluster bombs

Boy sees his future

World are you listening now?

This fool just had her day.

Who'll be brave enough to say?

That word can save us.

World are you listening now?

This fool just had her day.

Who'll be brave enough to say?

That words can save us."

Harry sat for a moment, just listening. The simplicity of her voice suggested she had never had voice lessons, yet her dynamics were stunning enough that she must have learned them from somebody. The words of the song ran through his head again and again. "War in broken promise land / Fame, Fear, and Wand fire...." And what about, "Number one favorite son / One more outsider / Army drops its cluster bombs / Boy sees his future...." Was this a reference to him and Voldemort? Was she singing about the war that ended with Voldemort trying to kill him?

He lay back down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, just thinking.

*** NEITHER OF THE SONGS USED IN THIS FIC ARE PROPERTY OF ME. I AM MAKING NO MONEY FROM THE USE OF THESE LYRICS. ***

Hushabye Mountain- Robert and Richard Sherman

Words Can Save Us- Chumbawamba