Scarred

Chapter 2

"Tell me Malfoy," he said slowly, his red eyes glinting like rubies in the dim candlelight, "What has become of Harry Potter in my absence?"

He spoke the name with such venom that Gavner Malfoy trembled slightly as he answered,

"He has- that is- M-my lord."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed to mere slits.

"He has married, My Lord," Malfoy said quickly in a high pitched voice, "and his wife- his Mudblood wife- has borne him children," he finished with a sneer.

Voldemort's reptilian-like head turned sharply, his slight wince the only betrayal of his weakened condition.

"Children?" he asked, his red eyes narrowed once again.

"Y-yes, My Lord," Malfoy answered. "Four of them."

"And Harry Potter still leads that pathetic Order?"

"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy replied. "The Order is not very active, but they still keep a close eye on those people they believe to be undertaking... ah," he paused, "undertaking anything they deem to be undesirable..."

"I see," Voldemort said, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I suppose my faithful Death Eaters have been making most strenuous efforts to destroy the Potters?" he enquired maliciously.

Malfoy remained silent. Voldemort raised an eyebrow and looked around at the other Death Eaters.

"Well?"

One stepped forward meekly,

"M-my Lord, I-I... we... The Potters have been very well protected and..."

"Protected by whom?" Voldemort asked casually, twirling his wand between his long fingers and leaning back against the chair.

"By..." the Death Eater hesitated, "by Albus Dumbledore, My Lord," he swallowed nervously.

"Albus Dumbledore," Voldemort repeated slowly. He turned and suddenly addressed all those who had congregated before him,

"You fear Dumbledore?" he asked quietly, his voice growing louder. "You fear that old, frail, MUDBLOOD-LOVING OLD MAN!" he screamed. He raised his wand.

The Death Eater crumpled at his feet.

Four hundred miles away, Harry Potter sat bolt upright in bed.

****************

Harry pulled himself gently out of bed and glanced over at Nadia. She was breathing deeply, her silhouette rising and falling lightly against the light of the growing dawn. He stepped onto the soft carpet and crept softly out of the room. He was unnerved by the dream he'd just had. He shouldn't have been, but he was. Voldemort was gone. Harry himself had watched him die and yet despite the fact that every fibre of his body was telling him that Voldemort was gone for good, here he was, creeping around his house at five in the morning to check on his children.

He opened the door to Abigail's room quietly and glancing inside at his oldest daughter's peaceful silhouette, he closed the door gently.

He stepped into Remus's room, tripping over his son's broom, and cursing silently as he hopped out holding his foot. There was no need to switch on the light to check on his son's condition; he could hear the snoring from here...

Sirius's room was quiet, and Harry had to switch on the light briefly to see his son's sleeping (but upside-down) form hanging off the edge of the bed, snoring quietly.

The uneasy feeling that had settled firmly in his stomach was beginning to alleviate slightly as the dream faded further and further from his memory, with each room he checked he found it easier to convince himself that Voldemort was indeed, dead.

He climbed the stairs that led to the third floor slowly, lost in thought. He knew what it would mean for his family if the darkest wizard of this century were to return to full power. They would never be safe, they would constantly be running and hiding from the wrath that Voldemort could incur. He smoothly turned the handle and opened the door, allowing a chink of light to pierce the overwhelming darkness of Lillian's room. He looked to the bed.

Lillian was sitting upright, her arms wrapped protectively around her knees and her breathing coming in short panicked gasps.

"Lillian?" Harry said kindly.

"Daddy?" she sobbed, looking at the door.

He was at her bedside in a flash,

"What's the matter sweetheart?"

A dry sob. He patted her soft hair gently and sat next to her on the bed.

"I had a dream, Daddy," she answered, nuzzling into his embrace. "A horrible, horrible dream."

****************

Lillian tapped the wall in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron with her wand and stood back. Diagon Alley unfolded in all its glory in front of her and the twins. Together they passed through the arch and started down the cobblestone road.

"D'you want to wander round the other shops first?" Jen asked, her eyes trailing on Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Yeah... I need some new robes anyway," Lillian replied, looking in the direction of Madam Malkin's 'Robes for all occasions'.

"Ok, come on," said Kim, leading the way towards the robe shop.

They stepped inside to the sound of a tinkling little bell above them, and an assistant with a mouthful of pins looked up as they entered. She gave them a little nod and mumbled something that sounded like 'Ibeediv-oou-idimidi', before continuing with the fitting she was working on.

She must have seen the confusion on Lillian's face because she spat out a few pins and said coherently,

"I'll be with you in a minute."

Kim spotted a rack of new stock and wandered off to examine it, leaving Lillian and Jen to browse the many stands and shelves of robes. They ranged from the functional plain black to the wildly extravagant swirling robes that changed colour to blend in with whatever background you happened to be standing against.

Lillian smiled and lifted a hideously bright pair of purple robes with yellow polka dots. Jen tried unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles,

"Would you ever?"

"No, never, ever, ever," she said with a serious headshake, barely managing to keep a straight face.

"They had to be cool at some long gone moment in time," Jen pointed out, causing Lillian to relapse into fits of suppressed laughter.

Kim drifted past them and into the fitting rooms with a pair of red robes slung over her arm. Jen watched her in disgust.

"Red is so not her colour," she said. "I've got to rescue her from those." She followed her sister into the fitting room.

"We're ready for you now, dear," said the assistant from the other side of the shop.

Lillian made her way over to the stool and stood on it while the assistant fussed and busied herself with measurements,

"What kind of material were you thinking?"

"Er... Wool, I suppose," Lillian answered.

"Colour?"

"Dark green would be nice,"

"Hmmm..." the assistant wandered off and began sifting through robes on a rack.

Lillian caught a glimpse of Kim's red hair as she passed the fitting room door, and with a backward glance at the busy assistant, hopped off the stool and headed into the changing room.

She found herself immediately faced with the one person she really didn't want to have to talk to today. Any day, in fact.

Medea Malfoy was twirling and admiring herself in front of the full length mirror, whilst Kim stood impatiently behind her, hands on hips, in her red robes. Jen eyed the red robes with distaste, and Medea Malfoy, who was flicking and smoothing her silvery blonde hair, with revulsion...

"Look, Malfoy, move, would you?" Kim said nastily.

Medea turned around, glanced Kim up and down, and then adopted a condescending smile which didn't quite reach her eyes,

"Oh, Weasley, how... lovely... to see you," she said with malice, "Are you going to a costume party?" she asked, staring pointedly at the robes which Kim was wearing.

"No," responded Kim, through clenched teeth.

"Oh," Medea said, with another small smile, and another glance at the robes. "Well, I suppose it's true what they say." She turned back to the mirror. "Taste is only found among the upper classes, you know, the well bred people among us..."

"Or perhaps the inbred among us?" Lillian suggested.

"Someone with your dirty blood can't really talk, Potter,"

Kim took a deep breath and was about to take a step towards Medea, but Jen and Lillian grabbed an arm each and held fast.

Medea gave a high pitched false little laugh, and said,

"Temper, temper, Weasley,"

"Why you little..." Kim started.

"Oh, Potter," Medea said suddenly, as though noticing Lillian for the first time, "How's your father these days?"

Lillian raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Any saner?" Medea finished wickedly with an evil little smile.

"How's you father?" spat Jen. "Oh, no, wait." She smiled cruelly. "Not out of Azkaban yet, is he?"

Medea spun around from the mirror that had been occupying her attention,

"What did you say, Weasel?" asked slowly, unnerved by the sudden shift of control in the conversation.

"You heard me."

"You disgusting little blood traitor!" Medea hissed, her eyes narrowed.

"Rather a blood traitor than Death Eater scum," Jen retorted.

Medea's face betrayed her shock as she tried desperately to maintain her composure,

"You think you're so smart," she said furiously, lifting her things from the side of the changing rooms. "But don't think you've gotten one over on me, Weasels... you'll get what's coming to you soon enough. All of you," she added with a glance at Lillian. And without another word she swept out of the fitting room.

"Oh, there you are dear," said the assistant, bustling in and handing Lillian a neatly wrapped bundle. "Would you like me to charge it to an account or would you like to pay now?" They followed her out of the fitting rooms, just in time to see Medea's silvery hair pass the large shop front.

"Charge it to my father's account," Lillian said, taking her new robes.

"Alright dear, and what name is the account under?"

"Potter, Harry Potter."

****************

The mood of the little group remained somewhat subdued as they made their way towards a large shop marked 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes'. The attractive shop front was painted an eye-catching shade of bright orange and the front window showed a selection of products that put Zonko's Joke Shop back in Hogsmeade to shame.

Kim opened the door and held it as several people left the shop. Then stepped inside and squinted while her eyes adjusted to the store's lighting. Lillian vaguely recognised the people leaving as Ravenclaw fourth years, they were chatting excitedly about the mischief-making items they had just purchased. They glanced at Lillian with some degree of interest before stepping out.

Lillian watched through the shop front window as one of them took a purple furry hat out of the brilliant orange bag and placed it on his head. His head vanished. His hand reached up and groped around in the air for a moment before he removed the hat, causing both hat and head to reappear. His friends doubled up in laughter as they made their way back out into Diagon Alley.

Lillian looked around the spacious shop. She had been here once or twice before, but Fred and George were constantly inventing new products, so the shop was in a perpetual state of metamorphosis.

The walls were lined with huge shelves that stretched up to the high ceiling whilst various barrels and containers full of novelty products lurked in the corners. A large bird, its feathers an alarming shade of violet, squawked half-heartedly to itself in the far corner.

"Hello girls," George said, coming out of the storeroom with a large crate marked 'Coding candies'.

"Are those new, Uncle George?" Kim asked curiously.

"Yes," he answered, placing the box on the shop counter. "They're brilliant. Absolutely genius if I do say so myself."

He began taking the small red boxes out of the large crate.

"What do they do?" Jen probed.

"Well, whenever you put one in your mouth, they cause you to start speaking backwards... which of course no one will understand, unless they happen to have one in their mouth at the same time."

"Wow, that's really cool," Lillian said, picking up one of the small red boxes and examining it. Jen and Kim nodded, though they seemed somewhat less enthralled than Lillian was...

"Anything else new?" asked Kim, looking over at George who was now levitating the boxes up onto the higher shelves.

George thought for a moment,

"Well there's the Chafing Chocolate..."

"We've already heard of that," Jen said.

"We're giving Professor Snape a box of it for Christmas," Kim added wickedly.

"Along with a few Laxative Lollipops,"

George laughed.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he informed them.

Uma came bustling into the shop suddenly, her arms full of bags and boxes. George hurried over and relieved her of a few of these, kissing her on the cheek.

"Where's Regina?" she asked him, smiling at the three girls who were now examining a box of Farting Frosties.

"She's still out with her friends," George answered.

Uma hurried over to the counter and dropped a few bags on it, glancing at the parchments spread over the wooden surface. She gave a tiny gasp of surprise and began scooping them up at once.

"George!" she scolded. "How could you leave these lying about?"

George looked over in surprise, and then adopted a look of ashamed guilt.

"Sorry... I forgot they were there."

Lillian and the twins peered over in interest, as Uma hastily thrust all the parchments into the top drawer of the counter. Lillian caught a glimpse of a symbol that she vaguely recognised, one she had seen many times before on documents belonging to her father. A beautiful orange and red bird, its wings and vivid plumage ablaze, depicted rising from a mound of ashes. The symbol of the Order of the Phoenix.

"What are those, Aunt Uma?" Kim asked, attempting to sound casual, and failing miserably.

"Nothing of interest to you, Jennifer," her aunt replied shortly, bustling out into the storeroom.

Kim and Jen glanced at one another meaningfully, and then at Lillian, whose eyes were narrowed in deep thought.

"Hmmm... more Quarrelsome Quills, I think..." George said, wandering out absent-mindedly.

Kim rolled her eyes at the adults' lack of common sense and walked around the counter. She grabbed the handle of the top drawer firmly and pulled hard. It didn't budge.

She tried again, tugging harder on the handle, but still, it didn't move.

She flexed her fingers a few times, braced herself, and gave an almighty tug on the drawer's handle. Suddenly a small mouth, full of tiny white teeth, appeared on the drawer and closed sharply on her outstretched hand.

She stuffed her fist into her mouth to stop herself from howling in pain as her aunt came rushing back in bearing a box marked 'Quarrelsome Quills'.

"Kimberly, dear, while you're back there," she handed Kim the box, "put those on the third shelf."

"What do those do?" Lillian asked enquiringly.

"The Quarrelsome Quills?" asked Jen, as Kim shook her sore hand and tried to find a space for the brightly coloured feather quills. "Oh, well, basically, when you try to write with them, they smack you in the face or poke you in the eye, that's all."

Suddenly the door of the storeroom swung open and Fred came out, struggling with a huge sign bearing the legend, "Licking Lollipops- the Lollies that lick back!" Lillian nudged Jen and giggled.

Jen made a face and yelled, "Dad!"

Fred stood on his tiptoes and attempted to look over the top of the sign.

"Hello, when did you three get here?" He gave up on trying to look over the sign and peered around the side.

"Only a few minutes ago," Kim said, smiling at her father's endeavour to see over the sign.

"Is Lillian staying over?" he asked, placing the sign carefully in the window.

"Yes," Jen answered.

"Do Harry and Nadia know this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Obviously the escapades of last summer had not yet been forgotten.

"Of course," Kim said in mock indignation.

Uma wandered back in, and glanced around for Fred, finally spotting him in the window display, where he was straightening his sign.

"Fred, have you seen the Skiving Snackbox Multi-Packs?"

"Weren't they in the storeroom?"

"Let's go upstairs," said Jen, her expression one of immense boredom.

The three girls left the shop and went into the storeroom, passing crates and crates of stock. It was as they passed a small window, on which a small box of pleasant little flowers sat on the sill, that Lillian heard a distinct high pitched giggling.

She looked at her friends, who were now half way up the staircase in front of her, but neither of them appeared to be giggling. She shook her head, thinking she must have imagined the sound, and decided not to mention it to the twins. She was, after all, well known for having the most overactive of imaginations.

****************

Fred banged on the door for the third time that night,

"GIRLS! I'm not going to say this again! You don't have to go to sleep if you really don't want to, but the rest of us might like to! So shut up."

Jen stifled her giggles and Lillian lay face down on her pillow in an attempt to stop laughing.

"Yes, Daddy," Kim said seriously. They heard Fred's bedroom door shut with a click on the other side of the floor above the shop. Kim collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles.

Lillian yawned and lay on her stomach, resting her chin on her hand and listening to Jen and Kim's whispered, but none the less vigorous, argument about two Hufflepuff boys in their year...

She awoke to the quiet snores of the twins and sat up, struggling to remember where she was for a second. She finally recalled and lay for a moment watching the dust gently spiral in the chink of sunlight that was streaming in through the gap in the curtains.

"M-m-morning," yawned Kim, stretching her arms up and smiling at Lillian. "Bet you can't wait to help with the stock check today..." Kim said sarcastically.

Lillian sat up again, looking genuinely eager,

"Oh gosh, I can't wait!"

Kim shook her head in confusion, her head titled as she watched Lillian curiously.

"You can't wait for what?" asked Jen, waking up and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

They dressed quickly, and the twins raced to the bathroom in a contest to see who would get to use it first. Lillian suddenly had the feeling this was a regular thing when Kim turned at the door, gave a triumphant little laugh and stuck out her tongue at her sister before slamming the bathroom door.

Olga stepped out of her bedroom, sporting a purple fluffy dressing gown and looking strangely bright and chirpy for the time of the morning. Must be a Scandinavian thing... Lillian thought to herself.

"Breakfast?" she asked Lillian and Jen.

"Yes," they chorused, Kim's voice clearly heard through the bathroom door.

Jen and Kim trooped down into the kitchen after their mother, and Lillian hurried into the bathroom, her stomach objecting to the fact that she was not immediately attending to the breakfast awaiting her downstairs.

She was splashing water onto her face when a high-pitched scream was suddenly heard from below her in the shop. She heard the rush of feet as Fred and George ran past the bathroom and down the stairs. She threw open the bathroom door and rushed down after them, her hands diving into her robes for the comfort of her wand.

The moment she stepped into the shop, the reason for the screaming became apparent. The shop had been ransacked. Several shelves had been knocked over and many of the products lay spread over the floor, as thought someone had been searching the shop. Immediately, Lillian's gaze travelled to the counter and drawers.

The bottom drawers had all been removed and discarded nearby; the top drawer however, had not been discarded. Rather, it had been melted. The drawer was a steaming mess that was solidifying and dripping down into the space where the other drawers had been.

Olga stood, frozen in shock, a few steps from the doorway. Fred moved around her to get a better look and his mouth dropped open in horror at the carnage that had been raged upon his shop.

George walked to the front door and started examining it,

"Yes... the ward's been lifted from the door," he said angrily.

Jen and Kim began walking around and lifting things that had been flung to the ground in the intruder's haste. Uma appeared in the doorway,

"What's all the commotion abou- oh my God..."

She stared at the shop, then at George,

"Holy- w-what happened?"

George shook his head and shrugged,

"We don't really know yet...but the wards have been lifted, so it looks like a forced entry..."

"Yes..." Uma nodded, "So what do you think- OH NO!"

Uma shot across the room to the counter and stared in horror at the melted drawer. Taking out her wand, she opened the drawer with a quick, "Alohamora!"

She pulled the scorched parchments from the drawer and began rifling through them rapidly.

"It's not here!" she cried finally, throwing her arms into the air in frustration.

The other three adults stared at her in alarm, the horror etched on their faces,

"So that's what they were after," Fred said severely, shaking his head in disbelief.

"We need to contact Dumbledore, Fred," Olga said quietly. "Now."

He nodded, and then seemed to notice for the first time the three girls in the shop,

"You three, upstairs."

"Oh, but Daddy!" Jen protested.

"Don't 'But daddy' me young lady. Upstairs, now!"

Lillian and Jen trooped out, Jen casting resentful glances at her father. Kim made a great show of not wanting to leave before finally going out and slamming the door in her wake.

Once behind the closed door, behind which they could hear nothing from the shop, Kim nodded curtly to her twin and began digging in her pockets. Jen returned the nod and began sifting through the contents of her own pockets.

Lillian observed in confusion for a few moments, quite startled at the amount of mischief-worthy merchandise that the twins were managing to pull from their pockets. Suddenly, a grinning Kim pulled a pair of red-rimmed glasses from her left pocket,

"Ah..." said Lillian, finally understanding, "Pliable Peepers?"

Kim grinned again and put the glasses on. Slowly the lenses of the glasses protruded and grew, stretching outwards and down as they made their way to the crack beneath the doorframe.

Jen, in the meantime, had found her extendable ears (the latest version, with stereo volume control) and was busily screwing one into her ear. She handed one to Lillian, who went about the slightly tricky business of getting it into her ear, then watched with concealed amusement as the ear wriggled and squirmed towards the bottom of the door...

"Well, really Albus, we heard nothing..." said a female voice which Lillian was unable to identify as either Uma or Olga, since their voices were impossible to tell apart.

"But we do have silencing charms between the shop and the upstairs... it gets pretty noisy sometimes down here and we can't concentrate on what we're doing up there," said a voice Lillian recognized as Fred's.

"...Yes, yes, I understand," said Dumbledore quietly.

Lillian and Jen exchanged meaningful glances. Jen poked Kim, hard.

"Ouch! What?!"

"Is Dumbledore in the fireplace?"

"Yes! Now stop poking me!" Kim scowled at her twin.

Jen smiled and turned back to Lillian, who was still hanging on the conversation,

"...We still can't be sure who's taken it, though this is reason enough for us to assume that they are gathering support."

There were murmurs of agreement from behind the door; the girls exchanged confused glances.

"For the moment however, I think it wise to call an emergency meeting of the order, we must decide on a plan of action immediately..."

"Yes, Albus," George's voice answered. "We'll meet you at headquarters in ten minutes."

Kim suddenly pulled the pliable peepers from under the door,

"They're coming!" she whispered hurriedly.

The three of them darted upstairs quickly and into the twins' bedroom. Lying on their beds, panting for breath, the three girls began to ponder what they had heard and seen... Why was the Order having an emergency meeting? What had been stolen? And more importantly...who was gathering support?

****************

Lacerta Lestrange crept closer on her knees to the hem of his robes, whimpering softly

"Please Master," she whispered desperately. "Please, give me one last chance."

Voldemort observed her carefully.

"And if I do?"

"Then I am yours, My Lord. Forever," she cried, "and I will deliver the Potter children to you."

"Very well...stand, Lacerta," he said lazily.

She barely winced as the dark mark was burned into her arm. She allowed only the briefest flicker of pain to pass over her pale face as the burning became intolerable. And then it was over.

She gazed at it, fascinated by how it seemed so alive, and so sinister. The contrast of the black skull against her stark white skin, the writhing snake protruding from it's mouth, like a demon from the gates of hell. It made her feel powerful. It gave her a sense of finally belonging, and she loved it.

She walked down the hallway of Elddir house slowly, the cold of the stone walls and floors seeping into her bones. She resisted the urge to shiver. Such weakness was intolerable. She would not be weak.

She would make her parents proud of her strength; she would show them that she was just as good, no, better than her brother ever was.

She stepped out into the warm evening air and stood for a moment on the steps, searching the clear sky for the constellation she was named after...

Her hair fluttered gently in the breeze as she disappeared into the darkness, her task laid out before her like the night sky.