Eyes of a Phoenix

Harry was crying. Mum and Dad had just been killed. He was too young to understand what had happened, of course, but he knew he was alone.

I looked around. I was scared. I knew Voldemort had been here, I could feel his evil presence still lingering in the air, along with an eerie green smoke.

I looked over at my little brother. He had a bright red scar on his forehead.

From the curse, I thought.

Suddenly, I felt a warm, sticky liquid pouring down my left arm. My shoulder was bleeding, but underneath the blood, I could see a scar that resembled a snake, wrapped into an intricate knot.

I was only four, but I was smart for my age. My parents had warned me about what to do if this ever happened.

Oh my God. Where's Mercury?

As I frantically searched for my parent's owl, I heard a motorbike approaching and skidding to a halt with a loud screech. I knew who it was immediately.

"Siri! Siri!!"

I ran out the front door and saw my godfather sitting on his flying motorbike, taking his helmet off. I could see that he had been extremely pale and was shocked to see me alive.

"T-T-Tasha?"

I nodded several times and dragged him into the house without saying a word.

"Come on, Siri, Harry...Harry is..."

Sirius froze.

I looked at him. "What's the matter, Siri?"

Sounding very much like a dog, he growled, "Someone's in here."

I gasped. "Who?" I whispered.

"I don't know. Stay here," he said, walking to the front door, his boots thumping against the wooden floor.

Fighting against my curious nature, I did as he said. Suddenly, I heard him talking with someone. Someone came in. Scared, I hid behind our couch. Luckily, the person didn't notice me and walked straight up the stairs.

The giant man came back down the stairs, carrying Harry. I tried to stop myself, but I gave out a frightened squeal. The man stopped and turned toward where I was hiding. I clamped my hands over my mouth. Then, Sirius found me and picked me up.

"It's okay, Tasha," he said, "This man is going to take you to live with your aunt and uncle."

"I don't wanna live with them. They're smelly old Muggles. I wanna live with you, Siri," I cried, throwing my little arms around his neck.

Looking at how sad I was, he tried to talk the man out of taking me.

"Surely we can work something out. Uh, you...you could send an owl to Dumbledore, or something, Hagrid!"

The man said in a gruff voice, "Nope. Sorry, Sirius. Strict orders, don't yeh know. Have ter take Harry and Tasha to live with the Muggles. Come along then, Tasha."

Sirius put me down on the ground, obviously sad to let me go.

"Now, now, Tasha," he said in a soothing voice as I looked at the ground, sniffling, "We'll see each other again very soon. I'm sure of it. And it probably won't be too bad to live with the Muggles."

Tears swelled up in my eyes as I hugged him goodbye.

"Bye Tasha. Be good, okay?"

I nodded and he smiled. "That's my girl."

Then he turned to Hagrid and said, "Here Hagrid, you can borrow my motorbike. I won't need it anymore." He Disapparated to who knows where, leaving me with Hagrid and Harry.

Suddenly, I felt something land on my unscarred shoulder. I looked up and there was, "Mercury!"

Mercury gave a soft hoot. He was a beautiful tawny owl with a white spot on his back. I smiled at him while Hagrid lifted me up into the sidecar of the motorbike.

Things were finally looking up.

~*~

A/N: This part, I just sort of made up.

Hagrid stepped off the motorcycle, two children in his massive arms. He walked up to where Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing.

"Got 'em, Professor Dumbledore, sir. They fell asleep just as we was flying over Bristol," he said.

"A job well done, Hagrid," said Professor Dumbledore.

As the three of them talked, it was officially decided: Harry and Tasha would be living with the Muggles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Seven Years Later

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been seven years since that fateful day.

I myself was now eleven and Harry was eight. He had no idea that he was a wizard. He didn't even remember the day seven years ago that changed so many wizards' and witches' lives.

Dumbledore decided it was better off that he grew up away from all of that. I'm not sure what he meant by that, but I knew that the Dursleys had forbidden me to tell Harry what he is.

They've forced him to live in a cupboard.

Me, however, well, um....I kind of took my mum's wand before I left my house and threatened to curse them if they treated me bad.

They knew I wasn't bluffing.

When I was two, before Harry was born, at a Christmas party we were out caroling and we stopped at number four, Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia started calling my mom names like 'freak' and 'abnormal', so I reached into Mum's pocket and took out her wand. I shot a hex at Aunt Petunia. If my father didn't think it was so funny, I probably would've been grounded. They've been afraid of me ever since.

That particular morning was Dudley's birthday. The couch in the living room was laden with all his presents.

I was in the kitchen, making breakfast and listening to my portable CD Player which I had bought with the money the neighbors paid me for doing chores for them.

You wouldn't believe how lazy those people were!

But, I wasn't complaining. More work meant more money and more money meant more freedom.

Of course, I knew about the two vaults of money in Gringotts, but how was I supposed to get to them?

When my letter came, I was going to send a letter to an old family friend who would take me to Diagon Alley and King's Cross. But my letter hadn't come yet.

Harry had often asked me why I kept an owl in my room. I told him that I had found the owl injured in the forest one day and brought it home to keep as a pet. As he was three then, Harry had no problem believing me.

As the song ended with a final, "Makes no difference to me," the Dursleys started coming in the kitchen. However, having inherited quick reflexes from my father and speed from my mother, the food was on the table before they sat down.

They began to eat, not even noticing that Harry hadn't gotten up yet. Maybe they hoped he'd died in his sleep. I went to his cupboard, unlocked the door, and knocked softly.

"Harry, time to get up. Breakfast is on the table."

I heard him groan, roll over and murmur, "I'm not hungry, Tash. Leave me alone."

I frowned. Something was wrong here. It was very strange for Harry not to be hungry. I opened the door and sat down on the foot of his bed. He had his face hidden in his pillow.

"What's the matter?" I asked, ruffling his already untidy hair.

"Nothing. I'm not hungry. Just sleepy. Very sleepy," he said.

I looked at him sadly. "Another nightmare?"

He nodded, his head still in the pillow. He'd been having the same nightmare every night for a few years now. A high, cold, and mirthless laughter, followed by a flash of green light and searing pain.

I'd had the same dream, but only once. And mine was longer, more detailed. Everything that had happened that night. The scar, burning brightly on my shoulder. And him. Lord Voldemort, the wizard who killed my mother and father. His livid red eyes shining out from the darkness of his cloak, his cry of anger as his curse rebounded upon him. I shook my head, clearing the dream away as I started to run my hand through his hair.

"Well, if you get hungry, just let me know. I'll save you some breakfast."

He murmured a muffled thanks and went back to sleep. I smiled at him before leaving and heading toward the kitchen. I sat down at the table and started to eat.

"Where's the boy?" Uncle Vernon asked harshly.

"As if you care. He's still asleep. I left some breakfast for him in the living room," I said, in an icy tone.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had never cared about Harry. And Dudley? Dudley treated Harry as if he were something stuck to the sole of his shoe.

I heard the click of the mail slot. Before Uncle Vernon could say, "Get the mail, Tasha.", I had gotten up, ran to the front door, and picked up the mail, quickly sorting through it, looking for the green handwriting and- there it was! It took all the strength I had not to scream out, "YES!" because Harry was still asleep.

The reason I was so eager for my letter was because I had turned 11 last year. My birthday was October 30, the day before Voldemort attacked. Since I turned eleven after September 1, I had to wait another year to start.

'How am I going to tell Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?' I wondered.

I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table to eat. I deliberately exaggerated opening the letter.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took one look at the letter and paled.

"Tasha. Take your breakfast to your room. Eat it there. Then stay up there," Uncle Vernon said.

I blinked, as if I didn't know what he was talking about. "What do you mean, Uncle Vernon?"

"GO. UPSTAIRS!" he yelled.

I jumped up from the table, grabbed a plate of food and walked out of the kitchen.

I walked up the steps to my room, flicking open the letter and reading it with pride.

I unlocked Merc's cage with the key and let him fly around my room while I looked up a family friend to ask to come get me.

You see, after the attack, I kind of took my father's address book and journal, so I know all of his friends and where they live.

I looked at a couple of names. Most of them had been crossed out. I knew that meant they had been killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

I was almost through with the book when I reached a name that wasn't crossed out.

"Hmm...Arthur Weasley."

I began to write my letter, wondering what Arthur Weasley and his family were like.

I suppose my father must have been friends with him.

There were the initials MoM next to his name, so I guess that meant Ministry of Magic.

My father had worked at MoM as an Auror, a dark wizard catcher. But you probably know what that is.

When I finished my letter, it looked like this:

Dear Arthur Weasley and family,

     My name is Tasha Potter, Harry Potter's older sister. As you may know, I have lived with Muggles ever since You-Know-Who killed my parents. So, I was hoping that maybe you could come get me and take me to Diagon Alley to get school supplies. My guardians being Muggles, they don't understand the importance of my education as a witch. I'd be very grateful if you would just grant my request. Thanks in advance,

     Tasha Lily Potter

I read and reread it several times. When I was satisfied, I slipped it in an envelope, addressed it 'Arthur Weasley', and gave it to Mercury.

As I watched the magnificent bird fly away, I heard a little sound outside my door. I looked at it and it creaked open, revealing little Harry, still in his pajamas, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"...Yes?" I asked.

"...I'm hungry now. Can I have my breakfast?"

I smiled at him. "Sure. I left it in the living room." I walked downstairs with him, taking a glance out the window...where my freedom lived.

Okay, is it just me or did that sound really corny? But seriously, I wasn't free until I left this stupid house and was where I belonged. Among my kind.

I picked up the plate of food I'd left for Harry and handed it to him. I moved some of Dudley's presents so we could sit down.

I guess you could say I kind of look after my little brother. Well, someone has to. If no one did, just imagine how much more lonely the little boy would be.

Dudley came running into the living room, causing the floor to shake slightly.

"Move. I'm going to open my presents."

I glared at him. "Then move your presents."

"No, I told you to move."

"And I told you to move your stupid gifts. You forget, Dudley, that I'm still older than you by a good three years."

Dudley seemed to remember this and sat down on the floor, grabbing present after present and ripping the paper off.

I told Harry to go get dressed as I went to do the same. We'd probably be shoved over to Mrs. Figg's for the day. Again, I'm not complaining. Mrs. Figg was nicer than these stinking Muggles anyway.

When I came downstairs, Harry was waiting for me at the front door. The Dursleys had already left, giving Harry strict orders to leave as soon as I came down.

We went out the front door and walked across the street. I rang the doorbell and waited for Mrs. Figg to answer.

She came to the door and smiled at me.

"Hello, Mrs. Figg! It's Dudley's birthday and the Dursley's told us to come here, if it's all right with you?" I explained, smiling cheerfully.

"Of course, Tasha. Come on in."

I took Harry's hand and went inside. The house smelled strongly of cabbage and pictures of cats were all over the walls.

I looked around the house. Among the pictures of cats, there was a photograph of a pretty girl standing next to a teenage boy who looked strangely familiar....He had black hair and his eyes were full of laughter. I know I'd seen him before, I just couldn't remember where....

"I see you've found Arabella."

I jumped. Mrs. Figg had noticed me looking at the picture and come up behind me.

She smiled at the picture. "This is my daughter, Arabella. The young man standing next to her was one of her best friends. Oh, let's see...what was that young man's name? I can't seem to remember....Anyway, they both went to the same school and became good friends there," she said.

"What school did they go to?" I asked her.

She thought for a few minutes. "Oh, dear, you know my memory's just not what it used to be. Don't worry. It'll come to me sooner or later," she said.

As she walked away, I looked at the picture again. I just knew I'd seen that boy somewhere...but where?

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. I wandered around the house, looking for something that might catch my eye.

In doing so, I found a room. The only locked room in the entire house.

It intrigued me. I pulled out Mum's wand.

"Alohomora!" I whispered.

The door swung open. Inside, it looked rather like an attic. And if I hadn't been busy looking around the attic, I would've noticed the door shut and lock behind me.

Underneath a sealed-shut window draped in dark curtains, there was a pile of boxes. I pulled the drapes apart and let some daylight into the room as I sat down to investigate one of the boxes.

In it, I found several things: a large book, several jewelry boxes, and a red and gold feather.

I picked up the book. It was very heavy.

It was a photo album. The first thing I noticed about it was that the pictures were moving! Only wizard pictures did that!

But...how would Mrs. Figg have a photo album with moving pictures? On the first page, it showed an eleven-year-old girl holding up a cage with and owl in it and smiling nervously but excitedly.

I turned the page and gasped. It was a picture of my mother and father!

~*~

~Lyzz Potter