Gwyn Sawyer: Girl, Wizard, Heroine

Prologue

It should be my brother Harry writing this. The story is mostly about him anyway, but he just started Auror training at the Ministry of Magic, and he doesn't have much time for writing our story. Anyway, he said that since the story says a great deal about our sister Sharon, then I should tell it since I knew her better than he did.

Sharon and I are identical twins; she's only slightly my elder. Most people couldn't see it, but if you looked real closely at Sharon and me, then you could see the difference between us. Although she had the same emerald green eyes that Harry and I both have, hers were always full of menace and hatred. She wore the darkness around her like a cape. Of the four Potter children, one fell to the Dark Side, and was born under its influence.

When Voldemort attacked our parents home, he passed over us twins first. He could sense the darkness in Sharon and hoped that--since we were twins--one day I would follow her to the Dark Side. So he left us be. Our eldest brother, Mark, Voldemort placed under a spell that would hold him in time. Professor Dumbledore was able to take the spell off him, but couldn't undo its effects. Mark had been five years old when the spell was placed upon him, Harry was a year old, and Sharon and I only four months old and Mark now is four years younger than I am. It's weird when you think about it. He grew up in the Muggle world by the name of Mark Evans. Actually, he lived in a house not too far from his "younger" brother, Harry.

I'm sure that you know all about Harry, my brother who defeated Voldemort when he was a year old and became the Boy-Who-Lived. He grew up with Mum's sister, our Aunt Petunia, and Sharon and I grew up in a Muggle orphanage in London. Because I was a year younger and didn't have the same surname as him, he didn't notice me. And it would be years before I told him that he was my older brother.

I am the youngest of the Potter children, but I was the one who would save my brother's life and ultimately decide whether to let the Order of the Phoenix deal with our sister or take her in to the Ministry of Magic. And I only turned seventeen two months ago. My name is Gwyn Potter-Sawyer.

* * *

Chapter One

"Although the Boy-Who-Lived survived once again in a fight against You-Know-Who, several of the fighters against You-Know-Who fell . . . blah, blah, blah, the same old junk about our idiot hero brother," Sharon read aloud from the Daily Prophet. "It's amazing how they can turn a boy who was a liar back into the bloody 'Boy-Who-Lived' so fast. I mean, it's only been a year since they announced that Voldemort was back."

"Cut it out, Sharon," I said automatically as I scribbled down another sentence in my Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. "You know, he's not that bad. He's actually a good guy, our brother. But you refuse to get to know him just because he's a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin. In case you haven't noticed, Sharon Turner, I'm a Gryffindor."

"Well, eventually you're going to have to get a reality check and realise that you belong in Slytherin. And I hope it's real soon, little sister," Sharon smirked at me. "We're twins. We follow the same fate, whether you accept that or not."

"I am never going to be a Slytherin," I said, speaking slowly she couldn't mistake my sentence. "And I am not going to join up with Voldemort, no matter how many times you tell me it's the right path. Because I just don't believe it."

Sharon's emerald green eyes sparkled with anger. "So you'd rather never join up with him and suffer the same fate of our dear biological parents, is that it, little sister?"

"Yeah, that's it," I agreed, and Sharon's lips pressed tightly together. She stood up and stalked out of my room, slamming the door behind her. Shaking my head, I returned to my essay. But I got the feeling that this was only a slight serenity after the storm. A calm had come after it. And a hurricane was on its way. The only problem was that whenever I got the feeling something was going to happen, I was usually right.

* * *

"Gwyn?" a voice broke through my sleep, and I opened my eyes to see the director of the orphanage beside my bed. "There's someone here to see you. And your sister's missing."

"Missing?" I repeated, wide awake now. "Was she kidnapped? Or did she run away?" But the director merely shook her head, and I sighed. "Well, who's here? Somebody from Hog--from my school?"

"He says that he's a former teacher from your school. His name is Remus Lupin," the director said with a sigh, obviously annoyed at my questions. "Do you want to see him or not?"

Climbing out of bed, I hurried downstairs and saw my favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers (we've had a different one every year since I've started Hogwarts) standing in the entryway. "Professor Lupin!" I squealed, and threw my arms around him.

Apart from being one of my former teachers, Lupin was also one of my mum and dad's best friends. And he's the best friend of my brother's godfather. "What are you doing here?" I asked him as I released him.

"I don't come here bearing wonderful news. Gwyn, what exactly do you know about what your sister's been up to? Recently?" Lupin asked me gently. "Because we have reason to believe that Sharon's run away to join up with Voldemort."

"I know that she was talking about it," I answered hesitantly. "She also tried to talk me into joining up with him, but when I said I would never join up with him, she stalked out of my room. Do you really think she was serious about that?"

"Probably," Lupin said with a deep sigh. "And with the two of you being Harry's sisters, that makes this even more dangerous. Especially since he doesn't know."

"I thought Dumbledore was going to tell him on his seventeenth birthday," I said, frowning slightly at Lupin. "Harry's birthday was almost a month ago!"

"I know, but didn't you read the Daily Prophet about a month ago?" Lupin asked. "There was a major battle taken place at the Ministry, and Harry was there. Arthur was killed there, as well as Knightley, Jameston, and Reilly."

"Mr. Weasley?" I breathed in horror. I was friends with Ginny Weasley, who's in the same year as me, and her brother, Ron, is friends with my brother, Harry. "Mr. Weasley was killed?"

"Ginny . . . didn't write to you, did she?" Lupin asked, his eyebrows narrowed slightly. I shook my head, sinking down into a chair. "I didn't come over here to deliver this news, Gwyn," he admitted slightly. "But in light of recent events, Dumbledore thinks it would be safer to evacuate you and take you to Headquarters. It's safer for you there than it is here."

"We're leaving soon?" I asked him, surprised. I hadn't expected to leave the orphanage until September 1^st, when school started.

"Almost this very minute," Lupin answered with a nod of his head. "We can leave as soon as you get packed."

"I'm already packed," I answered with a shrug of my shoulders. "Anyway, the other girls and boys around here don't like me too much. Think I'm some sort of a witch."

Lupin gave a half-smile at that, and said, "Well, go get your trunk, and we'll be on our way. I've got a Portkey that Dumbledore authorised."

I grinned, and hurried up the stairs, throwing my door opened and grabbed my trunk, dragging it back down to where Lupin was waiting. "Got your trunk? Okay, on three," he said as he pulled out a handkerchief and instructed me to take it. "One . . . two . . . three . . ."

I felt a sharp jerk somewhere behind my navel and then the orphanage disappeared and I felt myself flying through space . . .

* * *

. . . and I landed in the entryway of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, the secret organisation against Voldemort. Staggering slightly, I managed to stay upright, but felt slightly dizzy. This is not my favourite way to travel. I thought warily.

"All right," Lupin said softly. "There's a meeting going on, and I have to go. Your room is the third landing, second door on the left. Go to bed, Gwyn, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay," I said uncertainly, grabbing hold of my trunk and carrying it upstairs. When I reached the third landing, I opened the second door on the left and pulled my trunk through.

Pushing it against the bed, I fell backwards onto the bed, pushing a hand through my untameable dark hair, the same dark hair as my father and brother's. Curling up into a ball, I wondered if it was possible that my own twin sister would betray our unrevealed brother and me? Our brother who was right in a room on the floor below me? With a sigh, I fell into a restless sleep.

* * *