Death's Kiss: Part I

Thunder screamed through the dark sky coated in light blue blanket of storm clouds. Lightning threatened to strike. Rain flushed down Privet Drive as if it had transformed into a river. Another scream of thunder bolted Harry Potter from his nightmares. He numbly scrambled to find his glasses on his bedside table. He retrieved them and threw them onto his cold sweaty face. Tuffs of frowzy black hair clung to his forehead. A few seconds later, he heard the sound that had awoken him so horridly from his nightmares. He darted to the dirty window. Rain whooshed against it in a power that was almost angry. He struggled to see through the water. Quick flashes of lightning, that struck dangerously close to the tip of the house, illuminated the scene before him. A girl. Outside. Pouring rain. Thunder. Sobbing. Tears. Fear. Drenched dark hair. Lids closed. Beneath them lay almost frightfully electric blue eyes. Screaming. Harry tore his eyes away from the window. There was a girl, stranded outside of 24 Privet Drive. Harry's hero instincts drove him from his room, quickly and quietly down the stairs, and outside. Rain pelted him with cold heavy drops of ice. The water blinded Harry as he slipped down the driveway to where a young girl was sitting by the mailbox, drenched.

"Let me help you!" Harry called out to her over the thunder and storm. The girl looked up, her eyes piercing him, with fright. Harry offered her a hand, forgetting completely that he was dressed only in his boxer shorts. The girl hid a small smile and a little laugh and took his hand. Harry helped her stand up.

"Thank you!"

Harry nodded once. The girl picked up her belongings that had been helping shield her from the cold rain. Harry grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her quickly out of the rain and into the house.

"What the bloody hell are you doing sitting out in a storm like that?!" Harry exclaimed forgetting that the Dursley's were sound asleep just upstairs.

"Hello, Harry," the girl greeted him with a smile. "Long time, no see."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"H-How do you know my name?" he stuttered. The girl sighed impatiently.

"Just get me up the stairs and I'll tell you while I'm unpacking. Deal?" she answered with a slight attitude.

Seeing as he had no other choice; the girl was very demanding; Harry helped the girl carry her things and he brought her up to his room.

"Well, this room is quite...small," the girl said a disgusted tone in her voice. "But I guess it'll have to do." She plopped herself rudely down on Harry's bed.

"Uh... yeah, this is my room," Harry told her.

"Oh... good," the girl sighed. "I thought I would have to stay in this tiny old room for the rest of the summer." She got up off the bed. "Do you mind unpacking my things for me?" the girl asked him, pointing at her suitcase, with an angelic smile on her face.

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are? Yes, I mind!" Harry said rage stirring up inside him.

"Ooo, feisty aren't we?" the girl smirked. Harry took a deep breath greatly regretting letting her into his house. He should've just bloody well left her out in the rain.

"I'll throw you back out in the rain if you don't explain what the hell is going on here, right now!" Harry hissed, remembering that his aunt, uncle, and cousin were still asleep. The girl glanced at the rain smashing against the window in fury.

"Very well," the girl said with a sigh. She sat herself down in Harry's desk chair. "Sit there, Potter," she said pointing to his bed. "I have a lot to tell you, Harry Potter. So you best keep your mind open."

"Go on," Harry urged.

"My name is Allison Potter," the girl said.

"Wait! Potter?"

"I said keep your mind open. I have a lot to tell you!" Allison reminded him. Harry sighed in defeat and let her go on. "I am Allison Potter, the only remaining witch in our family. Harry, I'm your cousin."

"Wait, how?!"

"My father is Matthew Potter, James Potter's younger brother."

"My father didn't have a brother, Allison. You are mistaken," Harry grunted.

"No," Allison corrected. "That's where you're wrong. In truth, you hardly know anything about our family. James did have a brother. His name was Matthew and that's my father," Allison explained.

"Well, if you have a family then why the hell are you here?"

"I'm getting to that!" Allison exclaimed.

"Won't you be quiet; you're going to wake them up!"

"Who?"

"My aunt, uncle, and cousin."

Allison looked at the door as if they might burst in at any moment. Then she turned back to Harry.

"Your parents weren't the only ones killed by Voldemort," Allison muttered. Her voice held a hidden cry almost as if she were wishing what she had said wasn't true.

"Well then, if your parents were killed by Voldemort then where were you in all this mess?" Harry said starting to get angry.

"And you may be the boy-who-lived, but you're certainly not the only person who lived," Allison said. She tucked a piece of hair behind her left ear, revealing a lightning bolt shaped scar on the side of her temple that exactly matched the one Harry supported on his own forehead. "We're closer than you may think, Harry."