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Harry Potter and the Forgotten Child by Jsez444
Chapter 1 : Dark Descendant
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 2


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On the outskirts of Boreo, a small rural village just outside Degoso, Spain, there sat a mysterious little house. It looked much like the rest of the houses in the village, small, square with a lightly pitched clay shingled roof. It had windows and doors like a normal house and even a small welcome mat out front.  No it wasn’t the appearance of the house that gained it notoriety among the villagers, what made this house so mysterious was how it got there.  Really it was the fact that no one knew how it got there.  

One morning back in the mid seventies it had just appeared there on the corner. The people of the village were at a loss to explain it and though they checked could find no record of it having been built.  Though it was a rather modest building even Mr. Guerrero the town contractor was surprised at how quickly it had been constructed on a lot where no one seemed to believe a house could have fit anyways. The town manager himself admitted having no records of the lot being purchased but insisted that if those records did exist, they would be private.  

The inhabitants of the house were never seen by anyone and many speculated as to whether anyone lived there at all.  For five years it sat dark and seemingly unused until one day, just as people had started to ignore the house and give up on the mystery, a blue light was seen flickering through the crack of the closed shutters as if from a television.  No one had seen anyone entering or exiting the house; no cableman or electrician.  It really had the village folk perplexed.  Every night from that day forward the same blue flickering light could be seen dancing behind the shutters. No sound came from the house and nobody ever dared knock on the door. The house became a bit of a legend earning the nickname Casa del Misterio.  

The more superstitious people always gave it a wide berth when walking by, never looking directly at it, wary of sinister spirits. Eventually the novelty and mystery faded.  As even more time passed people began simply giving a puzzled shake of the head if they noticed the flickering blue light on an evening stroll.

On this particular evening however, some 22 years later, someone approached the house with a clear purpose.  Unseen by any of the towns people a dark cloaked figure scurried down the street.  Flitting from shadow to shadow she startled as a bat flew low over her head.  Drawing her wand she flattened herself against the wall of the muggle house she was lurking behind. She heard the plump woman inside pause while cleaning the dishes and look up at the window she crouched below. After waiting to hear the water run again in the sink inside she continued on, wand at the ready now, moving slower and more cautiously, careful not to be spotted. She knew that everything had not gone to plan, she could not proceed as hoped even now that the war had ended. Secrecy was still a necessity. 

Finally reaching her destination she tapped lightly on the front door of the house.  There was no response; she waited nervously before knocking again, slightly louder this time glancing over her shoulder to ensure her continued privacy.  She heard movement on the other side of the door; the creaking of a chair and muffled footsteps.  There was a pause and then came the sliding of the door latch. The door was pulled open slightly and the tip of a wand appeared illuminating her face.

“Lils, please open the door.  It’s your mother.” She drew back the hood of her cloak enough to reveal a gaunt pale face framed by silver hair.

The door opened just enough so that the wand could be pointed directly at her chest revealing a slight female hand protruding from blood red robes.

“Wha-, what are you doing?  Put that down, it’s me…”

“What is my middle name?” hissed the figure in the doorway suspiciously.

“Who could I be? No one knows of this place. Besides, it’s over L-”

“Answer me!”

“Eileen.” The figure whispered forcefully glancing around again to see if anyone had heard her enraged daughter, “Now let me in.”

At the sound of her mother’s correct answer Lily turned abruptly retreating across the room to an old recliner set in front of a television set. She left the door ajar slightly indicating it was ok for her mother to enter.

Stepping quickly inside and closing the door silently behind her the woman glared at her daughter, “What is wrong with you Lil?” She stared at the back of her daughter's head covered in pitch black hair infuriated by her incessant hostility.  Realizing that she was being ignored she took a moment to glance around the room.  It was different from the last time she had entered it.  The room was nearly empty besides the chair and television, all other furniture had vanished and looking through to the kitchen she could see it was empty too not a crumb to be seen on the countertops.  The floor in front of the chair was littered with newspapers and a large bookshelf stood in a dark corner but everything else was gone.

The young witch curled up in the chair, her knees drawn to her chest, she stared unblinking at the muggle newscaster ignoring her mother as though still alone in the room.

“Police are still trying to recover any evidence to explain the un-permitted fireworks display from this past weekend in Scottland.  The display was so extravagant it was visible for nearly 50 miles and is thought to be the cause of multiple rock slides in the area.”

​The witch snickered to herself, “Muggles will believe anything.” She had always been amazed that the Dark Lord viewed muggles as a threat to wizards.  She saw them as at worst a nuisance and at best very entertaining to watch, like the monkeys on the Discovery channel. Clearly inferior to wizards in every way she could not see the advantage some did in breeding with them however she held them no outright enmity.  

“What was that Lils?” 

She realized through her musings that her mother was staring at her from across the room a terrified expression on her face. 

“Have you gone mad?  What are you always watching the muggle news for?”

​“Relax mother,” without looking up she flicked her wand and a second chair appeared wooden and much less comfortable looking than the recliner she herself sat in.  “Have a seat.  Muggle television programming can be quite entertaining you know.”  

​At first the older witch looked mutinous but after consideration swept across the room and dropped into the chair, turning it to face her daughter instead of the television.  It had been months since they’d been together and she thought she noticed a change in Lily’s appearance.  It was the same sharp but pretty features and smoky grey eyes she knew quite well but the expression behind them was one she hadn’t ever seen. Lily merely smiled foolishly at the new headline on the screen:  “Ornithologists claim drastic miscalculation in owl population” still quite determined not to give in to her mother’s attempts to engage her.

​“Is this all you do in here?  All day long sit in front of that screen staring mindlessly.” There was no response.  “Why won’t you come out now Lil?  She was pleading now. “The war is over, the Dark Lord has gone.  There is nothing to be afraid of. We can find a way to get you out of here, make up a story, new identities-”

Lily finally turned to look directly into her mother’s green eyes that were so unlike her own, the older woman was struck dumb by the intensity of her gaze. She calmly snipped, “Oh, I am not afraid mother.  I have never been afraid.  Besides,” she smirked.  “I am not the one who should be afraid.”

Bewildered the older witch shook her head as though to clear it.  “What on earth does that mean?  Nobody has anything to fear anymore.  He is gone! The Dark Lord is no more!  I realize we may need to slightly revise our plan to ease you into the general population. What with your-”

“Perhaps there are worse things to fear than the Dark Lord mother.”

“W-Worse?” spluttered the witch.  She now looked terrified again.  Lily had returned her attention to the television however; apparently she did not intend to elaborate.

The light from the TV shone on the floor of the cabin revealing a thin layer of dust covering the wood. She was more than terrified now; her daughter had always been strange, solitary and forlorn.  She seemed to live in her own world within her thoughts, thoughts she would never share with her mother.  It was to be expected, locked up in seclusion for all these years. However, she was somehow different tonight, something about the way she was grinning so maliciously made her mother shudder with apprehension.  Suddenly infused with rage at her daughter’s cryptic behavior she barked out, “Will you turn that blasted thing off!”

Lily raised her wand lazily making a slow circling motion the television grew louder.  “The fog that had settled over Europe for most of the past year is finally beginning to recede.” Boomed the muggle weather man gesturing toward a large map with bright yellow suns floating here and there.  “In fact it looks as though that rain I promised yesterday has just evaporated.  Sunshine for the rest of the week predicted, so get those swim trunks back out a-”

“Silencio!” He was cut off mid sentence, it was now her mother’s wand directed at the television.  She was huffing with rage now. “Someone will hear!” She hissed urgently, “Please talk to me Lily dear.  What is going on?”

Lily turned to face her mother once more her smile lessened by a look of irritation.  “My father came to me last week.  He told me what must happen.  He knew, there was a battle coming and he knew he was going to die.” A tear leaked from the corner of her eye rolling down her cheek.  “I begged him to let me help, there had to be another way.  I have grown powerful, more powerful even than him.  I could have helped!”

A large tawny owl suddenly swooped though the open window, dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet at her feet, and landed gracefully on the arm of the chair.  Without even picking up the paper she could see the headline, “MEMORIAL TO BE ERECTED HONORING THOSE WHO DIED IN THE BATTLE FOR HOGWARTS.”

Her mother leaned over to see; beneath the newest addition to the pile of old newspapers other headlines were still visible; HARRY POTTER DEFEATS HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED, KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT NAMED NEW MINISTER FOR MAGIC, DEATH EATER TRIALS TO BEGIN NEXT WEEK.

It had been 2 days since the largest wizarding battle in 50 years.  The Dark Lord had led his forces against the wizarding school Hogwarts where supporters of Harry Potter fought and died for him.  In the end Harry Potter stood victorious over the crumpled body of Lord Voldemort and the celebrations began.  It seemed that everyone in the world was rejoicing the fall of the most feared dark wizard of all time.

Below the main headline Lily noticed a smaller article in the corner written by Rita Skeeter entitled THE GIRL WHO LOVED THE BOY WHO LIVED. “Everybody loves Harry Potter so much.” Lily spoke the words with great disgust.

“Wha-” she gaped open mouthed at her daughter.

“Why should we be the ones hiding, disguising our identities? What makes us any less worthy of a normal life?” She looked her mother in the face again. Her eyes were excited now, like a child who knew they were about to go to the zoo.  “With the Dark Lord gone all guards are down, people think there is nothing to worry about anymore.  But they don’t know, they don’t know what their so called ‘hero’ caused, who he hurt.”

It seemed that the young boy Harry Potter’s fame had reached new heights in the past few days.  The very day after the battle people began demanding to see him.  Only increasing the hype, Potter went into hiding.  All signs showed that he remained at Hogwarts School but Minerva McGonagall, the newly named Head Mistress, denied these rumors insisting the boy had traveled abroad to escape the madness and begged reporters and admirers to give him some space after his long ordeal.  

“Long ordeal,” she thought out loud, “If only they knew.”  She pronounced angrily to the newspaper on the floor.

She had spent 22 years in this wretched house. Since the day she was born all she had known about the outside world she saw on the muggle television set in front of her.  It had been a gift from her father to help her pass the time. Besides watching the tele she had read every book in the house which her father also provided. He insisted that she needed as much knowledge as possible for when her time came to emerge.  She trained beneath him and learned everything he knew, even besting him in many areas of magic. He was the only person she had ever cared for and Harry Potter had taken him from her.

A sharp nip on her arm brought her out of her thoughts; the delivery owl was looking for payment.  As she slipped a knut into the pouch on the birds leg and watched it soar out the window she remembered that her mother was still with her.

The older witch was busy looking at the papers as well however; she had barely noticed her daughter muttering to herself.  Finally returning her gaze to Lily she pleaded. “Lil, what are you saying?  Harry Potter?  You can’t, why can’t you just let it go?  Get on with your life!”  

The stare with which Lily fixed her mother made her stop short.  She stood and backed away from her daughter; it was not her little Lily looking back at her anymore.  A crazed, desperate girl was staring daggers at her, and suddenly she was scared.  Inexplicably she felt her hand sliding toward her wand, wanting to feel its comforting grip.  

“Please Lil,” her voice was calmer now.  “I’m sorry, it’s just unnecessary.”  Pleading for reason, she found the handle of her wand in her pocket as her daughter stood up to face her.  She couldn’t understand why Lily was acting this way. “We are finally free to live in a world without war, why would you want to throw that away?”

Lily watched her mother whimpering in front of her and disgust overpowered her.  How could she have been born of such frailty?  Her father was strong, stronger then Harry Potter, more powerful, a much better wizard.  Her mother had no right to disgrace her name by showing such weakness.  She raised her wand without knowing what she was doing, heard a far off scream, a plea, her mother begging, but it was too far away to matter.  If she was not with her she had to be removed from the path that was so perfectly laid out.  A spell fired from her mother’s wand and she blocked it easily, books exploded on the shelf.  She had indeed grown very powerful.

“Lily, I’m sorry, you’re scaring me.  Please, just put your wand down.  Let’s talk about what you are doing.  I want to help you.”

“No mother, you can’t help me, you are too weak.  You would stand in my way; I can’t let anything else stand in my way.  Not now that I’m free.” She felt the power coursing through her begging for release.  She would finally be able to stretch her wings, to show the world what she was capable of.

“In your way?  Lily I’m your mother; what are you going to do?  I’m your mother Lily!  Here!”  She threw her wand to the ground at her daughter’s feet, tears now pouring from her eyes she dropped to her knees prostrating herself at the feet of her daughter.  “Please Lil.”

“Don’t beg mother, it is very unbecoming;” she sneered down with a look of disgust.  “Have some respect!  Show some pride in your daughter.  I will be avenging my father, doing what he wanted to do himself:  Exposing Harry Potter for the fraud that he is and erasing him from the world’s memory!”

“We know, we know the truth Lily!  What more do you need.  We should just live out our lives quietly, be happy that the Dark Lord is gone.  Your father’s service tore us apart but he knew what he was doing, he knew the risks.”

“Enough!  It does not take blame away from Potter! Were it not for his wretched existence none of it would have been necessary.  I will have my revenge and you will not stop me!”  A green light flashed from the end of Lily’s wand and her mother crumpled to the floor, lifeless.  

The room fell silent; Lily slumped back into the chair and looked to the ceiling, she was breathing heavily.  A feeling of relief swept over her, it had not been nearly as difficult as she expected to take the life of another.  She had practiced on spiders and rats in the house but the taking of a human life was supposed to rip the soul apart. On the contrary she felt invigorated and empowered by the act.  Still, it had not been the right time the yelling had made her lose control; she couldn’t afford to lose control.  Her plan would require flawless execution, any loss of composure and it would all fall apart. Her father had had it, strength, composure, nothing could faze him.  She had learned everything from him but was forced to live in secret.  He hid her from the Dark Lord so she would not be put in harm’s way but she wished he would have let her help, she could have helped.  She could even have killed the Dark Lord if he had wished it, she was sure of it. Then maybe he would be here now.  

With a casual flick of her wand sound filled the room once again echoing from the small television set. As a commercial played for a “magic” pimple removing cream Lily couldn’t help but laugh once more at the arrogance and stupidity of muggles.

She looked again at her mother’s body; she felt no remorse, she had not loved her.  She had always been so scared, so grateful to be safe, unwilling to make sacrifice.  Her father had made the ultimate sacrifice. She would clean up the mess in the morning before heading out.  The thought of leaving the house made her shudder in anticipation of what lay ahead.

Picking up the newest paper she looked again at the smaller article written by Rita Skeeter. Beneath the article was a picture of a pretty redheaded girl caught hugging Harry Potter in the aftermath of the final battle. Skeeter had apparently not been able to miss a chance at such raw footage and had snuck in after it was announced that the war had ended.  She always seemed to go for the gossipy stories. Who cared that the most evil wizard of all time had just been defeated when we finally knew who it was that Harry Potter was dating. Lily tossed the paper on the pile in disgust. 

“Still,” she thought out loud, “this could be useful information.”
In order for her plan to succeed she would need to be careful, it could not be an all out attack on the most famous wizard on the planet.  She needed to wait patiently for the perfect time to strike.  Not to mention the goal was not as simple as killing him. She would not be able to live with herself if she turned Harry Potter into a martyr.  She needed to smear his name across the history books in a way that would completely overshadow his so called “achievements”.

It was different now, she was not fighting for a cause; this was not about good or evil.  It was all personal.  Harry Potter was viewed as a saint by nearly the entire wizarding world; his story was thought to be courageous, selfless, and tragic.  She needed people to know the real story; Harry Potter killed her father.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first introductory chapter in my first ever HPFF. Please review and let me know about any mistakes or corrections you see. One thing I'm well aware of is that muggle electronics (the TV) aren't supposed to work well around magic. I'm going on the assumption that they were able to alter it in some way like Arthur did with the car and many other things.

Keep an eye out for the next chapter entitled 'Awakenings' where we'll get back to our main characters and the main plot of the story.

Thanks for reading!


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