Ikigai - a hp fan fiction

Whoa, what happened to the glass?

THIRD PERSON POV

Valerie Potter is Harry Potter's older sister by ten minutes. Which she claims were "the best ten minutes of her life" which was never true.

Never mind that. The Potter's live at number 4 Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey, England. However, they don't live with their parents. Why is that? Their parents died when they were only a year old. It happened in a car wreck, a car wreck that gave young Harry a lightning bolt shaped scar on his head, and young Valerie a triangle shaped scar on her neck.

Now, they live with the Dursleys, who are the children's mother's sister's family. The Dursley's consist of three people; Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. Vernon is a beefy man with hardly any neck and a very large mustache; he's the director of a firm called Grunnings, which makes drills. Petunia is thin, blonde, and has a rather long neck; she has no job but to be a curtain twitcher, and gossip about her neighbors with her husband and son. Which, finally, brings us to Dudley, he's a very thick boy, who has blonde hair, and is rather violent toward his younger cousin.

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POV SWITCH - Valerie's POV

This morning, I was laying in my bed. Tugging on my necklace, thinking about how unfair life is to my brother. Why do I get a room, and Harry gets a cupboard underneath the stairs? According to my aunt, I am a "young woman" and "need space away from boys." Personally, I think it's because she always wanted a girl, and I'll be the closest she ever gets to having one.

My aunt was easier on me than she was on Harry. Petunia would ask me how I was, but she still let my uncle get on me about stuff. Although she always made sure he never went too far with punishments, she made sure I ate; she made sure I had clothes that fit. She was just nicer to me. I know it's unfair, which is why I usually try to share whatever she gives me with Harry. Someone has to take care of him, and that someone will never be my aunt and definitely will NOT be my uncle.

It was currently 7:58 in the morning. In a few minutes either my uncle or aunt would come and start banging on my door, telling me to get up. Today was a special day. Sort of. (It was Dudley's birthday, if that counts as special.)

I stretched out my limbs and shook out all the tiredness, and stood up out of my bed. Walking over to my small dresser, I grabbed black tights, a red and black plaid skirt, a red turtleneck, and a black blazer. I changed and walked out into the hall to the bathroom. I washed my face, brushed my hair out and tied part of it back, then I brushed my teeth and walked downstairs where my aunt was starting breakfast.

"Valerie, darling, wake up the boy, will you?" Petunia commanded.

"Harry?" I questioned. Not waiting for her reply, I walked to Harry's cupboard under the stairs and quietly knocked on the door. When he didn't reply, I unlocked the top of it.

Yes, they have a lock on the outside of his door. I'm pretty sure that breaks a dozen child endangerment laws, but not feeding a child as punishment probably does as well. I opened the door. "Harry?" I whispered into the dark and cramped space. "Are you up?"

"Barely." My younger twin replied. He sat up and turned on the single light bulb, then rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses. I sent him a sad smile.

"VALERIE! TELL THE BOY TO GET IN HERE AND FINISH THE BACON!" Petunia yelled from the kitchen. I looked over at the door to the kitchen and rolled my eyes.

"Harry, Petunia has kindly requested for you to finish the bacon." I joked, turning my head toward him. He grinned at me, then I stood up, "Take your time, ickle brother." I smirked at him and walked back into the kitchen. My uncle now sat at the table, reading the newspaper. "Morning." I greeted him. He grunted in return, still looking down at the paper. I heard Dudley running down the stairs and jumping around above my twin's "room." The pudgy boy ran into the kitchen and immediately turned into the living area. He started counting the wrapping-covered items. It looked as though he was having a troublesome time, as his face would contort every now and again.