Lily in the Shadows

Prologue

Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley, and in their opinion, there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.

The Dursleys awoke and prepared for the day like any other, Mr Dursley getting dressed in a drab suit and tie, whilst Mrs Dursley blabbed on incessantly about "Mrs No-one-cares and Mr What's-his-name and their new baby", all the while struggling to put their little 'Angel' into his high chair. As far as they were concerned, this day was like every other. Mr Dursley only realised things were amiss on his way to work, where he saw a very strange group of people. All of them were wearing long cloaks and dress-like garments, but he simply shrugged and assumed they were a part of some fundraising organisation. It wasn't until he heard them speaking about the Potters and their son Harry that he began to worry.

Once arriving home from work, Mr Dursley deliberated long and hard about asking Mrs Dursley about her sister's son, though he knew it would end horribly as the topic of her sister always upset her. They spoke of it for a moment before Mrs Dursley confirmed that her sister's son was indeed called Harry. She then rolled over and fell asleep. Mr Dursley lay there, worrying, but decided there was nothing he could do about it but to get some rest as well.

Little did the Dursleys know that while they slept peacefully, a very important conversation was happening right on their street.

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Albus Dumbledore is known as one of the greatest wizards who ever lived. Seen by many as a powerful man and an intelligent mentor. He appeared on Privet Drive one October night, seemingly from thin air. Appearing on the street, he uses a strange sort of tool to diminish all of the street lights. Walking along the road, he meets a strict-looking woman who asks many questions about the events that happened earlier that night. There's talk of much sadness and celebration. They talk of a boy whose life is now ruined and who is being brought to them by a trusted friend. As they finished their deep conversation, a rumbling is heard, followed by a light in the distant sky. Hagrid, the half-giant, steps down from the loud motorbike with a great thump, in his great arms, a tiny bundle cuddled close to his chest. If one were to look closer, they would see the face of a tiny child swaddled in an emerald green blanket; little red tufts of hair pressed against a tiny head.

"Did you have a safe trip, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked over his half-moon spectacles, eyes twinkling as they landed on the bundle.

"Yes, sir, he fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol. The girl is still awake, was when I got there an' hasn' slept a'tall. Don' know why."

"Girl!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed in surprise, "There was a second child?" Dumbledore stares at Hagrid with surprise, as he also had no idea.

"Yes'm. Found her in another room down the hall from little Harry here. She was a calm little thing, wouldn' o' heard her 'a'tall had she not kicked the cot. When I wen' in, she was a laying there just lookin' at me. Her room was probably the only thin' in the house not blown up." Hagrid held out the tiny bundle to Professor McGonagall.

"Do you know how old she is, Hagrid?" The older woman asked, her eyes not leaving the babies' captivating green.

" 'Bout a week, I s'pose. Saw her on 'er blanket an' had a feelin' I best be gettin' her outta there." Hagrid pulled a much larger bundle out of his cloak pocket, a sea of unruly jet-black hair visible above the fabric. The two professors leaned over to see a scar on his head, looking like lightning as it crashes across the sky, causing them to mutter amongst themselves. It wasn't until they heard a small squeal from the baby in Professor McGonagall's arms that they halted.

Looking back to her, Dumbledore motions that it is time to go. He takes the little boy from Hagrid and sets him on the Dursleys' doorstep with a prewritten letter, sealed with wax. Then, turning back to Professor McGonagall, he looks to the smaller babe, thinking. He retrieved a quill and an inkwell out of one of his many pockets. The wizard writes quickly on a piece of parchment he received from Hagrid, and once he was finished, he signalled Professor McGonagall to set the child on the doorstep, gently placing the paper on her as well. They all exchanged looks before saying their goodbyes.

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The next morning, to say the Dursleys were surprised would be an understatement; they were rather horrified and shocked beyond comprehension. Mrs Dursley picked up the smallest child in her little green blanket and the letter, as she already knew of the boy's existence. After reading the letter telling her the child's name and birthday, she takes a good look at her and freezes. Those eyes. That hair. She looks exactly like her. Mrs Dursley rushed into the house with the child, leaving her husband to fetch the boy and bring him in.

Mrs Dursley set the girl in her son's playpen and rushed to the storage closet under the stairs, searching through old boxes and photo albums until she found what she was looking for. Rushing back into the living room, she holds up a photo of a little redheaded baby next to the child. Impossible, they look the exact same.

As she looked at the girl, something stirred within her. Guilt, crushing guilt over the way she treated her sister. This was her chance to make amends for all she had done. She would raise this child as her very own. She looked to the boy in her husband's arms and saw nothing but the good-for-nothing husband her sister married. Hate and disgust filled her the longer she stared at the boy. Mrs Dursley told her husband her plans to raise the girl as their daughter, and he agreed. Mr Dursley walked over and looked down at the baby in his wife's arms. The older woman smiled at the baby, and she smiled back.

Mrs Dursley held the child and watched as she fell asleep, leaning down, she whispered to her, "Welcome to the family, Lily-Kathryn."