Harry, Anna, Luke and Sophie Potter have never played a sport while flying on a broomstick. They've never worn a Cloak of Invisibility, befriended a giant, or helped hatch a dragon. All they know is a miserable life with the Dursleys, their horrible...
Having seen Lily J. Evans listed as a name, I was unsure after looking at some answers to the middle name question whether 'J' was meant to refer to 'James' or not and decided to make Lily's middle name 'Jade' for her eyes. This is not canon from what I can tell.
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𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟷
Sophie shook me awake on Saturday morning, whispering about how we have to make sure we don't burn the bacon for Dudley's breakfast, since it's his birthday. My response is more of a groan than a sentence, but she gets the gist of it anyway.
"Come on, Anna, we have to go downstairs like, five minutes ago," she hisses, pulling one of her shoes on even as she speaks. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm going."
Left alone in the dark attic, I stay where I am for a long moment, unsure of what I should do. I'll be in loads of trouble should Aunt Petunia notice my absence from the kitchen, but I'm also the most liable to burn the breakfast. I seem to have a habit of accidentally setting what I cook on fire... often in the weirdest colours...
I'm never going to forget the time I managed to start some kind of green fire while making toast.
I get dressed, deciding that I'll take the responsibility of setting the table. My hair's left loose as a result, since there's no chance of it getting caught on anything in the kitchen. It's long enough to manage that... and it has.
Multiple times.
Sophie's hair in contrast is in an eternal messy state, having never grown since the day she took it into her head that she wanted short hair and chopped at it until Dudley caught her with the scissors.
Since Aunt Petunia was out that afternoon, Dudley decided he was best equipped to deal with the mess, and so now Sophie looks like a boy, and has done for the past two and a half years. Aunt Petunia doesn't allow Sophie to leave the house without one of these fabric headbands to highlight the fact that she really is a girl, one of our aunt's many hair accessories that never really get used by anyone else except the week around Halloween.
From the nearest Sunday to the Saturday after, Aunt Petunia pulls out a specific box of different clips and hairbands and will spend a while deliberating over which ones she will let me wear for the day. I have never asked why this tradition is a thing, as she is not exactly private in her dislike of the four of us, but last year I did get a better look at the box than ever before.
The box was simple, and I've never seen it dusty even though it never gets used outside of the Halloween weeks. Its contents are rather wacky, wild patterns on the hairbands and strange rune-like symbols for the hairclips. There were flowers, lots of flowers, most notably roses, which are always the only pair of clips used on Halloween itself. That never changes. Anyway, the box was a small, unassuming wooden one, though painted with swirly flowers and with a name marked out in tiny, painstakingly neat writing.
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