Faded Away ↠H. Potter Twin [Dean Thomas]

part 1 (first year)

Letter from Kenneth Campbell to Marlene Potter - presumed to be dated winter of 1997:

Dearest Mary,

I do not know if it is in your heart to forgive us for all that we did and did not do for you, my darling girl, but know that I will move sky and earth if it could only ease the pain we have inflicted upon you, that you still carry to this day. I see it in your eyes every time you look at your mother and I. You may not regard us as parents anymore, but to us you will always be our daughter.

You asked me last night what really happened on the night of 31st October, 1981; how we came to find you. I could not answer. I cannot utter my shame to your face, but I can write it to you in a letter. Perhaps after reading this, you will hate us even more. Regardless, you deserve to know the truth.

You must already know, Mary, that everyone in our sleepy little village of Godric's Hollow has a secret. Some are as small as the village itself: first crushes, stolen kisses, scattering uneaten lunch for birds on the way home from school, tipping Mrs Sawyer's dreadful tea into a plant pot when she is not looking. Some are as large as the rolling stretches of farmland it is surrounded by: crippling debt, estranged children, extramarital affairs, and the wizarding population hiding in plain sight. Until one fateful evening when the bounds between the magical and Muggle world exploded, leaving behind deep fissures that even time could not heal.

At the time your mother and I had been living in Godric's Hollow for six years, and in that time we had only one secret that we kept locked away in the attic: a tiny cot kept cold by a series of miscarriages. But that was about to change. What had started as just another ordinary night had ended with a kidnapped baby cradled in our arms. Yes, my dear, you read that right. I will not hide behind gentler words to protect myself when I know that we have wronged.

Sophia and I had been watching our after-dinner television programme, as was our routine, when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," said Sophia, reaching for the receiver as I turned down the volume. "Oh, Nancy, it's you..."

There was nothing unusual about Nancy calling. She was a good friend of your mother's who was learning to cook at the time. So, I supposed she wanted to ask about correct baking temperatures or such. Instead, I watched Sophia's cheerfulness rapidly wane into a troubled frown as she listened to Nancy on the other end of the line. She hung up the phone and rushed to to the door to put on her coat.

"There's been an explosion a few streets away," she explained to me. "One of the houses. I'll see if anyone needs help. Nancy's rounding everyone up. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Shouldn't I come along?" I asked. I knew Sophia was a capable nurse, but the thought of her being in danger made my knees tremble. "Will it be safe?"

"Don't worry, Kenny," she said. "I'll be alright. I'll send for you if I need back up, but I doubt it. Half the village must have turned up. No use crowding up the place even more."

She kissed me goodbye, and I could only tell her to take care while hoping it would not be our last. I waited until her diminishing silhouette vanished from the canvas of fog and night before I closed the door. Sighing, I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. It was going to be a long night. I folded myself into a chair and waited for the water to come to a boil. Thought, might as well read something to nudge time forward instead of checking the clock every five minutes and wondering when my dear wife would return.

I had just poured myself a second cup of tea when three successive raps echoed on the front door. I rose to answer Sophia's distinctive knocking, surprised because I did not think she would be back so soon. The explosion must have been very minor, and she was not needed at all. Leave it to Nancy to exaggerate things.

When I opened the door, Sophia stood before me looking elated, but she was not alone. She carried a sleeping toddler in her arms. That was you, Mary. A sweet, innocent little thing, unaware of all the chaos unfolding around you.

A pang of fear gripped me. Not again, I thought.

"Look what I found, Kenny," said Sophia. She had a maniacal grin pulled across her face and a wild sort of wonder in her eyes.

"Where did you find the babe, Sophie?" I asked softly.

"It's a girl. She was in that crumbling house. I rescued her. Her father was dead."

I tried to remain calm, be methodical about it. You must forgive me from here on out, my darling Mary, because I asked her, "Did anyone see you?" and checked outside to make sure Sophia had not been followed. Then, I shut the door and locked it.

"What should we do?" I wondered aloud, speaking more to myself. I rubbed my chin anxiously as I considered our options.

Sophia stroked your cheek, careful to not wake you. "I want to keep her," she whispered, that strange gleam still dancing in her eyes.

I had been dreading that. I did not want her slipping into hysteria again. Not like the last time when she had stolen a baby from a hospital ward. I had been able to safely restore that baby before it was found missing. But that night, I was at a loss about where you belonged.

"Sophie," I said kindly. "We can't keep her just yet. What if her other relatives are searching for her? We need to inform the police."

"But -"

"We don't have any choice, my love."

I thought she would argue, but surprisingly she resigned. She nodded at me to go ahead. I could tell that she hoped that you were an orphan with no one to claim you. Sophia had been desperate for a child ever since the doctors told us we couldn't have any. I thought that perhaps adopting you would be the salve to her hysterical tendencies.

So, you see, Mary. That is how we got you. It was not in the noblest of ways, but I promise you that I tried my best to have you safely returned to your relatives. The police told us you did not have any. Muggles as they were, they did not have you or anyone in your family in the village records. You were a loose thread, Mary. A loose thread ripped short. They had no idea who you were; they had no idea where to even begin searching for the rest of your family. They put notices in the paper, but I suppose wizards do not read our newspapers. So, we formally adopted you, tied you into the tapestry of our family, your mother's and mine.

Love,

Da.

Note from the subject:

Marlene Potter is the name of the little girl the Campbells found, but she would not know that for ten years. For ten years, Marlene - or Mary, as she is more commonly known - would grow up in an unstable environment hidden from the public eye as much as possible. And it would only be after ten years, that she is reunited with the last living member of her family: her twin brother, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

I should know. I am that Mary Potter everyone is so curious about. There have been countless books on the Boy Who Lived, but little to none on what happened to the fabled Lost Potter, how she was found only to be lost again. Well, I hope that you have plenty of time on your hands, for this is a story in seven volumes written by Serena Beaumont (because I am no writer, as you can tell from this brief note I have been asked to write).

- Marlene Thomas (née Potter)

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