Harry and Lilith Potter and The Philosopher's Stone
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Born on the same fateful night as her twin brother, Harry, Lilith Eva Potter is no stranger to the weight of a famous name. But at Hogwar...
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Scotland, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 16th March, 1992
As the sun settled behind the jagged mountains surrounding Hogwarts, casting a soft orange glow over the snowy grounds, Lilith stood by the fountain in the courtyard, her breath visible in the cold air as she waited. Her heart still buzzed with the excitement of the day—the way Harry had caught the Snitch in record time, securing Gryffindor's lead in the House Championship. It felt surreal, as though the whole day had been plucked from a dream.
Ron and Hermione stood nearby, their faces flushed from the cold but glowing with the thrill of victory. Lilith watched the snow gently falling around them, the courtyard illuminated in the last vestiges of twilight. Even in the cold, the joy of Gryffindor's win kept them warm. That, and the charm Theodore had gifted her, that kept her warm in the cold.
"Still can't believe it," Ron said, his voice full of admiration as he twiddled with his scarf. "That catch was mental. Malfoy's going to be crying into his pillow tonight." He let out a satisfied laugh.
"Honestly, it was like something out of a story," Hermione chimed in, smiling softly. "Professor McGonagall was practically skipping back to the castle."
Lilith grinned at the memory. Her pride for Harry was practically radiating off her. "It was perfect," she agreed, leaning against the edge of the fountain, letting out a happy sigh.
Just then, the courtyard doors creaked open, and in came her brother, cheeks flushed from the cold. But unlike the triumphant Harry she expected, his expression was serious—grim even. The glow from the victory seemed to have been wiped from his face entirely. The change in his demeanor was so stark, it caused Lilith to straighten up in concern.
"Harry!" Ron called out, jogging over to him with a broad smile. "We won! You won! We won!" He thumped his best friend on the back with enthusiasm. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville—" Ron paused to take a deep breath—"tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handedly! He's still out cold, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right. Talk about showing Slytherin!" Ron's eyes sparkled as he recalled the events of the day. "Everyone's waiting for you in the common room—Fred and George nicked some cakes and butterbeer from the kitchens. It's gonna be brilliant!"
But Harry didn't seem to share their excitement. "Never mind that now," he said, still slightly out of breath. "Let's find an empty room—there's something I need to tell you." His voice had an urgency that made the rest of them fall silent.
Lilith's stomach twisted as she exchanged a worried glance with Hermione. "What is it?" she asked, her earlier euphoria slipping away.
"I'll explain," Harry said, glancing around the courtyard. "Not here. We need somewhere private."
