Hello unicorns reading this story! Which is probably nobody, which is why I said unicorns opposed to narwhals, because unicorns don't exist! So sad! But anyway, here is my wonderful story about Harry potter having a little sister.
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PROLOGUE
3rd POV
When Harry Potter was two years old, his mother had a baby, on December 24th. A little girl, in fact, named Eliza Marie Potter. Just a day after she was born, the Potter family came home from Saint Mungo's to there house on Totters Lane, only to find their house in shambles. Everything was burnt or broken or stolen, but there was one thing that seemed out of place; a piece of paper. A perfectly clean, white piece of paper, not even singed or ripped or worn. And in green ink, in scratchy, unseven cursive, there was a single broken sentence:
"January 1st, neither shall live while the other survives"
The Potter's didn't think about the consequences of moving; they took this as a warning. They packed up the remnants of their lives; a time turner, a teddy bear, an invisibility cloak, and suitcase full of photographs, and apparated to an abandoned house in Godric's Hollow, where they would hopefully live in peace...
Until New Year's day.
The Potter's assumed that their oldest, their little boy, would be the one targeted. But by that fateful day, it was almost too late to expect that their newborn daughter - who they called their little Christmas present - would be the one set to die. The invisibility cloak was thrown onto both children on the floor when Lily Potter heard James' cry -
"Lily! They're here!"
- and soon Lily met the same fate as her husband, knowing that her children would be safe. But being the older sibling he was, Harry Potter wanted the warm cloak wrapped around only him, and Eliza was left exposed, in Voldemort's line of sight to be killed, until-
She pulled the cloak off her brother.
The Dark Lord aimed for the boy, and was weakened further.
He attempted to curse the girl and was weakened.
Voldemort shriveled up into his cloak until there was nothing left.
And Eliza let out a cry for the searing pain on her forehead, and Harry for the one on his.
Eliza Marie Potter was the Girl Who Lived.
And Harry James Potter helped
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Within the hour, Hagrid had both small children in the side cart of his motercycle. The Dursleys, not very keen on the fact of being woken up in the middle of the night, didn't shed a tear for the loss of their in-laws. The only emotion Petunia Dursley showed was when she saw crying little Eliza Potter with a face so much like her mother's, and she cradled the child close to her chest, and had Vernon pick up Harry with disgust. While Harry's bed was made up in the pantry under the stais (Petunia would have to find another way to store the spare sheets), Eliza was given the guest room usually saved for Vernon's sister. Over the years, she was raised as their own, never told she was Harry's sister, never told she wasn't a Dursley. Instead, she was told the irresponsible Potters had Eliza, Dudley and Harry in the car when they were in the accident that took their lives, and Harry and Eliza were both given scars shaped like lightning bolts. She was told there was nothing more to the story. But Harry knew different, and deep in the back of her mind, so did she.
Eliza was always a perfect child; impeccable grades and grammar, perfect manners, perfect looks, with curly auburn hair, freckles and bright green eyes. She was always kind and polite and adorable towards her parents and older brother Dudley, and always secretly made sure Harry was fed, and clothed, and loved, because she thought that every person should be. She was the sweetest child anyone could know... but not many got to meet her. Petunia hid her little girl because she was afraid: afraid of what people would think when they found out she was a witch. Petunia decided the moment she knew that the girl wouldn't go to that wretched wizard school, no, she would be normal.
Or would she?
