It was hot. Skin blistering hot.
Aunt Petunia was fanning herself with her apron, while Uncle Vernon was finishing the remains of what used to be a full tub of ice cream. I was currently dying in the kitchen, tending to the baked sweets. Oh yeah, this was the life.
Who am I? Silly me. I forget sometimes that I'm invisible to the entire world. I am Ella Lillian Potter. Born to Lily and James Potter on the 31st of July. That's impossible, you say? That means... That means you're Harry Potter's twin? No. I'm Lord Voldemort. Of course I'm his bloody twin! But I wouldn't expect any of you to know. After all, I am not 'The Chosen One'. No. Sadly, I'm 'The Girl Who Was Crying In Her Crib At The Horrific Scene Of A Deranged Man Attempting To Kill Her Brother'.
Another contributing factor of not existing is that I was sorted into Slytherin. You see, unlike Harry, I actually listened to the Sorting Hats advice. And honestly, I didn't see anything wrong with belonging to a house of ambition and resourcefulness. Of course, Draco Malfoy was proving to be a bit of a problem, but that is beside the point.
I am thankful that I at least inherited my mothers appearance. Because if I'm this much of a loser, adding large glasses and messy black hair would definitely open the door for teasing from Malfoy.
I guess you could say that life isn't all that bad when you don't exist. For starter's, I'll never have to worry about Voldemort trying to kill me each year. Last year was the worst attempt yet. Harry still has nightmares.
Thankfully, he's learned to control the screaming. Uncle Vernon threatened to admit Harry into an institution for the mentally ill and to send me there with him. Although, I don't entirely disagree with my Uncle. Harry could use some counseling. Bloody hell, the whole school could after what we witnessed at the end of the third task.
I was scared for my brother. He still won't tell me what exactly happened in the graveyard, but I know he's telling the truth about Voldemort returning.
Speaking of The Boy Who Lived... I was beginning to get nervous. Harry left sometime this morning and hasn't returned. What if he met Dumbledore and they decided to leave me here? No. Harry, even though we don't always see eye to eye on things, would never leave me here. Dumbledore? Yes. That old bat was not particularly fond of me. Oh well, I didn't like him much either.
I was pulled from my self wallowing thoughts at a loud bang coming from the front door. I froze. Fear running through my veins. What if it was him? I was about to run and stop Uncle Vernon from opening the front door. But then I rather stupidly, reminded myself that if Voldemort was at the door he wouldn't of knocked. Definitely not his style. He wasn't a subtle man.
"Dudums!" Aunt Petunia cried. Running to her precious son with flour all across her blouse.
I probably would have laughed at the sight in front of me if I didn't know the seriousness of the situation. My cousin seemed to be getting larger as the years went by. He was now roughly the size of a hippo. And Harry; well, Harry was skinnier than a pretzel stick and he fell to the floor in exhaustion when Uncle Vernon relieved him of holding Dudley up.
Dudley looked awful. He was dripping with sweat and his complexion was paler than mine. Which was pretty difficult to accomplish, if I might add. His mouth hung open, drool beginning to pour on the front of his shirt. To this, I actually did laugh. Earning a smack on the head from Aunt Petunia.
Silencing myself at the comical scene, I turned my attention to my brother. He was also pale and reasonably sweaty. I cringed at the thought that most of the sweat wasn't his own. He was staring into space blankly. I mouthed 'what in the bloody hell happened to you?' But it must have looked like something different because Harry just shook his head and began walking out of the room.
He reached the kitchen when a small envelope pelted him sharply in the back of the head. He cursed under his breath, whipping his head 'round to glare at me. I shook my head and pointed to the ground. There, was a small red envelope addressed to Harry James Potter.
"You've done it now, boy! Cursing Dudley! They'll never let you return to school!" Roared Uncle Vernon. And while I admired his accusation; if Harry was going to curse Dudley, he would have left him there to die.
"I didn't do anything to your son!" Harry yelled back sharply, pointing a finger in Uncle Vernon's chubby face. "We were attacked! I saved him!"
Harry's response made Uncle Vernon fall silent. Everyone was eyeing the letter on the floor. When a minute had passed by, I was the first to speak.
"Well go on! It looks like a Howler. Would Mrs. Weasley send you one?" I asked and tried to take a closer look.
"No. She wouldn't." Replied Harry, and picked the letter up. To the Dursleys surprise, it hopped from his clutch and hovered in mid- air. Then, it began to read it's contents out loud.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We have received intelligence that you have performed a Patronus charm at twenty three minutes passed nine in a Muggle inhabited area in the presence of a Muggle.
This act violates the restriction of underage sorcery and has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Ministry representatives will be arriving shortly to your place ofresidence to destroy your wand.
Seeing as you received a warning previously under section 13 ofthe Warlock's Statue of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a formal hearing.
The letter then lit itself on fire in the middle of the Dursleys sitting room. I had one thought running through my mind at this particular moment, and it wasn't pity for Harry. It was a rather selfish thought. I could tell by Uncle Vernon's extremely satisfied smirk, that he was thinking the same thing I was.
Harry Potter; expelled from Hogwarts.
"Justice is served." Whispered Uncle Vernon and patted Dudley on the back.
Shorty after the quite theatrical scene in the Dursley's sitting room; Aunt Petunia informed me that they would be taking Dudley to the emergency room. She then handed me a long list of chores as punishment for being related to Harry. I scowled at the lengthy list as they left the house.
This was exactly the kind of thing that made me feel no remorse for my brother. It simply was unfair. And you know what? I was glad he wouldn't be returning to school. Maybe people will start noticing my potential. Hell, maybe I'll become Dumbledore's favourite and he'll have me protect the school from Voldy this year. One can dream, okay?
I started vaccuming the ashes from Harry's letter. Harry was sulking in his room like the idiot he was. I couldn't believe that he used magic to save Dudley. If I were Harry and I knew the consequences of my actions, I would have left my cousin to die. Honestly though, its what he deserves. But unlike myself, Harry is heroic and a show off, and to this I am surprised Voldemort hasn't killed him yet.
Once I finished my chores, I headed upstairs to the smallest bedroom that I shared with my brother. He was already asleep, with his trunk neatly packed at the end of his bed. It made me wonder if he had owled Dumbledore and the two had come up with some elaborate plan to hide him from the Ministry.
I sighed loudly at the possibility that this could be true, and climbed into my bed. I fell asleep quickly. Must have been exhaustion from all the extra chores.
"Where is the girl, Wormtail!"
The man named Wormtail shuddered with fear and bowed to hismaster, not daring to look him in the face as he replied."Master..."
Voldemort didn't even give him time to finish his excuse, and he threw an old chair at his servant. Smirking slightly as it knockedhim to the floor.
"Were my orders unclear?" Yelled Voldemort and kicked Wormtail in the leg.
"Th... They were, my l-lord... Its just..."
"THEN WHY IS SHE NOT HERE!"
Voldemort was livid. He didn't have time for this. He needed the girl now.
"T-there were complications my lord, Dementors showed up and-"
"You are USELESS Wormtail." Voldemort then took his wand from his robes and pointed it at the man on the floor. "Crucio!"
Wormtail cried in pain, writhing on the floor. Voldemort didn't pay attention to his pleads. Instead the wizard rolled his eyes and sat back in the armchair he had claimed as his throne.
Voldemort sighed; his face still scrunched up in anger. Soon. he reminded himself. Soon he would have Ella Potter.
I sprang up from my bed. Sweat was rolling down the back of my neck. What the bloody hell kind of dream was that?
"Harry..." I whispered. Not wanting to wake the Dursleys if they had made it home.
Nothing. He was sound asleep.
I was about to get out of my bed and shake him awake from his slumber, when the doorknob to the room we shared started to shake. And Harry too, shot awake in bed.
I looked to my brother in panic. The nightmare I just had wasn't helping the situation.
I stared at the keyhole, jumping at the bright flash of blue that came from it. I knew now that whoever it was on the other side of the door was magical. I grabbed my wand from the night stand, gripping it tight and prepared to fight.
Slowly, the door cracked open with a screech.