Little Sister | Harry Potter Fanfiction |

Prologue

Copyright © 2014 by Jahleesa J. Thornhill
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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1981

The autumn breeze cooled the unusually muggy October night, carrying brown and yellow leaves through the air until they softly scraped across the damp ground. Silver moonlight danced across the pavement and puddles, glittering. A large brick building stood past an iron gate and up a gravel road. There was a sudden crack, and gates screeched as they slowly swung open, making just enough space for the man with a billowing, black cloak to pass through.

He went up to the marble doorstep, knelt down and paused, looking at the woven basket in his arms. Bundled up with blankets inside the basket, was a child, no more than a few weeks old.  The infant was fast asleep, brown lashes fluttering against pink cheeks while her chest rose and fell.

Suddenly, the man was consumed by guilt; the girl didn't deserve to live like this, to grow up in a foreign place, not knowing anything about who she is, what she is. A child like her would be shunned in this world, but there was nothing he could do. At the mere age of twenty-one the man could barely take care of himself. How could he be expected to raise a child?

He swallowed the lump in his throat and gently placed the basket down, making sure the little envelope was safely secured and wouldn't be carried away by the wind. The movement caused the child to twist her head and fuss, before opening her eyes, looking up at him. The man's breath caught in his throat, and all he could think about was her. Those were her green eyes staring at him, only these were far from lifeless and pale.

He shot to his feet and forced himself to look away, banged on the door thrice, and hurried back down the gravel road, hidden by the darkness. He waited until a woman opened the door, peered out into the street. Just as she was to re-enter the building, she noticed the basket beside her feet and gasped, fretting over the baby. She took her from the basket and cradled her with one arm, inspected the note with the other. The woman stood there for a moment, seemingly stuck on what to do until she finally walked back inside, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.