The French Potter

Chapter 2 - Life as a Delacour

Chapter 2 - Life as a Delacour

Bold=in French

Catherine's pov

Hi, my name is Catherine Lily Delacour-Potter, but I prefer Cat, I am daughter of Lily and James Potter, twin sister to Harry Potter, Adoptive sister of Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour and adoptive daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, That's right, I'm the French Potter.

You may be wondering why I got the name, 'The French Potter' whilst my brother got the name, 'The boy who lived' (roles eyes). Well it was because Voldemort (Yes, I do say his name) never tried to kill me, he only tried to kill my brother Harry, I was hiding under the bed! So whilst my brother gets this epic name, I just get 'The French Potter' because I live in France with the Delacours, I know, sucks right! Oops, sorry I'm rambling, I do that a lot, anyway, on with the story.

So what don't you know about me, well, I'm part veela, although, I'm not sure how, no-one else in the Potter family is, but it's alright because Fleur, my adoptive sister who is two years older than me, is also part veela so she helps me with my powers a lot. So, what else? Oh yes, I look exactly like my mother, except my eyes, I have my father's eyes, (I'm the opposite of my brother!) I know all this because I have a picture of my parents, me and my brother from when I was a baby. Sometimes I wish I could talk to my brother about these things, but I've never met him, he doesn't even know about me. Neither does pretty much all of the wizarding world. So when I start at Hogwarts I'm going to have to use the last name Delacour. Oh, sorry i forgot to say, I got my Hogwarts and Beautibaxtons letters yesterday so I picked Hogwarts, although I'll miss Fleur and Gabby, I feel I need to meet my brother.

"Cat, time to go," Mama suddenly yelled up the stairs.

 Oops, I'd been in my room longer than I thought, "Just coming," I called down the stairs. I quickly checked my hair in the mirror then I made my way down to Mama.

"Are Fleur and Gabby coming with us?" I asked Mama hopefully.

 "No, Fleur is going with your Father to Unicorn lane to get her school stuff and Gabby is with a friend."

I sighed, I'd wanted Fleur and Gabby to come with me to Diagon Alley as none of us had ever been to London before, but I guessed it would have to wait. "Ok, let's go," I said, I grasped Mama's hand and we dissaperated to Diagon Alley.

"Bl*ody h*ll," I muttered.

"Catherine,language!" Mama scolded.

"Sorry," I muttered, "Oh, can I get a wand first."

Mama laughed at my eagerness, "If you want," she said.

I squealed and ran towards Ollivanders; I took a deep breath and stepped into the wand shop with Mama close on my tail.

 "Good afternoon," said a soft voice. I jumped; an old man was standing before me, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Um, hi," I said awkwardly

"Ah yes," said the man, "Yes, yes, I thought I'd be seeing you soon Catherine Potter."

"How did you know it was me?" I asked confused. "You look just like your mother, except your eyes, you have your father's eyes."

"Shouldn't have asked," I muttered to myself

"Well then Miss Potter, let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Now which is your wand arm?"

"My right," I replied immediately. Fleur had warned me I might be asked this question.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round my head. As he measured he said, "Every Ollivanders wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Potter. We use unicorn hairs, Phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivanders wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

I suddenly realised that the tape measure was measuring between my nostrils. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure suddenly crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then Miss Potter try this one. Beech wood and Dragon heartstrings. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.

"I took the wand and (feeling very foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of my hand almost at once.

"Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Try-"

I tried. And tried. The pile of tried wands mounted higher and higher, but the more wands I tried, the happier Mr. Ollivander seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh, Just like your brother-"

"Wait, Harry was here?" I asked, suddenly startled out of my day dream about the perfect wand.

"Yes, yes, he came in yesterday." Ollivander dismissed my comment, "Now, as I was saying, we'll find the perfect wand here somewhere, I wonder, Yes, why not, Maple and Phoenix feather, quite whippy."

I took the wand and felt sudden warmth in my fingers. I raised the wand and brought it swishing down through the dusty air, a stream of beautiful butterflies streamed out of it. My mother clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, Oh, very good. Well, well, well... How curious... How very curious..."

He placed my wand back in its box, still muttering, "curious...curious..."

Finally I'd had enough, "What's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed me with his pale stars.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold Miss Potter. Every single one. And it so happens that the Phoenix who's tail feather is in your wand, gave two other feathers, just two. It is very curious that you should be destined for this wand when one of the feathers is in your brothers wand, and the other destroyed your true life."