A/N: This started as crack I was writing because I was bored and now... it has taken a life of its own and just kinda ran away while holding my lungs like some insane goblin child. So. Yeah. Welcome to the jungle.
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James Potter couldn't breathe.
Looking up at him, from the arms of the nurse that had just been by his wife's side, was an infant with big brown eyes.
A baby boy.
His baby boy.
Sirius and Remus were there instantly to steady him and he looked at the nurse as if she was able to work miracles. "This-"
"Congratulations, Mr. Potter, you're a father... Have you picked out a name?"
It itched his brain that the nurse hadn't asked him when Lily was with him, as she'd had as much a hand in picking names... but he was too overwhelmed to start that discussion with the nurse, instead just smiling dopily. "Charles. Charles James Potter."
It was only by a bare inch (and respect to his parents) that Lily had accepted the tradition of naming their first-born after the parent of their gender.
"Lily, she-... she's okay?" Regaining his composure slightly, James reached out for the child, momentarily losing his train of thought at having this world-changing being in his arms. "... can I see my wife now?"
He could feel the smiles on Sirius and Remus' faces, knowing he'd never live down having to be removed from Lily's room during labor because of the panic he'd been in, but it didn't even matter right now. He just wanted to see his wife and share this moment with her.
"Mr. Potter..."
It was the tone of voice more than anything that had him looking up with something like apprehension building in his gut.
The nurse smiled, but it was strained. "Your second child is having complications and it would be in everyone's best interest for you to stay out here."
"My sec-" His brain whirled.
Twins. He had twins. Lily was still in that white room while he was waiting out here, unknowing of anything that she was going through and-
He felt Remus take the child from his arms and then he proceeded to faint.
Helena Ivy Potter was born almost 12 hours after her fraternal twin, Charles James Potter, and from there she only proved that she was vastly different from her twin. She cried substantially less, slept deeper, and seemed content to just watch everything with the big green eyes she'd inherited from her mother.
After first making sure that the little girl was in healthy condition, the two young parents dismissed it- sometimes babies, according to one of the doctors at St. Mungos, cried less because they were less sensitive.
And given they were trying to hide away and keep themselves sane during a time of war, Lily and James were slightly relieved that they could trust Helena to be somewhat independent. It wasn't like they didn't love her just as much as her brother- quite the opposite really- but with the stress of the times, it was nice to get a bit more sleep.
Then, Albus Dumbledore's warnings came to fruition.
Lily was checking on the twins, as Helena had started crying and neither of them knew why, James downstairs making tea for them- when the wards fell with a sickening snapping sound that echoed through the night.
She heard her husband give a yell, but when she turned towards the door, she was greeted with a green light.
Hands trembling, she stood defiantly in front of her children, not about to leave them. Feeling her heart lurch when a man with eyes like blood and skin like a corpse stalked into the room slowly, she curled her hands into fists and stared down the Dark Lord.
"Move aside, Lily Potter." The man's voice was a terrible hiss. "You would be welcomed on my side, powerful witch you are, and I have no desire to spill more magical blood than needed."
"Fuck off." It was though the rage that settled in her gut, twisting and horrible- this man had killed her husband!- that the words left her lips.
Sneering, the man raised his wand. "I think then... you will live long enough to know your child has died."
A red light and she fell to the floor.
Lord Voldemort stared at the cradle, blinking slowly in a way that some would compare to a reptile. There was not one, but two children where he had only been expecting one.
Staring down at them, he lost his snake-like glamour and leaned forward. "Which one of you... is my supposed death?"
One of the children continued to cry, but the other- with eyes like emeralds that sparkled slightly though the tears- blinked at him and fell silent.
Voldemort smiled grimly, leveling his wand at the child. "You. You are the one."
-Little did he know that these words would mark Helena Potter as the child of the prophecy, his actions leading to its self-fulfillment-
The girl just gurgled and closed her small hand around the end of his wand.
"What- no- stop that. Let go of my wand, you insolent creature!" He tried to pull his wand away, but babies have exceptionally strong grips and it was like the child had just clamped down on the wand like a vice. Ignoring the babbling giggles, the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes, figuring that the child's insistence wouldn't change the curse. "AVADA-"
He didn't feel the warmth when the child had touched his wand, and if he did, it was quickly (and foolishly) dismissed.
The green killing curse was getting sent through a wand that was being wielded from both sides, and since it had nowhere to go, the wand exploded in a crack of overwhelming power- the mix of both magics and the curse like a bomb detonating.
The warped green curse locked onto the target with the most magical power, but it only had enough power to kill the man's body, not his soul, which was instead sent from the house. The blast of magic sent both children out of the wrecked cradle and as a stroke of fate, the roof collapsed onto the younger of the Potter children.
A wave of accidental magic stopped the young girl from being crushed, creating a dome-like space of darkness, and Helena Potter then fell unconscious from the instinctive magic straining her core.
It was extremely rare for children under three to do accidental magic.
So then, when Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black found James Potter dead, Lily stunned, Charles Potter scraped up and crying... The elder headmaster used a spell to check for magic levels and when nothing came back but the slightly high levels that could be due to the curse magic...
Helena Potter was declared dead and Charlus Potter named 'The Boy-Who-Lived'.
What really happened was this: the house was abandoned by the group, mourning as they went to St. Mungos, and after the Aurors collected the snapped wand of the Dark Lord and his disfigured body, the muggle firefighters were let in to make their own conclusion to the events of the night.
Though they didn't know of the family that had lived there, just that the house had been empty before a green light and a loud explosion.
It was then in the late hours of the night, that the fire chief heard the soft cries of a child, finding Helena Potter in the rubble. A small bracelet was found by the baby, it's soft material ripped and when no relatives came forward to claim the child, she was sent to an orphanage with nothing but the part of the bracelet and a ripped onesie.
The Matron, a stern older woman looked at the Fire Chief that had accompanied the child. "What's her name?"
"All she had with her was this, Miss Sutton." The man held out the small strip of fabric.
All that was left of Helena, the name on the fabric bracelet that Remus had gotten these children, was -lena .
"Lena." The woman pronounced it like Lee-na, nodding. "Her name will be Lena."