**TW: blood and vomit. If sensitive, please don't read**
Godric's Hollow. October 31, 1981
Voldemort made his way up the stairs of the Potter's house, not caring that he stepped on the arm of a dead James Potter. He heard the small voice of Lily Potter, following it till he reached the room. He smiled as Lily Potter yelled out to not kill her son, but he knew that she knew she wouldn't live.
The air smelled pleasant with crisp leaves and despair as Voldemort lifted up his wand and murdered Lily. Voldemort couldn't contain his smile, watching the person he truly wanted dead helplessly looked at him with bright green eyes. It was much pleasure for him to lift his wand once more, and direct the Killing Curse to Harry Potter, the boy from the prophecy.
However, it all went wrong when Voldemort felt immense pain shot through his body. He couldn't shake it off as he felt himself wanting to detach from his body.
No...this wasn't supposed to happen.
Voldemort did not understand, but next thing he knew, he was curled up in a close alleyway, shivering not from the cold, but from his souls' exposure to the outside. He was weak.
But what went wrong for the future of Zoë Dumbledore, was that the body was still intact. Each pore in Voldemort's body oozed with bits of his soul wanting to escape, but somehow...
Somehow...
He was still there.
::::::::::
On that exact day, Aberforth Dumbledore apparated from his home in the Hog's Head to Godric's Hollow, wanting to visit the graves of Peverell, Kendra, and Ariana Dumbledore, his family.
He didn't even notice the ruins of the Potter home.
With his head down, he made his way to the kissing gates leading to the church, which was connected to the graveyard.
However, something caught his eye that made him stop.
On the steps to the church, two girls sat in an embrace, one looked to be around four, and the other barely one. They sat in the cold with nothing but some thin sweater to cover them both.
Aberforth didn't know what to do. It was rare for him to feel pity for children, but somehow, the two girls shivering in the cold made him hesitate to leave them there. The smaller girl was the first one to notice him. Her eyes sparkled under the moonlight as she stared at the man, unfazed. The other one finally looked up to see Aberforth. She quickly stood up and embraced the small girl tighter.
"Mommy sent us away to protect us from the explosion." Still embracing the smaller girl, the oldest walked up to Aberforth, as if she knew that he was considering helping her.
Aberforth noticed that she could barely walk, and she swayed side to side because her weak body struggled to keep holding the smaller girl. Aberforth finally moved, picking both of them up and trying to find a place to keep them warm and safe. He managed to find a small cottage at the other end of town, which seemed to have been empty for quite some time. Aberforth opened the door, placing the two girls near what should be the fireplace. Aberforth cursed under his breath, forgetting that the only way he would be able to produce a flame is through magic.
He turned to the two girls. "I'm going to produce a fire now. Close your eyes and promise not to peak." It was a strange suggestion, but the older girl obeyed, playing her hand over the little girl so that she wouldn't see either. So turning back around, Aberforth took out his wand and mumbled a small Incendio.
A burst of hot flames sparked in the little wood that the fireplace had, but it was enough to keep the warmth. He made sure the two girls' eyes were still closed before telling them to open their eyes. They both stared at the flame, their faces blank. Aberforth felt pity for the two girls. They seemed to have been unloved for so long.
"I'm sorry I don't have any food," Aberforth told them. He didn't want to leave them alone while he went back to get food, but taking them with him back to Hogsmeade would be a good idea, considering that Aberforth didn't know if they were muggles or not. He didn't really think that they might forget about it.
"It's okay sir." The oldest one said. "I won't live long to eat anyways."
Aberforth stood there shocked by the words of the young girl. She was barely five and was already talking about death. But hearing this, Aberforth looked closely at the girl under the light of the flame. The girls' face was splattered with red patches, some reaching her ears and neck. Her cheekbones were very visible and her eyes were sunken in deep. Overall, she looked extremely close to death. Aberforth went to what would be the kitchen, trying to search for food, but to no success. Suddenly he thought of an idea.
"How about I take you two to the nearest store? I know it's closed but we can sneak in and take some food just for today." The older girl shook her head.
"I don't want to go outside. I'm scared of the explosion." She said, her words barely being able to pronounce the last word she said. Aberforth finally sat down in front of the two girls, worry on his face. "What explosion?" He asked, concerned something might have happened in their home where the mother was saving them from a fire.
"Mommy and I heard a bang at the other end of town. She sent us away after." Aberforth did not say a word after that. It was strange to him that a mother would send out her children into the cold when there was possible danger outside. After a few moments of silence, the older girl fell to her side, her eyes wanting to close to sleep. Finally, Aberforth spoke up once more to the older girl.
"What are your names?"
"Alexandra. My sister has no name."
And with that, Aberforth lied down beside them, watching them until they both fell asleep. Aberforth, after a while of thinking about the situation he was placed in, fell asleep himself.
It didn't feel like long before he awoke to the sound of loud crying. He immediately lifted up and saw in horror what was in front of him.
The smaller girl's face was bright red, from both crying, and from blood. The blood trailed down the girl's clothes onto the floor, leading to the open mouth of Alexandra, who's eyes were wide and bulging out. The red substance from her mouth flowed like a river through the cracks of the cottage floor, changing to the darker shade of crimson as it mixed with its dirt.
Aberforth crawled up to her shaking. Without thinking about possible consequences that may occur by using magic in front of a muggle, He took out his wand and started to perform as many healing spells as possible. But it was no use.
The girl laid there dead, suffocated and killed by the throw-up of her own blood.
Aberforth's sight caught a white piece of paper sticking out of the girls' pocket. Still trembling, hre took it out and unfolded it, horrified by the words he read.
Hello to whoever gets this,
You are now in possession of these two children. I made them leave because of the explosion, but I've been waiting for an excuse like that for so long. I never cared for them and I will never care. If you want them you can have them. If they are never found and die then that's that.
Life isn't always fair.
Aberforth trembled in anger. He furiously threw the paper to the ground, making it flip to the other side, revealing the birth dates of each girl for 'if the person that found them cared'. Alexandra on March 4, 1977, and the little girl on December 24, 1980.
The smaller girl was only 10 months.
Aberforth, not wanting to look at Alexandra finally turned his attention to the smaller girl, who was still crying at the sight of her dead sister. Aberforth quickly scooped her up as he surpressed his anger and, without looking back at the on the floor, apparated to Hogsmeade. He stood in front of the Hog's Head shaking, guilt washing over his entire body. He looked down and smoothed the hair of the small child, rocking her to calm her down.
But nothing could make him forget what he saw and left on that cottage floor to rot.
++++++++++++++++++++
The Hog's Head. November 9, 1981
It's been a week since the events of Godric's Hollow. Word was quick to spread about the death of James and Lily Potter, giving an answer to what the two girls heard that night. Aberforth tried his best to tend to the child, who he very quickly grew to care for. Her smile when she was happy lit up his entire room, and her cries made him cry as well. She still did not have a name; Aberforth hadn't though of a good name yet.
However, no matter how happy the child made him feel, the girl he left in Godric's Hollow was still very clear in his mind. Not wanting to leave the smaller girl in fear of someone finding her and her muggle status, he cleaned her up and apparated to Godric's Hollow. Slowly, he made his way through the town, reaching the end where the cottage was. In the daytime, the cottage looked lovely, with green vines reaching the top but in a way that made the whole area look more natural and clean. Its walls were dusted with white dust, but that made the redness of the brick look natural and welcoming.
But Aberforth knew it was anything but.
Opening the door, a strong scent of rotten meat entered his nose. He didn't even dare to look down. He knew exactly what she would look like. Balancing the smaller girl in one arm, he took Alexandra in his arm, wrapping her tight in a cloth he brought. Looking around, he left the cottage and apparated to the middle of an empty field. Placing down the small girl, he took out his wand and began to take soil out of the ground. He went as deep as he could, finally stopping when he felt like there was enough room for Alexandra. He slowly placed her in the ground, tears running like hot lava down his checks. He has never felt this much pain in a long time.
After placing the soil back in its place, he took the small girl in his arms once more. Her golden hair glowed under the sunlight. Aberforth smiled.
"I read somewhere during my Hogwart years of different word meanings in the Greek language." He began to speak. "If I recall, one of them meant life." He lifted up the girl towards the sun. "You, my dear sun, have lived through so much at a young age." He placed her on his chest, crying more as he hugged her.
"Dearest Zoë. I'm glad that you live in my life."
++++++++++++++++++++
Nearby Forest. December 24, 1990
Voldemort was weak. There was no doubt about that.
He could feel every part of his soul wanting to leave his body, struggling to stay intact. It was tedious for the man, once so powerful and praised by many, to resort to going on his knees and having to drink the blood of unicorns to keep what little strength he had. It was pathetic.
A day didn't pass where he didn't think about the day he would return to finish off Harry Potter. But now he had no idea where he was or if he was even alive. He jusy felt that Harry Potter was still in need of being disposed of.
He needed to find out somehow. Find Harry Potter.
A sudden thought popped in his wicked mind. Albus Dumbledore must know. If he wanted to get to Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore was the answer.
However, the walls of Hogwart's Castle were impenetrable. It was close to impossible to be able to sneak into the grounds without being noticed. The closest place was Hogsmeade, and if he remembered correctly, a certain brother of Albus lived there. He could attack him to bring Albus forth.
In quick action, he apparated to the village of Hogsmeade. The night was drawing near, so everyone was inside. Only a few people were outside still, but were too busy in their own conversations to notice the presence of the man they feared and still fear.
Pathetics.
A pair of women who were speaking a bit too loudly passed by, talking about the exact person Voldemort wants to see.
"How is Aberforth these days by the way? I could have sworn I stopped seeing him years ago."
"No, you're right. Supposedly he moved to Godric's Hollow. No one dares to visit him because he rejects anyone who knocks at his door."
Voldemort did not to hear anymore. It was perfect.
Voldemort knew exactly what to do.
::::::::::
Albus Dumbledore made his way through the town of Godric's Hollow. Although he does not have fond memories of the town, he came every yeat before Christman to drop off the presents he got his niece and brother, even though Aberforth never let him see her before, but Albus understood his anger towards him.
As he made his way to the small cottage his brother lived in, something caught his eyes.
A hooded figure glided through the snow, only part of his pale skin showing. It was a second, only one, but it was enough to see the figures of the man believe by everyone besides himself to be dead. He broke out into a run, wanting to warn his brother to stay inside with Zoë. It wasn't safe.
What neither of them knew was that it was already too late.