𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 / 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐒

𝟎𝟎 - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟏

Thunder cracked and roared through the dead of night, but the biting storm was far away now and had sailed almost directly over the London borough of Islington, where the air was thick and quietly humming with the promise of rain that never came. It was peaceful there, with large stone cottages dotting the land that had once been a meadow. Smoke puffed in columns from the chimneys of houses whose occupants still lingered awake in the early hours of the morning. 

Magical folk rarely slept.

It was calm and quiet, save for the babbling bundle of blankets resting on the porch of the Potters' house. At first glance, one would think they had just left their groceries in a heap on the doorstep. But one by one, ten little fingers reached through the swaddle of blankets and made fists in the air, trying to make purchase in the humidity. There had been a note attached to the bundle, wrapped in an enchanted glistening silver cord and sealed with a mother's bittersweet departing kiss. But it had blown away long ago. Long before dark when the night was still fresh with the wisps of pink and orange clouds.

A gurgle sounded from within the blankets, then a soft coo that could have been mistaken for a warbling songbird. But all the same, it made Mrs. Potter stir in her sleep before waking up all together to investigate the noise. A lamp was whisked on from behind the frosted glass windows, then another, and another, and then the wide mahogany front door was thrown inwards.

"Oh dear," she tutted, a hand resting on her chest over her opaque pink silk robe. She dropped to her knees and peered out across the street, in the bushes, and everywhere in between for any lingering  sign of the person who left their child out in the cold. If the note had remained, she would have known right away who the child was. 

But it hadn't, and thus she didn't. 

"There, there," she smiled warmly, scooping the blankets up into her arms without a second thought and carrying the child back through the threshold.

"What is it, Effie?" A voice grumbled, low and deep like the faraway thunder. Fleamont Potter had been awoken begrudgingly to the absence of his wife. His shadow painted the floor of the tall, dark entryway. The Potters' wouldn't call their home a manor, although that's precisely what it was. They lovingly referred to their abode as a cottage to the scrutiny of everyone else in the neighborhood.

"A visitor," Mrs. Potter, Euphemia, cooed. She bounced the baby in her arms, carrying the swaddle of blankets closer to the candlelight so that her husband could see for himself. "Left on our doorstep."

"Is that so?" He hummed, peering down at the child with a startling lack of interest. If he hadn't just woken up, perhaps his reaction would have been less lack-luster. Fleamont Potter was an older man with salt and pepper hair, a comfortable job as head of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, and a seemingly endless inheritance from his late parents.

Euphemia Potter was similar in that regard and the two lived happily and without woe with their young son, James, who had been welcomed into the family less than a year prior. They could easily take in the baby girl.

"What if she is a muggle?" Fleamont quipped, suddenly sobered out of sleep by his wife's shocking proposal. They had everything they could possibly want, especially James, who they had been blessed with long after they assumed the opportunity of children had passed.

"A muggle?" Euphemia tutted offhandedly, her tone snippy despite the warm smile she presented to the child as she tucked the blanket even deeper into the crook of her neck. "A muggle wouldn't have possibly known to take their child here of all places. This girl is a witch. I can feel it."

"And what if she isn't?"

"Then we will love her all the same."

Mr. Potter stumbled in his steps, following the pair as they danced into the parlor room beside the front entrance. "Are you suggesting we take in a stranger's child, Effie? Raise her as our own?" Effie was the nickname he used for his wife only when he was completely and utterly baffled.

She ignored his questions and drew the bundle close to her chest, humming as she swayed her hips, crossing the room to her husband and presenting him with the infant. The baby, while having yet to grow into any defining features, was starkly different from the ten month-old boy sleeping soundly in his crib upstairs. Surely no one would ever assume that the two were related, even if they were introduced as such. "Who else, if not us?"

Euphemia had always wanted a daughter. Silently, of course, as not to distract from the beautiful family she had built for herself and her husband. But the desire for more always pinged in the back of her heart and the idea of raising both a boy and a girl brought the crest of a smile to her rosy cheeks.

Begrudgingly, Fleamont accepted the child into his arms, dipping his elbow to support her small head as his wife looked on in wonder. The baby had brilliant (Y/E/C) eyes that seemed to flicker like a flame in the dim gas light of the parlor room. He automatically understood how his wife insisted that she held some type of magic in her blood. It practically radiated from her in waves. "James must never know," he grumbled, indirectly agreeing to the preposterous plan.

"Of course."

"And what do you suppose we shall call her?"

Mrs. Potter puckered her lips, gently taking the baby back into her arms and floating over to the window. Through the paneled glass, she could see the distant storm rising over the rooftops like a shroud of brilliant black silk. "(Y/N)," she breathed. She didn't know where exactly the name had come from. Like a premonition, like a dream, it slipped from her lips. But it felt right.

"(Y/N) Euphemia Potter." 

(A/N: AHHHH. I debated publishing this today, but I already have the notes done for 43 chapters so I think if I don't start now, I'll never be entirely ready to do something with this story. I'm hyperfixiating on this right now so please bear with me if you're waiting on updates for another story. I hope you enjoy! I put a lot of thought into this book and the details. My first attempt as a Marauders fic!)