Chapter One: Late Reunions
Daisy felt as if her insides were going to explode. Ever since Aunt Mary had told her about her older brother Harry, the thing she had wanted most in the world was to meet him. And finally, after years of wishing and waiting, the day had come.
"Hurry up, hurry up!" Daisy called to her aunt, whose hurried footsteps could be heard through the thin ceiling in the living room.
"I'm coming!" Mary's response was muffled and frantic, she had been all flustered ever since it had been arranged to reunite the siblings before Harry's first year at Hogwarts. The poor boy had been left with his muggle relatives, Mary only hoped that they had told him enough so that he didn't get a nasty shock when he met his sister. Daisy had been so excited, and Mary was worried that the meeting might not live up to her expectations. But after all she had heard about Lily's sister, she was unfortunately not feeling particularly optimistic.
Daisy Potter was a scrappy almost-ten-year-old with hazel eyes hidden behind round metal-rimmed glasses, dark auburn hair and a cheeky smile. Mary was constantly having to replenish her stock of Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover as Daisy almost always managed to cause some sort of chaos, often resulting in stained clothes and a guilty expression. Mary was constantly astounded by how similar to James she was, forever up to mischief, and yet sometimes when she caught her in her more subdued moods, Mary would feel transported back to her early years at Hogwarts as Daisy (apart from her eyes and darker hair) looked strikingly similar to a young Lily Evans.
"Quick, quick!" Daisy couldn't keep still, she felt like hundreds of fireworks were going off in her tummy, her fingers tingling with sparks as she bounced on her toes.
"Yes, okay!" Mary huffed, hurrying into the living room, tucking her wand into the pocket of her jeans.
She grabbed the tin of floo powder from the mantlepiece and held it out for Daisy to take a handful. "Remember what to say?" She asked, raising a brow as Daisy occasionally would say the wrong destination when using the floo network.
"Yes." She mumbled, knowing that her 'accidents' were a bit more purposeful than she would like her aunt to know. You couldn't blame her, the same few places easily get boring after a while!
Daisy hopped into the fireplace and quickly threw down her powder after clearly stating 'The Leaky Cauldron' with a big grin plastered on her face. And she was sucked into the green flames, zooming between fireplaces until finally she popped out inside the Leaky Cauldron. This is where they had decided to meet Harry, and Daisy began looking at all the tables, trying to find a good one.
"Come here." Her Aunt said as she appeared behind her, grabbing onto Daisy's shoulders and brushing off as much soot as she could before giving her own clothes the same treatment. "Spot a table you like?" She asked, glancing around the not-too-busy pub.
"Over here!" Daisy began weaving between tables until she arrived at an empty one in a slightly-shadowy corner a bit away from the other tables. It had a perfect view of the door and was quiet enough that they would be able to talk to one another without having to raise their voices.
"Good choice!" Mary nodded approvingly, finally allowing a less-nervous smile to grace her features. She was excited for Daisy, and to meet Harry herself. It had been a long time, and she felt bad about having not seen her best friend's son in so long.
Being a muggle-born, Mary felt most comfortable in muggle clothing, Daisy (consciously or not) seemed to have absorbed that quality from her. As she looked around at the various outfits of other customers in the pub, Mary revelled in the relative comfort she felt in her plain jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt. When she was younger, she would've been looked at funny, during the war she would've been glared at or something more venomous, but now she wasn't given a second glance. Things were getting better, she acknowledged inwardly, and she felt as if her hope that no other muggleborn had to go through what she had in school was not an impossible one. These were different times, kinder times, she was sure.
