CHAPTER ONE
❛emerald eyes❜

❝ THE HELL IS MUGGLES? ❞

██████     DAMIAN WAS CONFUSED.
There was a small and tiny little girl looking at him with bright emerald eyes,
she did not even blink at her glare and simply lift up her hands for him to pick her up. His eyes analyse the small girl, she was so thin and tiny, she looked to be six years old.

"Tt. Who is she?" He looked at Thanatos who looked nonchanlant.

"She is the younger version of Ophelia Potter, She will be watching her life with you all." Thanatos said coldly. "If
I see one tear from her eyes because one of you, then let say I will take back my words and collect some souls." Damian nodded slowly, he was not dumb and thats arrogant to go against the words of a God.

"Tt. Todd, come and get your mini soulmate." Jason tilted his head. He noticed two things that Damian already analysed.

First. She was very tiny and thin.

Second. She looked like kicked puppy, in a white dress that go till her feet, she did not even have a shoes in her feet! What if she had walked over broken glass? He frowned.

Ophelia Potter fidged with her fingers. Before unsurely poked Damian's knee.
"C-cant I sit with you?" She was scared,
she did feel safe with the big shadow man though.

Jonathan's eyes sparkled. "She is so cute!!" The superboy squealed.

Damian rolled his eyes and hesitated before bringing the girl to sit next to her. He ignored the smile and proud look from Dick and Bruce.

"Hi..?" Ophelia mumbled, lowering her gaze. Everybody were looking at her.

"Oh. My. God. Can we adopt her, Ivy?" Harley Quinn squealed as loud as Jon while clapping her hands quietly to not startle the sweet baby girl.

"Well.." Poison Ivy hesitated. "I am sure that she is already grown up in our timeline, no?" She told Harley who pouted.

Selina smiled happily, the kitten looked so cute!

"Sister." Cassandra whispered.

Ophelia was confused. Were they talking to her? She was not cute at all. She was a freak. Why were they even looking so happy? People are always disgust with her. Everybody should be, she is just a freak of nature. Her hair was very messy and uncorrigeable. She always wore dirty clothes too. She squirmed as she saw the sudden light, it was a bright screen in front of her.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so
suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the
ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt.

"He look very old. Older than Bruce." Jason took a glance toward Bruce who looked offend.

"I am not that old." He told Jason in a firmed tone.

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots.His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street.

Damian raised a brow.

"Damian, no."

"Damian, yes."

Clark watched the interaction and let out a sigh. The Wayne family was one of a hell of a broken crazy family. They had issues. A lot of issues.

For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."
He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness.

Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady- eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement.

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Maybe this old man is some kind of relate to demon spawn. After all, he is about to talk to a cat." Jason flashed his signature grinned. He was waiting for the usual knife to fly right near his face.

"Huh?"

Damian glared at him. "Thanatos said no killing or fighting, unfortunately." He hissed under his breath.

"Since when did he listen to people?" Stephanie asked Grayson who was smiling all proud of his little robin.

"He is a God, remember?" Barbara pointed out.

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'."

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

"Holy shit-"

"Language, master Jason!"

"But Alfie, he just called that cat a professor. Here I thought, Bruce was old."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling
at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight
bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"Should we be shock or surprise?" Poison Ivy questioned with genius curiousity.

"Let's simply act like we are." Barbara mumbled.

"My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."  "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on  a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a
dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"It is the most boring things I ever seen in my miserable life." Damian scoffed, his eyes moving to the tiny thing next to
him. Her eyes were dull yet full of hope.
Damian found it a little foolish to hope.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window.

"Muggles?" Jonathan questions, he was still shaken up from being teleport to a void and facing the Death in person and now they were watching some girl.

"Non magical person." Mortem replied. He did not care about spoilers. Might as well break the fourth wall.

"Which mean they are magical." Bruce whispered.

"That woman just transformed into a cat, Bruce. So yes, she is magical." Jason rolled his eyes. The sarcasticness rolling on his tongue perfectly that it brought out a small giggle from Ophelia. He just made his mini soulmate laugh.

He was amazing.

"I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent, I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no
reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on
the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on.

"A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You Know Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone  Dumbledore?"

"What type of name is you-know-who?" Dick Grayson asked. "How are we supose who know who he is?"

Ophelia listened attentively, she found those people very silly and funny. They
did not look at her weirdly neither. But she needed to behave so that they would agree to be her friends. She did not have a lot of friends. She did not even have one to start with.

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" "A what?" "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she did not think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You- Know-Who has gone -" "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

"Vol-de-mort?" Damian snorted at the hideos named chose. Who dare name their child 'flight of death' ? Unlike his
idiotic streets siblings, he did not even need ask Thanatos a question.

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know-oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Are they wizards or metahumans?" An unpleasant feelings grew in Bruce, he most surely did not look happy with the idea of humans.

"Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them."

"Nobody is too noble." Stephanie sneered at that.

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally
stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most
anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard
wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. " Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

"She have been extremely close to them to be this sad. My heart ached." Dick said.

"Do not be dramatic, Grayson." Damian rolled his eyes, avoiding the puppy eyes of Grasyon as he would not called him
'Dick' instead of Grayson.

Ophelia moved a little, the last name and the name of those person. They are her family. She bited her lower lip. But her aunt said that they died in a car accident.  She would not have lied to her. Right?

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's daughter, Ophelia. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little girl. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Ophelia Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone." Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"Welcome to the group." Tim said with his living dead face that made Ophelia frowned.

"Why would that man tried to kill a little girl?" Lois said outrage. She found it disgusting. Poor little girl, that mean she is an orphan.

Jason crossed his arms. He wondered how powerful was his soulmate as a baby to make a man disappeared.

"It's -- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little girl? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Ophelia survive?"

"We are just as curious." Clark whispered, his finger under his chin as he thought of the most unreal scenes.

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her
eyes beneath her spectacles.

Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" "I've come to bring Ophelia to her aunt and uncle. They're the only family she has left now."

Ophelia frozed. Only family she had left.
Then why did her family treated her like dirt? Their eyes filled of malice and disgust were always on her. But she did behave like a good girl. She cleaned, she cooked, she always made sure to make them happy so that one day at least they
would look at her with their eyes full of love and affection. She could only wait for now.

"Poor baby. We should have gone there and kidnapped her." Harley mumbled.

"You don't mean, you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four.

"Is there something wrong with your relatives, miss Potter?" Bruce asked, his overbearing aura scaring Ophelia.

"N-no, sir." She shook her head.

But it simply made Bruce and the elders more suspicious. Specially the way the small girl look and act. The way she is dressed, Damian almost thought she was homeless. Jason too felt suspicious and frowned.

"Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Ophelia Potter come and live here!"

"Spoiled brat! We have demon spawn." Jason groaned with an exasperated sigh from Timothy. But both did not expect the little girl to enter the conversation.

"W-who is demom spawn?" Ophelia said softly, not realizing the person who was right next to her was the demon spawn.

"Damian, it's his nickname." Dick sighed.

"I-i do not think he is a demon or a brat." Ophelia smiled a little. "A-and Dudley is worse. He always screamed, cried and also hurt animals. He is very mean."

Damian's eyes widened. That little girl just meet him minutes ago yet she is defending him? But his eyes darkened soon after. Hurt. Animals?

Oh allow him to meet that spoiled brat.

He will die a painful death by Damian's hands.

"It's the best place for her," said Dumbledore firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she's older. I've written them a letter." "A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall.

"Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand her! She'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Ophelia Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Ophelia-- every child in our world will know her name!"

"I am famous?" She tilted her head.

"You don't know about that it seem, miss Potter." Ophelia turned to look at the gentle grandpa next to the intimidating man. "N-no, I do not know sir." She said quietly.

"You can call him Alfie or Alfred!" Dick chirp in with a bright amile.

"O-okay."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his
half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Famous for something she won't even remember! Can you see how much better off she'll be, growing up away from all that until she's ready to take it?" Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said,

"The way he said that sound a little suspicious." Barbara murmured.

"Yes." Cassandra nodded.

"Yes, yes you're right, of course. But how is the girl getting here Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Ophelia underneath it. "Hagrid's bringing her."

"You think it, wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

Those people seemed to know Jason's soulmate yet the little girl does not even remember them. Bruce kept analyzing the quiet small girl next to Damian. If he did not kmow that she is Jason's soul- mate then Bruce would have think that she is Damian's twin sister or half sister.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them

"I want one of that thing, immediately!" Jason said loudly, pointing at it with sparkling eyes.

"You can ask your soulmate for one when you meet her older self." Thanatos rolled his eyes. Children.

"Wow! A motorcycle that fly!" Harley squealed happily. She wanted one! Like that she could hit Joker and fly away.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride
it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times
as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"A giant." Jonathan swallowed.

"A half-giant." Thanatos corrected it.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did
you get that motorcycle?" "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

Ophelia felt a sudden headache at the sudden name. 'Come on, prongslette! Come get the little gold! Thats my little doe!' she felt suddenly at peace in this place, listening to the voice in her mind.

"No problems, were there?" "No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over her forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Thats a nasty cut, kitten." Selina whistled. "But a cute baby."

"I agree." Duke said softly.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "She'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well, give her here Hagrid, we'd better get this over with."

"This does not look like a normal scar." Tim mumbled, siping the eleven coffee cups snce he arrived in the void.

Dumbledore took Ophelia in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I --could I say good-bye to her, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Ophelia and gave her what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!" "S-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Lily an' James dead -- an' poor little Ophelia off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Ophelia gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Ophelia's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle;

"DID HE JUST LEFT A BABY ON A DOORSTEP?!" Clark flinched at the
suddenly shouted from his wife. Which could be very justified as every women in the room were enraged while little Ophelia looked confuse.

"Is staying outside that bad?" Ophelia asked softly, Selina who heard her frown.

"Well you were a baby." She hesitates before adding. "Do you stay outside at this age?" Damian felt Ophelia tensed next to him.

"Y-yes. Sometimes."

"What on earth." Bruce stiffed, his gaze hardened. That girl stayed outside? Does she mean sleeping or just a punishment
from her family.

Selina tsked but decided to stay
calm to not scared her new kitten.

Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir." Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Cassandra felt a strange feeling of dislike toward the old man on the
screen. He was simply too suspicious, the look and the twinkle in his eyes were more suspicious.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he
stopped and took out the silver Put- Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Ophelia," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. "You will be needing it." A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Ophelia Potter rolled over inside her blankets without waking up.

One small hand closed on the letter beside her and she slept on. Not knowing people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up
their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Ophelia Potter, the girl
who lived!"

"They are calling her the girl who lived when her mother and father has died?"
Poison Ivy found those people stupid.

"The girl who lived." Jason found it very ironic. His soulmate being the girl who lived while he was the boy who died.