𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, Halloween was a time for celebration, filled with magic, mischief, and of course, candy. But on this particular Halloween night, people would be celebrating for an entirely different reason; October 31st, 1981 would soon go down in history as a day of triumph, the day an evil man met his end. Unfortunately, like all victories, this victory came with a great cost; the ones who defeated him, a pair of infant twins, were orphaned.

The Halloween festivities in Godric's Hollow had long since ended by now. Almost all of the houses in the neighborhood had turned their lights off, as it was almost ten o'clock at night. Rain poured down hard from the skies above, and simultaneously, the wind began to pick up, creating a sense of foreboding in the air. A hooded figure, dressed all in black, was making his way through the streets, that sense of purpose and power and rightness in him that he always knew on these occasions...Not anger...that was for weaker souls than he...but triumph, yes...He had waited for this, he had hoped for it...

✫ ✫ ✫

Gathered in the living room of their house, blissfully unaware of the imminent danger soon to strike, were the Potter family. James, a tall man with messy black hair and hazel eyes that shone with mischief behind round glasses, made puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of his children. They were laughing and trying to catch the smoke, to grab it in their small fists...

Just over a year ago, James' wife Lily had given birth to twins, one boy and one girl. The boy was named Harry James Potter, and the girl was named Roseline Lily Potter. When choosing her daughter's name, James drew inspiration from his own wife Lily though he most commonly referred her a darling or lilyflower. He knew he wanted his daughter to be named after a flower and after taking his friends Peter,Sirius and Remus too Three Broomsticks for the last time — Sirius really wanted to take his childhood friend of three years Jennette but James refused it was the Marauders hangout and Jennette was no marauder — the bartender Madam Rosemerta was very jokingly strict on the name Rosie and after debating on whether he should listen to the half drunk bartender.

Remus told him he should go for the name Roseline and Madam Rosemerta seemed happy about that — she did say she deserved to have James' daughter named after her as she was so genouries with the amount of firewhiskey she gave them for parties even though they were underaged not only that but she didn't make them pay as much as normal for the whiskey despite Sirius and James' wealth.

✫ ✫ ✫

Lily entered the room and leaned against the doorway, smiling as she watched her husband entertain the twins. Her dark red hair, which had previously been tied up into a messy bun, now fell past her shoulders; the scarlet hue contrasted greatly with her emerald-green eyes. "I swear, James, you,Jen and Sirius spoil those two rotten. Can't wait to see how much you spoil Jeanette's daughter." she remarked, accidentally scaring James.

James jumped in surprise, the wand slipping from his hand and dropping to the floor. This sudden action caused the twins to giggle. He sighed in relief once he turned around and saw his wife was behind him.

"Sorry," Lily apologized, covering her mouth to stifle her own laughter.

Playfully shaking his head at her, James picked his wand up and placed it on the couch, before picking up his daughter and cradling her in his arms, while Lily scooped Harry up and rocked him back and forth. Harry looked almost exactly like James, except for the color of his eyes. Similarly, Roseline was almost a splitting image of Lily, but unlike Lily, Roseline had her father's hazel eyes . As most fathers do, James loved to boast about his daughter's beauty, and often said she would grow up to be as beautiful as her mother -- maybe even more so .

✫ ✫ ✫

Lily cleared her throat with her free hand. "All jokes aside, I think it's bedtime for these two." A yawn from Harry confirmed her words.

"Yeah, you're probably right," James reluctantly agreed. He followed his wife as she climbed the stairs and entered the nursery, where they each placed a kiss on the tops of Harry and Roseline's heads, and then placed them into the crib. No sooner had they done so than a creaking noise could be heard from outside.

Lily was both curious and startled by the sudden creaking. "What was that?" she wondered.

"I'm not sure," James replied, having also been alerted to the noise. "Stay here. I'll go check it out." He left the nursery and descended the stairs. As much as Lily wanted to argue, she knew it was futile. James was only looking out for her and their family.

As James came down the stairs, the front door burst open. He paled once he saw the hooded figure that had entered the house. "Lily, take Harry and Rosie and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" he called up to Lily.

Hold him off, without a wand in his hand!...The hooded figure laughed before casting the curse...

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glare like lightning rods, and James Potter fell like a marionette whose strings were cut...

Lily knew she was trapped. Her husband was dead, meaning it was far too late for her to try Apparating out of the cottage. Even worse, she didn't have her wand on her. Thinking quickly, she created a makeshift barricade using a chair and several filled-up boxes and pushed them against the door. She then knelt in front of the crib, facing her children for what she knew would be the last time she ever saw them.

"Harry, Rosie, you are so loved. So loved. Mama loves you, Dada loves you,Sirius loves you,Jennette loves you and Remus loves you." she whispered. "Be safe, my darlings." She put a hand up to the bars. "Be strong. Protect each other."

✫ ✫ ✫

The murderer forced the door open, cast aside the chairs and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand...and there she stood, her arms thrown wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding the twins from sight she hoped to be chosen instead...

"Not Harry and Rose, not them, please not them!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand
aside, now."

"Not them, please no, take me, kill me
instead --"

"This is my last warning --"

"Not them! Please...have mercy...have mercy...Not my children! Please -- I'll do anything --"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

He could have forced her away from the crib, but it seemed more prudent to finish them all...

The green light flashed around the room and with a final, bloodcurdling scream, she dropped like her husband. The children had not cried all this time: the boy could stand, clutching the bars of the crib, and he looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest, perhaps thinking that it was their father who hid behind the cloak, making more pretty lights, and their mother would pop up any moment, laughing --

He pointed the wand very carefully into the children's faces: He wanted to see it happen, the destruction of this one, inexplicable danger. The little girl remained sitting as she stared at him, her eyes wide with fear.

Her brother began to cry: He had seen that the man in front of them was not James. He scooted as close to his sister as possible. Tears brimmed in Rose's eyes as she reached a tiny arm out, taking Harry's hand and holding it tightly.

The man did not like either of them crying, he had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage --

"Avada Kedavra!" His dark voice only made the twins cry louder and as the curse hit Harry's forehead,Voldemort broke: He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and he must hide himself, not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the children were trapped and screaming.

The exact moment the curse hit Harry a lightning bolt scar formed on his head.
But as if a bolt of electriciy came through Rose and Harry's connected hands a lightning bolt slowly formed on her forehead.

And that was the moment Roseline Lily Potter and Harry James Potter were known as the Twins who lived.

○•°☆:*.❤︎.*:☆°•○

Late at night, in the town of Little Whinging, a grey tabby was perched up on the wall, showing no signs of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

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 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. 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.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

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.

"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.

"Oh yes, I've 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. "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?"

"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 didn't 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." 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."

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

"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 they're 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..."

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 children Harry,Rose. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill the twins. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Rose and Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

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

"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,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 Harry and Rose to their aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"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. "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. Rose and Harry Potter come and live here! Go take them to Jennette she's lovely she--"

"Has two children,that she must take care of. She doesn't have Regulus to help anymore." Dumbledore says. "This is the best place for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when they're 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 them! They'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about them two-- every child in our world will know their names!"

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

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding the Potter twins underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it -- wise -- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"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.

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.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got them out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol,took little Rosie over here,"he looked at the small child with ginger hair like her mother and hazel eyes like her father. "a little longer,kept watching over Harr' making sure he was okay.Like I'm goina hurt the little fella."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, were two babys, fast asleep. Unlike Rosline, as her hair cover the scar up,under a tuft of jet-black hair over Harry's forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -- ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "They'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 him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took the two Potters in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I -- could I say good-bye to them, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head overthe twins and gave them what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss, each on the head. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-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 Rosie and Harry 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 the remainding Potters gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blanket,that being quite difficult as Roseline was hugging onto Harry quite tightly in her blanket, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; 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.

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, Harry and Roseline," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

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.

Roseline Potter rolled over inside her blankets without waking up herself or Harry,who had one small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on. Nether twin knowing they were special, not knowing they were famous, not knowing they would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that they would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by their cousin Dudley... The twins couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry and Roseline Potter -- the twins who lived!"

[ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ]

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 4085 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀.
𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗼 𝗮 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗖𝗲𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗰 𝗗𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆,𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗼 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗳𝗼𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗦𝗼 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 '𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗢 𝗔 𝗥𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡. 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺,𝗽𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗲𝘄 𝗽𝗲𝘄 (𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗻𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗠𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀 𝗖𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞) (𝗜 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗔𝗻𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆'𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱) 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗥𝗼𝗻 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

𝗣𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱: 4th December 2021
𝗘𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱: 4th December 2021
𝗥𝗲𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻: No

---★---

𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏-𝙑𝙊𝙏𝙀-𝙁𝙊𝙇𝙇𝙊𝙒

-ᵉˡⁱᶻᵃᵇᵉᵗʰ (sʟғɢʟᴏᴡ)