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 The alarm blared and blared and blared. Swearing loudly, I rolled out of bed and poked it with my wand, causing it to explode in a ball of sparks. I groaned as I really hate mornings. Something I apparently inherited from James Potter, he was a right lazy so and so according to my mum. Muttering a quick repair spell on the clock (this must be the millionth time I’ve broken it, thank goodness for magic) I traipse off to the shower.

I really am dead to the world until I’ve had my morning shower and a nice cup of tea. Yet another reason that I am so much like my dad. He would always preach to me the importance of caffeine and I’ve really taken that lesson to heart. But hey, I’m rambling a little bit now. Anyway, I showered, and then headed back to my room. I still didn’t have an en-suite bathroom but dad had promised to finish it whilst I was gone. How hard can a few simple DIY spells be? But you’re probably wondering where I was going. Ah, now this is the beginning of my story. This is the day I was finally going to Hogwarts…


My parents didn’t want me going to Hogwarts over the last few years. The reasoning for this was simple, I would be in the year below Harry Potter and ever since he had gone to Hogwarts, bad things had been happening. The Chamber of Secrets, The Triwizard Tournament, The death of Dumbledore. It was only now, that Voldemort was dead, that they felt comfortable enough to send me there. That and the fact that Harry Potter had left. Or so they thought…


I stood, checking my reflection in the mirror. I was very much like my dad, though to be fair my parents were so alike it was hard to tell the difference. They were both dark haired and acted in similar ways. The main distinguishing features were that mum is quite slender whereas dad is lanky. And of course, their eyes. I have my dad’s deep brown eyes, whereas my sister has my mum’s startling blue. I was also quite tall and skinny but at the same time I like to think I was good looking. I dunno, the three Muggles who fell in love with me seemed to think I was but I hadn’t really had much experience with wizards. My hair, like my parents, was dark, almost black. It was cut shortish, below my chin but just above my shoulders. I liked it that way; it wasn’t stupid long and yet at the same time it wasn’t so short I was mistaken for a boy. I admired my reflection for a few minutes as most girls do, before I started picking problems with it, as most girls do. I pulled out my wand.

“Reflecticus, mobilicus!” I chorused, waving my wand and bringing my reflection to life, whilst still inside the mirror. I found it was a useful way to measure my appearance, having your own personal stylist (even if it was just your reflection) went a long way. This was my first day. I needed to impress.

“So what are we thinking today?” I asked my reflection.

“Jeans, nothing too formal, especially as you’ll put robes over the top anyway,” it instructed, motioning to my jeans rack behind me, which consisted of less than 5 pairs. Hardly worthy of its own rack to be honest.

“Good idea, I’m thinking the navy’s,” I said, pulling on my favourite pair of navy jeans. They were worn out from all the times I’d worn them but I didn’t care. The reflection rolled its eyes, it had given up arguing with me when it came to those jeans. I grinned and reached for a top.

“What about the white one?” the reflection suggested.

“Bit low cut,” I replied. “Don’t want to look like a slag on my first day.”

“Hence the jeans,” the reflection pointed out.

I smiled at it and wrenched on my favourite sky blue top. The reflection scowled slightly. Whatever it said, nine days out of ten I ended up wearing the exact same thing, because I liked it so much. I hurled the rest of my tops, skirts, dresses and jeans into my trunk, pulled on a cardigan and disposed of the rest into the trunk and then finished packing. I brushed my hair and pulled it up into a loose ponytail, something I’d had a lot of practice at doing. I applied a small amount of makeup, grinned once more at my reflection and froze it back into place. Satisfied with the way I looked, I headed downstairs, the smell of my mum’s bacon fresh in my nostrils. One thing I could always rely on my mum for was a delicious cooked breakfast. Bacon, sausage, toast, that was my forte. As I wolfed down my bacon and sausage sandwich, smothered in ketchup of course, my mum watched, smiling.


“Hungry Carnivore?” she asked. My mum often called me Carnivore at meal times because I ate stupid amounts of meat, yet another thing I had my dad to thank for.

“When am I not?” I replied, licking my lips clean and then wiping my face with a napkin.

“Fair enough,” my mum laughed. “You’d better get a move on, Amy’ll be here soon. It’s twenty past ten.”

I grinned at the mention of my big sister. Amy was picking me up to take me to King’s Cross and I loved her to pieces. She’d been to Hogwarts and had finished several years back, before Voldemort’s return. Now, she was engaged to an amazing guy and was working with the Ministry for Magic. I hadn’t seen much of her recently because she’d been very busy so I was excited about seeing her today. My mum noticed the look on my face and motioned towards my dad, who was entering the room, ready to floo to work. I pulled him into a huge hug and kissed his cheek.

“Bye dad, I’m gonna miss you whilst I’m away,” I said, smiling.

“Don’t worry, I’ll owl you every now and then, make sure you’re doing okay,” he replied. “Just remember everything I’ve taught you.”

And with that he was gone. He’d taught me magic for as long as I could remember and now he was gone. Time to take my own steps. Lucy Hunt, out into the world. Oh yeah, my name, probably should’ve mentioned that earlier. Lucy Rose Hunt, at your service. You probably haven’t heard the name and that’s fine. You’ll work out who I am soon enough.


Anyway, my sister arrived, looking as gorgeous as always. Her long blonde hair flowed down her back (yes she was a brunette like me but got it dyed just before her last 6th at Hogwarts) and her startling blue eyes were shimmering like the sea. She was happy, successful, and beautiful. My role model. She pulled up in her muggle car, a Vauxhall Astra. Nothing wrong with it and it wasn’t too flashy. She pulled me into a bone-crusher and then allowed James to do the same. James Black was amazing. He was funny, handsome, smart, everything Amy could want in a guy. They’d got together shortly before they left Hogwarts and had moved in together a couple of years later. Six months ago, James had asked her to marry him and wedding preparations were underway. I was so happy for them it was silly.

“So how are you little sis?” Amy asked as I said goodbye to my mum and we headed off.

“I’m good thanks,” I replied. “How’s the wedding plans coming along?”

“Not too bad,” James interjected. “She doesn’t want to settle on a date though.”

“I don’t know when you’re back from Hogwarts,” Amy admitted. “And you have to be there Lucy. So no James, I’m not finalising a date. You still ignoring your reflection?”

I blushed slightly as she caught me out. “A little.”

“Good, who needs anyone to tell you what to wear?” James winked at me.

“You do,” Amy teased. “I still dress you most mornings.”
That shut James up for a while.


We arrived at the station by 10:45. I wanted to ensure I was there early so I had time to meet people. My sister pulled me aside, smiling as she did so.

“Are you all set for Hogwarts Luce?” she asked, grinning.

“Definitely. I can’t wait to finally meet him.”

No words needed. She knew exactly who I was referring to. She always knew.

“Harry Potter. He’s definitely coming then?”

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Everyone wants to meet Harry Potter, the great Harry Potter who defeated Lord Voldemort. And yes, that is the main reason that I decided to go to Hogwarts but it’s not the only reason. Honestly. And besides, unlike most people, I have a genuine reason for wanting to meet him.

“Yep. I checked and it said in the Daily Prophet that him and his friends were heading back to retake their 7th year. Everyone in the school was offered it because of how messed up their previous year was.”

“And mum and dad?”

“They didn’t know. Luckily. For some reason they don’t want me meeting him. But they were willing to let me go because they thought all that drama would be over.”

“They don’t want you to meet him because they’re worried. They left that part of their life behind a long time ago, for good reason. You know what happened to Amy Kingston.”

“I know but I don’t understand why they want to isolate themselves from the outside world,” I replied.

“It’s not that,” Amy soothed. “It’s just that everything they’ve been through has been hard and they don’t want to open old wounds. Besides, everyone they knew is dead now. Sirius, Remus, even Snape. They’ve left it too late now. Nobody knows them and they won’t exactly be treated like heroes. Anyone who ever knew them thought they were dead.”

“Yeah I know,” I faltered slightly. It was right of my parents to want this to not happen. But I couldn’t live my life without revealing the truth, without understanding my family. “You don’t agree with what I’m going to do, do you?”

“No I don’t,” Amy replied calmly. “But it’s your choice and if you feel you need to then do it. It’s your life and your decision. If you need to know, then talk to him.”

“Thanks Amy.”

“You’re welcome Lucy.”


The train was ready to leave and after a teary goodbye, I left my sister on the platform at 10:57. I hunted through the compartments, observing all the little children, terrified about their first year at Hogwarts. Others looked like shells of their former selves, having experienced the Battle Of Hogwarts just a few months previously. There were older, joking students who seemed to be happy and hadn’t really experienced the pain head on. Despite the fact that Voldemort was dead, the train didn’t feel happy. It felt…down. Like nothing was the same. Near the end of the train, I spotted who I had been looking for. It was a boy, tall and strong with jet black hair that was very messy and glasses that framed his face. Above all else though, I recognised him from the scar on his forehead, a gift from Voldemort before his death. I gasped slightly. This was the boy I’d wanted to meet my whole life. He was sitting with a girl, a red-head who I guessed was Ginny Weasley, his girlfriend. I bit my lip and knocked on the door, not wanting to appear rude by coming in without being invited.

“Come in, don’t be shy,” he said, smiling warmly.

“Hi,” I said, entering the compartment and feeling uncomfortable. How could I go about this?

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Lucy Hunt,” I said. The name meant nothing to him. “I’m your cousin.”

His jaw dropped. I tried to smile but it came out as more of an awkward shrug. Neither of us spoke before Ginny opened her mouth.

“How is that possible? Harry?”

“I can’t have a cousin that’s a wizard,” Harry said, stuttering slightly. “Who are you?”

I guess it’s time to tell my story. To Harry, to Ginny and to the world. Hold tight guys, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

 

A/N: Hey again avid readers and followers. Or newcomers. Welcome to all, to Lost Potters 3. For those of you who have read Lost Potters 1 and 2, thanks for sticking with the series. For those of you that haven't and are completely lost, Chapter 2 provides an in-depth retelling of the first two books. Or, alternatively, you could read them ;) I've written much of this story so updates will be constant for a while anyway and i'd like to now beg for reviews. Please please please with a cherry on top. HP

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