Fanfic: Harry Potter: The Second Generation by HPgen2 (Free to read, 564,411Clicks)

Description:

Generations are canyons through which love and pain echo in two-step harmony. History has a tendency to repeat itself in the Harry Potter universe. A young girl with a troubled past finds out that she is a witch one rainy summer night… Slow burn romance with an action plot (no romance until fourth year ) Nothing past the epilogue is canon imo. Will post at least once a week x This is also posted on fanfiction.net under the same user!

Characters:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive WarningsJames Sirius Potter/Original Character(s) Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus PotterScorpius Malfoy Albus Severus Potter James Sirius Potter Rose Weasley Harry Potter Teddy Lupin Louis Weasley Victoire Weasley Original Characters Weasley Family (Harry Potter) Minerva McGonagallSlow Burn Action & Romance Plot Romance Angst Fluff and Angst Post-Hogwarts Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Friends to Lovers Mutual Pining POV Albus Severus Potter Explicit Language Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net Slow Romance Slow Build Mystery Healing Suspense Dark Magic

Summary:

Summary:

Generations are canyons through which love and pain echo in two-step harmony. History has a tendency to repeat itself in the Harry Potter universe. A young girl with a troubled past finds out that she is a witch one rainy summer night… Slow burn romance with an action plot (no romance until fourth year ) Nothing past the epilogue is canon imo. Will post at least once a week x This is also posted on fanfiction.net under the same user!

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – The beginning

Chapter Text
Chapter 1McGonagall sighed. She was much too old to be out on the streets of London, and at this moment was seriously reconsidering her decision not to retire this year. But she hadn’t retired. She wasn’t ready to leave Hogwarts just yet, and that meant she had to shoulder the responsibilities of headmistress for yet another year. Part of those responsibilities included notifying young muggle born witches and wizards of their upcoming futures, and the truth of their magical abilities. There were younger teachers who could do the job, sure, but this was a delicate case. Part of her knew that one of the reasons she hadn’t retired this year was because this was a delicate case. Despite her old age and aching joints, McGonagall was curious.A light rain was drizzling, accumulating in thin, greasy puddles on the uneven asphalt of the narrow alleyway she now faced. It was usually quite easy to find the young muggle born children whose magic, though they did not know it as such, spilled over at times of great emotion. The trace was a strong and ancient magic, and it was never wrong. But, in this case, it seemed to be confused. The child that McGonagall was tracking, had been tracking since she apparated onto King Cross station early this morning, was ghost-like. The trace had picked up the magic use, but the child did not stay in one place long enough for McGonagall to send one of her staff to the address with a nice letter and a charming smile for confused parents. One night the magic would be in an abandoned factory on the shores of the Thames, and then it would be quiet again, and a few days later it would pop up behind a coffee shop near Westminster – there was no rhyme or reason to the frequent movements.There had been a stable address for this child, when the trace had first picked her up, around age four or so. The ministry had duly recorded that the child’s name was Elle Williams, of muggle mother Jessica Williams, father unknown. They had lived in an old and cramped studio flat for the next six years – the child had attended a local public school, the mother had worked as a bartender, there were occasional moments the trace picked up (the girl had apparently been fond of climbing trees a lot higher than she should have been able to) but all seemed normal. Then, about a year ago, all indications of magic from that flat building and public school had vanished. A week or two later, the trace had begun mapping the haphazard route that Elle was taking around London. Curiously, the ministry, upon trying to investigate, found that they could not find the flat’s address anywhere in their normally scrupulous records. The school reported that Elle had suddenly been withdrawn, and no forwarding address left. Something was odd, and McGonagall had come to find out what herself, tracking the child from the last trace indication (the tunnel of a play structure at a children’s park) all the way to the narrow and wet alleyway before her.McGonagall proceeded down the path, littered with junk, with caution. Discarded needles glinted between the trash bags that overflowed from the dumpsters on either side of her. The smell of rot and decay hung heavy in the air. A distant cacophony of nightclub music, yelling drunk men, and ambulance sirens echoed in the comparative silence of the path. This was no place for a child, especially at this time of night. There was no sign of life however, even as McGonagall approached the red brick dead end of the alley.She may be aging, but McGonagall was still a formidable witch. The child was here, she had tracked her well. She could use more magic to reveal her hiding place, but Minerva McGonagall, as severe as she may be, had a soft spot for children. If she could find the child without scaring her, she would do so.“Elle?” McGonagall asked, keeping her voice even and calm.“Jessica?” She tried, after receiving no response.McGonagall did not flinch, but her eyes darted immediately towards a small sound to her right. A young cat, not quite a kitten and not quite an adult, smoky grey and missing an ear, walked towards her. She smiled. McGonagall had always had a connection to cats. The cat hesitated, seeming to size her up. After a moment, the cat meowed amicably, winding itself between her legs. There was pause, and McGonagall felt as if she was being watched. Felt as if she was being considered. There was a rustling to her left this time. Out of the shadows, in a place McGonagall had sworn she had scanned just moments before and seen nothing, stepped the filthiest child she had ever seen.Elle Williams was tall for her age, her legs and arms long and sinewy. She was desperately thin, and the skin beneath her high cheekbones lacked the usual rosiness and fullness of youth. Deep plum bruises painted the shallows of her face, but despite her apparent exhaustion, her hazel eyes were alert and intelligent. She did not look like she had seen a bath in months. She crossed her arms over her t shirt, which may have been any colour to begin with, but now was brown with dirt and grime.“How do you know my mother’s name?” She asked McGonagall, furrowing her brow.“How do you know my name?” She added, flicking a strand of stringy, matted hair out her face so she could stare directly at McGonagall, gaze unimpeded.McGonagall paused, but only for a moment. This was the situation she had hoped she wouldn’t be stepping into when she faced this alley, but it was the one she had felt most likely. She had felt her suspicion grow in the pit of her stomach when she had first looked over the map of trace indications the ministry had presented to her at the beginning of the summer. She had well prepared for this moment.“My name is Minerva McGonagall” she started, meeting Elle’s firm and unwavering look. “I’ve come to bring an important message to you and your mother. I think the three of us should find somewhere we can all sit down and talk.”McGonagall could see disappointment flicker across Elle’s face, but only for a moment. A millisecond later, her face was stony and impassive.“I’ll let her know you want to speak with her when she turns up.” Elle replied coolly. “She hasn’t been around very much lately.”“When was the last time you saw your mother?” McGonagall asked, finding it hard to keep her voice from catching in her throat. She hadn’t expected the child to be alone.“About a year ago” Elle replied. McGonagall could tell she was trying very hard to keep her voice light and unemotional, but her age betrayed her, and her words shook the tiniest bit.“oh.” McGonagall whispered, despite herself. She cleared her throat and began again. “Elle let’s go for a walk. It looks like we both have stories to tell.”Elle paused, looking McGonagall up and down, her face defiant. “Are you a cop?” She asked bluntly. “Because I’m not going to get sent away to some home. I can climb out of almost anywhere” she added, her blazing eyes affirming she was not telling any lies.“I’m not a ‘cop’, Elle” McGonagall answered, pronouncing the foreign word carefully (she knew what a ‘cop’ was, but the word still did not fit comfortably in her mouth). “I am the headmistress of a school.”Elle seemed to accept this answer, though her body language was still guarded. “I didn’t think you were a cop” she said, “you don’t look like one at all, or I wouldn’t have come out to talk to you.” McGonagall could barely detect curiosity from behind the child’s tough façade. ‘Another year and I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell what she was feeling at all’ McGonagall mused. The streets did not nurture softness. “I’ll hear what you have to say.” Elle finished.“I know a place we can speak more comfortably” McGonagall answered, starting off towards the main street again. She would be glad to be rid the stench of the garbage strewn alleyway. Elle hesitated briefly but followed after her all the same. The one eared cat that had been watching them from the roof of a nearby dumpster fell into step by the child’s side. “Cat’s coming too” Elle added simply. McGonagall nodded her approval.The walk to the leaky cauldron had been silent. McGonagall could feel Elle’s eyes on the back of her head, the curiosity of her gaze heightened in the safety of periphery. She was sure that her head was swirling with questions. McGonagall’s own thoughts were tumbling through her mind at great speed. There were many owls that needed to be sent after Elle was safe, and McGonagall did not feel as if she would be satisfied with Elle’s circumstance before the night was spent and the dawn had bled into the mid-august morning. The exhaustion was already starting to settle onto her chest, heavy and encompassing, but there were priorities to hold. The utmost one of which was Elle. Where was this child’s mother? How had she survived on her own for over a year on the streets of London? Why? Every question that burned in her mind seemed to spawn a dozen more like it, each as red hot as the last. A flagrante curse that left her brain feeling swollen and overweary. Potter would take her owl. Maybe after hearing the child’s story she would send one off to Kingsley too. Her thoughts hadn’t been this jumbled since she had spent an entire day sitting on a low fence, watching the happenings on the unassuming Privet Drive many years ago. There were parallels here, she thought grimly. It didn’t sit right with her.Throughout the walk, Elle had remained completely silent, which McGonagall considered to be a remarkable show of self-restraint. Most eleven-year-olds would be rapid fire questioning the strange lady who knew her name and her mother’s name, and who had found her in the alley when it seemed no one else had even looked. More questions were bound to come when the full reasons behind their meeting were unveiled, McGonagall was sure. But first, a hot meal. Elle looked like she really needed it. McGonagall reckoned a gillywater would do her some good as well.The Leaky Cauldron lay nestled between the shops of Charring Cross road, as unassuming as ever. The streets had quieted down steadily the further they had moved from the rowdier pub district, and now the night was empty asides from McGonagall, Elle and the cat. The unlikely trio entered the doors of the pub, opening the doors to the magic world with ease. The insides had lost some of their dinginess since Tom had passed on from this world, but the great age of the furniture could not be erased with more frequent dusting. The room was empty save for the night barmaid, a young girl with a vaguely Eastern European accent that McGonagall did not recognize and who took their orders without batting an eye. As odd of a pairing this was, McGonagall knew that working the night shift at the Leaky Cauldron meant meeting much stranger company than this.Elle ate quickly but neatly. McGonagall sipped her gillywater, rehearsing her words as she watched Elle work through the steaming soup in front of her. At last, Elle looked up from her empty bowl, eyes expectant. ‘You first’ they seemed to say. McGonagall eyed the barmaid, who was conveniently wiping down long empty tables within earshot. Catching her glance, she sullenly returned to her post on the other end of the room. McGonagall cleared her throat once and started.“Earlier tonight I told you that I was headmistress of a school” McGonagall began, and Elle nodded in response. “It’s a very special school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” McGonagall continued, watching Elle’s reaction closely. The sentence had clearly taken her aback, but Elle wasn’t protesting loudly. Instead, it seemed to have triggered a deep concentration. The cogs were turning behind those sharp, intelligent eyes. “You are a witch” McGonagall followed, “as am I. I’m sure there have been moments in your life, times where things have happened to you that you can’t quite explain. Especially when you were feeling very happy, or mad.”“Or scared” Elle whispered, barely audible. McGonagall’s heart lurched. “Yes, or very scared” she agreed. “In those moments, things may have happened, things that you couldn’t quite explain. Things that seem just like magic” McGonagall continued, falling into the standard script she had rehearsed for all muggle-born children.Elle’s brow was knitted in concentration of thought. “Sometimes it feels like I can disappear” Elle started, her eyes never leaving McGonagall’s. She was gauging her reaction, and having not detected shock or revulsion, continued on. “Watch” she said simply. Elle pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. She backed up against the wall behind her, and then closed her eyes. Then she simply vanished. McGonagall let out a quick exhale of surprise. It was of course, not a perfect concealment charm. Having been warned, McGonagall now knew what to look for – she could see a slight shimmering around the particularly sharp contours of Elle’s bony body. She doubted that the charm would withstand any magic meant to reveal it, but it was still very advanced magic for a child, especially one without a wand. It didn’t completely shock her, however. Magic had a way of presenting itself in the untrained witch or wizard in the ways it was needed the most, and McGonagall thought that Elle had probably needed to disappear very often in the last thirteen months.“That is very good Elle” McGonagall murmured.McGonagall reached into the fold of her robe and produced her wand for the first time. Elle melted back into view, her eyes not even trying to hide the brilliant curiosity anymore. She tapped the empty bowl in front of her, and a fat albino turtle started crawling on the table instead. Elle gasped. “With proper training and a wand someday you’ll be able to perform spells like this.” McGonagall said, returning the turtle to its original ceramic form with a wave of her wand.“Really?” Elle asked, her voice breathless with wonder. The childlike innocence had crept back into her voice in her excitement. “What else can you do?” She asked, turning to McGonagall with a kind of reverence.“Many things that you too will learn at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry” McGonagall replied. “Transfiguration is only one subject of many.”“Wow” Elle sighed. Already however, the excitement was fading. “But I don’t have any money” she said, lowering her head in shame. “I can’t buy a wand or any books or pay any school fees. And I can’t leave London. What if my mum comes back to find me and I’ve disappeared?” Elle finished, looking dejected.“The money issue is already solved” McGonagall replied. “There is a fund at Hogwarts for students who need help purchasing their supplies. You won’t be able to buy everything brand new, but you will have everything you need to be a great student”. Elle raised her eyes to meet McGonagall’s, a twinge of hope surfacing. “As for your mother” McGonagall continued, “I think you ought to tell me the whole story, and we can decide from there how best to find her.”Elle paused for a long minute. You could see that she was fighting many conflicting emotions. A deep desire to go to this school and learn magic. A deep embarrassment at having to accept help in order to be able to attend. A fierce desire to protect her mother, to keep any promises she had made to her, but also a desperate need to find her, which it was looking like she wouldn’t be able to do on her own. Eventually, she started speaking.“There’s not much of a story to tell.” Elle began, “One day, right when school was let out for summer, I came home from the park and Mum was packing our bags. She told me that we were going on a trip. She looked scared, and she was talking really fast. I don’t remember everything that she said, a lot of it didn’t make sense. She said that she needed to do one last thing, and then we could spend the summer vacation camping all along England and that it would be really fun. She took me downtown and it was really late and dark. We stopped at a station in the tube and she told me that she needed to get on the next train so she could take care of the ‘one last thing’, and that I needed to wait here because she needed to go alone. I cried and begged her to take me with her, but she didn’t. Right before she left, she told me that she would be back before the day started, and that if she wasn’t, I shouldn’t go back to the flat and I shouldn’t tell anyone that she was gone. She made me promise that I would find somewhere else to wait, and that if she wasn’t back by dawn that I would keep moving around in the city and that she would find me when she could. She made me pinky promise I would do what she said so I did.” Elle finished her story quickly, it having tumbled out of her with increasing speed. You could tell that once she had started, she hadn’t wanted to stop. “That’s the last time I saw her. I was on my own for the first little while and it was really scary but then I found Cat in the gutter and it wasn’t so bad after that.” Elle added after a moment of silence. Cat purred reassuringly from where he had settled onto Elle’s lap.McGonagall considered Elle a moment longer before speaking. This child had carried a very heavy burden and had done so with grace. She reminded her achingly of another young boy who had sat in the Leaky Cauldron a long time ago, also discussing a tragic story, a tale that Hagrid had been fond of retelling at Hogwarts. The same feeling of unease that had plagued McGonagall’s walk returned to her now. There was something going on here, something that Elle couldn’t quite understand but had felt fully bear down on her shoulders. “I know a few people, very good witches and wizards, whose job it is to find people who are lost” McGonagall spoke as evenly as she could. That wasn’t exactly the job description of aurors, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. “I’m going to write to them today, and they’re going to look into where your mother went for you.”“Do you think they would care?” Elle asked uncertainly, not trusting the feeling of hope that was clearly rising in her chest. “I don’t think she was magic at all. Just my mum.”“They will care.” McGonagall replied firmly. “And we’re going to figure out what’s happened.” She added, a promise she made uneasily, unsure of if she could keep it or not. “In the meantime, you can attend Hogwarts. It’ll be easier to find you if you stay in one place. The train leaves in two weeks, on September first. Until then you can stay here at the Leaky Cauldron, there are some rooms for board upstairs.” McGonagall rustled through her robes for a moment, and produced a letter and a small bag, placing both gently on the table. “This letter will explain everything you need to know before you head off to Hogwarts.” McGonagall did not add that she had meant for her mother to read it, not her. “And in this bag, you will find all the money you need to purchase your school supplies. Pay full price for a brand-new wand, but everything else you can find perfectly good second hand.”Elle hesitated yet again, her hands fidgeting but not reaching for the two gifts. “Elle” McGonagall said, looking firmly into her eyes “your mother would want you to go.” Elle nodded. She took the letter and money bag, handling them carefully, as if they were fragile and would disappear if she squeezed them too hard.They both rose together, turning towards the barmaid who immediately looked down and started furiously scrubbing clean pots in front of her. The first whispers of dawn were climbing up the sky in on the windows to their right. Elle must be exhausted, McGonagall thought. She was exhausted herself, but it would be long after Elle was tucked into bed that she would herself find rest. She had tried very hard to keep her face calm when Elle had told her story, but the truth was that it had troubled her deeply. Potter and Kingsley would get her owls before the day had truly began. The Weasleys wouldn’t hurt either. And there were a few old friends that still worked in Diagonal Alley that she would ask to keep an eye on Elle for the next little while. She sighed internally. She wondered how long it would take the barmaid to spread the mysterious story around the whole of Diagon Alley. She hoped that a reputation didn’t precede Elle as she entered her first year at Hogwarts. She needed a fresh start.

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