Chapter Text
Once upon a time, she was called Rose. She was born as the seventh month died, as Fate looked on with a satisfied smile, as Death tilted his head and watched for the first time. Her parents were James and Lily, and they loved her enough to die for her.
Once upon a time, she was called Rose.
This is not that story.
~
It didn’t take long for her to realize what had happened. She’d died and then woken in her once-grandmother’s arms, and while she’d never been a Ravenclaw, she’d spent enough time around Hermione to know.
Reincarnation.
Her name was Evangeline Potter, and her father was her brother while her grandparents were her parents. Either way, though, they were family, and she’d never had a blood family before, not in any way that mattered.
(she shoved aside thoughts of a cupboard, of hopeful green eyes peering up whenever she did something correctly only to be ignored, sniffed at, shoved aside alone in the darkness -)
(this was not that story)
They loved her - it was clear in the way they spoke, soft, kind words; in the way they held her, a gentle touch she had never been old enough to remember; in the way they looked at her, filled with wonder and affection.
Her infant years passed in a haze, her mind not yet developed enough for any real semblance of memory and awareness. She knew, of course, that she’d been reborn, reborn into the family she’d never known, but her mind wasn’t yet advanced enough for her to draw any conclusions or make any plans.
Slowly, though, the haze cleared. In her toddler years, she spoke for the first time, and her parents were so happy they cried. Neither of them were offended that her first word hadn’t been ‘mama’ or ‘papa,’ because how could they be, when she’d reached out to her brother with chubby arms and called him ‘Jay’?”
(the first time he saw her, James had beamed his toddler smile and clapped)
‘Mama’ and ‘papa’ came soon after, of course - it was frustrating to be a child with the awareness of an adult, and if she had to pass herself off as an early bloomer or childhood genius, then so be it. Better to have them accustomed to it now then surprise them later.
(she mourned the part of herself that’d jumped into things headfirst without any semblance of a plan, but she’d always been more Slytherin than she’d let on and it was time to let that out)
~
“You’ll write to me, won’t you?”
“Every week,” James promised, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.
“And you’ll pay attention in your classes?”
James grimaced. “You’re not mum, Evie.”
She frowned at him. “Classes are important.”
He rolled his eyes, ruffling her hair. “Such a Ravenclaw,” he said fondly. “I’ll see you at Yule, yeah?”
She nodded, forcing back tears. “I’ll miss you. But you’ll have a grand time at Hogwarts, I just know it.”
James blinked, then lowered his voice. “Have you… you know…”
Evangeline rolled her eyes fondly. “Yes. Off you go, then.”
His grin widened. He’d already said goodbye to their parents, so with that, he hopped onto the train, trunk floating behind him. Evangeline swallowed, watching him go. His face appeared in one of the windows, waving wildly as the train pulled out of the station. Evangeline waved back, beaming, but a heavy feeling in her stomach. She could see a young boy with wavy black hair waving next to him, a girl with red hair and a boy with a hooked nose above him in the window. She’d been there once, in a memory, watched them make history. Now, history was moving, time was passing, and she was beginning to feel the pressure.
“Come on, Evie,” her mother said, wiping away her tears as the train vanished into the distance. “Let’s go home.”
~
It wasn’t a surprise James had grown up spoiled as he had in her past life - his parents had had him late in life and, as an only child, they’d given him everything he’d wanted. In this one, though, he had a sister, another miracle baby just a year after the first, and his responsibilities as an older brother had been impressed upon him at a young age. She hoped that, maybe, he’d be less of a spoiled bully in this life.
Her mother sighed as they stepped out of the floo into the foyer. “It’s so quiet,” she murmured.
Her father grinned. “I can blow something up if you miss it that much.”
Euphemia’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Don’t you dare.”
Fleamont laughed. “Well, I’m off to the lab,” he said cheerfully. He ruffled Evangeline’s hair - really, what was it with the men in her family and hair-ruffling? - before ambling off. Euphemia sighed and turned to her.
“Did you really See James making friends?” she asked softly.
Evangeline nodded, smiling up at her. “He makes friends he’ll keep his whole life,” she said. “I’m sure the next letter he writes will be all about them.”
The lines in Euphemia’s face seemed to ease. “Good,” she said. “That’s good.”
That was another difference between this life and the last - she was a Seer, in this one. It manifested in dreams, in flashes when she was awake, and seemed to be entirely random. It helped her explain her maturity, though, and her foreknowledge, so Evangeline wasn’t complaining.
“I suppose you’ll be going to the library, then?” Euphemia asked, but there was a note of wistfulness in her voice.
Evangeline felt a pang - she’d never been a child, not really. She’d never quite needed her parents in the way James had, and while they never brought it up, she could see it in the way they looked at her, sometimes. Now, with James gone, it was clear to all of them that Evangeline would be quite content on her own.
“Actually,” she said, “I was wondering if I might read in your study.”
Euphemia smiled down at her, and Evangeline’s heart lightened. “Of course. You’re always welcome in my study, Evie.”
Evangeline brightened. “Brilliant! I’ll just go get a book then, shall I?”
~
It was lonely, without James, Evangeline had found. She missed him despite his letters which, as he’d promised, arrived weekly. She spent much of her time with her mother, gravitating towards her, and would often be found reading on a couch in Euphemia’s study while Euphemia went over her documents. Whenever Euphemia, as the current holder in Fleamont’s place, was at a Wizengamot meeting, Evangeline was with her father in the potions lab.
Evangeline was quite good at potions. James never had the patience for it, but Evangeline, remembering Slughorn’s Slug Club, worked until she was. She’d graduated from her tutors ages ago, and was now self-studying everything from arithmancy to defence.
Her real passion, though, lay in ancient runes. Both arithmancy and runes were new to her, and therefore interesting, so she couldn’t resist reading up on the subjects and discovered she had quite a knack for ancient runes. She loved the meanings and history behind each rune, and soon found herself drawing out runic arrays for fun. She never activated them, of course, not without supervision, but her tutors were always astounded at their complexity.
James, of course, was appalled at how her days were spent with books.
You need to get out more, Evie, he chided gently in one of her letters. You’re just like one of my friends, Remus, only he at least has the rest of us to drag him out of the library once in a while. You’ll waste away if you only spend time indoors. Why don’t you go to Diagon sometime?
She was warmed by the concern for her, of course, but couldn’t resist being cheeky.
Of course, James. Diagon’s a wonderful idea - I haven’t been to Obscurus in quite some time, they must have new books by now.
~
She did end up going to Diagon in the end. James, the cad, had written to their parents about it, and Euphemia thought it was a wonderful idea. The two of them went one weekday afternoon, when it wouldn’t be quite so crowded, flooing into the Leaky Cauldron and saying a quick hello to Tom behind the counter.
“You’re not really going to drag me to Twilfitt and Tattings, are you, mum?” Evangeline asked, a note of pleading in her voice.
Euphemia smiled at her fondly. “Of course not. We’re going to Knockturn.” She winked. “Now, you remember the rules -”
“Hood up, chin high, shoulders back,” Evangeline recited. “Stay close to you, and if anyone grabs me, anything I do is in self-defence.”
Euphemia smiled. “Excellent. Now, come along.”
It’d shocked her, the first time, when Euphemia had come home from Diagon with a book on ancient runes that Evangeline was certain was illegal. She’d always thought of the Potters as a Light family, but that notion had been quickly disabused by learning Euphemia’s maiden name - Rosier. A distant branch, yes, but still. The Potters were firmly Neutral, neither Light nor Dark, Progressive nor Traditional. It was part of why her parents had been nothing but pleased when James had found a best friend in Sirius Black, why they had no compunctions about their son befriending both the scion of the Black family and half-blood Remus Lupin.
Evangeline walked a half-step behind her mother as they headed to Obscurus Books. It was a ratty second-hand bookstore deep down Knockturn, but the number of treasures Evangeline had found there disabused her of any prejudice she may have had towards it. The bell rang as they entered, the hag who owned the shop nodding at them in recognition.
And hadn’t that been a shock, learning that part of the reason Knockturn was looked down upon was because it catered to non-humans? Of course, there was the illegal thing, but that was secondary to the non-human thing. It was packed with dark creatures, like Mrs. Abernathy, the hag who owned Obscurus Books, which was why her mother felt comfortable taking her there - as a dark pureblood from a Traditionalist family who advocated for the rights of dark creatures, she had nothing to fear and so, therefore, neither did her daughter.
The world wasn’t made up of good people and Death Eaters, as Sirius had said a lifetime ago, and Evangeline had learned that.
Now that they were inside the store, Evangeline was able to pull down her hood. She smiled and waved at Mrs. Abernathy, who smiled fondly in return.
“Lady Potter,” she greeted. “And little Evangeline. I have a book here that I think you’d like.”
Evangeline looked at her mother for permission. At her nod, she bounded up to the counter as Mrs. Abernathy pulled out a large, thick tome.
“A History of Druidic Magic,” Mrs. Abernathy said proudly. “One of only two copies in existence.”
Evangeline’s mouth fell open. “No way,” she breathed. Her fingers hovered over the book, too in awe to even touch it. She could feel the magic coming off it - books on Druidic magic were rare, very rare. The Druids had died out before Hogwarts was founded, and they’d passed down their magic by word of mouth. This book was worth more than everything in the shop combined.
She looked back at her mother, pleading in her eyes, and Euphemia sighed, smiling slightly. She and Mrs. Abernathy began to haggle, eventually settling on a price of a hundred galleons - a small fortune, but they could more than afford it.
“Thank you,” Evangeline said breathlessly as her mother tucked the book into her bag. Old books, ones imbued with magic, couldn’t be shrunken lest it interfere with the book’s own magic.
Mrs. Abernathy smiled fondly at her. “Of course. A great many others would’ve been interested in the book, but you are my only customer whom I believe will appreciate it for what it is.”
“I’ll do my best,” Evangeline vowed. “Thank you so, so much. You don’t know how grateful I am.”
Mrs. Abernathy smiled. “Oh, I have some idea. You’ll be off to Hogwarts soon, won’t you?”
“Next September,” Euphemia confirmed, a note of pride in her voice. “She’s more than powerful enough.”
“Congratulations,” Mrs. Abernathy said warmly. “I’ll miss you, though. I don’t think any of my other customers appreciate books quite as much as you do.”
“I’ll miss you, too.”
“Any idea what house you’ll be in?”
“My brother says I’m set for Ravenclaw,” Evangeline said.
Mrs. Abernathy raised her eyebrows. “Ravenclaw?” she mused. “I suppose, but I had you pegged for Slytherin.”
Evangeline blinked. Next to her, Euphemia smiled slightly. “So did I, actually.”
Evangeline gaped up at her mother in shock. Euphemia didn’t look at her, but her smile widened. Mrs. Abernathy cackled.
“A Potter in Slytherin!” she said. “That’ll be something.” She waggled her finger at Evangeline. “You better visit me over the summer,” she said sternly. “Else I might visit you.”
Evangeline giggled. “Yes, Mrs. Abernathy,” she said obediently.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Mrs. Abernathy sniffed. “Now, run along now, little snake. I’ll keep an eye on what I can find for you.”
Evangeline smiled widely. “Thank you, Mrs. Abernathy.”
She and her mother left. Evangeline tugged on her mother’s sleeve.
“Will you and dad really not mind if I’m in Slytherin?” she asked earnestly. Her mother had been a Slytherin, she knew, but she was a Potter now, and the Potters had been Gryffindors since time immemorial.
“Of course not,” Euphemia said sternly. “Slytherin is a fine house.” She looked at Evangeline, and her face softened slightly. She put a hand on Evangeline’s back. “Your father and I have known you’d be in Slytherin for ages,” she said.
“But James -”
His letters home had been full of accusations and anger against the Slytherins. Well, she suspected it was one Slytherin in particular, but he still grouped the whole house together.
“James is young,” Euphemia said. “He’ll grow up.”
That wasn’t comforting at all. She wanted - needed - to be in Slytherin. That was where she’d hone her cunning, where she’d learn who her brother’s enemies were. While not all Death Eaters came from Slytherin, enough of them did, and many of them were highly prejudiced against muggles and muggleborns. She’d gotten the idea that the split between Gryffindor and Slytherin hadn’t been as bad in her parents’ day, which was how the two had gotten together, but with Voldemort rising, it was only getting worse, and could only go downhill from there.
She would be in Slytherin. Evangeline had vowed this long ago. She just hoped her brother wouldn’t hate her for it.