Rosalie above.

|All rights go to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing except for Rosalie and her actions.|

*Edited*

This is more of a prologue than a first chapter, but I am doing my best to keep the same chapters as the book.

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The night after Dumbledore, Professor McGongall, and Hagrid gave Harry Potter to his new family, Professor McGonagall stood outside of another house. It was on North Avenue, house number one hundred and forty four.

It was a squat, two story house, painted a plain white, with a baby blue door and shutters. One person lay sleeping inside: Marjorie Eileen Dursley. Accompanying her on her bed was six Bulldogs. Six more dogs were scattered throughout the house.

Marge bred Bulldogs, and owned at least twelve. Professor McGonagall watched several through a window as she stood on the sidewalk. Marjorie, like the Dursley's, was just about as Muggle-like as one can get.

Professor McGonagall was depositing another little sleeping bundle with Marjorie and the twelve dogs. The existence of this little child was hardly known, only by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, several goblins, Hagrid, and Albus Dumbledore. It was not well known that Lily and James had a little girl, Harry's fraternal sister. Those who had heard, mostly assumed that it was a rumor.

But a rumor, it was not. It was true that they had a second child. This girl, too, must be left with the only other relative that were alive and near.

Marge was a nasty woman to those whom she disliked. Professor McGonagall hated to leave the little girl with her, but Marge had recently applied to adopt a child to assist her with the Bulldogs. That was the sole reason, obviously, as she disliked any and all children besides Dudley.

Albus Dumbledore had seen no better place for the girl to live until she was eleven, and Marge's letter was perfect for their excuse. Little did she know, though, her letter never did reach the orphanage. Instead, it lay in Dumbledore's office, where the baby would later be allowed to read it if she desired.

Professor McGonagall used a single hand to hitch up her robes, and then began walking forward. Her other arm held the baby girl close to her body. She believed that Dumbledore was correct, but she was extremely reluctant to leave the girl with Marjorie until she would be eleven.

She paused at the front stoop, looking at the Muggle house. After a shiver, she spoke lowly, to the girl.

"I hate to leave you here, in the hands of these Muggles, but Albus believes that it would be the best, for you to live and grow up in a normal household, at least for a fraction of your life. Don't worry; I will come and reintroduce you to our world once again once you turn eleven."

The professor tucked the blanket over the healing scar at her right temple. It was different than her brother's scar, instead seeming to originate from her temple and jagged lines shooting outward; the farthest line nearly reaching her cheekbone. Harry was older by twenty seven minutes, and each twin took strongly after their parents.

The child took strongly after her mother, claiming her red hair, bright green eyes, which they saw for a moment, when the child opened her eyes. Harry claimed his father's brown hair, and blue eyes.

Professor McGonagall removed a letter from her cloak, tucking it into the bundle that the baby was wrapped in. It contained the same contents as Harry's had, explaining the basics. There was another letter inside, one that Dumbledore had written, explaining that this was the child that they saw fit for Marge to adopt.

She carefully laid the child down, retreating a few feet. Before Apparating, she casted one last look at the girl, blinking furiously. Then, she was gone, no sign of her of ever being there, other than the lone baby on the step.

The girl briefly woke, opening her eyes. She took in her surroundings quickly, and then sank back into her slumber.

Marge was shocked when she opened her door to allow her Bulldogs to roam outside, to see a little baby girl on her doorstep. Marge gingerly plucked her up, reading the two letters.

She had no explanation for the baby girl at her door, other than the letters Professor McGonagall left for her:

Dear Marjorie Eileen Dursley,
This baby is Rosalie Lily Potter. At age eleven, we will come to take her to a special school for children like her. She has shown some advancement for her young age, and we wish to expand her knowledge of this.

She and her brother, Harry James Potter, were in a car accident with their parents. Unfortunately, their parents did not survive.

Your brother and his family have chosen to adopt Harry, as their own.

It is our wish that she grows up not knowing of her brother. We will introduce them when we believe the time is right.

Treat her well.
Professor Minerva McGonagall.

And the other letter:

Marjorie Eileen Dursley,
This is the child that, based on your letter of request, we saw fit to give you. Our apologies for the way she was left, also at the hour. However, we have no other way.

As said in the other letter, we will come to collect her at the age of eleven to take her to a special advanced school. She has shown some advanced talent for her age, and we wish to expand the knowledge of this field.

If you have any questions, please contact your brother and his family. They have been given another letter with a bit more of an explanation for all of this.

Thank you,
Albus Dumbledore.

The poor baby had no idea what was to come. Marjorie would treat her harshly, and the bulldogs would take after their owner, especially Ripper. When she would be reintroduced to the wizarding world, she would have so much to do, tasks no one should have complete at their young ages.