It was a quiet morning when Violet died. The weather was mild and many were still in bed, dreaming of dreams which would soon be forgotten. They had no knowledge of the girl's death, could not even begin to understand the consequences of such an occurrence. For whilst they slept in their beds, having gone to bed content, if not happy with their lot in life, Violet Lily Potter was curled up tight in her cupboard, beaten and starved and in so much pain.

Violet had only lived for 7 short years, had barely even experienced a childhood, let alone a lifetime. Abandoned on her Aunt's doorstep on a cold Halloween night, she had been locked away and feared, a stain upon her Aunt's family and reputation. Number 4 Privet Drive, the house she would die in, was all she had ever known, all she remembered. Her cupboard was her sanctuary, the kitchen her place of work, and the restroom a privilege she had to earn. The rest of the house was forbidden to her. So, as she closed her eyes that morning, having been deprived of sleep from the pain, she was ready to sleep forever.

However, this girl was a special little girl. This girl had already survived death once. This girl, little more than an infant, had looked upon a man who feared death, yet yielded it with a natural skill. This girl had looked death come upon her and smiled. Though the tales tell it differently, this little girl died. Her heart stopped beating and her brain had stopped working. Yet her soul refused to move on, despite her Mother's beckoning. No. This little girl was special. This little girl opened her eyes.

Now, as Violet's heart ceased to beat once more, she could not remember her last death. She smiled, once again, and was ready for peace.

Unfortunately, as bright green eyes opened and her heart started to beat again, the girl realised she would never know peace again.


Petunia Dursley was a good housewife and a good mother. Her beautiful boy, her precious Dudley, was the pinnacle of a well-bred and healthy lad. Her husband was a strong and ruthless business man, bringing home an adequate wage to support her family's position of comfort. Her house was always tidy, decorated in the latest fashions, much like her neighbours. They were seen as a proud family, normal in the very best ways which suited suburban living. However, Petunia Dursley had a secret, one she was loath to share. One she found abandoned on her doorstep. One with her sister's eyes.

Lily Evans had always been well-liked; by her parents, by her peers, and, once, by her sister. With an infectious smile and a kind heart, Lily had always stolen the attention from her elder sister. However, they were close as sisters could be until she realised how … abnormal … Lily was. She could do things no one had the right to do, making flowers bloom in the dead of winter, making mirrors and windows shatter when her temper flared. It wasn't until the letter came that she had proof that her sister was different. And by God, did Petunia wish she was different too.

A letter written in desperation and hope had been sent to the kindly and magical man, headmaster of her sister's new school. Whatever hope she had faded when she received the reply. That was when Petunia realised, properly, that she wasn't special. She wasn't beautiful or particularly clever. She wasn't magical. She was just Petunia. Plain Petunia. As Lily returned with tales of her adventures, of classes, of spells, Petunia saw her sister in a new light. She saw her sister learning to do abnormal things, things that could change the very nature of people and things. What Lily saw as pranks and jokes, Petunia saw things that could harm. Petunia saw the danger.

The longer Lily's letters came, the more Petunia could read between the lines. The brief mention of a conflict in politics became a war before her very eyes, ink and tears retelling her sister's fears. Petunia wanted nothing to do with that world. Even when Lily picked that world over her sister, over her family, Petunia refused to even mention that awful, abnormal world. The distance between sisters grew and became ultimately fractured when her parents died. Freak accident the coroners and police said. A terrorist attack, her sister said. Magic had killed her parents and Petunia had wondered how long it would take before Lily met the same fate.

It was 4 weeks.

Petunia Evans had lost her entire family within a month. She had made herself a new family, of course, years before her sister's death. Marrying a young but stalwart Vernon Dursley and becoming a mother herself had eased some of the spite within Petunia's heart. But Petunia Evans was not Petunia Dursley. Evans was a spirited young girl who loved her little sister and wanted to be just as special. Petunia Dursley was proud of her normality, proud of her little family. Dursley was good and normal and safe. Nothing could endanger that.

But then a little girl with her sister's eyes turned up on her doorstep and Petunia Dursley was scared. Scared for her family, scared for her sister and scared for the normal life she craved. A letter had briefly described her sister's death, alongside her sister's husband. The letter ordered Petunia to care for Lily's daughter, to love her, to keep her safe. But Petunia Dursley was scared and she did what many fearful people did. She locked the thing that scared her away, out of sight and out of mind, and ran to her husband.

Vernon Dursley was just as scared but Vernon never ran. Oh no. Vernon faced his fear and set out to beat the thing that scared him into submission. Perhaps too well.

Petunia and Vernon Dursley looked down at the little girl, bruised and broken. Her chest wasn't moving and she lay unnaturally still. As Petunia raised a shaking hand towards the girl's wrist, searching for a pulse, she was both disappointed and relieved. The girl, Lily's girl, who had so much danger underneath her skin and behind her eyes, was gone. She could no longer pose a threat to her family and she never would. However, this was Lily's girl and she was dead. Dead at her husband's hand. Petunia didn't know what to do, didn't know how to feel. She sat frozen, the girl's wrist lay limply in her bony hand.

Vernon Dursley was not as numb as his wife. His mind was whirling, perhaps faster than it ever had before. He had little sympathy or regret for the brat's death. In fact, he was glad that those large eyes, eyes that saw straight into his soul, would never open again. However, he needed to get rid of the girl's body lest the authorities take affront. Whilst he hatched plot after plot, a small, silver device in Scotland had stopped spinning. It had stopped dead.


Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore appeared outside Number 4 Privet Drive and broke the door down, shattering the quiet of the early morning. What they saw would forever burden both men for the rest of their life. Violet Potter, too small for her age, lay broken beneath the feet of a reddening Muggle. Her body was twisted in a strange way, having been dragged out of the cupboard she had died in. Snape, clad in the darkest of blacks, held the muggles at wand point whilst Albus walked slowly toward the girl, tears blurring his eyes, and proceeded to wave his wand over her. He diagnosed that she had been dead for hours, alone in the dark, probably scared and in so much pain. He gathered the girl in his arms, tucking her head against his chest and wrapping her exposed body in her bloodied blanket. A blanket he recognised from that awful Halloween night.

Whilst his employer had restrained the muggles, Albus endeavoured to take the girl to Hogwarts, to the hospital wing where she would have the dignity and respect she deserved in death. The Ministry could be alerted tomorrow and the muggles could be dealt with then. For now, there was a little girl who deserved comfort in death.

Later that night, whilst Severus Snape kept vigil at her side, Violet opened her eyes. She looked around the bright room, white and clean and with so much space, and smiled.

AN: Hey guys, this is my first attempt to write fanfiction in a looonnnggg time, so try to be nice? (Unfortunately, all my previous attempts at fanfiction will not be un-abandoned, as I have no interest in trying to salvage ideas and muses from years ago). I've just finished my Bachelor's degree so I have more free time than I've had in years. I thought I'd take up writing again. Let me know what you think!

Preview for the next chapter -

To say Severus Snape was surprised was an understatement. Whilst he had been keeping vigil beside Lily's daughter, begging forgiveness from a distant memory, Severus Snape had watched something truly miraculous. Bright green eyes, her Mother's eyes, Snape thought, opened wide and a smile had lit up the girl's face. Struggling to sit up with her body so damaged, the girl looked around with unbridled curiosity. Turning toward him, Violet looked momentarily confused. Then, in a quiet and lilting voice, she asked, 'Are you Death?'

As stated previously, to say Severus Snape was surprised was an understatement.