Identical: Prologue

I was born into a pure-blooded magical family during a war that consumed the magical world.

My family wasn't particularly affected by it though; Mother was the perfect example of a Slytherin, and my father never made any sign of being against the Dark Lord, though I think on some level that was so he could keep him and his family safe from Death-Eaters. Back when they were a problem, anyway.

It was something I never used to complain about until a few years ago.

I was always the odd one of my family, though they all tried to pay no attention to it. However, trouble and mischief always seemed to find me when I was about five, not that I ever made it particularly hard for it to do so. While my mother loathed the idea of one of her daughters being anything other than perfect, my sister, my twin, never seemed to mind back then; on the contrary, she used to find it entertaining. Sometimes I wondered if she enjoyed seeing me being reprimanded for situations I couldn't control.

After all, it was my magic that often caused the trouble, and everyone knew that young children didn't exactly have full control over it yet. My magic was still developing, and I was trying to figure it out. Then again, my sister was the same, and she didn't have nearly as many run-ins with mischief.

When it became clear that a few minutes sitting alone in a corner was doing nothing to stop the mischief from finding me after I'd accidentally turned her hair blue, my mother made it her goal in life to squash that side of me before I entered Hogwarts. It was something both she and I had thought she had succeeded in doing. My mother was a scary woman, to say the least. Even her physical appearance was scary, though she was still nothing compared to good ol' Bellatrix Lestrange. But then again, I didn't know the Lestranges, or even the Malfoys back then.

My mother was a tall woman, freakishly so, with long, straight hair as black as night, and wild green eyes hidden under her scariest feature: her eyebrows. Laugh now, but if you saw them, you'd notice that they gave the impression that the woman was always angry, not that that was very far from the truth.

Now, if you knew my mother, you'd know that her being angry is something you should be scared of. My father and sister would agree that my mother was scary, it's the reason my sister always acted exactly the way my parents wanted her to, and the reason my father always let the woman have her way, never saying a word about something he didn't agree with. I tried to get on my mother's good side, but always failed miserably. There was always something about me that was reason enough for me to become her favorite target.

That's why I gave up on acting 'perfect' sometime during the year I started at Hogwarts, also known as the year I met Fred and George Weasley. They were the ones to help me realize that being myself wasn't actually a bad thing, as my mother had taught me.

Possibly one of my favorite things about my mother is her name: Aspasia. A Greek name meaning 'welcome'. I smile at the irony every time I think about it. Those brilliantly intimidating eyebrows, penetrating gaze, and flat out horrible personality would make you feel anything but welcome.

My father, Cadmon, was a quiet man. Shorter than my mother, with short blonde hair that always was cropped perfectly to the point it was creepy, and blue eyes that were always glassy, like he never paid attention to his surroundings. He was more likely to ignore my entire family altogether than reprimand me unless my mother would tell him to. He only started paying attention sometime during my first year at Hogwarts, after I had made friends with the Weasley Twins when I was named the first Gryffindor in the Nymphea family.

I'm not quite sure why he minded my being a Gryffindor so much, actually, as he wasn't in Slytherin either back in his school days. He never did tell us what house he was in, though. I doubt it was Gryffindor, otherwise he might have been courageous enough to suggest actually decent names for my sister and me when Mother was pregnant with us.

She wanted to name us after Greek words she liked. She thought, since her name was Greek as well, that they would be unique. Apparently, she didn't think too much about whether or not we'd like the names. Part of me blames my father for allowing her to name us these particular names, but in his defense, he'd have been arguing with the hormones of an already scary woman who was pregnant with twins.

We probably wouldn't mind the Greek names if they had at least meant something cool, but the names she came up with were simply descriptions - adjectives, really. Supposedly I'm 'flower-like'. I personally find it insulting.

At least my sister's name was dead on: Chrysilla, 'golden-haired'.

We inherited our father's hair and eye colour. Our hair was about the same length as my mother's at that point in our lives, down to the middle of our backs, with fringes that went straight across our foreheads. The only difference in eye colour we had with our father was simply the fact that ours weren't glassy, and instead they sparkled with the same innocence you could find in almost any child. Well, Chrysilla's did, anyway. I've been told my eyes were pretty dull by the time I reached Hogwarts, thanks to my mother. She used to say the sparkle in my eyes meant mischief, so I reckon on some level, I decided to get rid of it somehow.

Without knowing us, you'd think we were just like any other pair of twins, at first it was a little true - we were inseparable to the age of eleven, when everything in my life changed. For the better, mind.

Oh, so you've noticed I still haven't told you my name. Some people have told me they think it's 'cool', but I personally hate it because of the meaning alone. 'Flower-like'… Honestly. I like to think I'm not 'flower-like' at all.

My name is Anthea, but please just call me Anna. Everybody does, other than the members of my family anyway. Chrys (the nickname my sister adopted) called me Anna at Hogwarts like everyone else, and I called her Chrys, but we wouldn't dare use our nicknames around Mother. She would always go mental and start going on about how ungrateful we were for the names she'd given us any time we made that mistake.

I've chosen the day Chrys and I boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time as a place to start the story I'll be telling, because it just so happens to be the day my life took an unsuspected (and completely appreciated) turn for the better. It happens to be the day that I really realised that our appearance was the only thing I had in common with my sister, but you'll find out about the differences when I start the story, I'm sure, so without further ado, let's begin.

A/N: I'm sure you've noticed that I don't go about explaining the rest of the family as I do her mother. It's because of the fact that her father isn't as important to Anna's background as her mother is, as he ignores basically everything around him. And Chrysilla is a main character in the story, so she appears frequently and is described almost fully in the next few chapters. I took this chance to describe the mother now because of the importance to how Anna acts at the beginning, and the fact that you don't see the parents at all in Hogwarts.