Krystal's PoV

Lately, my nightmares have been haunting me more than usual.

Almost every night, when I'm asleep in my camp bed and listening to the ghoul's moans, I dream about the night my parents died.

I was only two years old, but yet I remember it clearly…

The night wet and windy, two children dressed as pumpkins waddling across the square, and the shop windows covered in paper spiders, all the tawdry Muggle trappings of a world in which they did not believe… And he was gliding along, that sense of purpose and power and rightness in him that he always knew on these occasions… Not anger… that was for the weaker souls than he… but triumph, yes… He had waited for this, he had hoped for it…

"Nice costume, mister!"

He saw the small boy's smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the cloak, saw fear cloud his painted face: Then the child turned and ran away… Beneath the robe he fingered the handle of his wand… One simple movement and the child would never reach his mother… but unnecessary, quite unnecessary…

And along a new and darker street he moved, and now his destination was in sight at last, the Fidelius Charm broken, though they did not know it yet… And he made less noise than the dead leaves slithering along the pavement as he drew level with the dark hedge, and stared over it…

They had not yet drawn the curtains; he saw them quite clearly in their little sitting room, the tall black-haired man in his classes, making puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of the two small children, a small black-haired boy in his blue pajama's, and a red-haired girl in her green. The children were laughing, and trying to catch the smoke, to grab it in their small fists…

A door opened and the mother entered, saying words he could not hear, her long dark-red hair, so like her daughter's, falling over her face. Now the father scooped up the daughter and handed him to the mother, the son slowly walking to her. He threw his wand down upon the sofa and stretched, yawning…

The gate creaked a little as he pushed it open, but James Potter did not hear. His white hand pulled the wand beneath his cloak and pointed it at the door, which burst open.

He was over the threshold as James came sprinting into the hall. It was easy, too easy, he had not even picked up his wand…

"Lily, take Harry and Krystal and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Hold him off, without a wand in his hand!… He laughed before casting the curse…

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glare like lightening rods, before James Potter fell like a marionette whose strings were cut…

He could hear her screaming from the upper floor, trapped, but as long as she was sensible, she, at least, had nothing to fear… He climbed the steps, listening with faint amusement to her attempts to barricade herself in… She had no wand upon her either… How stupid they were, and how trusting, thinking that their safety lay in friends, that weapons could be discarded even for moments…

He forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand… And there she stood, the girl in her arms, and the boy holding onto her pant leg. At the sight of him, she dropped her daughter into the crib, picked up her son, and deposited him there also, and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding him from sight she hoped to be chosen instead…

"Not Harry, not Krystal, please not the children!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now."

"Not the twins, please no, take me, kill me instead –"

"This is my last warning –"

"Not the twins! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Krystal! Please – I'll do anything –"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

He could have forced her away from the crib, but it seemed more prudent to finish them all…

The green light flashed around the room and she dropped like her husband. The children had not cried all this time: They could stand, and they looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest, perhaps thinking that it was their father who hid beneath the cloak, making more pretty lights, and their mother would pop up any moment, laughing –

He pointed the wand very carefully into the twin's faces: He wanted to see it happy, the destruction of these two, inexplicable dangers. The children began to cry: They had seen that he was not James. He did not like the crying, he had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage –

"Avada Kedavra!"

And then he broke: He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and he must hide himself, not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the twin's were trapped and screaming, but far away… far away…

I do not remember exactly how I was found, but I do know that my brother and I survived the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra, when we were both two.

Harry and I are fraternal twins, you see. Same birthday, but we don't look a lot alike.

We are the only ones in history who have ever done so! But, my family tells me that Harry was so sickly that he died a few days later.

So now, I'm alone.

Well, not really, seeing as how I have seven siblings. Not real sibling, but adoptive siblings. Eh, I'll just get to the point.

Hello. I'm Krystal Weasley.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Well, I don't really know if this is a bad or a good beginning. I have had this idea burning in my mind for a while, so I finally decided to do it!

The flashback is, yes, almost the same one from the seventh book, The Deathly Hallows. I changed the part about the children, so that it was Harry and Krystal…

So, anyways, review please, and I'll update when I can!

~4Eva