There were two children that night: Harry and his older half sister. But who is the Chosen One?

It wasn't widely known that James Potter had a daughter.

He had been young and foolish when he met a young veela by the name of Marie Chevalier. He had been distraught after another failed year of getting the gorgeous Lily Evans to be his and had taken comfort in the stunning veela. Of course, luck wasn't on his side and she had fallen pregnant (well, they hadn't really been able to stop once James discovered the joys of sex) and Marie had been forced to return home and had given birth to their daughter in France as James returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year.

It had been years later when he found out about his daughter, the adorable quarter veela who had been named Dominique.

Marie had been killed returning to England, trying to get her daughter to safety as Death Eaters attacked. James had been stunned when Dumbledore handed over the terrified seven year old but had melted at the sight of the miniature Marie. She may not be Lily's daughter, but she was his daughter.

Dominique instantly trusted James, recognising him from the pictures her Mama had shown her. Lily, on the other hand, was the first enemy Dominique had come across in her young life. The red haired woman hated the blonde girl with a passion, seeing her as competition for James' affection after finally sucumbing to James' charm three years ago. Dominique returned the hate, knowing her papa wanted her to replace her Mama. Something that would NEVER happen.

James, Lily and Dominique eventually fell into a routine which faltered when Lily tearfully announced she was pregnant. Everyone was happy that the couple were having a proper child, none of them realising Dominique could hear them. The Order didn't like Dominique. She wasn't James and Lily's daughter, she wasn't the Golden Couple's daughter, and they all hated the constant reminder that James Potter wasn't perfect.

Eventually, Harry James Potter was born and Dominique loved her younger half brother. The pair were complete opposites; Dominique being fair and blonde with Harry being tanned and dark, and then there were Dominique's veela genes.

Harry grew up quickly and Dominique turned eight, loving her brother more and more - ignoring the technical half in front of brother - whilst James and Lily neglected Dominique more and more. At first, she thought that it was just because Harry was a newborn and needed more attention but she knew that they paid him more attention because he was theirs, whilst Dominique was James and some 'blonde whores' veela kid.

And then... Voldemort came and Dominique was pushed aside in favour of looking after her famous brother. Harry was the one to receive almost daily piles of presents and was fed more than he weighed. However spoilt he became, Harry still cared for his older sister and was distraught when she was sent to live in France with her Aunt just before her eleventh birthday. Eventually, Harry grew to dislike his sister, the girl who wasn't his real sister.

Dominique attended Beauxbatons and received her magical education, all the time growing to hate her so called family. As soon as she graduated, Dominique Potter left the Wizarding World.

And Dominique Chevalier entered the Muggle World.

"So the prophecy you spent all my life preparing me for... Wasn't for me!" Harry Potter was angry. He had spent most of his life training to kill Voldemort only to be told, by the monster himself, that it wasn't him who was in the prophecy, but instead his half sister Dominique.

Dominique.

Dominique.

Dominique Potter, the pretty little veela who had been the only one to treat him like an ordinary person but at the same time was one of Harry's main annoyances. Firstly, she was the eldest Potter child. Secondly, he saw the glances their father sent her when he thought he wasn't looking. And lastly, she was a pureblood. She had more rights than him, even if she was considered a half breed for her veela blood.

"Harry, my boy..." Dumbledore began, looking at Harry through his glasses from where he was sat at the head of the long table. Dumbledore never once considered Dominique to be the Chosen One. She was a pureblood and Voldemort would never go for her when he could go for the boy who was like him. And then there was the obvious fact that she was a girl. "Whilst you may not be the one to kill him, you are still a very important part in the downfall of Voldemort." He continued, ignoring the winces coming from almost everyone in the room.

"Well, yeah, but he's not the Chosen One, is he?" Everyone turned to look at Ron Weasley who was looking confused. Hermione Granger kicked him under the table as she noticed the angry expression on their best friend's face.

"He must be!" Lily Potter argued, her red hair matching the redness around her eyes and her cheeks.

"Lily, calm down." James Potter placed an arm around his wife in an attempt to comfort her. His face was pale and in, what seemed like, a permanent expression of shock. His dark hair was even mesiser than usual, clear that he had been running his hands through it. Sirius Black was on his other side, arms crossed and directing a glare at Dumbledore at the head of the table.

"I am certain, Lily, that young Harry is most definitely not the Chosen One. The prophecy spoke of a she." Dumbledore said and no one said anything, looking at their leader who looked older than they had ever seen him.

"So what now?" It was James who broke the uncomfortable silence. His hands were slightly shaking as he looked up at Dumbledore who got to his feet, looking straight at James.

"We find her." He says and the Order immediately start tracking down, the now twenty three year old, Dominique Potter, not knowing what they would find.

*Break*

"He was found yesterday." Detective Inspector Lestrade said as he walked through an old house which was on the brink of collapse. "Some kids came in as a dare and found him upstairs." He added, leading Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson up the stairs.

Sherlock's eyes flickered from side to side, taking note of every small detail around him as John followed behind with his eyes straight ahead. All three enter the now empty crime scene which was an empty room, except for the tall figure which was sprawled out in the middle of the room. Sherlock kneeled down beside him, John opposite him, and let his eyes look him up and down.

"There's no marks to show violence, or a struggle." John said as he lightly touched the body, looking for anything which would be helpful.

"He came here willingly." Sherlock said quietly, standing up and earning the attention of the other two men in the world. "Look at the dust on the floor." He said and they all looked at the dusty floor which was covered in foot prints. "He was stood... Here." He said, standing where the man had apparently been stood. "He walked forwards." Walking forwards, Sherlock's mind raced to figure out what had happened. "He stopped. Kneeled." His eyes narrowed down at the body at his feet. "There were many people here. He was just one of many." Sherlock deducted and Lestrade's eyes widened.

"A gang?" He asked and Sherlock shook his head, looking closely at the man.

"No... Not in the way that you think." He said, kneeling down and leaning over the body as John and Lestrade watched. Suddenly, he quickly pulled up the sleeve of the long sleeved black shirt the dead man was wearing. The other two men jumped at the sight in front of them; on the long pale arm was a pitch black tattoo of a skull with a snake like tongue. Sherlock moved back slightly until he was with the other two men as the snake moved out, as though it could present a danger to the three men.

"But that's impossible..." Lestrade gasped and Sherlock stood up, looking down at the body with a blank expression which John couldn't decipher.

"John... Fetch Dominique."