It wasn't easy being Harry Potter's younger sister. He was the Boy Who Lived after all, not that the Dursley's ever cared much who either of us were. To the wizarding world my older brother was their savior who had lifted them out of the dark days of Lord Voldemort at just a year old. And me? Well, I was simply Harry's unfortunate baby sister who'd lost her parents at just two months old.

A year ago we learned of our magical abilities, and a year ago my brother left me to start his education at Hogwarts. I was left with the Dursley's reprimands and harsh nature, my only source of comfort being the letters my brother would send me to tell me about his adventures at school. I could hardly wait to join him and make friends of my own. More than that, I couldn't wait to get away from the Dursley's and to finally understand the world from which my parents had come. After a long wait I would finally be joining him. And at last it had arrived, a letter addressed to me, Marlene Potter.