Epilogue
The dark city was illuminated by the dim glow of streetlights. Sitting cross-legged on the worn white couch, I took a sip of my coffee, tasting nothing but bitterness. I sighed, my gaze fixed on the bustling streets of London. This was my last night at home before leaving for Hogwarts.
Casually, I glanced to my side and found a photo of Harry and me. A nostalgic smile crept onto my lips. The picture had been taken four months ago at the Hogsmeade train station. We were hugging, laughing—two kids who had just found each other. I picked up the frame, bringing it closer. It was placed beside another photo—one of our parents. Unlike the wizarding photo, this one was still. A modified image, altered to appear like a regular Muggle photograph. That picture was one of my most treasured possessions.
I had grown up almost entirely on my own, in LA, California, in the United States. Raised by my aunt Jholene, we lived in a tiny flat where the sun was always shining. I went to school like any other kid, spent summers at the beach, made friends. Despite the fact that Jholene was rarely home and most of my meals came from a microwave, life had been... good.
She was like a ghost. The older I got, the more absent she became. She had short, caramel-brown hair that complemented her light brown eyes. Wrinkles had begun to show on her face, though she covered them with layers of makeup. Our relationship was never close, but she was my whole world. She, our tiny home, my empty room, and our simple life—that was everything to me.
Until the day a tall, broad man appeared at our front door.
That day, Jholene had skipped work. When the man arrived, she looked relieved. She cupped my cheek, pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, and disappeared into my room. Moments later, she emerged carrying a large suitcase—one that she had packed behind my back.
I was confused. The man, his expression calm yet firm, began explaining everything. The wizarding world. Magic. Voldemort. And most importantly, who I really was. I was in shock.
Apparently, after Voldemort's fall, Dumbledore had made the decision to separate Harry and me at birth. It was for our protection—at least until we were old enough to attend Hogwarts.
Following the spell my mother had cast, Harry was sent to live with the Dursleys, the only family she had left. I, on the other hand, had been sent to live with a distant relative of my father—Jholene. The Dursleys had only agreed to take one child, and because Harry was in greater danger, he had to stay closer to the wizarding world.
The truth hit me like a bucket of cold water. But what struck me even harder was the reality that awaited me—I was never going back to LA.
Now that I was old enough for Hogwarts, Jholene's responsibility to Dumbledore was over. She had agreed to care for me only until I was ready for school, and she had fulfilled that promise. After that day, I never saw her again. My last memory of her was watching her lean against the doorframe, waving slowly, her expression indifferent.
She wasn't going to miss me. I knew that. And in that moment, I understood everything.
The only bright side was Harry.
A few days after arriving in London, it was time to go to Hogwarts.
I remember standing at King's Cross Station, clutching Hagrid's massive hand while he carried my luggage in the other. Near one of the pillars stood a short, skinny boy with glasses. He had big green eyes—the same as mine.
I looked up at Hagrid. "Is that him?"
He nodded silently before calling out his name. "Harry!"
That was the first time I heard it.
The boy turned, eyes wide, and before I could say anything, he ran toward us.
"Harry, this is your twin sister I was telling you about," Hagrid said.
His eyes grew even wider. Slowly, a smile broke across his face.
I was nervous, but at the same time, overwhelmingly relieved. After years of feeling empty, I finally knew—I wasn't alone. I had someone. This familiar feeling, this love... it was what we had both been waiting for. And in that instant, we knew it.
We hugged. And the rest was history.
On the train, we sat together, unable to stop talking. It was as if we had always known each other. We talked about everything—our parents, where we had lived, our Muggle schools. Everything.
Then, a red-haired boy interrupted us—Ron. Later, a girl named Hermione joined.
Everything seemed to be falling into place—until the Sorting.
On the train, Ron had mentioned that Slytherin was a dark house, that every witch or wizard who had gone bad had come from there. That terrified me. And especially Harry. Gryffindor was the safest option.
Harry was sorted first. After him, it was my turn. I was trusted that I will get to be in Gryffindor same as him, if he was there, I was meant to be part of it too.
The Sorting Hat sat on my head, humming thoughtfully.
"Your brother was uneasy, but with you, I see it clearly... Sharp mind, unshakable will—oh yes, you are a leader. Not one to follow rules, but to rewrite them. You crave control, not chaos. Not just bravery, but strategy. You could do well in Gryffindor... but you would thrive in Slytherin."
"No. Put me in Gryffindor," I said quickly, my heart pounding.
"Why? To stay by your brother's side? The Boy Who Lived... You are not his shadow. You were made for more."
I clenched my fists, but before I could protest—
"SLYTHERIN!"
My face went pale. I took a deep breath and stood up, walking toward the clapping Slytherin table without glancing at Harry or Gryffindor's side. I slid into the first empty seat I found—next to a blonde boy and a brunette girl.
The boy immediately turned to me, eyes sharp with fierce curiosity. "You're Potter's twin, right?"
"Yes, I am," I said firmly, a subtle edge of defense in my tone.
He smirked. "My father told me all about your brother. You, however, were barely mentioned."
I frowned slightly, unsure whether to be insulted or intrigued.
Straightening, he extended a hand. "My name is Draco. Draco Malfoy."
I didn't take it just yet.
"I believe you'll find Slytherin... different from what you're used to," he continued.
I raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you think I'm used to?"
Draco smirked. "Being in your brother's shadow."
My jaw tightened, but I didn't look away.
"Luckily for you," he went on smoothly, "that won't be a problem here—if you make the right friends."
I met his gaze evenly. "I just found out I have a brother today, so being someone's shadow is neither in my past nor in my future."
Draco's smirk flickered before settling into something more satisfied. "Is that so? Well, that makes things even more interesting." He leaned in slightly. "You may not have been in his shadow before, but trust me—everyone will expect you to be now. Unless, of course, you prove them wrong."
I held his stare, my chin lifting slightly. "I intend to."
Draco studied me for a moment, then, as if coming to a decision, extended his hand again. This time, I clasped it firmly.
"Meaver. Meaver Potter."
His smirk deepened as he shook my hand. "Then welcome to Slytherin, Potter. Let's see what you're really made of."
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Author's note
Omg, hi. My first language isn't english so I hope everything is alright. This story is actually my shifting script, I never shifted so 🙁 I will be sharing it because I believe it's quite interesting.
I will be updating constantly. This was like an introduction for all the story btw
PD: I asked chat gpt for the title 😪😪