"I'm gonna buy this place and burn it to the ground. I'm gonna put it six feet underground."
-A Rush of Blood to the Head, Coldplay
I like to think of myself as different. Different in the sense that I have no taste for the fame or the glory. Different in the sense that I don't like who people think I am. There. I said it. I basically said that I don't like myself. Myself. Now, there's a silly concept. Do I have a self? Do I have anything besides what I've been made out to be?
I'm confused. My life is confusing. See, there's the little problem of fame.
FAME. False. Awful. Malicious. Empty.
My dad, my one and only dad, is practically the most famous wizard of all time. He's Harry Potter. You've probably heard of him.
In some ways, I think he hates the fame as much as I do. But for some reason, he manages it. He manages to be a good dad, husband, and auror as well as going to interviews and book signings and being nice to his adoring fans. For some odd reason, this infuriates me. He, the most famous wizard, like ever, can deal with it all when I, his unimportant daughter, cannot. It makes me feel inadequate. It makes me feel weak. But most of all, it makes me feel unecessary. I was named after people who are better, kinder and braver than myself. I bear the moniker of a different generation. I was dragged forcibly into the past the very day I was born and named.
I cannot be who I want to be when I am who I am.
And I think that's all I'm going to write for now.
Lily
This is a rewrite of my original story The Diary of Lily Luna Potter. Obviously, it's far more mature than my previous story. I hope all of you who did enjoy my previous version will enjoy this all well.
Cheers.