Potter Manor
James woke up at age four with a memory of a previous life. He remembered a younger bratty sister, a loving but harsh mother, and two best friends around whom his life revolved around. He woke with tears in his eyes and longing in his heart.
He didn't remember how it ended nor how it began, but he had lived another life. A life completely different from this. A life, he realized with dawning horror, that he shouldn't remember. He calmed himself before opening his eyes to the two familiar shapes of what he now realized were his parents. They didn't stay up day and night for him, but they were by his side at an instant whenever he couldn't sleep, when he had nameless nightmares, when he cried tears of grief for someone he could no longer recognize. Who were the two people that came in his dreams and nightmares so often? Who seemed to haunt every step of the way? Who were these two girls who he never seemed to part with?
...girls? He...was a female too, wasn't he? In his past life, he had been a female too, and yet it barely even bothered him when he thought of himself as male. He used to hate being female because of...blood?
He flinched at a memory of an unfamiliar yet familiar voice screaming.
His hands shook with fear, and his mind shied away from the memory. He didn't need to know that. No. He shouldn't know that.
Even when his parents tried to comfort him into sleep, he couldn't shake the bone deep fear that had rooted inside him. He didn't want to know who it was.
But how could he help without knowing who it was? He should know, shouldn't he? That could be one of his friends. Someone needed his help, didn't they? He should help when they needed it, shouldn't he? But then, why couldn't he shake this fear off? Why didn't he want to remember? Why did he hate himself so much because he couldn't make himself remember?
There was someone.
Someone who needed him.
Someone who he couldn't help.
Who was it...?