I still remember Lily and James. They were my good friends, my best friends, as well as the other Marauders. I remember them in life…and death.

I'm Raven Floorboard. I'm a borrower, one who borrows things they need from humans (we don't give them back, but we call it borrowing). I am also a half-blood witch and an unofficial member of the Order of the Phoenix. I used to live at Hogwarts. But that was so long ago, and I was so young then.

I don't remember much before learning to borrow. My father taught me at the very young age of four. Around that time, my mum died and dad brought me to Hogwarts.

I was about three and a half inches tall at the time. Borrowers are small compared to humans and never exceed six inches tall. As I mentioned earlier, my dad taught me to borrow, and I became very good at it by the age of four and a half. That's a very early age to be borrowing.

One day, dad went out borrowing for food for dinner. I waited for him for hours; he didn't come back. I waited longer, but he never turned up.

By morning, it was clear that he wasn't coming back.

I tucked myself into my bed under the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room, realizing that when I woke up, I would be alone. I'd have to take care of myself.

Over the next three years, I grew another inch and borrowed what I needed from the Common Room and the Kitchen.

I was caught borrowing one day by a group of seventh-year students who called themselves the Marauders. Specifically, the one named Sirius trapped me in a jar. The boys joked around, but the girl who hung out with them, Lily, pitied me. She insisted they bring me to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore seemed amazed at the sight of me and told the one named James to let me out. Dumbledore seemed to be trusted, so when asked, I told them about my father. I even showed them my father's borrowing bag, which could hold more than it seemed to. I demonstrated by pulling a long pencil from it.

Dumbledore deduced that the only way that the bag could be under an Undetectable Extension Charm was if one of my parents was a witch or wizard. And since it was my father's bag, we guesstimated that it was him. Therefore, it could be assumed that I was a witch.

The Marauders and I became the best of friends, even though they were humans and I was a borrower. I especially grew close to Lily and James.

After they graduated, Lily took me to Diagon Alley to buy me a wand. Olivander, the wand seller, smiled when he saw me in Lily's hand. He told me he remembered my father sneaking in to buy a wand. "Pine, unicorn hair," he muttered.

After a long process of Olivander choosing wands, Lily shrinking them, me waving them, and Olivander taking them and changing them back, I was chosen by a jet-black wand made from yew wood with a phoenix feather core. "A very powerful wand. I predict talent and excellence from you," Olivander told me with a smile.

James bought me something as well. He got me a Firebolt so I wouldn't be limited by the ground.

James proposed to Lily not long after, and I moved into their house with them. They were fully aware of my habits as a borrower and didn't mind at all.

The former Marauders joined the Order of the Phoenix to fight against the rising Dark Lord. I joined, too; I wanted to help as much as I could to fight against Voldemort.

Almost a decade passed, and I turned seventeen in August. Lily had just had a son, whom she and James named Harry. They made Sirius Black, one of James' best friends, Harry's godfather.

In October a year later, Lily and James realized that they were marked for death by the Dark Lord. The original intention was that Sirius and I would be their Secret Keepers, but at the last minute Sirius suggested Peter Pettigrew.

It was Halloween night. Outside, muggle children shrieked in fear and laughter.

Midnight was nearing, and Lily was upstairs with Harry and James was downstairs with me, experimenting.

James had been working on an Ageless Charm for weeks, and had come up with a breakthrough. I volunteered myself as someone he'd tested on. His charm turned out successful, meaning that I didn't blow up.

I was made ageless that night, but not invulnerable.

James was greatly excited about the success of his project, and ran up the stairs to tell Lily.

I remember smiling, preparing myself to jump off of the table on which I stood. Before I could, the door behind me opened. I turned, looking at a wizard in a dark hooded cloak. I knew immediately who it was.

With a flick of his wand, he trashed the entire downstairs. I was sent flying into the wall. The intruder began to ascent the stairs slowly, savoring his moment of victory.

I'd lost my wand, but I quickly apparated to the upstairs nursery, where James and Lily were playing with Harry.

"James! Lily!" I called. I warned them that the Dark Lord was here and would be there any—

I never finished my sentence. The door burst open, and James drew his wand while Lily shielded Harry.

James threw spell after spell at Voldemort, pushing him outside the room. As they exchanged spells, walls were being blown open and pictures were being shattered. "Close the door! Keep Harry safe!" James yelled over the commotion. Lily quickly closed and locked the door, gripping Harry close to her chest.

She and I shrieked in horror as we heard the Dark Lord utter the most evil curse and saw a green light flash from the crack under the door. Lily turned around, putting herself between Harry and the door, which exploded open. I was thrown to the floor by the blast, and Lily screamed in terror. One of Harry's heavy toys landed on my legs, pinning me. I tried pushing it off, but it was no use.

I can't even begin to describe what it was like to watch Voldemort kill Lily.

Voldemort turned to Harry, who had fallen out of Lily's grasp.

"No," I whispered.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The spell looked like it hit Harry, but it literally bounced off him, sending a shock wave through the room. Voldemort got the full blast of the spell, and his seeming lifeless body was sent crashing through the dry wall behind him. The toy was knocked off of me, and I slid, gently colliding with the only wall still standing.

A ghostly mist rose from Voldemort's chest, and a faint noise, like the hissing of a snake, filled the room as it diffused.

I struggled to my feet, rushing up to young Harry to make sure he was okay.

It turned out he had been touched by the curse, but only touched. A thin scar had formed on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt.

The child looked down at me, smiling as though he knew I was his friend.

"I'll be right back," I assured him. I dissapparated to the living room, quickly recovering my wand and apparated back.

During James and Voldemort's duel, several walls had been blasted, if not collapsed. Three of the nursery's walls had been destroyed, leaving nothing to support the ceiling. It was bending menacingly low, and it split, giving way.

I raised my wand, screaming "Protego!" a small shield formed around me and Harry.

I salvaged what I could from the wreckage while Harry fiddled with pieces of dry wall. I stuffed what I could find into my father's bag.

It was risky, but I took Harry by the hand and apparated with him to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry promptly spit up the formula Lily had given him earlier.

Fighting tears at the thought of Lily, I flicked my wand conjuring up a cloth that wiped his face clean.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that we were several human paces away from the door. And Harry couldn't walk yet.

"Come on, Harry," I said, starting toward the door. The infant giggled, reaching for me as if I was a toy. I dodged his grasp, sighing. This wasn't going to work. I turned toward the door.

"Help!" I yelled. "Sirius! Somebody! Anybody! It's me, Raven!"

Sirius swung open the door. He looked around first, then down at me.

"Raven, what in Merlin's name are you doing at this time of night?"—he looked at Harry—"And with Harry?" He squatted down, lifting the one-year-old in his right arm. He looked down at me, his expression demanding an answer.

My throat closed in grief. I took in a shaky breath.

Sirius' expression softened. "Oh, no," he muttered. "Raven…where are James and Lily?"

I couldn't bear it any longer. I crumpled to my knees, sobbing.

Sirius gently picked me up with his left hand, carrying Harry in his right arm. He brought us inside.

Once I'd regained my composure, I told Sirius everything.

He immediately sent owls to Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall. They arrived shortly after.

Sirius ran off, leaving Dumblecore and the others to decide what to do with the boy.

"It had to be Pettigrew!" Sirius had pulled me into one of the upstairs rooms to explain. "No one other than you could've known where they were! I swear on their graves, I'll find the bastard and make him pay! He'll regret this!"

There was no stopping him.

Dumbledore and McGonagall left to search for Harry's only remaining blood family since Sirius was now out of the picture. Hagrid left to buy a few things, leaving me alone, other than Kreacher who was sulking in the attic, dusting.

I stayed by young Harry's side, comforted him when he cried for his mother, charming a spoon to feed him cream, and wrapped him in a blanket I'd saved from back at Godric's Hollow.

I kept the radio on, hoping it would bring comfort. The Dark Lord's defeat spread faster than I thought possible, because news of celebration throughout the wizarding world echoed through the house. A news flash occurred just before dawn that caught my attention. It said that Sirius Black had been arrested for the murder of a dozen muggles and Peter Pettigrew and sent to Azkaban. 'I knew he'd kill Pettigrew, but there's no way the Sirius I know would murder any muggles. He must've been framed,' I thought angrily.

The day wore on, and Hagrid and I hadn't heard from McGonagall or Dumbledore. Finally, around dusk, an owl came from Dumbledore. It read:

Found a place where the boy can be
raised safely.

Please bring him as soon as possible
to Number 4 Privet Drive, Little
Winging, Surrey.

Albus Dumbledore

Hagrid helped me get young Harry in the basket he'd bought. We borrowed Sirius' flying motorcycle, and I sat in the basket with Harry during the flight. Sitting cross-legged next to the infant's head, I gently traced his scar with my finger as he drifted to sleep. All I could think about was how, like his parents, he'd be legend, the most famous wizard of the age.

Hagrid and I met up with the professors. Dumbledore took the basket from Hagrid, and he set it, with Harry and me in it, on the front step of Number 4. I was very reluctant to leave Harry. He was like my family, as James and Lily were.

"Raven," Dumbledore began. I looked up at him, tears of sentimentality and grief slowly forming and stinging my eyes. He knelt down, holding a letter in one hand

"I want you to stay with the boy. I will send an owl the first of every month, and I want you to report to me if anything goes wrong. Can you do that for me?"

A large lump formed in my throat, constricting my speech, so I nodded in response.

Dumbledore smiled. "Good. Now, about the muggle family that lives here, the Dursleys. It's best not to show yourself to them, unless it is of the utmost importance. You may reveal yourself to Harry when you feel he is ready. But be wary of the Dursleys. Keep him safe."

I unearthed my voice. "I will, professor."

He laid the letter in Harry's blankets, and he and the others left. I wiped away a tear that was rolling down my cheek. I drew my wand and cast a disillusionment charm over myself to hide, temporarily, from any muggle's eyes.

I followed Harry's lead, falling asleep in the basket. I was now entrusted with a mission: watch over the Boy who Lived.