DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you recognize. The lyrics are Memory and it's from the musical Cats...

XoXo

Daylight, see the dew on the sunflower and a rose that is fading. Roses whither away like the sunflower. I yearn to turn my face to the dawn. I am waiting for that day.

Lily Potter turned to Lysander Scamander, a smile on her pretty face and her blue eyes lighting up her cheeks. She had her hand entwined with his and was leading him towards the lake, her mind swirling with things to tell him. But then she saw something that killed her mood. There was a rose dying on the ground. A sweet, soft rose that was now trampled on and no longer beautiful. What if that happened to her? What if everything she worked towards was dead within the blink of an eye?

"What's wrong?" Lysander asked, squeezing her hand and smiling down at her, his deep voice enveloping her like a warm blanket.

"What?" she answered with another question, uncharacteristic seriousness creeping into her voice. "Oh. Look at the rose. Someone tossed it there and killed it." Lysander nodded and picked it up, holding it out to Lily. She took it silently and then turned to the churning gray skies above her. "Why is there never any sun? It would feel nice right now."

She shivered as she thought it and Lysander wrapped her in his arms. "Don't worry. It'll warm up soon. Now why did you bring me down here?" he asked, reminding her of her big mission.

Midnight, not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone in the lamplight. The withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan.

Lily woke up, blinking blearily in the moonlight that was streaming through the window behind her bed. She rolled over and rubbed her eyes, seeing if anyone else was awake. There was Dominique sleeping soundly and Alice also, but there was no one that was actually awake. The moon was shining silvery light and was forcing Lily to blink rapidly. She was about to fall back asleep when she saw something that forced her to get up.

She slipped from her bed and whispered down the stairs, her silent footfalls not even stirring a mouse. She peeped around the corner of the common room and saw no one there. Lily continued down the hallways, sneaking around and trying not to get caught. And then she saw it, her cousin crying. The moon was smiling down on her and leaves that had fallen from trees were scraping along the pavement and gathering at Rose's feet.

"Are you all right?" Lily asked, making Rose jump off the bench and onto her feet. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just—I mean, I'm sorry."

"No. It's fine. I was just going up to bed," Rose said thickly, trying to disguise her tear stained cheeks.

"Don't worry," Lily said quietly as Rose pushed past her. "The moon won't let the wind tell anyone your secrets." Rose looked back at Lily as the wind moaned in their ears and smiled tentatively.

Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can smile at the old days. I was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was let the memory live again. Every streetlamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning. Someone mutters and the streetlamp gutters and soon it will be morning. Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise. I must think of a new life and I musn't give in when the dawn comes. Tonight will be a memory too and a new day will begin. Burn out ends of smoky days the stale cold smell of morning. The streetlamp dies, another night is over another day is dawning. Touch me. It's so easy to leave me all alone with the memory of my days in the sun. IF you touch me, You'll understand what happiness is. Look a new day has begun.

Lily watched as the sun ducked beneath the horizon and bathed the world in darkness. She was alone and cold in the dark. They vision of Rose crying in the night haunting her. Would all the world end up like that? Would everyone and everything be reduced to crying alone in the night? Lily turned back to her homework, a shiver working through her spine. She was scared, but it was nothing that she couldn't handle. With a great effort she forced herself to turn back to homework and try not to think such daunting things.