I'm sorry, but I HAAAAAAD to write this. This first part is from Harry's point of view, the second, Lily Luna Potter…
I don't even remember what happened. I was just one. And yet I'm loved and hated by all. It's not my fault it happened. It's not my fault they wanted me dead. I didn't plan it. It gave me fame. I'd rather be an ordinary, unknown person, in this large overpopulated world. But I'm not.
People think I'm lucky to be so well known. Lucky? Oh yeah, I'm very lucky to have to live with a spoiled pig. People don't understand how much I want to be like everyone else.
People, who dislike me, tell me that I'll be rejoining my mummy and daddy soon. Some say that I'd meet the same sticky ending…
I don't even remember what happened. I was just one. And yet I'm loved and hated by all. It's not my fault it happened. It's not my fault they wanted me dead. I didn't plan it. It gave me fame. I'd rather be an ordinary, unknown person, in this large overpopulated world. But I'm not.
I never got to know my father. People tell me he was a kind, generous man. Others say he was selfish and mean. I don't know which to believe, I mean, of course Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron and all those people would say he's nice, but Professor Nott and Professor Smith say he was mean and heartless.
Dad's death hit James hardest. He was five when it happened. He remembers the green light and the pain that ran through him.
James remembers dad most. He remembers how dad would take him for rides on his firebolt, the one dad's godfather got him. He even remembers the distressed look on dad's face one day when he came back from work. He remembers the urgent tone dad used when he told mum that he needed to talk to her.
All I remember is a smile. A smile and a flash of messy black hair. Oh, and laughing green eyes…
James tells me that it was the same people who killed Gran and grandpa, that tried to kill the potters. He tells me that mum and dad saved us just like Gran saved dad. That's why James and I are alive, even though we were hit by the killing curse. James told me how mum dad and him were all tied up. I was lying in my cradle. James told me how there were about ten people, all dressed in scary black robes talking in raged voices at dad and how dad gave short, calm replies to all their answers. When dad would not tell the people what they needed to know, one man yelled, "do it now, Lucius!" and James muttered "do what now?" Then the man who had spoken said "maybe, just maybe if we start with his beloved kiddies, we'll get an answer". "Do not touch the children!" one lady standing away from the group said. The man named Lucius starred at her. "What was that narcissus?" he sneered. "Do not touch the children" she was trembling from head to tow. "I see" Lucius said, "then you will kill them".
"I will not!" she said.
"It's not like they're our son!"
"And what of our son, Lucius?" Narcissus said coolly, "where is he?"
"Where he belongs: in hell"
"He is not. If someone would go to that place, it would be you!"
"Lucius, we have a job" one man said impatiently.
"Of course"
Then Lucius and the man took out their wands and walked towards us. But then, dad started glowing. Suddenly the ropes holding mum and dad's arms to their sides disappeared. Dad raced to my cradle and held me in his arms. Mum held on to James. They were both protecting us.
Then Lucius and the other man both yelled " Avada Kedavra." There was a flash of green light and mum and dad both fell to the floor. Somehow James managed to catch me before I hit the floor.
Then the two men rounded on us. They shouted the words again, but we didn't die. Instead the room exploded and everyone the people in black died. All but one. The lady. Narcissus.
James told me how the lady tried to pick me up, but he wouldn't let her. James was trying to protect me. Then some people came and the rest was a blur of questions and quiet answers from James. Healers at tried to separate us, but he wouldn't let them take me away from him.
Albus came back from Romania with Uncle Charlie wondering where Mummy and Daddy were. How's a three year old supposed to understand death? Even today. I never understood death. I never understood how someone can be alive one second and not the next. And I never understood how he could be there one second and just not the next.
I never understood. I never want to. I never will.
Ok? Horrible? Awesome? To sad to bare? What do you think?
