I looked into her eyes. She was beautiful. She was everything I had ever wanted yet something was wrong. She had the soft red hair that hung around her face and the plump lips. She could have been hers, but the eyes were a giveaway. They weren't the lush emerald green, but a greasy black, just like her fathers. She could have been mine and Lily's child, but she wasn't and I guess that is why I didn't want to bring her up as my own, but I would always love her like I had. I was disgraced with myself of how I had brought her into the world. I didn't deserve a daughter and this girl deserved better than I.
Her mother, Martha, was beautiful and was full of spirit. Her hair, red, hung down to her waist and her jaw line, chiselled and precise. Her eyes were the only thing that brought me back from my dreams and knocked me flat on my face. Her eyes were a bright blue, not the scorching colour that my Lily's were. She was a witch but nothing of the sort that Lily was. Lily could have conjured a marvellous potion within five minutes, yet Martha would have to try once or twice before reaching the correct colour or smell.
I met Martha at the ministry. She had dropped her books, and I caught a glimpse of her red hair and jumped at the opportunity. I kneeled down and picked one book and looked up into her face. She was too busy apologising to see what I looked like, but when she looked at me, she made it obvious that something clicked within her. We got on good enough throughout that day, and I was thrilled when she asked to see me again. I gave her my address and it wasn't long before I called her a friend.
Soon, we got together and it was magical. Martha was happy, as was I and soon, I felt myself falling for the wrong person. I was brought back to realities by that prophesy. It could either be that Neville boy, or Lily's dear boy, Harry. I was reminded about Lily the more I heard about the fear both Voldemort and Dumbledore held for this prophesy and soon, Martha was once again second best.
With Lily once again storming my dreams, I began to mistake Martha for her. I often called her Lily to friends by mistake and received many odd looks from her family as these mistakes began to happen frequently.
Martha and I argued the more and more I persuaded myself she was in fact Lily. One night, I took it too far and within two weeks, Martha had fallen pregnant. She didn't know how to feel, but I knew how I felt. I felt hate and rage towards her. Of course, it was my fault and I should have taken the blame but after that, all I did was blame and hurt her, mentally and, as much as I hate to say it, physically. Martha felt love and compassion but confusion and regret and I have always felt sorry for what I did.
I had resumed the school term and was marking papers when Dumbledore came to my office. He informed me what had happened to Lily and James and I broke apart. Dumbledore had promised me that, to the best of his ability, he would protect Lily and poor little Harry and his meddlesome father. I sat there all night, sobbing and smudging the hard effort most of the pupils had put into their essays.
I needed to stop living a lie, so that very night, I left Hogwarts and went home to Martha. I packed my bags and kissed her on the cheek, careful not to wake her up and went and looked at my only daughter. My child was sleeping behind a curtain of red hair. I touched it softly before leaving for the door.
Now, she will be eleven and her mother will be packing her off to Diagon Alley so she can buy all that she needs for the new school term at Hogwarts. I don't know if she will know who I am or about the relation between us, but she will look more like me now than she did when she was small and that may give her unwanted and constant questions.
I sit in my home, holding the only photo I have of her. I have never heard her speak but I could always hear her talking, whispering silent words to me. I didn't really know her, yet I still love her and miss her with every fibre in my body.
I can picture her now, long red hair held together in a bow made from silk. Her eyes, as black as they were, lighting up her face with happiness as she is sorted into Gryffindor, like Martha and her face full of wonder when the food magically appears before her very eyes. I see her wandering down the corridors to her next lesson, unknowingly being watched by her father whose heart is full of pride as she gets A's in every class. I see her with her first love and how they will sit hand in hand watching the sun go down next to the lake, Her first heart break, her first sight of her one true love, their first kiss, her wedding, her children and finally her growing old in his arms and I realise that she may never know that her father, unnoticed, saw the whole thing and was so proud to have secretly been a part of it, however small and however meaningless.
I put the photo back into my inner coat pocket and sigh as I look out the window onto the cold streets of London. I will be setting off for Hogwarts tomorrow to prepare for another year of teaching Potions to underachieving wizards and witches. Turning for my bed room, I pull the suit case down from on top of the wardrobe and wave my wand to fill it with the same black robes that I usually take with me.
I sigh when I realise that I am fully packed yet have nothing else to do with my day. Sitting on the window ledge, I let my mind roam and wander to thoughts of my daughter and to what she may look like.
Please review, this is my first story and I want to know whether to give up or not. :) Even one word will do. Just a 'Good' or a 'bad' and I will be happy. :) x
