She's exact.
Oh Merlin, she's exactly the same!
Is this genetically possible?
The eyes are different, but the face…
Lily Potter walks to the front of the Great Hall, shivering and staring determinedly away from her brothers, who are smiling and making faces, remembering their own Sorting and gleeful because this time it isn't them. All they have to do is sit back and relax. They've obviously been teasing her, probably full of "You'll be in Slytherin!"s. Even I remember my Sorting, the fear that the "real" Lily and I would be in different Houses, the fear that was realized with one "SLYTHERIN!" that has damned me my entire life.
I pick out other "classmates" in the throng, there are so many children or grandchildren of my old "friends," I see a Goyle, a near perfect Narcissa, even a shaggy haired boy that could pass for Black.
"Lily Potter!" is called, and she walks to the stool, placing the hat on her head, the point quivering along with her tiny body. The déjà-vu is so intense that I mutter the word along with the hat, "Gryffindor," and she rises to cheers and whoops from her huge family, and skips away so much like her grandmother to be engulfed in their hugs.
A few more people are called, the "Goyle" goes to Slytherin, the "Narcissa" to Ravenclaw like her mother (I do hope Draco won't give her a hard time, but he's always been so soft with his daughter) the "Black" to Hufflepuff, and then, oh Merlin.
It's me.
The boy is small, with the distinct impression of a boy unloved and lonely, tripping over his robes and always looking down, getting long black hair in his eyes. The face isn't exact, but I can't shake the feeling I'm looking at myself, and I'm sad for this boy, who I already know will be like me. I hope he's able to blend in like I did, to adapt, to at least have some friends, such as the ones in Slytherin are. I hope he's pureblood; that will at least give him a fighting chance at some respect. "Andrew Ride!" is called, but the name has no meaning, because he's me, he's me, he's me! How will I ever be able to teach him, he's me!
He walks to the stage stumbling, which causes a few snickers among the Slytherins- oh Merlin, he'll never survive. The hat drops over his eyes, and he waits, and waits, and waits. The rip opens wide and I close my eyes, knowing the next word will damn him like it damned me…
"RAVENCLAW!"
The far table erupts in cheers as he pulls of the hat and flees to a chair next to an equally scrawny boy, who pats him on the back and piles his plate with potatoes.
The Sorting continues, but I don't pay attention to any of it. I can't shake the feeling that the little boy I was 40 years ago is getting a second chance.
And I know this time he'll get it right.
ooooo
Thoughts? I'm sorry I killed all canon, trust me, I hated doing it. But there's no other way I could've done this. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed this little ficlet, it was truly an "oh Merlin I need to write this NOW before I forget!" type of thing thing. All reviews will be appreciated. Even if it's just $*&#! for my killing of canon, I'd rather have it than silence.