October 28, 1981
The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon but we wait so long for it to begin. Life only truly begins when we learn to love and be loved in return.
It took me years to discover that life was never going to be easy. I would suffer through loss, disappointment, and heartbreak. I would be thrown into a raging war with no way to escape. I would be shunned, hated, and despised by enemies, fellow classmates, and even my very own sister.
It took me nearly six and a half years to realize that, though life would not be easy, I would have the one person beside me that would always make my world seem all right.
The professors had taught us all that they could; spells, charms, potions, transfiguration. But they could not teach us about life or how to cope with it. We were forced to learn that lesson the difficult way.
When the war first began, we were still children, shielded by the comfort of Hogwarts from the ever lurking shadow that awaited us once we stepped foot outside the school's boundaries. Voldemort and his cohorts were testing our strengths and attacking our weaknesses, attacking us hard and without mercy. Voldemort was cold, cruel, and unforgiving. We also learned that the difficult way.
We never saw truly saw death until then. We lost family and friends. Even students who did not lose anyone felt the loss of those around them.
It was painful. We heard our friends cry and we winced at their tears until it was our turn to cry. We comforted each other the best we could but it was difficult when we were trying to come to terms with our own losses.
It was during this war, where students were scarred daily by gruesome images of death and darkness, that I learned the greatest lessons of my life.
I learned that during the darkest of times—our friends are the ones that can help us see the light once more.
We were still children, really, forced to grow up in a time where no one left the war unscathed. We were all affected somehow, whether we were involved personally or watched with bated breath, hoping that it would all just end.
But it did not end, it would not end. We were losing hope, losing faith, losing life. Deaths came swiftly and ruthlessly. Our lives were frayed, ready to break, but we held on.
What did we hold on for?
I remember asking myself that sometime back mid-seventh year. I still can't quite answer it properly now. I know that I had to be strong. I had to force myself to move on, to cope with my parents' death, because I was Head Girl, I had to show an example to the other students. They could not see their Head Girl cry, could not see that I was just as broken, just as torn as everyone else. I would not let them see me so weak, so vulnerable, quite unlike the calm, collective exterior that I was known to have.
The truth was I wasn't doing so great. I was just a girl who was falling apart faster than she could put herself back together. But I couldn't fall apart, not in front of the first years that looked up to me as their strong leader who could face any disaster. I couldn't face any disaster. I could have barely faced failing a course, how could I cope with a full-blown war that was just waiting for us to leave the protection of Hogwarts?
The war became more drastic, more desperate. One side was trying to end it as soon as they could while the other fought just as hard, just as strong to keep it going, to draw out our weaknesses and make them their strengths.
Voldemort wanted to purge the wizarding world of filth; filth like me. It was hard to stand up against this war when I couldn't even stand up against the classmates who had waited their entire life for someone like Voldemort to appear. They hated me, regarded me as their inferior, regarded me with an immense urge to cleanse themselves of me, to cleanse the wizarding world of people who were not worthy to practise magic.
I felt uncertain about my future. I thought that one more tragedy would mean the end of me. But then I found something that I never imagined. I found friendship in the Marauders, a group who had made my life a living hell throughout Hogwarts. Their leader, James, had been named Head Boy beside my Head Girl.
James became what I could not. A leader. James taught me many things. One was that people change. We find friends and lovers in those we never thought possible. Friends that we trusted and thought we understood suddenly became people we hardly knew. We felt loss in other ways, not just death. The war brought a sudden strain on friendships and best friends were slowly being torn apart. You just didn't know who you could trust anymore.
In my seven years at Hogwarts, though, I found the greatest friendship in Remus Lupin, who was there for me when I needed him the most. I found a personal jester in Sirius Black, who would always try to comfort me when I was miserable. And I found a comfortable companion in Peter Pettigrew who was loyal and kind.
James gave me strength when I felt like I could go on, no longer. He became the leader that Hogwarts students, so desperately, needed. He was loyal, noble, passionate, and understanding. Everyone looked up to him. I often wondered how he appeared so strong when I could barely hold myself together.
'Years of practice,' he said jokingly. But seriously, he told me that he forced himself just as I had—he was just much better at pulling himself together than I was.
James became my companion through many difficult times. We dealt with each blow of the war together. Together we stand, divided we fall. He was my strength and I was his. Besides Remus, James became my confidant.
I don't quite recall when it happened, but it did. How did it occur? I couldn't tell you. All I remember is that one day; our mutual friendship erupted into mutual love.
It could have started when we shared our first kiss. I don't even remember how we started kissing. It wasn't all that romantic either. All I remembered as we were kissing was that I never wanted to kiss anyone except him again. He was gentle and passionate. It wasn't like any other kisses before; not so fast or wet with tongues down throats. I shudder to think I ever kissed that way before James.
I wanted him more than anything else. I discovered that with James by my side, the world would not end, it could not end.
Even now, three years after I have left Hogwarts, I still learn new things from James. He has shown me that true love is the greatest thing anyone can ever possess. He has taught me that love just isn't about butterflies in your stomach or passion in your kisses. It's about wanting to be with someone so much that it hurts to breathe. True love is knowing that at the end of a very long fall, someone will be there to catch you. That someone is your other half, the one person that makes you feel wholly complete. Love knows no boundary. It does not accept death as another path of life. It does accept that one day, soul mates shall meet again, but not in death-no, but in life once more. We only truly live when we learn to love.
Love gives life meaning and it gives us hope. James gave me hope when I felt that I would live in doubt forever. Remus gave me friendship when I felt that I would live in loneliness forever. Sirius gave me laughter when I was lost in waves of sadness. And Peter...Peter gave me faith when it seemed the entire world was against me.
The Marauders gave me life when I felt completely dead. And through them, I learned that in order to understand life and the true meaning of friendship, you have to face hardships, goodbyes, and heartbreaks.
Hogwarts was difficult. Life beyond Hogwarts was unbearable. We could no longer hide behind those tall turrets and warming fires. Instead of watching the war from the sideline, we were thrown into it. We experienced more death, created enemies, and established allies. We no longer made friends. We couldn't trust anyone anymore.
Though, despite everything, James and I married in July after graduating from Hogwarts. The wedding became our happiness in a moment of darkness.
Now, we have a child. If my tea leaves predicted, back in fifth year, that I would give birth to James Potter's child—I would have truly believed that Divination was a ridiculous class (even more so than I already believe now).
But Harry, my darling child, has shown me a different kind of love that I have never experienced before. I have a new reason to exist. It's hard to understand why James and I could stand to bring a child out into this war, to bear a child into the arms of shadow. But he is our light when all we can see is darkness.
Dumbledore has told us of a prophecy; one that speaks of the downfall of Voldemort. Our son may be the downfall of Voldemort but at what cost? A part of me wishes that it is Harry so that he could defeat Voldemort and not have to live in such a cold, cruel world. But what will we lose to celebrate such victory? Another part of me wishes it was Alice's child (heartless of me, I know) but I'm only thinking of the safety of my child. The rest of me wishes it was neither of us but then, how could Voldemort be defeated? Why couldn't it refer to some child I had never heard of? Though I would be saddened by this speculation, at least I would not be tormented by the thought of this happening so close to home.
At least Harry might have a chance to live in a world where he did not have to feel such loss as we have all experienced. At least Harry might have a chance to grow up with both his parents. There are so many children left orphaned, who have grown up without knowing how valiantly their parents fought against this overshadowing evil and how they fell fighting for something they believed in. I just want to give Harry that opportunity.
The war is far from over. But a new dawn is arising, a beacon of light, calling us from our deadly night.