This story begins with my death.
Yes, you read that right: my death.
No long dark tunnel, no blinding light followed by an immense feeling of peace. Nothing, except pain for all that I had lost.
You're probably wondering who am I, what happened to me, why I start my story from what should be the end ... don't worry I will answer to all your questions.
First things first my name is Elizabeth, Elizabeth Lily Potter.
Yes, Potter as Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry is my twin brother: same green eyes, same black hair impossible to tame, same tendency to get in trouble. The only things that differentiate us are the glasses, which I do not wear, and the scar that stood out on his forehead, cause of Avada Kedavra that Voldemort, by a strange twist of fate, decided to throw him first.
Let's move on to the second question: what has happened is that we've lost and the Dark Lord was finally able to win. When I saw my brother wake up and slipping from the Hagrid' arms I had felt a new wave of hope invade my body, but it was too good to last. First our best friends Hermione and Ron, followed closely by Ginny and Professor McGonagall, fell then it was happened. There, in the middle of the Great Hall and in front of all, Harry and Tom Riddle had been challenged and, always there, my brother had lost.
I had felt so much pain in my life, but nothing would ever exceeded see a part of me fall because of a mad just when we thought it was all over, when we thought we really resent made after a whole life of suffering.
I don't remember much of what happened next, I know that I shook my wand and marched towards the murderess of my family and then I started to hurl a spell after another but could not find a weak point in its defense, then the end.
I know, I have not answered the last question yet. Why am I starting from the end?
Easy: this is not the end but only the beginning of a new life.