they were perfect weren't they?
such a beautiful family, such sweet children, suchwonderful parents, what a blessed family the potters were.
aren't they?
there's mr potter. the boy who lived. the saviour of the wizarding world. head auror.
harry james potter.
a whisper of his name has the crowd parting to let him through. he's rita skeeter's juiciest gossip, but there's nothing scandalous to report, after all.
he's perfect, don't you see?
perfect, when he wakes up screaming in the night to an empty bed and monsters in his head.
perfect, when he can see his world falling apart like a house of cards and his wife slipping away right in front of his eyes.
perfect, when he turns to firewhisky to drown his sorrows and passes out in a drunken stupor, surrounded by broken bottles and shattered dreams.
perfect, when he clenches his fists every time he enters mcgonagall's office to yet another allegation against one of his children.
he's being ripped apart by his own demons.
voldemort may have left his soul.
but who's to say that there aren't any more demons feeding off of him there?
mrs potter is the best of them. the fiery weasley girl. the lovelorn rebel who saved hogwarts from completely falling apart during snape's rule. the brilliant chaser for the holyhead harpies.
ginevra molly potter.
she's the pioneer of women's rights and quidditch in the wizarding world. she's all curves and angles, dangerously beautiful, red hair flowing like blood, brown eyes flashing like diamonds in the dark, pouty lips painted to perfection.
she's perfect, after all.
perfect, when she feels herself drifting away from her husband and children.
perfect, when she whimpers with pain and terror at midnight, feeling like a helpless child swept away in a tide of nightmares.
perfect, when she dresses like a slut to attend a late-night soiree, leaving her husband to a cold bed.
perfect, when she feels the knife dig deeper in her heart under the cold stare of her estranged husband.
perfect, when she hears whispers of cheat, slut and whore and feels herself die a little on the inside. how can you cheat on harry potter?
perfect, when her children choose harry over her after the divorce, leaving her empty and cold in a desert of despair.
she's just a little girl who doesn't know what to do anymore.
who said the ghosts of your past ever let you go?
james potter is a star. the darling of gryffindor. the king of the quidditch pitch. the head boy who has that lovely dimpled smile that makes everyone go crazy. the seeker who singlehandedly one the quidditch cup two years in a row.
james sirius potter.
he's adored and admired at hogwarts. he has perfect grades, the perfect family, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect quidditch career, paved his way to being the perfect head boy.
he's just perfect, darling.
perfect, when he hears the whispers about how he doesn't deserve such respect just because his father saved the world from the clutches of a maniac and he clenches his teeth.
perfect, when his heart hurts at the fact that yet another girlfriend fucked him only for the fame. and he actually liked her.
perfect, when he sees his father screaming at his mother and rita skeeter wasn't wrong to say that his mother was a whore.
perfect, when he slowly falls apart with cigarettes and drugs in his blood, blowing away his dreams with the smoke that drifts to the empty sky.
perfect, when they strip him naked of his armour of the golden boy, showing all the insecurities he hides in his hurting heart.
he wants mommy, but you know, she isn't there anymore.
who says that sons follow in their daddy's footsteps?
(maybe he does, he doesn't know anymore)
albus potter is mysterious. he is named after the greatest wizard of all time. his magic is almost terrifying in its mystery. handsome enough to have scores of girls flocking around him. a rival to his own brother in quidditch and a damn good one at that.
albus severus potter.
he's feared and looked up to. the slytherin prince who sits on his throne and looks on as the commoners mill around him, hoping to taste a fraction of his greatness. every boy wants to be him. every girl wants him.
why? oh, 'cause he's perfect.
perfect, when the sorting hat shouts slytherin, and none of the weasleys talk to him for the entire year.
perfect, when he sees the sneering glances sent his way, because, you know, how can scrawny little albus compare to golden james in all his gryffindor glory?
perfect, as his emerald eyes pool with tears as his mother screams that it's albus' fault for being a freak and getting sorted into slytherin. his dad doesn't speak to her, ever again.
perfect, when he gets sick and tired of being pushed to the side and completely reinvents himself as the dark, powerful prince of slytherin. no one can stop him now.
perfect, when he yells at his mother at the weasley christmas dinner, shoves her, hard, when she approaches him and storms out into the blinding snow.
perfect, when his heart beats painfully fast, as he takes lily to st. mungo's because his baby sister slit her hands.
perfect, when he ditches another empty fuck with sweet words and a hollow heart.
perfect, when he sees the golden man his father had been lying shattered on the floor.
sometimes, it's a long fall from your pedestal.
oh, albus knows all about it, doesn't he?
lily potter is eccentric. with her flowing auburn hair tied in a bun with trinkets and frivolities, wide brown eyes that stare into the depths of your soul, lily is admired everywhere she goes. flowers seem to grow everywhere she steps – and sometimes it does, because lily doesn't quite reign in her magic like she should. the princess beside albus, the light to her brother's dark.
lily luna potter.
she is loved and adored. the potters' little princess who combines all the good qualities of her parents and brother and makes it shine with something that's completely her own. no one's ever jealous of her, even though she's as beautiful as her mother and as talented as her father.
who could resent someone as perfect as her?
perfect, when her heart aches seeing the hurt look in james' eyes as she pads over to albus at the slytherin after the sorting.
perfect, when they start calling her loony lily, just because she's different and doesn't quite fit in with the crowd.
perfect, when her mother leaves without so much as a goodbye kiss.
perfect, when she falls for the wrong boy, and he stamps all over her fragile heart, leaving her a bloody, fucking mess.
perfect, when she picks up the shining dagger, eyes it curiously and drags it deeply across her porcelain skin.
perfect, when she screams out in pain for her broken brother, who's crying and clutching and hugging and asking her to never ever leave him again.
sometimes, it's not enough if you're the light.
you do know that the darkness will eventually swallow you, right, darling?
wow. this is kinda morbid. and before you kill me cause i demeaned ginny, i feel that she would eventually realize that she was still hanging on to a childhood crush and maybe made a big mistake by pining after harry for so many years? i know, i know, this is a very bad way to express my opinion, but forgive me, cause this is a story, which you can choose to believe or not to believe. (besides, we all know that harry would do better with hermione, or better yet, someone else.)