Disclaimer: However pointless this is, I do not own Harry Potter.
Ginerva Lillian-Molly Potter. Nine pounds, five ounces, eleven inches long. Born on fourteenth of March, forty-three minutes past the third hour of the day.
Ginerva Molly Weasley Potter. Twenty-six years old. Time of death: forty-four minutes past the third hour of the day on the fourteenth of March.
A new life, an old life, one exchanged for the other. My beloved wife never even saw the daughter she had hoped for; the daughter who looked 'exactly like her father, but with her mother's eyes.' How was I, Harry Potter, supposed to raise a daughter? With trials and triumphs and help from my friends, glad to help with whatever, unable to produce a child of their own. And here begins the story of Ginerva Lillian-Molly Potter, my new star.
xxx
"Harry James Potter, I'm going to kill you, as it's your fault I'm like this! OW!!! GET THIS BLOODY THING OUT OF ME!" My Gin had been screaming this for the past fourteen hours, determinded to shatter my very hand.
"Mrs. Potter, I'm afraid you won't be having a natural birth." A medi-witch informed us. We knew this was coming; Ginny had been sick for some time and just didn't have energy.
Paling, Ginny nodded, drained from pain. All the while, I murmured sweet nothing, her grip loosening when we heard the baby cry.
"Ginny, darling, love, we have a girl!" I whispered. As I peppered her with kisses, there was no response, skin pale, cold, breath non-existent.
It was a complete hour before I was allowed to take my daughter to her new family, as I was required to take Calming Draughts.
As I came out, face tear-streaked and baby asleep, everyone looked at me, worry and happiness on their faces.
"How's Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley asked, mistaking my tears for joy. I shook my head as she removed the baby from my arms, Hermione enveloping me as my friend, my sister. The nearby Healer was required to explain.
It was another two hours, as I sat with Ron at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley having taken the baby upstairs, before I spoke.
"Ginerva. That's her first name. Ginerva Lillian-Molly Potter."
"Harry, how can you name her when you've hardly looked at her?"
"It's the name Ginny wanted. Lillian Molly at least." And it was true. I'd refused to look at her, finding she reminded me too much of my dead wife.
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Lily, as we now called her, and I remained at the Burrow for two days, leaving for mine and Ginny's home in Godric's Hollow as soon as we could. I refused to go to her funeral, refusing to go into our bedroom, her bathroom, move her shoes from by the door or take her cloak off the coat rack, as I found it too much to handle, too much to think about.
For the first two weeks, Lily would be awoken by my crieds, always falling asleep as we rocked in the nursery. I always fell asleep watching her.
When the first month rolled past, I had Hermione to come help me baby-proof the house. She told me I needn't worry yet, but I did. To me, my daughter was everything; a living tribute to her. The last thing she gave to the world.
A/N: Well, that's chapter one. I hope you all liked this, and I'm in desperate need of a beta. -sigh- Please, review! If I don't get reviews, then I think no one likes it! Now, don't make Lulu sad, and review!!
Lulu
Chapter Two: Age 5
Lily's fifth birthday at the Burrow, here's an excerpt;
"Thank you Grandmum, Grandad!" Voice ringing out, Lily showed me the latest memorabilia. "It's Mummy's dress robes!" I smiled sadly as she showed them to me - robes that had been Ginny's when she was younger. It was tradition now; Lily had been slowly getting pieces of her mother's past for holidays. She continued her presenst; books from Ron and Hermione, joke stuff from the twins, a dragon snow globe from Charlie, a toy broomstick from Billy, and then she got to the smallest: mine.
Slowly she opened it, a gasp escaping her small mouth.