There, in Spirit
I sit her on my cloud in heaven and look down. And sigh. Being an angel is boring, I think to myself, and I don't feel like an angel at all. Everyone always thought I was an angel when I was alive. I was known as being the one who was always gentle, kind, nice and forgiving. But they don't know how horrible I was sometimes. They don't know often I wanted to be downright mean. They don't know how often I wanted to decline to forgive. Isn't it enough that I had to be pictured as perfect, as an angel, in life? Why do I have to be one while I'm dead as well? I don't know where James is. He's the exact opposite of me with this angel thing. He loves it. I thought a James Potter with feet was bad enough, seeing the number of times he managed to fall on me, bump into me, knock me over…well, you get the picture. But now that I've seen a James Potter with wings I would call the way he was on earth slow and harmless. I swear, he zips around all over the place with those things. I sigh again. How could he be having a good time up here? Doesn't he feel any sorrow at having a one year old baby down on the ground, my baby, who is now being tortured by my horrible sister and her horrible husband and their horrible son, in their horrible house? At having a friend on the ground who was now in Azkaban? At having had another friend betray him, leading him to his death, and mine, and almost our son's? At the unhappiness of yet another friend because all his friends are either dead or traitors, even though this is not exactly the case? Doesn't my husband have any heart? I know that he does. Still, there are so many unanswered questions. So many problems not solved. Another pang of sadness hit me. I think of Harry. He hasn't gotten his letter yet. I worry, although I know he's magic. I've seen him do it. I stifle a giggle. Although its not funny the way Vernon and Petunia treated him when it happened, it was funny, the things that happened. Turning his teachers hair blue, finding himself on the roof of his school, taking the glass away from the snake's cage at the zoo. I sigh, yet again. I look up and see James, flitting through the sky happily. The smile on his face is the one he gets whenever he's done something mischievous. I'd better watch out, I tell myself, I don't want to turn out to be the butt of yet another of his jokes. Suddenly a voice echoes through me. Lily I hear stop mourning. Harry's fine. In fact, he just got his letter. Go fly, use your wings, and see your husband. Heaven is not a place to mourn in. Be happy Lily…Lily…Lily… the voice stops, and I almost shout with joy. He's in! I think, he's into Hogwarts! I fly over to James, who's floating a little ways away. I tell him the good news. As we celebrate I think a silent prayer, hoping that Harry will hear. Harry, I know we haven't been there for you all your life. I hope you forgive us. But we haven't truly abandoned you, 'cause if you ever truly need us, we'll be there. There, in spirit.
Down on the ground the boy called Harry Potter gave an involuntary shiver, as if silently hearing and understanding his dead mothers prayer.
Disclaimer: *Weeping* I'm ashamed of myself! I broke my rules. 1. I named people *collective gasps from readers* 2. I had someone else (God) talking in this piece *more gasps* and 3. I put in that little bit about Harry on the ground. Please forgive me, but it's a bit hard to write pieces about dead people. Anyway, here's the disclaimer. Lily, James, and Harry as well as all implied characters (Sirius, Remus, Peter) belong to the WONDERFUL J.K. ROWLING! God belongs to…to…well, I guess he belongs to himself, unless he belongs to Christianity…but no, Jews have God too…so do other religions…OH HECK! So God either belongs to himself, Christianity, or religion, heaven knows which. Oh, and I guess heaven belongs to itself…unless it belongs to God…or…I AM NOT GOING INTO THIS AGAIN! HEAVEN BELONGS TO WHOMEVER THE HECK YOU THINK IT BELONGS TO! GOODBYE!!!!!