Prologue
What changed your life? For most young witches and wizards, it's their Hogwarts letter, their acceptance to this school they had heard so much about or never heard of. For some, it's a certain tune, a line of music that altered their life. Maybe a sound or a smell, something completely normal and even dull, made special according to circumstances.
Me? What changed my life? Looking back to it, I realize it's a color. A simple color that we see almost everyday. The color called green.
Green can stand for so many things: lavishness, envy, sickness. It can stand for happiness or horror. For me, it spells out a beginning. Doesn't matter good or bad, it's just a beginning. Sometimes it brought me joy, but other times, it brought me sorrow and pain. I suppose you can't exactly choose. It's just a matter of perspective.
That startling, amazing, full green. And it's the beginning.
The Green which was Sickly
March 27, 1960
Shriek. Laughter. Noise. Repeat.
Confusion. Chaos. Crying. Repeat.
I'm flailing. Can't settle. Worried tones. Questions of sickness.
"James will be a healthy, active boy!"
Denial. Sorrow. Hysterical. Confusion.
"I don't know, Mrs. Potter, he doesn't seem to be very healthy. Look at his skin, it's tinted purple."
More screams. More crying. More protests. More confusion.
"Do something then! You're a Healer!"
A shriek from a mother. A moan from a father. A cry from a baby. A sigh from a Healer.
Then quiet sobs. In my mouth is a bottle. Vile stuff. Spit it out.
"No, no, baby, you have to drink the whole thing."
Splutters. Protesting cries. Shaking of heads. Groan from the Healer.
"Hold his head, please, Mr. Potter. Without this potion, I don't know ifhe'll survive."
Great force. No more movement. Calmer? Certainly not. Just restrained.
"There, there, James, we're done now. Good! There!"
Splutter. Opening of eyes. I caught a glimpse. The potion. Brilliant green.
"Let him rest, he'll surely recover after this."
Darkness. Eyes close. Gentle breathing. Sleep.