Disclaimer: I do not ownHarry Potter. Anything you recognis belongs to Jk Rowling, anything else belongs to me.

Authors Note: I told youI would put another fic up soon, didnt I? So here it is, in all its glory -cough cough- my fanfic! Set after the war. This chapter is in Lilly's point of view but the rest shouldn't be, unless i change my mind suddenly. Please R&R becauseI hate it when people dont andI may not carry on with the story (laughs evilly). Anyway happy reading...

PS: Please feel free to abuse my spelling and gramar in review form. (hint hint)

Chapter 1: Lilies, Memories and White Marble

All of my memories keep you near, your silent whispers, silent tears…

When I was younger at I used to watch all the other kids with their family, laughing and hugging each other. At their birthdays' and Christmas' they used to get presents from their parents and sometimes complained that their father or mother didn't get them what they wanted. I used to stay up at night on those days wishing that I would get something, even a card from my father. I used to look up at the night's sky and look at the stars twinkling above me wondering if my daddy was up there, watching over me.

My mother used to tell me he was a great man, brave, funny, daring and loving. She said he used to hold me and sing a lullaby to put me to sleep, and that I used to rest my head on his chest and breathe in time with his heart-beat.

I sometimes think I can still hear the continuous beat at night, if I listen really closely. I can remember parts of he lullaby, but not all of it. At times it just comes to me and then goes in a sudden. Its comforting knowing that I can still remember it, that I still have some hope to grasp onto.

But deep down I know, I know that he'll never come back. He's gone.

Now that I'm 14 I've stopped wishing upon the stars, I've stopped hoping that one day he'll come back to me and everything will be all right. I'm not that naïve anymore. I'm not so simple-minded now.

I can still remember how much my mother cried when he disappeared. My aunt and uncle came around to our house and tried to talk about it with her, but she wouldn't talk to anyone, except me.

"Everything is going to be ok." She used to tell me stroking my long red hair. I used to believe her, but I'm not sure anymore. I'm not sure about anything.

I'm not even sure if I want him back now. After everything he put us through, all the grief and pain, I'm not sure if I want to see him again. He left us.

They never did find a body, I guess that's why everybody still has hope in him magically reappearing again, not me though. They sent search parties, but not even a trace. I was barely seven at the time, but I can still remember it.

I remember one day when I was young daddy brought me to a place that was magical. It was green, and had huge trees that towered up into the blue sky. There was a stream of crystal clear water that trickled down round pebbles, weaving a continuous path of transparent water in between the gaps. I remember running my fingers through the pure water and it being ice cold, but refreshing. White lilies grew everywhere, filling the air with the sweet smell of flowers and honey. He said this was my place and that if I ever needed him, to just come here and he would be there waiting. I cant remember where it was now.

I keep a picture of him and mummy by my bedside. Mummy is standing with daddy behind her wrapping his arms around her. She is holding a bundle of white blankets with a small head poking through at the end, me. They are both smiling at me and their eyes are twinkling as mummy cradles me back and forth.

You see, it's a moving picture. I'm a witch.

My mother is Ginny Potter; my father was called Harry, Harry Potter. My name is Lilly Potter, and I am a witch.

Today is exactly 7 years since my father disappeared and left us. Every year me and my mother go and visit his empty grave and place one single Lilly on it. Today was no different.

I can remember the day when we "buried" him. My mother insisted that we gave him a proper send-off. Like a funeral, but seeing as there was no body, we filled the coffin with an object from each of us, to remind our selves of what he was. I put in a piece of parchment with simple words on it.

I'll never forget, daddy.

It was a grey day, nearly raining, but the rain drops held back. Everyone was there, Uncle Ron and Aunty Hermione, my cousins Callie and James, Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur, all of my Uncles and Aunts (even Percy showed up), Lupin, Tonks and their two children. Everybody that knew my father came. We were on a hill, near Godrics Hollow, where I live and everybody was clad in black.

When the coffin was shut, with all the memories enclosed, it was lowered onto the ground, next to my dead Grandparent's tombs, Lilly and James Potter. I can remember throwing a white lily onto the hard dark wood of the coffin, and then beams of white light sprung up from the ground around, and enclosed it in a white marble tomb, just like the old wizard Dumbledore's tomb, just like my grandparents tombs, just like the many other dead people's tombs that were killed in the war before my father put an end to it.

On the tomb was engraved a picture of a lily underneath some writing.

Here lies the memory of Harry James Potter, husband, father and friend. While you are gone, our memories live on.

Harry Potter. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Lived. My Daddy.

I'll never forget, daddy, never…