III:
Offspring's


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The poison green with the blood red was inked in to the page for what I thought was a century ago. Still it didn't fade away as normal ink did or lose its glitter as everlasting ink did. If there was a better word for what the ink looked like against the beige page I would use it but the vocabulary of Lily Luna explained it as glowing. I sat in front of the book, page still open, with admiration and fear.

Fractions of Lily Evans Soul.

Fractions of souls, the reason my father fought his whole teen life and the reason he still fights bad dreams, scars and unwanted fame. Small fractions of something bigger and more evil than anything barely living was the reason of pain for so many all those years ago and today still, not just my father's but Teddy that grew up without his parents and even Uncle George that lived like a half.

But here they were; fractions, pieces, small traces of something that didn't live.

Lily Potters fractions were inked in, glowing unnaturally like poison and blood. James was right, I had to destroy the book but it slowly consumed me and wanted me to touch the page. I had been taught properly by my mother and I knew better than to disobey the elder, even if they were dead so I let my fingers play on the beige page to try to absorb the history the page hid but my instincts feared to touch the words; maybe I would just look it through? Read something about the 70s and 80s that Lily Potter lived in and then return the book to the attic next to the werewolf book and pretend that I never stole such an intriguing book?

No, see, I don't work like that. I never rethink, I didn't think when I moved into this flat, I didn't think when I skipped the Divination O. too snog a seventh year Slytherin behind the oak-trees, I didn't care much for listening to my mother's ranting about being a Auror and I certainly didn't think when I got a muggle tattoo inked in, you know what forget the last part, forget everything! Point is, I never rethink or think for that matter. I feel and I act.

The book however didn't agree with my choice to act, I wanted to turn the page to have a look through but stuck to the first page where the sentence about Lily Potters soul was inked in. The thoughts of a Horcrux avoided my mind constantly, there was no chance. No change at all, that would mean that Lily Potter killed somebody, splitted her soul and mostly lived.
But I was a dumb Auror and a according to myself a reasonable woman so therefore I touched the glowing words, knowing that something would happen but somehow it was meant to be.

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Soul.

Soul was the last thought that ran through my head when a weird sensation came rushing from my index finger through the rest of my body. It felt like my veins were filling up with thick and warm goo. I had the feeling of hovering outside my body with the warm goo that filled me up but that changed in a split second. I felt almost sick by the suction towards the book and felt all the limbs twitching and then dropping highly uncomfortable towards with my room dissolving around me into a fast rushing mix of darkness. My vivid red hair covered my eyes and blocked the sight but when I finally landed on something that I assumed was solid I felt a pain that made my lose my breath and feel dizzy. And then a thousand memories, a lifetime of compressed memories rushing through my veins and passing through my body with the warm goo. When I dared open my eyes I saw a life time of memories that wasn't my treasures, they flashed in front of my eyes and in my mind, no not in front of me. Through me.

It all happened so fast and so realistically but still like a dream; I spotted the young girl that I knew was my grandmother. Lily Evans hugged a mother, a father, a sister and smiled. She rode a bicycle, sat on a swing, read a book, played, met a dark haired boy, shopped in a crooked street; she sat on a train, cried, laughed and fell in love. The memories didn't stop, Lily Evans met another boy, fought, did magic, cried, rode a train, cried, met a dark haired boy, smiled, lived, feared, met a dark haired boy, cried, smiled and the memories were dripping of poison green and colored by blood red. The memories rushed through me in a fraction of second; the smell of cotton candy, man perfume, sweat, flowers and baby mixed with the sight of Lily Evans in different ages and moods confused I until the memories flashed with the same artificial green that I feared dearly and real world somehow pulled my out from the books grip back to my safe home.

The book was closed and I was lying in the floor of my bedroom exhausted and seconds away from passing out. Seconds.

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"Hullo" said a voice I recognized from some farfetched memories.

I tried to open my eyes to meet the owner of the voice but the sun burnet them teary so I decided that whoever trespassed my flat could stay a minute longer in my darkness.

"Oi, Lils" said the voice again.

I heard a lot of activity in my room from the owner of the voice but I refused to react. What use did it make anyway?

"Lily Potter!"

"Merlin – Its Lily Luna" I spat and opened my eyes against my will to spot a grinning brown haired man standing above my head with something that I hoped I mistook as a cup of water tilting against my face.

I didn't mistake the evilness."Hugo!"

"Morning sunshine, muggle bar night? Geez, you really know how to let yourself go" Hugo Weasley answered behind his roars of laughter.

It was not before I sat up I realized that I spent my night on the floor.

"What am I doing on the floor?" I asked Hugo and somehow he found this more amusing.

"That is a story I thought you were going to tell me" he answered teasingly and left me on the floor without even offering me a hand.

"Hey Hugo?" I yelled out to the living room where I heard Hugo turning on the TV.

"Yeah?" Hugo yelled back before a sound of broken glass and a numerous of curses that Hugo inherited from my Uncle Ron filled the living room.

I smirked, viciously. "You're an arse"

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The dim light of the candle at the bar was annoyingly dousing. Maybe it was the mix of Hugos typical Sunday night session of talking about wonders of Herbology and the wonders of his current girlfriend. The bar that shifted in different kinds of wood and the same green that the pool table had felt like a place more accepting than home. In here I was just Lily; the regular with the fire-red hair, beer obsession and the only one feminine enough for the ladies room, except the mascara wearing guy with the gorgeous red heels I had my eyes on all night. The wooden clock was long past midnight and the candle flickering towards its end was so dousing…

"Are you listening Lils?" Hugo asked again and I provided with a nod to encourage him to continue his monologue. I wasn't this bad of a best friend to Hugo normally but I couldn't stop thinking about last night; the memories that I so selfishly stole and the feeling of waking up on the floor unsatisfied by a nights rest. I was still worried about the dark magic that hit James only two nights ago and the fractions of a soul, the pieces of a whole that shouldn't be torn apart. If of course that was what the book implied.

The simplicity in sipping a beer next to Hugo was stolen away from my, all because of a diary. I tried to listen as Hugo continued about his love and the dilemmas that came with one too many shots in his hand and his babble made me think of the true, non fame related and almost painful but real love we children of Potter weren't allowed to feel being Wizarding celebrities.

"How are Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione?" I interrupted finally.

Hugo that was busy in describing the anatomy of his girl friend, to the guys next to him great excitement and cheers."Fine I guess because there's not fighting. It's a good day today"

"They're perfect" I admitted dreamily. The way Ron and Hermione played and fought was an art that few had the opportunity to find and that the whole Weasley clan admired.

"As I said… it's a good day today" Hugo shot back, clearly not seeing their fighting as love.

I hesitated with my bad remark about his one-nighters but changed my mind instead. "I'm sorry it's just that I thought…"

"That my relationships would be like that? Don't you think that we could be as good as them?" Hugo shot even harder.

"We are not them" I told Hugo stiffly.

"Potter, Potter, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Dad, mum, uncle. That's what she talks about all the time. She doesn't date me – She dates my bloody parents!" Hugo yelled and slammed his shot glass against the wooden bar. I knew what he was talking about, bitterly enough I had dated a lot of guys that dreamed of meeting the brave hero or the gorgeous athlete.

"Enough with the alcohol Hugo, let's go home." I told him assuring, still boiling with rage towards Hugos girlfriend for hurting him and for the world treating us like floo centers to our parents fame.

The bartender looked apologizing towards me for slipping Hugo one drink to many and with that we left the bar. The cold that hit my face when I stepped out followed by a cursing Hugo was awakening. We walked towards my building and I knew that it was a fact that Hugo was spending the night on my couch or even on my bathroom floor if he didn't make it to the couch in time. The street in its emptiness was as uncomforting but beautiful like any Sunday night I spent with Hugo at the bar; drinking away in anonymity but somehow Hugo broke the beauty of the night.

"We go here to avoid it you know that don't you?" Hugo said frowning.

"Avoid what Hugo?" I said pointlessly because I knew already.

"Don't be silly, I am a Weasley – I can't imagine being a Potter"

Hugo was too much like Uncle Ron with his killing sincerity but bad timing.

"It's bad" I told Hugo sincerely.

"Went down to Hogsmeade last week, wanted to drink away – god what was her name, anyways – ended up with discussing a war I never fought with guys cheering me on like I was my bloody parents" Hugo said frowning and stopped in the middle of the empty street with his arms stretched out from both sides of his body.

"And still you aren't Lily Potter, you wouldn't even know hard it is to be a Potter" I snapped at Hugo for standing with arms stretched out but mostly for even thinking that he had it bad.

Hugo, just like any Weasley wore his emotions on his sleeve, I would know – my rage was always bubbling on the surface because of the Weasley genes, but Hugo sulked, "I'm married with the poster-people for love but skips from skirt to skirt like a bad record… and you say that being a Potter is bad"

I scoffed. "You don't know anything about being a shadow, not living up to expectations. I mean it's really, really bad."

Hugo yawned.

"You're not me! You are Hugo. There is no other Hugo, just you!" I added fiercely, not allowing Hugo to feel any more tortured than my. I thought of Lily Potter in the middle of my rant towards Hugo, in the middle of the street with the alcohol heating up my insides along with my anger of being just another Lily. A Lily that didn't quite measure up.

"It's easier Lils. To be Hugo, just Hugo. Not Hugo the son of Ron Weasley, superhero. Not Hugo the son of Hermione Weasley, library" Hugo told my behind his new hiccups. We've reached the building rather quickly I realized and I fumbled with my keys as I answered him. "Exactly" but I smiled at the thought of my Aunt Hermione being referred to as a library.

"You are a Weasley so you're slightly lucky but… I know Hugo. Believe me." I added when I pushed him up the stairs.

Hugo looked at me a while before pursuing his goal of annoying me. "I knew that you would Lily, that's why you are my best friend Lily Potter"

"Lily Luna" I snapped at him while leading him up to my door, 4F. I knew he was provoking me by using that name.

"See? You always do that" Hugo said, laughing too loud for his own good. "You go around and snap when they call you Lily Potter but you are her, you are a Potter, you are you"

"I'm not her, I am surely not him, I, am me" I hissed and unlocked the door with my wand after making sure that the nosy muggle from 4D wasn't around.

"That's what I said; you're Lily Potter, the new version. Everybody knows that." Hugo said smartly. "And so you know, I never brought up your father – you did"

I felt lightening strike inside my body at Hugos careless explanation. I am simply a new version.

"We are not like them" Hugo added out loud when I pushed him into the flat to release some newfound anger towards my best friend.

"Really? How are we?" I asked Hugo annoyed while unzipping my jacket.

"We are cowards, spoiled, not heroic, shadows." Hugo yelled from the living room he managed to get to while I was busy with my high heels. There was a crash on the couch and the standard curses before Hugo added,
"They are heroes, they lived, fought and spilled blood for love and we are simply their drunken and underachieving offspring's"

I sighted to myself in the hallway. I thought of my family and the glimpses of life I stole from the brave Lily Potter last night and knew that Hugo was right; they were heroes, all of them. Lily Potter had lived normally, not like the Potter-Weasleys with anything from their birthday pictures to their achievement covering front page on every leading wizard newspaper and she had sacrificed herself for her son. Her son in return had sacrificed himself for the world and what have I done? Nothing of importance to anyone; just drinking beer and complaining about being a part of their heroism. It was easier to steal Lily Potter's memories, live in her era and not be this"new" version of Lily Potter. I could just learn to be that one that they missed – the one they already assumed that I was.

"Drunken bloody offspring's, that's what we are Potter" Hugo yelled again with traces of sleep in his voice. "Drunken bloody offspring's"

"I know" I answered a few minutes later to a Hugo that had passed out.

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