IV:
30, October 1980


Hugos snores shook the walls into my bedroom, he would blame the noise on the alcohol most of the times but it was unreasonable noise. Hugos snores kept disturbing me in my sleep but the truth was that I couldn't stop thinking of my namesake. After a particularly loud snore even for being Hugo I sat up in me bed, red hair in a tangled mess and brown eyes sleep drunken and puffy. The blazing headache from sitting up too fast made me numb neck up.

"Hugo," I screamed while punching my hands angirly against the madras but got nothing as return.

Bollocks.

Secretly, very secretly I might add, I was content with Hugos familiar noise a wall away from me and let my gaze rest on the desk to the left. The Secrets of Lily Potter, a book I found over a week ago and still hasn't got my interest to fade away was softly lit up by the small lights of the night. I was a quarter drunk, a quarter sleepy, a quarter curious and a quarter bold when I sat in front of the book, opened it as I did the previous night and stared at the words that consumed me last night. The difference tonight was that the book allowed me to flip through the book. It was relatively thin to be a diary but when I read the dates one by one I realized that this was not a normal diary. The dates were often spread far away from each time and I even found a page with a date and only a sentence across the whole page but closed my eyes quickly before I grasped what it stood. I remember something Aunt Hermione used to say to us when we rushed her to reading a story quicker, "books were supposed to be read from the start," she used to say and I admitted that she was (always) right. The book followed my ways of thinking somehow and led me to the first written on page after a few blanks. I assumed that this was the first entry in the diary but the date stated differently.

"30, October 1980"

I read out loud from the book but stopped at the date, realizing that this was the last entry before the first Lily Potters death, only a day maybe even hours before her famous death. The date glowed in poison green and blood red but the letters beneath were ink black so I proceeded.


"When I write this I am afraid…"

The familiar suction towards the book made me just as sick as the first time and I felt all the limbs twitching just as horribly with the sensation of floating highly uncomfortable. My tangled hair covered my eyes and blocked the sight but when I finally landed on something I assumed was solid I saw a sight that made me lose my breath.

Without even touching the green and red mix I had entered in some kind of world alternative universe or scene from a movie. Only inches in front of me was a family of three in a living room couch. Slowly I realized that this entry in the diary wasn't written here but this was a memory pre 30 October 1980. This was an ordinary day and there in the sofa were my grandmother, grandfather and my own father playing, laughing, and not even knowing that someday too soon they would be visited by an evil beyond anything else that would change their lives and end their lives forever. A warm voice continued where I left off in the diary to my shock.

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"Not of death because they are many I would give my life to without thinking. I am afraid that my days haven't been lived to the fullest. I have loved and I have lived. It's just if there is something more magical than magic, how much I even doubt it, I hope that it would take us out of this mess"

.

I felt like an intruder to this moment but could tear myself away from it. It was easy to spot the young Lily Potter in the maroon sofa that was the center of the light yellow room and it felt like looking at my own reflection. Lily was in her early twenties, just like me, but I thought she was very pretty with the same thick dark red hair as my mum and me framing her soft, motherly features. Her lips were light pink and her cheeks were twisting to hide the small smile that wanted to creep up across her lips. Lily's eyes were closed at the moment, probably to preserve a mental image of this moment right there on the couch. When Lily finally decided to open her eyes to meet my curious eyes the blazing green that Albus and Harry had been so known for was glittering of joy and warmth. The greens stared at me like they knew that I stood there observing, intruding the moment they shared and then her greens moved lazily to her husband James Potter next to her and watched him lift the little baby high up towards the skies. In fear I stepped back to hit the coffee table that stood in front of the sofa. For a second I thought I felt pain but was uncertain. The table was a mix of dream and reality; to lose to be a dream but too vivid to not be considered as a reality. I observed the table for a while to try to decide if I was in some alternative universe or in a really messed up drunken dream before a baby's laughter reminded me of the scene only inches away.

They couldn't sense me or know that I was here I reasoned and started to look towards the source that caused the baby's laughter to fill the living room. My granddad James Potter looked exactly like my brother James S. Potter with the messy black hair, the round Potter glasses and the twisted smile of mischief. The only difference was that James Potter was but a bit shorter, a bit thinner and looked somewhat more tired and worn out than I had ever seen my brother. His body shape reminded me about my own father that was only the baby in this world. I was shocked when I heard the dark voice of my grandfather, much like my own dad but without the uncertainties or hesitation he had. His voice was filled with pride and kindness but had a hint of adult superior in the tone that dad didn't have and James Potter in this memory was only in his young twenties in this memory when my dad had to be millions…

"Look at him," James said proudly to Lily while lifting up baby-Harry to the skies.

"He is perfect," Lily replied towards the baby-Harry that giggled so innocent.

This moment, like stolen from one of Aunt Hermiones muggle movies, made me shiver down my spine and then Lily Potters voice started to fill the memory.

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"James and I are bored, stuck and we miss being able to take Harry outside from this house. And Harry, my sweet baby Harry. He can't hide forever. If there is something there – please guard our Harry and one day, when this is all over. I will smile and James too. We will be safe and happy again."

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"He has your beautiful eyes Lily," James said to the baby he know held in his arms instead of up in the sky. I was amazed by the softness in James touch when he stroke a finger from baby-Harrys temple down to his delicate nose.

"And that outrageous messy black hair of yours," Lily said embracing James with both arms and stared at baby-Harry in James arms. Lily kissed James so tenderly at the cheek while James grinned.

"That's my uncle's knees!" James burst out when his attention went back to Harry from Lilys slow kisses.

Lily rolled her eyes fondly and a wide grin was forming across her lips. "Isn't it a bit odd that you know your uncles knees shape?"

"I liked him." James shrugged. "And his knees, he had a good set of knees."

While Lily formed a reply in her head by the expression across her face baby-Harry started to make some sounds, probably because James started to rock him in his arms.

"Beautiful Harry," Lily said softly and stared at me baby with motherly love filling her green eyes. I saw the pride in her eyes glittering in the mix of tears.

"Harry Potter," James said just as softly and kissed the baby at his temple.

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"My secret is that I am afraid, I am afraid that something will happen to Harry. He is just a baby. He doesn't deserve this; I don't know how all this could happen. But The Order of the Phoenix, yes -- they say that the word of Lily Potter and James Potter being safe is keeping them going but most importantly, Harry Potter and somehow the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is near."

.

I listened to the voice of Lily Potter while looking at my father, dad, in the arms of my grandparents. It looked so, real but I didn't dare approaching them. The scene felt like home and my senses feasted in this ordinary piece of memory. James Potter was busy filling Lily Potter's neck with slow kisses in silence while baby-Harry rested in his arms carefully wrapped. Lily Potter's lips cracked to the same smile they once hid and ran her hand through James Potter's messy hair, almost messing it more so it made James Potters lips smiled against her neck because of her touch. History taught me that this moment wouldn't last forever but dissolve under artificial green from the wand held by evil but the beauty of this moment might've been forever nevertheless…

They were perfect.

They never let each other or baby-Harry go, I watched them sit so close to each other and Lily shut her eyes again. Preserving a picture of this moment perhaps and I sighted. It was unfair.

Just as I felt comfortable the scene dissolved under my feet and I knew that I was getting dragged away from this memory back to me reality. The pull left me dizzy by the entire intake of memories but not nauseated or seconds from fainting. I was right back in my room, on chair, seconds from tilting too much to the left but grabbed myself onto the wooden desk. The last sentence on the beige page in front of me was sickening after spending it in that perfect moment of James and Lily Potter's life.

"I hope that they are right about He-who-must-not-be-named, Harrys survival and our safety... I really do." I read out loud, not knowing why I read it loudly and my eyes went to the bottom of the page. I didn't know it could feel so bad to see a name, my own name, but my stomach did the nastiest turn when I saw the tidy signing bellow that might be the last words ever written by that hand.

Lily

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