Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
MAY 2, NINETEEN NINETY-EIGHT
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
CLUTCHING HER BLEEDING HIP, AMARA POTTER-BLACK STUMBLES THROUGH THE GREAT HALL, DESPERATE TO FIND HER NEPHEW, ONE LAST TIME.
Tears flood her eyes as she passes by the bodies of her best friend and her goddaughter, lying side by side, hands together in death. She blinks them down. Mourning isn't necessary, she'll be with them soon enough. She has to find Harry, that's all, that's it.
Someone calls her name, but it's impossible to tell which direction it's coming from. The pain in her hip only rises with each second, blood pouring from the wound. A strong pounding in her head makes it hard to focus.
"Professor Amara?! Are you alright?" Through her blurry vision and foggy mind, she can make out the familiar messy brown curls of Hermione Granger, who is sure to be staring at her with concern.
"Harry... Find Harry..." Amara wheezes, her knees buckling as she drops to the ground. Her time is running out, she can feel it. Minutes, if she's lucky. The battle is over. They won.
"Professor Amara, let me try help you." Hermione pulls out her wand, pointing it at Amara's hip. Amara only pushes her away with a shake of her head.
"It's cursed, thanks to Bellatrix. There's no way for it to be healed. Listen, I need you to find Harry for me. I don't have much longer." Amara instructs, her words clear.
Hermione hesitates, but nonetheless turns on her hall and begins to run down the hall as she searches for him.
Taking one shaky hand off her injury, Amara reaches into her pocket to retrieve a small vial attached to a necklace that has miraculously survived the battle.
She clutches it in her hands, watching the rows and rows of the dead. Some have families and friends next to them, hearts breaking at their deaths, but some are alone, with no one left to mourn for them.
"Aunty Amara?"
Through her blurry vision, and distorted hearing, she can make out the face of her nephew. He stares at her, tears pouring down his cheeks as he desperately tries to fix her wound.
"Harry." She stops him gently. "Harry, it's okay. It's cursed, it can't be fixed. But I'm going to see them again, it's going to be okay." She reassures him. She doesn't have to explain who 'them' is. They both know.
"No!" Harry cries, his arms around her. "You can't die now! We just won, we just won." He shakes his head tearfully. "Don't leave me. Not yet. Just a little longer, please."
"I'm not leaving you, I'll still be with you. Just like your parents." She hands him the small vial attached to the necklace. "You don't have to watch them now, or ever, really. I just don't want them to be forgotten." She says.
"I'm not going to forget you, ever." Harry promises, staring at her with the forest green eyes that are so alike to Lily. He takes the vial from her, tucking it safely away in his pocket.
"Take care of Teddy okay?" Amara tells him. "Andromeda's good, but she's beginning to get on a bit in years, and with Dora's loss, it's going to be quite hard for her."
"I will look after Teddy until my dying day. I promise." Harry nods solemnly.
Amara smiles at him, lifting a shaky hand up to tuck a strand of hair from his eyes to behind his ear. "My beautiful nephew. James and Lily would be so, so proud of you, I know it."
Harry leans his head into her hand, shaking from the sheer force of his tears. "I love you." He says.
"Name your kid after me, yeah?" Amara jokes with a smile, her eyes starting to close. "I think Amara Lily Potter sounds nice. I'll haunt you if you don't. Lily Amara is acceptable too."
"Amara. Amara stay with me. Come on, I'll get Madame Pomfrey, and she'll having something to cure you. You're going to get better. Just, please don't leave me." He sobs, clutching her tightly in his arms.
"I'm sorry. But you've done such a good job. And I'm so, so proud of you." Her eyes are fully shut now, and she can feel herself begin to fade away. "We'll meet again soon, Harry."
And with that, Amara Danielle Potter takes her last breath.
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══╗ ONE YEAR, TWO MONTHS LATER ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
Reaching into a cardboard box, Harry pulls out a small assortment of items, none of which are particularly special, save for an old rememberall and some other small gadgets from long-forgotten events and activities.
"Did you find them, Harry?" Ginny calls from the kitchen. "Because dinner is ready."
"Did you find them?!" Ginny calls from the other room.
"No." He replies back, "Not in this box."
Three days ago, Harry and Ginny began the process of moving into their first house together. Currently, the two are sorting through boxes in a desperate attempt to find any sort of cutlery.
They tried to just accio it over, but for whatever reason it didn't work.
Harry enters back into the kitchen, watching as Ginny points her wand to a placemat and turns it into two knives and two forks. "They won't last long. We need to eat quickly."
The two eat in silence, the only noise coming from the radio playing muggle tunes quietly.
"I think I'm ready." Harry announces after he finishes.
"Ready for what?" Ginny questions.
"I want to see them. I want to watch her memories. Aunt Amara's." Harry explains.
"Are you sure?"
The last year had been hard on everyone, but Harry especially. His Aunt was the only person he had growing up, and her death had hit him hard.
"Yes." Harry nods. "It's been a year. I've grieved and I've cried until all my tears have gone. This is the next step."
"Okay well, I don't know where we can find a pen-"
"There's a pensieve at Grimmauld Place." Harry cuts her off, standing up and walking over to the fireplace.
"Oh, you mean now?" Ginny hurriedly gets up and stands next to him.
