━━━ 。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。
"You're very sweet, you know that?"
"You're the only person who thinks that."
FORGET ME NOT ╱ THEODORE NOTT
„I remember the first time I saw you.
your green eyes and...
SNOW WHITE BUT WITH SNAKES 1991 ╱ Watching The Movies 𖦹︎ ! 𖥦
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A/N : A long chapter to make up for the fact that I didn't post last week <3
Normal = Past, Bold = Future Normal Italics = Past Flashback, Bold Italics = Future Flashback
━━━ 。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。
James Potter faced the concept of death with an unusual calmness. To him, death was a universal truth, an inevitable conclusion that awaited everyone, regardless of their actions or character. It bore no favoritism; every soul, whether virtuous or malevolent, ultimately succumbed to it.
As he contemplated his own future demise, a profound sense of peace washed over him. The thought of his impending end was softened by the knowledge that he would leave this world a hero, having sacrificed himself to protect his family from harm.
Yet, there was an undeniable jolt of fear that reverberated within him: the sheer swiftness of death's approach in his life. Only twenty-one years old—barely stepping into adulthood—he found it surreal that his journey could be so abruptly cut short.
What truly haunted him, however, was the cascade of moments he would miss. The thought of not being there to witness the delicate transformations of his children as they grew up filled him with a deep sense of loss. He imagined their first time at Hogwarts, their laughter echoing through their home, the milestones that marked their journeys into adulthood—all of it slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
He envisioned friends gathered around him during family gatherings, the simple joy of sharing meals, the warmth of laughter, and the comforting embrace of companionship that came with aging. Those small, yet profound moments that stitched their lives together were treasures he would never get to experience.
The acceptance of his fate was eclipsed by the overwhelming sorrow for the life left unlived, the dreams unfulfilled, and the love that would never fully blossom. This pain, the ache of knowing everything he would miss, weighed on him far more heavily than the idea of death itself.
The glow of the screen abruptly dimmed, and the view shifted to reveal two ten-year-olds, Amaryllis and Harry, peacefully lost in their dreams. Harry's small hand was protectively clasped around Amaryllis's, a silent gesture of sibling bond.
They were nestled together in their cramped quarters—a cupboard tucked beneath the stairs, the space barely big enough for both to stretch out comfortably. The light from outside the door flickered on, casting a pale illumination that crept inside, highlighting the makeshift bed they had fashioned from worn blankets and discarded pillows.
"A CUPBOARD!" The shout echoed through the hall, punctuated by gasps of disbelief and outrage. The loudest voice belonged to the Potter family, their faces twisted in indignation. James felt a knot of despair tighten in his chest as he witnessed the grim start to the twins' lives unfold before his eyes.
