Lilith and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
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Born on the same fateful night as her twin brother, Harry, Lilith Eva Potter is no stranger to the weight of a famous name. But at Hogwar...
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Scotland, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 16th March, 1991
It was a crisp Saturday afternoon, and the Hogwarts grounds were blanketed in a thick layer of snow. The Fountain Courtyard was bustling with activity as students laughed and played, their faces flushed from the cold. Lilith, along with Ron, Hermione, and Harry, had just finished lunch and found themselves standing in the snowy courtyard, killing time before the much-anticipated Quidditch match.
Harry, however, wasn't feeling the excitement as much as the others. His green eyes, usually so full of life, were clouded with nerves. After all, Snape was refereeing the game. The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine, and it wasn't just from the cold. Everyone knew how much Snape despised Gryffindor, and Harry was sure the Potions Master would do anything to ensure Hufflepuff's victory that day.
Lilith noticed the tightness in Harry's expression, the way his shoulders hunched forward, and how his lips were pressed into a thin line. She stepped closer, gently rubbing circles on his back in a soothing motion. "You'll do amazing, Harry. Just like last time," she murmured softly, offering him a comforting smile.
Harry nodded, though he remained silent. His stomach was a tight knot of anxiety, and he was too nauseous to even manage a proper response. He trusted his sister's words, but the weight of Snape's looming presence on the Quidditch field made it hard to focus on anything else.
Ron, standing nearby and bundled up in his scarf and gloves, tried to lighten the mood. "Snape or no Snape, you've got this. Remember, they've got nothing on you when it comes to catching the Snitch. Just keep your eye on that golden ball and forget the rest." His voice was enthusiastic, though there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.
Hermione chimed in, her logical side always trying to offer some balance. "It's true. There's no point worrying about what Snape might do. Focus on the game, not the referee. You're the best Seeker out there, Harry."
Harry took a deep breath, trying to let their words sink in. He appreciated their efforts, but the anxiety still gnawed at him. The last time Snape was involved in a Quidditch match, Harry had nearly fallen off his broom—he wasn't about to forget that.
As they lingered in the courtyard, the snow continued to fall gently around them. Lilith glanced at Harry again, her heart aching to see her brother like this. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "Listen, Harry. I know Snape is terrifying, but you've faced worse. You've already proven yourself on that broom. Just think about the thrill of the chase, not about who's watching."
Harry looked up at her, finally meeting her gaze, and for the first time that afternoon, he managed a small smile. "Thanks, Lily," he said quietly, his voice a little less strained. "I'll try."
