❝She wore her scars as her best attire, a stunning dress of hellfire.❞
In a world where children are orphaned by dark wizards and destinies are bestowed upon the most unlikely of people, Lily Potter II must choose between what is good and what is ri...
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SIRIUS BLACK KNEW that his best friend, James Potter was looking down on him as he processed the scene in front of him. And oh god, how James was shaking his head, conjuring up a few dozen unkindly names for the godfather of his children. Although they were not the only ones in the room, Sirius and Lily Potter were most definitely the center of the attention, unfortunately for the most uncanny of ways. There Lily stood before them, him, covered in blood that was not all her own. In all of their years, it was the first time anyone had seen the infamous Marauder become silent.
James and Lily Potter were turning over in their graves.
Ever since he and his twin sister, Lily Rose Potter, encounter Lord Voldemort again in his full form only months previous, he had changed. He had become easily agitated, snarky and enraged, even. It was entirely not in his nature and he did not know if his sister was enduring the same changes, for he had not seen her since a week after summer vacation had started. Lily had promised to return as soon as she could and in the meanwhile, she would keep it touch.
She had only sent two letters by owl.
Of course, both letters were both unspecific to her whereabouts and what she was doing. They mostly were just to reassure him that she was alright, but that was all. The last letter came almost a month past. It worried him, but more so, angered him. How dare she be so selfish as to leave him alone with the Dursleys once again; leaving him to face with the PTSD aftermath of Cedric Diggory's death and the knowledge of Voldemort's return. He wanted to tell at her, to tell her how selfish and conceited she was for only caring about herself. He wanted to--
And that is exactly how enraged he could become in seconds.
Deep down, past his uncalled anger, Harry was grateful for his dear sister. After all, in the graveyard after Voldemort's uprising, she had unleashed her dark side on him -- a part of her he knew for a fact that she hated, that she feared. Not to mention she also saved his arse numerous times in the bloody Triwizard tournament and saved him from Barry Crouch Jr.'s wrath. The last was the past, however, and he feared their future would be even worse.
Or at least, his own future.
Replaying the horrid events of the Triwizard tournament in his mind, Harry Potter sat on the only unbroken, swaying back and forth all on his lonesome. A little ways away, the residences of Privet Drive were lined up identically and on porch of the house next to the Dursleys, old Mrs. Figg sat on her porch. The elderly woman had babysat Harry countless times when the Dursleys wanted to get rid of them for a while. To his obliviousness, Mrs. Cuffs was watching him, and had even adjusted her rocking chair to keep a better eye on him.
When Harry became too tangled within the trap of his own thoughts, memories; his mind, such as replaying Cedric's death or Voldemort's return in his head, he could only find one escape. He would conjure up a mirage of his sister in his head and actually found comfort in it. When she appeared in his bedroom the first time, she was awaking him from a horrid nightmare. He was more than upset when he discovered she wasn't, in fact, real and was anything but a hallucination. And she always showed at the most opportune times.
