❝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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HER LIPS WERE petals of flame against the icy, bruised fingers of her lost love. Lily Potter felt everything and nothing at the same time; the world had folded in on her and she was suffocating but she didn't know if she ever wanted to breathe air into her lungs ever again. Let me die first or I will die twice, he had said. Well now I'm dying, Fred, can't you see? George was caterwauling beside his brother, punching the rubble with no regards for his fists as his knuckles split, as they opened and gushed red – and it was because he felt nothing. His body didn't hurt, his soul did and he'd rather be tortured mindlessly than think his brother would never be with him again.
No one dared to approach the acclivity where the sight of war was at its very worst. Mrs. Weasley had collapsed, held up only by her husband. A Deatheater decided to take it upon himself to resume the fighting, but his wand barely left his side when he screamed and collapsed to the floor. Lily was standing like an angel of death, glowering over him with a madness worse than in the eyes of the Dark Lord himself. "GET OUT!"
"Down with the Potter bitc–!"
"GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT NOW BEFORE I BURN YOU ALL ALIVE!" Because she would. She would scorch herself and all that she knew in a madness akin to wildfire because she had nothing to lose. She dropped to her knees and entwined Fred's limo hand within her own, glaring murderously at the intruders of her home, "IF YOU THOUGHT VOLDEMORT WAS A NIGHTMARE, YOU HAVE NOT SEEN MY WRATH!" and then as loudly as if she was using sonophorus, "GET OUT!!!"
But the Deatheaters remained where they stood, unafraid and daring, because they were not done playing the game. The Weasley King was down and the Potter Queen was as good as – the pawns were winning. Wrong. Lily knelt over Fred and wept over him, laying her head onto his stomach and draping her arms around him. In the blur of tears and haze of rage which blinded her, she saw the outline of a familiar figure. But she knew very well that he was dead because she just witnessed it; a mirage of Severus Snape kneeled across her and watched her with saddened eyes. She was surely insane now.
"Oh, my dear, how does it feel," he whispered, caressing her hair with his hand. The outline of his figure of blurred, reminded her much of the memory of Tom Riddle, "losing the best thing that ever happened to you?"
Everything for Lily went quiet, dying along with her own heart. Her tears leaked through the crevices of her eyes and she stared out at someone who might've been Bill. Nothing mattered anymore. She barely registered George's hand brushing over hers as he went through the denial phase, shaking his brother in attempts to awaken him.
"It hurts."
"Then do something about it." he told her. She could follow her threats through – she wanted it enough. She could murdered all of them and barely bat an eye – "– No, you are not a monster..." he sighed, "My dear Lily, you are the thing that every nightmare fears: you're proof that morning comes."
