Art does not belong to the author.
Warning for mature language and themes, reccomend not reading if under thirteen
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For as long as she could remember, Alarya Lily Potter had been utterly enchanted with the stars.
The night sky was limitless, resplendent, bewitching. She had always loved the knowledge that the stars were always there - not always visible, yet they never left. It was a comforting thought. The sun, to Alarya, had always been a symbol of new beginnings: the constant rising and setting a reflection of the impermanence of life, and a reminder that before she could bask in the intricacy of the starry night, she would first have to say goodbye to the complacency of the sun's presence.
There was just something so familiar about the stars, something so comforting. She would look up, and all her problems would feel so insignificant... she would look up, and suddenly feel like she was not alone.
It was nice, the comfort - a very rare concept in the life of the Chosen One.
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James Potter rested his daughter on his lap. Alarya giggled infectiously and made to grab his glasses, but he moved and blew a raspberry at her, only making her giggle more.
Lily Potter-Evans leant against the doorframe of their cottage in Godrics hollow with a fond smile adorning her face. It was rare, these moments of bliss, for the Dark Lord Voldemort's reign of terror was threatening to overwhelm them. Only a few weeks prior had they found several pieces of Benji Fenwick.
The smile slipped off her face.
They were being hunted.
And she could no longer see a way out of it.
Almost sensing her morbid thoughts, Alarya and James both turned to face her. James' hair was black and as chaotic as he was in his school years. His eyes were a deep blue, square glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
Like James, Alarya had deep blue eyes. She had several freckles scattered across her nose, sweet, heart shaped lips and full rosy cheeks. Her hair was red, just like Lily's, and fortunately for their baby, it was actually tameable.
"Love?" James asked gently. Alarya cooed softly at her mum.
"I'm okay." Lily responded to the unspoken question, before moving into the room and sitting down next to her husband. She lifted a finger and stroked Alarya's cheek, who giggled again.
"Mama"
Lily beamed, while James looked hopeful. "Can you say Dada?"
"Pafoo!"
Lily stifled a snort.
"No, not pafoo, dada."
"Moomy"
"Dada"
"Womy"
"Dada."
Alarya blew a raspberry.
YOU ARE READING
Enchanted - HP/LoTR
Fanfiction* UNDERGOING RE-WRITE * Re-written chapters: 1, Alarya Lily Potter; The girl who lived; the witch who won; alongside a multitude of other names which over the years she lost track of (Ron, however, kept a book full of them). Vivid red hair, piercing...
