Chapter 1

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Also, I have to say when I started writing this as a 12-year-old, I wasn't very original and very much so took the concept of lilybrookes fan fiction. I apologize for my stupid sixth-grade self who fell in love with this idea and took off with it. Thank you.

It was a quiet day in the orphanage, one of those Saturdays where no one gets adopted, not that I was expecting to. I knew that no one wanted me, a lesson that I wished I had learned sooner.

I have been back and forth, jumping between foster homes. The only reasons they really want me in their home is for the food discount they get when they home a foster child. But, no matter how much I tried they always sent me back to this orphanage. I learned to grow used to the colorless walls and rooms and the sad faces of children.
The worst thing about living in the orphanage was the crying in the nights, the ones who have been sent back and realized that they, too, were unwanted.

"Lily Potter, get down here right now!" Mrs. Swung yelled up the stairs, her voice carrying to my small room. "A man is here to see you!" she called yet again.

Gosh, give me two seconds, will you? She blames us kids at the orphanage for her husband's death. But no, she should blame herself for his death. She was the one who sent him out of the house when he promptly got hit by a car. She is always bitter; she hated herself and took it out on us kids.

I pushed the scratchy sheets off of me and closed my favorite book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and began to head downstairs.

I hated Mrs. Swung, she never stopped drinking. My morning job here is to open her whiskey bottles; she is too weak and drunk to do it herself. But that lack of soberness never stopped her from hitting us.

A man with a long white beard is there waiting for me. I catch my breath, this man looks exactly like how I would imagine the book character Albus Dumbledore. But, alas, I knew he was fiction, along with all the Harry Potter Characters I loved. The man did resemble Dumbledore: he had a long white beard, twinkling eyes that looked through half-moon spectacles and a crooked nose.

"Finally, you ungrateful creature! It took you long enough! Mr. AL is here to talk with you," Mrs. Swung sneered at me, motioning towards the baseball bat she used to hit us with, sending me the message to behave. She could have been a Death Eater in my books, but it was highly unlikely the old bat would be accepted in Voldemort's ranks.

I learned that when a man or woman comes to chat with you, it could be one of two things. He could be here to send me to a different orphanage since this one was filling up or he could be here to try to get some information on my unknown parents.

All I knew about my parents was that they died in a house fire or something. I was just dropped here with nothing but a small piece of paper with my name on it: Lily Potter.

I felt my name was too old for me, it didn't suit me. I didn't know who I was here, I never had time to become a person with an original personality.

Mr. AL and I headed up stairs to my sorry excuse for a room. The sun shown brightly into the dirty room. The room was small, but big enough to have some free movement. The only furniture items I had were a broken mirror, a dresser and a fold-up bed. There was one window, that gave a view to the street bellow. Often times I wished that the view was a green forest, not the polluted streets of London. When Mr. AL looked around my room, his eyes seemed to loose their twinkle. I folded up my bed for more room.

"It's not much but it's all they have for unwanted kids," I explain to him. When you reach this age, it's all they have for you.

"Its fine, Lily. Now, what do you remember anything from before you were brought to the orphanage?"

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