The Other Potter: Book 6

WHAT THE ACTUAL WHAT NO WAY WHAT

Dear Reader,

The following chapter is severely deep. If you are in a good mood, I wouldn’t read it. Wait until you’re either depressed or also feeling deep. I bet you’ll read it if you’re in a good mood anyway, because you’re a sad case.

Loving you, for being yourself, Lucy.

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As Friday turned into Saturday, I waited in the darkness outside, because August was still a no-show. I pondered over various thoughts, and came to the conclusion that my existence doesn’t even make sense.

I mean, there isn’t supposed to be another Potter. There was James, who married Lily, and had Harry, who defeated Voldemort. There wasn’t room for another Potter. The other Potter. There was nothing else incredible for the Potter’s to do. Two sacrifices and one saviour. What was the point of a sister? I should have been left to rot in the basement of Malfoy Manor. It was nicer there. Safer. I knew what would happen to me every day, and it made sense. Now life is unpredictable....

I mean...

I could read Harry’s thoughts for a while, but that went away.

I had surprisingly good luck for a while, but that went away.

My intuition was amazing for a while, but that went away.

My cat could speak to me for a while, but that went away.

I was a mermaid for a while, but that went away.

I sort of feel as though I’m a chess piece and someone’s just moving me around; shaping my life. I feel as though my whole life is a lie and strange things happen just to keep me moving in the direction they want me too. I’m being prodded and pulled into the place I need to be in at an exact time; I’m forced along a particular path, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

This morning I feel as though I’m not a Potter, or a Malfoy, or even a Tree. I just feel like nothingness. A giant blob of nothingness.

And suddenly a voice whispered inside my head, and I know that I’ve heard it before, but I don’t remember when, or who it belongs to.

 What happened to the little girl with the tangled hair?

The voice whispers through my mind, and it takes me back to when I first came here, when everything was so simple but seemed so mysterious and difficult. When my hair was tangled and wild when I’d wake up and Hermione would fix it for me.

I know what happened to the little girl.

The little Willow, without a last name.

She died a long time ago, and I haven’t been able to accept it.

I don’t know how my innocence died. And it has nothing to do with the Malfoy’s or the Potter’s all or my history. She got lost. She died. Along with the things I once valued; trust, love, hope, faith. It’s all gone. I don’t know who I am anymore.

I don’t know what I’ve become.

I’m probably just going to go fall off the Quidditch stands.

It would do everyone a favour.

I’m so depressed.

“Morning,” Said a deep voice next to me, and I nearly shat myself as I found a random Auror standing there.

“Hi.” I said softly.

“What are you doing out here at this time?” the man said, crossing his arms in annoyance.