The Other Potter. Book Four.

Not quite existing.

I just want to say.

You know that I’m Willow.

You know I’m practically immortal.

What you – and I for that matter – don’t know, is what the actual hell is going on here.

Last thing I remember is Voldemort killing me, but I don’t seem to be dead.

It seems that I’m in a room.

It’s a white room.

There’s a desk sitting underneath a window; a bookshelf was full of books I had never heard of; I sat on a white quilted bed. The oddest thing I saw were pictures of me in frames with other people; people I didn’t know; but I was smiling, like I knew and loved them.

This is weird.

This is like a weird version of heaven.

A sucky version of heaven.

I mean, my heaven would just be a shitload of food.

A door across from me opened, and a man entered. I recognised him at once.

“D-dad?” I heard myself say.

“I am not your father.” The man said. “This was simply the figure chosen to greet you.”

“Alright-y then.” I said awkwardly. When the man didn’t continue, I spoke again. “Greet me for what?”

“I’m here to offer you a different course in life.” he told me. “You, Willow, have been taken before your time. And I must beg for you to reconsider this world.” He stopped abruptly, but there was no reason for him to.

“What do you mean?”

“You have a choice. Continue in this world where you will find certain death, or be thrust into a new world. A new life. You will have no recollection of this past life. You will be given new memories, as you are wiped from the memories of this life.” He paused and looked at me. “This is your choice. Die. Or be given a second chance.”

Clockwork went off in my mind and it was hard for me to comprehend.

“But I’d be the same right? Like the past wouldn’t re-write itself; it would just be modified to not include me.”

“Precisely.” I saw a flash of red light in his eyes as he spoke.

“But why?”

“You were taken before your time-“

“No. I wasn’t. Why?” I raised my eye-brows at him, and watched as he fought the urge to give in.

“You weren’t meant to be in the world. You were meant to remain unknown. That was the plan.” He told me, looking around worriedly. “First, on your first Halloween, you were supposed to die alongside your parents, and the world would have no knowledge of you. However you escaped, you weren’t supposed to. We – they – had to change their plans. They had to make everything different. So you came across Narcissa Malfoy.” He paused and listened for a moment, before continuing in a hushed voice. “Willow, you were supposed to be hidden in Malfoy Manor, but somehow a signal was sent out. Dumbledore knew you were alive. They sent out a small group from the ministry to track you down when you were eleven- technically ten. The ministry of magic searches for signals such as that, and send out the unspeakables to find you. That’s how you were brought into Hogwarts. I bet no one has ever spoken to you about it.”

I stared at the man; the man resembling my father, and tried to understand what he was telling me.

“So, umm, Voldemort was meant to kill me when I was born. I wasn’t meant to live. Ever. But I did. And then I was meant to stay secretly existing at the Malfoy’s. But, err, I couldn’t do that right either, and I sent out a signal. And the ‘unspeakables’ tracked the signal and found me.” I tried to break it down into basic words, and failed.