❝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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HOPE AT HOGWARTS was like silk – lovely to have but made with a fluidity like water so that it slips easily from touch. Lily ignored the faint aches in her stomach, the jumbling in her brain; she watched as the students of Hogwarts marched down the main staircases in pursuit of the Great Hall. They marched in compact and orderly group, silent, each step taken in sync. This wasn't Hogwarts, not anymore. August and Draco pulled Lily away from the opening in the storage closet, which she remembered to be hidden behind third painting from the stairs. No one else knew she was alive and those who did wouldn't breathe a word of it. After all, the Headmaster was not summoning them for the younger Potter twin, but for Harry Potter. She was thought to be dead. She was dead. Then she woke up. The thought made her want to laugh.
She couldn't think properly. She couldn't formulate a proper sentence without stuttering. She was physically worn down and jumped at Draco's mere touch as he pulled her out of sight. She was broken and yet she returned by choice. How was this peace?
"Snape knows... he knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade." August breathed. Her godbrother changed a lot since she last saw him. His dark hair was shaved close to his scalp, he was muscular, he seemed at peace.
"He w-won't be a-able to hold up h-his cover, his c-over, for long." Lily whispered, shutting her eyes out of frustration. Draco hated it. He hated watching her close her eyes like that because he was afraid she'd go to sleep again – she wasn't sleeping, Draco. Get it together.
When the last of the students entered the Great Hall, the Deatheaters and staff followed until the stairs and corridors were desolate. Then like the old Lily, she emerged from hiding and walked down the stairs in plain sight. The boys followed.
"Are you mad?!...." August began, but faltered when he realized what he said. She was mad. She wasn't a psychotic maniac, but she was emotionally, physically and most of all mentally scarred. Lily only spared him a glance.
"YOU THERE! STOP!" A Deatheater shouted from behind. Lily waved her hand without looking and the man erupted into flames, soon reducing to nothing but ash.
The unusual trio found shelter in the nearest classroom where Peeves the Poltergeist just so happened to be. He looked up and gaped at Lily, "Little lady Potter," Lily winced at hearing that nickname. Bellatrix called her that. "You're dead!"
"Surprise," Lily replied, with a bored glint in her mad eyes, "D-Do you like sur-surprises, Peeves?" Peeves stared at her for a moment and then grinned.
Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, the staff and students stood stiffly in their positions as Headmaster Snape glowered over them from the professors' platform. The tables were gone, the flags were gone; all that remained were bleachers on opposite sides of the hall – but no one dared to sit on them.
