The Chance of Falling

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Party outfit attached.

--

*Lilah POV*

I ran over Remus' words in my head, repeating them over and over again as I examined the possible outcomes. I knew that he was right – he always was. There was no point in knowing the future if I couldn't change it.

Harry could grow up with his parents. With James and I.

Maybe I could live past twenty-one.

Maybe I would be able to grow up with my mother by my side.

Maybe Voldemort can be killed before he terrorises the Wizarding World for the second time.

So many maybe's, the real predicament though is if I'll be able to emerge victorious.

Maybe I wouldn't.

But maybe, just maybe, I could succeed.

I sat down by the lake, the cool snow having transformed into that of a chilly breeze as winter was finally coming to an end. My scarf was wrapped tightly around my neck, proudly displaying the roaring red and glittering gold. I twiddled with my quill, staring down at the empty page as I scrambled my brain for possible action.

What can I do to change the future?

The first thing that comes to mind – Peter. It was crazy how one cowardly rat could have such a large impact, especially on those that once cared about him.

He is the reason why Sirius was – will be sent to Azkaban. He is the reason why my son will grow up in a neglectful and intolerable household. He is the reason why the love of my life is murdered and he too will be my own downfall.

I had previously warned Dumbledore of my knowledge, pleading for him to do something, ­anything. He refused, claiming that a shift in the timeline is fragile and it is not to be messed with.

I knew better though, despite his claims to nobility and honesty, the man always had a cunning and deceiving plan up his sleeve. I didn't trust him; I could not rely on his help in the attempt to save my family.

I left the lake that day with my first goal in setting the future right – Peter had to be eliminated.

--

"You alright?" James called as he raced to a quick stop beside me, glancing at me in worry as he kept his eye out for the snitch.

"Yes James, I'm fine," I laughed, swinging the beaters bat in my hand, speeding to hit the bludger away from Frank Longbottom and towards the Slytherin captain – Marcus Flint.

As cute as James' incessant worry was over my wellbeing, it could be hard to handle at times – especially if it's during one of the biggest quidditch games of the season. I did adore it though; there was almost nothing more important than Quidditch to the Gryffindor captain and for him to even pause on his quest for even a moment conveyed how important I was to him.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" The announcer exclaimed.

I grinned over at Sirius, flying past him as I knocked the bludger out of his path.

"And I thought that you were supposed to be the best beater Gryffindor has seen in the last decade?" I teased, tossing the bat in my hand as I surveyed the open area.

"You little git," Sirius barked, laughing wildly as he raced off to protect one of the Prewett twins from the incoming bludger as the ginger-haired man tucked the quaffle underneath the crook of his arm.