Harry Potter and the Bucket List

Pre-School 1

Impossible.

Impossible.

I tried to think back on my previous actions. I tried, desperately, to remember past the pain.

My head throbbed sharply for a second, causing my brow to furrow as I winced.

Then I remembered.

I died.

I died. I know I did. There was no possible way for me to have survived what had happened. I was in my third year of medical school, I knew it was impossible for me to have survived. It was perfect. It was a perfect death. I knew I died. I had to have died.

Then pain.

So how was I here?

I died—but now I'm alive?

I was—

I mean.

I was reborn?

How?

Why?

I was no one special. I was a groomed child who did everything right. I wasn't mean to anyone. I had no grudges. I went to prep school, boarding school, absolutely everything my high-powered lawyer mother had me do. After graduating from high school with many university classes under my belt, I tested in early to medical school and did everything expected of me. I studied. I pulled all-nighters. I worked long shifts at a chance for more experience. I practiced my sutures religiously.

I did everything right, so why do I have to go through it all again?

I didn't want that. That would be a special kind of hell if I had to do it all again.

Wasn't death supposed to be the end?

(Never)

"Rosie?"

My gaze turned to the front door of the room as the door slowly creaked open. A woman entered with startlingly bright green eyes and a halo of dark red hair. She approached me, her gaze warm and loving as she looked at me. There was a hopeful light in her eyes and her lips slowly upturned. "Rosie? Are you feeling better, sweetie?"

I didn't know what to say. Hesitantly, I reached towards her, stretching my tiny fingers up in the sky.

Her eyes watered, and she swooped down and picked me up with ease. "Oh. Oh, my sweet little flower. Is the pain gone? James! James!"

My vision is remarkably good for being a baby. How is it even physically possible to have all the memories in the brain of a baby?

Then a man appeared at the doorway as the woman held me close and began to kiss my forehead and cheek. James, I assumed, had shaggy dark hair and deep blue eyes behind round glasses. A strong sense of familiarity hit me upon seeing him.

In his arms was a baby—perhaps three weeks, I would guess—who was sound asleep. "Lily? What's—Rosie isn't crying anymore?"

Lily was crying quietly by that point, kissing me over and over. "She's safe now. She didn't hit the one-month mark. Her magic finally stopped building in her head."

Magic? Wait... Lily? James?

No way.

James choked back a sob as he stepped towards us and—and placed the baby in his arms in the middle of the air.

I stared in shock at the floating baby before James pulled us both into his arms and began to kiss Lily and I each on our cheeks. "I knew she would be okay. I knew it. Our little rose is as tough as they come."