"Are you okay?" Harry's voice cut through Y/N's reverie, a lifeline from the present that yanked her back from the depths of memory.
Her gaze refocused, breaking free from the distance, her expression a mix of daze and disarray. With a quick inhale, she cleared her throat, subtly adjusting her posture – a physical attempt to gather herself.
"I'm... fine," Y/N's response was soft, her words carrying a delicate timbre hinting at lingering emotions beneath the surface. Her fingers smoothed her robes, a fleeting unease she couldn't shake.
"Really? You looked a bit—" Harry started, curiosity and care in his voice.
"I said I'm fine!" Y/N's reaction was swift, a scrunch of her nose and a hint of defensiveness in her tone.
Yet, her anger faded as quickly as it had sparked, replaced by a wave of remorse. Y/N's eyes softened, a subtle change in her demeanor as she recognized the abruptness of her words.
"Sorry," she murmured, her voice tinged with contrition. "Just... remembered a bad memory," she explained, offering insight into her thoughts.
"Oh, it's... alright. What brings you here, though?" Harry asked, his hands naturally finding a place behind his back, a casual stance belying his genuine interest.
"I was actually looking for you," Y/N admitted, her words carrying purpose that hinted at underlying concern.
Harry's mouth opened, brows gently lifting in surprise. Y/N's statement caught him off guard momentarily, though curiosity soon overtook his initial astonishment.
"Why?" he asked, curiosity and intrigue coloring his tone.
"Just checking up on you. You've been acting a bit off," Y/N observed, her voice straightforward, a blend of frankness and concern in her words.
Harry's brows furrowed, a mix of confusion and surprise crossing his features. While Y/N was his friend, they hadn't shared an intimate closeness or a wealth of shared experiences.
The realization of her concern sparked internal curiosity – why was she taking this extra step to inquire about his well-being? The fact that Y/N hadn't shown this level of care to his closest friend, Aurora, added to the mystery. An air of vulnerability tinged Harry's response, his words accompanied by a slight downward glance.
"Oh, I'm... fine," Harry murmured, reassurance and uncertainty woven into his voice. His gaze, however, avoided Y/N's, a subtle detail speaking volumes about his complex emotions.
But Y/N never shied away from addressing the heart of matters. Her words held an almost deadpan quality, a directness that sliced through the air.
"It's about your parents, right? Ron mentioned it," Y/N stated matter-of-factly, her knowledge catching Harry off guard.
Harry's response stumbled out, a reflection of the emotions knotting within him. His gaze locked with Y/N's, an unspoken connection that rendered complete sentences unnecessary.
"I... how do you—" Harry began, the question left hanging as their gazes remained entwined. "Why does it matter to you?" The query held sincerity, surprise and curiosity intertwined.
"My mom was friends with your parents," Y/N revealed, her words carrying a sense of history that lingered in the backdrop. As the pieces fell into place, Harry's mouth fell open, his surprise evident as their connection started to take shape.
"Can I show you something?" Harry's voice was a quiet invitation, his request punctuated by a sense of anticipation.
Y/N's nod was both affirmative and curious, her agreement paving the way for what was to come. Harry gestured for her to follow him, their footsteps echoing down the corridor as they embarked on a journey of shared discovery.
A brief silence wrapped around them, a quiet companionship acknowledging the unspoken understanding that had just transpired. They entered a vast room, its expanse unveiled by the gentle push of massive doors. Moonlight adorned the space with its splendor, casting a gentle blue tint upon the room's features. Pillars and columns stood in solemn homage to the history they bore.
Among all this, Y/N's attention was drawn to a particular object – a mirror framed with golden elegance. Its presence held intrigue, a centerpiece that appeared to safeguard its own secrets.
"What's that?" Y/N's inquiry was soft, curiosity urging her to take a step forward. Meanwhile, Harry positioned himself in front of the mirror, his posture slightly hunched as he clasped his knees, a contemplative aura about him.
"Look at your reflection, closely," Harry's instruction was both a challenge and an invitation, his voice gently insistent. Y/N followed suit, her gaze shifting to her own reflection within the mirror's surface. Yet, as her eyes met the glass, a sense of bewilderment settled within her.
"I only see us," Y/N murmured, sharing her initial observation. Harry's swift response was a gentle shake of his head, indicating a different perspective.
"Focus," Harry encouraged, determination lacing his voice, bridging the gap between the visual and the felt. Enchantment filled the space between them, the mirror a conduit to a shared experience holding the potential for deeper understanding.
In an instant, the mirror's surface transformed into a canvas of revelations. Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her reflection, and an unusual sight unfolded. Amid the mirror's ethereal glow stood her father.
Y/N's brows knitted in confusion, eyes narrowing as she tried to comprehend this surreal apparition. Before she could grasp the sight, her mother's form materialized beside her father. They stood together as if bound by an invisible thread.
The effect was eerie, the presence of both parents in the mirror casting an uncanny spell over the room. Y/N turned, scanning the room for her parents' physical forms, finding them absent. It was a jarring contrast – their reflection in the mirror versus their absence in reality.
Returning her focus to the mirror, Y/N's eyes widened as the scene played out in vivid detail. Her parents, once emotionally distant, were now united in this spectral realm. Holding hands, exhibiting an unfamiliar tenderness, their gestures testified to their deep connection.
Y/N's mouth slightly fell open, the visual contradiction momentarily overpowering her awareness. Harry's voice punctuated the silence, his question guiding her through the enigmatic scene before her.
"What do you see?" Harry inquired, his tone laced with a mix of curiosity and wonder.
"My parents," Y/N's response was delivered in a state of blank disbelief. She tilted her head, her brows knitting together in thought.
Why were they acting so affectionate? The divorce had been a defining factor in her understanding of their relationship. Yet here, in the mirror's reflection, that understanding seemed to crumble under the weight of this unexpected portrayal.
"I don't know what it does... but its reflection is different for everyone," Harry confessed, his words a reflection of his own uncertainty. Y/N eased herself down to sit beside him, her gaze returning to the mirror where her parents' images remained locked in a state of lovey-dovey harmony.
As Y/N continued to observe the mirage of her parents' affectionate display, a bittersweet nostalgia began to weave itself through her thoughts.
The sight of them entwined in such tenderness was a reminder of the love that had once existed between them. It was a sight she hadn't seen in ages, a memory that seemed both distant and vivid in the same breath.
"Mom told me," Y/N murmured, her voice a bridge between the past and the present. Harry turned to look at her, his gaze curious and attentive, awaiting the revelation that lay in her words.
"Told you what?" Harry's question was accompanied by a genuine inquisitiveness, his interest piqued by the fragment of conversation he had just heard. Y/N's hand found its way into her pocket, a gesture that carried the promise of something more.
"Your parents, Lily and James?" Y/N's murmur held a note of affirmation, a confirmation that she was referring to the very parents who had shaped Harry's existence. Harry nodded, his response an invitation for her to continue.
"They used to be friends, best friends, actually," Y/N's words unveiled a tapestry of connections that spanned generations, her voice carrying a sense of history that stretched far beyond their current circumstances.
"Our parents fought alongside each other in the war," she revealed, the weight of those words resonating in the space between them.
"Why are you telling me this?" Harry's voice held a touch of wonder, a question that sought to unearth the motives behind Y/N's revelation.
"I think you deserve to know," Y/N's responded.
"I don't know how it feels like to not have parents, but I know how it feels like to not have a father, and... that already makes me feel empty. I couldn't imagine how you feel," her words were spoken with a raw vulnerability.
Harry's expression softened, his guard momentarily lowered by Y/N's empathetic words. "I dunno, I just got used to it, you know?" he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a blend of introspection and uncertainty.
Y/N's response was a gentle murmur, a shift in her posture that conveyed a moment of contemplation. Propping herself up on her hands, she looked up as if seeking answers from the roof.
"I just feel like... I can relate to you, in a way, you know?" Her admission was candid, a rare glimpse into her inner thoughts. Her hand emerged from her pocket, holding something precious between her fingers.
"Mom gave me this," she whispered, her voice carrying a mixture of fondness and nostalgia. As the object came into view, it revealed itself to be a photograph – a frozen moment in time that encapsulated a memory shared between generations.
"It came with a letter," Y/N added, her words carrying a note of intrigue as she held up another piece of paper.
The photograph she displayed depicted a youthful Lily and James, their joy evident as they clinked bottles of butterbeer, while Amaryllis stood beside them. Meanwhile, the letter in Y/N's hand was sealed with a vibrant red emblem, a seal that seemed to hold within it the promise of untold stories.
"Open it," Y/N urged, her tone conveying the shared excitement of delving into the contents of the letter. Harry nodded in response, carefully breaking the seal and unfolding the paper to reveal the words that had been preserved within it.
✴✴✴✴✴
To my dearest, Amaryllis,
It's been quite a while since we last saw each other, although you know that's not entirely true. Today's date is July 20, 2005.
I'm on the brink of labor – an exciting and daunting time. Are you still willing to be Harry's Godmother? I'm a bit uncertain about making Caspian a Godparent, though. Please keep that between us.
Unfortunately, the signal here is a mess; my phone refuses to cooperate. Hence, I'm putting pen to paper to share this with you. I trust life is treating you well in America. Relocating there seems to have been the right decision, a step toward brighter horizons.
P.S : You should pass along to Y/N that James playfully refers to her as a 'sneaky little princess.'
Speaking of Y/N, I hope she's thriving. It must be her first birthday now, right? It's interesting to think that she and Harry will both set foot into Hogwarts at the same age. One can only hope that their journey at the magical school will bring them camaraderie. James and I find ourselves missing you greatly. Once this period of uncertainty is over, I envision us coming together for a heartwarming cup of butterbeer!
Warm regards,
Lily Potter
✴✴✴✴✴
"Wait, so we're Godsiblings?" Harry's voice held a mix of surprise and realization, his eyes meeting Y/N's as he sought confirmation. Y/N responded with a nod, affirming the newfound connection that had been unearthed through the words of the letter.
"Yeah, I've heard about the Dursleys'," Y/N murmured, her gaze drifting slightly as her thoughts brushed against the memory of the Dursleys, a family she had heard about through Harry by various stories and accounts.
"You know..." Y/N's voice took on a more contemplative tone as she continued, her words carrying a hint of vulnerability.
"I reckon Mom wouldn't mind putting our spare room to use." The hushed words held a touch of suggestion, a tentative offer extended to Harry. It was as if the walls of secrecy and formality that had separated their lives were beginning to crumble, revealing a potential path forward.
Harry's eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and gratitude, the idea of a spare room in Y/N's home holding the promise of a different kind of family connection.
"You'd really?" Harry's voice was laced with a sense of hope, his disbelief mingling with a newfound sense of belonging.
Y/N's response was swift, her actions mirroring her words. She got up from her seat, her movements seemingly casual yet charged with significance.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter," she replied, her tone playfully dismissive as she turned on her heels. Her words were a well-crafted facade, hiding a smile that danced at the corners of her lips.
Harry watched Y/N's retreating figure, his heart buoyed by the unspoken offer and the warmth that had colored their conversation. As Y/N walked away, her actions spoke louder than her words, conveying a sense of connection that was beginning to transcend the boundaries of their past.
TO BE CONTINUED...