A Fresh Bouquet

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Prologue

I never wanted to be reborn. When I'd died at the ripe old age of twenty, I'd been quite happy to go off to heaven, or whatever other afterlife was out there.

I died from my injures in a mass pile-up on the M4. I guess it'd have been a spectacular thing to witness, car after car crashing into one another, but all I got was a face-full of glass and many, many broken bones. My parents, whom had been sat in the front of the car, died instantly upon the collision, and my younger brother died when the car behind of us didn't slam on his brakes quick enough. My older brother died much like me, from his injuries in hospital.

I was the last to go, and I honestly didn't mind. My entire family was dead, I didn't really have much else to live for other than a half finished philosophy degree and the substantial amount of debt that came with said higher education. I was expecting to leave it all behind when my eyes slid shut and I made the decision to stop fighting, to just accept my fate.

I wasn't expecting to wake up.

Or at least, not in the way I did.

.

At first, I thought I was waking up in the hospital again, only that the heating had broken down so that the English winter could cheerfully invade my ward. However, it only took me a few seconds to realize that was not the case.

My newly unbroken body moved freely, but I seemed to have no co-ordination at all. And I was being held by giant hands, hands that wrapped me up in a blanket. My first thought wasn't giants. For once, my brain worked surprisingly quickly and saw to it I came to the right answer.

They weren't big, I was small.

A baby.

I'd been reborn a baby.

And then panic set in. What was I doing being reborn? I was suppose to be going on to heaven or whatever the hell it was that came after life. Not more life. That wasn't how the rules worked, and certainly not with the memories I already had from my previous life. I was twenty years old, and suddenly I was stuck in a twenty second old body. That did not sit right with me, not at all.

So I screamed, and I screamed, paused for breath.

And then I screamed some more.

.

Poppy. Poppy May Evans. Born 14th of March, 1961. That was at least thirty years earlier than when I'd been born during my previous life. At least fifty years before I'd been killed. I was going to be so old when the turn of the century hit. I was born before my old mother. That was an awful thought.

What was not so awful was that I was the youngest sibling apparently.

Father, my new one, had just left the delivery room to go and fetch the two girls, who were waiting with my new grandparents. I looked up at my mother, taking in her appearance. Her hair was blonde and fell around her face in thick waves, while her eyes were a brilliant green. Bright, warm and all smiles directed towards me. It seemed, at the very least, I'd been born into a family who wanted me it seemed. That was good news.

"Petunia, Lily. Come and say hi to Poppy." My brain slowed.

Petunia? Lily? Flower names? Really?

It wasn't until I saw the two girls stood alongside the bed that I clicked onto what was happening here.

Petunia was the clear elder by a year at the very least, with wispy blond hair and watered down, blue eyes. It was similarly obvious that she wasn't the most attractive sibling, that went to Lily. What concerned me more was the bright green eyes and red hair combo that was Lily.

Lily Evans. A Lily Evans with bright red hair, vibrant green eyes and an older sister called Petunia. A girl who looked only a year older than me, thus born in early 1960... No, people don't get reborn into story-tales. It just doesn't happen...

Right?


This idea has, admittedly, been in my head for many, many months, and I finally got time to sit and write the start. So, erm, yeah. Here it is.
I drew Poppy for the cover picture, so that's her at about eleven years old. Lily's red hair and bright blue eyes.

Coming up next;
In which Snape gets more than he bargained for, a few flowers bloom and the mounting evidence can no longer be ignored.

Thoughts, feelings? Read anything like this before (Leave a link so I can read it too maybe?)

Tsume
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