She opened her eyes. White light bit into her irises. She felt like she had slept for days. She yawned loudly.
"Oh dear," a calm warm Scottish brogue replied. A round woman in an old fashioned dress glided over, and in a maternal fashion, began to look over the girl. Curious, the girl looked over herself as well.
"How are you feeling?" the woman asked. The girl tried to sit up. Her stomach felt like it had been slit in two with a sword. Her breath was squeezed from her lungs at the pain.
"Ahh!" she barely whispered in agony.
"Oh oh oh! Lie back now. It'll be alright." The woman mixed a potion and then lifted the girl's neck to help slide it down her throat before gently helping her to lie back down.
The girl grimaced as the nutty substance slid down her throat. It didn't taste bad so much as it felt disgusting slipping around in her stomach. She turned her head to the side in hopes that she wouldn't have to drink anymore, when she noticed something, or rather, someone, she hadn't seen before.
A boy with unruly black hair was awkwardly curled into a chair slightly too small for his frame that looked as though it would be tall and lean when standing. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, revealing deep black circles under his eyes.
"Oh let him sleep dear. He's hasn't left your side since he brought you here eight days ago. Normally I wouldn't dare let anyone play sentinel like he has, but you should see the right state he's been in. Hasn't eaten as far as I know, even the food his friends have brought him. He barely moves from that wretched chair, and even then it's only to pace. He's been talking to you a lot, only when he thinks no one is in the room of course – never seen him so serious in my entire life, and coming from me I'm sure that's saying more than most. Say what you want about the poor lad, but his heart is in the right place."
The girl's eyes drank him in. Her heart fluttered softly at the healer's words. This boy cared about her very deeply. She could feel her cheeks warm in pleasure at the thought. There was something so…reassuring about waking up to find someone like him so worried about her. She couldn't help the immediate affection for him she felt.
"Why did he bring me in?" she asked, her eyes never wavering in their trace of his form.
"I don't know dear. There was some sort of duel I suppose. The headmaster had a private word with him, but I don't know what was said."
A duel. Perhaps he had been trying to protect her, and had dueled with some unknown fiend. She had gotten caught in the crossfire -- unfortunate, tragic -- but he had whisked her away to get help after avenging her. It was very brave of him, she thought, and her emotions surged again with a well of gratitude and something else that left her head slightly heady and warm.
"What's his name?" she asked, desperate to know.
"His name?" the healer asked startled. The girl finally pulled her gaze away from the boy and turned her head to look at the healer once more. "Why, James Potter."
"Oh," she said, his name spinning through her mind, wishing to pull forth endless moments of intimate memories and not finding a single one. She allowed the words to echo around her head and decided that it was, in fact, a very nice sounding name. The healer looked at her for a long moment.
"Did you not know?" the healer asked. The girl shook her head. The healer frowned deeply, her brows knitting together. "You didn't know his name? Do you know what your name is? Where you are?"
The girl opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She felt that words were appropriate, but she could not think of any, nor anything else at all. She closed her mouth, and shook her head.
"Oh dear," the healer whispered dramatically. "I must speak to the headmaster immediately! Don't go anywhere! Try not to move! I shall return as quickly as I can!"
And with that she was gone. The girl sighed. She thought that perhaps she should be angry or worried that she could not remember anything, but she wasn't. She felt…calm. Peaceful really. She glanced over at the boy. She wondered what his reaction would be upon seeing her awake. She wondered if he would kiss her.
"James," she whispered to him, and he stirred for a moment on the edge of sleep. His eyes flickered open for a moment, warm grey eyes meeting her own before sliding back closed. They startled fully awake after another split second.
"You're awake!" he jumped out of his chair towards her. "How are you feeling? Can you speak?"
"I'm alright," she whispered. His whole body seemed to visibly slump with relief at these words.
Footsteps echoed in the hall and they turned to see the healer trailing an old man with a commanding presence. They came to her bedside and James stood back from her with a wretched expression of his face.
The sage man's kind eyes stared at her with a great intensity. "Hello. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am Headmaster here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said, because he was looking at her as though expecting something from her. He nodded at this.
"What's going on?" James demanded.
The healer turned to him, looking as though she wished to remove him from the room, but Dumbledore turned to address him.
"It would seem that the cause of her recent incapacitation has also resulted in a form of amnesia, the extent of which seems quite severe," he said solemnly.
"What do you mean! She doesn't remember…anything?" James choked and she felt guilty that he would be so upset she could not really remember him. "Her memory…"
"That remains to be seen," Dumbledore said. He turned to the girl. "If you would allow me entrance to your mind, I will hopefully be able to ascertain some information about how this has come about."
She nodded, and felt as though someone was poking at a bruise right in the middle of her forehead. She winced, and the pain was gone.
"It would seem there is a very powerful ward in place, I believe, placed by your own magic as a form of protection. It took a great deal of energy to create, and if I am not mistaken, the reason you have been unconscious for eight days. You still need rest. Tomorrow we shall have to run through some mental exercises, to see how deep the damage goes. I will notify your parents and—"
"I remember them," she said suddenly, and startled excited eyes fell upon her. "I remember Mum and Dad and…and my sister."
It wasn't as though memories had flooded back to her, so much as she finally grabbed onto something her mind was trying to reach, but the emotions attached to them were distant, as though they weren't really her own and she was looking at someone else's life. "I remember our house and my first school. I remember how to change a pound into a galleon at Gringotts. I remember some charms and my wand. I remember the muggle world and I remember…parts of this one. Facts really…but no people. No places. I don't know why I'm here – why I can't remember, I mean."
She looked back to Dumbledore in hopes he could explain. "This, I am afraid, we also do not know."
"I think it would be best, Albus, if we did not tell her too much about her life here," the healer said. The girl was frustrated at this. Why couldn't she know who she was? Who was she to decide what she could know about her own life?
"It will be hard," the woman said, turning to look at James as she said this. "But she must learn to remember and know this world on her own, or her memory may never come back. What kind of Memory Charm that could do this much damage and still allow her to be alive I do not know. However, she has survived, and this also means that whatever has happened is likely to be healed as she begins to recognize things. The synapses in her brain will reconnect, allowing her access to the rest of her memories."
There was a heavy silence. "May I know my name?" she asked, and the healer looked apologetic.
James, glaring at her, spoke. "Your name is Lily."
She turned to him, and his eyes bore into hers. "Lily Marie Evans."
This seemed…right, she thought. It fit, like two pieces of a puzzle sliding into place.
"It is late," Dumbledore said. "Miss Evans needs her rest. I suggest you return to your own bed as well Mr. Potter."
James tried to protest this, but Dumbledore raised his hand. "You need sleep as well. You may return in the morning if you wish, as tomorrow is Friday and I doubt your concentration will be very focused on your classes."
"Thank you sir," he said.
"I will speak to you again tomorrow Miss Evans," Dumbledore said, inclining his head to the healer to speak with her for a few moments. They walked to her office, and James approached her bedside. Her hand reached for his and he immediately took it in both of his own.
"You remembered me," he said in a slightly awed tone, and she did not have the heart to tell him it wasn't true.
Tortured eyes delved into her own, searching. "I'm so sorry Lily. You can't know how sorry. I'm really, really glad you're okay. I was so scared. I thought…I thought you were…you'll get better. I promise. I'll be back first thing in the morning and I'll answer any questions you have. I'll take care of you," he said, squeezing her hand.
She smiled softly at him, and he closed his eyes, as though unable to take that look of warmth coming from her. "I'll see you in the morning then," she said, and he nodded.
"Goodnight," he whispered, and then opened his eyes. Emotions flashed through them, none of which she understood, but then suddenly he arched over her, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll make you better," he swore, before pulling away. She watched him leave, watched as every other step seemed to falter and hesitate as he steadily moved away from her until he was out of sight and she could no longer hear his footsteps.
She closed her eyes and was immediately whisked off into sleep.
"Let me fix things! I'll make it better!" a familiar boy's voice pleaded as she stormed away. He followed.
"You can't make anything better! You horrible, insufferable, daft, idiot! I wish…"
"What do you wish? Tell me!" he demanded. She spun around sharply.
"You don't want to know what I wish!" she said threateningly.
"Yes I do! Demorie Restovenia!" he cried.
She awoke to the dead of night and an otherwise empty room. The dream slipped through her mind like sand through her fingers and the more she tried to remember, the less she could grasp onto.
Sighing softly, sure it was important but unable to recall, she shifted a bit, before falling back asleep.
He was at her side with breakfast when she awoke again. "Breakfast tea with a splash of milk and two sugars," he said, after he had helped her into a sitting position that wasn't too uncomfortable. Already her stomach felt worlds better, though it was by no means healed entirely. "Two currant scones, four sausages, and three poached eggs."
"Do I normally eat this much?" she asked.
He laughed. "No, but I figured you'd be hungry, and Madame Aviate said that it will be good exercise for your stomach muscles."
"Who is Madame Aviate?" she asked. He blinked.
"The healer whose been attending you. Didn't she tell you her name?" he asked, obviously worried she must have forgotten again.
"No, she didn't. She rushed off to see Dumbledore when she realized I didn't remember..." you, she thought silently.
"Oh," he said. "Yes, I can see how that would have been surprising."
Lily felt awkward. "I'm sorry I don't remember," she said.
His eyes were dark. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."
He didn't say much as he helped her eat. Though she had full use of her limbs, he fed her as though she was a small child, and she felt cared for and safe with him.
He cleared the tray away and came back to sit next to her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and his eyes traveled over her features. She frowned suddenly.
"What do I look like?" she asked.
Five minutes later, a mirror in hand, she looked at herself for the first time. She wasn't sure what she was expecting so she wasn't exactly surprised. She tilted her red head to the side, examined her wide almond shaped eyes with ridiculously long lashes, mouthed soundlessly to test the expandability of her lips, and pulled the mirror close to see herself wrinkle her nose doused in freckles. Up until noticing these light dots she was not upset nor overly pleased with her reflection because she didn't know what she thought of herself, other than it was a first real glimpse of who she was.
"You didn't like having freckles," he said, and she turned to look at him. He looked slightly uncomfortable and looked away. "Well, I mean, I think you did when you were younger, but I used to tease you about them until you became embarrassed so you'd put concealing charms over them."
"Oh," she said, and turned to reexamine her nose, wriggling it this way and that, wondering what it would look like without freckles.
"You have twenty-three," he said. She looked back at him. "In case you were counting."
"I wasn't," she said. "How did you know how many there were if I concealed them all of the time?"
"I counted them before you started doing that."
"Because I secretly liked them and didn't want you to know."
"Oh," she said, and returned to her mirror, because she rather thought it would be polite to ignore his light blush.
"Did I like my red hair? Did I like having it this short?" she asked, pulling a shoulder length strand between her fingers.
"I don't know. It's your grandmother's hair. You used to have it long. Really long, to your hips actually, but you cut it off when she died last year. I got really angry because I didn't know why you had done it. You told me that in certain Native Americans tribes, when someone close to them dies, they chop off their hair and give it to the dead person, to show how much of your life was changed and impacted because of them, and so other people can see that you're grieving."
"Oh," she said.
"Was I always so…?"
"Complex and layered?" he supplied. "Yes. Always. For as long as I've known you anyway."
"And how long has that been?" she asked, turning to him again.
He swallowed hard. "Since we were eleven."
"And how old are we now?"
He paused, and she knew he was thinking about the healer's words. "Seventeen."
Six years, her mind said. "That's a long time."
"I suppose so," he said seriously.
She turned back to the mirror and her freckles. She noticed after a moment of inspection that he was right. She did in fact have twenty-three. She also noticed a small scar under her left eye.
"Where did I get this?" she asked, pointing.
"You were scratched by a Bowtruckle in Care of Magical Creatures class because you were distracted."
"Oh," she said, wishing it had been something a little more impressive. Almost as though sensing this, he added, "You have a scar on your knee from when beat up a Neferin with your bare hands in third year."
"Really?" she asked, and pulled back the sheet to examine.
She bunched up her nightgown around her mid thighs, keeping her legs flat so as not to expose anymore. She leaned forward over her knees and examined them. There, on the inside of the right one was a tangle of white lines.
She looked up at him to find him red faced and pointedly looking anywhere but at her. She was surprised. Surely if he had known about that scar than he had seen her legs up close before…right?
Judging by the coloring on his face, he hadn't, and she felt her cheeks blush as well. She pulled down her nightgown and pulled the sheets back up.
Lily turned as she heard some boys approach.
"We heard you were up and we came to see the damage," a boy with long dark hair and intense dark eyes drawled. "Judging by the lack of blood stains, I'm guessing you went for psychological trauma this time Evans."
Startled to realize he was speaking to her, Lily wasn't quite sure what to say.
"Sod off, Sirius," James said, and Lily couldn't help but feel pleased he was standing up for her.
"Did I know them?" she tried to ask James quietly. The looks on the boys' faces of clear appalling surprise indicated that in fact, she had. "I'm sorry," she said, seeing their looks, and turned to James to help explain.
"Lily," James said, reaching his hand out to squeeze hers. "I told you: it's not your fault. It's mine. Don't apologize."
"What in the bloody hell?" Sirius declared. "Are you having us on?"
"She's lost her memory. This is Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. They're my best mates," James said. Lily nodded to each of them in turn.
Remus looked concerned. "James, how did this —"
Sirius grinned maniacally and cut him off. "Do you mean to tell me that our other favorite Prefect has no memory of her position and is otherwise incapable of performing her duties?"
"Yes, I suppose so," James said.
"Excellent," Peter said.
James glared at him. "But that doesn't mean you're going to take advantage."
"Oh come on, Prongs!" Sirius wailed.
"I'm serious. I'll take points on her behalf if you try to do anything to her," James said darkly.
Sirius brightened. "Oh alright, we won't do anything to her." Sirius winked at Remus when James had turned back to Lily to explain what they were talking about.
Three girls burst into the room. "What are you lot doing in here? Get out," a girl with blonde hair and a decidedly disgusted look said. The other two girls seemed to trail behind, dividing their attention between looks of concern for Lily and drooling over Sirius Black.
"No need to bunch up your knickers, McKinnon," Sirius drawled in a manner that suggested he was entirely unconcerned with her words. "We're playing nice."
"Well go play elsewhere Black, unless you need me to give you a reason to stay," she said, swinging her wand idly in her hand.
He sighed. "You know I don't duel with girls. It's entirely inappropriate for a gentleman of my good standing."
Marlene McKinnon snorted and opened her mouth to retort when James cut in. "Knock it off, the both of you."
Marlene raised her eyebrows. "What makes you think I wasn't talking to you when I said 'shove off' Potter? Leave Lily alone. It's not enough that you got her landed in here in the first place, but now you're trying to make her life miserable while she's bedridden and unable to escape? There aren't words for how low you are."
"How dare you!" Lily cut in with a shrill tone, her cheeks flushing. "He feels bad enough as it is for what happened and you have absolutely no right to come in here and verbally degrade him! You throw stones like you're not standing in a glass house! James has been by my side this entire time! Where have you been?"
Marlene looked like she had been slapped. "She's come by every day to visit," James told Lily quietly. "This is Marlene McKinnon. She's your best friend. She's the right of it. Normally our friends don't get on with one another."
"What…?" Marlene began, tears pooling in her eyes.
"Lost her mind," Sirius supplied cheerfully.
"Her memory," Remus corrected, shooting a dark look at Sirius for his comment.
This seemed to clear everything away. "I don't know what they've said to poison your mind, Lily, but don't you fret. I'll have them stripped naked and tossed in the ice covered lake before you can say 'revenge'. Now James, kindly back away and your punishment won't be inflicted in the middle of the night when it's dark and the giant squid is likely to keep you as a dolly."
James stared down the wrong end of Marlene's wand, and began to rise. As his arm untangled itself from Lily's, she made a soft strangled noise that tore at his heart. He looked back down at her face, eyes begging him silently not to leave her. He swallowed hard. She didn't want to be left alone, and he was all she really knew. He…couldn't leave her.
James sat down on the cot next to Lily and she seemed to huddle against his side. "I won't leave unless you ask me too," he told her.
"I don't want you to leave," she whispered to him. "I want them to go away. I want them to leave us alone."
His hand came to stroke through her hair. "Shhh, it's okay. No one's going to get hurt. Sirius and Remus and Peter are going to leave, and then the girls will leave as well."
James looked back at his friends imploringly, and they shrugged before heading out. James then turned to Lily's friends but they did not look anywhere near as accommodating.
"What seems to be all of the commotion out here about?" Madame Aviate said, bustling into the room with several vials in her arms. She brought them next to Lily's bedside before anyone spoke.
"Make them go away," Lily whispered, her eyes not meeting those of the girls'.
Startled, but not asking any questions, Madame Aviate declared loudly, "Well, I'm going to have to administer some potions, so you'll have to clear out."
"What about Potter?" Marlene asked darkly.
"He'll be leaving soon enough as well, once he finishes up helping me," she said, and without a suitable argument, Marlene gave them all one last dark look before leaving, the other girls mimicking her actions almost to a fault.
"Now what was that all about? Those were your friends you know," Madame Aviate said, mixing vials together.
"I know," Lily said. "They were just…" She sighed, looking for the right words. "Not what I expected my friends to be," she whispered lamely.
"Oh now dear, I'm sure they were just worried about you is all. Makes people do strange things, worry does. Now drink this, and lie down. If you're feeling better in the morning, you can go out for a walk for a bit. I'm sure your friends wouldn't mind being your guide, and you can patch things up then," she said with a smile as Lily tried to hide her grimace from swallowing the potion.
James's hand continued to stroke through her hair once she had lain back down. Lily sighed as she looked up at him. "Tell me about our classes," she said. "I'll have to go back eventually, and I want to be as prepared as possible."
He grinned. "That's a very Lily thing to say, though your improvisational skills were always exceptional."
She held onto his arm as they passed the threshold of the door back into their Charms class. He did not complain that she was cutting off the circulation in his arm, which she thought was rather commendable as she figured she probably was, but could not for the life of her loosen her grip.
She was terrified: terrified of what everyone would say and do, of how they would treat her, and of how she would perform. For some reason, these feelings felt familiar to her somehow. She couldn't remember much as far as her classes went, but James had practiced some of the recent spells he said she had missed since she had been out.
She had been a bit reticent at first, and rather shocked that she had had no trouble mastering the spells. James hadn't been surprised at all, and this, if anything, only made her feel flattered that he had held her in such high esteem. He had told her that she was one of the best in their year and he had said this with such a sense of pride in his voice and this look of amazement in his eyes that she could not help but be pleased and determined to continue to be so.
However, this did not mean she was for one second going to release him as all of the heads in the room turned to look at them and broke out in excited whispers. She raised her head slightly and ignored them. James smiled at her as they sat down together.
Marlene walked up and raised an eyebrow at James. "Do you mind?" she asked in a polite tone to James. "Only that's my seat you're sitting in."
Lily's hand tightened in James's, hidden beneath the desk. "I want James to be my partner today," Lily said, trying to keep her voice even. She knew that everyone in the room was focused on her, and she hated it. Why they couldn't go back to their own business she wasn't sure, but she did know that deep inside of her, she would never be so rude as most of her classmates had been.
In all fairness, James had told her of her friendship with Marlene (apparently they were thick as thieves most of the time, and even if most people found Marlene to be a bit course, Lily had always been a nice compliment to her and was amused more than angered by this characteristic). Lily took note of the light showing of pain in the girl's eyes before she nodded at Lily and left to sit with another girl behind her.
Professor Flitwick bustled into the class a moment later, and people took their seats and quieted down. James pulled out some parchment and began to take notes with his free hand and some parchment he pulled from his bag.
"Oh!" Lily whispered softly. "Should I have brought…? I didn't think…"
"S'alright," he said, and glanced up at her, his hand squeezing hers, and a smile slipping onto his features. "We'll share."
The look in his eyes as he said this made Lily so warm she felt like she was awash in a hot bath, floating weightlessly and slightly disoriented.
Professor Flitwick finished his lecture on advanced engorging and shrinking charms, and the practical part of class began as he passed around teacups with tea in them. For their NEWTs, they would need not only to be able to change the size of the cup, but also the amount of the tea inside the cup. Solids were much easier to manipulate, but a liquid, especially inside a solid was vastly more complicated.
"You first," James said, and he smiled mischievously at her. "Don't give me that look. I know the only reason you want me to try it is so that you'd don't have to attempt it in front of all these people. And that's simply ridiculous. You'll never get your life back if you don't try."
She sighed, and let go of his hand to pull out her wand. She had at first thought it would be strange to hold a wand, but the way it fit so naturally there, that first night she had been reunited with it she had held it as she slept, feeling as though she had regained a limb, and had carried it with her ever since. It was only when she was holding her wand that she did not wish to hold James's hand, as though her magic and the core of her was somehow still separate from the world, and always would be.
She let her mind clear, forced out the sounds of everyone's chattering and giggling and attempts, even forced out the thought of James beside her and Marlene behind her, until all she could see was the cup. Her eyes traced its surface and angles and grooves, its colors and textures and heat, its very essence, until she whispered the words and pushed at every particle of the cup and tea until it was growing and growing and growing so large it began to overtake the desk it was sitting on and—
James grabbed her wrist. Her concentration broke. The teacup shattered and spilled warm liquid everywhere. Everyone was silent as they stared.
"Miss Evans," Professor Flitwick said, his voice a bit exasperated as though he had called her name several times already and she had not heard.
She could not take it, could not stand how everyone looked at her like she was a freak, that word spoken in Petunia's voice ringing in her head so sharply she began to cry, and she hurriedly pushed herself up from her desk and ran from the room.
Her eyes blurred with tears, she did not see the giant of a man and she barreled into him as she flew across the courtyard.
"Whoa there now!" the deep Scottish brogue sounded and as she was helped to her feet she wiped her eyes and found herself under the kind gaze of a long lost friend. She knew those eyes somehow. "I'm Hagrid," the voice said, and deep pockets of warmth and comforting emotion flew threw her. He smelled like turf smoke and dog slobber and baked scones, and she wasn't afraid.
"I'm Lily," she said, her voice still timid. His soft smile beneath his mangy beard made her smile too.
"How's about you come with me for a spot of tea and you can tell me all about what's botherin' you? Fang'll have missed you."
Though the immediate thought of tea almost made her start crying again, she agreed, and they made their way down to his hut. Fang, slurping up her face in one giant tongue lashing, continued to lick at her leg as though it was a slab of meat as she sat in the giant armchair near the fire.
She somehow intrinsically knew to feed Fang her rockcakes disguised as scones instead of attempting it herself, and she was flattered that Hagrid had put in just the right about of milk and sugar.
Though she had started off talking about class, her words soon spiraled into all of everything that had happened, what she knew and what she remembered, and of course all of this lead to talking about James.
When she finally finished, she took a deep breath and Hagrid looked at her for a long moment.
"He loves you very much, that James Potter. He's a rascal to be sure, and some'd say worse, but that boy has been coming down to see me since first year, always moaning on about his feelings for you amongst other things. You haven't always been a willing party to it, you know. Lots a folks'll say lots o' things, but James has a stout heart and he's loyal through and through. No one in their right mind could argue with tha'."
Just then, James Potter burst into the door, disheveled and sweaty. "Hagrid! You have to help me find—"
But he stopped abruptly at the sight of her, and his tense force visibly slumped with relief. "You're here," he said softly. "I was worried when I couldn't find you. I thought you might have gotten lost when I couldn't find you back at the hospital wing, and you had taken off in the direction of the forest. You were amazing in class today."
She blushed at this, angry and embarrassed. "It was horrible," she whispered forcefully.
"Are you joking? Hagrid, you should have seen it! The teacup was the size of your pumpkins, and this was her first try!" James sounded excited now and impressed.
"So I heard," Hagrid said, looking back to Lily's incredibly embarrassed form with a much more gentle demeanor than James. "You shouldn't be embarrassed abou' your abilities Lily. They're a gift. A blessin'. And you're an awfully powerful witch so it isn't any surprise that you might have a bit more trouble controllin' your powers than most your age."
"But Hagrid, you didn't see! Tea spilled everywhere! Why do you think I'm drenched?"
"Everyone was having trouble with the tea Lily—"
"But no one else couldn't stop! It was like I couldn't think about anything else other than making the blasted teacup bigger! I couldn't break my focus and—"
"Lily!" James exclaimed as her saw the tears build up in her eyes and rushed forward to encircle her in his arms. She buried herself there and continued to whisper.
"I could've made that cup bigger, so much bigger. Bigger than the whole world if I wanted to. Smaller than our eyes could see. I could feel it in my veins, in my blood. I could feel my magic and I could feel it transforming that cup and I just couldn't think about anything outside of it."
"Sometimes, the thought of being able to control everything overtakes us. It's why some wizards go dark, seeking that raw power because they're weak and afraid of their problems. Hagrid was right, magic is a gift, but if you let it, your magic will control you, not the other way around. Magic itself isn't good or evil, but it doesn't like to be shut away or contained. It likes to flow through us and around us and if you don't keep a control on it, what just happened will continue."
"I want to be stronger, James. I felt like I was losing myself to that cup, that stupid cup. I don't want to ever lose myself again."
"It's okay, Lily. I won't let you get lost. I won't let anything get you. I'll protect you."
AN: Cookies for those who review!
I was writing this with someone awhile back, but real life issues got in the way on my end, and I've just recently picked it back up. If you've read something similar to this, NO this is not plagiarized. This is MY work. I say this because (as horrible of a person as it makes me) I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the person who was going to co-author it with me. PLEASE email me if you're reading this (and I am SO sorry). I'd love to see any of the changes you made to this or the later parts! I have a large portion of the middle written now as well that I thought had been lacking before and I was interested to see if you had worked on any of that as well.
To everyone else: YES I am once again working on BC. I have no idea when I will post the next chapter (it is still being icky) but I AM working on it!