The first time I saw her in my classroom, hand raised, eager to be called on, I was reminded of Lily. Hermione Granger was smart, and once she started to get over being so bloody sensitive to criticism she put me even more in mind of Lily.

When I saw Ginny Weasley in my classroom, I thought of Lily Evans. But it was a few years before Ginny really started to come out of her shell.

And then there was Harry Potter. Lily's son. I spent 6 years trying to tell myself that Harry was just like his father. It was easier to hate him. To see Lily's eyes again hurt worse than anything else. Eyes that showed forgiveness only after I paid the ultimate price for serving two masters.

As I lay dying, seeing Harry hovering over me, I needed to see Lily's eyes one last time. To see forgiveness that I did not deserve.

Lily was always so open in her friendships. If she was shown kindness she would give kindness in return.

If someone showed devotion and love, she would reciprocate.

And if Lily was slighted or insulted, she held that grudge for quite a long time. And in that way alone are we alike.

But Lily—like her son—had a compassionate soul. Harry cares more about his family and friends than he cares about himself. He would risk his own life time and again and ask no one to help him.

I'd heard rumors that once Lily was well into her pregnancy and the prophecy had been made, she wanted to leave James and go into hiding alone.

Lily and I talk now. She's said that someday she may even truly forgive me for what I've done. I've told her that Harry seems to have already done that. She says that Harry forgives too quickly.

James and I don't talk much but he has mentioned he's trying to get Lily to forgive me. I cannot fathom as to why but I can't complain.

As I look back at all Lily has lost and gained, everything that she is, I can't help but as the question:

Why couldn't I have been more like her?