She really loves autumn: she enjoys watching the leaves fall while sipping a cup of coffee on a bench in the park, maybe with a good book in her hands too.
She is a "walking sunshine", always a smile on her face and a kind word for almost anyone.
She can be very emotional at times, as she also can hide her feelings very well. No one really knows what hides behind her nice attitude.
She likes listening to music, especially pop and romantic songs, even though, when she feels sad, she hardly can stop her tears.
She is kind, but she's not stupid or weak. She can handle almost anything by herself, from an insistent man to a bad hair day.
She hates injustice and, if she does see anything she doesn't like, she'll do everything she can to stop it.
She always takes care of herself, especially when she's in a bad mood. It helps her relax and makes the bad thoughts disappear for a while.
She could probably live by only drinking coffee and eating donuts, but she has a thing for salty snacks too.
She's loyal and reliable. Will always help, if she can, but she won't do your homework, nor she'll let you copy hers without a prove that you tried in a first place.
The letter was an incredible treasure, proof that Lily Potter had lived, really lived, that her warm hand had once moved across this parchment, tracing ink into these letters, these words, words about him, Harry, her son.
That's when I met your mother, the girl of my dreams
The most beautiful woman, that I'd ever seen
She said, "Boy can I tell you a wonderful thing?
I can't help but notice, you're staring at me.
I know I shouldn't say this, but I really believe
I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me"
Now son, I'm only telling you this...
Because life, can do terrible things
Now most of the time, we'd had too much to drink
And we'd laugh at the stars and we'd share everything
Too young to notice, and too dumb to care
Love was a story, that couldn't compare
I said, "Girl, can I tell you a wonderful thing?
I made you a present with paper and string.
Open with care now, I'm asking you, please.
You know that I love you, will you marry me?"
Now son, I'm only telling you this...
Because life, can do terrible things
You'll learn, one day, I'll hope and I'll pray
That God, shows you differently
I just heard of this song and I can just imagine James telling Harry this and what am I doing with my life. it's not even that Jily. Jily is just everywhere for me these days.
Five letters that were written on 31st October 1981, and were never sent.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
i.
Dear Padfoot,
It’s Halloween. You know this, obviously. I’m writing you this mostly because I feel like we haven’t seen you in a while, not since September, and I wanted to check you were alright without leaving the house; also, because Halloween is your favourite holiday. So I thought a bit of cheering up was in order, considering I doubt you’ll be able to Trick or Treat.
Now I’ve started this, of course, I’m not sure what to actually write. It’s surprising how little I have to talk about when I’m stuck indoors all day. James is climbing the walls; he misses you dreadfully. Harry’s perfectly happy, actually, though I suppose that’s because he doesn’t know anything else. Today we baked cupcakes – well, I baked and Harry threw flour at me, and James swore a lot.
I guess the reason you aren’t talking much is because you miss Marlene, and I just want you to know that we all miss her too. I hope you aren’t being too reckless. I miss being in the Order with you, because I know that with James there it was safer for you because you didn’t feel like you had to throw yourself into it so much, and I guess without him you’re probably risking your life a hell of a lot more – don’t. Just because you aren’t…I mean, just because we don’t use you as…it doesn’t mean that you can just get yourself killed over something stupid. Oh, God, now I’m crying again and it’s your fault – so you’d better not do anything. Trust me, I WILL KNOW. Remember Christmas, sixth year? It’ll be like that, only ten times worse.
Anyway.
I hope you aren’t sitting around at home. Even though we aren’t trick or treating, Harry’s dressed up – like a puppy, it’s your influence; James still hasn’t forgiven you for his first word being ‘Padfoot’ – and we gave him too many sweets. Right now he’s high as a kite, but James should be coming down soon – he’s writing as well, I think. Writing letters is all we do these days. Not goodbyes, of course, never those, but long lists of things we wish we could do, I suppose. Anyway. Maybe it’s to you, telling you to cheer up. It isn’t normal for you to be so withdrawn, and it’s worrying.
The point is, James is coming down now (I can hear him creaking; he’s never been very subtle), so I’m signing off now. Don’t be an idiot, Sirius.
All my love, as always, and apologies for the uselessness of this letter,
Lily
xxx
ii.
Mar,
You’re dead, and I’m not, and that sucks. Also, you were married to him, and that sucks too, though it’s slightly further down the list of priorities.
Lily says hi, I think. I haven’t spoken to them in a while.
Actually, I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Thought I’d get you up to date with current affairs, or something? I don’t know.
It goes something like this:
You died, and Jon was killed too, and your kid (what was his name? Something nice, something about stars…I forget. Sorry. He was pretty too, pretty like you). And Doe was got a week before that, I don’t know if you ever heard – you were a bit out of the loop, I guess, what with leaving like you did. So now it’s basically me, Remus, Peter, James, Lily and Alice and Frank, and we’re all that’s left from the old crowd, though Mary chips in occasionally. She has a new boyfriend, someone we don’t know. Or at least someone I don’t know. He was a Hufflepuff.
Not that I’m complaining – we’ve got tonnes of new people, and sometimes it feels like we might win this, but then sometimes it doesn’t. I’m not sure, Mar, really I’m not. I don’t know if it’s worth it.
Maybe I’ll see James and Lily tomorrow. I don’t like to see them because they remind me of you, and because I’m not their-
It’s probably better not to put that in a letter, just in case.
iii.
Wormtail,
I don’t know what propelled me to write this. I’m not usually a letter-type of guy, as you know. But you’ve seemed a bit off lately, and I wanted to reassure you, considering this is the only way we can communicate now, what with the phone off and visits impossible, that we trust you. But you shouldn’t worry about the pressure of this. It’s not like you’re going to have much of an opportunity to, y’know, let it slip.
This is getting worryingly close to being explicit, so I’ll sign off quickly, before I say more. Don’t let them get you down, or whatever it is Sirius used to say.
Oh, and I hate to say it, but keep an eye on Remus? I don’t know, he’s been acting - I don’t want you to think I don’t trust him, but I don’t want him hurt. So just, y’know…yeah.
Prongs
iv.
To Petunia,
This is letter number thirty seven of those which will never be sent. I hope I see you at Christmas, though I doubt it. Nothing much happened today. I wrote a letter to Sirius – you met him once, handsome guy, not really your type, I think you told him to put his cigarette out – and so now I’m writing to you. It’s Halloween. Does Dudley like Halloween? Harry does, already, though I don’t think the hundreds of liquorice wands he consumed had a good effect on him. He’s throwing building blocks at my ankles, hang on a sec.
Alright, that’s better. He’s calmer now. It’s getting late, actually, so I’ll need to take him to bed soon.
Today we baked cakes and I thought of you. We used to do that, and it was the only time when we wouldn’t fight. I even ended up covered in icing sugar, though James kissed it off this time, rather than mum shoving me in the shower. I think you’d like James, really, if you had a proper conversation with him. It’s impossible not to like James – it’s impossible not to love James. I love James, and we always used to share everything. Not that I’m suggesting we share James – ugh, that came out all wrong. Never mind. You won’t read this anyway.
Sirius is seriously screwed up, though, and I mean more than usual. I worry, sometimes, that-
James is down. I’m going to take Harry through to the living room. James is good at calming him down; he does tricks, like old fashioned magic tricks, and he makes sparks and bubbles – though you hate magic. But this is real magic. Maybe because it’s James.
Love you, write later, maybe. Speak soon?
Lily
x
v.
To James,
James and Lily,
Prongs,
Dear James and Lily,
I just want you to know – though you won’t because you’ll never read this – that I had doubts. But you have to understand, I had no choice. He would have killed me! And I thought – I didn’t think he would – well, I knew, I suppose, but I never thought – there’s nothing I can do now, and – is it too much to hope that you never realise it was me? No, you will, you’re both too smart. Too smart for your own good. And I am too stupid. But I see that now.
