"Welcome, one and all, to the Leaky Cauldron! Gather round, gather round, for tonight we have a special guest. The storyteller is in town, with new stories for you to marvel at. Please welcome, our esteemed guest, the STORYTELLER!"
A collection of s...
This was my entry for WattRowling's Godric's Hollow contest. Enjoy!
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My eyes widen with a kind of pleasure, a kind of hope I've not felt in many years, as I stare down at the shiny little object in my hands. I can almost see my face reflected in the golden rings; the hook of my nose, the obsidian of my eyes, the night-black hair hanging like a curtain around my face. All the things I hate about myself. All the things she'd make me feel better about.
She's gone. I failed her all those years ago. But with this, I may just be able to save her now. I flick it over in my hands, the chain hanging loosely over the rapidly drumming heartbeat in my wrist. This is it. My chance to save her. My chance to make everything right.
In a faraway corner of my mind, I can hear the old man's voice. "Severus," he whispers. "Leave it alone. You can't change what already happened. It is too dangerous, Severus. Leave it alone." But how can I? With this little trinket, seemingly innocent but overflowing with obscure magic, I can fix the one thing I've always regretted most.
I can finally save her, my heart, my love, my Lily.
The time-turner glitters in the light of a weak winter sun. Though I am excited at the thought of what I will do, I have still taken some time to think this through, to plan. That is why I find myself in the ruins of her house.
I'd nearly forgotten what this place looked like; nearly managed to banish the scene from my nightmares. But here I am, staring across the rubble that was once Lily's house. And it will be again.
I turn the tiny hourglass, over and over and over, and when the world stops moving I find myself in the house. Not the ruin, the house. I've done it. A hoarse laugh escapes my throat as I smile gratefully down at the golden trinket in my hand, in awe of the incredible power of such a small tool. I've done it.
Going back this far is difficult. Inaccurate. So I'm not sure exactly where I am - or rather when I am. I look around in an attempt to find a clue as to my whereabouts.
I'm standing in the living room. A sofa in a corner is supplemented by a baby crib. There are several toys on the coffee table and in the large oaken bookcase is a picture of a plump baby, squealing at me with his little arms outstretched as if I'd lift him up.
Harry. Doubtlessly and undeniably Harry. That means I can't be that far off in time. I know they're still alive and I know Harry has already been born.
A short, high-pitched scream startles me out of my search. My gaze shoots back towards the sofa. Just next to it, in the door opening leading to the kitchen, stands a beautiful woman. The girl who fills both my best daydreams and my worst nightmares. The woman who both gave me a life and ruined it. Lily Evans.
As she stares at me with a clear expression of shock on her face, a million emotions fill my heart, playing a game of cat and mouse with the words in my throat. A wave of happiness, a sprinkle of disbelief, a flickering flame of hope that I desperately fuel. It is all I have left.
