Cruel Summer - Lily and James Potter

Chapter 20 - Warnings of What's to Come

The stadium roared as another goal was scored by their best player. The people were going wild as the ball was just flying into the net; as though it had a mind of its own.

'AND POTTER SCORES ANOTHER,' the commentator screamed, his voice incredulous.

The game was raw and savage, and yet he swerved away from opponents easily; the act seeming to be as natural as breathing. The ball travelled down the pitch, being guided by him until he reached his target. Sweat and anticipation were making his skin hot and clammy, the need to win pulsing deep in his skin. He looked to where the ball was supposed to go, the Keeper standing ominously in front of it; his hands outstretched and guarding.

Potter wiped his brow before setting off, adrenaline and excitement surging through his veins as he approached the goal. He could hear the screams of his fans, their cheers and enthusiasm drowning out the displeasure of the opposing team.

He felt alive.

With one punctual swing of a limb, the ball was sailing into the air, rapidly covering ground. Screams of fans became hushed as they watched in amazement; the ball cutting through the air at the speed of light.

The hush broke as the ball plunged into the back of the net. She watched him punch his hand into the air, the screams and delight from everyone creating a wonderful atmosphere in the stadium. Other players rushed at him and people were crying as they screamed in their seats, waving banners and massive foam hands.

The Angel watched Potter from her rainbow boat in the night sky, smiling vaguely at the triumphant vibes that were rolling off him. She was glad for him; he was at least the best football player in the south of the British Isles.

Looking across the pitch, she noticed Sirius casually transfiguring Peter into a candle, which was peculiar enough without the small Marauder somehow then dissolving into her sister. Nearby, Dumbledore was waving a banner, which had a picture of him drinking a goblet full of Firewhiskey on, and she frowned at the image it made of the Hogwarts Headmaster.

Gazing back at the game, the players had gone and she found herself standing alone on the soft spongy grass. But somehow, the football pitch had turned into the Hogwarts grounds, the moon; large and silver, caressing the tops of the Forest trees with its brilliant glow. Looking down at her hands, her skin looked translucent under the gentle light, her wrists thin and delicate and her fingernails long and neutral. Everything was right now; she knew. Everything was how it was meant to be.

The girl fell to her knees, the grass thick and lustrous against her legs. She laid her hand down against its springy texture, stoking the blades through her fingers, and noticing with satisfaction of the contrast of colour between the two alternate lives. Pure, rich jade against fair, cotton skin.

Beautiful.

Pulling her hand away gently, she noticed the light moisture of dew on the tips of her fingers. She watched the moisture strangely increase as it flowed down her skin into the palm of her open hand; pooling there and shining in the moonlight. The water seemed to change in front of her eyes, into a sharp silvery substance that she subconsciously associated with Unicorn blood.

'But it can't be...this isn't the same...nothing's the same as what I think...it's always like that...it will never change...'

The mystical girl gazed thoughtfully into the liquid silver, her reflection shining back at her; her face beautifully virtuous and innocent. But this was lost on the angel that perceived it; somehow in her mind she was tainted and unworthy of choices and desires. Nothing could be how she wanted anymore; someday, somehow it would show itself, and she would be waiting...the retribution she was truly worthy of having...it would be hers.