What if they lived.
Though, if they lived
She was like a ray of sunshine-when she came to pick up little Harry, all the fathers looked around to stare at her. She was so young; everything about her was young and bright, the way she wore denim jackets, t-shirts, and chuck taylor, the way her eyes were green and sprightly. She was loving, she kissed her little boy and told him stories as they walked home, holding hands, a bag with school books suspended on her arm.
He was so young and careless. Tall and handsome, messing his hair in a careless way, he seemed so irresponsible as he laughed and smirked and chatted with his sons friends. All of the mothers whispered enviously, he must've left her with a child. But then, they'd show up together, and the way they bickered and the way he kissed her freckled nose and she rolled her eyes. It was so vivid, so obvious they were in love.
Lily blinked. She let out a shaky breath.
It was too late.
"Avada Kedavra."
