Lost

How many times I have watched him die... I don't know, but I will never give up and I'll never stop trying.

I sighed and looked over at the picture of father perched on my beside table. I have been to the day of his death before... When I arrive, I will be in my room with the familiar white walls. I have five minutes to run to the Shrieking Shack, avoid being attacked in the war. I will grasp the silver knob of the front door, slip inside and reach for the closest cupboard for protection. Voldemort will come raging in, dragging my father by his side, then shoving him a chair. Voldemort will cast the Petrificus Totalus spell on Dad to immobilise Finally, Voldemort will command his snake to strike my father, unaware of my presence in the cupboard. But this time I need to intervene before the snake lashes at him or he will die and I will, once again, have to start over. Turning away from his picture, I glanced at the mirror on my bedroom wall where Mum's ocean blue eyes stare back at me. Suddenly, flashes erupted of that night.

Voldemort.

Blood. 

Mum, dead on the floor...  her blood matching my fiery red hair...

It's too late for her, she's gone. Not even my time turner could resurrect her. Twisting the time turner that hung on my neck, I whispered, "But I won't lose Dad."  Closing my eyes, I hoped this would be the last time I saw my dad die.

I opened my eyes in my room, only five years later, as expected. The familiar sound of the war between the death eaters and the magical raged on. Except, everything had changed. The walls of my room were cracked and stained yellow.  Looking around,  I didn't know why my things were gone and why the room had changed. But I didn't have time to focus on that. I ran out of the room and slammed the door behind me. Dodging the weeping, the fighting and the dying. I ran to the Shrieking Shack, where I knew my father would be.

My cold, shaking hand struggled to hold the gold door knob. What if he gets killed again? What if I can't save him? I pulled myself together, twisted the knob and  pushed the door open. Its mighty creak rang in my ears and caught the unwanted attention I had expected. Suddenly, footsteps thundered from down the hall towards me and my natural instincts kicked in. I reached for the closest cupboard, wrenched open the door and climbed in,  gently shutting it so I didn't risk being caught. 

"Is that you, Snape?" a  familiar voice quietly hissed. Voldemort had entered the room.

"Yes," Father replied. My heart skipped a beat. They were meant to enter together.

"No, from in here," Voldemort's low, drawn-out voice replied.  A tingling sensation ran up my body. I looked through the crack of the dusty cupboard and saw him, with basilisk wound around his arm. Dark venom dripped from the reptile's murderous teeth, landing on its owner's skin. Steam lightly rose from the puddle of poison, however, it had no other effect on his owner.  Voldemort's left hand was raised  and he was pointing in my direction. The cupboard rocked slightly when I shivered. My room had changed, the door knob was supposed to be silver and Voldemort entered by himself. What does this mean?

  "I believe I know the answer, Jessica. Did you believe that you are the only one who can read minds with flashes?"

A compelling force dragged me out of the cupboard. I was, once again, confronted with his evil face he but what was more confronting, was the look on my father's. He looked scared.

             "I know why you're here, this is your fifth time, isn't it?" Voldemort jeered. "You know what I am going to do with your father, don't you?"

"Leave her alone," Dad shouted. "If you want me, take me, then let her go!"

"Why would I do that when I can kill you both?"

I grabbed my wand and pointed it at him. That won't affect me, he thought.

"No," I murmured, "This will!" I pointed it at his snake.

"Oh, you're a fool," he spat,  as his death eaters swarmed the room. They held my body and lifted me out of the shack, each one inflicting their unique version of excruciating pain. Blood flooded my eyes painting the world red. The wind lashed at my body, stinging the deep gashes on my legs. They dropped me on the rugged battlefield. I wiped my eyes and I crawled on the ground, gasping for air. The death eaters surrounded me ready to attack. I rose up willing to do anything to save Dad.  As I cast unforgivable spells that eventually killed them all, I heard laughter coming from the Shrieking Shack and it wasn't my father's.

Even though I was wracked with pain, I ran back to his direction

My father's neck was covered in gaping wounds, his black wavy hair absorbing the crimson blood that poured from his skin. The rest ran down his neck landing on his dark robes. I ran to his side and looked into scared his eyes.

"Dad, please, I am trying to use my time turner to change history, but I can't save you!"

"I know," he said quietly. "Everyone has a destiny, Jess. This is mine and you can't change it." With his last breath he hushed, "But you can save his."

    Suddenly I flashed. I saw a grey gravestone and at the top of it, it read:

In  Loving Memory of Harry James Potter

I'd lost my father, I'd lost my mother. But I can save my brother