Lily of The Valley

And now, may I introduce......

Lily of the Valley.

Prologue

The young woman sat with her back against the tree, staring at nothing in shock. She didn't see the beautiful winter around her... the ice forming around the edges of the lake. She didn't notice her cold skin, only the cold she felt deep within her heart. He was dead. He promised he would come back to her, and they would be together the way it was meant to be. But now, he was gone. Tears formed in her bright green eyes. She looked down at her hand- at the gold ring he had given to her the last time they were together. Lily of the Valley. That's what he called her. She was a delicate and beautiful flower. She stood up and walked closer to the water. This was where they were when they said good-bye that night, nearly 2 months ago. She cried out in agony, heartbroken. She wanted to scream- WHY? Why did you have to leave me? Why did you have to leave US? Instinctively, her hand went to her belly, and she felt the small life move inside of her.....

Chapter 1

The worst summer ever

Roughly 15 years later

Vernon Dursley could be described as many things. Compassionate was NOT one of them. At least, not when it came to his nephew, Harry Potter. Harry was an orphan. And not just any orphan. He was The-Boy-Who-Lived. A wizard, who had somehow lived when the evil Voldemort had come into his parents home when he was just over a year old, and killed his parents. Voldemort was as evil as evil can be. The epitome of Satan himself. Ruthless. Emotionless. And it was Harry's destiny that he would be the one to rid the world of this evil. A lot of responsibility for a boy all of 15 years old. Well, 15 in a month and a half. He was famous throughout the wizarding world because of it. He was your average adolescent teenage wizard, with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But none of that mattered to Vernon Dursley. He was strapped with the care of his freak nephew. Care. HA! If you could call it that. Vernon, his wife Petunia, and their son Dudley hated anything that had to do with magic. They'd always hated Harry and had always been extremely cruel to him. They locked him in the room under the stairs, known as the cupboard. They made him work until his body would work no more. And they very rarely fed him. But this summer.... this summer was worse then any other time in Harry's life. It was bad enough that he was unable to go visit his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, as he had been able to do in previous summers. Along with all the emotional abuse, the hateful words, the exhaustion.... everything... Harry also began receiving beatings, real beatings. The Dursleys knew he couldn't use his magic. They'd taken his trunk, filled with all his things from school, and hidden it from Harry. They knew that he couldn't send for help, because he left his owl Hedwig in Ron's care.

And as if all that wasn't bad enough, it had only been a few weeks since the horrible end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry thought of Cedric, the brave Hufflepuff, who had died in the tournament. A familiar feeling of guilt washed over him. It was his fault. He wasn't supposed to be in the tournament. It was called TRI-wizard for a reason. After the third name had been given by the Goblet of Fire, out popped another name. His. In the third and final task between the four young wizards, Harry and Cedric had reached the end of the maze and the cup at the same time. They agreed to take the cup together. Little did they know that the cup was a portkey, set to send Harry right into Voldemort's hands.

Kill the spare. Voldemort's words. That phrase haunted Harry. It was his fault. It was his idea to have them take the cup together. Cedric was killed because of him. It was his fault. It gave him many sleepless nights. And the nights he did sleep were filled with nightmares. Nightmares that he screamed himself out of most every night. And promptly received a beating for.

Yes. It was going to be a very long summer. Harry hoped he would survive it.