"Harry, what are you-" He raised his hand and gently brushed her forehead with his fingers. And, in a matter of seconds, she went still, eyes downcast and mouth formed into a straight line. "You know what you have to do."

He could still remember the children that cuddled together in a useless attempt to keep themselves warm, dead the next day. You didn't even know who was dead, they all looked like corpses when they slept. Their chests barely heaving and their malnourished bodys mangled together. He also remembered what Mrs. Cole alsways told him: "God does not shine upon you, Tom Riddle."

She walked down the corridor of Azkaban, her footsteps echoing in the hallway making the situation even more frightening.

"And so, little Red Riding Hood left the woods and she, her grandmother and the hunter lived happily ever after-" Lily was interrupted by her sons snoring, who must have fallen asleep somewhere between the middle and the end of the fairy tale. "I can understand him, are Muggle fairytales always that boring?" - Or: Lily tells Harry a bedtime story, James interrupts.