“You know, the very first time I saw you, Harry, I recognized you immediately. Not by your scar, by your eyes. They’re your mother, Lily’s. Yes, oh yes. I knew her. Your mother was there for me at a time when no one else was. Not only was she a singularly gifted witch, she was also an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even and perhaps, most especially when that person couldn’t see it in themselves. Then your father, James, on the other hand. He had a certain, shall we say talent, for trouble. The talent, rumor has it, he passed onto you. You are more like them than you know, Harry. In time you’ll come to see just how much.”
so young, so young
so much pain for someone so young.The Golden Trio, Harry Potter.
An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart…
Harry’s eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn’t see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downwards, the roaring growing louder…
And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn’t… a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him -
“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?” - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
