Plot twist after plot twist
(Early 1981, Jasmine: Seven Months Old)
The world tilted again, and I felt myself being pulled into another moment.
The darkness around me flickered, shapes sharpening into focus—
And suddenly—
I was in Potter Cottage again.
The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting golden light across the room. The scent of butterbeer and faint smoke from a burnt spell lingered in the air.
On the plush red rug, Baby Jasmine (Aww, so cuteeeee) sat wiggling herself, dressed in a tiny onesie covered in snitches. Her unruly black curls were sticking up at all angles, and her big green eyes were locked onto the two men in front of her.
Sirius Black was lying dramatically on his stomach, propping his chin up with his hands, looking deeply offended. (Gosh, so handsome. My soon-to-be godfather looks like that Superman—not the new one, the OG Superman.)
Remus Lupin sat cross-legged beside him, watching with mild amusement, a book resting on his knee. (He’s also pretty pretty. If I had to describe him, he looks like Andrew Garfield—with lots of scars on his face and neck.)
"Come on, princess, say it," Sirius urged, eyes wide with desperation.
Jasmine—the baby version, not the one watching—giggled, gripping a stuffed wolf in one chubby fist and a stuffed dog in the other.
"Say it," Sirius tried again, voice pleading. "Say Padfoot!"
Baby Jasmine’s little brows scrunched together in intense focus.
Remus nudged Sirius with his foot. "She’s a baby, Pads. Give her time."
"She can say it," Sirius insisted. "I believe in her!"
James, lounging on the couch with a sleeping Lily curled against him, chuckled.
"You’re putting way too much pressure on her, mate," he said, grinning.
But Sirius was determined.
"Come on, sweetheart," he coaxed, pointing at himself. "Pa-foot."
Baby Jasmine opened her mouth.
And then—
"Pafoo!" (AWWW)
There was a brief, stunned silence.
James snorted so loudly it startled Lily awake. "Wazzgoinon—?"
"Lils, she just said Pafoo!"
"Really? Yayyy," Lily mumbled sleepily, sitting up.
Sirius had frozen, blinking rapidly.
Then—suddenly—his face lit up like the sun.
"YES! PAFOO!" he yelled, punching the air victoriously. "MERLIN, I LOVE THIS CHILD!"
Baby Jasmine, clearly delighted by his reaction, clapped her hands and babbled, "Pafoo! Pafoo!"
James was laughing so hard he nearly fell off the couch. Lily managed to catch him, her body shaking with laughter.
"You are a genius!" Sirius declared, eyes sparkling. "Absolute prodigy! I always knew you were my favorite!"
James gasped in mock offense. "Oi! I thought I was your favorite!"
"You lost that title the second she said ‘Pafoo,’" Sirius shot back.
Remus, now calmly sipping his tea, sighed dramatically. "It’s fine. I’ve accepted my fate. No one ever picks Moony."
Baby Jasmine’s green eyes shifted to Remus and, with the utmost seriousness, she pointed at him and said—
"Moomy."
(BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.)
Remus’s mug slipped from his hands and landed on the carpet with a soft thump.
James wheezed. "DID YOU JUST—"
Sirius collapsed onto the floor, howling. "I CAN’T—SHE THINKS YOU’RE HER MUM—"
Lily had fallen on the floor and was cry-laughing.
Remus had his face in his hands, groaning. "This is it. This is my legacy."
Baby Jasmine, pleased with herself, clapped.
"Pafoo! Moomy!"
Sirius looked like he might die of happiness. "James. James, I’m keeping her."
"She’s not a bloody puppy, Pads!" James laughed, shaking his head.
But Sirius wasn’t listening. He had already scooped Baby Jasmine up into his arms, spinning her around while she shrieked with laughter.
Remus, meanwhile, was staring into the void, muttering "Moomy" under his breath.
James reached over, patted his shoulder sympathetically, and said, "Face it, mate. You’re never living this down."
Remus groaned in defeat, hands over his eyes.
The memory faded, leaving me staring at the empty space where it had played.
I let out a short, breathless laugh. That actually happened.
They had loved Jasmine. Not just in the way adults love a baby, but in a way that was wild and ridiculous and theirs.
I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to smother the sobs. This won’t be the same anymore. My heart ached for this baby.
—Next memory will play. Are you ready?
No, I am never ready, but I don’t have a choice, do I?
—I am sorry, [redacted].
I hope Baby Jasmine is with them. She deserves it.
—Yes, she is currently playing with her parents.
Aww.I will live life to the fullest for you, Jasmine.
(Mid-1981, Jasmine: Eleven Months Old)
The world tilted again, and I was yanked into another memory.
This time, I found myself in the Potter living room once more. The air was warm, the scent of parchment and faintly burnt toast lingering. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
Baby Jasmine sat on the rug, her chubby fingers clutching a soft toy rat as she gnawed on its tail, her tiny legs kicking happily.
(Okay, first of all—adorable. Second—what is she chewing on? I swear if that’s an actual rat, I’m going to need a moment.)
A figure sat in front of her, hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. His fingers trembled slightly as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe. His usually shifty eyes, the ones I’d only ever seen darting away in guilt and cowardice, were locked onto the floor, unfocused.
He looked wrecked.
Baby Jasmine, oblivious, giggled, her tiny fingers reaching out toward him.
"Wormie!" she chirped.
(Wait, hold on—THAT’S PETER?!? What in the young Brad Pitt is going on here? Why does he look like he walked straight out of a vintage romance novel? Am I in some kind of alternate universe where Peter was hot??)
Peter’s head jerked up, his hair falling into his face like some tragic hero in a period drama.
A flicker of something painful passed through his features before he forced a smile. Thin. Wavering. Barely holding together.
"That’s right, little bug," he murmured, reaching out to ruffle her curls with a shaking hand.
I watched him carefully. His body language was screaming. His knuckles were white. His shoulders were drawn tight, like a spring about to snap. His gaze flickered, just for a moment, toward the doorway.
(Why does this feel… wrong? Suspicious? I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.)
Baby Jasmine, still lost in her own world, thrust the stuffed rat toward him, grinning.
"Wormie play!"
Peter swallowed thickly.
For a moment, he just… stared at her.
Then, with hesitation, he reached out and took the toy. His fingers curled around it tightly, like it was something solid, something real to anchor himself.
"You’re a good kid, Jaz," he whispered. "The best, really."
Baby Jasmine clapped her hands, delighted.
Peter exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at her again.
And then—suddenly—
He broke.
His face crumpled—his whole body went rigid—and before I could even register what was happening, he was reaching forward, pulling baby Jasmine into his arms.
The action was desperate. Tight.
(Okay, what in the emotionally devastating character arc is going on here? This is NOT the behavior of someone who willingly betrayed their best friends. What is happening?)
Peter’s breath hitched against baby Jasmine’s curls.
"I’m sorry," he choked out.
Baby Jasmine just giggled, patting his face with her tiny hands.
Peter flinched. His grip on her tightened, just for a moment.
"I’m so sorry, bug," he whispered again, his voice cracking. "I—I don’t—" His breath stuttered. "I don’t have a choice."
(Okay. Nope. That’s it. That’s officially the most terrifying sentence I’ve ever heard. What do you MEAN, you don’t have a choice?!)
Baby Jasmine, of course, didn’t understand. She just smushed his cheeks between her tiny hands, her face scrunching up.
"No cwy, Wormie!"
Peter let out a shaky, humorless laugh. It shattered halfway through.
He pressed a lingering kiss to her curls, holding her a second longer—like he was memorizing the moment—before gently pulling away.
When he looked at her again, his eyes were red-rimmed, but he was smiling.
(Okay. I take it back. I don’t hate him. But I do need answers, and I need them now.)
A voice called from the hallway.
"PETER!"
He startled.
"Coming, Remus!" he called back, voice steady.
Then, he looked at baby Jasmine one last time.
A deep, shuddering breath.
He placed the toy rat gently back in her lap.
Stood up.
And walked toward the door.
He paused at the threshold.
For just a second—he hesitated.
Then, without another glance—
He stepped into the shadows and disappeared.
The memory dissolved around me, and I was left standing in the dark.
With more questions than ever.
(Mid-1981, Jasmine: One Year Old)
The world lurched again, and I barely had time to brace myself before I was yanked into another memory.
This time, I landed in the Potter living room, and oof, the air was thick with tension.
James stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight I was genuinely concerned it might snap. (Whoa there, sharp jawline alert. Not my dad technically, also he’s dead, and I died, so let’s just not unpack all that right now.)
His hazel eyes were sharp, but there was an edge of uncertainty beneath the irritation—probably because he was fidgeting with his fingers like he didn’t know what to do with them.
Across from him, Severus Snape stood with his usual broody energy cranked up to eleven. His robes were pristine (seriously, how does he do that?), his expression unreadable, but his posture was stiff.
And between them?
Baby Jasmine.
Plopped on the floor, happily chewing on one of James’s socks like it was the most delicious thing ever. (Baby Jazzy, you adorable little menace, I just wanna squish your cheeks.)
James let out a deep sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "Alright, Sniv—" He caught himself. (Good job, Jamesy, some growth, we love to see it.)
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Alright, Severus."
Severus raised an eyebrow. Pointedly.
James groaned, but powered through. "Look, let’s just get this over with. Lily said you’d be coming by. Something about unfinished business." (Excuse me?? Unfinished what now?)
Severus narrowed his eyes, tucking his arms into his robes in a way that screamed I am judging you. Then, with that signature sneer, he said, "I assume you’ve already yelled at her about our… ‘secret meetings’?"
James twitched. "Oh, I yelled," he confirmed, crossing his arms even tighter. "Didn’t talk to her for two whole days, which—let me tell you—was absolute torture for both of us, because I’m devastatingly charming and she can’t stay mad at me for long." (James and Lily’s relationship is so dramatic, I love it.)
Severus just stared, unimpressed.
James cleared his throat. "But then she explained everything." He waved a hand vaguely. "The whole thing about you not, you know, being in love with her, which—by the way—I really didn’t see coming." (Same, my dude. Same.)
Severus snorted. "Yes, because my preferences have always been of particular concern to you, Potter."
James opened his mouth. Paused. Closed his mouth. Then, after a long beat, muttered, "Alright, yeah, fair point."
Severus gave him a flat look before adding, "And for the record, had you actually listened to Lily instead of immediately jumping to conclusions, we could have avoided all of this unnecessary melodrama."
James spluttered. "Melodrama? You—" He gestured wildly. "You were meeting my wife in secret!"
Severus sighed. "Because she’s my best friend, you absolute buffoon. And you supposedly hate me."
James pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply, clearly regretting every life choice that had led him here.
Meanwhile, Baby Jasmine was still enthusiastically gnawing on his sock. (Absolute icon, zero awareness of the drama unfolding above her.)
Severus glanced down at her, his expression softening just a fraction, before flicking his gaze back up to James. "For what it’s worth," he said, voice quiet, "I saw you as competition too."
James blinked. "...What?"
Severus smirked. "I thought you were after Regulus."
James choked. "Oh—OH. I was considering—"
The sheer force of Severus’s deadpan glare could have set the room on fire.
"Juuust kidding, take a chill pill," James said quickly, laughing nervously.
Severus did not look impressed.
James let out a short, real laugh then, shaking his head. But when he looked back at Severus, the grin faded into something quieter.
"I was a right git to you back at school, huh?"
Severus raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
James sighed. "Fine, massive arse."
Severus folded his arms.
"Still am, honestly," James admitted with a shrug. "But, for what it’s worth… I’m sorry."
A pause.
Severus studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable—then, finally, with a slow exhale, he said, "I wasn’t exactly a saint either."
James tilted his head, eyeing him curiously.
Severus met his gaze squarely. "We were both at fault, Potter."
James stared for a second longer, then—without hesitation—held out his hand.
Severus stared at it like it personally offended him.
Then, with the heaviest sigh in history, he grasped it in a grudging handshake.
"Merlin," James muttered. "I can practically hear Sirius screaming from across the country."
Severus smirked. "Then this moment is already worth it."
At that moment, Baby Jasmine let out a happy babble.
Both men looked down at her.
James scooped her up effortlessly. "Yes, yes, Jazzy, it’s all true." (Honestly, I love that he’s acting like she understands every word.)
Then he looked back at Severus, a smirk creeping back onto his face. "Well, I suppose that’s settled, then."
Severus nodded. "I suppose it is."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then—
"Want to hold the baby?" James asked.
Severus stared. like every cell in his body is screaming NO.
James just grinned.
And then—before he could argue—James just plopped Baby Jasmine into Severus’s arms.
The last thing I saw before the memory faded was Severus Snape, holding baby Jaz like she was made of glass, looking deeply uncomfortable, while James smirked in triumph beside him.
Then, everything went dark.
(October 31, 1981, Jasmine: One Year Old)
I felt the familiar pull of another memory—
But something was wrong.
(Wait—No no this cannot be )
Potter Cottage again.
But it was different. Colder. Darker.
The air was thick with something heavy, something wrong. It pressed against my chest, wrapped around my throat.
And in front of me, in the crib—
My baby self.
She was so tiny. So unaware.
Golden-snitch-patterned blankets surrounded her, her chubby fingers reaching for a floating charm James had conjured earlier.
She giggled.
( I cant – I am so sorry Jazzy)
A crash.
I flinched.
The door downstairs slammed open with a force that shook the entire house. An explosion followed, rattling the walls.
I sucked in a breath.
(This is it. Oh god, this is it—)
And then—
"LILY! TAKE JASMINE AND RUN!"
James’s voice—loud. Desperate. Terrified.
My baby self jerked, sensing it. Her happy gurgles turned to whimpers, little hands reaching out, searching—
(Go. Please, go—Hurry the hell up.)
Heavy footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.
Ascending the stairs.
The nursery door burst open.
And there—
A figure.
Tall. Cloaked.
Lord Voldemort.
(I can’t do this. I can’t watch this.I tried to close my eyes but couldn’t because I was not a physical body)
James wasn’t here.
James was downstairs.
A voice—cold, detached. Almost bored.
"Avada Kedavra."
No scream.
No struggle.
Just—a thud.
(Oh my god—)
The house was too quiet.
James Potter was gone.
The baby in the crib felt it.
Her little face scrunched, a soft, uncertain whimper escaping her lips.
Lily was shaking.
She clutched Jasmine closer, pressing her against her chest, her back against the crib like she could somehow shield her.
"Not my daughter."
Her voice was small. Breaking.
"Please—not Jasmine. Take me instead."
Voldemort barely reacted.
"Step aside."
Lily’s grip tightened.
Tears dripped into my baby self’s curls as she shook her head, whole body trembling.
"Not Jasmine," she whispered. "Not Jasmine."
His sigh was almost… annoyed.
Like this was an inconvenience.
"Very well."
Green light erupted.
Lily collapsed.
The warmth in the world vanished.
(I don’t – ugh I wish they didn’t have to die )
My baby self wailed.
Tiny hands reached—but Lily wouldn’t move.
(I clamped my hands over my mouth, choking back a sob.)
She was gone.
And Voldemort—the most feared Dark Lord of all time—turned his wand on a helpless baby girl.
(N-No. No, don’t—)
A whispered curse—
"Avada Kedavra."
Green light swallowed everything.
The spell rebounded.
A horrible, inhuman screech filled the air.
Voldemort twisted.
Split.
Ripped apart.
And then—
Silence.
Thick. Oppressive. Final.
My baby self screamed.( oh baby , I am so so sorry)
A high-pitched, terrified wail.
Her forehead bled.
Her tiny body shook with the force of something too big for her to understand.
Then—
A sound.
A gasp.
Footsteps—hurried, unsteady.
Someone running up the stairs.
(I sucked in a sharp breath.is that-)
The nursery door burst open—
And Severus Snape stood there.(yep, movies showed this part correctly)
He froze.
His breath hitched—then stopped completely.
His black eyes darted around the room, taking in—
Lily’s lifeless body.
And Jasmine—the only thing left.
Crying in the crib.
His face drained of color.
His hand shook as he reached out—but didn’t touch.
"No," he whispered.
His voice was wrecked.
"No, no—Lily—Lily, please—"
His knees gave out.( I on full on sobbing now )
He collapsed beside her body, hands hovering, afraid to touch, as if his fingertips might shatter her.
"Lily," he rasped. His voice was raw, broken.
"No, you—you were supposed to be safe—"
His breath hitched.
His fingers dug into the carpet.
And for the first time in all the memories I had seen—
Severus Snape cried.
A ragged, gut-wrenching sob tore from his throat.
His entire body shook as he curled over Lily, like he could somehow shield her even now.
Tears burned my eyes.
I swallowed hard, but it didn’t help.
(Breathe. Just breathe—)
A tiny whimper.
Severus jerked.
Baby Jasmine reached for him—whimpering.
(Oh my god)
But his expression hardened.
He stood.
Jaw tight.
Face pale.
And then—
A distant sound.
A roaring motorbike.
A voice—Sirius.
Screaming from outside, his voice echoing through the night.
"No—no, NO—"
Severus’s entire body stiffened.
His breath hitched.
His fists clenched.
And then—He turned and fled.
By the time the front door burst open—
By the time Sirius arrived— and the memory fades
I covered my mouth, my entire body trembling.
This had happened.what the hell system?
-sorry [Redacted] it was necessary.-
Right , right
I knew this had happened—but watching it was different.Before they were fictional charcters, but now I saw them as real life people .
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out.
I couldn’t.
I would never, ever forget this.