I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
I always knew my mother had passed on her seer-like abilities after her death - murder, actually - but I never realized the extent. It should've been obvious from the first time I went to Saint Mungo's. My first overnight stay there had started fine - and yet - the moment my father tried to take a pillow from the bed to fluff it - I freaked out.
It must be exhausting always rooting for the enemy
The healers say I screamed bloody murder and even stunned him with some obscure spell that no nine-year-old - no matter how brilliant or studious - should've been able to know, no less have the magical core to perform it successfully.
I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money
From that moment on, my father kept his distance and I had no such qualms about it. He never outright ignored me or neglected me, but he never got quite as close or comfortable with me again. Something never felt right about him again. So, I spent my days with our neighbors, the Weasleys, and my only friend, Ginny.
She thinks I left them in the will
However, it all made sense when on my eleventh birthday, a letter arrived from Gringotts, the Wizarding bank run by goblins. My father said it basically was about what mum left behind after death - which happened on the same day I was born. He claimed that, while I was required to be there, I didn't have to pay attention and he would explain all the adult lingo at a later time.
The family gathers 'round and reads it and then
From the moment we arrived, the goblins paid me for attention than the man beside me. "Heiress Lovegood" is what they called me, with such a familiarity that I didn't understand. As they were reading the will, they listed things out for many names I didn't recognize. However, when they got to my name, they started to look at each other and my father with wary eyes. "To my dear daughter and heiress, I leave you all my other possessions and the money in our bloodline's vaults. You are the only one allowed access with assistance from my most trusted account manager," at this, my father lashed out.
someone screams out, "She's laughing up at us from hell"
At that moment, I realize who I was in my past life - my mother. He killed my mother and stole me from her before she even gave me a name. Father may have given our bloodline an heir, but the bloodline is not his. It stopped being his bloodline the moment he spilled our lines' blood. He stole from her, just as much as he stole from me. He ripped away her chances of motherhood, and he ripped me away from my only mother. He may have given an heir but took the House's Lady. And now, he is paying for it.
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me