"Rose!" Lily Potter shrilly screams, running to the bassinet that her child was in. James, her husband, was completely still, motionlessly sprawled out on the wooden floor, his wand inches from his hand, and his unbeating heart growing cold. Lily picked up her child, "It's going to be ok, baby, it'll be ok." she comforted her, holding her lovingly for the last time. Then she heard a threatening voice. "Lily Potter, aren't you? I'll make sure your legacy never continues." Voldemort says, then quickly casts a spell, "Avada Kedavra!" he yells as Lily falls forward and d1es, dropping her daughter, Rosetta Grace Potter, in the bassinet. Then Voldemort turns to the little baby girl. The girl cries softly, inching herself to the edge of the bassinet out of fear. Voldemort yells, "Avada Kedavra!" but nothing happened. The girl didn't d1e. She was perfectly fine, with the only difference being a lightning shaped scar on her forehead. The scar that would make her famous. The scar that cursed her. The scar representing to the world that she had been chosen to save the wizarding community from destruction.
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