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Lily Luna Potter (the_lily_luna) wrote in expresslogs,

Lily couldn't relate. At all. She'd grown up in a time of peace, of happiness, with her family intact and unharmed. War stories were just that -- stories. They were things in her past that weren't real to her the way they were real to the people who'd lived through them. She knew they were events that had happened, but she couldn't completely understand the reality of it. Not that she meant any disrespect, and she did try to understand ... but it was beyond the scope of her reality.

"I suppose," she replied in regard to a moment of bravery. She couldn't recall any particular instances in which she'd been particularly brave, but she also didn't have a war in her time.

"You had a different professor every year for that, didn't you? That was the time when it was cursed." Lily shifted her weight. "I only had two," she admitted. "One up through my fifth year, and a different one for my last two."

All things considered, Lily still wasn't at a point where she was interested in hearing any praise for her father. She was still sore about the whole punching thing, and would be until he fixed it. If nothing else, she'd inherited her relatives amazing ability to hold grudges. So she simply nodded to acknowledge what Neville had to say on the topic of her father.