#[ char: arabella chambers ]

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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @aubsenroute, @somebodyswatson

Chapter Twelve The Wandless Witch

Lily gingerly turned the page of the charred book in her lap. Regulus had salvaged the book from the library, and had suggested that it might be intriguing to her. Judging by the tight, old-fashioned script, the book must have been as old as Hogwarts. Deciphering it in the early morning light was a challenge, but the content was well worth the effort.

The title, no longer legible on the blackened cover but neatly scripted above the table of contents, read, The Sigilic and Somatic Secrets of Sorcery. Lily had never heard the word somatic before, but after a few days decoding the book, she understood that it meant something to do with hand movements for spell casting. It had been strangely thoughtful of Regulus to give the book to her, damaged and ancient as it was.

Ever since the duel at the Diggorys’ had cost her her wand, she had been working hard to use magic without one. Her memory of the Chamber of Secrets was ever-present these days. She had failed to protect Harry then, had been helpless against the diary and the basilisk without her wand. She would never let herself be that helpless again.

Lily set the book down on the tea table and focused on the pocket watch resting beside it. Locomotion Charms had always come easily to her, so it was what she had decided to start with. She bit down on her lip and focused, stretching out her hand and her mind to the watch, willing with all her might for the watch to fly into her hand.

But focus was so hard to come by, especially here in the parlour. Her mind was stretched across too many fears and too many worries. There was Harry and James, Remus and Sirius, Tonks and Picksie, Regulus and Petunia, and the Weasleys and the Prewetts and the Longbottoms and, and, and…

With a long, tired sigh, Lily picked up the pocketwatch.

The face of James’ watch was almost entirely red, with only the tiniest golden crescent on its edge, representing the last vestiges of the waning moon. The golden numerals illuminated against the bloodred backdrop showed that it was hardly past noon, and James had told her she was not allowed to panic until three.

She hated waiting. She had hated it in the first war, both waiting to be grown up enough to fight and then having to hide away from it all. Now here she was, waiting again, for James to come home and for Harry to confide in her.

At least Harry had not left Grimmauld Place yet. There was some small comfort in that.

Sirius had been by a few times, but he spent most of his time with the Tonks. In the last month, the Order had settled into something fairly stable, at least when compared to any point since Dumbledore’s death. Moody and the Diggorys were tucked away with Arabella Figg, who had a lot more room in her home since the Ministry had seized her Kneazles and revoked her breeding permit. Lily, James, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Regulus were more or less stuck in Grimmauld Place, though James and Regulus slipped out for information, using their Animagus forms when they could. Harry had offered James the Cloak, but James had refused. He had said that Apparating onto the top step was challenging enough and he didn’t want to worry about keeping the Cloak over him each time he did it.

Lily had left exactly twice, both times to check on her sister. Hestia Jones was employed as Vernon’s new secretary, so that he could still go to work and have someone watching him. Picksie and Emmeline stayed at the safehouse with Petunia and Dudley, and discussions about how to get Dudley back to school safely were growing more tense by the day.

“I thought you’d have this wrapped in a week,” Petunia had sniffed last time she was there.

“James and I spent nearly two years on the run last time.” Lily tried so hard to be patient, but she had lost patience for her sister many years ago. “It’s not like I can just wave a wand and make it all go away.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just do magic.”

“That’s not how magic works —”

“I mean why you can’t do magic at all. I see that — what did you say she is? An elf? — She does magic all the time. She certainly doesn’t use a wand. Must be nice to wave your hand and have the dishes clean and the beds made.”

“Elf-magic is different,” Lily had protested, but with far less energy than her earlier arguments.

Lily had bought that wand at eleven years old. Petunia had come along for that trip to Diagon Alley — her first and last trip. The Evans family had walked into Ollivander’s shop, eyes wide at the stacks of boxes lining the walls from floor to ceiling.

“I suppose we just pick one out?” her father had asked and reached for one of the boxes.

“Don’t, dear, you’ll knock them all over,” her mother had warned.

A cough had startled them, and when they had turned around, a wizened old man had limped out from the back of the shop.

“Welcome, welcome!” he had said, and surveyed each of them. “Now, which of you lovely ladies will be chosen by a wand today?”

Lily dabbed at the corner of her eye as tears welled up alongside the memory and reached for the old, damaged book. She remembered how dismissive they had all been with Remus when he had lost his wand a few years ago, and she regretted that attitude now.

Of course, were Ollivander’s shop still an option, she would have replaced her wand without hesitation. It hurt to lose the wand she had carried since childhood, but it was more painful to be utterly useless in a war that her husband and son continued to fight in. Still, she could have had more patience with Remus. It seemed that Lily was always having to learn patience, from the time she had fallen down the stairs before she could quite walk, just to keep up with Petunia, to nearly forty years later, sitting in this ancient house, waiting for James to come home.

The light in the parlour continued to shift east as Lily pored over the ancient text, read theories on how blood might channel magic as easily as a wand. It was full of pureblood drivel, which she supposed should not surprise her from a text in the Black family library, but if she could read past that, she might find what she needed to hone her wandless casting.

Despite her intense focus, the sound of a chain rattling in the doorway broke Lily’s concentration. She abandoned the book and watch and hurried down the stairs. She reached the entryway just in time to hear James murmur, “I didn’t kill you,” and the ghostly figure of Dumbledore dissolved into nothingness.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

“Morning, Lils,” he murmured into her cheek and kissed her back. His unshaven face was scratchy, but she didn’t complain. She was just glad to have him.

“You made it past the crowd outside.”

He grunted. “There’s about six or seven out there. Surprised they didn’t bring You-Know-Who himself. I mean, what do they expect? We’re just going to take Harry down to King’s Cross like everything’s normal? Like they aren’t out for our blood?”

“Maybe they think we don’t read the paper.”

“I wish we didn’t have to.”

Lily looked down at the rolled up paper in his hands. These days, the Daily Prophet told them at least as much as they learned from the Order, even if they had to read between the lines to understand it.

“I’m afraid to ask how things can get worse than suggesting that Harry is a murderer and rounding up Muggle-borns for questioning.”

“I don’t know if it’s worse, but…”

James waited until they were settled in the parlour to show her the front page. Lily had hardly sat down when she shot to her feet.

“Snape?” she spluttered. “How? Where’s McGonagall —”

“It certainly puts the mandatory Hogwarts attendance policy in a new light,” James said. “And the Carrows have been named as professors for Muggle Studies and Defense.”

Lily paced the parlour, unsure what to do with the rage burning in her. A Death Eater, in charge of Muggle Studies? What were the students going to learn? And what would happen to the Muggle-born students? She wondered if they would simply be separated from the others, or sent off to Azkaban.

Lightning danced between Lily’s fingertips and she itched for something to do with her hands, something to hold onto. She itched for her wand.

James leaned back into the sofa and watched her pace. His steady gaze only added to her anger.

“How can you be so calm about this?” she spluttered.

“I’m not calm,” he said evenly, “I’m absolutely furious. I keep picturing Snape sitting in the Headmaster’s office, with Dumbledore’s portrait behind him.” James paused, and she watched his fingers tap against the arm of the sofa before following the familiar path through his hair. “There’s nothing we can do, Lily. We can’t take over Hogwarts anymore than we can take over the Ministry.”

“Why not?” she snapped, fully aware of how foolish a question it was. “Why can’t we just take the Ministry back? I’ll depose Thicknesse the way I did Lockhart and Umbridge.”

She wasn’t exactly joking, but James smiled.

“Sirius asked me the same thing.”

Lily paused, her anger momentarily tempered by concern for their friends. James took advantage of her hesitation and gestured for her to sit down beside him.

She went, both willingly and reluctantly. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. She could hear his heartbeat, pounding as quickly as hers.

“How is Sirius?” she asked, though saying anything that did not address her anger felt reaching down her throat to pull rocks from her stomach.

James ran a hand through his hair again and glanced out the parlour window. “Alive.” His adam’s apple bobbed and she imagined he was reining in his anger as much as she was trying to rein in hers.

“Has he done something to upset you?”

“No, not Sirius.” He bit down on his thumb. “I think you and I should visit Remus this week.”

Lily frowned. “We’ve talked about this. It isn’t safe. The Ministry is watching them, hoping Ted will come home. If they catch sight of me or Harry —”

“Remus isn’t with Tonks and Andromeda.”

“Where is he?”

“Sirius thinks he’s back with Frank and Alice, which would make sense. They have the largest space, probably are under the least suspicion, and there’s no reason for the Muggle-born Registration Commission to stop by.”

“Certainly an easier place for us to drop by,” Lily said. “But if Remus didn’t feel safe with Andromeda and Tonks, why not come here? Why not stay with us?”

James hesitated, and the way he would not look at Lily made her nervous.

“Tonks is pregnant.”

As it so often was, Lily’s first response was anger. It flared in her chest, hot and heavy. She struggled to douse it, struggled to remind herself how just an hour ago she had tasked herself with being more patient, especially with Remus. She decided that, for the moment, the best thing to do was to focus on Tonks.

“How far along?”

“In Sirius’ unprofessional, self-taught opinion? About ten weeks.”

She evaluated her anger and attempted to at least keep it out of her voice, even if she couldn’t banish it entirely. “How long has Remus known?

“He found out after the wedding. I think that the day Ted left was the day Tonks told everyone, more or less. But I’m getting all of this second hand through Sirius, and you know how dramatic he can be.”

“And we’re only just finding this out because…?”

James shrugged. “Because Sirius didn’t want us to worry? Because he hoped Remus would come to us? I didn’t ask.”

Lily was unable to hold her anger in any longer. “What is Remus thinking? Surely he remembers what it was like for us with Harry! How could he think that Tonks —”

“I don’t think he does remember,” James said, so softly that she almost missed it. “He wasn’t really there for most of it. It was Sirius and Peter who saw us most. We saw him for the New Year and… that was it.”

“So you’re defending him?”

James looked at her, and she could read quite plainly that he didn’t appreciate the jab. And in his defence, it wasn’t a fair one. Of course he understood her anger. He always did.

“He’s scared,” he said, “and I want him to know he isn’t alone. That we’ve been through this before. I think we can help.”

Lily bit down on her lip and looked down at her hands. She tried, desperately, to set aside her anger. She had never understood how James could appear so calm, even in his anger. He said it came from his mother’s etiquette lessons and from hours spent with old ladies at garden parties. Sirius had once said it was because James’ temper was a glacier, cold and smooth on its surface, but hard and unforgiving underneath.

Lily tightened her fingers in his and squeezed, as if she might take some of his coldness to abate her own fires. She needed a bit of his patience.

Last summer, she had lost her temper on Remus, and had accused him of avoiding Tonks because he was a werewolf. She had claimed to understand his fears because she was Muggle-born. And it was true that there were times she and Remus understood one another, times they both knew what it was to be an outcast. But there were also times that she had no idea what he was going through. She might brew a potion for him monthly, and she might help with his burden, but she could never bear it for him, and would never truly know what he went through.

“I know you care about him, James,” she said, “so please trust that I say this with love, not anger, but I think Remus is alone in this.”

He pulled his hand away and got to his feet. It was perhaps a harsher rejection than shouting might have been. “How can you say that? We know what it’s like —”

“We don’t, James. We’ll never know what it’s like to be Remus. We will never live with fear the way he does. I don’t know that we can help him with this.”

James shook his head. “Remus is family, Lily. He doesn’t get to do this alone.”

“When Remus is ready to talk to us, he will.”

“He’s too stubborn for that.” He ran his hands through his hair and let out a slow, deep breath. “Do you remember why we only saw Remus a few times during the first war?”

“He was doing missions for Dumbledore. We were on the run. He and Sirius weren’t speaking. It was an unfortunate constellation, but there was nothing we could do about it.”

“But this time we could do something about it.”

Lily picked at the hem of her skirt, rearranging it and flattening it unnecessarily. But it was easier to look at her skirt than to look at James. “Do you remember what I said to you last time, when you asked why we couldn’t spend more time with Remus?”

James was quiet. She wondered if it was stubborn anger or reluctant acceptance. She risked a glance at him, but his hard face didn’t give her any clues.

The door creaked, startling Lily. She searched her pocket instinctively for her wand before remembering she no longer carried one.

Though James, too, reached for his wand, neither of them needed it. It was only Harry who pushed the door open.

His dark hair was tousled and his eyes tired, but he smiled at them. “Dad, I thought you were out for the Order today.”

“Just for the morning,” James said. “You have me for the rest of the day.”

“Oh — that’s perfect then.” Harry glanced between them. “Er — is everything alright?”

There was only the briefest hesitation. “Of course,” James smiled, “well, except for what’s in The Prophet but that’s never good news.”

Harry eyed the paper on the tea table. “Is that Snape on the front page? I expect he hasn’t been arrested, or the two of you wouldn’t look so murderous.”

James looked to Lily, as if he were asking her permission to share their conversation, or perhaps he was asking her to do it for him.

“Why don’t we all take lunch together,” Lily suggested. “Bad news goes down better with food.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, eyes still on the paper. “Ron, Hermione, and I have something to share with you, too.”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up and her heart leapt, too. She was afraid to hope, but hope came anyway.

“Food sounds excellent,” James said. “I’ve been out since before the sun and would love a bite to eat.”

“I’ll find Regulus,” said Lily. “I’m sure he’ll want to hear our news, too.”

The current residents of Grimmauld Place reconvened in the kitchen beneath the house. It was cooler down here, which made it the most popular room in the house — or it had been, before Hermione’s library had taken over the table.

She had stacked up several of her rune dictionaries to make space for food. Rolls of parchment were piled on one side, along with a quill and ink. Lily cast a cursory glance over the notes, but she didn’t glean anything unusual in them, nor any clues about what Harry wanted to share with her and James.

While James helped Kreacher in the kitchen, Lily gave everyone the good news of Tonks’ pregnancy and the bad news of Snape’s promotion.

As Ron and Harry protested, Hermione snatched the paper from Lily. Her lips trembled as she read.

“They won’t stand for this,” Ron said. “McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout — they were all there with us. There’s no way they’ll accept Snape as —”

Hermione shot to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” And she disappeared upstairs. Ron watched her go with raised eyebrows.

Harry pulled the article towards him. “The Carrows?” Their name dripped from his mouth like poison.

“Who’re they?” Ron asked.

“They were there when Snape killed Dumbledore,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “They’re teaching Defense and Muggle Studies? How could anyone let this happen?”

“No one let it happen, Harry.” Lily hoped her words were comforting.

“No,” Regulus said, “someone certainly did. Every time someone let a comment about Muggle-borns go unchecked, even the harmless ones, they let this happen. Every time someone was allowed to separate and divide, to ignore truth, they let this happen.”

His words hung in the air as thickly as the smell of cooking sausage, and Lily didn’t quite know what to say. All of them, even her, must have let a comment slide once or twice. Ignored for pride, or to keep peace. Regulus, with his background, was likely the worst offender of them all.

Hermione broke the uncomfortable silence by running in, out of breath, and lugging a portrait half her size.

Regulus got to his feet. “What are you doing?”

Hermione pulled her beaded bag off the table and put it on the floor. With some difficulty, she placed the corner of the empty painting inside the bag and began to push. “I had only just remembered,” she said. And though it took some doing, the painting disappeared into her bag.

“Phineas Nigellus,” she explained. “He was a Headmaster at Hogwarts, and Snape could use him to spy on us. But let him try it now and all he’ll get is the inside of my handbag.” She sat back down at the table with a rather smug smile on her face.

Regulus stared at her with an open mouth. Finally, he said, “Surely a curtain would have sufficed.”

“He’d still be able to hear us.”

“But — you can’t just take the portrait —”

“I’ll return it when Snape’s no longer Headmaster.”

Regulus glanced around the table, and perhaps sensed he had no support in this fight. He sank back into his seat and looked down at his lap. Lily thought he looked rather like a sulking toddler.

“What did you want to tell us, Harry?” James asked, as he and Kreacher set out plates.

Lily was glad that he asked. She had been restraining her curiosity, afraid her eagerness might make Harry change his mind.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Hermione said. “He’ll be expecting us to go there!”

“That’s why we’re inviting them,” said Ron.

“Inviting us where?” Lily asked.

“We think —” Harry started, and Hermione coughed. Harry rolled his eyes. “I think it would be a good idea to visit Godric’s Hollow.”

Lily frowned. “Whatever for?”

“Dumbledore grew up there. And it’s the place I first defeated — well, Peter did, I mean, but he thinks it was me — and I think there might be something important there.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You think You-Know-Who left something in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Maybe. Or Dumbledore did.”

Lily pursed her lips. “But you won’t tell us what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t even want to tell you that we’re going,” Harry said, “but Hermione thinks it would be better if we had the Order with us.”

“I think it would be best not to go at all,” Hermione corrected. “I think You-Know-Who is waiting for us to show up there and it’s dangerous, but I’ve been outvoted.”

“You’ve agreed to a compromise,” Ron said. “The compromise is we bring backup.”

Lily looked over the three of them in search of any clues about the quest they had been handed. It hurt that it had not been Harry’s idea to involve her and James, but she was grateful for the chance to protect him.

“When did you want to go?” James asked.

“Tomorrow,” said Harry. “The sooner we go, the less time the Death Eaters have to prepare, if it is somewhere that they expect us to explore.”

James stared down at his breakfast, and Lily knew that he was thinking of Remus. She reached over and squeezed his hand.

Years ago, when Harry was only days old, James had asked why they couldn’t make the brief outing to see Remus.

“I’m worried about him,” James had whispered, afraid to wake the baby in his arms.

“Remus is an adult,” Lily had whispered back. “He can take care of himself. Harry’s the one who needs us. Harry comes first.”

Now, Harry was an adult, but he still needed them. And as long as Harry needed them, for however much longer that might be, Harry would come first.

“Of course we’ll go with you, Harry,” said James. “I wish you’d tell us a bit more about what we’re expecting to find.”

“I wish we knew a bit more about what we’re supposed to find,” Ron snorted.

“I still think this plan is foolish and unnecessary,” Regulus said. “But I have given you my opinion on where you should be looking, and I will not repeat it.”

“But you’ll come with us,” Harry said.

Regulus looked down at the Daily Prophet and avoided Harry’s gaze. “I think I would be better served pursuing other avenues,” Regulus said. “You are not the only one who was given a task to do.”

“We would appreciate the backup,” Lily said, as James, simultaneously said, “We can take Remus instead.”

Lily took a moment to weigh her anger against her compassion. She had vowed to be more patient, after all. “If Remus will come,” she said, “I know I’d be glad to have him.”

“Remus would be good back up,” Harry said, and turned to Regulus, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t come, too.”

Regulus folded up the newspaper and got to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to join you. Thank you for the news.”

As soon as Regulus had gone, Ron shook his head. “Why does he do that?”

“He’s always been like this,” James said. “I suppose when you grow up with Sirius, you learn very quickly to choose your battles carefully, and that the easiest thing is to walk away before an argument even starts.”

Lily did not understand why Harry leaned so heavily on Regulus, who seemed no more supportive than a two-legged stool, yet refused to lean on her and James. But she held her tongue. Lashing out at Harry would not work — had not worked. She drummed her fingers against the table. “If the five of us are going to —”

“Six,” James corrected.

She sighed. “— Six if Remus comes — are going to leave here tomorrow, we’ll need to be very well prepared.”

“Harry should be under the Cloak,” James said. “If we’re discovered, you’ll be protected.”

Harry shook his head. “I won’t run —”

“You’re no good to us or the Order dead.” James’ voice was firm and unflinching, though Lily’s stomach twisted at his words. “If we’re caught, you run. You can always arrange an Azkaban breakout later.”

Harry glared at James, but Lily did not think that Harry could win this fight. She remembered being seventeen, facing down a war and swearing to die beside her friends. She had not been much older than Harry was now when she had stood between Voldemort and Harry’s cradle. She had nearly died to protect Harry. And then what would have happened? Voldemort would have killed her, only to kill Harry?

A wave of sorrow crashed over her for a brief moment, as she realised how unfair it was for Harry to live the very life she and James had fought to protect him from. She took in a deep breath to steel herself.

“It’s a hard lesson to learn, Harry,” she said, “but sometimes you need to run.”

“You should be under the Cloak,” he said. “You don’t even have a wand.”

It was so tempting to rise to Harry’s temper. She swallowed down her frustration, reminded herself of the many, many times she had admonished Sirius for meeting Harry’s anger with anger.

“I’ll be fine without one,” she said, in as even a tone as she could manage. “You’re the one they want, and we’ll all be safer if they don’t know you’re with us.”

Harry’s fierce glare shifted between her and James.

“Fine,” Harry snapped. “I’ll wear the Cloak.”

It was a small concession. It wasn’t everything Lily wanted. It wasn’t secrets and answers, but it was something. It was a promise that Harry would do his best to stay safe. It was a promise that Harry would live.

“We’ll leave at dawn, then,” said James. “I’ll get word to Frank and Alice to expect us shortly before that. You can all be ready to leave as soon as I get back with Remus?”

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all nodded.

“I’m coming with you,” Lily said.

She could see in his eyes that he wanted to protest, but she returned his stubborn gaze. She was not going to sit here and hide. She was tired of waiting. Besides, he was the one who had said they should both talk with Remus.

James’ shoulders slumped. “Fine.”

Hermione packed her books and parchment back into her bag while Harry and Ron did the dishes. The house was quiet, a sort of quiet Lily remembered from the first war, a familiar calm before the storm.

Despite the quiet, she did not feel especially well-rested when she and James stepped out of Grimmauld Place in the dark hours of the morning. She surveyed the park across the street and the few streetlamps illuminating the walkways.

“How many do you think are out there?” she whispered as he took her hand.

James followed her gaze and grimaced. “Hopefully less than half of what there was this morning. And hopefully less where we’re going.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll have to be quick when we arrive. Are you ready?”

She nodded and together, they Disapparated.

The magic pulled on her body, collapsing her into James and unfolding her in a single breath. Her feet hit the ground and she had hardly gotten her bearings when James hurriedly pushed her inside a large iron gate then down near the attached wall. She crouched low against the stone as footsteps pounded up the path behind them.

“I heard someone Apparate!” a voice shouted.

Lily held her breath and wished her heart would stop pounding. She was afraid it would give her away.

“There’s nothing here,” someone else said.

A light swept over the pathway, inches from James’ feet. She couldn’t exactly fault him for being unable to draw his ungainly legs up against the brick as tightly as she had drawn hers, but if his tall form was going to be the thing that got them into a duel tonight, she might have some words for her younger self and her fixation on lanky men.

“The gate’s still shut,” the second one said. The light swept away from the house and their hiding place. “Maybe they ran off that way.”

James and Lily listened as the footsteps faded away. They waited until the night was silent once more to even breathe.

James stood and pulled Lily to her feet.

“How did we get in without opening the gate?” she whispered.

“Alice Transfigured a couple of the bars to be flexible,” James replied, voice barely audible.

James Muffled their footsteps as they walked the rest of the way up to the house. Instead of approaching the large red doors, however, James led Lily along the side of the house to a back entrance. He knocked twice, paused and knocked a third time.

Lily did not even have time to register who opened the door when she was yanked inside and drawn into a hug.

“Oh!” Alice squealed, high-pitched but restrained, as she squeezed Lily. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Lily smiled and hugged her back. “It’s good to see you, too.” Though she couldn’t see much; it was as dark inside as it was outside.

“Is Frank here?” James asked.

“He should be home soon. He took a late shift so he could see Neville off to Hogwarts yesterday.”

Lily may not have been able to see the worry on Alice’s face, but she could hear it plainly. “You let him go?” she asked.

“Neville was rather insistent, especially when he saw the paper.” Alice took Lily’s hand and pulled her through the dark room and down a corridor where there was at least light coming from a sitting room, though Alice did not take them into the room. “He said he wouldn’t let us risk our positions at the Ministry. Said we were too valuable to the Order. He’s a good one. I don’t think Frank and I deserve him.”

“Neville will be alright,” James assured her.

“Of course he will,” Alice said. “He’s my son, after all.”

Even in the dim light, the pride etched into Alice’s sadness was clear. Lily wondered if Neville knew just how much his parents adored him.

“Remus is upstairs,” Alice said. “I’d keep your wands dim as you go up, though. The last thing we need is to give the Ministry an excuse to search us.”

Lily imagined an unexplained light sweeping over a curtain was the exact sort of excuse the Ministry could use to barge into the Longbottoms’ home. At least the Longbottoms had some pretext of protection.

She clung to James’ hand, trusting him to guide her through the dark, and trailed her other hand along the wall until they reached the entryway to the Longbottoms’ home and the grand staircase that led up.

“I assume you know where we’re going?” she whispered.

James didn’t answer, or he nodded and she didn’t see it in the darkness, but he did lead her upstairs, to the right, and down another corridor. James knocked softly on the door.

It creaked open and Remus’ voice, full of bitter and melancholy, greeted them. “Alice mentioned you were coming by.”

Lily swallowed down a sarcastic, “Good to see you, too,” and followed James inside without comment. She heard the rustle of curtains, then a small light, no brighter than a match, appeared in the center of the room. It was dim, but after so long in pure darkness, Lily had to blink to adjust to it.

In the low light, Lily could make out the scant furniture of Remus’ room: the shadow of a bed and a bedside table, a heavy curtain pulled closed over the window, and the tall dark shape of a wardrobe. Next to the wardrobe, Remus’ trunk sat open, its contents spilling out of it in messy piles.

James took a seat on the floor by the wardrobe and Lily slipped into the space between him and the trunk. There was something about the darkness, the small room, and the secrecy that reminded her of being teenagers again, sneaking around behind professors and prefects, but this time the fear of being caught did not provide excitement like it had then. This time the fear was overwhelming.

As Remus joined them on the floor, the light lowered until it, too, rested on the rug.

After a moment where no one spoke, Remus said, “I know what you’re here to say, so say it and go.”

Lily bit down on her tongue. She wanted nothing more than to tell Remus how of course she wanted to be with Harry, how she had tried to talk James out of this visit because Harry came first, and that Remus ought to take a page out of their book and show the same devotion to his own child, but she didn’t. She took in a deep breath and decided to let James do most of the talking.

But James hesitated, almost as if he had been relying on Lily’s temper to start the conversation. When she didn’t start, he said, “I guess if you know what we’re going to say, we don’t need to say it. So why don’t you tell us why you’re here.”

Remus kept his eyes on the closed curtains, almost like he was watching for light or movement. But the moon was dark tonight. The low light in the room cast harsh shadows across his face, and his scars stood out in sharp relief, shimmering silver lines across his nose.

When Remus finally spoke, his voice was faint and raw. “You were there, at the World Cup. You were there in Azkaban. You’ve witnessed hundreds of transformations. You’ve had at least a glimpse of what it’s like. You tell me what I deserve, for giving that life to someone else.”

Lily’s temper flared, hot and bright. She bit down on her tongue and steeled herself against it. She turned her words over in her head, tumbled the rocks of her anger in the waves of her compassion until their edges were smooth, until she was certain that she could speak without sharpness.

Finally, she said, “No one deserves to be a parent. No one deserves the power to give life so freely, to have such control over another human being. None of us are perfect, and we will inevitably pass our flaws on no matter how hard we try to instill our graces. I also know that it isn’t an easy job to do alone. When you proposed to Tonks —”

“I didn’t.” Remus ran a hand over his face. “She asked me because she knew she was pregnant. She didn’t even want to get married, she never wanted any of this…”

“You know that isn’t true.” Though James’ words were soft, his tone was firm. “We’ve all agreed that Tonks is pack now. She’s family.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small gold rings. He slid them across the floor and to Remus.

“Before your dad arrived and ruined our plan, Sirius had me make these. The inscription was his idea, though I did the Charm work myself. I never was as good as you at getting the Call-And-Response Charm to work, so it’s a bit simpler than your handiwork on the map.”

Remus looked down at the golden rings. They were nothing but plain bands, with no indication of magic or intrigue.

“What’s the incantation?” Remus asked.

“You’ll figure it out,” James said.

Lily took in a deep breath and tried to mimic James’ gentleness. “You said that James has had a glimpse at what things are like for you. If your child is like you, don’t you want them raised by someone who knows what they’re going through? Don’t you want to make sure that they don’t have to feel alone?”

“She has a point,” said James. “You can’t expect your kid will get lucky enough to find school mates willing to break Wizarding law just to turn themselves into Animagi out of sheer arrogance.”

If it was supposed to make Remus laugh, it didn’t work. If it was supposed to make him cry, James came very close. His lips trembled and he pressed them into a firm line. He blinked a few times and managed to compose himself before the tears could quite fall. Lily couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of how even his voice sounded when he spoke again.

“You don’t think I made the wrong choice, choosing Tonks?”

Lily did not know how to answer. She looked at James, who kept a steady gaze on his hands as he twisted his wedding band around his finger.

“You know I can’t answer that for you,” he finally said. “No one can. But if you’re that worried about it, talk to her. Talk to both of them. Don’t shut yourself away like this. We’re family, Remus, all of us.”

The silence in the wake of James’ words was heavy, but Lily hoped it was a good sort of heavy. She was proud of herself for not losing her temper, and proud of James for listening to Remus, rather than pushing for solutions — a flaw she and James both struggled with, especially when dealing with Remus and Sirius, who more often than not just needed to be heard.

When it was clear that Remus had nothing more to say, Lily decided it was appropriate to change the subject, and she recounted Harry’s request to Remus.

The melancholy on Remus’ face faded slowly as she spoke, giving way to worry and confusion. “Why Godric’s Hollow?” he asked.

“He said Dumbledore’s left something there,” James said, “or You-Know-Who has. They aren’t entirely sure, and wouldn’t say more, but they’re involving us, so that’s progress.”

Remus rubbed his jaw and stared down at the small light between them. “You haven’t any idea what they’re looking for?”

“None.” James ran a hand through his hair. “I still don’t know why Dumbledore would keep anything from us… or Harry, either.”

There was pain in his voice, so disparate from the bitterness that Lily felt towards Dumbledore. She took his hand and squeezed it. She was angry with Dumbledore for this secret, and angry with Harry for choosing to keep it. James, however, was hurt, more than she truly understood.

“I suppose it’s possible there’s some clue left behind in the wreckage,” Remus murmured. “Didn’t the Ministry scour it pretty thoroughly?”

“I couldn’t care less what the Ministry has or hasn’t done,” Lily snapped, grateful to have an appropriate outlet for her anger. “Besides, I’m sure Harry, Ron and Hermione know to look for something the Ministry doesn’t.”

“You’ll come with us, won’t you?” James asked.

Remus nodded, though his gaze was still distant, still puzzling over the plan. Perhaps James was right to invite Remus, to give him something to do other than wallow in misery and self-loathing. Maybe this was the best way to nudge Remus back to his friends. Certainly it would be more effective than a sanctimonious outburst from her.

Lily stood. “We’ll let you get together what you need, then.”

She and James left Remus to gather what little he had, but before the door closed, blocking out all light, Lily caught sight of James’ small smile. It was the same fond smile he had given her during an Herbology class in their sixth year, when she had excitedly announced that her Flitterby bush was blooming. It was the smile that had finally convinced her that she was officially in love, though it would take her a few more months to admit it to anyone else. It was full of pride and love, the sort of smile Lily wanted nothing more than to kiss.

So she did.

He laughed softly as her mouth touched his, and he broke the kiss but pressed his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered, “not just for being patient with Remus but for understanding why I needed to bring him with us.”

“I imagine Sirius already did most of the scolding,” she said. “I was happy to just listen.”

This time he kissed her, and laughed too.

When Remus was ready — he did not have much in the way of things to pack — they whispered good-byes to Alice.

They left by the door they had come through and crept around the house with muffled footsteps. It was difficult to see with no moon to light their way; they had only the faintest grey on the eastern horizon and the occasional light of a fairy drifting from one bush to another to mark the path.

They stopped as they reached the gate. James easily found the pliant iron bars, and once he had, he helped Lily through.

They moved more slowly this time, choosing caution over speed, and trusting silence and the darkness to protect them. Lily would regret that choice for the rest of her life.

Remus was halfway through the gate when Lily heard footsteps coming up the path again. She turned, unsure if she should shove Remus back or yank him through. There was no time for a decision as a light landed on the three of them and someone shouted, “There!”

A red spark would have struck Lily in the chest if she hadn’t stepped to the side.

Remus cursed as he reached for his wand and stumbled out of the gate. He drew just in time to put up a Shield Charm, providing cover for James. Two charms crashed into it, the sound loud against the otherwise silent night.

Their attackers were running towards them now, and it was not a question of whether Remus’ Shield could withstand their blows, but a question of if they could Disapparate in time.

Lily grabbed James’ hands and pulled him through the gate.

“Remus!” She clung to James with one hand and reached for Remus with the other.

The shield dropped and Remus grabbed her hand. She felt herself fold into James as he Disapparated the three of them, her body compressing with the familiar pressure — and then an unfamiliar pressure struck her.

She didn’t have time to realise what was happening until they reappeared on the top step of Grimmauld Place and she saw that one of their assailants had grabbed her leg at the last minute.

She kicked the man in the face, dislodging him and sending him backwards down the stairs.

“Oh no,” she gasped, as a pair of cloaked Death Eaters emerged from the park across the street.

“They’re there!” the man shouted and pointed. “They’re —”

“Silencio,” Remus whispered, and the man’s words died in his throat.

“That won’t buy us enough time,” James hissed, wand already pressed to the door, undoing the locks.

“I’ll buy you time,” Remus said.

Lily grabbed his arm. “No — if you’re caught —”

The door swung open and James pushed Remus and Lily inside. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Finite!” one of the Death Eaters shouted.

“No!” Lily shouted, reaching for James’ hand to pull him inside.

“There!” the man shouted. “Can’t you see them? They’re still standing on the steps of number twelve!”

“It can’t be you or Remus.” James pulled his hand away and Lily choked down a sob. “Take Harry and go.”

The thick black door closed, and Lily hardly felt the Tongue-Tying Curse wash over her. She was already choking, already fighting down every piece of rage and sorrow that surged within her.

If someone had asked her an hour ago what James had said to her on that Halloween night sixteen years ago, she might have been able to guess, but hearing it again in his voice, in the same anxious pitch, triggered the memory of that night as clearly as if she had fallen into a Pensieve. Her chest was tight and her breath came in short spasms, but his words also spurred her into action.

She ignored the distorted, ghostly image of Dumbledore rushing towards her, and left for Remus to deal with. She passed right through it and mounted the stairs two at a time. She threw open the door to Ron, Harry, and Hermione’s room.

“We’re going, now!” she shouted.

“What’s happened?” Ron asked. He was only half-dressed and hastily pulled a shirt over his head. “I thought we had said dawn —”

“Death Eaters are here.”

That got them moving.

She leaned over the bannister and shouted down to Remus, “Have you seen Regulus?”

“He was in the study,” Remus said. “He’s taking Kreacher.”

Lily cursed. Of course the house-elf would have been the easiest way out and of course Regulus would take Kreacher for himself, rather than offering all of them the quick Apparition trip. Then again, maybe it was for the best. Kreacher might intentionally Splinch any one of them.

“Kitchen window?” Remus suggested.

Lily’s lips trembled and she looked back over her shoulder. Harry had his glasses on and was pulling the Cloak over his shoulders as Hermione fumbled with her beaded bag.

“Follow Remus to the kitchen,” she told them.

“Mum —”

But Lily was already running down the stairs. She crashed into the wall, knocking over a portrait and waking up Walburga. Lily ignored the screams and hurried for the door.

She didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t have a wand. She couldn’t do as much as lift a pocket watch.

As Lily wrenched the door open, she recalled the author’s words on intention and focus being the keys to casting, which she also remembered from her studies in Charms. When casting, she had always envisioned what she wanted to happen. The book had suggested there was a need greater than the effect of magic. She needed to picture the cause.

James had not gone far; he defended the bottom of the steps valiantly. Though he had never been able to produce a sizeable Shield Charm the way she and Remus could, he was quicker than either of them, able to deflect and return fire with an admirable accuracy. A red spark shot towards his left, and he stepped aside while returning fire with a matching curse. His target crumpled into the pavement.

Lily was not going to be helpless. She focused on her magic, on the spark inside of her, on the things she felt when she cast — anger, love, fear, and joy, the things that filled her and fueled her. She imagined her magic sparking in her fingertips, like flint igniting tinder. She focused on that power, on that fire, and stretched her hand out to the nearest Death Eater.

There was a loud bang and he stumbled backwards, robes ignited. The flames were easily doused by the Death Eater’s partner, but it gave James the time to Stun them both.

He turned back to her with his eyes full of wonder and a stupid grin on his face.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she smiled.

“Where’s Harry?”

“I’m right here.” Harry pulled the Cloak down, and Lily jumped.

“Merlin, Harry, I told you to go with Remus —”

“You ran off without a wand, Mum. I wasn’t going to let you fight alone!”

James sighed. “Harry, you promised us you’d run if —”

“Incarcerous!”

Lily had not seen the Death Eater recover from James’ Stunner, but she saw the ropes spring from his wand and yank James down into the pavement. He hit the ground with a crack and she stretched her hand out to —

To what?

She did not have the accuracy needed to free James. She could perhaps Conjure an explosion, blast the Death Eater away —

The Death Eater rolled up his sleeve revealing a bright red brand on the inside of his forearm. He grinned at her — no, not at her, at Harry — as he pressed his wand tip to it and the brand turned black.

What was it she had said to James all those years ago?

Harry comes first.

She did not know if it would work without a wand, but she did not know what choice she had. She wrapped her arms around Harry, closed her eyes, and focused on her destination: Godric’s Hollow.