Author's Note: Ok, I'm gonna try to put a new spin on an old story. Namely, the following story you are about to read is, in most respects, AU. Harry has a twin--a sister, to be exact. Lily Potter is still alive. I do not have any particularly events that would constitute HBP/DH spoilers in mind, but as I have read all seven books I likely won't think about it, so you might want to read them before reading this. If you have constructive criticism or advice for me, kindly state it in a review. If you think that I'm just beating a dead horse and are immediately biased because of it, leave--I will not pay attention to story-bashing reviews. That said, please R&R, if you have some advice or you like the story, or even if you dislike it for a reason that you can explain in detail, as that would count as constructive criticism. With no more ado, I give to you--Phoenix Tears.
Chapter One
First Flight
"Lily, grab Harry and Kathryn and run! I'll hold him off!"
"James, he'll kill you!"
"If I die so that you and the kids can live, I would gladly give my life, now RUN!" James' bright hazel eyes met Lily's emerald green ones, and love of unspeakable depth passed through their gaze. James knew that his death would crush Lily, but he also knew that he could live with that, if only Lily managed to get to safety with their children. It was their lives that mattered, not his, as much as his fear hated for him to admit it. Yes, he knew it--he was afraid. He would be insane not to be, knowing that any minuet now Voldemort, wizard kind's version of the embodiment of evil, would come crashing through the door, and would kill him in an instant. But James hadn't been Sorted into Gryffindor for nothing--he had the courage to master his fear, to resist it, to lock it away, in the face of the greater good--in this case, his wife's life, and the lives of their children. He couldn't know then that it meant the lives of everyone, wizard and muggle alike, as well.
Without saying a word, Lily ran to James, kissing him fiercely, saying everything in the world and more in that simple, passionate exchange. "I will always love you," she murmured, emerald eyes bright with unshed tears. She ran then, as James had told her, sparing one last, pained look, before disappearing.
An explosion shook the house on its very foundation, and James whirled around in time to see the door blast forward off its hinges, a tall, cloaked figure stepping into the house through the smoke. "Well, well, well, Potter. I thought I might find you here," Voldemort said, his voice high and cold, his scarlet, slitted eyes gleaming from an impossibly pale face. The irony of the situation was not lost on the dark invader, who proceeded to laugh in the same high, cold pitch that sent shivers up the spines of even the most stalwart of men. "No doubt you're wondering," he continued, savoring the distress and panic radiating from the man before him, "how it is that I managed to find you here?" Voldemort obviously wanted some sort of input from James, but his mouth was clamped tightly shut, his teeth near grinding together he was clenching them together so hard. When he didn't speak, Voldemort continued. "Your friend Wormtail was such a wealth of information. It was far easier than I predicted--you would have been better off with Black as your Secret Keeper; I would have had the satisfaction of being able to kill him." He shook his head, though a sadistic smirk still twisted his thin, pale lips. James seemed to wilt inwardly at this knowledge, having perhaps suspected that Peter had been shifting his loyalties all along, but never willing to believe it. Perhaps he believed that Peter would have died for his friends, as James, Sirius, and Remus would have died for him.
"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed suddenly, giving James no time to respond or attempt to dodge; he was aparently finished toying with his food, as he watched James Potter writhe on the floor and scream in agony, his face alive with intense satisfaction and gratification. When the dark wizard lifted his wand, James couldn't do anything but lay, panting, on the floor at his feet. "I will have you know one thing, before you die, Potter," Voldemort said, obviously deriving sick, stone-hearted pleasure from this aspect of torture. He waited until James had recovered his strength enough to lift his head and fix a venemous stare on the Dark Lord, before continuing. "Your wife and children will die; they have no way to leave the house." Satsfied with the degree of horror and pain reflected in James' hazel eyes, he brought the game to an end. "Avada kedavra!"
"MAMA!" The tiny shriek of a very frightened three-year-old girl tore through the small apartment the small family of three shared. The three-year-old boy in the bed beside her awoke almost instantly, as though more than the noise had jolted him from sleep--as though he, too, had suffered from the same horrid nightmare, and was simply the second to wake for it. He began crying as well, and in seconds their mother ran into their room, dark red hair in dissarray, emerald eyes fearful.
"What is it, darlings?" she asked, her voice gentle and soft as she first went to the boy's crib and smoothed his hair, black like his father, before hurrying to the girl, who had inherited her mother's dark red locks. After quieting both of them, she scooped each one into an arm, carrying both with the strength only a mother can manage, and settled down on the couch, holding both of them tightly. "What happened, Kathryn, Harry? What was the matter?"
The girl, Kathryn, started hiccoughing, rubbing the tears of fear that had leaked from her eyes, before responding. "It were a terrible dweam, mama," she whispered, shuddering and burrowing into her mother's side. "It were howwible," Harry agreed from her other side, when she planted a kiss on his forehead.
"What was it a dream about?" Lily Potter asked, all too afraid that she knew the answer.
It was Kathryn, again, who answered. "There was lotsa gween wight, and... and it hurted awfullmuch! It were... it were wike..." The small child had trouble finding the words, as did Harry, who was vigorously nodding. They gave up the search for a proper description, the thought too frightful for them to bear. Lily didn't need them to tell her, though--she was certain that they had both had the same dream, and she knew what it was about. The night James had died, the night Kathryn and Harry received their scars, the night Voldemort only spared her because... because Severus had begged him not to, or so Dumbledore had told her. But her children were too young to understand--they were too innocent, too pure. She didn't want them to be exposed to such horrors until it was absolutely necessary. It was her bias as a mother, wanted to protect her young from all the dangers of the world, but Dumbledore agreed that, especially now, they were too young to know their destinies, to know the fate that had claimed their father, to know what might await them. That discovery was for another night, another time... one Lily hoped would never come.
"Mom, Mom, Mom! The letters are here!" The voices of two eleven-year-old children chanted, running through the house with the Hogwart's letters clutched tightly in eager fists, seeking out their mother. They found Lily Potter in the kitchen, preparing supper. She laughed at their eager smiles and expressions, pride and happiness radiating through her entire being as she let them ramble on and on about what shops on Diagon Alley they wanted to visit first, what items they were most excited about, what books they would read first... in the meantime, Lily was cooking their dinner and thinking. Thinking about how, over the years, several opportunities to explain to them just what their existences meant to the wizarding world, just what had befallen their father over a decade ago, just what their destinies would entail, just how they had attained their scars--Kathryn and Harry had matching scars, like sideways lightning bolts, which would match up perfectly if they rested their foreheads against one another. There had been many opportunities to explain just why they had to be prepared for so many things... and yet, she never had explained, not fully. All Kathryn and Harry knew was that a dark wizard had killed their father, tried to kill them, and, on failing, disappeared, never to be heard from again. She didn't say so, but she knew that her children believed he had gone forever--she had as good as alluded to it. It was horrendously selfish--at least Lily could admit that to herself. She knew just why she had never explained anything to her children--she wanted them to remain pure, innocent, untainted... she wanted to be able to protect them from the harshness of the world forever, she wanted them to be able to hide behind her skirts while she blew away anything that threatened them. She wanted them to be safe, and secure, and whole... forever. A part of her--the logical part--knew that that wasn't possible, knew that they would have to learn how to protect themselves eventually, would have to leave her side and protect the wizarding world, without the advantage of some older, powerful, more experienced person to aid them and protect them if anything went wrong. But it was the selfishness of a mother, the unwillingness of a mother to let her children come to any harm at all; it was compounded by the fact that Lily had lost James, and she knew at least some of what destiny lay in store for her children, something she wanted to hold off as long as possible. She wanted her children to remain the carefree, happy souls sitting at the table... she wanted it never to change, as futile as such a wish would always prove to be.
"Do you have everything? Books, robes, wands, Hedwig, Artemis?" Lily Potter asked earnestly of her two children, before ascertaining that they had everything they would need, and kneeling before them. They were twins, and they looked remarkably similar--the same delicate facial structure, the same skinny, gawky stature, the same height and, probably weight... but in terms of colorization, they were in stark contrast to each other. Harry looked just like James, almost exactly, except he had inherited Lily's emerald green eyes. Kathryn was just the opposite--her hair was long and wavy, a dark red like her mothers, but her round, bright, mischievous hazel eyes were all James. Except for physical structure, they could be thought completely unrelated. "Are you sure you have all your clothes? Plenty of fresh socks and underwear?"
"Lily, c'mon, stop pawing at the poor kids!" came a slightly rough, happy voice, followed by a barking laugh.
"Sirius!" Harry and Kathryn squealed in unison, wheeling around as one and jumping on Sirius, hugging their Godfather as tightly as they could.
"Hey, Kitty, Harry," Sirius said in his barking laugh again, mussing each child's hair with one hand. "I had to see you guys off on your first day of school, didn't I?" he asked, when the two Potter children asked why he was there. "Ol' Moony's around here somewhere, too, I know he is," Sirius added in a musing tone, gazing through the surrounding crowds. "Hey, Remus, REMUS!" Sirius finally bellowed, to catch his old friend's attention. Remus Lupin glance up and around, his weary face nevertheless looking alive and youthful with the smile spreading across his features.
"Hey Lily, Kat, Harry!" he exclaimed, as Kathryn and Harry raced over to hug 'Uncle Remus' too.
Lily was laughing, green eyes bright in a way they really hadn't been since James died--she was happy in her children's youthful happiness. However, when the scarlet Hogwart's Express blew its whistle, she flew into Frantic Mom mode again. "On the train, come on, you'll be late!" she said, tutting as she herded them to the nearest door, just before it closed. Kathryn and Harry leaned out of two nearby windows, waving and waving, Lily, Remus, and Sirius waving back, until the train turned and they were out of sight.
"They'll be fine, Lils," Sirius said in a low, comforting tone, as the three of them made their way back down the station's platform. Now that Harry and Kathryn were off on their own for the first time since their births, Lily's face had become drawn and pale with worry, eyes darkening in something akin to despair--she hadn't been prepared for the abrupt separation, and now she wished she could have homeschooled them or something, to keep them safe by her side.
"You know you can't protect them forever, Lily," Remus said in his soft, oddly soothing voice, like he had read her mind. Well, he probably hadn't needed too--her emotions were being broadcast for all to see from her face, at the moment.
Lily sighed heavily, rubbing her hands over her face, trying to ease the stress evident there. "I know," she said, her voice strained and slightly resigned. "I just... I wish I could." She had to fight back tears, as images of Voldemort returning and hunting down her children flashed through her mind. Remus and Sirius each placed a hand on one of her shoulders, comforting her just with there presence. No words were needed, not right then. Ever since their Seventh Year of Hogwarts Lily had been like a fifth Marauder, to them, and they had become even closer out of a need to take care of Lily, when James had been killed. I don't think they really know how comforting they are, Lily thought, swallowing the lump in her throat and forcing herself to project calmness. But by Merlin, I don't know what I'd do without them.
The three adults, lost in their own thoughts, wordlessly comforting each other, released each other and disappeared just before the entrance to muggle London, three resounding pops sounding throughout the now-empty station.