Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned here belong to me, they all belong to JKR. I wish they belonged to me, cause I'd be a millionaire if they did, but they don't, so I'm not.
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Harry was sound asleep in his four-poster bed when he awoke with a start. He looked around. There didn't seem to be a reason he had woken from his dreamless, peaceful sleep. But then he heard a voice in his head, whispering to him.
"Harrycome down. Come downstairs. To the common room. No one else is awake; you won't be seen. Come downstairs."
"Why?" he said aloud. "Who are you? How can I trust something I can't see?"
The voice laughed - a gentle, soft laugh - and replied, "But you can see me. Come down. You'll see. I promise you, Harry, nothing's going to happen. I only want to show you the truth."
The way the voice was speaking reassured Harry. For some reason, he trusted this voice. He put a dressing gown on his thin, shivering shoulders and went down to the Gryffindor common room.
Once there, he look around curiously. There was no one there. "Where are you?" he asked. "Come out where I can see you."
"As you wish," the faceless voice replied. Suddenly, a ghostly form began to shape itself in front of the fireplace. Harry's eyes widened as he backed up, wishing desperately that he had brought his wand with him. He opened his mouth to call for help, but found that he couldn't talk. His throat was locked shut.
"I'm sorry I had to do that, Harry, but I only have tonight to tell you this, and I don't have time for interruptions. Besides, don't you know who I am?"
He shook his head, even more frightened.
"Harryyou should know me. You're not thinking. Look into my eyes."
Harry obliged, and then gasped in recognition. The ghostly, unreal eyes that stared into his face were mirror images of his own!
"Mum? Is that you?"
The ghost laughed. "Yes Harryit took you long enough to recognize me. Still, you haven't seen me for what, 13 years, so I supposed it's only natural."
"Mum! It is you! How long can you stay?"
Lily's face saddened as she looked at her eager son. "I'm sorry Harry, it's only for tonight. I can't go back after tonight, this is it for me, I've wandered the lands of the living for too long. There are restrictions for me, you know."
"But couldn't you stay and be a Gryffindor ghost or something? They'd love to have you, I know they would!"
"HarryI just can't. My fate is already determined. This is my last night among the living and I have to tell you something. A story, in fact. And it might take a while. So sit down and make yourself comfortable. No, I don't want to hear any 'but's. And you have to promise not to interrupt until I'm done. This is something you have to know."
Lily's story:
You knew that I went to Hogwarts, that I got into Gryffindor and met your father there, that I was a bright girl and a model student, and the rest of it. But no one here knew the half of it. Despite what Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall may tell you, I wasn't that much of a good girl. In fact - Harry, forgive me - I was a spy for Lord Voldemort. I thought I told you not to interrupt. Hear the end before you say anything. My assignment was to dig out the talented ones who might be persuaded to serve the Dark Lord - but not the ones from Slytherin. That was why it was such a hard job. The people I had to find were all Gryffindors or Ravenclaws. The ones with the talent, determination, and knowledge to allow Voldemort's plans to succeed. In fact, that was the reason I started dating James Potter - he was smart, and so good at magic. I knew He would want me to keep track of someone like James. I spent 7 years undercover there, hiding my special powers from the teachers, hoping Dumbledore never noticed that I was a little bit different. I know what you're thinking. You don't believe it. You don't believe that I would ever have been put into Gryffindor if I was working for the Dark Lord. Well, Harry, I'll let you in on a little secret. I have believed for a long time that the Sorting Hat is faulty. It only looks at what you are when you're 11, and then everyone treats the result like what you are at 11 is what decides your life's course. Which is nonsense. But anyway, at 11, I hadn't been influenced enough by Voldemort to understand what I was doing, which is why I ended up in Gryffindor. To get on with my story - after I graduated from Hogwarts, James and I got married. I hadn't wanted to - but Voldemort told me it was necessary for the cause. By the time Voldemort got around to me again, about eight years later, we had had you. I knew by then that James would never convert to Voldemort. I figured that when the Dark Lord came for James, I could get out with you and raise you to lead the Dark forces with Voldemort - sort of his second-in-command. I knew you'd be smart enough for it, and we'd both have all the power in the Dark Forces - and money - that I ever wanted. What I didn't know was that Voldemort had found out about you, Harry. I thought I had convinced him that it was just I who would leaving. But he found out, I still don't know how, and decided that he had to kill you too.
When He came for James, I had to play the part of a frightened mother, getting out of the way, and letting my oh-so brave and valiant husband stand alone against the mighty Dark wizard. I was sitting back in your bedroom, waiting for Voldemort, waiting to hear the sound of my husband dying in the living room. I don't know why - but I was crying. I had never actually killed someone before, or even seen someone die. And what I had done was just as good as being James' executioner.
When Voldemort came, he was smiling. He asked me if I wanted to take a look at the man I had killed. I said no. Then he saw you.
I will never forget the look on his face. He looked at me - I had you in my arms, Harry - and he told me to put the baby down or I would die with it. I asked what he meant. And that was when he told me, Harry. He told me that he had come to kill you. James was a side note, he was the decoy that was meant to make me think that everything was going according to plan. It was you he wanted. Don't ask me why he thought a little baby boy could hurt him. I still don't know.
Harry, even though I let him kill your father, I couldn't let him murder you too. I stood there and tried to fight him, but in the end, he was too strong for me. I remember how I didn't even feel the pain of death - it was just a merciful blackness, blotting out my hurt. Death, when you're in so much pain, isn't a bad thing at all. The worst thing, I think, that could ever happen to anyone is to keep living forever - with the knowledge of everything wrong you've ever done, with everything you've ever done to hurt someone - to keep on being forever. That wouldn't be living. That's merely existing.
And look at you now. You've fought off Voldemort so many times it makes me and James seem like nothing. Harry, you'll be a hero one day. Just remember - I love you.
Epilogue
Back at the Gryffindor common room, Harry stared at the ghost of his mother with tears in his eyes. "How could you do that? How could you do that to James?"
"Harry"
"No! Stay away - stay away from me. You betrayed him! You! Did Pettigrew help you? Or was he just someone you framed, so no one would ever find out?"
"I didn't know about PeterI thought it was just me," Lily said, her head bowed in pain.
"You don't deserve to be called my mother. You - you" Harry's voice trailed off.
"Harrylisten to me. Please." Daylight was beginning to creep into the common room. "Don't you think I regret ever having helped Voldemort? I did love James, Harry. I did love him. I didn't know it, but I did. I think the first time I ever knew was when Voldemort told me he had to kill you. I didn't want him to - but not because I wanted to take you with me. It was because you were the last thing I had to remind me of my husband. It was too late for him by then - but it wasn't too late for you."
Harry still stared at his mother, but now there was less anger and more tears in his eyes. There were soft voices now, upstairs in the dorms. Soon they would come down and find Harry talking to a ghost. Lily saw her son's pain and made her last decision in the living world.
Ghosts do not have magic by themselves. However, Lily asked - no, begged - for the magic to do this last thing.
"Harry - forget. Forget this night. Forget it all."
Harry's eyes closed in sleep. When his friends came down, they would find him on the sofa, asleep, as though he had been that way all night. And as he slept, a deep peace came over him, and he forgot. He forgot what the ghost of his dead mother had told him. He slept in a deep, dreamless peace.
And Lily's ghost began to fade out, leaving her son lying there.
"Harry? Harry! Wake up! We have to go for breakfast!" Ron's voice rang through the Gryffindor common room. "What were you doing down here anyway?"
Lily smiled through her tears - and left, never to be seen by her son again. "HarryI love you."
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R&R please! Hope you like it! It's my first real fanfic!