Author's Note: Wow this has got to be the longest chapter I've
ever written. It's dedicated to Darkangel Rose for being...well my
adopted big sister. Um...oh yes. It's also dedicated to her because of
her new story, Slate (I think that's what it's called. But it's
wonderful and I love it mucholy)
Disclaimer: You know, you know. Recognizable characters do not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling and whomever she chooses to share them with. I merely love them from a distance and make no profit off of them and my frantic scribblings.
On September, the 4, Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft, and Wizardry, called one Harry James Potter into his office at precisely 6:49 in the evening. The dinner feast had finished at 6:00, and the students retreated to their separate Houses to catch up with friends after a long summer. The common rooms were filled with talk and laughter, as well as all sorts of tricks played by the incorrigible students.
Harry J. Potter was beginning his seventh year at Hogwarts and, as he waited outside Professor Dumbledore's office, he wondered what he'd done wrong on the first day of school. Students were rarely called to the Headmaster's office unless something was gravely the matter, either with family or in school. As Harry had no real living family left—he refused to count Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley as family, merely keepers—the Gryffindor deemed it correct to assume that he had done something very wrong. Raised voices filtered through the door to the Headmaster's office, and Harry, shifting from one foot to the other, went over the things he'd done that day, trying to recall anything that might have been an infraction of Hogwarts' rules.
Harry's memory came up blank just as Professor Snape swept out of Professor Dumbledore's office, pausing only to grace Harry with one of his more horrific glares. Taking this as a cue to enter the office, the Gryffindor walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" He waited, just inside the office, for Dumbledore to look up from the papers he was tucking away.
"Ah, yes. Come in, Mr. Potter, come in." Harry did so, perching nervously on the edge of one of Dumbledore's squashed, comfortable chintz chairs at the Headmaster's invitation.
As Harry seated himself, Albus surveyed the boy over crescent-moon glasses. The boy had grown remarkably, although he was still rather dwarfed by Ron Weasley, Dumbledore noted absently. And he look so much like his father, with black hair that always refused to be contained, high prominent cheekbones above hollow cheeks, and the slight, skin-and-bones build that had made both Potters such skilled Seekers. But his eyes, ah they were pure Lily, Albus recalled with a twinge of sadness. Huge and round, those vivid green eyes peered at him apprehensively from Harry's pale face. Dumbledore noted, with slight consternation, that Harry was a bit too gaunt, and his robes hung a bit too loosely on him. Perhaps a word with Petunia Dursley would be in order, reminding her to feed the boy once in a while. After all, three meals a day was much too generous from that stingy, miserly family.
"Er...Professor?" With a sigh, the Headmaster returned to the present and smiled benignly at Harry.
"So sorry, my dear boy, just remembering. However, my memory is precisely why I brought you here."
"I'm...not sure I understand, Professor." Harry frowned slightly; what had he to do with Professor Dumbledore's memory?
Dumbledore smiled again. "Perhaps I'm not being quite clear. I suddenly remembered—how foolish of me—that I have something in my safekeeping that I had forgotten until now to return to you. Something of great value."
"Oh." Harry looked taken aback. Something of his, that Dumbledore had? Maybe this year would turn out a bit more interesting.
Professor Dumbledore opened a drawer behind his desk and pulled out a black velvet box, approximately the size of a shoebox. Leaning forward in his seat, he handed the package to Harry and then leaned back, steepling his fingers under his nose. Harry eyed the container dubiously, and then moved to untie the twine that held it closed.
"A moment, Harry. I would ask that you open in only when you get back to your dormitory. And even then, only when you are alone and will not be disturbed. There are some things in that box that should only be looked at without interruption, as I believe that they are deeply emotional." Dumbledore's blue-grey eyes twinkled kindly in his old, benevolent face.
"Alright, Professor. Is that all?" Harry stood to go, clearly relieved that he wasn't about to get a week's worth of detentions on his first day of school.
"Almost. I would just like you to remember that, no matter what you may see, your parents loved you more than anything."
Harry's eyes widened, emerald green fading to bottleglass jade as he paled. So, this did have something to do with his family after all! The black- haired boy felt a fluttering in his stomach; whatever was in the box, he would relish more details about his parents. He nodded hurriedly to Professor Dumbledore's comment and bid the Headmaster good night. Once outside of the office, the Gryffindor darted down the stairs and practically ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.
As it was only about an hour after dinner had ended, there were still quite a few people in the red and yellow common room. They clustered around the fireplace, the bulletin board—were a prominent sign flashed "WEASLEY'S NEW TREATS! TIRED OF CLASSES EVERY DAY? BUY SOME OF THESE AND SKIP OUT OF ANY CLASS YOU WANT! BY MAIL ORDER ONLY"—and in one corner, a group of giggling girls hailed Harry as he entered. He waved nervously—being around girls made him abnormally anxious—and hurried up the stairs to the boy's dormitories.
He knew his dormitory would be empty; he'd seen Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom sitting with Hermione and Ron downstairs, laughing together over some shared joke. The box was soft and heavy against his hands as he climbed into bed and pulled the hangings shut around him. A spell Hermione had taught him lit the bed with a dim glow as he untied the string on the carton with shaking hands. The box opened with a clasp, and when Harry touched it, it glowed green, then melted away, leaving only a faint hint of lavender that made Harry's eyes sting suspiciously. He scrubbed at them quickly and opened the box. Inside, he found a letter addressed to Harry James Potter topmost, in emerald green ink. Putting this aside for a moment, he looked under it.
The box was divided into a few compartments. In one, he found an even smaller black velvet box, inside which was a beautiful silver ring with one small emerald set into it. Harry felt his eyes widen as he understood what the ring was. A small piece of parchment beneath the ring stated the date, June 25th, 1979. It was obviously a wedding ring. Harry put that box aside very delicately then kept going through the box.
Next, he found a packet of wizard photographs. At the top of the stack was a picture of Lily and James in each other's arms. They were kissing, and Lily was blushing. Every once in a while, James would turn to the observer and make a rude gesture before Lily would grab him again. Harry grinned, watching them, then flipped to the next picture. His grin turned to a comical wince as he saw his infant self being fed some baby food and making a complete mess of it. Lily was laughing as she tried to spoon some of the food off of his bib and into his mouth, but Harry was not cooperating. The next picture was probably taken by a bystander, as it showed Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James, and Lily all standing together in a garden. Lily was holding a red rose and blushing prettily while Remus and Sirius stood together to one side, shoulders touching. Sirius kept glancing at Remus sideways and Harry's jaw dropped when he realized what this meant. The next picture confirmed his suspicions; Remus and Sirius were kissing while Sirius waved one hand at the camera, trying to hide them from view. Lily sat in a chair in the background, doubled over laughing. Harry moved this one to the back and looked at the next picture, of Sirius, James, and Remus sitting on a blanket on some grass. It was obviously a Marauder moment; the three of them were poking animatedly at a piece of parchment with their wands. As Harry watched, the expressions on the faces of the three wizards changed from excitement to delight. Harry couldn't see what was on the paper, but it was obvious that they refused to show it to Lily. Harry smiled again and turned to the next picture. This one was of Lily when she was pregnant. She had the smile of an expectant mother, all happiness, and contained excitement. Harry grinned again at this one, then looked at the last picture. His smile slowly faded when he saw it; Lily was asleep in James' arms on the blanket from the previous picture. They looked so contented, so safe. Harry felt his eyes prickling again and wiped at them in irritation.
Harry put the pictures aside carefully and turned to inspect the rest of the contents. He found a delicate silver locket in the shape of a seashell. The front was decorated with a cursive L and a J, overlapping and flourishing to cover the entire face. Puzzled as to its significance, he opened it carefully. A small Muggle picture of Lily fell into Harry's lap but it landed unnoticed. For, when the locket opened, it began to speak.
Although he had only heard her voice as a baby, and again when she'd screamed his name, Harry recognized Lily's voice immediately. "Dear Harry. Albus has informed us that Voldemort is looking for us very seriously now. I wanted to record this for you, just...just in case something should happen to-to us."
Her voice hitched here, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I wanted to tell you that I love you, more than anything in the world—except maybe James. We'll do our best to protect you, and so will everyone else. If...if we die, Harry, you must find Sirius and Remus, when you're older. They'll take care of you."
Harry wished he'd found this before third year; he would have known to trust Sirius sooner and things might have happened differently. But it was too late for that now...Sirius was gone. Harry pulled his thoughts away from that dark alley and listened as Lily started talking again.
"If Sirius and Remus die too, find Molly and Arthur Weasley. They're brave and good people, and they have a son your age, Ronald. They'll take you in, bless them, even though they have enough on their hands. But Harry, I didn't spell this locket just to scare you. Besides carrying my message, it does one other thing. I want you to be happy, Harry, and I know this will sound horribly stupid, but this locket will help you find your true love."
She sighed in exasperation. "James is laughing at me; he doesn't think it will work. Of course, I don't need to remind him that I was the best in our class at Charms so if I can't get it to work, no one will. So just...keep it with you, will you Harry? If you feel it vibrate when you're around someone, remember me and know that they are your true love. Your heart may already know who it is; the locket will simply open your eyes to the fact."
Lily paused and when she spoke again, she sounded frightened. "We don't have much time now, Harry, love. Just remember, I love you forever and always with all my heart. James loves you too, although he's much too manly to say it. Maybe some day. Goodbye, love. Remember me!"
The locket fell silent and Harry realized that he was crying. His mother had sounded so real...like she was really there, speaking to him. Closing the locket again, he kissed it and placed the necklace around his neck, tucking it under his shirt. The Gryffindor wiped his eyes and let his eyes fall on the next object, a small glass box with a lock of black black hair in it. He picked it up and tried to open it, then realized that it wasn't a box, but a block of glass, in which a lock of is own hair had been crystallized. He smiled at it, it was shorter than his hair was now, taken when he was only one.
Beneath these objects, Harry found a good-sized book that turned out to be their graduating class yearbook. Flipping open to the individual school pictures, Harry laughed out loud. Sirius had done something fantastic with his hair, it changed colors every few seconds and stood on end—it had reached his shoulders at the time, so standing up it was quite an impressive sight. Remus looked pale and tired, but even he managed a shy smile and a very impolite two-fingered salute at the camera. Lily looked serene and beautiful, smiling at the camera in a way that showed how unaware she was of her beauty. Apparently, James had convinced her to do at least something crazy for her last Hogwarts picture for, as Harry watched, she stuck her tongue out at the camera and imitated Remus' gesture using only one finger. Harry laughed again and turned to look at James. His jaw dropped. James was shirtless, and his chest sported a large sign that looked to have been written in lipstick, with a shade that suspiciously matched the color Lily was wearing in her picture. The sign said, in rather neat cursive writing, "James loves Lily!" and the Gryffindor was grinning cheekily, as if daring someone to make him put a shirt on.
On the opposite page, Harry found a glowering picture of Snape. The younger version of the Potions professor still had greasy, limp hair that hung in his eyes and he scowled just as ferociously. But there was something different about his eyes themselves, something slightly less haunted. Harry leaned closer, peering at him curiously. Yes, that was it; he looked more innocent, if that was possible. Harry knew that Snape had been a Death Eater, even in his seventh year, but the picture had been taken before the chaos that erupted after the murder of Lily and James Potter. That was when it really began. Harry glanced back at the Gryffindor page and saw Lily and James kissing in Lily's picture frame. With a snort and a grin, the black- haired boy closed the yearbook and put it in the growing pile of things that he'd taken from the box.
Beneath the book was a pile of letters, tied in a stack with twine. Harry pulled them out and untied them in a hurry. He saw that they were letters passed back and forth between Lily and James, and sorted them into two piles by the handwriting. Lily's was neat and pretty, much like Hermione's. James' writing was spiky and small, but still readable. It reminded Harry of his own horrible handwriting, of which Hermione deplored. The black- haired boy opened one of James' letters excitedly, then snorted. They were love letters. Harry found himself reading them avidly, glad for any bit of information about his parents. As far as he could tell, James was a bloody good poet when he was tired and wasn't really trying. Lily's letters were much more down to earth than James' were, and she always admonished him in the post-scripts to finish his homework instead of composing letters to her when he could just as well speak to her. James staunchly ignored these reprimands and continued writing her five-page-long letters telling her why and how much he loved her.
Harry smiled to himself; he could almost see them, sitting in the common room next to each other, with Remus and Sirius. James would be pretending to write his Transfiguration essay but would really be covering pages and pages of parchment with scribbles of "James Lily" and letters to the redheaded girl seated beside him. Sirius would be making fun of Snape somehow, and only Lily and Remus would be really doing their homework. It reminded Harry of Ron, Hermione, and himself, seated around the same fireplace, Harry and Ron engaged in an obvious yet still heated game of wizard chess while Hermione harped on them to start their essays. Of course, they never listened.
With a contented sigh, Harry turned back to the box. There were only four three things left inside, and Harry pulled out the most colorful one first. It was a God's Eye decoration, and beautifully made. Two thin sticks of silver had been fused together to form an even-sided cross. Fine, alternating red and yellow thread had been twisted between the sticks to form a sort of web that reached almost to the ends of the sticks. The two colors spun in Harry's vision like colored spider webs, frail, and dizzying. A myriad of courage, blood, and happiness painted the small ornament poignant. The pattern was very Gryffindor and Harry smiled, thinking of his mother making this with her fine, delicate hands. Something about the fragile little charm made Harry despondent again, and he rubbed his eyes hard to keep the tears from leaking out. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the tears back until he felt the tightness in his chest and throat easing. He placed the God's Eye on top of the pile gently, and then picked up two scraps of hastily scrawled paper. One, from his mother, reminded him to brush his teeth every morning and every night in her orderly, simple handwriting. The other reminded him to always use condoms. This was obviously from James. Harry laughed again and put them aside, quietly promising both his parents to do as they asked.
The last thing in the box was a plastic bag with one perfectly white feather in it. A note taped to the bag with Spellotape said "Memory feather". Harry guessed this was the capturing of a memory inside a tangible object, much like a Pensieve. With growing excitement, he opened the bag and the feather floated onto the bed. Checking to make sure no one had entered the room while he was occupied, Harry pushed his glasses higher on his nose and touched the feather lightly with his forefinger. A bright flash of light emanated from the feather, making Harry cover his eyes quickly. Something hooked around his navel and pulled and the world became whorls of dulled colors, then flashes of black and white. Spots danced in Harry's vision and when everything stopped spinning, he fell to his knees, retching.
Since Harry was already facing the ground, it didn't take him very long to figure out that he wasn't in his dormitory anymore. For one thing, he was now on his hands and knees about hip-deep in grass. Here and there, some unidentifiable flower grew and put out a beautiful smell that stopped Harry's dry heaving almost instantly and calmed him. He stood slowly, still a little dizzy, and found that, just like in the Pensieve, he was only there in the form of a spectre.
"Lily! Over here! Look!" An excited male voice cried from somewhere behind Harry. He turned quickly, recognizing the voice instantly. Sure enough, standing at the edge of the clearing Harry had landed in was James Potter, looking newly graduated and very happy. He was pointing in front of him animatedly, apparently ecstatic to have found such a perfect clearing for a picnic—Harry saw a picnic basket hanging from one arm.
"Wait for me James!" Behind him came another person, and Harry caught his breath when he saw her. Lily was beautiful, just like in the pictures of her, and Harry immediately recognized his eyes, now gazing out at the field, sparkling with pleasure. "Oh...oh it's perfect James!" With a gladdened cry, Lily ran forward, arms outstretched to take in the wide perfect blue sky, the green grass, and the peacefulness around her. James followed at a slightly more sedate pace and, catching up to his wife, grabbed her around the waist and kissed the top of her head.
He whispered something in Lily's ear that made her laugh and swat at his arm, calling him incorrigible. James grinned cheekily and helped Lily as she knelt to set out their picnic. Harry recognized the blanket from the pictures he'd found of them with the other Marauders, but they were alone this time. They sat down to eat, talking in-between mouthfuls about Hogwarts and former students they wanted to remember. Harry seated himself nearby to observe them together. He loved watching them, the quiet peace they had, the way Lily would look at James and James would look at Lily at exactly the same time and they would both smile. When they were together, Harry felt serene and happy, happier than he'd probably ever felt before. Harry was glad that they were his parents. He felt like he knew them, really knew them, from before he was born, and he was grateful for the chance to do so.
His parents had finished eating and James suddenly jumped up, grinning from ear to ear. "Lily! I have an idea. You remember you asked me yesterday how much I loved you?"
Lily turned pink around the ears. "Er...yes. But James...what are you going to do?"
"Just go stand over there." He pointed to the far side of the meadow. Lily shrugged and got up. When she turned around, James was standing on the other side.
"LILY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" He yelled.
"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Lily answered.
"I LOVE YOU LILY! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE SKY AND THE EARTH AND THE STARS AND THE SUN AND THE MOON AND THE RAIN AND EVEN MORE THAN QUIDDITCH! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE TRANSFIGURATION AND SIRIUS AND REMUS AND EVERYTHING ELSE COMBINED!" He cried, throwing his head back to shout at the sky.
Lily laughed aloud. "WELL I LOVE YOU, JAMES! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE BOOKS AND THE LIBRARY AND CHARMS AND MAGIC AND I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE ANYTHING EVER! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MYSELF, MY BREATH, MY THOUGHTS! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN—" What she'd been about to say was to be a mystery forever as, while she'd been hollering this, James had run forward. He now grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. She gasped a moment then wrapped her arms around his neck.
Harry grinned and turned his eyes away. He looked away. And away. And away. And away. And finally, when he gave up and looked back, they had stopped kissing each other and were now sitting on the grass, holding hands.
"And that, Lily, is how much I love you." James grinned irreverently and kissed her cheek.
"Well you know how much I love you too." Lily smiled and flung herself backwards to stare up at the sky. "Look how perfect it is...completely blue, no clouds. It's so happy..."
Harry looked up, squinting. Lily was right; it was flawlessly blue, clean as an empty slate, ready for the day's events to leave their mark, just like his parents' marriage was young and clean. But unlike the sky, Lily and James would never get a chance to leave any big marks, but one. Himself. Harry blinked furiously and felt the familiar tugging at his navel. He stared at his parents hard, trying feverishly to memorize the way they looked, the way they sounded, everything. But his vision dissolved into melting puddles of quivering color, then vortexes of black and white, and then he was back in his room, kneeling on his bed. The nauseating feeling wasn't so bad this time, he just felt slightly dizzy, but it quickly passed.
He realized he was holding the white feather still, although now it was slightly grey around the edges. Maybe that meant he would only be able to see the memory a few more times before it went away. The thought made Harry sad, but he put the feather back in its bag and began packing away all the things he'd found in the black velvet box. He got up from his bed and stored the box in the drawer of his nightstand, sealing it shut with a careful Locking Charm. The locket was warm against his skin underneath is school shirt as he took off his glasses and pulled the blankets up to his chin. As Harry drifted off to sleep, he realized he was crying again, and he couldn't stop.
Disclaimer: You know, you know. Recognizable characters do not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling and whomever she chooses to share them with. I merely love them from a distance and make no profit off of them and my frantic scribblings.
On September, the 4, Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft, and Wizardry, called one Harry James Potter into his office at precisely 6:49 in the evening. The dinner feast had finished at 6:00, and the students retreated to their separate Houses to catch up with friends after a long summer. The common rooms were filled with talk and laughter, as well as all sorts of tricks played by the incorrigible students.
Harry J. Potter was beginning his seventh year at Hogwarts and, as he waited outside Professor Dumbledore's office, he wondered what he'd done wrong on the first day of school. Students were rarely called to the Headmaster's office unless something was gravely the matter, either with family or in school. As Harry had no real living family left—he refused to count Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley as family, merely keepers—the Gryffindor deemed it correct to assume that he had done something very wrong. Raised voices filtered through the door to the Headmaster's office, and Harry, shifting from one foot to the other, went over the things he'd done that day, trying to recall anything that might have been an infraction of Hogwarts' rules.
Harry's memory came up blank just as Professor Snape swept out of Professor Dumbledore's office, pausing only to grace Harry with one of his more horrific glares. Taking this as a cue to enter the office, the Gryffindor walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" He waited, just inside the office, for Dumbledore to look up from the papers he was tucking away.
"Ah, yes. Come in, Mr. Potter, come in." Harry did so, perching nervously on the edge of one of Dumbledore's squashed, comfortable chintz chairs at the Headmaster's invitation.
As Harry seated himself, Albus surveyed the boy over crescent-moon glasses. The boy had grown remarkably, although he was still rather dwarfed by Ron Weasley, Dumbledore noted absently. And he look so much like his father, with black hair that always refused to be contained, high prominent cheekbones above hollow cheeks, and the slight, skin-and-bones build that had made both Potters such skilled Seekers. But his eyes, ah they were pure Lily, Albus recalled with a twinge of sadness. Huge and round, those vivid green eyes peered at him apprehensively from Harry's pale face. Dumbledore noted, with slight consternation, that Harry was a bit too gaunt, and his robes hung a bit too loosely on him. Perhaps a word with Petunia Dursley would be in order, reminding her to feed the boy once in a while. After all, three meals a day was much too generous from that stingy, miserly family.
"Er...Professor?" With a sigh, the Headmaster returned to the present and smiled benignly at Harry.
"So sorry, my dear boy, just remembering. However, my memory is precisely why I brought you here."
"I'm...not sure I understand, Professor." Harry frowned slightly; what had he to do with Professor Dumbledore's memory?
Dumbledore smiled again. "Perhaps I'm not being quite clear. I suddenly remembered—how foolish of me—that I have something in my safekeeping that I had forgotten until now to return to you. Something of great value."
"Oh." Harry looked taken aback. Something of his, that Dumbledore had? Maybe this year would turn out a bit more interesting.
Professor Dumbledore opened a drawer behind his desk and pulled out a black velvet box, approximately the size of a shoebox. Leaning forward in his seat, he handed the package to Harry and then leaned back, steepling his fingers under his nose. Harry eyed the container dubiously, and then moved to untie the twine that held it closed.
"A moment, Harry. I would ask that you open in only when you get back to your dormitory. And even then, only when you are alone and will not be disturbed. There are some things in that box that should only be looked at without interruption, as I believe that they are deeply emotional." Dumbledore's blue-grey eyes twinkled kindly in his old, benevolent face.
"Alright, Professor. Is that all?" Harry stood to go, clearly relieved that he wasn't about to get a week's worth of detentions on his first day of school.
"Almost. I would just like you to remember that, no matter what you may see, your parents loved you more than anything."
Harry's eyes widened, emerald green fading to bottleglass jade as he paled. So, this did have something to do with his family after all! The black- haired boy felt a fluttering in his stomach; whatever was in the box, he would relish more details about his parents. He nodded hurriedly to Professor Dumbledore's comment and bid the Headmaster good night. Once outside of the office, the Gryffindor darted down the stairs and practically ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.
As it was only about an hour after dinner had ended, there were still quite a few people in the red and yellow common room. They clustered around the fireplace, the bulletin board—were a prominent sign flashed "WEASLEY'S NEW TREATS! TIRED OF CLASSES EVERY DAY? BUY SOME OF THESE AND SKIP OUT OF ANY CLASS YOU WANT! BY MAIL ORDER ONLY"—and in one corner, a group of giggling girls hailed Harry as he entered. He waved nervously—being around girls made him abnormally anxious—and hurried up the stairs to the boy's dormitories.
He knew his dormitory would be empty; he'd seen Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom sitting with Hermione and Ron downstairs, laughing together over some shared joke. The box was soft and heavy against his hands as he climbed into bed and pulled the hangings shut around him. A spell Hermione had taught him lit the bed with a dim glow as he untied the string on the carton with shaking hands. The box opened with a clasp, and when Harry touched it, it glowed green, then melted away, leaving only a faint hint of lavender that made Harry's eyes sting suspiciously. He scrubbed at them quickly and opened the box. Inside, he found a letter addressed to Harry James Potter topmost, in emerald green ink. Putting this aside for a moment, he looked under it.
The box was divided into a few compartments. In one, he found an even smaller black velvet box, inside which was a beautiful silver ring with one small emerald set into it. Harry felt his eyes widen as he understood what the ring was. A small piece of parchment beneath the ring stated the date, June 25th, 1979. It was obviously a wedding ring. Harry put that box aside very delicately then kept going through the box.
Next, he found a packet of wizard photographs. At the top of the stack was a picture of Lily and James in each other's arms. They were kissing, and Lily was blushing. Every once in a while, James would turn to the observer and make a rude gesture before Lily would grab him again. Harry grinned, watching them, then flipped to the next picture. His grin turned to a comical wince as he saw his infant self being fed some baby food and making a complete mess of it. Lily was laughing as she tried to spoon some of the food off of his bib and into his mouth, but Harry was not cooperating. The next picture was probably taken by a bystander, as it showed Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James, and Lily all standing together in a garden. Lily was holding a red rose and blushing prettily while Remus and Sirius stood together to one side, shoulders touching. Sirius kept glancing at Remus sideways and Harry's jaw dropped when he realized what this meant. The next picture confirmed his suspicions; Remus and Sirius were kissing while Sirius waved one hand at the camera, trying to hide them from view. Lily sat in a chair in the background, doubled over laughing. Harry moved this one to the back and looked at the next picture, of Sirius, James, and Remus sitting on a blanket on some grass. It was obviously a Marauder moment; the three of them were poking animatedly at a piece of parchment with their wands. As Harry watched, the expressions on the faces of the three wizards changed from excitement to delight. Harry couldn't see what was on the paper, but it was obvious that they refused to show it to Lily. Harry smiled again and turned to the next picture. This one was of Lily when she was pregnant. She had the smile of an expectant mother, all happiness, and contained excitement. Harry grinned again at this one, then looked at the last picture. His smile slowly faded when he saw it; Lily was asleep in James' arms on the blanket from the previous picture. They looked so contented, so safe. Harry felt his eyes prickling again and wiped at them in irritation.
Harry put the pictures aside carefully and turned to inspect the rest of the contents. He found a delicate silver locket in the shape of a seashell. The front was decorated with a cursive L and a J, overlapping and flourishing to cover the entire face. Puzzled as to its significance, he opened it carefully. A small Muggle picture of Lily fell into Harry's lap but it landed unnoticed. For, when the locket opened, it began to speak.
Although he had only heard her voice as a baby, and again when she'd screamed his name, Harry recognized Lily's voice immediately. "Dear Harry. Albus has informed us that Voldemort is looking for us very seriously now. I wanted to record this for you, just...just in case something should happen to-to us."
Her voice hitched here, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I wanted to tell you that I love you, more than anything in the world—except maybe James. We'll do our best to protect you, and so will everyone else. If...if we die, Harry, you must find Sirius and Remus, when you're older. They'll take care of you."
Harry wished he'd found this before third year; he would have known to trust Sirius sooner and things might have happened differently. But it was too late for that now...Sirius was gone. Harry pulled his thoughts away from that dark alley and listened as Lily started talking again.
"If Sirius and Remus die too, find Molly and Arthur Weasley. They're brave and good people, and they have a son your age, Ronald. They'll take you in, bless them, even though they have enough on their hands. But Harry, I didn't spell this locket just to scare you. Besides carrying my message, it does one other thing. I want you to be happy, Harry, and I know this will sound horribly stupid, but this locket will help you find your true love."
She sighed in exasperation. "James is laughing at me; he doesn't think it will work. Of course, I don't need to remind him that I was the best in our class at Charms so if I can't get it to work, no one will. So just...keep it with you, will you Harry? If you feel it vibrate when you're around someone, remember me and know that they are your true love. Your heart may already know who it is; the locket will simply open your eyes to the fact."
Lily paused and when she spoke again, she sounded frightened. "We don't have much time now, Harry, love. Just remember, I love you forever and always with all my heart. James loves you too, although he's much too manly to say it. Maybe some day. Goodbye, love. Remember me!"
The locket fell silent and Harry realized that he was crying. His mother had sounded so real...like she was really there, speaking to him. Closing the locket again, he kissed it and placed the necklace around his neck, tucking it under his shirt. The Gryffindor wiped his eyes and let his eyes fall on the next object, a small glass box with a lock of black black hair in it. He picked it up and tried to open it, then realized that it wasn't a box, but a block of glass, in which a lock of is own hair had been crystallized. He smiled at it, it was shorter than his hair was now, taken when he was only one.
Beneath these objects, Harry found a good-sized book that turned out to be their graduating class yearbook. Flipping open to the individual school pictures, Harry laughed out loud. Sirius had done something fantastic with his hair, it changed colors every few seconds and stood on end—it had reached his shoulders at the time, so standing up it was quite an impressive sight. Remus looked pale and tired, but even he managed a shy smile and a very impolite two-fingered salute at the camera. Lily looked serene and beautiful, smiling at the camera in a way that showed how unaware she was of her beauty. Apparently, James had convinced her to do at least something crazy for her last Hogwarts picture for, as Harry watched, she stuck her tongue out at the camera and imitated Remus' gesture using only one finger. Harry laughed again and turned to look at James. His jaw dropped. James was shirtless, and his chest sported a large sign that looked to have been written in lipstick, with a shade that suspiciously matched the color Lily was wearing in her picture. The sign said, in rather neat cursive writing, "James loves Lily!" and the Gryffindor was grinning cheekily, as if daring someone to make him put a shirt on.
On the opposite page, Harry found a glowering picture of Snape. The younger version of the Potions professor still had greasy, limp hair that hung in his eyes and he scowled just as ferociously. But there was something different about his eyes themselves, something slightly less haunted. Harry leaned closer, peering at him curiously. Yes, that was it; he looked more innocent, if that was possible. Harry knew that Snape had been a Death Eater, even in his seventh year, but the picture had been taken before the chaos that erupted after the murder of Lily and James Potter. That was when it really began. Harry glanced back at the Gryffindor page and saw Lily and James kissing in Lily's picture frame. With a snort and a grin, the black- haired boy closed the yearbook and put it in the growing pile of things that he'd taken from the box.
Beneath the book was a pile of letters, tied in a stack with twine. Harry pulled them out and untied them in a hurry. He saw that they were letters passed back and forth between Lily and James, and sorted them into two piles by the handwriting. Lily's was neat and pretty, much like Hermione's. James' writing was spiky and small, but still readable. It reminded Harry of his own horrible handwriting, of which Hermione deplored. The black- haired boy opened one of James' letters excitedly, then snorted. They were love letters. Harry found himself reading them avidly, glad for any bit of information about his parents. As far as he could tell, James was a bloody good poet when he was tired and wasn't really trying. Lily's letters were much more down to earth than James' were, and she always admonished him in the post-scripts to finish his homework instead of composing letters to her when he could just as well speak to her. James staunchly ignored these reprimands and continued writing her five-page-long letters telling her why and how much he loved her.
Harry smiled to himself; he could almost see them, sitting in the common room next to each other, with Remus and Sirius. James would be pretending to write his Transfiguration essay but would really be covering pages and pages of parchment with scribbles of "James Lily" and letters to the redheaded girl seated beside him. Sirius would be making fun of Snape somehow, and only Lily and Remus would be really doing their homework. It reminded Harry of Ron, Hermione, and himself, seated around the same fireplace, Harry and Ron engaged in an obvious yet still heated game of wizard chess while Hermione harped on them to start their essays. Of course, they never listened.
With a contented sigh, Harry turned back to the box. There were only four three things left inside, and Harry pulled out the most colorful one first. It was a God's Eye decoration, and beautifully made. Two thin sticks of silver had been fused together to form an even-sided cross. Fine, alternating red and yellow thread had been twisted between the sticks to form a sort of web that reached almost to the ends of the sticks. The two colors spun in Harry's vision like colored spider webs, frail, and dizzying. A myriad of courage, blood, and happiness painted the small ornament poignant. The pattern was very Gryffindor and Harry smiled, thinking of his mother making this with her fine, delicate hands. Something about the fragile little charm made Harry despondent again, and he rubbed his eyes hard to keep the tears from leaking out. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the tears back until he felt the tightness in his chest and throat easing. He placed the God's Eye on top of the pile gently, and then picked up two scraps of hastily scrawled paper. One, from his mother, reminded him to brush his teeth every morning and every night in her orderly, simple handwriting. The other reminded him to always use condoms. This was obviously from James. Harry laughed again and put them aside, quietly promising both his parents to do as they asked.
The last thing in the box was a plastic bag with one perfectly white feather in it. A note taped to the bag with Spellotape said "Memory feather". Harry guessed this was the capturing of a memory inside a tangible object, much like a Pensieve. With growing excitement, he opened the bag and the feather floated onto the bed. Checking to make sure no one had entered the room while he was occupied, Harry pushed his glasses higher on his nose and touched the feather lightly with his forefinger. A bright flash of light emanated from the feather, making Harry cover his eyes quickly. Something hooked around his navel and pulled and the world became whorls of dulled colors, then flashes of black and white. Spots danced in Harry's vision and when everything stopped spinning, he fell to his knees, retching.
Since Harry was already facing the ground, it didn't take him very long to figure out that he wasn't in his dormitory anymore. For one thing, he was now on his hands and knees about hip-deep in grass. Here and there, some unidentifiable flower grew and put out a beautiful smell that stopped Harry's dry heaving almost instantly and calmed him. He stood slowly, still a little dizzy, and found that, just like in the Pensieve, he was only there in the form of a spectre.
"Lily! Over here! Look!" An excited male voice cried from somewhere behind Harry. He turned quickly, recognizing the voice instantly. Sure enough, standing at the edge of the clearing Harry had landed in was James Potter, looking newly graduated and very happy. He was pointing in front of him animatedly, apparently ecstatic to have found such a perfect clearing for a picnic—Harry saw a picnic basket hanging from one arm.
"Wait for me James!" Behind him came another person, and Harry caught his breath when he saw her. Lily was beautiful, just like in the pictures of her, and Harry immediately recognized his eyes, now gazing out at the field, sparkling with pleasure. "Oh...oh it's perfect James!" With a gladdened cry, Lily ran forward, arms outstretched to take in the wide perfect blue sky, the green grass, and the peacefulness around her. James followed at a slightly more sedate pace and, catching up to his wife, grabbed her around the waist and kissed the top of her head.
He whispered something in Lily's ear that made her laugh and swat at his arm, calling him incorrigible. James grinned cheekily and helped Lily as she knelt to set out their picnic. Harry recognized the blanket from the pictures he'd found of them with the other Marauders, but they were alone this time. They sat down to eat, talking in-between mouthfuls about Hogwarts and former students they wanted to remember. Harry seated himself nearby to observe them together. He loved watching them, the quiet peace they had, the way Lily would look at James and James would look at Lily at exactly the same time and they would both smile. When they were together, Harry felt serene and happy, happier than he'd probably ever felt before. Harry was glad that they were his parents. He felt like he knew them, really knew them, from before he was born, and he was grateful for the chance to do so.
His parents had finished eating and James suddenly jumped up, grinning from ear to ear. "Lily! I have an idea. You remember you asked me yesterday how much I loved you?"
Lily turned pink around the ears. "Er...yes. But James...what are you going to do?"
"Just go stand over there." He pointed to the far side of the meadow. Lily shrugged and got up. When she turned around, James was standing on the other side.
"LILY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" He yelled.
"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Lily answered.
"I LOVE YOU LILY! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE SKY AND THE EARTH AND THE STARS AND THE SUN AND THE MOON AND THE RAIN AND EVEN MORE THAN QUIDDITCH! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE TRANSFIGURATION AND SIRIUS AND REMUS AND EVERYTHING ELSE COMBINED!" He cried, throwing his head back to shout at the sky.
Lily laughed aloud. "WELL I LOVE YOU, JAMES! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE BOOKS AND THE LIBRARY AND CHARMS AND MAGIC AND I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE ANYTHING EVER! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MYSELF, MY BREATH, MY THOUGHTS! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN—" What she'd been about to say was to be a mystery forever as, while she'd been hollering this, James had run forward. He now grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. She gasped a moment then wrapped her arms around his neck.
Harry grinned and turned his eyes away. He looked away. And away. And away. And away. And finally, when he gave up and looked back, they had stopped kissing each other and were now sitting on the grass, holding hands.
"And that, Lily, is how much I love you." James grinned irreverently and kissed her cheek.
"Well you know how much I love you too." Lily smiled and flung herself backwards to stare up at the sky. "Look how perfect it is...completely blue, no clouds. It's so happy..."
Harry looked up, squinting. Lily was right; it was flawlessly blue, clean as an empty slate, ready for the day's events to leave their mark, just like his parents' marriage was young and clean. But unlike the sky, Lily and James would never get a chance to leave any big marks, but one. Himself. Harry blinked furiously and felt the familiar tugging at his navel. He stared at his parents hard, trying feverishly to memorize the way they looked, the way they sounded, everything. But his vision dissolved into melting puddles of quivering color, then vortexes of black and white, and then he was back in his room, kneeling on his bed. The nauseating feeling wasn't so bad this time, he just felt slightly dizzy, but it quickly passed.
He realized he was holding the white feather still, although now it was slightly grey around the edges. Maybe that meant he would only be able to see the memory a few more times before it went away. The thought made Harry sad, but he put the feather back in its bag and began packing away all the things he'd found in the black velvet box. He got up from his bed and stored the box in the drawer of his nightstand, sealing it shut with a careful Locking Charm. The locket was warm against his skin underneath is school shirt as he took off his glasses and pulled the blankets up to his chin. As Harry drifted off to sleep, he realized he was crying again, and he couldn't stop.