Staring:

(of a persons eyes) Be wide open, with a fixed or vacant expression.


Now the doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forwards for final kisses, last-minute reminders. Albus jumped into the carriage and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned towards Harry.

'Why are they all staring?' demanded Albus, as he and Rose craned round to look at the other students.


Chapter 1

In, what seemed like the distance, sirens were wailing and sparks were flying and people were shouting and Aurors were rushing. Harry pushed past them all, his mouth screaming the standard hexes whilst his mind raced ahead in overdrive, as though he was watching the events unfold on a movie screen. He didn't know who had kicked open the door until the impact ricocheted through his body, but by then he was sprinting up the stairs. Somebody from lower down in the department was talking to him – a reminder about how nobody could touch a victim until fingerprints had been taken or something, but Harry wasn't really listening. He couldn't focus on the buzz of voice.

Because he had instead chosen to focus on the emaciated body, cowering in a dank, shadowed corner of the room.

Harry breathed in sharply and the buzz seemed to come into focus. The lights became brighter as though somebody had turned them up. It was the sort of silence which was so intense and palpable that you could hear it, as his colleagues attempted to become part of the furniture; to allow the Boy Who Lived to reunite with his daughter, at last.

"Affirmative," Harry croaked. Her face was skeletal and gaunt, her lips were powder blue and her hair was matted to her forehead. But nonetheless, here was the child who had wreaked havoc in his dreams every single evening for the past four years. He took a few steps towards her, but stopped himself, gasping. He wanted nothing more than to grab her and clutch her so tightly towards him that their tortured chests could beat side by side, once again.

But if his profession had taught him anything, it was to not to enter a child's personal space after a period of distress.

And the appearance of his child screamed, above all else, distress. In fact, the understatement of that word was almost laughable.

'Lily?' He gasped. There was a pause for a moment, and then the girls sunken, glassy eyes slowly rolled up to meet his, as though vaguely recalling the word from a former life. 'It's me, Lily,' He breathed. 'Oh, Lily, my baby. It's Daddy.'

He took a step forward, arms out, but she backed away, pressing her spindly hands against the wall and clawing herself up shakily. Harry's hand shot out to steady her, but Lily flinched back instinctually, causing her legs to give way as the emerald orbs rolled to the back of her skull.

Harry lunged to catch her, consequences be damned, screaming for people to help as treacherous, antagonised tears streamed down his enraged cheeks as he realised it wasn't dirt, but bruises, which clung mockingly to every inch of the skin that had been pale and glowing with a light pink flush on the day that he had first held her in his arms, fourteen years ago, before he was shoved out of the way by pitiful Healers.

'O-O'

Gently moving his wife's head from where it lay on his shoulder, Harry stood up impatiently. He felt numerous pairs of eyes tracing him as he began to pace the room. But he found that he didn't care enough to respond to the curious glances of strangers. Because at that moment all he fucking cared about was his daughter, his youngest child, in the room down the corridor, on life support.

Harry remembered that night clearly, although he had often tried to suppress it. Lily Luna had been exactly ten years, eleven months and three days old when she had pattered out of the back door of their cosy home and never pattered back in again.

Harry was just in the nick of time to catch his girl as Albus and James pushed past them, clad in formal wear, almost sending the youngest flying, who had been standing at the top of the landing.

'Sorry Frilly Lily,' James called apologetically over his shoulder.

'Yeah, Frilly Lily,' Albus repeated, chuckling to himself before proceeding to collide with the eldest sibling who had stopped, upon his mother's orders, to tuck his shirt in.

'Do I have to come downstairs tonight?' Lily asked her father whinily.

'The whole family's coming around,' he replied, confused. 'Do you not feel well?'

'That's right,' she hurriedly replied. 'I have a tummy ache.'

'Why didn't you just say?' Harry smiled, before brushing her long, auburn, glossy locks off of her forehead to check for a fever. 'How bad is it? You go climb into bed –mine if you want to. Some sleep ought to do it - would a hot chocolate help?' Harry lifted her up, snuggling the little thing as he set her down upon his big comfy bed. As he knelt down to brush a kiss to her forehead, he noticed the suppressed, telling smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He shook his head. 'I'll go get your mum and some pyjamas. We'll be back up in just a moment with the medicine.'

Lily's smile transformed abruptly into a horrified expression. 'Not the Medicine?' she exclaimed, and Harry nodded innocently. 'In fact, you know what daddy, I'm feeling a lot better. But I told you a fib – I apologise and I'll send myself straight to my bedroom for the rest of the nigh-'

Harry held out an arm to block his daughter's path as she made to dart past him, head bowed. She slowly turned to face him guiltily, knowing the game was up.

'Lily?' Harry pressed. 'Tell me what's going on.'

'Nothing!' She insisted, but cowered under her father's 'no bullshit' stare, '… is Lysander going to be here tonight?'

'Of course he is, along with Lorcan and Rolf,' Harry replied in a baffled tone, 'This whole evening is to commemorate the first anniversary of their mothers passing, after all. You know that. Why do you ask?'

'I don't think Sander wants to be my friend anymore,' she said sadly.

'Don't be silly, Lily,' Harry ruffled her hair, making it even more messy. 'You and the twins have been best friends since – well, since birth!'

'Well, Lorcan's still nice to me,' she argued stubbornly, her bottom lip jutting out.

'What happened?' Harry asked softly, her lip pouting was always a clear sign that something was genuinely bothering her.

'Nothing!' Lily suddenly burst. 'I did nothing at all - and he hates my guts, daddy!'

'Nobody could hate you, lily.'

'My best friend does!' She replied dramatically.

'Well, hiding from your fears does nothing but prolong them,' Harry advised, as he didn't really want to get involved. He knew the Scamander family had been wearing apart at the seams since Luna's death and didn't want to cause any more struggles. 'It'll all blow over. Go downstairs and speak to him - offer him one of Grandma's cookies. I'm sure everything will be fine.'

'Promise?'

'Promise,' Harry replied to the ten year old.

But as the night drew on Harry noticed Lily's frown growing as she tried to make amends, but it became apparent that Lysander was, in fact, shunning her. Harry didn't like the fact that his daughter, who usually thrived under the attention at these get-togethers, was being increasingly quiet and withdrawn. He pointed it out to Ginny who quashed his qualms about intervention, by saying that 'children squabble.'

At dinner, Harry assured that the only place left for Lysander to sit was between Rose and Lily, in the hopes that they would be giggling again in no time. The meal went on and Harry soon forgot about her troubles as he reveled in the delicious meal that had been set out in front of him, complimenting his mother in law profusely.

'It was Luna's favourite,' Molly replied with a glisten to her eye. 'She was such a unique, vivacious young girl.'

'Nobody else like her,' Angelina agreed.

'She didn't die in vain,' George said softly as he placed his hand over his wife's.

There was a respectful quietness in the room, broken only by the clatter of cutlery and a mutter from one of the littl'uns, to which none of the adults paid attention.

They did, however, all look up when Rose exclaimed horrified, 'What?' as Lily stared at the boy next to her, mouth agape; confusion and pain evident in her eyes.

'I said,' He gritted his teeth. 'That it's all Lily's fault.' The adults looked around from one another in bewilderment as the cousins wondered what he was on about. He repeated, 'It's Lily's fault that my mum died last year – isn't it!?'

'What,' James broke the silence, 'are you talking about?'

Lysander ignored him. 'Why did nobody tell me she was killed – because of Lily?' He demanded, enraged.

Lily was looking around in shock and fear, fear of rejection from her cousins. She was a murderer? She met Lorcan's eyes, who had apparently only just found out this information also.

'My fault?' She croaked. It was supposed to be a question, but sounded more like a statement, and was met with reassuring replies from her relatives, but she just sat with a shocked expression.

'Why do you say that, Lysander?' Hermione carefully asked, neither confirming nor denying the question.

'I overheard dad talking – mum sacrificed herself so shecould live. It's her fault, isn't it?'

Harry was unsure as to what was said next, because a chair screeched back as it was forced away from the table, and the last thing he saw was Lily's frilly bright pink dress as it blew around the corner, before she was obscured from his view by the slamming of the back door.

The last thing he heard was her footsteps pattering away.

'O-O'

A lone owl swooped down to the Gryffindor table, interrupting the Headmistress's end of year speech. It caught the curious eye of every student, who idly wondered why the owl hadn't followed protocol and waited until the morning, as the letter fluttered down to land on James Potter's sixteen year old knee.

Curiously he turned it over and saw that it was addressed to 'kids' which he understood to mean himself and his nine cousins, who were dotted precariously around the hall.

The professor cast him a stern look before continuing with her farewell speech and James' eyes sped through the rushed scrawl, eyes growing larger, smile widening and hands shaking.

He stood up, unable to string together a coherent thought. "Professor– you need to read this – we need your office-"

"What is the name of this, Potter?" She interrupted him.

"It's-" James spun around, ignorant of the other students, eyes searching the Gryffindor for his younger brother. "It's Lily. They've found her."

The entire hall began speaking at once, because there was only one Lily he could be talking about – Lost Lily Potter.

There were eleven people who were the most shocked of all. Albus had sprinted towards James, ripping the letter from his clasp.

'Kids,

Lily has been found and we are with her now at St. Mungo's. One of your uncles or aunts will be at Hogwarts to pick you up shortly. Gather your cousins and tell them to go to McGonagall's office.

Mum/Aunt Ginny'

He was followed by Albus, Victoire, Dominique, Louis, Fred, Roxanne, Rose, Molly, Lucy and Lorcan.

Albus let the letter be snatched away by cousins, as he flung his arms around his older brother in ecstasy, and to his surprise James didn't push him away as guttural sobs streamed from his eyes. Instead he shielded his little brother from the rest of the hall. McGonagall stood up and walked swiftly to the broken family, leading them to her office.

'O-O'

'Mr. and Mrs. Potter?'

The beeping of equipment sounded louder and then became faint again as the doctor stepped out of the closed ward. Ginny jolted awake as though she had been listening out for him, as they had been absorbing any possible information. Harry and Ginny stood up immediately, thirsty for any drop of news. Their entire family had waited with them for the first couple of days, but Harry had insisted they all went home, promising to send any information he received as soon as he got it. Not that he had got much.

It had been three weeks.

Three weeks of: 'Miss Potter is in critical condition.' 'Yes Sir, we are doing all that we can.' 'Miss Potter has fallen into a coma.' 'No Sir, we can't make any predictions.' 'Miss Potter isn't expected to make it through the night.' 'Yes Sir, I would suggest making arrangements.' 'Miss Potter is lucky that she was found when she was.' 'No Sir, we cannot determine precisely what occurred.' 'Miss Potter's condition is stabilising.' 'Yes Sir, she is expected to awaken soon.'

'Your daughter is awake.' They gasped and looked at each other with renewed exhilaration and Harry squeezed Ginny's hand. 'Miss Potter has suffered an immense amount in her period in captivity. As to the extent, we cannot fathom a guess, and she is in no suitable mentalcondition for us, or yourselves, to probe into that right now. She is expected to make a full physical recovery eventually, although scars will remain – not just physically. When she is ready to open up she will undoubtedly need a whole other kind of mental treatment. But right now, what that poor girl needs is your love. And that is all you can do for her right now. It is often the best medicine, I have found.

'For this reason we feel that Miss Potter will prosper more in the comfort and familiarity of her own home, so she will be sent home potentially next week, after we are sure that her condition has stabilised. We must also slowly reintroduce Miss Potter to this: her new reality. The fact that she has a happy home and loving parents For that reason we feel as though it will be best that she sees only the two of you until she returns home, so as not to overwhelm the child. Once home, we strongly recommend a gradual process of reintroduction, where only two new visitors per day are introduced to her. After spending the past four years in captivity, it is vital that we limit her shock, because try as we might, none of us can empathise with the amount that she has truly suffered. I will also schedule a daily check-up, so please confirm your floo address before you leave. I understand that you have two older sons? Is it possible for them to stay elsewhere for a short while longer?' The Healer asked.

'Of course,' Ginny said. 'They love to stay with my brother's anyway.'

'Good. Well, if you'd like to follow me.'

Harry took Ginny's hand and pressed it to his lips, hardly believing that lily was coming home.

'O-O'

'Lily – darling?' Ginny said gently. 'Would you like to sleep in your room tonight, or ours?'

'Mine,' Lily murmered.

Harry nodded understandingly, 'You know to come straight to us if you start to feel... if you just want to. '

'Or if you need water, or a snack, or…' Ginny wavered off, hating that she felt like she was being reintroduced to her fourteen year old daughter. 'You know the drill.'

Lily nodded and closed the door, alone in her familiar soltitude at last. This she knew how to deal with, everything else in the world, she did not.