A Leap of Faith

Taking a deep breath, Lily Evans pushed her cart nervously through the station.

She didn't really know what she was supposed to do – the Ministry witch had told her there was an invisible platform and that all she had to do was go through it – but that was, of course, much easier said than done.

Her parents had left ten minutes before, dragging a petulant thirteen-year-old Petunia with them, but they had been very reluctant to do so. It was only when Lily had calmly assured them she knew just what to do – she had read all about it – that they had agreed to leave, extracting promises that she would owl them the first chance she had.

And now here she stood, in front of the exact spot where Platform 9¾ was supposed to be, too terrified, after all she had seen, to trust that this was real.

But it had to be. She'd seen Diagon Alley, she'd gotten her very own wand – ten and a quarter inches, swishy and made of willow with a core of a unicorn tail hair; a nice wand for charms work, Ollivander had said, all the while gazing at her with those frightening pale eyes – she'd seen proof, before her very eyes, that the magical world was real. But trying to walk through a seemingly-solid wall required a leap of faith for a muggle-raised witch.

Lily Rose Evans had never been particularly good with leaps of faith.

Sighing, she decided there was only one way she could do this. Slowly, she raised a hand and pressed it to the barrier – only to see it melt right through.

She gasped, pulling her hand back as if it had been burned, and took several steps back. Her mind was working furiously as she stared at the barrier… which apparently was not at all solid.

She could turn around and go home. Her family wouldn't think any less of her – Petunia would, but that wouldn't make much of a difference. There was only so low one could go, after all.

But they had already left, and she didn't want to have to try and chase them down. No, she decided, the only thing she could do was go on. After all, if she didn't like it, she could go to a different school the next year.

Slowly, carefully, she braced herself and reached her hand up once more, holding it aligned with the barrier – then, just as slowly, she moved her hand through it and out of sight. Taking another deep breath, she took a step forward –

–a hand closed around her wrist and Lily found herself jerked through the barrier, her trolley and owl pulled with her. Stumbling, she pressed a hand to her chest and gasped for breath, looking up to see a boy of eleven with messy black hair and mischievous hazel eyes grinning widely at her.

"James Potter," he said cheekily, and, fuming, Lily realized that he had yet to release her wrist. "Thought you could use a hand. Welcome to the Hogwarts Express."

And then he winked jauntily at her and strode off, hailing some boy happily a ways down the platform. Lily merely remained where she stood, staring after him, seething…

And some part of her mind wondered why on earth she was so angry at him.

6 years later

"Wh- what?" Lily asked shakily, and she stared at James as he stood before her.

"I love you," he said simply.

"No," she muttered, startled. "No, you don't. You just –"

"I love you, Lily," he repeated, and, in a daring move, reached out and caught her hand in his.

"No," she said again, and she began to shake her head. "No, you don't. I'm just going to be another –"

"You're not 'just another' anything. I love you, Lily," James said once more. "I'm not asking for anything… Just a leap of faith. Believe in me. Please."

4 years later

Lily raced up the stairs, gasping for breath, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Reaching out blindly, she pushed a door open through the cold fog, even as more Dementors swarmed into the cottage downstairs. Still breathing harshly, she fell into the nursery.

Harry was standing up in his crib, staring at her through the small metal bars. His lower lip was quivering as he stood there bravely, his tiny little hands curled around the bars of his crib. The little boy craned his neck slightly, as if judging how far he would have to fall if he merely climbed out of his crib and jumped.

She heard the scream downstairs, the curse that rent the air, and a dull thud – somewhere in her mind, she knew James was dead. Her husband; the most wonderfully annoying prat she had ever met in her life, was dead.

And before her stood their son, the target of a madman, destined to save the world.

You have more power than you know, the Sorting Hat had whispered to her years before. You will bring to life the very force that can save this world, and you will defend it.

She damn well wouldn't fail the old raggedy cap.

Moving forward, she pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead over his right eyebrow. He reached up for her, muttering incoherently, but she only smiled at him, smoothing back his messy black hair – his father's hair.

The door behind her blew open, and Lily turned to face her fate. Pushing Harry behind her, her eyes glinting madly, she looked at Lord Voldemort and smiled inside.

And she made a leap of faith.

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Cheers,
LIZ