TITLE: When Angels Forget
SUMMARY: Lily and James are far from dead…
When Angels Forget
Chapter I: "For Ophelia"
Sirius Black arrived on his broomstick—Hagrid had borrowed his motorcycle—accompanied by Ophelia Evans (the twin sister of Lily Potter, née Evans) who was terrified of flying and so had been cutting off his circulation by clutching him tightly the entire time.
But then, Sirius really didn't feel like he could breathe anyway.
Now, he surveyed the ruins with a sorrow too great for words and far too great for tears. He felt empty inside, which was a first, as usually he was full of some emotion, whether it was a good or bad one—well, that was up to the day. But now…
Sirius had been orphaned when he was very young, at most eighteen months old. He did not miss his parents, for he had grown up with an uncle that had been a parent to him in every sense of the word. He did not cry over them, he never felt a loss of anything… he forgot them, simple as that. But James Potter had been his best friend, his brother, his companion, and Lily… Lily had been the one that kept James happy, the one that comforted him and gave him everything that Sirius could not. She had loved James, and James had loved her back, and now that they were gone, there was nothing left for Sirius. They and their love had been the only thing Sirius found to be strong, and without them… Sirius' world had caved in on him.
"Are you okay?" Sirius felt Ophelia's fingers touch his back lightly, as if a butterfly had landed there. Sirius started to nod resolutely, but then started shaking his head.
"No," he replied. "No." The words themselves burnt a thousand holes into the atmosphere, etching out the pain he felt. Ophelia's fingers gripped him harder, and when he turned weakly to look at her, her hazel-green eyes understood.
"That's good," she said simply, "because neither am I."
Ophelia was a tamer version of her sister: her eyes were browner than Lily's, her hair was an attractive auburn as opposed to flaming red, her skin was slightly darker and less like a ghost. Her demeanor, too, was altogether more controlled, more quiet and elusive, and one could exaggerate things slightly and say they were complete opposites. Nevertheless, Lily and Ophelia had been so close that when they were apart, the other suffered immense emotional damage, so huge that it was unexplainable… without the other, one would begin leading a hollow life. This was why it was so vital that both had gotten into Hogwarts, and this was why they were so lucky to both go to Hogwarts and both be sorted into Gryffindor. Without one… they were none.
Sirius stared at Ophelia as this all came rushing back to him. He missed James so much it was indescribable, but he could go on. Ophelia, on the other hand, would die her own death, and her soul would deteriorate. The bond between the sisters was unexplainable, and Sirius strongly felt that there was some hidden, ancient magic that connected the two.
"Your bond…"
"Is broken," she finished. "I know. I will waste away." She did not look distressed at this thought. "It is my destiny, Sirius, to die."
"Now is no time to start acting like Trelawney, Ophelia," responded an uncomfortable Sirius with a hoarse voice. The gravity of the situation had them calling each other by their full names. "You might not die, precisely…"
"Oh, I will die. I assure you." Ophelia tilted her head slightly, her loose curls of silky auburn hair tilting with it. "Have you heard of the Morio spell?"
"No!" shouted Sirius, then quieted, not wanting to scream over the corpses of his long-lost friends. "You won't be able to save them both, and…" Sirius wished desperately that he was even the faintest bit religious so that he could say that they were together now, anyway. "and… no one wants to lose you, Ophelia." Once more, full names… this was so painful.
"Oh, Sirius." Ophelia smiled a dazzling smile, one of the few traits she shared with her sister. "You don't love me, you know. Remus… well, Remus and I could have amounted to great things… but he has more to worry about…"
"It could kill him," rasped Sirius. "All the werewolf business, and now this…"
"Werewolves do not die of grief, Sirius," Ophelia said gently. "The only way they can die is if they are outright killed. It will hurt him, but I can guarantee he will recover. I am an Elemental Seer," Ophelia informed him, pain lacing that final word. She was something she did not want to be. "I have never admitted that to you, or James, or even Remus… Lily was the only one who has heard me say that. Remus knows, I have told him in so many words, but I have never said outright, 'I am a werewolf.' I wish you to tell him I told him so, for I will not live to talk once more… my last word to him was 'forever', and so fitting it is. I will not be forgotten, Sirius, although I will not be remembered. I will live as a spirit, and those who know me and miss me shall remember me, and those who did not know me and do not experience grief for my death shall forget me. This is the way you will live, remembering me. I wish you to remember me happily. Please, Sirius, tell Remus this, and Lily, and James. Please, as my final wish."
"Ophelia, Lily will waste away for you as well…"
"No," answered Ophelia, "she will not. She loves James inexplicably, and I know this. She will grieve… she will miss me… but James will be there for her. However strong Remus and I may have been able to grow together, we would never have achieved what Lily and James have. Lily and James are first and foremost—Lily and James will triumph. The world may not be ready for the loss of an Elemental—it most certainly wasn't ready for the loss of Lily—but no one knew I was an Elemental, and with the return of Lily… you understand that Lily is the Elemental Blood, correct?"
"Yes," Sirius said quietly. "I do."
Lily had told him—he was one of the four she had told: James, Remus, Ophelia, and then him. Lily had not trusted Peter when she discovered this nor did she trust him when she revealed it to the others. Although he, too, was a Marauder, Lily did not judge her friends by whether they were Marauders or not. Lily was, if anything, an excellent judge of character.
Too good of a judge, Sirius thought dully, looking at the ruins.
"Good. Then you understand… there is another Elemental Seer—Dumbledore. There is only one Blood. I am not the key in this, Sirius. Lily and James are."
"But—you can only save one with the Morio spell," Sirius reminded her. Ophelia shook her head.
"No. You remember, Sirius, that Lily and James were married with the Infragilis…"
"Oh."
Sirius closed his eyes, remembering. The silver hue, the sparkle… it was a precaution, but they had been so full of joy after completing the ceremony…
"They cannot part."
"I remember."
Minerva McGonagall interrupted the two by Apparating into the clearing. Looking around, she quite obviously saw them, but made no comment. She regarded the ruins with an impenetrable stare, and Sirius wished that for once, just for once, she would show some feelings. It hurt too much to see an unemotional face in light of his best friends' tragedy. But then… it was McGonagall…
McGonagall Disapparated, and Sirius was left with pleading eyes. He did not want to see another friend die.
"Sirius… I am not doing this because I hate my life. I am doing this because Lily and James deserve to live. Voldemort… Voldemort wanted them dead. He does not know about me. I am insignificant, Sirius. I am the sacrifice, a lamb to the altar, but I am a willing lamb, and they can take my life—you know I will never die, don't you, Sirius?" She placed a cold hand upon his cheek—a hand so cold it felt as though she were already dead. "I will not live with guilt. I can perform the spell, and perform it I will. I will save Lily and James, and together we can conquer the universe. Just… never let anyone say I was selfish." Ophelia smiled an odd smile. "I am Ophelia. I know you don't read Muggle plays, but… I was fated to die, and die my body shall. I will become an angel. Oh, I know you're an atheist, don't start—I will become an angel. Not an angel in heaven, an angel on earth."
Sirius did not reply, and Ophelia sighed, taking her hand from his cheek.
"Ophelia—"
"I will be a martyr. I will not be condemned to the life I would have led. I will save more than just their lives when I do this… I will save a world. They can conquer Voldemort together, along with Harry. The magnificent trio of Potters… and then all their supporters…" Ophelia sighed. "Don't argue, Sirius. It's not worth it. My mind is made up. My body will die, I will live…" Ophelia paused. "Tell Remus… everything I told you. He needs to know. And I do love him. Tell him that as well. Reassure him…" Ophelia trailed off, her hazel-green eyes determined. "Don't stop me."
"I…"
"Don't," said Ophelia firmly. "I don't care if you want to. Don't. If you save me—how do you know I won't just commit suicide? I am not ending my life, Sirius! I will never leave! You'll always remember me as Ophelia, the drowned. I am not committing suicide—I am sacrificing myself. Self-sacrifice, as you know, is one of the most powerful things around. After all, it saved Harry, didn't it?"
Harry. The one who would live as an orphan if Ophelia did not do this…
"Yes." The word was full of pain, insufferable pain. Ophelia saw this and sighed.
"It's not your fault, Sirius," she told him gently. "I would have done this anyway. Don't hurt. I won't have a corpse. Don't pity yourself—don't pity me. I do this out of my own free will, not because the world wants me to. It is for the good of the world, Sirius. I am not foremost. I will be an angel on earth, a martyr. I will not forget you, nor anyone else… no. Angels… never forget."
And with that, Ophelia kissed him on the cheek gently and strode towards the ruins of the house.
"Seppellire indebolito," she said quietly. From the dust and rubble rose two perfect bodies, untainted by dark, unhurt by death. They landed gently in front of Ophelia, the air easing them down onto the broken stones. Ophelia swallowed, and though her eyes betrayed sadness, she did not cry. The situation was far too desperate and serious to cry.
Ophelia began the words of the ancient Celtic spell in a soft, sweet voice—that of an angel, that of a martyr, that of a savior…
"O'r diwedd tiriodd f'enaid gwan…O ddyfnder moroedd mawr i'r lan…"
Sirius, who never cried, had tears coursing down his tears in rages as the white aura surrounded Ophelia and her words grew stronger. She resembled an angel to the core, her black cloak open and the white dress she had on underneath standing out again the dark-green night. Her auburn curls spun in an invisible wind, her eyes were closed, her voice was steady.
"…na allant na symud na gweithredu ond wrth ei ewyllys santaidd ef."
With these final words, the white aura flashed gold, and for a split second, Sirius could distinctly hear the choir of heaven singing. Ophelia's face upturned, she glowed gold, and—
She was gone.
Away.
A forty-second spell had sacrificed her body to give life to another.
Ophelia was an angel.
Sirius cried for Ophelia for a minute, then walked over to Lily and James.
"Come back," he choked. "Please. For Ophelia."
Their eyes gave a small flutter and Sirius knew they were alive. That done, he kneeled down next to them and grieved.
For Ophelia.
*
Okay. What did you think? I really suck at description, but oh well. This is my story about how Lily and James lived… *sigh* But it's not what you think—they don't go to take back Harry or anything. Oh, whatever. You'll find out next chapter.
I really have got to stop writing so many stories simultaneously.
Oh well. Tee hee. I'm shameless. Hope you liked it.
Disclaimer: Harry, Lily, James, Sirius, Voldemort, McGonagall, Hagrid, Potters' house, and anything else you happen to recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. Hamlet belongs to Shakespeare. The Welsh stuff are excerpts from a book I found online…I don't know who wrote it. I'll try to find out, okay? Ophelia Evans belongs to me… and I must say, I am proud to own her…
R.S.V.P. – Review, S'il Vous Plait. Avec un cerise? Pleeeeeeease?