Chapter One: Lingering
"I wanna heal; I wanna feel what I thought was never real.
I want to let go of the pain I've felt so long.
Erase all the pain till its gone.
I want to heal; I want to feel like I'm close to something real.
I wanna find something I've wanted all along;
somewhere I belong."
- Linkin Park "Somewhere I Belong."
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, reading the multiple letters from the Ministry that just wouldn't stop coming. He had just finished reading the fifth one in an hour (Apparently there are too many Muggleborns attending Hogwarts), when another five appeared atop the growing pile. With a heavy sigh, the Headmaster banished them with a flick of his wand. If they were important, most certainly more would flow in very soon.
'You're getting to old for this, Albus.'
Indeed he was.
Getting up, he wondered over to the window and watched the slowly darkening sky. It was only a matter of time, he knew, before all hell would break loose. No matter how positive he appeared to be, no matter how much energy he put into this war, it would not end well…Not at all.
Unknowingly, the Headmaster had lost that hope all those years ago, when a certain green-eyed child died.
It always came back to him. At least once a year, he would sit in his office and wonder what the world would be like with Harry – his adopted grandson. Even to this day, he could picture a tall, bright green-eyed child with wild black hair and that ever so crooked smile James used to wear so often.
Now he could count the number of times James truly smiled on one hand.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the war truly caught up with them. He could feel it deep in his bones, settling like a cold chill that just wouldn't fade. It was only a matter of time before they finally caved in…and lost.
Unless…
The Headmaster's eyes swiveled to an ancient tomb in his glass cabinet, surrounded by many protection charms and wards. Stepping forward, he silently ripped the spells down, and took the precious book in his aging hands.
It was old; older than even he could comprehend. The cover was of worn black leather; it's title no more than a faint elegant script. The bindings would have already fallen off without the help of magic, and the pages were yellow like wax.
It had been passed down through Dumbledore's family from his father's side every single generation since Merlin himself. What he did know was why it was passed down; so no one would forget.
Turning to the page that was debated as the most famous piece of literature in history, Albus Dumbledore read.
Born to thee of Snake Blood,
The newest Sire has been made.
Amidst thy is of the flood,
Strewn about by the blade.
Darker is the Angel's wings,
Who have never flown before.
Truer is the darkened sky,
Whose light can lead them ashore.
Clever is thy emerald eyes,
The depths of evermore;
Hiding from them the very truth,
That will keep the wings a soar.
He will come when the end is near,
His breath will block the constant tear.
Though beware, he is thou deeply scared,
The depths of which could control the Bard.
Red and Black twisted ink,
Unto them a legend is born.
If thou shall refuse thy fate,
A world it will be that you scorn.
He had read it many times before, but never before had it made any more sense. It claimed of a legend that would come when the war was near end, but no one has. Did that mean that it wasn't the end? Maybe they did have hope.
Or maybe it died nineteen years ago.
Dumbledore had thought about it before, but he came to the conclusion that Harry could not have been the hero the legend was talking about. It was rumored the Hero was the heir of Merlin, and yet neither James nor Lily were, having already looked into their genealogy. So it couldn't be Harry.
It was a question not only buzzing in the Headmaster's mind, but many others around the world as well. The constant question that plagued them all.
'Who is it and when will they come?'
The Headmaster could only hope soon.
-x-
Lily opened the door to their daughter's room.
It was nearly past noon, and the child had yet to awake. Red hair was spilled over the pillow, illuminating a young porcelain face. It wasn't shown with her eyes closed, but Lily knew when they opened soft blue-green eyes would look back at her.
She softly stroked her ten-year-old daughter's cheek, willing her to wake.
"Rose…wake up honey."
Eyelids flickered. A sigh. A groan.
"Mommy?"
Lily smiled, waving the curtains open in a flurry of light. Rose groaned.
"It's too bright. Tired…sleep…"
Lily laughed. "Nuh uh! You are going to get up, and you'll do it now." She leaned in so she was able to whisper in her ear. "I overheard daddy talking about a trip to Diagon Alley today. Too bad you're tired; he was thinking about bringing you."
Faster then lightening, Rose was up and about, scurrying the room for clothes.
"I'm up! I'm up!" She shrieked, looking panicked. "He didn't leave, did he?"
"I'm not sure, you better hurry up and check."
With a small squeak the half-dressed girl ran from the room, trying to pull on her jumper as she went. Lily shook her head, smiling softly after her. Some things never changed.
'Now if only this war would.'
With a disheartened sigh Lily followed after her daughter.
-x-
"So where do you want to go first?" James asked his daughter.
They were standing outside the entrance to the ever so popular alley. It was crowded with many people, as it was a long weekend. James had the day off Auror duty, which was quite a surprise; usually he was booked twenty-four seven due to the war. He decided to take advantage of this to spend time with his daughter. She was almost eleven, and would be heading off to Hogwarts come September.
She smiled brightly. "Flourish and Blotts!"
James wrinkled his nose. "We come all this way for a bloody bookstore?"
"Dad!"
"Right, right, no swearing. Got it." He grinned, ruffling her hair. "You really take after your mom, don't you?"
Rose just stuck her tongue out at him, and then promptly began skipping in the opposite direction. James had to practically jog to keep up with her.
Flourish and Blotts was crowded as usual. It was one of the many stores where sources streamed in from all over the world, making it a popular place for researchers. He was able to locate his daughter among the Hogwarts section where all her schoolbooks could be found.
"You excited for Hogwarts?" James asked brightly, trying to sound happy and failing miserably. He would miss these outings with his only child.
She misinterpreted his smile for happiness.
"Yes!" She squealed, holding a potions text between her small hands. "I can't wait to be sorted!"
"Oh yeah? And what House do you wish to be in?"
Rose shrugged, picking up another book. 'Anthology of Arithmetic for Beginners.'
"I don't know." She admitted. "I haven't really thought about it."
"That's okay." He ruffled her hair, messing up her tidy red locks. "There's no pressure. 'cough' Gryffindor! 'cough'."
"Daddy!"
He laughed, then steered her towards the cashier desk.
"Hurry up so we can get out of here. These books smell funny."
Rose giggled.
-x-
So far the day had been unproductive for Lily. She spent the afternoon wasting away by cleaning the house the muggle way (It got rid of endless tension; James still didn't understand) then sitting down and opening the photo album.
It was an old one - about twenty years old to be precise. The cover was black, decorated only with a silver lining and a single picture on the front.
Harry.
As she looked, he giggled at her, and then proceeded to chew on a stuffed dog Sirius had gotten him. His eyes were wide and innocent, flooded with florescent green. Lily could get lost in them. But it was hard not too; they were greener then hers! Never before had Lily seen such a shade on a person.
Shaking her head, she turned the page to find more pictures of little Harry. There were many of them; ones taken by her and James; ones taken by friends and neighbors; and ones taken even by Harry himself, when he somehow got a hold of the camera. To this day Lily had a suspicion Sirius had something to do with it.
One picture in particular caught her eye. It was the last one taken of them together, and in the end, the last one ever taken of Harry. It was a picture of Albus holding Harry.
Neither of them was looking at the camera, but rather each other. Harry usually found it hilarious to play with 'Uncle Albus' beard, and eye-catching clothing. Albus always found it hilarious to dress in particularly outrageous robes just for Harry. He was the grandpa that Harry never had.
What was strange about this picture was the simple fact that there was no smiling between the two this day. Just stares. They never broke eye contact, and they hardly ever moved, even though it was a wizard photo. Whenever she looked at it, Lily felt a shiver go up her spine. To others, it looked like they simply held a deep bond (Which Lily didn't doubt). Yet, to her, it always looked like they knew something was wrong.
That they knew it was the end.
As usual, every time she came to this conclusion she had to shut the album. It was hard to look at such a picture, when you knew that the very next day Harry would indeed be…dead.
She blinked away tears, and put the album carefully back in the cupboard, closing it firmly behind her.
She knew that fateful Halloween all those years ago would always haunt her. But she also knew that she needed to move on; they had a daughter to provide for, and she couldn't very well do that if she was constantly reminiscing about the past. It wasn't fair for Rose to see her mother cry all the time. It wasn't fair for Rose to hold such a burden on her young shoulders.
Lily straightened her robes then headed for the floo. She didn't want to be late for meeting her husband at lunch. Their daughter was to be dropped off at Remus' after Diagon Alley.
With a pinch of green powder, she was gone.
To Be Continued…
A/N: Well there is the first chapter for you! Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks!