Whoa…this was a hard chapter to write…but, well..I put myself alone in this mess!;-)

I hope it will live up to the expectations…

Chapter 9 and 10 are actually two parts of the same chapter. I cut it in two for easier editing.

A big thank you to each and every reviewer!!

A big thank you to my wonderful beta who keeps doing this job although she is now very busy with her new born son.

Betaed by Sindie: .net/u/46567/Sindie

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Chapter 9

At the sight of him, Lily drew a great deep breath and then held it as she were about to dive. For a few seconds, even her heart seemed to forget to beat. She had recognized her son immediately; he had the same build as James and the same messy hair, slightly lifted here and there with the breeze. She found him beautiful. Surprise and joy propelled her to her feet, her hands grasping at the fabric of her dress over her tights, her lungs suddenly releasing the gulp of air, crowing his name with force:

"Harry!"

Her heart was now thudding so hard, her cheeks throbbed. He was so…grown up...a man indeed. Even recent photographs could not have prepared her for this.

Harry had jerked at her cry, and he was now staring at her full in the face, slightly frowning, his eyes wide, his body quite still, arms dropped at his side.

In an attempt to gather her wits, she consciously inhaled and exhaled very slowly a few times and forced her clutched hands to open. Tough a tad skinny and some marks of weariness or bad sleep marring his young features, he looked in rather good health. Her lips parted, but no other sound escaped her clogged throat. From the words she had carefully thought up for years, nothing was left. The tidal wave that had broken upon her had washed them all away. She had completely underestimated the shock of seeing him, she realized somehow curiously, over the whirling flow of her thoughts. Oh, God! This was indeed a little bit too much to deal at the same time.

Was this real after all? She lifted her hands to her face, rubbed them over her doubtful eyes and then slowly down her jowls. Harry blinked, but did not move, nor spoke, watching her intensely. His chest seemed to rise and fall somewhat stronger and quicker. She saw him swallow hard.

"Harry..." she tried in a wobbling, strangled voice; the rest kept caught in her throat. The skin on her nape crawled with pins and needles as she began to fret over ruining the moment. She clasped her hands tight, meshing her fingers, pressing them against her mouth; they were a welcoming cold compared to her burning cheeks.

The missive. That was it. She let out a small sigh of relief. Her gaze steadily fixed on her newly found again child whom she could still not be sated to look at; she fumbled blindly with her pouch and managed somehow to slip a numb hand inside. She began rummaging furiously through the contents with an odd sensation that her fingers were simultaneously hectic like excited tiny animals and heavy to move as if they had been ballasted with lead.

From the first time since their eyes had met, Harry broke contact. He took a few steps, swiftly scratched his head along the hairline at his forehead, tucked his hands in his pockets, and adjusted his stance. He looked back at her eagerly.

"Who are you?!"

At the sound of his voice, her heart jumped with delight. She swallowed hard, fighting the rise of tears. She tried to smile, pleading with him with a meaningful look to wait only a little bit.

Oh, God, my son, my son…

"Do you know me?" Harry asked, quirking his eyebrows. Then he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in incomprehension, a fleeting glint of frustration flashing across his eyes. His chest was now downright heaving.

"Should I know you?" he urged, foaming. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and wiped his face briskly. There was a short pause; he seemed to hesitate a little. His hand found its way back inside his pocket.

"Are you related to... Lily Potter?" he finally broke out in a husky tone, inflecting with high-pitched accents, betraying overwhelming emotions.

His raw voice had pierced straight through her core. This name...her name...She shivered with a rush of mixed joy and grief, swallowing hard against the bitter tingling at the back of her mouth.

Harry sighed with dismay, his green eyes still stuck to her visage. A sinew fluttered along his jaw.

"But why don't you just tell me who you are?" he insisted impatiently, furrowing his brow deeper. He looked both hopeful and afraid of what she might say.

Lily's fingers had finally clutched on a thick textured paper. She pulled it half out of her pouch, glancing quickly down to check if it were indeed what she was looking for. It was. Her pulse quickened. She took a great deep, shuddering breath, extracted said paper and held it out to her son. Her hand was shaking, but her face was lit with a wide, slowly blossoming smile.

Her gesture seemed to have taken the wind out of Harry's sails, for he suddenly stood quite petrified, save his eyes, which fluttered from the missive to her from behind his round glasses. She simply nodded toward her out-stretched hand. Her heart was pulsing in every single vein of her body. She was utterly dying with stress.

After what seemed an eternity, he gave her a suspicious look, rushed to her, and finally snatched the proffered letter. Checking every two seconds as if he feared she would vanish in thin air, he tore it slowly open, almost cautiously. His fingers fidgeted with the paper inside, clutched on it, and paused. The two pairs of green almond-shaped eyes stared at each other again, the younger one peering at the older.

Lily nodded again. Reluctantly, Harry tugged on the inserted piece of parchment with one swift motion, unfolded it, and began to read.

Dear Harry,

He identified Dumbledore's thin, slanting writing and looked up at the woman once more. She nodded once again for him to continue to read.

If you have been delivered this letter, it means that everything or almost everything ran as planned and you defeated Voldemort for good. This also means I can finally reveal you a last piece of information. It concerns you highly, but I HAD to keep it secret.I hope you won't bear too heavy a grudge against me, Harry. Let me explain.

This tragic night Voldemort marked you with this scar. He murdered your father first, then went upstairs after your mother. I found her lying on the floor beside your crib.

Harry felt his eyes water, and his throat constrict. He blinked.

Still, before I could check after her, something very strange happened. You know how special phoenixes are, do you? Indeed. That night, Fawkes cried upon Lily Potter's body, and she woke up to life.

A sparkle of wild insane hope sprang up deep inside him and shuddered though his whole body, speeding up his heart rate, infusing each and every cell of his being.

But even phoenixes can't bring people back from death…no...So I assumed she had just been unconscious. However, it made no doubt she had been hexed with the Killing Curse, and she had survived, just like you had.

Oh, Merlin. That can't be true.

He glanced up. The red-haired woman was still standing there, slightly trembling, her eyes shining at him. His stomach painfully clenched in a tiny hard ball, and he read on frantically.

Actually, I guessed the truth is that your father gave her the same protection she gave you.

He stood willingly in the way of lord Voldemort –without even his wand to defend himself , as it seems from the way I found him- giving his life in order to protect your mum and you.

Even if I never had any proof to this presumption, I truly believe this is the real explanation why she survived.

Yet, the reason why YOU lived and had inflicted such a severe setback upon Voldemort had to be preserved, for I knew he would come back. Indeed, I was absolutely convinced he would (and I was right, as I guess right most of the time) -and that his obsession would be to hunt you down until the death of one of you.

So I reckoned your mother's survival had to be kept secret (until now); let her sacrifice be complete to keep the protective magic fully effective.

According to this, and in order to spare your mother any temptation of coming back, I compelled her, only a few minutes after she came to her senses, to make an Unbreakable Vow with me. She swore never to reveal her existence until Voldemort had been finished. An old friend of mine was our binder, and I even Obliviated him afterwards.

I know this sounds heartless, Harry, but I had to make sure you would be provided any available help to defeat the most dangerous wizard our world ever knew. I am sure your true Gyffindor's heart will understand my point of view, even if it needs some time.

And at last, let me remind you that your mother had no way to let you know she lived. You certainly conceive she would have died if she had broken the vow…

Good luck and enjoy your new free life, Harry.

Yours, truly ever,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry looked up from the letter and blinked again, several times. A sort of haze had fogged up his brains. The full meaning of this missive was reaching his dizzy mind gradually, like small particles whirling in a drink after a vigorous stirring, sinking slowly down to the bottom of the glass.

Lily lived? She had lived hidden ever since… That was…but… the last straw…He gazed several seconds at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. His heart already knew from the moment their eyes had met. He swallowed hard, his vision blurred with wetness.

"Is that you?" he wailed, still a note of disbelief in his voice. "Mum?!"

Lily nodded, visibly at a loss for words, and after a brief awkward moment, he watched her draw close to him, like in a fuzzy and slow motion picture. As her arms encompassed him, the missive slipped from his hands. It was she.

Lily felt as if her brains had disconnected; her very first thought was downright primitive. He was taller than her, but not much. Nevertheless, it was weird to be the smaller of the two, to be smaller than her child. Lily held Harry tight, and with the physical touch came the realization that this was really happening, and tears began to roll down her cheeks, soaking his sweater.

Oh, God, her son...she was holding her son in her arms.

He, however, seemed extraordinarily calm, even rather stiff in her arms. He certainly needed some more time to realise, she thought, fighting back the insidious fear creeping back behind her neck. After a moment, he began to jolt with breathing spasms against her; it relaxed her a little, and she tried to soothe him, rubbing his back softly.

"I'm here, Harry…Mum-Mum is back …" she comforted, as she was as much speaking for herself as for him.

But then he suddenly struggled out of her embrace and pulled away, breathing hard and fast.

"Harry?" she cried out, staggering on her feet with confusion and brushing her hair out of her face.

He was standing squarely in front of her, his features twisting with pain and anger, his orbs flaring with blame and shock.

"YOU…YOU HAVE…NO IDEA…." he yelled, his dilated nostrils quivering "No IDEA…How-How it feels like …YOU-YOU…" his voice cracked and he glared at her, folding his hands in fits at his sides, yet so hard, his knuckles blanched. His lightning-shaped scar, reminder of the night that had set their lives upside down, was clearly outstanding upon his crimson face.

"I'm here now, Harry," she encouraged mildly, for that was all she could say. She dashed out her tears.

"YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD JUST COME BACK AND …AND…" his voice broke in gasps. Abruptly, he turned away, trampled a few steps, stopped, gave a furious kick in the ground, throwing a small clod of turf into the air, and set off again.

She hurt so much to see him like this, it tore her bowels. Urging to solace his distress, she walked to him and stretched her arms out, in an attempt to pull him in her embrace back again. But he raised his hand between them, pushing her away, and reared back.

"JUST LEAVE ME…LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Lily felt suddenly sick. Deep inside her, something cracked, freeing the way to brooks of woe, streaming out through the breach from a huge sea of sorrow she thought had dried out long ago. She staggered. Fresh tears of old pains gushed out, sliding heavy and hot over the skin of her face until they finally dropped from her chin onto her breast.

The haze of sorrow. James dead. Stabs of pain. Harry's screams; his little arms and fists scuffling against her breast, grasping at her hair.

"Give him to me, Lily, it's time to go."

Her arms so tightened on him, unable to make any move.

"Give him to me, Lily…"

'I-I can't."

"Give him to me…"

A last soaked and salted kiss on his cheek. The light weight of his little body yanked up from her arms.

"Please take care of him…"

The void when he was gone... like a huge chasm in the former place of her heart and guts…

She felt like falling on her knees and just crying, crying and crying…

But she was tough. She had always been. Instead, she closed her eyes and drew strength from within the depths of her being, summoning happy and soothing recollections, a bit like she wanted to cast a Patronus. Sounds, pictures, and the feelings associated with them showed up, huddling one on the other, shifting quickly.

Mum's and Dad's sweet smiles, childish mirth at Christmas time,

The mild caress of the wind on her face while flying,

Listening to Severus's passionate voice telling her about magic, comfortably embed into fluffy cushions near the fireplace, while snowflakes are whirling against the windowpane…

When the first flower blossoms in the garden,

The restless surge of the waves, rolling over and over again, clashing and rasping pebbles together, her bare feet running upon hot sand and Severus's laugh -one of the precious moments she had heard it- as he pursued her in the roaring waves…

Her heart leaping with joy at the magnificent wizardish appearance of the woman who brought her Hogwarts letter, trying her skills at magic…

Severus's reliable and friendly hand fastening her answer to Petunia's letter to the leg of a brown owl as she at last accepted to let it go,

A horrible black snake slithering out of a dark skull branded onto pale, bluish-veined skin…

NO! Mastering her pulse under this pang of dread, and with a tremendous effort, she pushed this uninvited vision away and skipped to other images.

Comfort in James's arms,

Deep, intense joy and fulfillment as Harry was placed in her arms for the first time…

The strong warmth in her core when she saw Severus alive,

Relief at holding Harry in her arms just moments ago…

She took a deep breath, and bracing herself, opened her eyes again. Her son had sunk down on the ground a few yards away, his head buried in his hands. She strode to him slowly, stepping over the remains of a gargoyle, a bit unsteady on her feet.

"Harry…" she called mildly, crouching down beside him.

"Harry, please…you read the letter..."

He just shook his head from between his palms. The world whirled around her. She had never imagined he would reject her like this. He was her unique son, she loved him, she would find a way to get to him; she had to. She could not even conceive failing to reconcile with him. She tried a gentle hand on his shoulder; he wrenched it away immediately.

"I'm so sorry ….Harry!" she pleaded, contorting and wringing her hands.

He leapt to his feet, and with a look of pure accusation, hissed down at her:

"No, you're not! YOU had the choice. You made it. I didn't!"

"Harry…" She got to her feet, too, but as she did, he turned his back on her and took a few brisk steps away. An aimless stone crossed the path of his resentful toes and was immediately hurled toward the elevated castle's walls, where it clacked, sprang back, and rolled down into the wild rampant grass flourishing at its foot. He was now standing still two strides away from the wall, his shoulders rising and falling quickly and heavily. Seen from behind, he looked so much like James, it was unsettling. Even his voice sounded like his…She shivered.

James is dead, Lily…Now just find a way to get to your son…

Repressing a sigh of exasperation, she strode resolutely toward Harry and stopped a yard away from his back, beside a battered piece of metal, which seemed to have belonged to a suit of armor. It twisted and swung back and forth.

Harry's outburst had begun to rouse her nerves. It was a tad unfair. What was he thinking? Did he think she had wanted this sacrifice? Could he not just try to guess how much she had suffered, how much her heart had been bleeding each and every day since?

But she could not blame him, either. Pain was the source of his anger, She was so much aware of it. She felt it. He was her child. The irritation swelling inside her stomach deflated; she willed her voice to be comprehensive, steady, and mild.

"Harry..."

He spun on the spot, shaking with anger, his eyes shooting daggers and grief.

"YOU ABANDONNED ME!"

"Harry..." A fresh wave of woe swamped her chest.

"DUMBLEDORE! You could have stood up to him!" he roared.

"I know!" she cried out.

"How COULD YOU...just...just…"

"Harry..." she murmured, excruciated with despair, opening her palms up to him in a gesture of utter dismay "I trusted him….I thought it was the right choice to do."

Harry just stood, neither moving nor speaking, teeth clenched, breathing ragged and shallow.

"I trusted him…" she repeated, in a sorry but somewhat resigned tone, her hands falling back at her sides.

He did not reply, and she shook her head angrily. A thick, intense silence ensued. The only disquiets were the clangs of the piece of armor tinkling against a stone. Lily had slouched down on the rock where she had first been sitting when he had seen her, arms folded over her breast, her features suffused with pain, simply watching him.

Harry was struggling with himself; his wonderful instinct told him she was sincere and understood the motives of Dumbledore's choice. But he had been robbed of his mother, deprived of a happy childhood! Despite God knew how much he truly longed to, he could not simply yield to her arms, not yet. A sweet stroke of the breeze on his cheeks murmured him to surrender to his instinct. Though, before he could work out of his raveled dilemma, pressing yells startled him.