Chapter 21 Time of Dying

On the ground I lay

Motionless in pain

I can see my life flashing before my eyes

Did I fall asleep?

Is this all a dream?

Wake me up

I'm living a nightmare

…was it all too much

Or just not enough?

Time of Dying by Three Days Grace

James had long given up on trying to get Lily to communicate. He left her on the kitchen floor so he could quickly write a letter to Dumbledore. The redhead sat in the same place he had found her in; she had wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her head on her knees. Slowly but rhythmically she rocked back and forth, keeping her face hidden by a curtain of flame-coloured hair.

James paced the living room floor, wringing his hands anxiously. From time to time he would unconsciously pinch the skin of his wrist until he nearly bled, but he was seemingly unaware of the pain. After twenty minutes of this there was finally a frantic knocking on the front door. He rushed forward and pulled the door open, breathing a sigh of immense relief when he saw that it was Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, still dressed in their nightclothes with long black cloaks hastily thrown on over them.

They hurried inside, and James closed and locked the door after them.

"Where is she?" McGonagall asked breathlessly.

"In the kitchen," James replied, and when both adults turned to go in there he hastily added, "But I have to you warn you now, it's really gruesome, and she won't talk to you."

They barely even hesitated at his words, rounding the corner to enter the kitchen. McGonagall let out an odd, strangling-like noise and left the room shortly thereafter. James decided to join Dumbledore in the kitchen while McGonagall tried to regain her composure in the front room.

His stomach clenched as he caught sight of the body, and he nearly gagged again. Dumbledore was standing over the rocking girl. He still had the same calm demeanour, although the twinkle had left his eyes, and he was considerably paler than before.

"What has happened here?" he asked, and James wasn't entirely sure to whom the question was addressed.

Since Lily was making no obvious attempt to respond, silently rocking back and forth and keeping her face hidden, it was James who answered. "I'm not entirely sure, sir." Dumbledore turned to look at him. "It's a bit hard to remember. I do remember that I got a letter from Lily asking me to meet her at her house, but when I showed up, she didn't have a clue about the letter. Then a man in this really horrid bone mask showed up, and then…" He trailed away with an exasperated sigh. "I don't really remember anything else, just waking up on the floor, with Lily sitting over her father's body with a bloody knife in her hand."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. And you say Miss Evans hasn't spoken since you found her with the knife?"

James shook his head. "I asked her what happened, and she said she didn't know. Then she started to say something else and then stopped. She wouldn't tell me what she'd been about to say, no matter how much I begged her. Then I sent that letter to you."

Once again the old man nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, would you mind checking on Professor McGonagall? I expect she's had quite a nasty shock."

James nodded and left the kitchen. He found his Transfiguration teacher sitting on the couch, her eyes closed and her fingers at her temples. He came to sit beside her, and she opened her eyes with a small sigh.

"I don't even know what to say," she said haggardly. "I never would have expected…this coming from such a sweet, innocent girl like Lily Evans. I fear for the world, if acts of such violence are capable of coming from someone like her."

"He deserved it," James suddenly burst out heatedly, anger making bright patches of colour appear on his cheeks. McGonagall turned to look at him, startled at the display of emotion. "I mean, you saw the way he treated Lily; you saw all those bruises on her body every summer! Can you even imagine what he must have done when they were alone?"

For several long moments they were both silent. Then McGonagall stood. "Come, Potter. I'm guessing Albus will be needing our assistance in the kitchen."

When they stepped back into the kitchen, they found Dumbledore crouched next to the redhead, who was rocking faster than ever. "Miss Evans, I know you're in a state of severe shock, but I need to get some answers before I proceed. I'm going to need you to cooperate with me."

"Albus, surely this can wait? The poor girl has been terribly traumatized tonight. Perhaps we should wait awhile, let her mind heal, before we force her to relive this horrible night."

"I would agree with you, Minerva, if this were not a matter of time," Dumbledore replied tiredly. James noted that he was looking older than he'd ever seen him. "Unfortunately, we will have to involve the Muggle authorities as well as wizarding. We shall need an explanation to give the Muggles, and you know as well as I do that the Minister will be wanting a detailed explanation."

James thought about this for a moment while the adults were silent. "Couldn't you just tell the Muggles it was a case of self-defence? They wouldn't know the difference. And you could simply tell the Minister you suspect self-defence but won't know for sure until you can get Lily counselling to help her get past the shock."

"It's certainly worth considering, Albus," McGonagall said pleadingly. "Think about everything else this poor girl has gone through this year alone! Her mind is incredibly fragile, and I think it would be best to wait until she is ready to tell you what really happened here."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, you're both right. Miss Evans needs time to let her mind rest and recuperate before she relives this nightmare."

u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n

Dumbledore sent Professor McGonagall back to the school to act as headmistress while he went to the Ministry of Magic to speak with the Minister himself. James was left at the house with Lily and the body. He was meant to call the police and wait for them to arrive, and then explain everything. After the police's questions had been answered and the body taken away to be dealt with by their people, James was to bring Lily to King's Cross, where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting to take them back to the school.

There was a brusque knocking at the door. James answered it quickly, and allowed entrance for the man and woman dressed in the uniform of the Muggle London authorities. The first thing they asked was to see the body, which James lead them to and then watched as they looked it over. Lily was no longer in the kitchen; James had scooped her up and set her down gently on the couch in her bloody clothes and all. As soon as he'd done this, she drew her knees up under her chin again and hid her face, though she no longer rocked.

"This is where you found the knife?" the woman policewoman asked, pointing down at the bloody knife next to the corpse.

James nodded. "Yes, that's where she'd dropped it."

The man looked him over somewhat suspiciously. "So, tell us…what exactly happened here?"

"I got a call a few hours ago from Lily, my girlfriend, saying that something really bad happened, so I told her I'd come right over," James said, giving them the story he had been reciting and memorizing since Dumbledore and McGonagall had left. "When I got here, I found her in the kitchen, sitting right there—" he pointed—"holding the knife and crying. I asked what happened, and she told me that her father had come home drunk and attacked her, and so she'd grabbed a knife off the counter and tried to fight him off. Then she said things got kind of fuzzy, and she just sort of lost it and started stabbing him."

"And your girlfriend's father has had a history of beating his daughter?" the policewoman asked.

"Yes," James replied quietly. "She told me that he's been doing it for almost nine years now."

"Why wasn't this abuse ever called in?" the policeman asked suspiciously. It was clear he didn't believe this story, even though James and the professors had made the story stick as close to the truth as they knew it.

"She's been too ashamed to tell anyone. Her mother doesn't even know," James replied, fixing his glasses. "I just recently found out myself."

"So why didn't you report it?"

"She begged me not to tell, and I promised that I wouldn't."

"You should never make a promise like that," the policewoman said sternly. "You should have told a trusted adult as soon as you found out. This could have been prevented."

"She isn't…you know, going to get in trouble for it, is she?" he asked uncertainly. "I mean, it was self-defence after all. You believe me, right?"

"It would be better to hear this coming from her mouth, not yours," the woman said more gently.

"Well, you could try and talk to her, but I haven't gotten her to say a word since she told me what happened, no matter how hard I tried. She's in shock. If you don't mind, I'd like to take her to a hospital."

"In a moment, son. We need to take a look at her first," the man said, as the woman grabbed out her radio and began to speak into it, asking for a forensics team and the coroner to come.

"Sure. She's back in the living room." James led the officers back into the living room, where the redhead sat on the couch. "Lily, these nice people want to talk to you. They're here to help."

"Lily, my name is Detective Sanchez, and this is my partner, Detective Johnson," said the woman, crouching down in front of the couch. Lily didn't look up or move at all. "Can you tell me what happened, Lily?"

Silence followed, only interrupted by the crackling of the radio at the detectives' waists.

"Your boyfriend says it was self-defence. He says your father attacked you first, and you were only defending yourself. Is that true?"

To James's utter shock, Lily responded. She lifted her head slightly and peered at the woman through a curtain of her flaming red hair. "Yes."

The detectives looked at each other, then at James, who shrugged, looking as shocked as they did.

"Do you want to tell us what happened?" Sanchez asked gently, ducking her head to look into Lily's eyes, though they just stared out at nothing in particular, looking slightly glazed over.

"H-he was drunk. He attacked me. I grabbed the knife and tried to fight him off. He called me a worthless bitch—his favourite phrase for me—and I-I guess I just lost it. I started to s-s-stab him and I couldn't stop myself. Then…I don't remember."

"You don't remember calling your boyfriend, or telling him what happened?"

Lily shook her head. "I don't remember much of anything. I'm sorry."

"That's alright. I understand. Thank you for your cooperation," Sanchez said. Lily put her head back down. "But before we let your boyfriend take you to a hospital, could you do me a favour?" One eye opened and peered out of the curtain of hair. "Can you show me where your father hit you?"

Silently Lily stood. Slowly she stepped out of all her clothes until she stood in front of all three of them completely naked, seemingly unashamed. The detectives carefully examined her body while she stared straight in front of her, unmoving and unblinking. James wasn't sure which hurt him more…the number of bruises in all states of healing that marred her normally perfect skin, how skinny she had become, or the lifeless, empty look in her eyes. At least physical wounds would heal. Who knew how much mental damage had been caused in the past nine years of torture?

The detectives made note of all her injuries, including the knife slash across one arm from when Dean had been fighting back, saying quietly to each other, "These are definitely defensive wounds."

Finally he could take no more. "Look, if you don't need her anymore, I really think I should get Lily to the hospital now. You can get in touch with her mother if you need to get a hold of her again."

"Certainly." Johnson nodded. "We've got all we need right now, and it really is best if she gets to a hospital soon. That wrist looks pretty bad."

James simply nodded, then went to help Lily into her clothes again, since she was still standing with a blank look on her face. "Don't worry," he whispered in her ear, alarmed at how icy cold her skin was to the touch. "The Hogwarts Express is waiting for us at the station. Soon we'll be able to get out of here."

"I'd better go get her a jacket though," he said aloud. "It's pretty cold out tonight."

He dashed up the stairs before waiting for a response. Performing a quick search of all the upstairs bedrooms he found her trunk with her school supplies, and threw in some more clothes at random from her closet and drawers, figuring she'd want some of it. Then he took out his wand, shrank the trunk, and put it in his pocket. He was searching for her jacket when, on impulse, he decided to grab a blanket off her bed, too. He then went back downstairs, slipped the jacket on her, and then wrapped her up in the blanket.

"Thanks for everything," he said breathlessly to the detectives, who were now waiting on the rest of the team to come clean up and take the body away.

"No problem, kid," said Sanchez with a sad smile as they walked with the young "couple" to the door.

James scooped Lily up into his arms as Johnson opened the door, and stepped out into the night. It was raining now, not quite drizzling and not quite pouring, either. The water was mixing with the snow already on the ground to form a dirty slush that would freeze overnight and turn to ice. He pulled the blanket up to shelter Lily's face as he hurried out of the neighbourhood, desperate to put as many miles between her and that house as possible.

It was a long walk to the train station, and before long he was soaked through with ice-cold water and shivering violently. He could hardly see from the rivers of rainwater running down his glasses. However, Lily was lightweight and he was determined to make it to the train as quickly as possible. This night had been one long ordeal after another, and his body ached and his mind was exhausted. All he wanted to do was curl up in some warm, dry clothes and sleep.

At last they reached the train station, and his pace automatically sped up. He passed through the barrier onto platform 9 3/4, and to his immense relief, the scarlet steam engine was waiting for them like Dumbledore had promised.

He stumbled into the first compartment and set Lily gently on the seat. Then he took out his wand and first dried her, and then himself, unable to help feeling glad that he was seventeen.

He sat the seat next to the redhead, who remained silent. He set his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. He smiled thinly. Without a word she crawled into his lap and curled into a little ball. He draped the blanket across them both and stroked her hair until they both fell asleep.

A/N: So I wanted to address some problems I already know are going to come up: Why did Dumbledore leave Lily and James to deal with the Muggle police by themselves? Answer: because it wouldn't fit with the story the three of them (James, Dumbledore and McGonagall, that is) came up with (about Lily calling her "boyfriend" over after murdering her father). And yes, I do realize Dumbledore is terribly out of character, and I'm sorry. I normally don't include him in my fanfics, and if I do, he doesn't really play a significant role to the story line. This is pretty much the first fic I've written in which he shows up quite a few times, so I'm not accustomed to writing about his character. I know that's not a very good excuse, and I should try harder to keep him in character, but honestly I mostly just use him to fit the plot. I hope it doesn't bother any of you enough to where you don't want to read this anymore.

Also, thanks so much for the reviews, everyone! I'm really happy to have gotten more than 6 or 7 reviews this time, so I decided to update early. It really means a lot as an author to receive reviews, even if they're really short and just tell me "It's really good" or something. Anything will do, really...because I just want to know that people are reading and liking this story, that's all.

K, I'm done now. As always, please review! (You know what'll happen if you don't lol)