When I was a child, I taught myself how to put my finger through a flame. I would swish it through really quickly, and seeing how slowly I could do it without burning myself. It never did though. All I would really feel was the flame lick my finger and a small glow of heat pass over the pad of my finger. Walking through the flames toward the Stone was something like that.

I saw the flames touch me and I closed my eyes, waiting for the burning pain to come, but it never did. All I really felt was a warm feeling touch my skin and before I knew it, we were out into the Stone's chamber.

I lumbered out, swaying slightly. I had never really done that before and it made me feel a little weird. Quirrell on the other hand rushed toward the mirror with a greedy look on his face.

"At last," he said, grabbing both sides of the mirror, his long nose nearly touching the smooth surface.

I really didn't know what to do at this point and my choices were slim. I couldn't go back the way that I am had come but my rebellious nature decided I should do it anyway.

I wasn't going to go stand next to Quirrell, tap my chin and say, "How can I help you get the stone out of the mirror?" I wasn't even sure if that was what they wanted me here for. So I moved my foot toward the door. As if I had set off an alarm, ropes appeared out of no where, wrapping around my legs, binding them tightly and squeezing my arms together. I toppled over, crashing into the ground like a newly cut tree.

"I really had hoped that it would not have come to all this." Voldemort's voice sighed as I was levitated to an upright position.

For a moment I only saw stars then I saw Quirrell standing with his back facing me and slowly unwrapping his turban. As if hearing Voldemort's voice wasn't enough, now I had to see his face.

As the folds were removed, I started to really get scarred. I can been kidnapped, dragged down under the school, had my skull shattered, nearly died, was attacked by a troll and hadn't been scarred until this very moment. I now realized that I could quickly die, right here at this very moment. I didn't want to see his face; I didn't want to be here. I wasn't supposed to be here. Why was I here!

When Voldemort's face was uncovered, bile seemed to rise in my throat. He stretched out his face, since it had been a long time since he could breathe properly. His gray flesh seemed to wriggle out of the back of Quirrell head, twitching slightly. I couldn't throw up or scream because a rope was clamping my jaw firmly shut. His eyes suddenly opened and I seemed to have a convulsion.

My dreams came back to me suddenly, and all the more terrifying. Those eyes watched as I ran down the hallway, screaming a few names and crying. The same eyes were watching my now, and the cracked lips peeled into a smile that contained yellow teeth.

"I have been waiting a very long time to talk to you." He said, his voice dripping with false understanding and filled with malice. "The measures do seem extreme, but seeing as you rejected Quirrell in every social way, I knew that I would have to get you alone by force."

I watched as the red eyes met my own and I quickly squinted at him, showing that I was not at all happy with him. He seemed to chuckle.

"You haven't changed a bite Mrs. Potter." He said, his voice becoming strained. "And that is what fascinates me so much about you Lily, how you haven't changed at all. You look no older then the night that I murdered you and you act just the same, just as predictable. Pity that your husband doesn't seem to have the gift of avoiding death as you and your son do."

This comment shouldn't have had any affect on me, but I was so enraged that he would actually do that to Lily Potter, who he had gotten mixed up with me, I struggled harder against my bonds. Voldemort sneered, seeing my pitiful attempts at freedom.

"Yes, that gift is quite a useful one," he said, his eyes and features growing harder. "But what I don't understand Mrs. Potter, is how you and some child were able to procure something as powerful as that. I have been waiting for answers and I want them, NOW!" He said. The friendly tone had gone from his voice and his face turned more grotesque and a look of total hatred came upon his face I blinked in horror as Quirrell took a step back so Voldemort's face was right up next to mine. I was overwhelmed with the smell of garlic and my eyes began to water.

"How is it that you, a pitiful mother, and a pitiful witch, was able to save you and your son from death? I saw you fall; I saw the light fade from your eyes. I stepped over your body to reach your son and you did not move! If you were alive you surely would have moved to stop me, but you didn't! And yet, here you are, alive and well, with no scare like your son. You breathe, walk, talk, eat, and drink, while I decay in this shriveling corpse! I want to know how you did it!" He shouted, his eyes flashing red.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut it all out. But I could feel him near me. How was I supposed to answer when I didn't have any clue what the answers were? I breathed heavily, and tried to think of what to do. I looked back at him and the rope fell away from my mouth at his will.

"You want to know the truth?" I asked.

He didn't answer, but I could tell that the answer was yes. I sucked in a deep breath, knowing that the rope would be returning to its original position at my mouth.

"I am not Lily Potter, I am Lily Evens and I never had a son, never got married and I grew up in London. I was hit by a car that age twenty, which was a year ago, which is why I have trouble remembering certain things about my past." I said quickly. But I could see that Voldemort did not believe a word that I had just said.

Sure enough, the rope went back over my mouth and Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger and frustration. I was levitated closer to him.

"You will not give me any answer to what you did that night that much is obvious. But I wonder what would happen if it wasn't your life on the line." He said, eyes narrowing and thin lip curling.

I heard the sound of distant voices in the chamber behind me and my heart jumped into my throat. Harry was right behind me in the next chamber, and Voldemort knew it.

"Tell me now, and I will show your son a little mercy." He said, releasing my mouth from its bonds.

"Go to hell!" Was all that I could say before the rope covered my mouth again.

Voldemort was so angry now his gray face was twitching with rage.

"You have just killed your own son." He said.

I felt myself levitating higher until I was lying on the roof on my back, looking down at the scene from a bird's eye view. It was like I had been glued to the ceiling as a practical joke, but I knew this was far from any kind of joke. Quirrell began to hastily wrap his head up again, so as Harry could not see Voldemort. I wondered why Voldemort wanted to draw the plan out so much with the unwrapping of his face again. But I supposed that even power hungry freaks knew how to make a dramatic affect possible in a villainous plan to murder someone.

It was then that I heard the door open to the Stone chamber and the word, "You!" shouted. Harry was standing stoke still, green eyes wide with shock as he starred at Quirrell, who had finished wrapping his head and was standing with his back to him. Quirrell turned with a smirk on his face. It was as if Voldemort was telling him how to look and what to say, because I was the only one that realized that he could hardly feed himself let alone make a speech.

"Me," he said. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter." I watched, as if seeing the movie from a different camera angle.

"But I thought, Snape-"Harry said. I thought of Snape as Harry said his name and my stomach twisted strangely. I wished that he was here, right now, I needed help and he was the first one that I thought of when I thought of "help".

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, as if Harry had just given the punch line to the greatest joke in the world.

I had never heard his name spoken with such disdain. I had never actually called him that.

"Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an over-grow bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

I glared at Quirrell hoping he could feel how much I hated both him and Voldemort at the moment. I hated it how he talked about Snape like that. But when I thought about it, I said things like that as well about him. I suddenly felt very guilty.

"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry said, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand.

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your dear mother practically leaped on me as Miss Granger rushed to set fire to Snape at the Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you."

I listen to this and noticed that it sounded so much different than from the book, seeing as I had been the cause of Harry not being killed. I suddenly realized that I had saved Harry.

"My mother?" Harry asked, his face turning white.

Oh no! I thought, wriggling in my bonds. The subject had taken a completely different course! I had messed everything up!

"Yes," Quirrell said, sneering slightly at the vulnerable spot that he had found in his young opponent.

"She tried to protect you at every corner. She got in the way, many a time. And it is her fault my Master is irritated enough to have me kill you tonight."

There was a long silence, and I saw Harry beginning to look very nervous and scarred. I wish I could have helped him more, I wish I could have been a better mother, I mean, friend to him.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter, must run in the family." He said, glancing up at me slightly with a flash of annoyance. "Scurrying around the school on Halloween like, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?" Harry, saying only about a sentence for every question or reply he gave, he was so in shock.

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls. You must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off-and not only did my troll fail to beat you and your mother to death, that three-head dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly. Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

Quirrell turned back to the mirror, having not been given the chance to look at it closely since Voldemort had been talking to me.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," he said, so quietly I could hardly hear him from the roof, "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…but he's in London…I'll be far away by the time he gets back."

Again, I knew something he did not. Dumbledore was probably rushing right back. Again the thought of help coming made me happier, but the fear that by me being here was messing things up made me think that it was possible that someone could die here tonight.

"I saw you and Snape in the forest-"Harry suddenly said, trying to distract Quirrell

I then noticed that the reason why he wasn't moving was because he was also tied up. But at least he wasn't glued to the roof like some sort of chandelier. My red hair was falling toward the direction that gravity prompted it to and it was getting in the way of my eyes.

"Yes," Quirrell answered, walking around the mirror. "He was onto me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me-as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side-"

I glowed with pride at the fact that Snape had figured it out first. That was my best friend, beating everyone else to the finish line. I stopped thinking for a moment. I had just called Snape my best friend…what had been in that potion?

"I see the Stone…I'm presenting it to my master…but where is it?" I could see Harry trying to rip away the ropes with no success.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much." He said in desperation.

"Oh, he does," Quirrell responded without looking up at Harry, "heavens yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

In my opinion, I never saw Snape give any sort of hate emotions toward Harry. I had always though they had been directed at me.

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing-I thought Snape was threatening you…" I saw Quirrell face go to its real form, pale and frightened.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions-he is a great wizard and I am weak-"he said. I remembered Quirrell, about to drink the poison…

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry said nervously.

"He is with me wherever I go," Quirrell said. I wondered if Voldemort was listening to the conversation like somebody does to the radio. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it…Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has to be very hard on me."

He trailed off for a moment, as if remembering the various tortures he had been subjected to. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me…decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…"

Again, there was a silence, and my eyes shifted to Harry, who seemed to be thinking extremely hard. There came a frustrated noise from Quirrell, over by the mirror.

"I don't understand…is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?" Quirrell wasn't very bright, that was something very noticeable. I saw Harry trip in the attempt of looking in the mirror, in the same place that I had fallen over. He was like me, in a lot of ways. I didn't really know what to think of that fact. I willed him to look up and see me, but then realized that that probably wasn't the best idea. I didn't want him to become distracted and try to save me over the stone.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" Quirrell whined.

"Us the boy…Use the boy…" It irritated me, how Voldemort repeated what he said twice, trying to creep Harry out. Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes! Potter! Come here!" Quirrell clapped his hands and the ropes on Harry dropped loose. Lucky, I thought, struggling some more against my own ropes.

"Come here," he repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked forward and looked into the mirror. It was weird, knowing what Harry was thinking right at that moment, but not being able to read it word for word at the moment. I did see the change in Harry's face however when the Stone was dropped into his pocket.

"Well?" Quirrell asked, his face twisted with impatience. "What do you see?" Harry seemed to try and stand a little taller.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he said slowly, "I-I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

"Get out of the way!" Quirrell said, pushing Harry out of the way, thinking that what Harry saw was childish wishes. I saw Harry's legs twitching, as if they wanted to run as fast as they could. But Voldemort's voice pierced the air again.

"He lies…he lies…" Again, there was that whole repeating thing.

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell said, turning around and snapping his fingers as if calling a dog, "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

Voldemort spoke again, "Let me speak to him…face-to-face…"

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough…for this…" He said is a raspy voice. His long speech with me must have taken all his energy because his voice was raspy and he had to stop to take big breathes.

Quirrell then began to unwrap his turban again and Harry became frozen with fear. Don't be afraid! I wanted to yell. It's just another face on the back of another mans face! I paused in mid-thought. If I really were Harry's mother, I would be a terrible one. When Voldemort's face was finally revealed, it looked at Harry with eyes filled with glee that was devilish.

"Harry Potter," He said, his voice cracking every so often. "See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I can share another's body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks…you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

Harry stumbled backwards toward the door.

"Don't be a fool," Voldemort snarled, "Better save your own life and join me…or you'll meet the same end as your parents…They dies, begging me for mercy…"

"Liar!" Harry shouted. Voldemort chuckled.

"How touching…I always valued bravery…Yes, boy, your parents were brave…I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother…" Voldemort paused. "Yes, she died…trying to protect you…and somehow managed it…But she also managed to save herself…I find that very interesting…Now, give me the Stone, unless you wish her to die again in vain!"

"Never!" Harry yelled, and he ran toward the door.

"SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort yelled.

Quirrell leaped after Harry and I saw his hand close on his wrist. Harry fell, a look of pain on his face. Quirrell had quickly let go, caressing his hand and screaming in pain as blisters appeared all over is arm. Harry starred at the wounds in shock and wonder. I then noticed that a few of the ropes around my legs had snapped, as if affected by Quirrell injuries, which they probably were.

"SEIZE HIM! SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort was shrieking, again repeating what he had said, as if repeating the order would make Quirrell do it faster. Quirrell lunged toward Harry and grabbed his throat, strangling them. Harry's mouth was open in pain, but his eyes were showing that he was shocked. Because he was lying on his back, he could see me, tied to the roof. I widened my eyes, pleading and Quirrell cried, "Master, I cannot hold him-my hands-my hands!"

Quirrell had pinned Harry down with his knees and looking, terrified, at his raw hands.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" Voldemort hissed, his face looking up at me from the back of Quirrell head, laughing up at me. "Now you will pay! Watch your son die!" He said laughter in his voice. But at that moment, Harry grabbed Quirrell face and Quirrell let out a scream of pain. Voldemort must have also felt the pain because his face turned into agony and I say Harry faint. Quirrell fell to the ground and he must have died right then, because all of the rope on me vanished, and I fell from the roof onto the floor and heard my nose break.

Blood started to gush and I held my nose in pain and rolled over to see Harry, lying on the floor, looking tired. I blinked a few times and everything started to go fuzzy. I heard a door slamming and voices shouting, "Harry! Harry" and one particular voice saying, "Lily! Lily!" I rolled over again and saw the fuzzy form of Snape, leaning over me, his face filled with a kind of expression that I had never seen on him before. But I did not have time to examine it further, because I fainted right there, everything, going black.

I was awake, I could tell, but I did not open my eyes. There was a light coming in through the lids of my eyes, telling me that I was supposed to be awake. I was in the hospital wing, I knew it. The bed that I was in was much too comfy to be my own. I lay there for a while, but I grew bored and opened my eyes.

The orange light of a fall sunset was in the room, poking in through the white curtains that were drawn over the window. I looked over to my right and saw Harry, fast asleep, and surrounded by a mountain of presents. I smiled glad to know that he was safe and sound. I heard the door open and a moment later Dumbledore was ext to my bed, smiling down at me.

"Good to see that you are awake." He said, his eyes twinkling.

"Good to be awake." I replied, trying to sit up. But Dumbledore pushed me back on the bed firmly by the shoulders.

"No getting up yet, unless you don't want to go to the feast tonight." I immediately lay back down.

Dumbledore tapped his nose and then pointed at my own. "You might want to be careful about breaking that pretty nose of your again, or you'll end up with one like mine, and I certainly do not want anyone breaking my record," He said.

I laughed and smiled up at him. I saw his face turn a little worried.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Dumbledore didn't answer. He walked around my bed and looked outside the window, hands behind his back. He stood there for a long while without saying anything.

"The first time that I saw you, at Jessica's book signing," Dumbledore said, "I was shocked." I looked up at him, waiting for more. He paused then continued. "And when Jessica said that she wanted to send you back with me, I though, 'By Jove she's gone mad!' She knew perfectly well that your presence would stir up quite a lot of emotion, but I do not believe that she ever thought that sending you back would put you in any danger! But I have to speak my mind Lily," Dumbledore said, turning to face me.

"I do not like it at all that Voldemort has taken such an interest in you. I knew that he would, perhaps, be a little curious to know why you look like her and share the same name, but I did not think that he would kidnap you."

"That was kid of my fault," I said, cutting in. "His original plan was to have me get into a relationship with Quirrell and he could figure out more about me without exposing himself. I refused to play along."

Dumbledore sat down on my bed, looking distressed.

"All the same Lily, I believe that you are in grave danger! Voldemort believes that you are Lily Potter, back from the grave! And you are in the deepest trouble because of it. But I am only half as worried as I would be if you could not predict the future of our world. But I still feel that you should leave."

I froze. "What?" I said, my stomach dropping in shock. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I would not suggest it if it were not completely out of the fact that it is for your protection."

I still could not believe that he was asking this. The reason that I had left my own time was to be here, and I was just supposed to leave it?

"No." I answered, folding my arms.

Dumbledore looked very grave.

"I thought you might say that," he said, "I will not force you. But there may come a time Lily when you will need to leave Hogwarts for the purpose of your safety, or perhaps, the safety of another."

I just looked at him, not willing to accept it. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Just, think over what I have said. Finn is going to pick you up after the feast to take you to the Three Broom Sticks, where you are going to be staying for the summer."

I did not reply; I was still being rather huffy. Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the door. I didn't look after him, not until he said, to someone else, "She is awake." I looked at the door and saw Snape walk in, dressed in long, sweeping black robes. He stood at the door, not moving.

I looked at him, and my chest felt a swooping sensation at the sight of him. He looked at me for a long time, until he walked over, very slowly, to the side of my bed. He sat down on the chair provided and we just looked at each other.

"I hope," Snape said, sounding like he was choking, "That you are feeling better."

I just looked at him.

"I'm sorry for acting so horrid to you." I said.

Snape didn't seem to react to this, and I felt like I didn't make it clear enough how sorry I really was.

"Severus," I said.

His eyes shot to mine. I had never called him Severus, and it made my feel, happy to say it. I looked down, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and weird.

"Please tell me that we are still friends," I said.

Snape was quiet for a spell.

"Yes," He said.

I smiled up at him. "Good," I said, feeling light for a moment.

Again, there wasn't any talking for a long while.

"I hope that we will always be friends," I said.

Snape stood up. I watched him. He simply stood there staring at me for a long time, and then walked out of the Hospital Wing without another word.

More people can in to see me. Hermione and Ron came to my bed after Harry's and Hermione threw herself in my arms and cried, saying that she was sorry about our fight, which had been months ago. I laughed and hugged her back, happy that we were friends again.

"What was that silly fight even about?" I asked as she pulled away to wipe her tears away.

"Oh, about that s-silly package that S-Snape sent you." She blubbered. I blinked.

"Snape didn't send me a package." I said. Hermione looked up, her eyes red.

"That Ares fellow, his name can be mixed up to spell Professor Snape's name," she said, blowing her nose. "I thought that he was sending you something dangerous b-because we thought he was trying to steal the Stone. But after I found out it was Quirrell, I just thought you used codenames or something." She glanced up at me. "What was in the package?" She asked.

"I don't know," I said, still in shock, "I never opened it."

Besides the Trio seeing me, the Weasley twins came along with Percy who brought me flowers.

"Poor fellow," Fred said, shaking his head at Percy as he rushed out, ears red. "He really has a thing for you."

"You'll have to come by and have dinner with us during the summer," George said, grinning. "I'm sure Mum would love to meet you."

"And giving Percy a heart attack isn't that what your real goal is?" I asked, laughing. Fred and George looked offended.

"Really Miss Evens, like we would do such a horrid thing," They said their innocent tones counteracted by the grins they gave me.

Harry also talked with me while we waited to be released to go down to the feasting Hall.

He was very good about not bringing up that fact that he still thought I was his mother. I did however notice the hopeful glances that he gave me.

When we were released to the Great Hall, I found my way to the teacher's table and sat down next to Snape. I didn't say anything to him, although he looked at me for a long time. I still couldn't believe that Snape could be Ares. Ares felt like he was my ex-boyfriend but he felt like a totally different person than Snape. It really could not be true.

Snape realized that I didn't want to talk, but he still asked, "What will you be doing this summer?"

"Working in Finn's clothing shop." I said. Snape sneered, and for some reason that made me feel better. He can't be Ares, I said to myself. Hermione made a mistake.

"And you?" I asked. Snape turned his head.

"Simply staying home," He said, "at least I will not have to resort to working with a fop such as Finn." He said.

I laughed and shook my head, the word "fop" sounding funny when it came out of Snape's mouth.

"I invite you to come by and pick out a few new clothes," I said, "Your color palette needs more…uh, variety." Snape raised his eye brows.

"Your attempt at being friends with me is ultimately failing Miss Evens if you are suggesting that you do not like my clothes." He said.

I was silent for moment. "Sorry," I said, turning back to my food. But it didn't last long. I turned quickly back to Snape and said, "You know, it would be nice if you called me Lily every once in a while, if you want to. Do you think you can do that for me?" I asked.

Snape just looked at me for a very long time.

"Yes, I think that I can do that…Lily."