Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-seven: Locked Away

After Harry had unblocked his magic, we practically shoved him in everyone's faces to show that he now hummed. The only things we counted now were how many months until his first birthday.

When not at work, we concentrated on the task we got suckered into by Dumbledore. Every morning, we played Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who would be the unfortunate soul that had to go to the library and find materials to pick clues from. I have no idea how many more people had been assigned the same task; Dumbledore referred to us as "The Crowd", whatever that is supposed to mean.

One night in early July, as we labored over arcane texts with quills and parchment scattered all over the place. It was much like our days at Hogwarts, except there was no footsie or eye games.

"The question is," Lily wondered aloud, "should we consider Lord Voldemort a man or something else?"

"Well, remember what Dumbledore said. He has undergone many transformations. He's barely human," I replied.

"But should we consider him human or not? And if we don't consider him human, then what do we consider him?"

"I think we should look at him both ways, to be safe," I answered.

She sighed. "In your personal opinion," Lily asked, "what do you think he is?"

"A man with too much power. You?"

"A demon."

I chuckled. "Well, then our research will be balanced, with you thinking he's not human and me thinking he is. Why do you ask anyway?"

"Some spells work only on humans, other spells on dark creatures. To find what is going to kill him, we need to find out what he is."

"They say he's looking for immortality."

"Then we must make sure he doesn't get it." Lily tapped the book with her index finger. "Who is Lord Voldemort?"

"I wonder about who he was."

"Who he was?"

"He had to start somewhere. You can't just transform into something from nothing. He must have a person before this whole Lord Voldemort business. I seriously doubt that some mother out there said, 'Oh, look at our baby boy. Let's name him... um... Voldemort!'"

Lily laughed. Then she said more seriously, "Perhaps Dumbledore knows. I'll owl him about it." She grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote the question down and rose to attach it to our owl, Iris.

Harry was sitting in his high chair nearby, playing with his box of magical toy balls. Lily kissed him on head. "Who's my good boy? Mummy loves you." She moved to the owl as Harry stared at her with a focused expression, as if he was trying to decipher something on her clothing. "Send this to Dumbledore," Lily told Iris. Iris hooted and flew out the window. "Well," Lily stated to Harry with a smile, "Mummy had her walking break. Back to work!"

"Mama," Harry replied, reaching out for her. I dropped the book I was lifting on the mounting pile of "nothing we didn't know" books. Lily gasped.

"What did you say, Harry?" I asked.

"Mama," Harry repeated.

"Harry talked!" Lily cried. "He called me 'Mama'! He was staring right at me, did you see that? He called me 'Mama'! Oh, my brilliant little man!" Lily rushed over and picked him up out of the highchair, kissing him all his face. "Who am I, Harry? Say it again!" Lily ordered, lifting him up into the air.

"Mama."

"Yes! Now, say 'daddy'! Say 'dada'! Da-da!"

"Mama!"

Lily turned her eyes towards me. "Sorry, James. Harry doesn't seem to want to say that yet."

"That's alright," I answered, grinning as I picked the book off my lap and put it on the pile. "We have to get back to work, though, Mummy."

"Daddy needs me," Lily said to Harry as she put him back in the highchair.

A few moments later, Harry stared hard at me as well. I glanced up now and then and every time, his eyes were on me. Finally, he stretched out his arms and said, "Dada!"

"He did it!" Lily cried. "He called you 'Dada', that's so sweet!"

"Dada!" Harry repeated.

"That's amazing. We'll have to watch for the glares from now on," I replied.

"Absolutely," Lily agreed.

"Dada!" Harry cried with more force.

"He's so cute!" Lily commented.

Harry screamed and beat his fists against tray, knocking the box of magical balls to the floor. "DADA!"

"Whoa!" I rose quickly and rushed to the highchair, pulling the flailing boy out. I placed him over my shoulder, walking back and forth in the room. Harry calmed down and clutched my shirt, muttering, "Dada. Dada. Dada."

On his birthday, we had a small gathering to celebrate consisting of just Harry, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I. It was relatively unpleasant. The relations between Sirius and Remus were heavily strained. It was most obvious in that Sirius and Peter had a delightful conversation and Remus and Peter had a delightful conversation but Sirius and Remus barely said anything to each other. It was worse than outright fighting because fighting means there is some sort of feeling behind the shouting. Silence means there is nothing. It was worst than when the incident with Snape happened; at least I knew the cause of the rift. But it wouldn't be until later that I would find out what was going on. At this point, I was completely in the dark.

Of course, Lily, Peter, and I pretended that nothing was wrong and this was just like any other birthday party we had been to. We all chatted about Harry's development and what was going on in our lives. Unlike the Christmas party, Remus said practically nothing about his life in Norway. A few months before, Remus had excitedly told us that he had finally gone on a date with Hilda but when we asked about her or their relationship, he would quickly change the subject.

In the middle of cake, as we chatted and pretended that Sirius and Remus weren't talking, Harry got that intense look again, this time at Peter.

"Oh, he's going to do it," Lily warned joyfully.

"It's creepy," Peter mumbled. "Having him stare at me like that."

"Petah," Harry said softly. He didn't reach out for him however. We clapped for Harry's achievement. Harry turned to Remus and stared. A minute passed in silence. "Wemus." We clapped again.

"You next, Sirius," I said cheerfully. Harry, however, didn't seem interested in Sirius. We all stared at Harry to see when he was going to do it but Harry just absent-mindedly glanced around the room. A minute passed. Then two. Finally, Lily said, "Harry."

Harry turned to the sound of her voice. "Mama."

"Say 'Sirius'. Si-ri-us, Harry," she ordered, pointing at Sirius.

"Mama."

Sirius tapped his fork on his plate slowly, as if keeping time. "It's alright," he said in a tone that meant it wasn't alright, "he's not going to say my name." He glared at his half-eaten cake. He mumbled under his breath. I couldn't hear him but apparently Peter could because he responded, "Don't be silly. Sirius is just too hard to say, all those 's' sounds. 'Peter' and 'Remus' have 'p', 't', and 'm' sounds and 'Sirius' has none of those. I'm sure it's nothing personal." Peter turned to Harry and said, "Harry, say 'Padfoot'. Pad-foot." Harry wasn't interested in Peter or Padfoot, he was reaching out for the pieces of cake left. I pulled them out of the way.

In August, Sirius came to visit briefly. He found Harry by himself in the sitting room while I was in the kitchen. From the kitchen, I heard Sirius bark and Harry laugh. I went to stand in the doorway to watch the little spectacle. Harry pulled on Padfoot's black fur, occasionally getting zapped by his unblocked magical energy. Eventually, Sirius changed back into himself and kneeled down in front of Harry.

"What's my name?" he asked. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Ever since Harry had said everyone but his name, that had been the first thing out of his mouth every time he saw Harry. "Come on, it's not hard. Sirius."

Harry stared at him. I straightened up. Maybe now was the moment. A long moment passed. Finally, he said, "Snuffles."

"WHAT?!" Sirius demanded as I fell over laughing, clutching my stomach. "Snuffles?!"

"Snuffles!" Harry repeated, laughing as well as he beat his palms against the carpet. "Snuffles! Snuffles! Snuffles!"

"Great job, Harry!" I gasped between my bursts of laughter.

"No! Bad Harry! Sirius, not Snuffles!" Sirius corrected but it was too late. Harry would only say Snuffles.

"Snuffles... is... the... black... dog... in... Ron... Seannings!" I gasped, giggling. "You shouldn't have changed into Padfoot just then. We've been reading it to him."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Did Virginia have to pick the most embarrassing name?"

"Well, I just hope that Peter doesn't change into Wormtail anytime soon or he'll be called 'Scabbers'."

*** ***

On September 13th, Lily went to visit her parents with Harry so I decided to visit my mother. I Apparated into the receiving hall and walked down to the sitting room but it was empty. "Elf!"

A male elf popped to my side. "What is Master wanting?"

"Where is my mother?"

"In the reading room. Shall Heffy announce Master to Mistress?"

"No, thank you. That is all." Heffy disappeared.

I walked upstairs to reading room, which is connected to the grand library. I always enjoyed sitting the reading room, reading a novel in privacy. The room is painted in a very pale green with gold facades along the ceiling. The carpet is a dark hunter green, which I made-believe was grass in some dark jungle. There are many comfortable chairs and couches scattered in the room along with some tiny tables.

My mother was sitting with her back to me in the chair closest to the fireplace. The fire within was crackling benignly. I could only see my mother's arms dangling over the arms.

"Hello, Mother. Just me today," I explained, "Lily is taking Harry to see her parents." I walked closer to her. "Harry is still calling Sirius 'Snuffles', it's hilarious. But Sirius has given up trying to correct him. Oh, guess what he said yesterday. He said 'yes'! Well, he really said, 'yah' but he meant 'yes'. He says new things everyday, we're always wondering what he's going to say next. And the other day, he pulled himself up to a standing position by gripping the couch. It was really exciting but when he tried to walk, he fell flat on his face. Then he cried. But he'll get it soon. Do you think so?" I paused to allow my mother to answer. She didn't respond. "Let's have some tea, then. Elf!"

A female elf appeared. "Yes? What is Master wanting?"

"May we have some tea and biscuits... actually, never mind. Mother, why don't we have some hot chocolate instead, I'm in the mood for that. Bring us some hot chocolate and some sweets, please."

"Right away." She disappeared.

"Anyway, around September 1st, I couldn't help but think about Hogwarts. Ten more years, isn't that amazing? I'll be thirty-six years old, you'll be sixty-six years old. I think Harry will be amazing, don't you think so? He'll be with Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan and that Muggle dentist's daughter and Neville Longbottom. I think Neville and him are going to be best friends, they play with each other all the time. Of course, he'll be with Draco Malfoy too but he'll beat his scores every time, I guarantee it. Don't you think so, Mother?" She didn't answer. "Mother? You're being rather quiet. Is something wrong?" My mother didn't reply. I walked over to her. "Can you hear me, Mother?" She didn't respond. "Are you asleep?"

I went around the chair to face her. A book was lying open on her lap and her head was against the back of the chair. Her eyes were rolled back into her head. "Mother?" I grabbed her hand. It was cold. I felt her neck. There was no pulse. She was dead. I put the hand down on her lap along with its mate. I removed the book, closed it and set it on the side table. Gently, I closed her eyes. I stared at her expressionless face. As far as I could tell, it hadn't been painful. Perhaps it had just been like that. Just sat down and that was it. I was glad she didn't suffer.

"Here is hot chocolate and sweets that Master wanted. Where should Gerby put the hot chocolate and sweets?" The elf was back, holding a tray with two cups of hot chocolate, a pot with some more, and a plate of petit fours.

"Gerby, we no longer need the hot chocolate but you may sit it down on that table by the window." Gerby rushed to put it nimbly down on the table. "Gerby?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Please bring me some parchment, a quill, some ink, the post owl, Zeus, and the family address book."

"Right away, Master." He was gone again.

I righted my mother so she sat in the center of the chair. I brushed her hair with my fingers so she looked a little more tidy. Satisfied that my mother looked regal, I kissed her on the forehead. "You're with Father now," I whispered in her ear.

*** ***

The funeral for my mother was very beautiful. Although I was sad to see her go, I felt a sense of closure. Now, my father wouldn't be alone. It was better this way. I wrote to everyone I could think of and mostly everyone could come to funeral except Remus.

As we, Lily, Sirius, Peter, and I, rode to the cemetery in the black carriages in silence, I thought over my mother's life. I had grown to know her better in the past two years than I had in all my life with her. I was a little disappointed I wouldn't get to learn more about her and my father.

"Strange how she died like that," Peter said suddenly. "She's... she was only fifty-six years old."

"It was a natural death, don't worry," I replied, staring out the window. "It was a stroke, they said. Simple, run-of-the-mill stroke. It was probably painless."

"Some people just go young," Lily added.

"I'd be careful, James. It's in your genes," Sirius warned.

"I wonder how long Mr. Potter would have lived if he hadn't... you know," Peter trailed off.

"There's no use in thinking about it. They're together now," I answered.

"Shame Remus couldn't come," Lily remarked sadly.

"My parents always liked you three," I said, "My mother liked Peter best. She said you were a little gentleman."

"Thank you," Peter replied.

"Actually, do you want to hear a story?"

"Sure," they all answered.

"My parents were in the bunkers during the war against Grindelwald and Hitler."

"I never knew that," Peter said in astonishment. "Why weren't they raving psychopaths?"

"Peter! That's not very nice to say!" Lily scolded.

"No, seriously, I had a neighbour that was in the bunkers and she was crazy. Used to jump at loud noises and keep all her lights on, even during the daytime."

"It could've been just her," Sirius remarked.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" I whined. They apologized. "Anyway, my parents were in the bunkers. My father had a crush on my mother but..." I paused. I didn't feel comfortable telling them about my mother's nightly terrors. It had seemed so private. "But... my father finally worked up the courage to write her a love note. That was really dangerous because the guards didn't like that sort of thing going on. Anyway, during that huge revolt in the bunkers, you know the one in 1941, my father was involved and he was sent to solitary confinement for two weeks."

"That's horrible!" Lily exclaimed.

"No, it gets better. See, my mother thought my father was really brave so she wanted to send notes to him in his cell but she didn't know how. But she found a way. A boy was assigned to deliver his meals to him. Guess who he was?" They shrugged. "Sirius' father."

"You're joking!" Peter and Lily said at the same time.

"It's true, my mother told me so. She convinced him to let her put her notes on the tray."

"No wonder my family never liked my dad," Sirius replied. "Probably couldn't stand the notion of someone in the family breaking rules like that."

"I think that's why my parents always liked you. You probably reminded them of your father. I guess without your father, I probably wouldn't even exist. Weird, huh?"

"Small world," Lily commented.

"We're here," I announced as the carriages stopped outside the cemetery. We floated my mother's coffin over to the gravesite. It felt very strange and unreal. When we reached it, the vicar began the last rites as we stood in silence.

Except for that strange noise. At first, I ignored it but the noise grew louder and louder. It sounded like someone running over the grass. People began turning their heads around and the vicar slowly stopped reading.

Running as if he was being chased by demons from Hell, his black robes billowing out behind him, Remus dashed across the cemetery towards, narrowly avoided a few angel statues. Within a minute, he reached the edge of the circle of mourners. Panting, he collapsed onto his knees.

"Remus!" I stammered. "You came!"

"Yeah, hi," he breathed.

"Did you run the whole way here?"

"I went... to... the church..." he shook his head weakly. "No one... there... ran from... there... to... here."

"Are you alright, my son?" the vicar asked with raised eyebrows.

Remus nodded. "Yeah." He waved his hands at him. "Please, continue. So sorry for interrupting."

With a grunt, Sirius pulled Remus to his feet. Remus swayed but remained on his feet, panting. The ceremony continued without further incident.

*** ***

After the funeral, Lily and I went through the process dismissing the House Elves and going through my parents' possessions. I shifted our million books, deciding which ones to keep and which to donate to the local library. I gathered all the silverware, furniture and pieces of art and selected which ones to keep, donate, sell, or toss.

Finally, we were left with the personal, sentimental effects of my parents. Without regard to what we were shifting through, we gathered every piece of parchment, every photo, every box, every little thing. When the whole manor had been gutted, we put everything in the center of the huge rarely-used dance hall and slowly began to work through it.

There were many things that I didn't know my parents kept. Lily found a collection of letters that I had written while I was at Hogwarts from my first day to my last year. Some were rather funny and I wrote about things I had since forgotten. "Dear Mother and Father, Ignore whatever it is that Lucius wrote home about. I didn't do it. I'm innocent. It was the other Slytherins, I promise." "Dear Mother and Father, Sirius is making me try out for the Quidditch team. I don't want to. Can you give a list of reasons why I shouldn't play that I can tell him?" "Dear Mother and Father, Forget what I said about playing Quidditch, being a Chaser is really fun. Thank you for the broom, it flies very nice." "Dear Mother and Father, Sirius' aunt, Clarissa, came to the match today. Dumbledore let her come. He's a great man. She had never seen a Quidditch match before. We won, by the way. Sirius got in a big fight with the Slytherin captain because he made fun of Clarissa. It got out of hand. I have a black eye now and my glasses broke. Sorry."

I also found a mountain of photographs. Most of them were in black and white. A dozen or so were of my grandparents, great-grandparents, and others further back. Most were of my parents. The setting was usually Hogwarts, I could occasionally see a boarded up window in the background. Very few were of my mother and father together, which makes sense because my parents didn't fall in love until their sixth year at Hogwarts. The ones with them together had them smiling and holding hands. Occasionally, my young father (he had hair!) would get daring and peck my young mother on the cheek, much to her wide-mouthed surprise. Many had my parents with their respective friends. It was hard to imagine that these young, bright-faced, laughing boys and girls were once my parents and their friends.

"We really should put these in a scrapbook," Lily commented as I was looking at a picture of my mother with my grandmother, apparently having a picnic. I set it down and nearly moved on when I saw six photos that stopped me cold.

Three of the pictures had only girls and the other three had only boys. The background looked almost the same in all of them: a blank white wall and three cots. On the cots, the girls and boys sat, one to a cot. The subjects sat perfectly still, their hands clasped in their laps. Their faces were grim and thin-lipped. Behind the girls on the wall were huge, black military block printing: 12 E-F. Behind the boys on the wall were also huge, black military block printing: 12 E-M. I read the backs. The girls were, from left to right, Vevina Glenda, Amaranta Owena, and Abigail Skyla. The boys were, from left to right, Liam Arlen, Elvin Gareth, and Harold Potter. I still wonder how my mother and father got these photos, my guess is that they sent them to my grandparents to show that their children were alright (yeah, right).

"Lily?" I asked, pointing to my mother. "Do you think this girl is pretty?"

"Yes, her hair is so long and sleek. Why? Who is she?"

"My mother."

"Why do you ask? Don't you think she's pretty?"

"I do. A guard in the bunkers used to tell her she was ugly. I don't know what he was thinking." I let it go at that.

A few moments later, Lily gasped. "Look!" She held up a pack of pieces of parchment tied up with string.

"What are they?"

"Letters from your dad to your mum!"

"Give me those!" I demanded and took them out of her hands.

"Here's another stack! These are from your mum to your dad! These must be the replies!"

I read through them quickly, planning to reading them more carefully later. "Dear Abigail, You may not know me but my name is Harold Potter. I sit next to you in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I hear the guards talking about you and I get so mad because they don't know an angel when they see one." "Dear Abigail, You seemed pleased at my last letter so I'm writing another. Do you know twirl your hair when you're nervous? I notice it during tests or when Professor Saxon keeps babbling on and on about who knows what. I love Ancient Runes and not just because you're in it. I love reading ancient texts and not even realize it's in another language, I'm just reading it. Don't you love that feeling?" "Dear Abigail, You really must stop smiling at me during mealtimes. I forget to eat when you do that and then I run out of time. I wish I could sneak food into my room and eat there so I could watch you smile all mealtime long. I notice that you forget to eat too. Abigail, you must eat. I will not let you wither away." "Dear Harold, I think it's unfair that you are locked up in there. I thought you were very brave. Orson has black eye now. Did you do that? I hope you did. I hope you're not hungry. If you are, tell Roger (that's the boy who gives you food and my messages) and I'll find a way to sneak some more food to you. Don't try to stop me." "Dear Harold, I wanted to tell you when we were talking but there wasn't time. I love your voice, it's so nice. You should become a singer. I've been reading through your old letters, trying to make your voice to the words. They sound much better now." "Dear Harold, I had a dream last night. We were at Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore decided to have class on the Quidditch pitch. We were trying to transfigure brooms into people but everyone but mine turned into dogs that talked. Mine turned into you. And then we were in my manor in my bedroom and you said, 'Let's have a pillow fight' and I said, 'Well, okay'. So we had a pillow fight for awhile. Then Headmaster Dippet came in and said it was time to ballroom dancing class. Then he turned into my personal House Elf, but it made perfect sense in the dream, and you said, 'Oh, he's really mad now! Headmasters turn into House Elves when they're mad!' And then the House Elf started breathing fire and then I woke up." Hundreds of letters were gathered up in the string.

Finally, we found my parents' old Reel Box. It was ancient. It looked like an old-fashioned Muggle film projector but with only one reel. Songs were on reels and you have to place the reel in the little holder and the tape was sucked into the little slit where it was wound onto a reel inside the huge box. After you were done, you had to rewind the whole thing to get it out. The device was massive, our Muzak is only an eighth of its size. We also found their reels. I decided to keep those since it would be interesting to hear what my parents listened to.

Once we had sorted through what to keep, what to give to others, and what to toss, we gathered everything up to take home.

That night, with Harry at my feet, I read through my parents' love letters and listened to their old reels. When I heard one particular song, I felt a feeling a déjà vu but I couldn't remember at the time where I had heard it.

"Oh, I'm going lock you away/Don't care about what anyone will say/Keep you under lock and key/Keep you here with me/Darling, going to seal you up tight/Gonna swallow that dang key tonight/Oh, without you there is no day/So, baby, I'm going to keep you locked away!"

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: I think we have about two to three chapters left to go. Not more than four. Well, that's my explanation on why Sirius asked the Trio to call him "Snuffles" of all things. It really bothers me! The song is not real. Thanks to my brother who is doing a personal project about the number one songs from when they first started caring until now. I was held captive for an hour when I asked, "Say, where the files on the forties?" so I could write a convincing lyric for this fic. Um... nothing interesting to report except I'm leaving for California on Thursday. I want to be finished by then at the very latest! It's not for anything fun, just college visits. October's next and you all know what that means! Dun da da! Please review. It will make me happy. Flame me, I don't care. Press the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!