"Would you like something to drink, Harry?" Liz indicated the tiny refrigerator built into the wall of the limo.
"Well, what do you have?"
"Anything you'd like."
"Just water'll be fine." She opened the fridge and an infinite variety of choices were arrayed before him.
"Carbonated? Flavored? Imported? Just plain H2O?"
"Uh, just plain is great." Harry took some time to make a closer examination of his traveling companion. Her face was young, with bright blue eyes, framed by auburn curls. "You're not from around here, are you? Your accent, it's not, well, it's not normal."
"Oh, I'm from around here. I was born in WHERE? But I've been gone for a while." Harry stared blankly. "Ok, here's the long and the short of it. I think I've talked more today than in any other day in my life!" Liz had been born in London to a long line of rich, aristocratic, purebloods on her mother's side. Her father was a mystery she had been trying to piece together for years. During Voldemort's uprising, Liz's mother, Vivian, and she stayed out of it all, lying low on the family's estate outside of London. When she was six, Vivian had bundled Liz off to the United States. Liz had learned very quickly to drop her accent or risk merciless teasing. She attended a nameless school in New Orleans, where she studied standard magic, as well as Dark Arts and traditional Creole practices. Over the years, she acquired a Southern accent that infiltrated her speech. She had still returned to England every summer though, to visit old friends. Just this past month, Liz and her mother had returned to England for good.
"So, um," said Harry, fishing for conversation, "are you going to Hogwarts next year? Or no…?"
"All my friends here go to Hogwarts, and it'll by more convenient for work, you know? I'll be a sixth year."
"Sixth? But what…" Harry stared in disbelief, "that would mean you're underage, right? What about the flying charms on my things back at the house?"
"I'm seventeen, Harry. I would be done with school by now, but I spent a few years studying abroad, so in terms of formal schooling, I'm behind. But," she smiled mischievously, "I did manage to completely test out of one subject."
"What?' Harry didn't even know that you could test out of subjects at Hogwarts!
"A few weeks ago, I took some tests to see where they'd put me. I tested out of Divination. Plain, old good intuition is what I'd call it, but I guess I've really got a knack for it. Some things can't be taught." She was bragging, but only a little. "Oh, and I'm not taking History of Magic. I'm so far behind that I'm just going to study it this summer. I know ancient and American magic history, but my British is quite rusty. So I'll be doing some extra potions studies, ancient herb-lore and stuff to fill up my time."
"Potions? Then you'll be with Snape. He's rotten. Unless you're in Slytherin, or maybe a pureblood, he's got it..." Harry trailed off, remembering that Liz was a pureblood, and feeling a little sheepish.
"I know Severus well. He's an old friend of my mother's. And I probably will be a Slytherin. My mom was. A lot of my family was." Liz saw the look on Harry's face, "A lot of bad witches and wizards came from Slytherin, but that doesn't mean that Slytherin is a one-way ticket to Death-Eater-ville." An extremely awkward silence passed between them, when suddenly she exclaimed, "Oh! Look! Here we are!" And there they were.
They were in the country, and in the dimming twilight you could see the distant London lights. Harry turned back towards the house and found before him a picture-perfect pastoral scene: a great country manor house, fields for animals (or Quidditch, it occurred to Harry), and a forest bordering the vast property. "Welcome to my home. It's been in the family for, well, no one really knows how long!" Liz beamed with pride, giddy like a little girl. For the first time all day, she was completely at ease, warm and comfortable. She was bubbling over. Liz grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him along behind her. "Don't worry about your stuff," she called back, "it'll get where it needs to go. There's someone you need to meet!" She pulled him up stairs, around corners, and past door after door, until they reached a set of double doors at the end of a hallway. The doors were massive, nearly three times as tall as Harry. They were made of black wood, covered in carvings of the night sky and writing from a language Harry couldn't read.
"Are these hieroglyphics? Where did you get these?"
"They're from ancient Egypt, but they've been in the family for centuries, like most of the stuff around here. I can't really say where or when we got them. They've just always been here. They aren't even as cool as what's inside though! C'mon!" She pushed the doors open with ease, and they closed on their own behind the two, but Harry didn't even notice. Except for the floor and where the back wall met the house, it was a completely round room made entirely of glass, like when you hold a bubble in your hand. It was filled with immense mahogany bookshelves that reached to the ceiling, crammed with books. Harry couldn't even tell where the room ended above his head. It seemed to reach forever skyward. Enormous, high-backed armchairs surrounded numerous tables strewn with skymaps, quills, parchment, and even more books. Telescopes of various shapes and sizes were arranged around the edge of the room. The night sky stretched above them, stars shining brighter here than they ever did at home. Then a new voice interrupted his reverie.
"Hello, dear. I'm glad you're home." A tall but slight woman with long red hair rose from an armchair. The scroll she had been reading fell forgotten to the floor as she hugged Liz.
"Harry, this is my mother, Vivian. Mom, this is Harry Potter." They could have just been younger and older versions of the same person; only their eyes betrayed their individuality. Vivian's eyes were green emeralds, instead of blue, like Liz's. Vivian hugged Harry as well.
"Welcome to our home Harry. We're very glad you've finally made it here." Her voice was light and feathery, invoking images of Professor Trelawny for Harry, but with more truth to her. Vivian's eyes looked like they spent more time gazing up at the stars than at the world around her. Her arms held him lightly, but firmly. She reminded Harry of how he thought his own mother would have hugged him. "Just call me Vivian, dear." She set him back and surveyed him from head to toe, circling, examining every speck of him. Harry stood as still as he could, feeling more than a little like a specimen under a microscope. He heard Liz smother a chuckle behind him, obviously amused at his discomfort. "You're a little roughed up, but otherwise, you're just right. Just as I Saw you."
"But I've never met you before. Where have you seen me?" Harry was a bit shocked. He certainly would have remembered Vivian. She wasn't like anyone he'd ever met.
"Oh, I've never seen you before Harry. We've never met. But you are very important to our fates, Harry. Everyone's fates. I Saw you long ago, when I first met your mother. I knew then that our two generations would shape the world for years to come. We were only eleven," Vivian, "Only eleven, and I knew she'd have you."
"Tell me about my mother, please? I don't know her at all. I've heard all about my father, from Dumbledore, Sirius, Professor Lupin, Snape, even Voldemort. I don't know anyone who really knows her! Not my aunt, not anyone. Please?" Harry's eyes were pleading. She had died to save him, but he knew so little about her. At last, some answers were so close.
"Of course, child. Come," she answered. Each of them took a chair, settling in for the story. "Your mother was an impressive witch, Harry. Yes, she was muggle-born, but she quickly became someone to be reckoned with if you crossed her. Eventually we grew apart. The first time I saw her was at King's Cross Station, trying to get through to the platform. I gave her a hand, of course, back then, there was more to being a pureblood than being an arrogant snob. There she was, little Lily Evans. A bunch of us were talking about our families, and that's when I Saw you, Harry. You had her eyes, and her smile. She had a beautiful smile. She smiled a lot, but not always. Oh, and Merlin help the fool that crossed her. She was quick and clever. She never missed a trick. Lily was legendary in charms, and her hexes were just as good, if not better. She didn't use them often though, but she could come up with just about anything on the spot," Vivian chuckled. "There was this one time, in particular. You see, your mother didn't think much of your father in the beginning..."
"Aw, Lily! Just an hour! Just hang out with me for an hour!" James pleaded, trailing after Lily. He was grinning conceitedly, sure he'd win her over this time. Lily whirled around to face him, as well as Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who stood arrayed behind him.
"James Potter, you are, without a doubt, the most arrogant, ego-centric ass I have ever known! And until you and your band of hooligans grow up a few years, you'll have as good a chance with me as… as… as Lucius Malfoy!"
"Lily, you are so cute when you're all riled up like this, " James put his arm around her shoulder, "so, why don't you just admit that you're head over heels for me, like every other girl in this school, and submit to your adoration?"
"So that's how you want to be?" Lily said as she pointed her wand straight at James, "Have it your way!"
At first it seemed like nothing happened, then James tried to respond. "Hee-haw! Hee-haw? Hee-hee-hee- HAW!" James covered his mouth in shock, and Lily looked supremely satisfied. James looked to his friends, but they were rolling on the ground, roaring with laughter. James gave Lily a glare, and marched off down the hall.
"It took the teachers two days de-hex James! He finally realized what it's like to be embarrassed in front of everyone. He cooled down after that, and apologized to Lily. They were dating a week later. She just really impressed him, and he was hard to impress!" Vivian had calmed down enough to speak. "Your mother was a natural, Harry. It was only her fifth year, and it took the teachers two days to figure it out!" She sank into her chair, and seemed to just fall asleep.
"She'll be like that until tomorrow," Liz told Harry, "She Sees in her dreams. She's not really, well, here a lot, you know? She spends most of her time dozing and dreaming. It's hard sometimes, cause she's not really like a mom now. It's changed a lot in the past two years, how she Sees. She doesn't leave the house much. She really can't. She just doesn't function where we do. So I handle our business, our money, the Ministry, any councils our family holds a seat on, that sort of thing. It's all been legally passed to me. I'm not like that, so I take care of things"
They walked for a long while, making their way back to the entryway, and across it to Harry's room. "Here we are!" Liz said, sweeping open the door, "Your things are already in there, and if you need me, I'm upstairs, right hallway, third door on the left. I'll wake you up in the morning for breakfast. I'm glad you're here." Liz gave him a hug and closed the door behind Harry before she walked upstairs.
Harry looked around the room Not only was it larger than his bedroom at home, and certainly larger than the cupboard under the stairs, it was quite possibly larger than the Dursley's entire house! But Harry just couldn't explore all of the doors, nooks and crannies, nor the gargantuan bathroom he glimpsed through an open archway to his right. He was so tired he could barely stand. So, he climbed under the ample blankets of the royal four-poster bed, sank into his pillows, and slipped into sleep