Chapter Three—Lily Potter

James has to nudge me when the meeting begins, my eyes having drifted shut of their own accord.

"Lily, wake up. The meeting is starting," he whispers, pushing his pointy elbow into my ribs. It hurts. "You need to get more sleep, love."

Easy for him to say, he helps with Harry for sure, but even though he sleeps through the night now, taking care of him all day drains me completely. And then there are the dreams. I haven't told James, I've heard the way he scoffs at Divination and I don't blame him for disliking Professor Apolla, with her wild white hair, hunched back, and malevolent smile. She seemed almost excited to predict our deaths, each more gruesome than the last. Although in this day and age, they seem less like the fictional ramblings of a delusional old woman and more like statistical probabilities.

In the dreams I see my little boy grown up and at school. He's smiling with a red haired boy and a girl with wild brown hair, but there is a sadness that surrounds him—something in his eyes, a slight droop of his shoulder that only a mother would be able to detect. I know what I must do. I found the answer in an ancient spell book, Sacrificia. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends," it said before the incantation. Love is power according to Professor Dumbledore; he explained that to James and me when he asked us to join the Order. I plan on using every ounce of my love for Harry to save him. I can only hope it works.

But I am tired of worrying, tired of dreaming, and not eating, so I turn my attention back to the meeting. I watch as Severus stands before the group, his right hand raised as he repeats the oath. He understands sacrifice. We have all said this oath, but I think that of any of us here, only Severus truly understands it. He won't fight openly. If he dies, the world will not remember him as the hero that he is, but as a criminal, a man who supported the Darkness. He has and he will, but today he stands before us and swears fidelity to the Light.

I don't remember much about my own induction, only that I stood slightly shaking as I repeated after Dumbledore. James and I accompanied his friends to a Muggle pub afterwards. We drank and laughed as Sirius ranted and raved about fighting the injustices of the world. The drunker he got the louder he became until we had to leave, the people around us staring at us as he proclaimed death for giants, goblins, and dragons. It was a happy moment, when we were still innocent of what we had pledged ourselves to fight. We read the papers every day and everyone knew of someone whose family had been affected by You-Know-Who's reign of terror, but sitting in that pub we had yet to realize what awaited us. Three times since then I have been certain that I would die for our cause, but by some miracle I survived, James and I both. Perhaps I survived so that I would be able to do what will soon be needed.

I have taken precautions and tonight after the meeting I hope to tell Alice of my discovery. Maybe this duty will fall to her. Maybe it won't work at all, but I can't allow myself to think like that. I remember cornering Severus in the hallway three nights before. Many were wary when Dumbledore announced that he wanted to induct Snape into the Order. He had come to two meetings on a trial basis. If anything had gone wrong, he would have been immediately arrested by one of the Aurors and taken to Azkaban, but his information proved to be too invaluable, and in the end even Alastor Moody was convinced.

"Severus," I had said, grabbing his arm as he walked towards the door. He wrenched it away from me and scowled.

"What do you want?" he sneered.

"Promise me you'll protect him," I said boldly, looking back at James who was holding Harry high and blowing kisses into his stomach.

"Potter can fend for himself," he replied, moving closer to the door.

"Not James, Severus. Harry." He stopped mid-step but he didn't look back at me.

"He will have Dumbledore and countless others," he said sharply.

"He'll need everyone he can get," I said.

"You are so determined to be a martyr? What a kind and loving mother you must be," he said, turning back to me. I had forgotten how cruel he could be. How could I want this black and hateful man to be my child's protector? I fought back the tears and struggled onwards.

"Promise me, Severus," I pleaded. He stared at me, his face twisted into a deep scowl. "I'm not asking you to love him, or even like him, just protect him."

His face eventually softened and he nodded quickly before striding out. There was much left unsaid between us, but actions speak louder than words. I demonstrated my trust in him in my asking, and he honors me by agreeing. It is enough.