Ugh, snowy days are crap. I hope you all know that. I've been sitting here on my lazy ass all weekend, trying to motivate myself to put down the year-old copy of ELLEgirl, get up out of bed, and schlep myself over to the computer and update this fanfiction! I'm happy to say that I've finally found some inspiration- 34 reviews! Awesome, I love you guys. I promise Ch. 6 of A Hogwarts Tale will be up soon. Here's Au Pair.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because my name, to my own misfortune, is not J.K. Rowling. Yippee.
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It was Dumbledore who had taken her from Godric's Hallow that night, Lily later found out. He had Apperated them to his office and left her to go back to her house. Dumbledore transfigured a potted plant to look like Lily's body and placed it in Harry's nursery. Ministry officials started to arrive not long after that, looking very solumn indeed, and took away the bodies of the Potters. Dumbledore was extremely saddened by the death of James Potter. James had been one of his favorite students in Hogwarts, despite his trouble making. Dumbledore left to make sure his child arrived at the Dursley's. After he was positive that Harry was safe, Dumbledore departed from Privet Drive and left for his office where Lily was waking. He explained the night's events as she sat in wonder, shock, and disbelief. Wonder, that Harry, only a baby, could not only survive Lord Voldemort's attck, but also be the reason for his disappearence. Shock, that Peter Pettigrew could betray his friends. Disbelief, that she could do nothing to help Sirius.
Shortly after Halloween Night, Dumbledore informed Lily that Sirius was being sent to Azkaban for selling the Potters to Voldemort. Lily was the only person alive that knew he was not the accused secret-keeper and traitor, but there was no evidence to prove this. If Lily came forward, no one would believe her. She looked completely different from her former self and would very likely be taken for an imposter.
When Lily confronted Dumbledore about the true identity of the turncoat, he agreed with her. If would not be wise to come forward. No one would believe her. Common prejudices were easier to believe than truths. That a member of the notorious Black family was Voldemort's servent was easier to believe than the treachery of a small, weak-minded boy to his friends.
Dumbledore had another reason for not wanting to come forward with Lily's survival. In the wrong hands, his spell could be used for terrible deeds. The side effect especially. Who knew what the Death Eaters would do if they could change their appearances with a wave of their wands? It was much too risky for the wizarding world to be aware of such a spell until "the bugs were removed," so to speak.
So Lily and Dumbledore watched from afar as their friend was sent to the dementors of Azkaban. Being helpless is a terrible feeling.
Lily moved into a small house on the outskirts of London. She spent most of her time there mourning James' death and worrying about Harry. Dumbledore had placed a lookout next door to the Dursleys, so Lily was able to follow the major events of her son's life through Arabella Figg. She delighted at the signs of magic in his blood, grieved over his mistreatment by the Dursleys. Yet she never saw her son's face, and it was slowly driving her mad.
Dumbledore informed her of the day Harry was accepted to Hogwarts. It was one of the happiest days of Lily's life, right along with her own acceptance to the school, her appointment of Head Girl, her wedding day and Harry's birth. Lily was immensely proud of the things Harry had accomplished. Saving the Sorcerer's Stone from Voldemort, killing the basilisk that had haunted Hogwarts for so long, Fighting off a hundred dementors to save Sirius. Lily was both pleased and heartbroken when Dumbledore told her that Harry's Patronous took the form of a stag. She was moved to know that James would protect his son even in death. She missed him more every day.
Lily listened to Dumbledore's stories, horrified at the pain Harry went through. She cried after hearing of Harry's experience in the graveyard, seeing Cedric Diggory murdered and Voldemort come back to life. Lily learned of Harry's terrible fifth year at Hogwarts' betrayed by the people he trusted and tormented for his courage. Harrassed, embarrassed, and bad-mouthed, Harry got through the year only to see his Sirius, his friend and guardian, killed before his eyes. Lily wept.
It was time, Dumbledore informed her. The part of his life when Harry would need a mother most. Lily packed her few bags, placed her owl, Peine, (who was disguised as a parakeet) into her cage, and left for Privet Drive to see her son for the first time in fifteen years. She was to give him as much comfort as possible without giving away her identity.
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Lily Potter now lay on the bed in the guest bedroom of her sister's house in Little Whinging. Her son, whom she hadn't had any contact with for fifteen years, lay in a similar position on his tiny bed in the cupboard directly below her.
Harry Potter was crying. It was a habit he'd picked up since his godfather's death. Harry felt sadness, anger, but above all, immense guilt. He would never let go of the fact that he was responsible for Sirius' death. If only he had studied Occlumency harder, if only he had listened to Hermione's warnings about Voldemort using his "hero disposition" to his own advantage. If only…
There were so many "if onlys," it was much easier to clear his mind and try to sleep.
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Lily knew of her son's grief; she herself was devastated at learning of Sirius' death. He had been one of her dearest friends, a true Marauder and a strong, courageous man.
Dumbledore had warned her not to show her true self to Harry, but Lily was filled with curiosity and was anxious to find out more about her son. She pulled out her wand and tapped the floor of her bedroom. The floor seemed to melt away, but it really just took the appearance of the room below it. Lily placed another spell on the floor in addition to the Disillusionment Charm so that she would be able to see Harry, but the ceiling would remain the same to him, like a looking glass that was only transparent through one side.
Lily crawled onto the floor. She watched Harry on his bed, crying. Oh, he looked so much like James! Lily thought nostalgically. His face, his posture, his body, his expressions. She watched him rise from his bed and start to pace the circumference of his tiny room, tears still falling. Only when he collapsed back onto his bed and lay on his back, staring directly at the ceiling, did Lily see Harry's eyes for what they were. She gasped. Before, all she could see was the faint color clouded by depression. Now, glistening with tears, Lily saw what her son's eyes really were- emerald.
Lily's own eyes started to water at the sight of them. They were hers, there was no mistaking them. The gray ring around the pupils, fading to green, the spotted yellowish-green middle and jade outer circle. Harry's eyes were just like Lily's. Well, they were like Lily's, before her brilliant green eyes became midnight blue.
Lily realized that Harry was about to go to sleep and decided that she should probably get some rest as well. It was going to be hard work, pretending she hated her son.
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So, what did you think? A cookie goes to anyone who can tell me what Lily's owl's name means. Here's a clue: it's a word from a European language that perfectly describes Lily's state of mind.
I'll update soon, I promise!
Enjoy the snow! I know I won't.
LaRohaZeta