A/N: I'm just gonna thank roon0 (hope you enjoy!), buterflypuss, James Birdsong, and Mando-Vet (here you go! Lol) for the reviews. This is the final installment, technically. And that's all I really have to say about it, so I'll just let you get to the chapter

Chapter 16:

"When I looked into it …before I came here? I saw my parents, standing on either side of me. That's when I—" Harry made a half-hearted, flourishing motion with his hand. "When I look in it now …I don't see anything."

"Alright," James said reassuringly. He rocked onto his back and settled in. Lily stared at him, speechless. Could nothing ever deflate him? "That's alright, Harry. Let's go over this slowly. What are you supposed to see?"

Lily suspected that Harry normally would have made a heavily sarcastic remark. Instead, he said blankly. "My parents."

"I think James means," Lily interjected softly, "what does the mirror show anyone when they look at it?"

"Well I've told you that, too." Harry protested. "According to Dumbledore, it shows the deepest desire of our hearts."

"Right, well we have to say these things aloud to work it out," James responded patiently. "So what that means is one of two things."

"The mirror is broken—" Lily lifted a finger.

"—or your heart's desire has changed." James sat up and leaned on his palms, fixing Harry with a look. "I'd wager that dear old Mairead would know whether the thing was broken. So then…"

"Then I'm the problem." Harry threw up his hands and got to his feet. "But that's just it, I don't know what I'm even supposed to be seeing! If I see you two again, then that won't bring me back to my own time. I wish Hermione were here..."

"Hermione?" This was the first time Lily had heard Harry express desire for anyone from his own time. "A friend?"

Harry's expression scrunched up, so it was either inaccurate or he would rather not call her that. "She's the brightest witch in my year, and she'd probably figure this out."

"Sounds fit." James winked blatantly at Lily. "Brains are fit, little bloke—"

"—you're talking about an eleven-year old," Lily said dryly.

"No, I'm talking about you, love." He smirked and then bent back to look at Harry. "But we don't need this Hermione, 'cause we've got each other and we're all brilliant in our own right."

It was hard to be pessimistic around James, but Lily did harbor reservations about giving Harry too much hope. Of course, that was supposing he had any at all…

"Hold on…"

James pointed a hand at Lily and raised his eyebrows at the younger boy. "See?"

"If you aren't seeing anything—or you're only seeing yourself …then you don't desire anything."

James frowned. "Which would make sense, come to think of it, because he's got his heart's desire, hasn't he? He saw us, and here we are."

"This isn't what I wanted," Harry disagreed. It wasn't harshly delivered, just matter-of-fact. "I mean to say, I wanted …well, my parents. And you're…"

"Still minding ourselves over the House Cup and preparing for the N.E.W.T.s?" James said.

They had questioned the 'why now' of Harry's appearance before, but the mystery seemed inexplicable at the time. Now, Lily was beginning to think that the answering the conundrum of why Harry came back when they were too young to be of any real use to him would have to be answered, at least in part…

Nothing significant happened this year—or nothing that could explain Harry's presence on its face… She cast a look at James, acknowledging that she had begun to fancy him now …but that was a direct result of Harry being thrown into this time.

"It could have been proximity," Lily posited. "You and I were by the Quidditch pitch at the same time, alone, and that's when we found Harry."

"Lily, we have class together. We're in the same House." James sounded exasperated at this line of logic. "We are in proximity constantly."

"Not alone, though." Lily pointed out. Up until very recently, she hated to find herself without reinforcement around James and he was rarely without his three friends. But James didn't find that convincing either, shaking his head.

"We're getting far afield with this," he said. "I don't think we should focus on what happened when Harry went through the mirror, but why he doesn't have a heart's desire. He said himself that this wasn't even what he wanted. And it's mad to think that an eleven-year old doesn't…"

James trailed off and his eyes riveted to Harry, frown of concern deepening. "You said you 'don't see anything' in the mirror. Are you seeing yourself like a regular mirror …or are you literally not seeing anything?"

Lily hadn't caught that at all, and as it dawned on her that James was right, she was horrified when Harry let a long silence carry on after the question. In another life, she could imagine that her son might look like this when he accidentally broke a window, or snuck out with his father's Invisibility Cloak and stood before them chastened. He hadn't done anything wrong, but his expression was shamed. It occurred to her that Harry had wanted them to be misdirected before. But James had figured it out, and Harry had run out of vaguer options.

"I don't see myself anymore," he admitted. "It's just …black."

He lifted his head and looked between them, and there was something so terribly expectant in his eyes. It scared her, because she didn't have any idea what he wanted them to say or what they should say…

Then the mirror was doing its job; it wasn't behaving like a normal mirror. And James was right, it was Harry's desire that was the problem. Black …blackness.

"How could that be?" James said quietly. His face was drawn again, like he suspected why it might be, but wouldn't dare say. Lily's mind began to race.

Non-existence. Nothing.

What kind of person would look into the mirror and see no trace of their existence?

Someone who didn't want to live…

She edged closer to Harry without thought, because she wanted, more than anything, to know what was inside his head. And if they knew that, maybe they could fix this, there had to be some way to—

"I dunno," Harry answered, but it sounded more like it was a lack of an answer rather than a genuine one. And he shifted slightly, sensing Lily's growing nearness without looking at her. She could see his discomfort, but she didn't care at the moment.

"It's that bad?" she asked, and the fear lodged in her throat. "You don't even …Harry, you have to tell us what-what is going on—"

"You already know everything," Harry answered with a trace of petulance. "I'm telling you just what I saw."

"But what do you feel about it?" James picked up the trail easily, now sitting alert. "I asked you before. You didn't answer—"

"I did answer!" Harry replied hotly.

"No, your mother did!"

The word "mother" should have pierced Lily, but instead she was coming to a new answer and it was absorbing all thought. Whatever was in Harry's mind, he didn't want to tell them. Perhaps he couldn't even articulate it. But Lily found her feet and both boys looked up and fell silent.

"Where're you going?" James asked, but it was evident as she walked further into the room.

The mirror stood there, more ornate the closer you got. "James." Slowly, she dared to touch one edge. "We never even thought about what we'd see if we looked. We were so worried about Harry." She turned her head back a little, at the two of them—brilliant copies of one man she could love and a boy she'd only be given a year's chance to do the same. She stepped directly into the mirror's path. "I know what I'll see…"

Ultimately, she had no idea what her heart's desire would have been on any other day, but she knew what it was now. There was irrevocable certainty in her mind about what it would show her today. Because all she wanted today …was to know her son's pain.

Glimpses of a life that she wouldn't be part of flashed in the reflective surface, but not truly his life; just what burned inside of him. A boy screaming in the dark, a boy in so much agony that he said he didn't care; he didn't want to be human! Destroying everything in his rage, for what he lost, wanting death. But throughout the threads of this was also the knowledge that Harry would survive. He would cope.

And yet, she found that that wasn't enough. He knelt by her knees and screamed a terrible scream, older, younger, it didn't matter. And she realized what Harry neededfrom her (from his mother) was a promise that she wouldn't go and leave him alone in this world.

How could she promise that?

And how could she not?

She had seen enough, and she looked back at them both again. James watched her like James always did, but more intensely. Harry didn't look at her. Maybe he suspected what she had done. Maybe he was afraid of what came next.

And just like that, this was the decision. It wasn't about the world. It wasn't about time or honor or sacrifice; it was about the boy who she brought (would bring) into the world. It was about the choice to protect him and the choice to fight for him, or to go quietly into the night. And if Voldemort's wand had been pointing at her, promising death, she couldn't have made any other choice.

Lily gasped and with that, realized that she hadn't drawn a single breath while she watched Harry in the Mirror of Erised. She walked toward him and knelt, taking his hand reverently.

"Harry," his eyes caught her face only briefly, like she was the sun and it hurt. She nodded at this, readying to take the leap. He wanted to believe in her. "I know what we need to do."

Though he was too old to be her child now, he was so, so young. "We're going to change it."

"How?" Harry said quickly, because he was young enough to believe her and old enough to ask 'why'. "If I go back, then you probably won't remember me. Even Professor Dumbledore—"

"Professor Dumbledore," Lily got ahead of him, because she expected this refutation, "said before we left: this is our journey. He has faith that we will make the right decision. And I'm making it right now."

It must have been that she had finally convinced him, because Harry blinked and his cheeks pinked like he was holding something back—a wild dream he didn't dare hope. But he was hoping. It hadn't been enough for him that James believed, no matter how infectious his enthusiasm and charisma could be. It had to be her.

Speaking of her future husband, he had been awfully quiet during this exchange. Lily craned her head sideways in his direction, "well wh—!"

Had a strong, supportive arm not wrapped itself around her waist and reeled her inward, she would have been bowled over by the force of James' embrace, his lips colliding on hers like it was his last day on Earth. Her eyes flew open in surprise and all she saw were closed eyes and long lashes behind his glasses and the fringes of his impossible hair. His devotion …his joy closed in on her from all sides and she could do nothing but let it surround her and fall into it too.

She chose Harry. And she chose James, too. Her hands framed his face, the immovable object against his unstoppable force. His lips stopped moving against hers and their faces just rested against each other's. She could feel his smile and she scraped his cheeks lightly, laughing as she pulled back. His arm didn't loosen when she pushed at his chest and he was grinning like a fool.

"Sorry." He said breathlessly on her face. "You shouldn't go talking like that. You've no idea what you do to me…"

She should have blushed, but her comfort around James had increased astronomically and there was no need anymore. Her arms crept around his neck, practically sitting in his lap. Harry was looking away from the scene, and his face was red with embarrassment, but Lily couldn't help but notice the smile he was trying to hide. Still, she broke away, clearing her throat meaningfully and ignoring the way James watched her.

"Since I take that to mean we're all in agreement," Lily said, straightening her skirt. "We need to talk about what we can do to change it. Which means that Harry is going to have to tell us everything he can about what happened. There's bound to be some sort of clue."

"Er…" Harry was still recovering from the sight of his parents snogging. The happiness and relief of the prior moment was dropping into what must have been a painful memory, if a memory at all… "Hagrid—he's the groundskeeper at Hogwarts now—he told me about it some. All I remembered is a green light," he admitted.

James stiffened and Lily knew why. The Killing Curse emitted a green light when cast. They (or one of them) must have been murdered right in front of their year-old son.

"Hagrid said that …Voldemort came to our home one night. And he killed you both, but then …something about me stopped him. When he tried to kill me, he died instead."

"Why? Did anybody tell you why?!" James asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know if anyone knows what happened, except that he failed."

It was such a strange story, but Lily was wary of getting bogged down in things that wouldn't help them figure this out. "Did anyone say why he came to our house in the first place?"

"Yeah, that seems personal," James agreed. "Thinking on it …maybe we didn't know he was after us? I mean, I think this could all be pretty easily solved with a Secret Keeper."

"…what's that?"

"A Secret Keeper is someone who holds information for you. If we had gone somewhere, into hiding, then the Secret Keeper would be the only person that could reveal it and we'd be safe, as long as that person was loyal." James nodded pensively. "Not even Lord Voldemort could find us."

"If we could just …buy some time," Lily agreed. "If we changed that one night…"

"You really think so?" Harry looked between them, trying to go to the same place they were. "Just that one thing?"

"I dunno, but it definitely improves our chances considerably," James swore.

"And what if you don't remember?"

They fell silent, briefly. And then James' eyes lit challengingly. "What if you can't get back over, little bloke?"

Harry paused and looked at his teenaged father uncomprehendingly, who sighed in return. "I'm saying that you've got to have faith. You're here. We're here. Let's just make something of it. Getting Mrs. Potter here to clue-in was the tough part—ow!" James made a show of rubbing his side. "As I was saying, your mother's been runnin' from fate since her first year. If she's stopped, then you know it's about to happen."

"While he said that in the most irritating way possible, essentially he's right." Lily nudged her chin toward the mirror. "And if you still don't think so, then look now…"

Harry jumped to his feet, but James warded him off with a hand.

"Hang on! If he's gonna look, we need to be straight about what he'll see. That thing brought him through his time to us, if it goes wrong, it could be a bigger blunder than it's worth."

"I have to want to go back," Harry asserted, feeling as if they were patronizing him. "I know that!"

"It's more than wanting it," Lily put in. "It has to be the thing that you want most in this world…"

She was sure that the promises and plans they had made here were enough that Harry had the hope to not envision blackness in the mirror. But what he would see to get back across the way was far more complicated than that.

The boy's brow furrowed and she saw the hesitation trip across his face. He glanced at the mirror. He felt the power of that mirror more than any of them there, and it made him falter now.

"Everything …could just be the same," he said finally. "If I go back, and everyone is still gone…"

He wouldn't want to go back. Lily understood. If it had been her, she wasn't sure that she could go back either.

"Is that really all you've learned?" James asked in a subdued tone, but his eyes were glittering. "I dunno, mate, but I don't think that many blokes could have looked in the mirror and done what you've done. You got here. I believe, for a reason. But you'll have to do it again for anything to work! And it's on you, this time. You'll have to trust us to take care of the rest."

"It's not trust!" Harry exclaimed. "If that was all it's about…"

He was saying all the things that Lily had been saying before, and she felt terrible about it. But perhaps, because of that, she could break through to him.

"There has to be a reason!" Lily told him.

"But you said—"

"I know! But I looked in the mirror and now I know that I was wrong!" The broken child, the angry and triumphant child would not be the same when and if he crossed that glass barrier. Seeing his parents had given and taken something from him, and if it couldn't be changed, then it was all hopelessly pointless. And she didn't believe that. Her hands grasped his smooth cheeks and for the first time, she really was her son. He felt it too.

She leaned in a pressed a ferocious, loving kiss to his forehead. He stiffened in surprise and when she hung on, she felt him go boneless under the tender affection that he had never had. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Go do this now," she whispered. "We'll get you back. I promise."

She pulled away from him and he blinked blearily towards James, itching to do it now, but words failing him on this rushed goodbye. James, for his part, smirked and shook his head.

"I'm not saying good-bye, little bloke. I'll see you on the other side."

And Harry, the better mixture of them, was not bowed by the challenge. Instead, he got to his feet and walked straight toward the mirror, stopping just before he got too close to turn back. He must have thought for a moment, of how it was done before and how he could get back, but Lily was sure that his answer would be near-instinctive.

He gave them one last look, but the longing was no longer there. It was a willful hope. And above all, it was the belief that an eleven-year old would have had in his parents. And then he gazed back into the mirror and Lily suspended her breath.

She could have sworn she saw her son's reflection wink at them in that moment, but then there was a brilliant light and she knew nothing anymore.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

When the last remnants of light had faded into the mirror, the world snapped back, and Lily and James were once again on the Quidditch pitch—him far above, and her below. No little boy dropped between them, but the air did catch a moment, and Lily looked up to see only James. But she continued to walk, and he hovered in one place to watch her do it. They don't remember.

But the next time he asks her out is the first time she tells him "yes".

But there's no echo of that twisted time, just the same slow trod down that worn path. Voldemort rose to power. They marry, they have a son. Lily smiles underneath Harry's grasping infant hands while Sirius stands off with her husband.

"Prongs …you heard about the McKinnons." The handsome man gritted his teeth. "He knew where to look from the very beginning, and look where it led." James' eyes were grim and Lily made shushing noises that were presumably for the baby's benefit. "I've been thinking about this a lot."

"What's your idea?" James asked fairly, straightening. It had been discussed with the Order and it was the best they could come up with, but he never turned down Padfoot's plans on the off-chance that it would lead to a brilliant result.

"Use Pete instead."

Lily's head shot up and away from his godson's seeking fingers. James' brow furrowed in protest, but Sirius held up a hand. "Where would Voldemort never think to look?!"

"Then Moony—"

"No!" Sirius lowered his voice immediately when Harry whimpered in response, taking on a calmer tone. "You know how much he has taken on right now. And he'd be the next suspected Secret Keeper. I'm telling you. Pick Wormtail, mate."

James took in a breath, but his mouth pressed into a thin line, the way it did when he was conceded something. But he has no chance to make the concession.

"No."

Even Harry has stopped his wriggling to tilt his head and watch his mother, identifying the harshness of her tone. Lily's green eyes are only on Sirius. "No. It's you. It has to be you."

Sirius blinks and stops. And then he starts. "Why?" He's curious.

Lily can't explain. But she recalls things that never happened.

"Even if you aren't willing …to fight for yourself? I will."

"You can trust me. James is my family."

"Trust your instincts."

Sirius is the voice she hears. And it could be nothing more than an imagining, but she won't be moved.

"If it isn't you, then I won't go." Lily said, her voice trembling but all the stronger for it. "I'll refuse."

With his wife's insistence, James won't be moved either. They are willing to risk everything. Sirius argues for longer than he has the energy, because he's arrogant and rogue enough to insist on his last-second plan, but he ends up stunned by their joint resolve. And Sirius, flattered, knows that he will not betray them, so he agrees with a "bloody hell, Prongs, I'm not fighting you both. You know I'll do it."

Lily squishes Harry against him when she throws one arm around his neck and tearfully thanks him. His throat closes up in that moment, but he cups his godson's dark head and closes his eyes.

It takes years, but Sirius dies for it. Lily and James live for it. And their second son bears his name in their war-torn world.

A/N: Aaanndd that's where we end this journey. Things change, but everything comes at a cost. I might possibly put an epilogue in, I'm not sure. But for whoever stuck around over the years, thank you! The ending is for you, and I do consider it a happy ending, though some of you might not agree ;). Again, thank you for sharing in the ride!