AN: In contrast to my usual more cohesive works, this is a few snippets of a plot bunny that would not leave me alone. If you're here for the usual reincarnation fic you can skip chapters 2-3.

Chapter One: It Hurts to Become
Four snippets of the actual reincarnation fic that I've written so far.

Chapter Two: Let Their Windows Open to Air Out the Terror
A covid-inspired angstfic from Lily's perspective during the war.

Chapter Three: On becoming Lily
Twelve moments of who Lily was growing up. Remember that Petunia was shallow, greedy, and spiteful. She and Lily were raised by the same parents. This isn't bashing, it's an exploration of her imperfections, her humanity.

Chapter One: Take Me Instead

Part 1: Harry

Not Harry, please not Harry. Take me instead!

Those were the last words she remembered having spoken. Her last moments on this Earth. And yet—

She blinked open her eyes as her face was molested by some kind of whiskery horsehair rug.

There were voices, but she couldn't properly focus on them. Something pulled her back to sleep again—it had the aftertaste of a sleeping spell.

She woke again to a muffled shriek that reminded her of—

Tunia.

Who was suddenly bigger than Lily was, though that horrified look was exactly right.

Another shriek, and she found herself propped on the kitchen table, watching Tunia's son wave his fists about from his high chair. All the while, a whispered discussion was being held in the living room, and Lily felt her blood simmer at being left out of the loop.

"Well," Tunia said then, returning to reach for Lily with giant hands, lifting her to eye level. "I suppose you'll be living with us now, Harry."

Harry? Harry?

Oh, bloody hell.

She could hear it ringing in her ears. Not Harry, please not Harry, take me instead. There was the sound of glass shattering.

Her Harry—he had been so small, and bright, and—

Dead, gone, murdered

And it was all her fault. Her boy, her everything, he was supposed to have lived.

Suddenly Lily found herself on the floor of a dark cupboard, the door latched shut.

Suddenly Lily found herself trapped in the body of her son.

There was nothing to do but scrunch up her eyes and wail.

.oOo.

Part 2: Freak

Lily knew she had died. That wasn't the part that bothered her, she'd been ready to die. The spell had been dark, dark magic, the kind that even Sirius would have flinched away from. That was why she hadn't told them about it, it would be better for them if they didn't know.

She'd poured over that book for weeks in every spare moment she had. Harry had never minded that what she read to him weren't bedtime stories.

She'd thought she was doing the right thing. She'd been so sure that this was the answer, dark magic or not, and she'd been so, so careful.

Lily watched Tuney bustling about her kitchen. Her nephew was in the high chair next to Lily, while she was being trusted not to kill herself falling off a normal-sized one.

When Harry had been born, Petunia had sent a toy bear and a note. It had made Lily feel so much guiltier about never sending anything when her nephew was born.

"Open up, Diddle-dums," Tuney crooned.

Lily had been so wrapped up in her own life that she didn't even know his name. With fat tears running down her face, she sat and waited for supper.

.oOo.

There was a Harry-shaped hole in her heart that Lily tried very hard not to think about. Severus had tried teaching her occlumency, but it wasn't doing her any good when Petunia kept saying the name.

It was a relief when Vernon started calling her Boy.

There were days where she felt broken. Like her whole world was collapsing and it was just her head above water, sipping the air so she didn't make too many waves.

Meanwhile, Petunia was making her regret that she'd ever been born into their family. She hadn't realised her sister's wounds were so deep she'd take them out on a toddler. Lily watched Petunia heap sweets and attention onto her son, feeling sorry for them both.

It was the epitome of what it meant to be an Evans. Their mam had always taught them to be wary of the people from the wrong side of the tracks, and here she was, a brown baby putting a blemish on their perfect neighbourhood. Petunia hated Lily, the same as Petunia had always hated her. It didn't matter that she still needed diapers and couldn't chew her own food. It didn't matter that she was a quiet baby who didn't cry anywhere near as much as Petunia's son did.

Lily was stuck on a cot in the cupboard under the stairs as if keeping her out of sight could make her go away.

Lily spent her days feeling sorry for herself, and her nights building walls around the Harry-shaped hole in her heart.

.oOo.

Petunia made sure she always had a clean diaper, there wasn't a thing in Number four, Privet Drive that wasn't clean as a whistle. Still, it was mortifying. Lily toilet trained herself and showed she knew how to use a spoon.

"That's unnatural," Vernon whispered to Tuney, eyeing Lily like she might suddenly bite him.

"Lily was a freak, who knows what things are normal for their kind."

"Freak, freak!" Dudders said. His parents started to coo.

Lily took herself back to her cupboard and started to name the spiders.

.oOo.

"Freak," Dudley said, shoving Lily back into her cupboard on his way to the kitchen.

She sighed. It was their first day of primary. It was going to be awful. She'd liked children once, but that had been a lifetime ago.

"A is for Apple, B is for Bear," the woman sing-songed. Lily put her face down on her desk and waited for it to end.

.oOo.

"Harry isn't participating in class," the teacher said, hawk eyes watching her charges return to their respective parents. Petunia didn't even pretend to care.

"Yes, he's always been disturbed. But tell us about our Dudley,"

Lily scuffed her toes into the grass, waiting for them to realize she was right there and could hear every word.

They didn't. She might as well have been wearing James' cloak.

.oOo.

"Harry, dear, you can sing along with us or you can go stand in the naughty corner."

Lily sighed and chose the corner.

"Harry, why don't you read out loud from where Jason left off?"

She shrugged. The teacher knew she hadn't been paying attention.

"Harry, I'm at my wit's end. I know you've had a rough start, but you should be thankful your aunt and uncle took you in."

She blinked up at the woman whose name she hadn't bothered to learn. "I should have died," she said.

The next day at school, she got put in a little room all by herself with a social worker wearing a false smile. "We're very worried about you, Harry," she said.

Lily wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She was so tired. If they'd just let her have naptime forever, with none of the sing-songing, that would be nice.

The day after, Lily waited in the room by herself, wondering if the social worker was running late. Nobody showed up. She thought she might have heard the sound of a car backfiring and for a second she hoped that someone, anyone was coming to rescue her from this existence.

Remus, Sirius, Alice, Frank, even Albus himself. The names stabbed through her, she hadn't dared think them in so long.

Nobody came. Lily found a copy of Bridge to Terabithia and tried to read through her tears. She'd never felt so alone.

When Lily eventually tried going back to her class, her teacher didn't recognize her. Lily marvelled at the audacity of whatever obliviator had been called to wipe all traces of suspicion, and had wiped all traces of her instead. For the rest of the school year, she went to the little reading room by the library. If she was very quiet, she could pretend she didn't even exist.

.oOo.

Part 3: Hogwarts

"Professor McGonagall," she asked, staying behind after class, "That trick you did, turning into a cat, can just anybody do it?"

"No, Mister Potter, learning to be an Animagus takes a great deal of time, perseverance, and talent. It is a very rare ability, and any Animagi must register at the Ministry of Magic. You could request an updated list from the DMLE."

"Yes, but how do I know that, say, Lavender's Kneazle or Ron's pet rat isn't a secret Animagus?"

"Don't be silly, Mister Potter. Now, run along, or you'll be late for your next class."

So much for Plan A.

"Professor Flitwick," she tried, smiling sweetly at her all-time favourite teacher, "Professor McGonagall showed us her Animagus transformation, and I was wondering, is there a charm to identify an Animagus? I mean, how do we know Lavender's Kneazle or Ron's rat aren't secretly something else?" She said it all in one rush, afraid he'd talk her out of it. Because she knew, she knew that it was Wormtail who slept on Ron's pillow every night.

"Well there is a charm that reverts the Animagus back into human form, but that's very advanced. Approach me again once you've completed your OWLs, Mister Potter, and I'll teach it to you."

"But what if someone's pet is really a person, can't we check?"

"You mustn't worry about that. All pets are checked by the house elves when they bring them over from the Hogwarts Express. Now, my dear, was there anything else you wanted to ask about?"

Lily shook her head no. "Thank you, sir," she mumbled, and ran for the nearest bathroom before she could burst into embarrassing tears.

…

Part 4: Jay

It began, as so many things do, in little ways. It crept up on her almost without her notice.

When she had been small, dressed in clothes a bit too baggy and with her hair flopping around her shoulders, she'd been called 'girl' as much as 'boy', and it had been alright. After all, children's bodies were all the same, really.

Maybe she got teased for not wanting to stand to pee, but she was an adult—their childish taunts had meant nothing.

Sometimes, she'd sneak into Tuney's fanciest shoes and stumble about feeling pretty. Once she nicked a tube of lipstick, though she never used it. Just having it made her feel better. More—herself.

But then, the bigger changes started to happen. Puberty hit her like a truck.

A big truck, carrying acne and hair and erections and her body doing all the things it wasn't supposed to be doing.

And she hated it. She hated the way her voice croaked. She hated the way everything felt so, so wrong.

She took to showering and changing in the dark. She found a charm to make her voice more like her own, and less like her son's. She watched everything fall apart in front of her, and at night behind spelled curtains she learned that crying wasn't limited to girls. Not at all.

It was what finally led her to Severus.

"Professor," she approached him, once everyone else had filed from the room, "I really need to talk with you."

"Detention, tonight after dinner," he obliged, sneering half-heartedly.

She thanked him and left.

… …

"I have a story to tell you, and I don't think you'll find it easy to believe, but I'd like you to try and hear me out, please—sir."

Severus nodded, as she knew he would. She began talking, and he listened.

"The Dark Lord offered to spare Lily Potter's life?" Severus asked, finally, once she was finished.

Yes, Severus, way to focus on the important things. "Yes. And my life was spared. Just—not in the way I'd intended."

"Magic and Fate have a way of twisting things," Severus said with Dumbledorish wisdom. Lily thought it...out of character.

"You're handling this rather well," she hedged.

"Indeed," Severus said. "It is simultaneously the most outlandish and the most plausible explanation so far. You cannot honestly think it would have gone unnoticed, how you continuously fail to act eleven? Or twelve? Or thirteen?"

Lily was a bit miffed at that, because yes, she had thought she'd actually been doing a pretty good job of blending in. But Severus had always had a way of seeing through her, she supposed.

This wasn't the worst way their conversation could have gone.

"Alright, so, what do we do now?"

"I will brew you a potion to delay further onset of puberty, though you will need to speak with Madam Pomfrey before she will administer it. As for the rest, that depends very much upon you."

"Oh."

She hadn't realised it would be quite so simple. She wasn't sure why it had taken so long for her to act, at all.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to meet her own eyes.

And yet, looking now, it was as if-

It wasn't herself she recognised there. Lily had been lost to her long ago. But this, her, it didn't feel so foreign any more.

With a start, she realised she didn't hate her body. It was an unfamiliar feeling reflected back at her in her those green, green eyes.

Acceptance, she realised.

This wasn't her, but it was the closest to who she wanted to be that she'd come in a long, long time.

Nothing had changed, not really. This body was too soft and too hard, too foreign and too achingly familiar all at the same time.

But it felt different.

She wasn't looking at a stranger any more. Perhaps it was time to get to know who she was.

Learn about the kind of person she was becoming.

Jay Potter, she acknowledged herself. It's nice to finally meet you.