December 26, 1992

Callie awoke the day after Christmas to Minerva shaking her shoulder. She groaned and stretched and looked up at her niece. Big, hazel eyes peered down at her.

"Aunt Callie, Uncle Sirius wants you downstairs! He says it's important."

Callie groaned again and closed her eyes. She rolled over and pulled the blanket up to her nose. "You can tell your godfather that he is not ambushing me with snowballs this early in the morning unless he wants to be hexed into the next century."

Little feet scampered out of the room. She sighed deeply and settled deeper into the mattress on the floor. She breathed slowly, inhaling the familiar scents of her brother's house, her sister-in-law's cooking, her niece's room, and her boyfriend' leather jacket she hadn't given back.

Her eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake. Merlin's pants, was Sirius her boyfriend? How had that never occurred to her before? She wasn't terribly sure she loved that title on him. It seemed too… informal? No. Unnatural? Closer.

She wasn't sure what it seemed, but she didn't feel completely comfortable with it.

Heavier footsteps climbed the stairs and entered the room. She rolled her eyes and pretended to be asleep. If it was James, he'd be obnoxious, if it was Remus, he'd let her sleep, and if it was Sirius…

Something wet slid up her face. She shrieked in surprise. A massive, black dog stood over her. She could swear he was grinning.

Callie glared at him. "Sirius, I swear to Merlin-"

He stood right on her stomach and lapped at her face. Her hands flew up to protect herself from his attacks.

"Sirius!" It came out as more of a laugh than a shout of anger. Before she knew it, she was laughing so hard she couldn't stop. With a final, furious push, she managed to knock him off of her and sit up.

He crouched, tail wagging, and barked before sitting down. She rolled her eyes, wiping her face and catching her breath, before standing up. Sirius changed back into a man and grinned at her, cross-legged on the floor. She shot him a glare and punched his shoulder. He dramatically feigned a broken arm.

"You better not have done that because you're bored," Callie said.

Sirius grinned innocently. "Of course I didn't!"

She was less than convinced. She walked down the hall to the bathroom to wash her face. Sirius followed her, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she put her hair up and turned on the tap.

He'd sent word to the Auror Office that morning, telling them his suspicions about the whereabouts of Voldemort. Wilde had written him back around dawn, letting him know the office was planning a raid on the Malfoy Manor scheduled for the very next evening. They couldn't risk Voldemort disappearing again.

"I know where he is," he said into the domestic silence between them.

Callie looked up, water dripping from her face. "What?"

"You-Know-Who. I know where he is."

She reached for a towel and dried her face off before looking at him like he'd discovered the secrets of the universe – amazed, relieved, and afraid all at once. "What? Where?"

"Malfoy Manor."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "But he's already used it. And I thought it burned down."

"Despite your best efforts," he smirked, "only a few rooms were lost. We've already checked it, of course, but I've heard rumors of secret tunnels under the house. He could have hidden anything down there – even himself.

It made sense, she had to admit. And there was Draco to consider; it seemed unusual for a spoiled child not to be allowed home for Christmas. "Oh, Merlin," she muttered. "You're right. Are you going after him? The Auror Office, I mean."

"No." He stepped forward and smiled. "We are going him."

"That's sweet, Sirius, but I'm not an Auror anymore."

"Come on, this is a special occasion. And I thought the Minister said you can come back whenever you like." He paused, smile fading. "Besides… there's something we want to talk to you about. What's your birthday?"

"My birthday? It's July 30, 1965, the day before Harry's. Why?"

He hesitated. "Nothing. Look, come downstairs. We need to talk."

She sensed the worry in his voice. "Alright, sure." He nodded and rejoined the other at the kitchen table, leaving her to change.

"Is she coming?" James asked as Sirius walked back into the kitchen.

"Yeah, she's on her way." He swung a chair around and straddled it, leaning on the back.

"Are you sure about this?" Remus asked. "I mean really sure?"

"I'm not sure about any of this! But it makes more sense than the plan we've been operating under."

"I don't like it," Lily said. "I'd just like to go on record and say: I don't like it."

"Mum, what's going on?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, dearest; go play with your sister."

Harry knew enough about his mother to obey the first time. He scampered off, meeting Callie half-way up. She walked in the kitchen. Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at her, and none of them looked terribly happy.

"What happened?" she asked nervously. A scenario occurred to her, and she glared at Sirius. "You didn't tell them without me, did you? We were going to do it together."

Sirius held up his hands. "No, love, I swear I didn't tell them that."

James furrowed his brow. "Merlin's pants, what's happened now? Something at Hogwarts?"

Lily looked from one to the other. They were behaving awfully strangely all Christmas break. Almost as if… "No!" She laughed. "Really? Oh, you've just made my Christmas. That's-"

"Lily!" Callie snapped.

Remus kicked her under the table.

She stopped, glanced at James, and pinched her lips together to stop her smile. "Oh. Right."

"What? What am I missing?" James asked.

"The plan!" Sirius said loudly. "We need to discuss the plan."

"Right. The plan," Lily agreed. "Right away."

Callie sighed, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, and got herself a cup of tea. She took the empty seat next to Sirius. "You're all starting to freak me out. What's going on?"

They looked at each other uncomfortably for several moments. When no one else spoke, James cleared his throat. "Well, Callie, you see…" He trailed off uselessly.

Callie's face slowly heated up under the intense and uncomfortable stares from her family. Remus left the table and returned with a rolled-up piece of parchment. He handed it to her and sat back down. She glanced around the table again. Lily busied herself picking at the threads of her jumper. James turned a Golden Snitch between his fingers. Remus stared down at his lap. But Sirius watched her intently.

She uncurled the parchment and read aloud. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" She looked up. "It's the prophesy about Harry."

"Not necessarily," Sirius said. "There was another child who could fit the bill. Neville Longbottom."

"But he was killed when his parents were tortured," Remus continued.

"Leaving us with Harry," Callie finished. "What's your point?"

They all glanced around the table again.

"You were born as the seventh month died," Remus offered.

"Yes, but I was in my Fourth Year at Hogwarts when the prophesy was made. I wasn't approaching anything. And besides that, it refers to the person as 'he,' and I'm obviously not male."

Sirius chuckled. "Thank Merlin for that. That would make all kinds of things really-"

Callie kicked him under the table to shut him up.

"Prophesies are vastly unpredictable," Remus said. "They're about the future; what's more unpredictable than that? And the pronoun 'he' could easily be gender neutral. I've read of several prophesies like this one that included a 'he,' but the person it referred to ended up being a woman."

"And as for the thrice defy business," James put in, "Dad and Mum were asked to join Voldy's side three times, and every time they turned him down."

Callie was beginning to see that this wasn't a joke. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "But I haven't been marked as the Dark Lord's equal by anyone, least of all him!"

"Actually… you have." She looked at Sirius anxiously. "In Reg's letters, he said You-Know-Who has been talking about you. Specifically, that he's had it out for you since you nearly killed him with dark magic. Powerful dark magic. And you've been destroying his soul piece by piece. He's afraid of you."

"But I don't have any powers he doesn't know about!"

"Actually… you did." James looked at her. "Your Fifth Year at Hogwarts, McGonagall sent me an owl asking about you. She said you've got a talent for the Dark Arts."

The color drained from her face. She swallowed hard. "I've never used dark magic except in dire circumstances."

"We're not accusing you of anything," Remus assured. "We're simply suggesting we at least explore this idea, because you do seem to fit."

"What about that rubbish about neither of us living while the other survives? We've both been living!"

"He hasn't," James pointed out. "You've been killing off bits of his soul, remember? Hell, he went into hiding to get away from you!"

"Remember that summer in our third year?" Sirius asked. "When you were afraid of that snake in the back yard, and transfigured a stick into a hatchet to kill it with? We were all so bloody impressed you'd preformed a complex transfiguration without a wand, we didn't stop to realize you'd cut the snake's head clean off."

Her panic rose like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her completely. Her throat clenched and she found it hard to breathe. Her face was void of color. "I was a child! I was afraid! I yelled for you lot, but you were too busy playing Quidditch-"

"Callie, no one is accusing you of being a Death Eater or anything like that. We're just saying that you have immense power that You-Know-Who wasn't aware of until you killed a Horcrux in front of him and nearly killed him with a dark spell," Remus said, trying to soothe her.

James looked at her reassuringly. "We don't think you're evil."

"Absolutely not," Sirius affirmed. "Just powerful enough to scare the Dark Lord witless."

Callie's heart beat wildly and she clenched her hands in her lap. Could the prophesy be referring to her? Could she be the one to defeat Lord Voldemort? Her stomach churned. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.

"When did you decide to become an Auror?" James asked.

"Fourth Year," Callie choked, voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius and James exchanged a glance.

Callie realized Lily hadn't said anything. She looked up and found her friend's green eyes already examining her. "Lily," she said quietly. "You haven't said anything."

Lily was quiet for a long minute. "Selfishly… I'm glad there's a chance my son doesn't have to carry this burden, after all. And I hate myself for even thinking that, because I hate seeing you carry it, either." She paused, drawing a deep breath. "If it were me… I'd be terrified. I really don't know what to say other than that."

The friends around the table sank into a deep silence. Sirius saw through his own excitement at having possibly solved a great riddle long enough to see the abject terror in Callie's eyes. And just like that, he wasn't so sure he was right. He reached under the table to take her hand, offering some comfort. She pulled her hand away when he touched her.

Deep down, in the very depths of her mind, Callie had always wondered if it could be her. Born as the seventh month dies… But she'd dismissed the idea. And she realized now she'd dismissed it out of cowardice. She'd rather see her own nephew with the weight of the world on his shoulders than carry it herself. Poisonous self-hatred settled in the pit of her stomach. How could she be so selfish?

"If it is me," she said, voice trembling, "how will we know for sure?"

"Well," Remus answered slowly, "the prophesy seems to imply that either you or You-Know-Who will have to kill the other. We'll know after the battle."

Unbidden, Voldemort's words echoed through her head. "…the voice of Slytherin pulls you to the darkness…"

"And if I fail?"

"You won't," Sirius said. His eyes and voice betrayed nothing but confidence. "You're stronger than him." He nudged her leg with his knee and gave her a grin. "And you won't be alone."

"We'll all back you up, if you just say the word," James promised.

That wasn't what she meant. She didn't mean sheer magical ability. She meant willpower. She sat in silence for a moment longer, trying to connect the fraying edges of a tapestry of thought. It was all so overwhelming. She thought she was going to be sick.

Callie stood so suddenly her chair nearly overturned. "I'd like to think it over." She walked around the table and out the back door before they could stop her.

She didn't know where she was going. The December wind bit into her skin, cutting straight to the bone. She walked, snow soaking through her slippers. Her feet carried her around the house, through the little gate, and down the street of Godric's Hollow. The sun shone bright from behind the clouds, casting a grey light over the small town. She didn't consciously tell her feet to move and had no indication of where they took her.

Red eyes stared out of a pale face, boring into her mind. A snake curled and twisted between her legs. A flood of memories struck her. Ever terrible line of the prophesy fell into place. Caging her like walls of solid steel. Forming a maze out of fate, guiding her toward the inevitable, unavoidable end.

She heard and saw a million things, was in a million places at once.

"That was terrific magic!" James said, beaming all over his thirteen-year-old face. "McGonagall will be so happy to have such a skilled witch in her house!"

The body of the snake stopped writhing, oozing blood into the grass.

Hazel eyes darkened in confusion, the pride of a moment before stolen as the Sorting Hat cried, "Slytherin!" They followed her as she trudged from the stool, legs heavy as stone, to the table covered in green and silver. She took a seat and stared at her brother across the hall, at another table. It felt wrong. She watched as his eyes softened and he smiled at her before his attention was drawn away by the redheaded girl a few seats down.

"Your family's in Gryffindor?" The student was astonished, eyes wide at the scandal. "Then they must be anti-Dark Lord! How can you stand it?"

"Well, actually… I agree with them."

She quickly realized her mistake. This child was intimately acquainted with Voldemort's followers. Her First Year became a living hell.

A blow landed on her cheek, knocking her down. Tears spilled form her eyes, choking her, blinding her. She sobbed loudly. Another blow fell.

"Oi!"

She looked up. A short Seventh-Year boy sporting Gryffindor red ran over, wand drawn. "What the hell do you think you're playing at!?"

The Second Year Slytherin quickly backed up. "I was just having a bit of fun!"

A hex flew from the Gryffindor's wand. A sardine slid out of the Slytherin's nose, causing him to run the other direction, screaming obscenities. The Gryffindor gently picked Callie up and set her on her feet. He saw her tears and used his own tie to dry them with.

"Hey, Callie, it's okay," he said softly. "I'll teach you that hex so you can use it next time."

She smiled through her tears. Her cheek and arm still stung. "Th-thanks, Peter," she got out.

"Don't mention it." He smiled reassuringly. "You look pretty cool all roughed-up, but you should check with Pomfrey. I'll walk you."

"Hey, Pete, what's the hold-up?" Two more Gryffindors joined the tiny gathering. Silver eyes landed on Callie. Sirius swore.

"She was being bullied," Peter explained.

Sirius' face broke into a predatory grin. "Was she, now? Did you hear that, Moony?"

"Yes, I did," Remus replied gravely.

"Shame Prongs is off on a date. Guess we'll have to step in." He knelt down so he and Callie were eye-level. "Don't worry about it, yeah? We'll take care of everything." He straightened and ruffled her hair, pulling his wand out with his other hand.

Remus handed his book to Peter and followed Sirius, heading toward the dungeons.

No one was brave enough to pick on her for the rest of the year after the Marauders' wrath.

The Astronomy Tower floor rang with sobs. They were gone. They were her parents and they were her strength and they were gone. Dead. She would never see them again.

She was completely alone.

"Your skills are in Charms, Miss Potter," Slughorn said. "And there's a war on. Why on earth would you want to be an Auror?"

She thought of her brother and his wife and his friends. She thought of her own friends. She thought of the danger all of them were in, the number of graves dug every day.

"This is our fault," she said. "You-Know-Who came from this house. I want to redeem us, Professor."

"Miss Potter, you show promising marks," her training instructor said, glancing over her papers. "O's in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Muggle Studies. Not to mention your connections with the infamous Order of the Phoenix. But this is all preliminary, of course. Show me what you can do."

He lifted his wand and saluted her. The duel didn't last long.

The harsh voice of a crow shook her from her thoughts. Just like that, Callie was back in the present. She looked around vaguely. She was in a church yard. A simple tombstone sat in front of her, bearing the name 'Peter Pettigrew.'

Tears leaked from her eyes and fell onto the snow. Peter. Peter's tombstone. Physical proof that he was dead, gone forever.

A few yards away stood a tall, granite stone. She walked over to it, feet leaving a trench in the snow. 'Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.'

She was undone. Her knees gave out and she fell into the snow. She pressed a stiff hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle her sobs. Her other hand pressed against the marker between her parents' names. The stone beneath her fingers was unrelenting, unmoving, resting above her parents' bodies six feet below.

She wondered if her strength and courage had been buried along with them, under the frozen earth.

If only they hadn't died. If only these past years without them had been some dreadful game of hide-and-seek, and she might find them behind the next tree. If only Peter could rise out of the snow and smile and hug her and tell her it was all a joke. That Voldemort wasn't real. That death wasn't real.

But he was. And it was. And there she knelt, powerless in the snow.

She didn't have the strength to look around when she felt something warm and heavy fall across her shoulders. She didn't even open her eyes when an arm wrapped around her and pulled her against a warm, living body. Her tears weren't stanched when a hand was pressed against her head, holding her securely.

Could she do this? Could she really defeat the greatest dark wizards in the world? Could she even be trusted to attempt it? It all felt so futile. Even if she did kill him, even if she did put an end to all of this, it wouldn't stop people from dying. Her own parents had been taken by illness, not the Dark Arts.

"Everyone dies sometime…"

She felt like every life in the Wizarding world was on her shoulders, but the truth was, they weren't. They would all die, no matter what she did. All she was doing was buying them a little more time.

Callie didn't know how long she sat in the snow, tears streaming down her face. When she finally cried herself out, the sun had come behind the clouds and shadows stretched on into late afternoon. She felt the cold seeping up from her soaked pants. She looked up. Hazel eyes, calm as the sky above them, looked down at her.

James didn't say anything. He didn't really have to. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and helped her stand. His arm never left her, staying firmly across her shoulders as they walked back to the Potters' house.

Lily crowded them the moment they walked through the door. She grabbed a blanket and had hot cocoa pressed into Callie's hands before she could blink. Callie barely felt it. She was numb to almost every sensation.

"Use the guest room," Lily told James. "She should have some privacy in there."

James walked Callie up the stairs and through the door to the right, closing it softly behind them. Callie sat on the side of the bed. James knelt in front of her.

"Callie," he whispered softly, "please talk to me."

She didn't speak. The door squeaked open behind them and James glanced back to see Sirius.

"Lily's asking for you," he said quietly. "I've got her."

James hesitated for a moment. He gave Callie a gentle squeeze and stood. His hand closed for a second on Sirius' shoulder on the way out.

Sirius closed the door softly and sat next to her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her gently into his side.

"I know this is a lot," he whispered. He let the silence stretch on for as long as she needed, trusting she would speak when she was ready.

"I… I can't do this, Sirius," she said at last, voice deadened.

"Do what, Love? Face him?"

She shook her head. "It's not just that. Everything just seems so… pointless. I mean… even if I beat him, everyone still dies. I'm just buying them a little time. Everyone I'd be saving will still die eventually, no matter what I do!"

Sirius stopped. He was dead silent for a moment, scrutinizing her. "That's not why we're doing this," he insisted. "We're not doing this to save heartbeats and brainwaves; we're doing this to save lives."

"What's the difference?" Callie asked hopelessly.

Sirius moved in front of her and knelt on the floor so he could see her. He lifted a hand to her chin and raised her head so their eyes met. "Lives aren't made of nerve endings and organs. We're not robots. Lives are made of moments, memories. Think of Peter! With a little more time, he may have gotten married, had a few kids. It wasn't his heartbeat that was stolen from him. It was more than that. It was his laughter, his joys, his fears. The lives of the children he might have had. The moments he would have had. The things he wanted to do."

She thought about Peter. She thought about how his eyes would light up when he talked about that Muggle girl, how he would never say her name because he considered it a sacred secret. She thought about all of the places he wanted to take her, the things he wanted to do with her. Those dreams had ended with his final breath. They'd been taken from him.

"Death isn't a tragedy," Sirius whispered. "The real tragedy is a life that's never been lived, dreams that were never realized. That's what we're fighting for. Dreams. Moments. Stories." He reached up and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. She looked down at him, meeting his eyes. "Life isn't biology. It can't be measured. It can't be contained. It can't be classified. It isn't a mystery to solve or a puzzle to put together." He smiled softly, and the room around them faded. "It's something to be experienced, treasured." His hands clasped hers. "It's something to take in your hands and never let go of. Because as much as it hurts… it's worth it. Because life is beautiful. And sometimes, it takes someone trying to steal it from you to make you realize how much you treasure it."

His eyes bored into hers and she bit back a sob. He was right. Of course he was. Life was an ugly mess. It was pain and heartbreak and sickness. But it was also beauty, and pleasure, and wonder. It was love and adventure. It was going full steam ahead and never looking back.

It struck her almost painfully that she'd never really looked ahead. She'd never seen herself doing anything more than she was in the present. And now that she tried… she found that she couldn't separate her future from the man in front of her. She couldn't imagine living without his stupid grin and his silver eyes.

"Sirius?" she whispered, her voice shaking just a little. "Do you love me?"

He smiled at the question. His hand left hers and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Then he kissed her. Callie's world melted as she kissed him back, hands resting on his shoulders. As he deepened the kiss, her world faded completely. He tasted like heaven and he smelled like home. His hand slid into her hair. She couldn't help but moan in pleasure as a fire sprang up in her stomach, making her hands fist his shirt and beg him not to pull away.

He felt like life. He felt like life, and she was sure she'd die if she lost him.

Sirius pulled away gently, letting just enough space between them for them to breathe. She kept her eyes closed, letting herself just feel him close to her. She felt his thumb slide over her bottom lip, and blushed.

Sirius held her close. He pressed soft kisses into her jaw and neck until he reached her ear. He smiled against her skin and whispered, "What do you think?"