-SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES-

-Sep 18th 1981, late night-

Mist pooled along the ground, drifting along slowly in wafts as it blanketed and obscured the lights from the cottage hoses of the small town in the distance. The grass was dewy in the cemetery of Godric's Hollow, the silence ominous and muffled in the unusually warm September evening. The curling mist and dark of night obscured the pale beams of moonlight that shown from behind thick clouds while the gravestones and gothic crosses stood muted in the dark.

The serene if ominous night was disturbed only by the faint glow from small spheres of blue fire that hovered in a ring in place above the ground, gently bobbing like ghost fire will-o-wisp. Reminiscent of a circle of flaming beads they produced no heat and revealed an old vine infested and weather worn mausoleum that had its large stone doors propped open like two resolute guards watching, waiting, for anyone to enter into the crypt.

Vines of thick ivy snaked over the stone walls in an attempt to strangle out the presence of man and return it to nature; worn to almost illegibility the Peverell Crest and Coat of Arms was carved into the front edifice of the tomb. A stone relic almost forgotten as it sat not in the graveyard itself, but rather a few miles away through an almost invisible trail through forest and underbrush and a few loose stone and dirt outcroppings infested with stranglers and tree roots so heavily overgrown it was clear no one had set foot on it in over a hundred years. The Old Peverell manor itself had long since been abandoned and forgotten, eroded and left in ruins so only a few crumbled bricks of the foundation remained and now only the stone mausoleum- a relic out of time was left to guard the final resting place for the ancestors of the Potter line.

However tonight was a night where not even the most annoyingly persistent of individuals (such as a certain duo of black haired Marauders) would have had a chance at finding the long abandoned site due to the palpably visible ward surrounding both the ruined property and tomb. In fact the strength of the ward currently overlaying the tomb itself was so think that is visibly wavered in the air like a phantom haze of rising heat. This ward was based on the various spells used by the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, specifically the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad and their Obliviator unit. It had been modified for a single use of 24 hours, and worked to deter any living thing from taking notice of anything going on behind the ward lines from any angle. Its creator had taken to calling it the null exclusion field because of how thoroughly it made the rest of the universe ignore that it existed. *(A thought had occurred that the only thing keeping anything behind the ward from fading completely out of existence was that its effects did not work on the castor, therefore it was acknowledged in some way as being real. Based on certain ideas of the observance effect on magic it was entirely possible the ward could be used to erase something out of existence, which in in itself was a scary enough notion that its creator had decided to never try so and through; warned any of such an outcome in her notes.)

Past the transparent curling wisps and wavering haze of the wards, if one were to go through the mausoleum entrance and follow the flickering light of more blue flame spheres that trailed down passage like markers lighting as trial you would soon come across stone steps that descended into the bowls of the earth. The descent would have been halted by a heavily decorated iron portcullis engraved with vines and an odd repeating pattern if its pointed iron bars had not been bent back far enough into the stone walls as if pushed aside by a giant hand. Continuing down the dusty, web infested passage led into a rounded antechamber; its back wall in a half moon curve with three shallow alcoves in the upper half of the high wall like those used in cathedrals to house the figures of saint or other holy images. In this case each alcove contained a cracked and faded stone statue of a different man.

The first; the young warrior mage, who was clad in mail armor of regal design and held a wand of detailed design in one hand and a sword in the other as he attacked an unseen foe, ignorant of the shadowy hand with a raised dagger swinging down behind his back in betrayal. The cracked and faded mural behind him depicted the scene of a long forgotten battle. The second statue; the aged necromancer, was draped in extensive and voluminously flowing fine robes, his mural in turn portrayed a stormy grave as undead hands burst forth from the earth. He carried a large black crystal in his open palm while he prepared to hang himself from a noose with the other as a hoard of skeletal hands reached for his legs from the base of the alcove in which he stood. The third; the old assassin, was cloaked in an weathered and torn shroud underneath which he wore belts with various daggers attached along with a dagger in each hand, his face shadowed by a hood as he stood proudly in his old age while slipping a cloak off of his shoulders. The grim reaper with its skeletal hand draped over his visible shoulder like an old friend greeting another as they both were seemingly pulled into the mural that showed a crumbling and cracked stone arch.

Underneath the alcoves was a wide decorated archway with two wrought iron stands to the sides, wax frozen dripping down from the many large candles that had once burned atop of them. The archway led down a short hall and into a regal spiral staircase that twisted down past three stories into the bedrock before it led into a vaulted tunnel of old stonework, rough with age and decay. The tunnel twisted and turned past various dead ends, for hundreds of feet it stretched. Slowly the brick stonework faded and melded in with the dark pocket-marked bedrock of the tunnel wall. Moss and ivy grew on the walls and floor, creeper vines and ferns began to appear before the winding tunnel ended and opened up to a large circular cavern.

The cavern was hollowed out into a rough oval shape with a few large depressions and crevices leading off and extending into the unknown. Huge meter wide columns of limestone stretching from floor to ceiling riddled the outer edges of the cave and melded together with various stalactites and stalagmites. A large and deep pond of dark blue water pooled at the center of the cave and at its middle a small island of black sand and pebbles rose up right underneath the water. On top sat a wide moss covered obsidian stone of a most peculiar shape, cut and rounded into the shape of sharp edged bowl, aged and chipped by time and elements. Dull blue light illuminated the fact that a very attractive redheaded woman stood at the shore of the underground lake in a thin green silk robe that reveled her nakedness underneath. The flickering glow from the floating bluebell flames that slowly circled the room like phantasmal lights revealed that a green eyed unruly black haired baby wrapped in a blanket rested in her arms as it whined at the unfamiliar setting.

"Shhhhh, Momma's here, don't cry Harry, don't cry, shhhh." Lily crooned to her nine moth old son as she gently rocked him in her arms.

She stepped off shore and walked barefoot to the center of the cathedral like space, seemingly ignoring all natural laws as she calmly strode over the still water, small ripples spreading out from her bare feet as they touched the surface. Unknown to any other living person save her, the gigantic cavern rested directly below the decrepit remains of the Peverell ancestral home. The wild plant growth and occasional mote of fairy light that accompanied the bluebell flames was due to the fact that the stone resting on the island at the center of the pool was placed precisely over a major ley-line. The stone itself was the key warding stone and was hundreds of year's old. Because of this it radiated ambient natural energy that infused the crystal clear waters and walls, allowing plant life to grow seemingly without sunlight. Unfortunately the ward stone had not been active for well the same amount of time; that is until tonight.

Lily noticed little of this as she placed the now unwrapped and nude baby Harry onto the bed of mossy growth in the depression of the ward stone. Reaching out with her left hand she employed one of the many skills which she hid from everyone including her husband; silently summoned her wand while gently stroking her son's forehead as he began to coo at her ministrations. Steeping back from the stone she summoned the tome containing the diagrams she would need and began chanting a slow and deep lullaby, flowing between Fuhark and Norse tongue as she circled her son seven times, periodically glancing at the hovering tome to make sure she made no errors. Lily's dress gently blew in an unfelt wind as liquid flames poured out of her wand with each turn, slowly wavering and shifting into a complex seal that flowed over the still waters until it met the edges of dry sand all around. She came back to the center of the pool unharmed, the fire parting around her feet and illuminating the cavern in a dull orange flickering light that cast deep shadows over every crevice and fault in the surrounding stone.

Lily then conjured a plain silver dagger, pricking her index finger she let seven drops fall on her child's forehead, seven on his lips so it dribbled into his mouth, and seven into the water. As the last drop fell the flames shivered and took on a more pallid vermilion hue.

This ritual that she was soon to perform was something never before seen by wizard kind, it was a work born from an idea, and years of meticulous study and research in arcane arts, forgotten tomes and secreted notes. A seven seal ritual created from the ashes of the ceremonial Rights of Godhood Ascension accord that ancient Egyptian magic users created to appoint their Pharaoh as ruler and god of their people, a unification of old Norse spells, Assyrian and Sumerian rituals, Celtic and Germanic sigils, and a sacrifice of blood that served as an invocation to various deities.

The flames formed seven circles and seven seals; each connected through a waving line of fractal Celtic knots. Seven symbols stood out as important from their obvious size inside the seven seals, each simplified in its design and yet created with intent and purpose with the blood from the mother that once more stood over her child.

The first was a burning ring with a circle at its center, the alchemical symbol of gold, the sun, Ra, and the all Seeing Eye. It was meant to give sight beyond sight, the ability to discern truth from lie, see the unseen and reality for what it was.

The second was a fiery three Magatama tomoe with a spiral starting in the bell and ending in at the tip in a perfect golden ratio; a symbolic simplification and representation of the Norse Triskelion, and it symbolized the unity between spirit, mind, and body- creation, destruction, and preservation- power, intellect, and love- the sun, the moon, and the earth.

The third symbol was the scorched outline of an upraised hand with an eye at the center of the palm, the Hand of Fatima. It was a symbol rooted in Jewish symbolism from the Babylonian era, and it was a symbol of protection against evil power.

The fourth symbol was a flaming Ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail, but instead of the traditional circle, it was curled into the symbol of infinity. It was a symbol of renewal, life and death. It was also Degaz, the Norse rune for awakening, enlightened, and awareness. The symbol itself was made up of four Kenaz runes, or knowledge, intellect, and illumination, all combined into a simple infinity sign.

The fifth glowing sign was a stylized lightning bolt, it reflected both an Assyrian/Sumerian and Norse rune. It represented justice, power, energy, speed, lightning, attack, siege, and a strike from the heavens.

The sixth symbol was that of a burning Monas Hieroglphica, the symbol of Azeroth, Saturn, and the Philosopher's stone. It was a composite from other alchemical and astrological signs, including that of Aries, fire, the sun and moon, and a cross representing nature and the four elements.

The seventh and final symbol, the one that sealed the rest was that of the sign of Libra, the scales, and not so coincidentally the seventh astrological sign as well. It represented judgment, balance, and sky.

As these seven glowing symbols settled and dimmed back into the seal of fire in a large circle around the center of the pool Lily bent over her son and gently kissed his forehead with all the love she could muster as she thought back to her entire life and the events that had led her and Harry here beneath the decrepit home of her husband's forgotten ancestors.

(Flashback)

Lily and the rest of the Evans family had been living in the town Spinner's End; which was located between Manchester and Liverpool, since before she was born. Her father, Craig Evans was a Steel Mill worker, and her mother Rose Evans had been a librarian until the birth of her elder sister of one year, Petunia.

Spinner's End was a small town, named after the small textile factory that was replaced by the steel mill around 1948. The mill itself was located on the river and was powered by a coal and steam furnace. It had one towering lone chimney stack on the side, and because of this a grey smoky sky always seemed to hang over the town. The river itself was rather dirty; waste from the mill was dumped in it, as it wound around one side of the town past the row of two story terraced homes that were near the steep and muddy banks. A rusting rail divided the bank from the cobbled street, which ran alongside the houses that were built primarily for the steel mill workers. Small alleys separated each home, most strewn with some rubbish and mud.

On the other side of the small town, about ten minutes' walk away from the river, was where Lily and her family lived. Here the houses were somewhat larger and separated by small garden yards. The very back row led to a large copse of trees, mainly of Crab Apple, Ash, Birches, Beeches and Elm. Her home was located near this copse, with only a small field separating her home from the line of trees. It was in this home that she lived until her eighteenth birthday.

Her father Craig Evans was a large man, not the kind of large that made one fat, but rather large in a way that the muscles under the fat could still be clearly seen. Craig had a body like that of a tank, built up over the years from working in the mill as he carried heavy crates and operated the smelting furnaces. Because of this his large meaty arms were scarred up to the elbow, slightly darker than the rest of his skin, and his face appeared to have a permanent red tan from the heat of the molten steel. He had a short cropped beard of dull black hair, and a growing bald patch on his head. And although Craig's appearance gave of the feeling of a snorting bull he was a very objective and caring man, not standing for useless tomfoolery, or unkindness of any sort. He was well liked in the mill, being one of the hardest workers and the friendliest, and had quickly risen to the position of assistant foreman. After work he and various other coworkers would often times spend part of the evening at the pub before he went home to spend time with his wife and two adorable daughters.

In contrast to her towing husband, Lily's mother Rose Evans was a small waif and petite thing of a woman, but beautiful nonetheless. Rose had deep and richly dark burgundy colored hair which shined red in certain light- hence her name, which she usually carried in a bun. She was a very kind and loving wife and mother, always set to do the right thing, help the needy, and support her family in everything they did. She was a librarian before her first daughter was born, and before that she taught science and mathematics in secondary and sixth form schools, thus her very ordered and knowledgeable mind. Both Lily and Petunia grew up learning many things about the world, their mother teaching them science and mathematics, how to think logically and be critical of information, to seek the truth and not take others word for it, as their father toiled away at the mill before coming home. The entire Evans family was Anglo Christian, and attended the sermons given in the only church in town religiously every Sunday.

So it was that the Evans family had been living a rather ordinary life for a family in the UK during the mid-1900's and raising two growing daughters when at the age of five something completely extraordinary happened to Lily. Something that blew the metaphorical minds of Rose and Craig Evans. It had been another rainy day in Spinner's End, and being stuck indoors once more Lily and Petunia had decided to play a game of hide and seek in the house to pass the time while their mother made supper. When that game ran its course and boredom set in they decided to play dollhouse instead. Unfortunately the wooden playset had been broken previously and now sat in the small attic workroom where her father kept the supplies he used to repair furniture and other items. Lily was keen on being able to play and dragged her sister up into the room only to remember the state of the dollhouse. On a spur of the moment decision she wished with all her heart that the wooden toy had never been broken. To her surprise, and Petunia's fright, the dollhouse began to miraculously repair itself. The girls of course ran screaming to their mother, and upon informing her she followed them up into the attic and stared in disbelief at the newly repaired miniature toy home.

And the strange things in the Evans household did not end there. For the next two years it became obvious that Lily seemed to be the one that instigated the paranormal events. Levitating objects and causing flickering lights when she was upset or scared. Repairing broken things with a great deal of concentration, and being able to bring things to her that were out of reach by either levitating them or making them appear before her.

Craig and Rose were astounded by these events, and a myriad of ideas and thoughts passed through their minds as they learned to cope with the fact that their youngest daughter had supernatural powers. Was it Devil Craft, Extraterrestrials, Poltergeist, Spirts or Ghosts? Slowly but surely they why and how stopped mattering to them, because being the kind of people they were they could never stop loving their daughter, and through a process of trial and error both Craig and Rose taught Lily how to better control her powers, and when or why to use them.

But all was not well in the Evans household; there was one person that was not pleased by the powers displayed by Lily Evans. Petunia did not like the new things her sister could do; they made her nervous, frightened, and at the same time jealous as her parents spent more time with Lily, indulging her and being amazed by her while leaving Petunia to the side. She felt ignored, cast aside as every day her sister seemed to grow more loved, more beautiful, and more intelligent. Lily of course tried to share and explore her abilities with her sister, but Petunia's fear kept her at arm's reach and she began to grow more distant from Lily, developing a spiteful streak as they grew older. But Lily still lover her older sister, and would always try to tag along and show how much she cared, calling her big sister Tuney as an affectionate nickname.

Although Lily could be considered popular among the school children in the small Primary school she attended with her sister, she had a distinct lack of close friends because of her fiery attitude when provoked and her keen mind. This left her feeling that the topics other girls discussed, like dolls and dresses, to be distinctly below her intellectual level, more so as time went on.

Then, at the age of eight she met him- Severus Snape. He was a quiet but intelligent boy with raven black hair and a slightly hooked nose, but he was mysterious and snarky. They were not what one could consider friends, more like school rivals. They were very knowledgeable children for their age, and they both had a need to show it to others, leading them to often compete for the highest position in class. To make matter worse they both shared a talent for many things, such math, chemistry, and reading. But whereas Severus leaned towards being cunning and snide, she tended to be rational and clever. Their personalities ground against each other in a good way, spurning each one to keep trying to outwit, outsmart, or outshine the other. Often times they could be found in the school library reading on subjects a few years above their age, topics most their age would have difficult comprehending. There were two large differences between them that further set the apart from one another, their personal and social lives were distinctly at opposite ends.

Severus, with his tallow looks, small stature, and grating personality was a prime target for bullies, in contrast Lily was extremely popular, her beauty, alongside her intelligence made her one of the most well like girls in school. Severus lived on the poorer side of Spinner's End by the river, his father, Tobias Snape was an abusive drunk that could hardly tolerate the abnormal and blamed his failing on others, and his mother, Eileen was a timid and downtrodden woman that could barely stand up to her husband, and would often fall prey to his angry fists just as many times as Severus would in her efforts to defend her son. Lily on the other hand had an otherwise happy home life, excluding her sister's growing distance; she had two loving and caring parents to return home to every day.

One thing that could be said about her however, was that she had neither patience nor tolerance for bullies, It took an accident underneath the bridge that crossed the river as it curved around a more forested part of Spinner's End where Severus almost drowned due to a group of older children harassing him that led her to expose her supernatural abilities when she saved him from the mucky waters.

The incident led her to learn what she really was, what Severus was as well. Magic Was Real! She was a witch, and Severus a wizard. Of course even against Severus's warning she want and told everything to her parents, both of who were happy to have their fears alieved, Craig with a calm acceptance, and her mother with an inquisitive hunger as she retold them everything Severus taught her. From then onwards they were best friends, changing their dynamic from one of grudging respect and competition to one of friendly banter and contemplation of the world as they discusses philosophy, the purpose of magic, and the world that awaited them.

Two more years went by as he taught her about the wizarding world, how his mother was a pureblood witch descended from a family falling into near poverty and obscurity since the War against Grindelwald. All the secrets the so called muggles would never know of even as they lived side by side, a secret world she would join at the age of eleven. Severus brought her books on potions, transfiguration, charms, the dark arts, history of magic, and magizoology. He told her of the division between pureblood, half-bloods, and muggleborns in the social hierarchy, and although they did not agree on all points, it was safe to say they both appreciated those that had both the mind and passion to rise above the masses. And in turn she was his friend and equal, she defended him from bullies, and in another occasion stopped his father from ever laying a finger on him or his mother ever again when she inevitably let slip his home life to her father, and Craig Evans marched over to the Snape household in a burning huff and taught Tobias Snape a lesson in manners and family respect he would never forget.

How could they not have become best friends, the quiet and moody loner that could match her wit and smarts and the sometime shy sometimes bubbly redhead with the fiery temper that was slow to rise but could explode like a volcano when provoked. Not all was well in the Evans household though, bit by bit her friendship with Severus made her sister all the more resentful, no longer did Lily spend time with her, but rather with the shabbily dressed Snape boy, no longer did they play together like in the past.

By the time Lily received her letter to Hogwarts her sister was rather cold and petty, even for a twelve year old. However two incidents would lead Petunia to loath her, and hate magic as well. The first happened the same week after Lily had received her letter. Petunia; under her fear and jealousy still lover her sister, but that love turned in on itself, becoming the beginning of true abhorrence when her plea to attend the same school as her sister was returned with nothing but an outright dismissal by the headmaster of Hogwarts. She was a muggle, and had no place in the magical world Lily would soon join. The second proved to Petunia, in her mind, that magic was something abnormal, something dangerous and unnatural.

For a while now Petunia had been following her sister out in secret, tailing her and watching from around corners or bushes as she would go meet and talk with that despicable Snape boy. Snape and Lily had yet to realize this, but on one trip Petunia made a mistake that almost cost her life. She decided to scare the two while they were talking in a small grove. Severus didn't take to well to being spied on, and unfortunately he lashed out in anger and accidental magic. If Lily had not been there to save her life, Petunia would have been crushed by the large branch that had cracked itself off a tree and flung itself at her. Bar the fact that she could have died, and that it was her sister that saved her life, Petunia saw the anger and judgment in Snape's eyes after standing from where she had been pushed by an invisible force from her sister's outstretched hand. From that day on there was something broken between the Evan's siblings, something that no matter how hard Lily or her family tried to fix, would remain for the rest of their lives.

But life continued, and even in her first year at Hogwarts Lily proved to be one of the most talented witches in the entire school. Like most muggleborns she was astounded an amazed by the magical world, but there was a distinct difference that set her apart. She never lost her wonder, never got sucked into the focal train of thought that seemed to affect all wizard kind, that magic was just a means to an end, where innovation had no allure because anything could be done by magic. For her entire seven years she applied her analytical and logical mind to the mysteries of magic, never forgetting her roots. Because of this she excelled, applying muggle ideas, knowledge, and principles to the illogical and physics breaking secrets of magic. During summers she was still home schooled by her mother with a high speed heavy crash course in science, history, mathematics, English literature, and geography. So while her muggleborn counterparts stuttered in their magical education and crashed in their muggle academics she progressed well past the level of secondary and into sixth form school.

Meanwhile at Hogwarts she was known as a teacher's pet, it did not bother her however, as she exceeded expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies, and completely blew all expectations in Potions, Charms, Ancient Runes, and Arthimacy. She was the star of Gryffindor, and even though Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout were not her head of house, they praised her for her cunning, intellect, and work ethic. She was just as popular in Hogwarts as she had been back home, quickly becoming acquainted or friends with Alice Fortescue, Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance, Mary Macdonald, Benjy Fenwick, Frank Longbottom, and Narcissa Black.

It became apparent however that being a witch was not everything she thought it would be. First was that although she had made friends with people in various houses, as time went on they grew further apart, especially those in Slytherin like Narcissa. Even Severus grew more and more distant, something that hurt her deeply after her falling out with her sister at such a young age. Then there was the immature Potter brat, his best friend Sirius- the notorious black sheep of house Black, and their sycophant follower Peter that had been bothering her and bullying others since their first year. Finally her growing realization that the British magical world was not as "magical" as it seemed left her disillusioned and dissatisfied with her position and standing as a female muggle born. No matter how smart she was, how well connected, how powerful or successful, she would always be lower than a Pureblood ass-hat like Malfoy and his entourage of privileged snob friends. Because of his little group and their families, including the Black family itself, she lost her friendship with Cissa completely by her third year.

Troubles struck one after another as her efforts to reconcile with her sister fell flat. Over the course of her time in Hogwarts the Pureblood movement had exploded from purely dogmatic campaigning, rallies, and recruiting at Hogwarts and developed into riots and attacks, full blown guerilla warfare, assassinations, disappearances, blackmail, and muggle killings lead by the newly risen Dark Lord, Voldemort.

On the bright side she had graduated as Head Girl with honorary accomplishment and commendation from Hogwarts in 1978, earning a plaque in the trophy room as the class dux. Potter had finally matured and taken on the mantle of Lord after both his parents Charlus and Dorea Potter inexplicably died of Dragon Pox out of the blue. He had finally managed to convince her to date during seventh year, and she- surprisingly, found herself quickly falling for the young man who it turned out could be very intelligent and mature. She was well connected to some influential people due her mentor Professor Slughorn, and had received apprenticeship and work offers in the fields of Potions, Ward-breaking, and Experimental Charms work. However, those plans would be left on hold due to the War efforts and her recruitment into the newly formed Order of The Phoenix - led by the bastion of the Light, Albus Dumbledore.

After marrying and moving in with James into the Ancestral Potter Manor aptly named Potter's Keep tragedy struck once more as both her parents died in a fire that started in in the Steel Mill and spread to the homes on the side of Spinner's End in which her parents lived, Lily's heartache from the misfortune that fell her parents was somewhat alleviated with the birth of her son Hadrian "Harry" James Fenris Potter in 1980, but it saddened both her and James that Harry would never meet his grandparents on either side of the family. Another drastic problem arose because of this, and both Potter's came to the realization that their family and close friends were quickly dwindling out, after having legally appointed Sirius Black as Harry's Godfather and Harry his legal heir, and Alice Longbottom as his Godmother she and James Wrote a co-op will that stipulated various backup plans in case of their death including the rights of guardianship, dispersal of assets, and ownership of accounts and property.

Now for the last few months she and James had been in hiding at the small Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow as the war against Voldemort raged on. Two months before her precious Harry was born Dumbledore had come to her and James and told them that he had come across information that was vital to their survival, the headmaster said that Voldemort had begun ordering strikes on the families of those that he had fought the dark wizard but escaped his grasp. Families that were important factors and contributors to the light or neutral side whether politically or financially were being hunted and killed in their own homes. For reasons unknown they and their friends the Longbottoms were now in mortal danger from a direct attack form Voldemort and his two generals, Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov. Not long after under the advice of the headmaster she and James had left their home -Potter's Keep - and moved into their present safe house which was placed under the Fidelius charm by Dumbledore.

Although Potter's Keep; a small two story manor consisting of seven rooms surrounded by five acres of land with a guest home and barn was well warded, it was also the most obvious place to hide. A direct attack from Voldemort could be held in stalemate at most an hour, but eventually the dark wizard would be able to get through. The safe house that Dumbledore chose in Godric's Hollow was, unknown to them, situated right next to where the headmaster himself had lived while in his teenage years. It was an unlikely place to look for the family of three since such information was remembered by only a few elderly witches and wizards, and because a Fidelius charm made it all but nonexistent to those who even knew about it was surely the safest place for her family to hide.

Or so Dumbledore had said.

Two months after having gone into hiding Peter was made their secret keeper instead of Sirius, who had thought of the switch as a prank against Death Eaters in a form of subterfuge, he had eventually convinced her, James, and Dumbledore that it was the best option. Although she agreed with her son's Godfather on the bait and switch ploy as Sirius would be the most likely to be suspected as their secret keeper, she still thought that he would have been a better option as a secret keeper than Peter, she however conceded to Dumbledore's plan after he convinced her husband it was the best course of action.

That did not mean she wholeheartedly placed all her trust on Dumbledore and his decisions, since her first year at Hogwarts she had grown to respect the man, but she had always had a nagging discomfort whenever he took his time to speak with her. A certain small part of her mind always told her things were off about him, the way he spoke in riddle or allegory, the way he liked to keep things hidden, the way he acted so damn grandfatherly and yet there was always a way about him and his mannerisms, like a grand chess master that put on a friendly face that led her to believe he was always hiding something about everything he said and that the way he portrayed himself was meant to distract people from his true intentions or intellect.

Since she had gotten these feelings she had strived to act like everyone else did around Dumbledore, to put up an act of willing ignorance to follow him unquestionably as a sound leader, but as time went on she noticed that he gently pushed people into certain situations, he emitted a hidden influence on those around him. While both students and teachers, and magical Britain in general took his words as law; Lily felt it odd that no one ever questioned any of his actions or decisions. Although he was the acclaimed leader of the light, Dumbledore barley did anything to potentially better the magical world. The man had the influence and power, but he sat in his post as headmaster and let the earth revolve around him. These suspicions and his actions in regards to her family and her son had led her to investigate; although very quietly, the actions of the Elderly headmaster. After all, his slogan of "For the greater good" could be seen in a much darker light.

As a muggle born witch - a very smart and intuitive one at that, Lily had always strived to stay close to her roots and not forget about the muggle world while staying in the magical world, because of this she realized just how antiquated and prejudiced the magical world was. The British wizarding world and many aspects of other magical communities were based on a society with characteristics from the medieval, colonial, and Victorian era. Society was divided in castes, although the U.K seemed to be one of the most prevalently insular, secluded, and corrupt. Most of this was further developed through aging tradition that the main power base of so called Purebloods spread through ignorance and self-promotion of their views on an already stagnating culture.

Lily had through simple research concluded that the Ministry of magic was more akin to a socialist totalitarian oligarchy. To the sheeple of the wizarding world their government was fair, just, and vital to their way of life, but to her most if not all wizards and witches were oppressed in ways they did not notice nor understand. They all praised their own way of life but seemed to share the fundamental flaw of ignorance and illogical xenophobia of muggles, looking down on them as if they were inferior beasts, stupid animals with no intelligence or culture. Oh how this angered her, how it burned inside her to see change.

But how could she, a simple muggleborn change anything, she had no magical heritage, she was not wealthy, and she was female. In a society rife with racism, sexism and even classism someone like her could hardly hope to amount to anything more than a midlevel position job.

By her fifth year at Hogwarts it became apparent that Wizards lived a two faced life, preaching morality and blood purity, social rules and ethics only to turn around and break every single one. It infuriated her that most purebloods could still act like they were above other sentient races and so called muggle filth and savages, and justify their actions because they were noble, because they had magic. The one thing that spurned her on, as always was her intelligence. Something Lily prided herself above all else, and with due notice. To her mundane school peers she could have been considered a prodigy. By the time she left primary school at the age of elven she could already match a last year secondary student in both knowledge and aptitude.

Compared to wizarding children she was a genius! The main reason of course being that wizards, over time and especially in the last hundreds of years after society had settled into more civilized patterns of culture and rule had lost their need for innovation when they had magic to fall back on. With no notable wars or major cultural upheavals in their world at large and as a whole they lost the need to use magic like the warlocks and mages of old. Now simpler magic was the make all do all solution for anything. To the average witch or wizard, it did not matter exactly how magic or what it affected worked, just that it did. Simple theories made from conjecture on little evidence other than the observed facts were used to explain most spells. Tried and tested ideas in other subjects like potions and runes became a norm. In a world where simple physics could be seemingly ignored or broken, logical thought seemed to have fled for an almost uncaring laziness and attitude.

Even then there were more problems. Those few that dared to innovate or experiment, to go beyond the expected norm were either hailed as some great phenomenon, or if they came into too much power, they were branded as dark. Dumbledore had avoided that pitfall through both political connections and public persona. He exemplified the mental image of Gryffindor, and later –Merlin, in his dress, his speech, and his actions. It was no wonder he now held so many important positions.

However, through all the difficulties that had arisen, and even though she had never applied to any of her offered career choices, a surprise came to her soon after marriage. A simple slip of black parchment appeared on her bedside table while she was at home in Potter Manor and James was off on some Auror task. On its surface was printed an inverted crescent moon nestled underneath a seven pointed star surrounded by a ring and three circles with the initials D.O.M printed on the crescent. It took her an hour to not only realize it was the little seen symbol of the Department Of Mysteries, but to also unravel the enchantments placed on the parchment so that the hidden message revealed itself. It was a personal invitation from the head of the Unspeakables; who had taken a personal interest in her skills after observing her in her last years of schooling, for her to join their research and development division, and a warded portkey designed for her use only if she accepted the position.

Now of course she did not go rushing off, even though such a thing had her extremely excited, but rather decided to send the missive back with a request for a two way interview before she accepted, with her own touch of mystery of course. She dismantled the portkey without setting off its wards, transfigured the parchment into a little metallic automaton that could fold itself into s small inch wide cube, permanently charmed to act with a semblance of self-awareness as a personal desk helper, and finally remade both the wards and portkey charm with her own message before sending it off. The next day a second parchment with an amused reply appeared in the small hands of her creation. The head Unspeakable had accepted her terms for the interview to be held on the very same day. She made her excuses to James who was in the living room at the time and activated the portkey.

After she retuned that night she had both new information and new goal in mind. She was now an Unspeakable, and therefor only she and her handler, Head Unspeakable Saul Blackwood knew of her position.

In the rough total of five years she worked under Saul he came to be something of a father figure to her as she apprenticed directly under him. He was a mastermind of strategy, a fountain of archaic knowledge. He was a caring man that had lost his family in the Second World War, but most surprisingly of all was that he had risen to his position through pure brilliance and hard work despite the fact that like her, he was a muggleborn.

Under his tutelage she flourished like never before. If she was considered a prodigy at Hogwarts before even though the standardized and regulated classes held her back, she could now be said to be a genius at whatever she applied herself to with such a wealth of readily available resources and information that would be restricted to most of the population. Lily brought innovation and ideas to the table like no other, but even though she greatly enjoyed her work, her dreams of changing the wizarding world were put off by a more sinister problem that grasped its claws deeper that she ever thought possible.

The Ministry was a parasite of magic, of knowledge, of power. Every single worker under its employment, from simple clerk to the Minister himself was bound and tied and chained by the very system they supported under a mountain of oaths so binding and coagulated and administered and written and reused by the old families and the old blood that it was a surprise anything ever got done. Any job in the Ministry could be a prison, not that many ever knew it. The Minister was told by his predecessor only after being sworn in, that is if the predecessor survived his term of office. She was lucky enough that Saul had enough leeway in his position that he had been upfront with her. The tradeoff for her tabling her personal goals for he thirst for knowledge that could be used later, a compromise she made with plans to correct them in the future.

With her being Saul's apprentice, the truth became unmasked, the true gravity of the problems of their world that she was now bound to, was but a symptom of a greater disease that had been growing like a cancer for a very long time. Although her position gave her latitude in her choices, if called upon she was now obligated, by oath, by magic, to do the will of the Ministry. She realized that the system held her, her husband, many other good people back from doing what was necessary to end the war, to change the world. Even a powerful wizard like Dumbledore was chained to it.

No one knew the full extent of the oaths they would take when joining the Ministry. They didn't hand over a stack of parchments outlining their rules on a person's first day. From a normal wizard to even a person in her position, they were not told that there was an oath upon applying, an oath at the interview, a few oaths upon starting as a paper-pusher, then as a junior researcher, a few more oaths at the research division if you survived the exposure to all the papers and rules. By the time one was a capable employee of the Department of Mysteries; one was bound with oaths and contracts thicker than the latest edition of Hogwarts a History. Luckily for her she and Saul were the few that were not bound so tightly and had more latitude to act.

However it angered them both, especially with the civil war they now faced that meanwhile those shady people, those not officially indoctrinated into this system but with even some knowledge of its workings and a bit of coin could buy whole laws to protect themselves from people in the Ministry, people bound by oaths and old magic's. Good people that were hamstrung by once decent laws, now abused by the evil that slunk around in the corners of their society. The old ways, the ways of justice for those who escaped official notice, were denied.

There were laws that prevented Ministry oath holders from killing except in circumstances of direst self-defense and even then not always. There were laws that crippled and restricted all law enforcement related departments and stations- the very people trying to win the war. It was all a mess, all these purchased laws, all these private sanctuaries for evil.4 The Ministry served as one of the strongest involuntary bindings created by the week to control the strong. It was a system turned into a disgusting artifact.

Binding was the greatest of the secret arts of the modern wizarding world. Advanced magic was reserved to those licensed to teach it, who in turn were controlled by their own oaths for having learned it. Magic involving necromancy was illegal, their teachings and uses blacklisted and suppressed from public knowledge, unless done with a permit through a solicitor that was required to get a permit for the same, and ministry official present. A permit only issued to those willing to part great amount of monetary "donations" to the Ministry. Blood and soul magic were illegal, period. That meant possessing, having knowledge of, or teaching such magic was punishable with life in Azkaban. Not that had stopped her from delving into certain aspects of blood wards and rituals during her time with Saul. The teaching of binding magic without a permit was the only kind punishable by death through Dementor's kiss. Even the knowledge of something simple like the Unbreakable Vow; which had to be taken willingly, was considered dark magic.

So it was of course expected that the study of binding magic was reserved to the Ministry and the Ministry alone; reserved for the oath crafters who hid behind their titles and pretended that they had power because they were allowed to. The Ministry oaths were wide and deep, but some of the components were old, some included by tradition4, a tradition left out and hidden from the ignorant and unsuspecting muggleborns like her. Of course all the true understanding, forewarning, and preparation for Wizarding culture passed from father to son, mother to daughter within the pureblood circles and the old and "Most Noble" of families, no need to inform the lowly muggleborns of their rights and knowledge or lack thereof.

Lily knew that like all things, in hindsight, it should have been obvious, but the system was set up to blind and conceal the truth, to dazzle the muggleborns to the world of magic with this new world and power that they had thought was once fiction, a fairy tale, or a bedtime story of dragons and monsters and castles and warlocks and knights and princesses. The system was set to disestablish and separate them from their roots, but leave them grounded and lost in the truth of the matter. While pureblood families could teach their child of magic, and politics, and secret hidden realities from the second they could crawl, muggleborns were sprung upon with this knowledge at the age of eleven, there was no forewarning, no integration, and no one for parents to turn to when their child caused these unexplainable things that seemed like the paranormal.

Until surprise! After a possible eleven years of frightening and unexplainable events revolving about your child it turns out magic does exist and wizards and wizards are real! Your child is a witch or wizard, handshake, handshake, welcome to the world of magic! Here is your pamphlet, good day, now next in line… Lily could consider herself lucky that she was still accepted by her parents, and only lost her sister's acceptance. Others were not so fortunate, they and their families believed in their god or gods, they believed in heaven and hell or science and advancement and they refused to accept or wanted to oust the magical world. Oaths and obliviation and magical bindings were the standard solution used to enforce the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and in their wake families were left broken and lost with no explanation.

As an unspeakable Lily had access to the truth, but could not speak of it, she had the knowledge, but could not share it. She now knew that the things that had seemed to be the pillars that held up the wizarding world were glass and sand, smoke and mirrors. The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was useless and a joke. Persecution and fear that had begun early in fifteenth century Europe and lasted until the seventeenth century had left wizards of the Old World with a segregated mindset.

In their own self isolation witches and wizards came to believe that only seclusion would keep them safe. And for a time they were right. But they stayed secluded, they kept hidden in their little magical world safe behind oaths and spells and wards as they caught only small glimpses of the outside world. A world that had grown and changed and advanced more in the last three hundred years that in the previous ten thousand as theirs began to stagnate and rot from the inside. The International Statute of Secrecy was signed in 1689… By wizards, an unofficial, unsanctioned treaty that was neither endorsed nor authorized by their own countries governments or ruling body. Like the thirteen colonies of the New World that declared their independence from Great Brittan the magical world had declared their own independence, except that they neglected to tell anyone but themselves.

And then her son was born, and Dumbledore came to them with his news of Voldemort's hunt, and so she set about a contingency plan to end all other, worked with Saul to lay out the foundations of a plot that would ensure her and her husband's bloodline. It was a plan that looped completely around her binding and oaths, secrets within secrets that would have had her soul sucked out of her body if they were ever found out while she lived.

All her research, notes, ideas, and goals were written out along with the memories of her life. A memento and guide for her son. In this notebook she expresses the simple and yet crucial truth to the sickness that plagued their world. It was only a symptom of something far greater than she could know, but the right questions where never asked, the right directions were never faced, history itself had been erased and rewritten, hidden and locked away to hide something, something incomprehensible.

It only really mattered to her because of her son, because of Harry; she was bound in life, but in death would be free. Harry would not be bound; he would have her knowledge, and his strength to do what she could do no longer. Her precious child would be the unyielding spear of change, the unbreakable scythe that would shear away the sickness and corruption. Her words and memories and her very soul would be his shield and foundation. The oaths she had given would not matter.

(Flashback end)

And now it all led up to this moment. She could feel in in her soul, what she was about to attempt would be a turning point, a divide in the timeline, she was going against fate.

Lily stared at her precious son as the flickering light from the pallid vermilion flames formed strange shadows on his face, her eyes caught up in the emerald green that were so much like her own.

"The common witch and wizard fears power – and adores it. Thy flock to those that have it like moths to a flame, and in turn just as easily resent and hate these idols they have place on a marble pillar, and are just as prone to topple it when their little world does not match the fantasy they have created within their minds. They praise their heroes one day, then mock and ridicule them the next. This paradox, one of many has guided and warped our world for at least four centuries, if not longer." She caresses her son face she spoke, waiting for the precise time for her to finish the ritual.

'The weak still ruled the world.' She thought to herself as her son giggled at her wondering fingers on his belly.

"But you will rule the week…" Lily smiled at her words, to any other person, even her best friends, even her husband, she would have sounded like some dark lady, but she understood, she knew of the lies that had watered down real magic until it was but a dull reproduction of its powerful origins. She knew the steps needed to ensure her sons future, her family's future, and the future of the world even. "If they knew what I am about to do, and why, would they see me as good, or as evil Harry?" Her son responded with a giggle at her arched brow and thin smile as he tugged at her fiery red hair.

Outside this cave the war against Voldemort was already wearing on the light side, their numbers were being devastated and the Dark Lord was growing in both power and followers every day; striking fear into the hearts of the wizarding world with a terror campaign of hit and run warfare and guerrilla tactics that the more reserved and conservative Aurors could not hope to compete with. The Order of the Phoenix was hard pressed to win any fights- a fact that led Lily to realize that wizards in general sucked at fights, especially those of the self-proclaimed light side, who in a live or die situation still tried to stun or capture death eaters while the death eaters held nothing back and threw around curses and mayhem without a care. So many good people dead because they held onto and listened to the preaching's of Dumbledore.

They would use insurgent warfare tactics and worked to cause maximum destruction and death leaving the light wizards to flounder helplessly. She tried to convince order members to fight fire with fire- but her words were unheeded. So far only Moody, James, and Sirius seemed to listen or agree. Now the tides would turn, and her son would grow to be the eye of the raging storm, a force of nature that would shake magical Britain to its core and wipe away the sickness like a raging flood.

"There are currently two sides in this war, the so called Dark, and the self-proclaimed Light. A few sit off to the side by choice, while others are force to take sides. The fight between Voldemort and Dumbledore is almost like something out of a comic book, they so lover their posturing and needling, both are megalomaniacs and wankers." Her son responded with a burst of babble as he wiggled his small arms and legs in the air at the funny faces his redheaded mother was making in her attempt to mock the Dark Lord.

With the so called prophecy Dumbledore had received but neglected to divulge to her revealed anyways by Saul soon after it was recorded into the Hall of Prophecies, it was evident that she and her husband might not survive this war, but her son would, he would be the catalyst to change the world. It was also obvious now that she had been right in her assumptions about Dumbledore's actions and motives.

Her wand vibrated in her hand, signaling that the time for reminiscing was over; the ritual was now set to be completed. Her soul would serve as a shield for Harry, like a Horcrux, but made from love and sacrifice, intended not to safeguard the life of its creator, but rather, that of another.

A few minutes later high above the ruins of the Peverell home a thin bolt of lightning flashed from the ground and into the heavens before returning as a continuous pillar of electric energy that dissipated after a few seconds as the air distorted in an expanding sphere. Miles away a shockwave of magical energy passed through Godric's Hollow and resonated through the air, a brief ripple that could barley be seen with the naked eye and only left a tingle of static on the skin. Carefully pulling herself up onto shore from where she had been thrown from the burst of energy that entered her son Lily wiped the sweat from her brow. The second stage of the ritual had left her muscles aching and her body exhausted, her magic near spent. With what little she had left she froze the surface of the water and walked across to her son.

Harry lay crying in the glassed remains of the rune stone, it appeared to be a rounded, star like crystal cradle made of razor sharp obsidian that pointed outward with a glass smooth depression in the center where he wept. Channeling energy to her eyes Lily could see seven runes embedding themselves directly into his soul and body, just as they faded from view on his skin. Picking up the still crying Harry she looked down with total love and affection at her little boy, her miracle of life.

"I will always love you Harry, no matter what happens you will always have me to protect you, in here." Pointing at his heart she snuggled her now sleeping son into her bare chest. She wrapped her son in his blanket once more, crooning to him as he quickly fell asleep before dressing herself after having crossed back to shore.

That night all traces of magic were siphoned off and any markings of human disturbance were hidden under layers of dust, dirt, and webs. The Tomb left seemingly undisturbed, its stone doors sealed once more, vines and moss overgrowing the crumbling façade. With the fidelius only one person on earth would remember its location, her child being the secret keeper.

[4] Excerpt lines from Knowledge is Useful, But Power is Power By: DisobedienceWriter, go read it it's a good but short story: s/8215565/1/Knowledge-is-Useful-But-Power-is-Power

[1] What the cave kind of looked like (will add image later)

[2] What the outside of the crypt looked like (will add image later)

[3] The D.O.M Symbol on the parchment (will add image later)