The Memories

She froze as the loud crash of a front door exploding open filled the cold air. In that moment the world seemed to slow down around her. It was an awful feeling of endless sadness mingled with a desperate longing for her baby to be safe. Moments like those, heart sinking, thought stopping, tear inducing seconds, are what every person fears. Not being able to think of anything to say, not being able to think a minute past the present, knowing that in a moment everything's going to change and you can't do anything about it. A clock ticked in the background, infinitely slower than normal, and cars flew past the frosty window, catching a glimpse of the shattered door briefly but not caring enough to stay, forgetting about the destruction in an instant, a luxury she wished for eternally. She sat Harry down in his cot, knowing she would never hold him in her arms again and having to fight the urge to run; there was no running from Voldemort. A deep scream echoed through the hallways of the small house and she could think nothing but 'I'm next'. Mourning for her husband would be futile; she'd be joining him in a few minutes, it was her small son, the boy she knew would survive any attack after what was about to happen, who needed her love right now. With tears in her eyes she knelt down opposite him, whispering repeatedly about how much she loved him, hoping this would be enough and wishing for the impossible; that he would remember her. Most of all, she wished she could go back in time, be more careful, or run further, try harder to keep her baby safe but it was too late now. The door to her room smashed open and she stood up quickly, blocking Voldemort's path to her son. Her eyes met his with a silent attempt at bravery, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning, he had too much of that, this would happen on her terms. Her final thought was of Harry, his eyes so like hers and the jet black hair already settled in a wide tangle on top of his little childlike face reminding her so much of her husband. She had the most wonderful hopes for him; he would be quiddich captain as well as a diligent student and a loyal friend. He would be universally loved and admired, boys would want to be him and girls would want to be with him, although none of them would ever be good enough. The only heart-wrenching part was that she wouldn't be there to see him grown up. There was nothing more she could do and, after refusing an offer of her life for her son's, a flash of green light surrounded her and there was nothing more, only the slightly delayed ticking of the clock remained.

Harry arrived a few minutes before one o'clock, eager to find out why his old professor was so desperate to see him but still slightly afraid of the man whom he had considered an enemy until a few days ago. He rang the bell twice before the door slowly opened to reveal a significantly withered away Severus Snape. With no idea what to say in this situation, Harry nodded his head slightly and murmured his form of greeting.

"Sir."

The only reply he received was a slight inclination of Snape's hand, suggesting that he was to enter. Harry took a hesitant step into the dusty house, expecting to be hexed at any second but insistent that he shouldn't let this fear show. Luckily, Snape had other things on his mind. As Harry sat carefully on the edge of a large armchair, ready to leap up at any moment, Snape patted the pocket of his cloak and, sure enough, felt the reassuring presence of the resurrection stone. Pacing up and down the small room, out of view from Harry's seat, Severus began to talk in his smooth, terrifying voice and Harry felt like he was once again being reprimanded by a professor rather than appealed to by a man in need.

"Mr Potter, you are no doubt curious as to why I summoned you here today..."

Harry almost expected this to be proceeded by an account of his last episode of bad behaviour; if any teacher was to continue their scolding after their student had left, it would be Snape. Soon, however, it became apparent that the object of his being called upon was concerning a much different matter indeed.

"Recently I have... obtained an object... well, that is, I need your help in a matter that is out of my control."

"Anything."

Harry replied, regretting it instantly but knowing that, after all the man had done for him, this was the least he could give him in return.

"That's very... noble of you. But you must understand that speaking of this to anyone will result in..."

"What is it, sir?"

Severus was not used to being interrupted in such an impertinent way but he was aware of how indebted he would be to the boy after today and just the thought of Lily's face, smiling once again, sobered his anger instantly. Without another word, he withdrew the stone from his pocket, the cold, hard feel of it sending a shiver down his spine. Lily instantly appeared before him but it was Harry whom her eyes fell on instantly. A grin spread across her face, one he hadn't seen in so many years, one that he longed to see forever.

"See Lily, my darling, he's alive, he's well, you can be happy."

She did not seem to hear his words but Harry jumped up and turned to see the small, dark stone he had held only once in his old professor's grasp.

"Professor..."

But the man's eyes were fixed on the empty space by the door, ignoring the boy completely. Harry took one step towards him, holding his hand out even though he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Give it to me."

Despite his attempt at sounding assertive, he knew that nothing he said would convince Severus. The only option was standing outside under his invisibility cloak but, however sure he was of her capability, he was reluctant to bring his best friend into something of this calibre. She had seemed upset when she asked him to see Snape, although she wouldn't tell him why, and surely she wasn't aware of the extent of the problem. However, as cowardly as it seemed, Harry wasn't willing, no, not able, to resolve this himself and so, with one final look at the empty space where his mother supposedly stood, he gathered himself and left the dusty, unwelcoming house in search of someone who could.