Chapter 1: Play With Fire

"She didn't have a reason to go, oh no

She didn't have a reason to stay

Either way, she didn't tell anyone

By the first ray of sun, she looked at her keys

And found a reason to run

And time stands still when you're nowhere bound."

- Drive All Night by Taylor Swift

2023

A small cottage in Godric's Hollow stood rather secluded in outskirts of the town. The nearest cottage was only a field away, but seemed further. It belonged to her aunt and uncle, and it was where Lily often spent most of her summer, lying on Hugo or Rose's bed, reading Witch Weekly while Rose read or cleaned, or Hugo ranked the girls in their year for attractiveness. It was also where Lily longed to be at that moment, as she spooned a small mouthful of cereal into her mouth while her father silently read the paper across from her, a small crease between his eyebrows, his lips a thin line. The usual noises of the bustling home were somewhat absent, though the clatter of the dishes washing themselves and the tick of the clock still remained.

Lily grabbed her finished plate and put it in the sink just as Al came into the room for his own breakfast. He passed his father a smile as he helped himself to cereal. "Anything new?" he asked. Lily watched him, her eyes slightly narrowed, from the sink. Al adored his father, so much that it was almost sickening, the way they got along. Everything about him screamed fake.

"Do you even care?" she shot at him spitefully. He turned and looked at her, returning her hateful glare. He didn't seem surprised by her hatred, but she hadn't expected him to be.

"Of course I care," he said. "Unlike you, I actually have an interest in things other than myself."

"Do you? Like what, snogging Elizabeth Coldon?"

"Elizabethwho?" Harry asked, looking up from his paper at his son. Al went red, though from rage or embarrassment, Lily didn't know. She turned to her father and smirked.

"He doesn't even like her, he's just going out with her because he thinks she'll introduce him to Sarah Hartman. Isn't that where you've been sneaking off to at night? To try get a glimpse of her taking off her shirt, you little creep?" She turned back to her brother. His fists where clenched and his face was redder than before. At least, now she knew it was rage.

"Shut up, Lily," he said.

"Mwah, mwah, mwah," she teased with kissing noises, crossing her arms and pouting her lips at him. "Oh Sarah, mwah!"

"Lily, shut up!" he shouted, and in an instant he had pulled out his wand and was pointing it at her dangerously. At the same time, Harry put his paper down and stood up, ready to intervene, though he seemed confident that nothing would happen. Lily didn't flinch, but eyed the wand with caution all the same.

"Are you going to hex me?" she asked indifferently. He glared at her and she glared at his wand, as if the sheer intensity of her stare could make it burst into flames. This seemed to Harry like a good time to intervene. The newspaper article must have been particularly interesting, because he was rarely this inattentive.

"Al, put your wand down, and Lily – stop provoking your brother. Honestly, it's lucky you two aren't in the same house at school. You'd set the place on fire."

She was defeated – with a furious glance at her father, she spun on her heel, her hair flying out behind her. "I wouldn't mind setting him on fire," she mumbled as she headed up the stairs.

This didn't seem to deter her father at all, who sat down again and picked up the paper, his job apparently over. However, a moment later, he checked his watch and stood up abruptly. His eyes flickered to the window as he downed the contents of his goblet and folded his paper. "Mail!" he said as two owls appeared on the horizon, their destination obvious.

Not entirely forgiving, Lily lurked at the top of the stairs. Her need to see the Hogwarts letter overcame her anger, and she waited. Al too looked to watch the owls fly closer and closer to the window. He sipped his own goblet curiously and then rushed to let the owls in. Two spotty brown owls flew into the house, landing on the table. Al gently pulled the letters from their legs and threw Lily's aside. As she made her way to the table, her father handed it to her.

"I have to go to work," he said. He pulled on his traveling cloak. "So I'll see you tonight. Be good, ok? No more fighting." He placed a quick kiss on the top of her head, as she stared hard at her letter. She had not forgotten what came at the beginning of fifth year. From the look her father gave her as he walked away, she gathered that neither had he.

As soon as the flames engulfed him, Lily sprinted upstairs and into her room. She threw herself onto her bed and dropped the letter in front of her. She didn't want to open it, but at the same time, knew she had to. She engaged a good minute of staring, her heart thumping hard, her fingers tracing her name in the careful writing. She was almost ready to open it when a shout came from downstairs, causing her to jump.

"YES!" Al cried. There was a series of excited thumping, followed by another gleeful exclamation. A moment later, she heard footsteps and her door flew open. Al beamed at her, his eyes alight with excitement.

"What?" she asked impatiently. He was clearly bursting to tell her.

"Head boy," he said simply. Then, with a smirk, he shut the door.

Lily let her head fall onto her covers. Fuck, she thought. Head Boy. He was going to be able to boss her around, take points, do whatever he wanted…

Suddenly she felt dreadful. She picked up her letter again and tore it open viciously. Two letters fell out of it. Her heart hit the floor.

She read them anyway: one was the usual reminder that she had to go back to school on September first, and the other was the booklist. Nothing else. She put them both on her bedside table and turned onto her back.

Her room, as always, was obsessively neat. A single poster of the Dress-Robed Dragons smiled above her bed; they were a new band that she had loved since she was a child. There was no mess anywhere; in the corner, her clothes were neatly packed in their trunk, and the rest stored away in her wardrobe. Books were organized alphabetically on her bookshelves (Rose's doing – Lily wasn't that compulsive). A clean litterbox sat on the floor near her trunk for her cat, Meredith, who had spent most of the summer in the field, lazing around, only making the occasional appearance. On her bedside table were a collection of pictures, though she rarely looked at them. There was one of her grandparents on her father's side, another of Granddad and Grandma Weasley, one of all the cousins, one of her, Hugo, Rose, James and Al, one of her and Teddy, one of her, her brothers and her father. Beside her bed, there was a gaping hole where the last one was: a picture of her and her mother. She had long since thrown it into the fire, but still remembered every detail. It was night, gathering from the darkness in the window behind them, and Lily was sitting on her mother's lap as a small toddler, pointing to a picture book on her lap. Her mother was putting on expressions of surprise or pride or whatever else was appropriate for a mother when her child can correctly identify the colour blue. Occasionally she would look up and smile at Harry behind the camera.

There was a sudden commotion from downstairs and Lily bolted upright, listening hard. Soon enough, she heard coughing, followed by a "Hey Al! Lily here?"

Her stomach dropped to the core of the Earth. Hugo would have gotten it… Hugo would have assumed she'd get it… He'd be here to celebrate with her…

Sure enough, Lily heard the familiar footsteps making there way up the steps. She grabbed a pillow and threw it over her head as the door flew open.

"Lily?" Hugo asked. She groaned. Footsteps again, and then her bed bounced as he sat down. He grabbed the pillow and pulled it from her face. His crazy smile was the first thing she saw, his head surrounded by a mass of red curls. She aimed a kick as he pulled the pillow out of her reach, but he dodged. "Did you get it?" His blue eyes were alight with the same excitement she had seen in Al.

Hugo had been her best friend her whole life. Him and Rose, really, though nowadays Rose had different interests. That was probably the plus of having your parents as best friends. He was really the only person she could trust with her life. The only person she almost always wanted to see. She loved him, he loved her, and that was that. He always loved her.

"No," she mumbled. He tapped her side and she moved over to let him lie next to her. She huffed as he did so. "You did, I'm guessing?" But she didn't want to hear it. He just nodded. The smile was gone.

"Rose didn't get Head."

"Bummer," Lily said, but she hardly felt bad for her. Rose had gotten prefect, at least. "Al did."

This grabbed Hugo's attention. He turned his head to the door, like he wanted to go and talk to Al, but Lily grabbed his arm, holding him back. He lay back down, and they lay in silence for a moment, staring at her ceiling.

"Where are your parents?" she asked quietly after a while.

"Work," he answered. "They don't know," he added, answering her unasked question.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Do you plan to tell them?"

"Of course," he said. He turned his head to look at her, and she kept her gaze on her ceiling. "Are you?" he asked quietly. She didn't answer. She just stared. She imagined the best way to put it. She imagined the shame on his face. The only Slytherin in the family. Now the only child in the whole Weasley-Potter clan who had not achieved prefecture and that was saying something. She suddenly felt a deep yearning to be alone. She turned on her side, away from Hugo, and stared at the wall.

He tried to see around her face to get a glimpse of her, but the wall was getting less and less interesting, so she turned back to the ceiling and exhaled dramatically. "I might," she shrugged casually.

"Yes, you will," he said. He sounded so sure of himself; she was tempted to slug him.

"What makes you so sure?"

"How can you hide it?" he retorted. "It'll be fine. Do it quick, like ripping off a band-aid."

She got a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and saw he was biting back a smile. "If it's so easy," she said lightly, "you do it. On that note, have you told your parents about your -"

"No," he said curtly, cutting her off. A dark shadow had passed over his face, and he looked stony. Lily pulled herself up.

"Well, I'm not going to sit here and mope. Where's Rose?"

Hugo glowered. "Home. He's there."

"Oh." He referred to Scorpius Malfoy, Rose's newfound love. It wasn't really newfound – they'd been flirting all the previous year – but it was new to Lily, who had only ever known Scorpius as her brother's git of a best friend, who had never been anything but rude to her and her cousins. Rose included. The sudden turnaround had thrown both Lily and Hugo off their feet when at the end of sixth year, Rose suddenly decided he was worth her time. Hugo hated him, hence the reason he was always over at the Potters. "That rules out your place."

Hugo didn't offer a suggestion, and the two of them sat in silence, contemplating their next move. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do. But while Hugo sat and contemplated how they should spend their last week until school, Lily's mind was back at how she was going to avoid the inevitability looming ahead.

They passed the time with exploding snap, wizard's chess, and gobstones. Al joined for a bit, and then promptly disappeared – Lily had a pretty good idea of where he had gone to. By the time night had fallen and Hugo had to go home, Lily half begged him to take her too. He had denied her the honour, apologizing meekly. As he made his way across the field back to his own home, Lily glared at him. It wasn't until she felt something furry slip past her that she shut the door and picked up Meredith, her small brown cat that she had gotten when she was 11. It purred at her touch as she sat down on the couch with it, patting it softly. Her father would be home in a few hours. She wasn't surprised to see her hands shaking.

She hadn't realized how long she had been sitting there, doing nothing but petting a cat, until the door opened. Lily jumped, clinging to Meredith, who tried to jump off her lap. But it wasn't her father. It was James. He flicked his hair out of his eyes as he entered the house, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Hey!" he greeted cheerily to his sister as he shrugged off his cloak.

"I thought you weren't coming home tonight," she said. He threw himself onto the couch beside her.

"Change of plans," he said. As he spoke, he ran his hands over his face in exhaustion and frustration.

"Tough day?" she asked sympathetically.

"You have no idea," he mumbled. "Where's Al?"

She shrugged. "Dead, probably," she joked, though there was no sign of humour on her face.

"That's a terrible thing to say."

She didn't say anything else, for fear of being scolded again, but it seemed she didn't need to: a moment later, the person in question descended the stairs. He looked as excited as he had in the morning when he saw James. He was never one for subtlety. He quickly told James the news.

"The letters came?" James asked when Al had finished his recount of how he had opened the letter and seen it written there, his surprise to see the badge, his excitement when he had realized what it meant, his emotional journey of coming to terms with it. The way he spoke, it was like he had become Minister for Magic or something.

"Yep," Lily said shortly.

"That's great. Anything new for you, then?"

"No."

"That's OK. We can't all be –"

"Don't." She had said it in such a small voice, she hardly heard herself. It was no surprise that he hadn't heard either. As Al settled himself into the armchair beside them, fingering through Which Broomstick?, James continued.

"- prefect. I mean, it's great and all, but they make it sound so much better than it is. I almost regret getting it now, I didn't even need it. You won't need it. Think of it as a load off your back. You can still be Head, can't you? I mean…" James continued, though Lily was no longer listening. Every word felt almost like an ache. She regretted telling him. All she wanted at that moment was to be as far away from anybody as possible, which was rare.

"Yeah, I know," Lily snapped finally when he started going on about how terrible the Prefects' bathroom was.

"Sorry," he said, and stopped talking. For no real reason, she felt suddenly rather exhausted. Too many emotions for one day. She closed her eyes and lay her head on her brother's shoulder. Telling James had been hard, but not nearly as hard as it would be to tell her father. Again, she pictured his face, his reaction, his "oh, well, it's not the end of the world." Her stomach turned to ice again, and she tried to concentrate on her breathing. James may have sensed this, because he gently put his hand on her knee, but she flicked it off.

The answer didn't come to her until a few moments later, when she dragged herself up to her bedroom to be alone. All of a sudden, she knew what she had to do.

She grabbed her bag and started to pile it high with things she might need. She slipped her wand into her sock and pulled a brush through her hair. It was dark, the best time to do it. It wasn't easy, since her father had removed the tree that went from her window to the ground, but she'd managed before and she could manage again. It was almost second nature to her. She threw her bag over her back and pushed open the window, listening hard for sounds of her brothers coming to check on her. When she was sure the coast was clear (she could hear an animated discussion about Head Boy duties going on downstairs), she pulled her legs through the window. Sitting on the sill, she dropped herself down until her feet touched the top of the window directly below. There was hardly any space to stand, which was lucky, because she didn't need to stand. She needed to fall. She let go of her own window and jumped.

She landed on her feet with a dull thud. With a quick look behind her, she started to walk across the field. An invisibility cloak would have come in useful, she thought. But her father needed it for all his missions and duties, even though he rarely went on many missions anymore. She broke into a run about halfway through the field, right up until she reached the cottage across the way.

This was phase two, as she always called it. It was easier than phase one, no doubt, which was getting out of her own house. She approached the large tree beside the house, gripped its branches, and started to climb. It wasn't until the third sturdy branch that she stopped and sat on it comfortably. The window it sat beside was closed, but she could clearly see into it. The light was on. It almost blinded her at first, since she had spent such a while in the dark in the field.

Hugo was lying on his bed, a book in his hand, a quill in the other. He didn't seem to notice the small girl peering in at him until she rapped on the window softly. He jumped and dropped his quill, before coming over hurriedly and opening the window for her.

"What are you doing?" he said. As he spoke, he shot a quick look behind him at the door.

"I need your help," she whispered back hurriedly.

"What?" Realization dawned on him as he saw the bag on her back. "No. Not again?"

"I'll be fine. I need you to cover for me."

"Remember what happened last time?" he whispered, like they were discussing forbidden topics. She smiled.

"Relax, OK? I know what I'm doing."

"Is this because of the Prefect thing?" She pulled some hair out of her eyes and avoided his gaze without answering. "Bit cowardly, don't you think?" he added.

"No. Now are you going to help me?"

"Help you run away? Not likely."

"Good. How long did it take them last time?"

"Two days."

"Best make it three then."

"Do you wanna tell me where you're going?" Hugo said. "If something happens…"

She put a finger to her lips, and he fell silent. "Ignorance is bliss. Nothing will happen." She winked, and started to descend the tree.

"Do you know what you're going to do? Where'll you go?"

"As far away from here as possible," she shrugged. "With any luck, the knight bus might pick me up." And with that, she jumped from the tree and headed off into the night.

On the other side of town, a woman stood in ten feet from her house, a mobile phone pressed to her ear. She was nodding and smiling into it as she spoke. She was entirely alone, though there was the occasional bang or giggle from inside her cottage, where her sister was playing with her young son.

"Of course I miss him, Dad," the woman said, "But it's too late to go back now, isn't it? I can't just undo everything, though I wish I could. When all this is over, I'll come home to you. Yes, with Richie – No, Dad, Theo can't reach us there. I'm sure of it, OK? I won't let him. Please, I just need your support here, this is hard enough without you riling at me. I'm staying with Stella for the time being, but I can't tell you where. I'm so sorry. I'll speak to you soon. I love you. Look after yourself. Bye." She closed the phone and put it back in her pocket, ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

A moment later, a woman popped her head out the door. "Are you coming, Gen?" he called.

"I'll be there in a second, Stella!" the woman, Gen, called back. She listened for the door to close and turned back.

Her eyes scoured the small village where her sister lived, though it didn't seem so small anymore. Stella had said that it was so much smaller before all these famous families moved there – families Gen had never heard of, like Potter and Weasley. "They're like royalty, you have no idea," Stella had said. The village now was rather large, with houses spreading out for miles and miles, and a population of nearly 1000, all of them as magic as Stella. They all dressed rather curiously, but it didn't occur to anybody that men wearing robes in public would be weird. Stella's home, which Gen had recently moved into with her son, was not in the middle of the village, luckily. In fact, it was quite out of the way. Gen was grateful for this; her home inLondon was always very busy, with noise at every second. It was nice to hear herself think. If she was magic, she wouldn't have minded living there.

Soon, she would have to go back in. She would go back and put her son to bed, have some tea with her sister, sign more divorce papers. But for now, she had these solitary moments of peace, and she was going to enjoy them.

A rustle in the trees nearby stopped Gen's heart. She stood completely still, her breathing ragged, listening. No more sounds came. She relaxed slightly. Just an animal, she told herself. Stella had a cat, she was sure that was it. But something still unnerved the woman, and she was about to turn around and head back inside when a man stepped out of the shadows of the trees.

The man was about six foot tall, and was skinny and lanky, and so very familiar that she felt her heart drop. Though his face was obscured by the shadows, she knew his body well. And she knew enough not to fight when he raised his wand, pointed it at her, and hissed, "Fiendyre."

The first thing Lily saw was the fire. After about twenty minutes of walking at least, she was growing bored and tired, and slightly hungry. She wondered if anybody missed her yet, and passed the time by imagining their reactions. This could only be done so many times though, and she was almost desperate for company. Any company. She found herself wishing she'd brought Meredith with her.

That was, of course, until the great burning light caught her eye. At first, she thought it was a bonfire. She smiled, picking up the pace, changing course for the bonfire. Maybe there would firewhiskey – her father never let her have it at home, but when she had it at parties, it was beautiful – and maybe there would be heaps of people, and food, and music. But then she heard a scream.

It wasn't a soft scream either. It was the kind of scream that send chills down your spine, that makes dogs bark, that makes your heart thump and your blood turn cold and your ears hurt. Like someone was going through torture.

She started to run at the fire, propelled by ear-splitting screams. As she drew closer and the light drew brighter, another scream joined it. She was approaching trees now. She ran through them, the fire so close, yet so far, still indistinguishable. The screams were so loud she almost didn't hear the footsteps that fell into step with hers as she ran through the thick trees.

Almost. She stopped short, holding her breath, listening hard, though shrieking was the only thing that filled her ears. Until –

"Morsmordre!"

A man stood, not ten feet from her, holding his wand high above his head. His silhouette against the firelight was the only thing she could make out. He seemed to be staring at something in the sky. He hadn't noticed her, and Lily didn't dare move an inch. The man dropped his arm, looked around, right past Lily, and then ran in the opposite direction. Only then did Lily choose to look up at the sky.

In the sky, green clouds had formed an eerie skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. She couldn't help herself; a hand flew to her mouth as she let out a scream to match those around her. She knew that mark.

Instantly, she started to run. She wasn't sure where, but she let the bright fire light guide her. As she stumbled out of the forest and saw the scene ahead of her, her own screams joined the rest.

In front of her, writhing in unbearable pain, was a woman. Her entire body was up in flames, her skin raw and blistered, and in some parts blackened and dead. She was completely bald, with only select patches of dark, burnt hair, which seemed to burn before Lily's eyes. Her eyes were shut, but her mouth was open, emitting the loud screams Lily had heard before. Kneeling beside her, screaming and crying, was another woman, who looked slightly older, with black, long hair. She had her wand pointed at the woman on the ground and another hand covering her mouth. Out of the wand threw jets of water that seemed to fall off the flames, doing nothing to diminish them. Her eyes darted upwards to see the sign in the sky, and fresh tears fell, but she had clearly seen it when it had first been cast, because she didn't look at all surprised. A young boy cried at the doorway to a cottage, watching the scene before him.

The woman looked up to see Lily there. "Help me!" she shrieked at the top of her voice, as sobs racked her body and her wand hand shook. Lily fumbled to pull her own wand out of her sock and pull off her bag from her back, leaving at the edge of the forest, and with a shaking hand pointed it at the woman on fire. But she'd never learnt a single spell to help with this. She had no idea what to do. She looked wildly at the woman, silently asking for help, because she had no idea what to do.

At that moment, the neighbours in a cottage nearby suddenly came out, running at the women with their wands out. A middle aged man and his wife fell out of their house, staring with wide eyes at the woman on fire. Instantly both of them started to produce jets of water from their wands.

"The Aurors are on their way!" he called over the woman's screams. "As are the mediwizards! Aguamenti!"

A jet of fire to match those of his wife and the other woman shot from his wand at the woman. "COME ON! AGUAMENTI!" But the water did nothing to the flames. The man swore under his breath, still producing water. Lily raised her own wand, whispering the incantation (she tried to say it – no sound came) but nothing happened. She gripped her wand tighter, wiping tears off her cheeks, and kept her gaze at anything but the woman on fire. But it was like blocking out the sun. And she was still screaming. And the woman was still crying and screaming, and the neighbour, and, as Lily looked around, new neighbours were running from their houses. The young child had been ushered inside by someone. Almost all of them looked pale and terrified in the glow of the fire. Some were crying. They all had their wands out, all of them shooting water at the woman. It did nothing, but that didn't deter them. Lily stared at her own wand meekly, feeling helpless and strangely cold. No matter how many times she said the incantation, her wand produced nothing. Maybe she was shaking too much, or maybe it was because she couldn't use her voice and it was a miracle she was still standing and conscious, but whatever it was, it was preventing her from helping this woman, who was no longer screaming, but still writhing, and Lily could swear, when she allowed herself a glimpse (that caused a fresh sob to escape from her), that tears were falling from the woman's eyes.

And then, as suddenly as Lily had seen them, they died down. And almost at once, Lily wished they had not.

All that was left was a smoking body. The woman was not moving. There was no skin visible: it was all blackened, or red and blistered. Lily had never seen anything so awful. She could hear the collective sobs of everybody around her. The only person screaming was the woman beside the charred body, who was sobbing and screaming over the dead woman. Lily couldn't look. She was going to be sick. A disgusting smell, like burning rubber and flesh, reached her nose just as someone conjured a blanket out of thin air and laid it over the body. Lily sprinted to the edge of the forest and threw up into a thicket of bushes.

When she turned around again, most people had scattered fearfully. She could hear the distant slam of doors and the click of bolts. Few remained. Some were simply sobbing in the shadows. The man from next door and his wife were both kneeling beside the covered body. The black-haired woman was sobbing into the wife while the man held his wand over the body and muttered incantations, occasionally looking up at the Dark Mark with a worried expression. Nobody spoke. People were looking around, waiting for the Aurors.

The Aurors. Lily had only managed to make it a few steps towards the body when someone walked by and started to strangle her. Or perhaps they had not; it felt like they did. As the impact of what she had just witnessed and what was to come bore down on her, she felt her knees give way under her. She fell with unusual grace, managing to stay upright by landing on her wrists. The incantations continued, as did the sobbing, and the occasional scream. In the fog that was her mind, she wondered where the child was.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and buried her head in her knees. She threw one arm over her head, protecting her, while another held her knees into her chest, keeping her together. And like that she stayed for what felt like days, but was probably only just minutes. She sobbed into her knees, quiet, uncontrollable sobs that racked her body and joined in with the sobs of the few around her. Images flashed in her mind. Her eyelids were still bright red when she closed her eyes, like the fire was right in front of her. The woman writhing. The flesh falling off like wax. The burned, charred body afterwards. The way the water rebounded. The screams. The sobs. The helplessness.

How long she stayed like that, she couldn't be sure. It seemed years later that she heard cracks all around her, but it was probably only seconds. There was a commotion, so loud against the quiet she had just experienced that Lily lifted her head and looked around.

About twelve Aurors had Apparated around the scene. She couldn't make out their faces in the darkness, but the eerie green glow from the Dark Mark that still burned in the sky cast upon them, and she could see their silhouettes. The light from the windows in the houses shed light on the scene too, though a part of Lily wished she was in darkness. Mediwizards and witches were gathered around the body, obscuring it from outside view. Lily tried to peer in through their legs, and regretted it instantly as the blanket slipped slightly, displaying a piece of blackened flesh on the scalp. She shut her eyes again, and only used her ears.

"Put her over here, we'll need to have a look at her," someone said. The voice was vaguely familiar, which was strange because in her haze of a mind, nothing felt familiar.

"Come on, you have to let her go, there's nothing you can do for her now... that's it, come on, we'll get you some tea… I need you to talk to us…"

"Did you see what happened, sir?"

"Do you know who cast that, ma'am?"

There was the occasional scuffle, cry, scream, retch, gasp. Lily was glad she was in the shadows of the trees and would not be seen, or noticed. She could not answer questions. She could not speak. She could hardly move.

"Wow, this was dark."

"Cursed fire… look at the burns, the tracks… that's awful."

"Nobody saw him? Ma'am, you need to stop crying. Nobody saw him? Are you sure?"

A whispered answer, punctured occasionally by a hiccough, followed. Lily listened, but there was no sound of her father anywhere. She dared to lift her head.

Three mediwizards and two Aurors were beside the house, crouched over something she could not see, but was sure was the body. Another Auror sat in a fold out chair in front of the woman with black hair, who was hysterical. Scattered about, Aurors were talking to witnesses, their quills scratching on parchment in midair beside their heads. Those who weren't being questioned were standing unsteadily on their feet, crying or otherwise staring into the sky above them. There was no sign of her father.

Suddenly there was another crack from not far away, and, as though Lily had summoned him, her father appeared on the other side of the crime scene. Beside him, a few moments later, other wizards Apparated to the place. They had cameras around their necks and were observing the scene like they had just seen a feast. They quickly conferred with her father, who Lily watched with both trepidation and relief, and then set off to photograph various aspects. Harry made his way to the body first, muttering quietly to the Aurors already surrounding it, and then turned his head to stare at the sky. He stared for a very long time.

Lily had never seen her father in his work environment like this. She had been to his work plenty of times, and sat at his desk, and watched him zoom paper airplanes into the air and receive ones from other people. She had seen his being lazy or getting through paperwork, but she had never been allowed to see him on a mission. None of his children had. And in all honesty, it was rather scary.

Finally, after an exhaustive mental battle and strenuous effort, Lily decided to pull herself to her feet. She struggled to stay there, once up, but managed. Nobody noticed or even looked her way. If she could just back up…

With careful footsteps, almost unheard over the sound of the commotion underway, Lily managed to back herself up until she had reached the forest. Her fingers felt for the nearest tree, and once she found it, she immediately fell back onto it, letting it support the weight her feet would not. She didn't realize she was still crying until she felt her cheeks were rather wet. She quickly wiped them off, but as she did so, remembered why they were there in the first place. And thus started the cycle again.

She kept her eyes on her father. He was looking around again, pulling out his wand and muttering, 'Lumos.'. He asked a man some questions, but seemed to get no answers. But she couldn't stay, she couldn't be caught. She couldn't think, but she understood enough that being seen here would raise too many questions. She fumbled around and finally found her bag a few feet from where she stood. Carefully, she threw it onto her back and reversed into the forest, letting the noise of the crime cover her footsteps, until she was far enough to disappear into it and break into a run.

Hello, thank you for reading.

That is all.

I love you.

Love, me.