Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, real or imaginary, can be passed off as us having all read the same books written by the same author, who—just in case you were wondering—is not me. This story is not for commercial use and I am not making any monetary profit from writing it.
Content Warning: A lot of characters die in this chapter. No death is graphically described.
Sowilo is brought to you by a mother's faith and sacrifice. I dedicate this chapter to Lily Potter, Alice Longbottom, and every mother who has ever had to make a sacrifice for their child's health and/or happiness, up to and including the Ultimate Sacrifice. I raise my glass, not for the Boy-Who-Lived, but the Woman-Who-Didn't.
"Read to go, Lil?"
Lily didn't respond to James' question. Instead, she looked around the foyer of the Longbottom Manor again as if trying to memorize it. Their Circle for the night had been as strong as ever—better for not including Peter like they had at Mabon and October Full Moon; more intimate with the energy flowing freely through and around them. Even Sirius, who normally treated it all with a joking mechanicalness, seemed to really feel the connection. The Black heir had actually broken down, though he vowed to deny it if they told anyone. But the high that came with a good Sabbat couldn't remove the lingering shadows of nagging certainty that had followed her all day. Seeing how Sirius had rushed off to check on Peter and looking at Alice now, Lily knew that she was not alone in the feeling that this was her last Circle.
Her feet were moving without any input from her mind as Alice came across the entry hall towards her. They met in the middle. Like magnets, they pressed their foreheads together as their fingers intertwined in a desperate grip. Magic reached for magic, seeking reassurance through the affirmation of their connection. Lily didn't know which of them started, but they were both crying softly. She felt a strong hand rubbing her back and knew that Frank must be trying to comfort them both in his own silent way.
"Don't—just don't leave," Alice begged, her breath hitching with the effort to enunciate through her tears. "You'll be safe here. Don't leave."
"You know we have to, Al," Lily said. Sorrow filled her voice even as her resolve strengthened. "In perfect love and perfect trust, sister of my heart." Alice took in a deep breath and Lily could feel the magic push into her with that breath. The desperation between the pair of witches began to ebb. Like water flowing down the tiers of a fountain, calm resolution filled both women with the promise that came directly from the Mother Herself.
"Always," Alice promised and with the ambient magic still surrounding them, it carried the weight of an Unbreakable Vow. Lily pulled away reluctantly. Somehow, despite everything—all the faith; all the trust and love—Somehow, Lily didn't want this moment to end, and the knowledge that this was the last goodbye, the last touch of magic and flesh, the last words spoken, it all weighed so heavily in her heart that the pain felt like it was almost too much for mere tears to express. She leaned in to press a kiss to her coven-sister's forehead, wishing for something profound and wise to say, something that would comfort Alice as she went forward in life. All Lily could think of was an echo of Alice's words from their equally reluctant parting following their first Circle.
"Merry met, my sister," Lily intoned, letting all her love fill her tone. "And merry part…and merry meet again."
Lily backed away from the Longbottoms, inching away by degrees. Alice squeezed her fingers just before the distance became too great to keep the contact. Lily turned, unable to bear looking at Alice's tearful face a moment longer. James stood beside the open door, Harry sleeping in his arms. James gave her a sad, knowing smile. He lifted his right hand, which had been pressed against the toddler's back, and crooked his index finger at his wife in a beckoning gesture. As if on a string, Lily obeyed. Upon her arrival at his side, they shared a sweet, lingering kiss with Harry cradled between them.
"Ready?" he queried against her lips. Unable to speak for the tears choking her, but resolved to trust, Lily nodded and let James wrap his right arm around her waist. There was a crack and a sucking tightness that Lily imagined was akin to how a shake must feel as it was sipped through a straw. It was a testament to James' skill that they landed on their front walk without stumbling. It didn't stop Harry's sleepy sound of protest, however. The little boy opened his beautiful green eyes and immediately upon seeing his mother, reached out his tiny hands. James handed him over easily. "You get him settled while I call Sirius to see how Peter is doing. Flu bugs must have been hitting early this year…"
Lily made her way up the stairs to the nursery. After a quick check of Harry's diaper, the young mother settled into the rocking chair with her son and a book. The pages turned too quickly as if to laugh at her desire to make time go slower. After setting the finished book aside, Lily lingered with her almost asleep child in her arms, moving just enough to continue the soothing rocking motion.
"Wuv Mama," Harry muttered around his thumb. Lily closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his springy hair. A single tear rolled down her cheek and down her neck. She tightened her arms around him, hugging his small frame against her chest.
"I love you, too," she returned, "so very much. Never doubt that, Harry, my son. You are my beloved child and nothing can change that. Nothing. Not even death."
There was whirlwind of magic in the nursery and Lily felt Her presence just as clearly as she ever did during a rite. The purity of that moment left her gasping. 'Oh, Goddess, is this what Alice felt all the time?' There was no room for pain, for fear, amidst the madonic joy. Tears flowed freely as she relished the feeling of chains breaking. 'Blessed Mother of All Creation, She who is the First of All and birthed the Universe, Fair Maiden of the Moon, Wise Crone of the Hearth, She who is the Spinner of the Great Wheel and Weaver of our lives, I give my life back to You who gave it to me. It is from You whence I came, and to Your Blessed Arms that I return. I surrender my will to Yours and ask only that You keep Your promise to protect the son that You blessed me with—'
"LILY! IT'S HIM—TAKE HARRY AND RUN!"
Fifteen minutes later, it was all over. Where once stood a proud little cottage serving as home to a family, there was only a smoldering ruin with a crying child. People started arriving almost immediately after a burst of green light destroyed a portion of the roof. That light, not the sickly green light of the Killing Curse, but a green so similar to the color of an oak leaf in the spring, shone like a beacon, drawing in a crowd of people, both magical and not.
Later the magical folk would raise glasses to toast the child that survived where his parents had not, the child that was whisked away from the magical world over the protests of the surviving members of a broken Circle. After about a week, even those protests were silenced.
But in the darkness of the years that followed, She remembered Her promise to one of Her faithful children.
=[=]=[=]=[=]=
Harry turned his face to the sky, letting the steady drizzle wash over him like a healing elixir. So much had changed in the last six months and if their crazy plan worked, it would end. Finally, after years of Voldemort being a very present shadow amidst the lives of everyone, it would be over. …And yet, Harry was not the same boy he was when Voldemort made his move and took over Wizarding Britain, making Harry Potter into Undesirable Number One. Harry blinked away moisture, a flutter of eyelids before giving in and letting his eyes close.
All their planning, all their training, seemed to be useless when faced with this moment in time, the moment where faith and hope were either proven true or fancies of childhood. The circle was cast now and spirits called. Dawn of the holiday approached; Beltane, the day of renewal and fertility, was about to be born. Hermione's schedule had been relentless to get them ready by this date, but hopefully…hopefully, She would smile upon them for choosing this day.
The tone circle they had chosen for today's activities was one that Harry had heard about in one of their visits to the little shop across the park from Grimmauld Place. It was in a forest that Hermione had visited when she was a child called the Forest of Dean. Hermione was very thorough with the wards she had put up around it. Unfortunately, they had made a discovery that had Hermione scribbling for days and using terms that Harry could barely follow better than the average pureblood Hogwarts student: muggle repelling charms did not work on magick practitioners. The obsession that followed was a bit fascinating to watch, even if he couldn't help much, and only ended when Lupin had shown up with his news…about Ron.
Harry had to fight the urge to hug himself as protection against the memory of that news. Infuriating, hotheaded Ron was no longer living. Rumor had apparently reached Ron's hiding place of Luna being held at Malfoy Manor. Ron planned and had pulled together other undesirables, mostly muggleborns who had gone into hiding rather than surrender themselves for registration and the possibility of Azkaban. The ragtag group had stormed the ancestral estate with a wrath only matched by their reckless bravery. No matter what House they had been in at Hogwarts, they had died Gryffindors. The thought that it had been the death that Ron would have preferred was a cold comfort to the pair of abandoned friends he had left behind.
Harry had held Hermione once more as she cried over Ron, mourning the boy he had been and the man she had seen in him. Unable to attend the public funeral, they had a private rite to mark his passing. What Ron had once called "dark magic" was used to heal Harry and Hermione's broken hearts and wounded souls. It would have been funnily ironic had they been in the mindset to appreciate such things.
Ron's death taught them both the importance of careful execution of methodical plans. That would have to do as a legacy for a life cut so short because it was the only thing the youngest Weasley son would leave behind.
Eostar had passed with only a simple rite as Hermione put the final touches on their plans. Lupin had joined in their planning and training after arriving in the middle of one of Harry's drills. The fact that Harry had almost turned the werewolf into a toasted version of himself had it not been for Hermione's deft assistance did not seem to faze Lupin in the slightest. Anything for Teddy, his wonderful son whom Lupin had declared was Harry's godson.
Life renewed and spiraled onwards.
Harry felt more than saw the lightening that signaled the approachment of the new day. He opened his eyes only to meet Hermione's gaze across the shimmering circle that surrounded them. She nodded, an imperial little bowing of her head.
It was just the two of them here in the clearing, despite the fact that their movement had grown to include all of the Order of the Phoenix (the number of which had been far greater than the few who had shown up to meetings in Harry's fifth year). Their plan called for the Order to be retaking strategic societal centers during the distraction that Harry and Hermione were going to be causing. Truly, one way or another, everything hinged upon what happened today. Either Voldemort would be vanquished or all resistance would be. Lupin had wanted to be with them when they started their distraction, but despite their best efforts these last weeks, Harry could not guarantee that he wouldn't kill Lupin accidently. It was not a risk that either teen wanted to take, not after Ron's death.
Like they had practiced, Hermione counted them into the chant that had come from the attic grimoire. They spoke in unison, words that made no sense, even after Hermione applied her prodigious translation skills. Oh, they knew what the spell did. It moved a named person or group through space to bring them before the caster. Part of their training the last few months had been mastering this spell. It was going to be the vehicle of their addition to the plan. With all the Death Eaters, including Voldemort, located in one easily reapable place, the Order should have no problem securing their objectives.
As the two teens entered the third and final repetition, Harry tried not to think about the risk they were taking. They'd have to act quickly once they had them. There must be no chance for them to sparble away from the power Harry would be unleashing on them. The Death Eaters were truly loathsome cockroaches and would hide in whatever nook and cranny they could, only for them to respawn later on down the road like a nasty cold. Harry spared the briefest of moments as the power swelled to ask the Goddess to make them successful.
With one last groan, the energy crackled like a live wire before shattering, leaving a good solid hundred people in various states of dress staring disorientated at each other. The clearing was crowded with the sheer number of them. At the center, sandwiched betwixt the two Gryffindors, was the source of all the strife, Lord Voldemort himself. Harry didn't wait for the confusion that covered the Dark Lord's face to clear nor bothered wondering why he was not in any pain. Harry acted, even as Hermione used a slicing hex from the Black Grimoire to cut the snake Voldemort called Nagini into seven bloody strips. Harry summoned the magick.
"Goddess—Mother, smite them," Harry murmured as he let loose, more to give voice to his intention than because he had to anymore. Then he was swept away by the puissance, which was titanic in its might.
Harry wished he could say that he remembered everything after that point. But to do so would have been a lie. He was left in the end with nothing more than a series of sensations and blurry images, hushed words that whispered secrets. The magick wasn't just his, he knew. From his other times in ritual space, the Boy-Who-Lived could recognize the anchoring presence of Hermione and that overwhelming aura that accepted him in ways he could not vocalize or even put to articulation.
Somewhere in that moment of darkness and light, a mother held her son and whispered a series of words to him again. Around him, people died, cooked by the heat of the energy that he was channeling, and a young woman clutched her friend tight to her, murmuring words that were between a prayer and a confession. Beneath the glory of an angry Goddess, a Dark Lord fell and a world was changed.
Then it was after.
Exhausted, but present once more, Harry fell to his knees and was sick. Hermione held his shuddering form, rubbing small circles on his back. It was silent in the circle. Even birds were quiet and still. The drizzle continued, washing away the vomit and the blood of the battle…or manslaughter, his mind helpfully provided. Battle implied a conflict that hadn't occurred. Harry's stomach clenched at the thought and he was sick again despite having nothing but bilious foam left in him.
"We should let someone know," Harry finally managed to say after a period of time that could have been hours. His words were sloppily slurred as if he was drunk and his voice was scratchy from the vomiting. Some time while they had knelt there, the drizzle had become an eager rain shower and the normal forest sounds had returned. Hermione summoned her patronus—somehow without letting him go or having her usual amount of difficulty. Its pale glow caused the water droplets to shimmer in interesting colors that held Harry mesmerized enough that he missed Hermione's order to the playful otter that dashed away. Silence returned, like an old friend.
It was just a moment, just as it was just a moment that started it all—a single prophetic moment in an otherwise abysmal interview. It was just a moment of informing a pair of witches that their sons would be endangered due to mere words believed by a madman, given to him by a momentary lapse in judgment. There was no cheering nor did trumpets sound, though elsewhere people had already begun to gather in the street to praise a teenage boy who hadn't even completed his magical education.
"She loves me," Harry announced in the stillness of his moment. Speaking the words cemented the concept in his mind and soul. It made sense, finally, what Dumbledore had tried explaining before his death, how love could be the power known not. Because that was what brought about Voldemort's demise. Lily Evans Potter had loved her son enough to fight Fate and a Dark Lord to protect him, enough to dare the impossible and make the ultimate sacrifice. It didn't matter that he hadn't understood until he had had his stolen moment in betwixt her and the Goddess she had also loved. He now knew it to be true.
"She loves me."
And in the end, isn't that the true victory?
=[=]= The End =[=]=
=[=]=[=]=[=]=
Author's Closing Remarks: When I started this story in February, I was expecting a short 2-5k story that would span at the most three chapters. Final word count is 27,808 according to my word processor and subtracting the number of words in the title. It is, to date, my longest completed work and it was completely written by the characters—I managed to finish a long piece without an outline.
Also, the Harry scene was written four times before I managed this delicate balance between the necessary exposition and the descriptive narrative. I'm still not entirely pleased with it. I wanted Harry to rake Ron over the coals and Hermione to send canaries after him again…[goes silent for a moment as she relives her favorite part of the sixth book before she shakes herself and refocuses] Oh, well, if wishes were fish, no one would starve.
So, I would like to thank everyone who have read, favorited, put on alert, and/or reviewed this story. I would also like to thank those who have done the same to me as an author. I look forward to hearing from all of you.
May the Goddess keep you all safe within Her loving embrace and the spirits walk beside you as we part ways.
Or not—as my next project is already underway and I'd love to see y'all there as well. :]
~Magi Silverwolf
)O(