An Iron Will
Cokeworth. England.
I could sense it all.
I always could. Not sensing
things in the traditional way, mind you. This was something more intimate.
It was like an invisible net around me that only I could sense. When things were inside it, I could see how they felt.
I saw them in ways not even their parents or lovers saw them. I saw them how a scientist saw bacteria.
Evolution. A life lived. Thousands of years of heritage passed on. Minute changes. A ripple effect echoing throughout the ages. A life well spent.
He was here again.
An old man sat in the corner of the house with a downward cast. He was always downwards.
Occasionally, he would startle out of his revery when a bird chirped, his grandchildren ran too fast, or mother offered him another pot of tea.
Otherwise, he sat sad and polite. Gazing out of the window towards the rolling lawn but never at the lawn.
No, he was looking at something beyond.
Lily summoned the web around her and pushed it towards him. Then it her.
A piercing whistle sounds through the air.
An order roared and men scrambling for cover.
An explosion tears through the foxhole. Men are injured. Blood and guts are all over.
Men are injured.
Men are dying.
Men are dead.
A headcount ensues. The man is alive and whole. He lets out a few tears of joy. He glances around.
A body with no half. He removes the dog tags. It was him.
Memories engulf him. Two boys racing through the same lawn on Sunday morning. A vow to always be best best friends.
A vow broken. A soul lost. A brother dead.
The man clutches the dog tags and weeps openly.
Lily was unsatisfied. This wasn't something new. She had always seen this whenever the old man was here.
In her heart of hearts, she knew there was something deeper in his gaze. She had once asked her mother if she knew what was wrong with grandpa.
Child, some truths are better left uncovered. A good woman never pries too deeply.
In her rare moments of friendship with her sister, Petunia had told her something else.
Well behaved women rarely make history baby sister. Be naughty!
Ambition was something she had never lacked. She had the power.
What was the point of power if she never used it? Let it go to waste? Pfft.
So, she expanded her web and pushed deeper.
Bullets fired in their hundreds. Men roaring. Men charging.
A fox in desert. An unrelenting march of storm and steel. The fox pushed them all the way back.
Massive explosions. Scorching days. Freezing nights.
And the visions got darker.
Firebombs descended on the city. They wanted a war. They will bloody well get one!
They will face its hideousness head on.
An empire of a thousand years stood gleaming, proud, and tall.
An eagle riddled with bullet holes crashes on a marble floor.
A swastika burns in fires of revenge.
Vengeance.
Lily screamed and clutched her head; this was too much. But the visions were merciless, and she couldn't pull the web back.
Bodies lay in their thousands.
Stacked on top of each other. Like lambs, they had been led here for extinction.
Vermin, corrupt, traitors, unclean- they had called them.
His heart shattered seeing this altar of evil.
He wept. He wept angrily.
A rifle clutched. The cold wood reassuring in his head.
I was only following orde-
BANG!
A body falls. The scum is dead.
Justice.
Her mother had wrapped her hands around her in a desperate bid to calm her down. She didn't know what had gotten into her daughter.
There was one final revelation for Lily.
Victory at all costs!
Lily gasped and felt her heartbeat return to normal. She looked up and her grandfather was looking straight at her.
He didn't say a word, but Lily could feel the message.
I know.
Hogwarts. Sixth Year.
Lily Evans.
The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows upon the stone walls.
Cloaked in darkness, she stood alone, her green eyes gleaming with determination.
Mechanical clanks echoed throughout the room. Her robotic enemies readied themselves for combat.
The air crackled as she danced between covers, her movements fluid and precise. Spells erupted like fireworks; each strike punctuated with a surge of energy.
Like a ballerina, she swiftly moved between covers. A whispered incantation and invisibility cloak her.
The constructs are confused and search the room for her. They are not even close to finding her.
She smirks and like a ferocious tigress, pounces at them from the shadows. Spells strike with them ruthless accuracy and they crumble into stone and wood.
Sweat streamed down her face, mingling with her smirking arrogance and short breaths as she admired the wreckage she had wrought.
A gusp of wind catches her attention and she sees shadows melding together.
A phantom construct materialized before her, draped in shadowy robes and wielding a sinister, white-glowing wand.
Panic gnawed at her heart as she recognized the handiwork was not her own.
The phantom wasted no time, launching a swift attack. Surprise mingled with anger as she deflected the onslaught. The phantom proved formidable; his spells left her with bruises despite ringing on her shield.
It is strong. I am faster.
She moves behind the phantom and quickly launches a barrage of her own spell fire. A rune places itself on the ground below her. The Phantom chases after.
A fatal mistake.
The rune explodes and the phantom falls as it no longer had legs.
Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a torrent of flames that engulfed him, reducing him to ashes.
Relief washed over her like a gentle breeze, and she exhaled a shuddering breath.
A proud clapping echoed through the darkened hallway. H
er heart skipped a beat as she spun around, wand at the ready.
There stood Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with amusement. She lowered her wand, a mixture of surprise and dread filling her.
She nodded at him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I... I thought I was alone."
He smiled warmly. "Carry on, my dear. Just remember to heed curfew next time."
With a nod of gratitude, she watched as he disappeared around the corner, leaving her to her clandestine sanctuary once more.
She took a moment to steady her racing heart, then returned to her practice, the memory of her duel with the phantom serving as a reminder of the challenges that awaited her.
Headmaster's Office.
7th Year. 3 days before graduation.
Lily Evans. Albus Dumbledore.
War seems to be following her.
It was like a haunting specter that never let her be.
As the head girl, she saw its consequences more frequently than most.
She wrapped her arms around a second-year girl as she hysterically cried on her shoulder.
She was not the first she had consoled, nor will she be the last. At this point, it had become a routine for her.
And Lily had grown numb to it.
The girl's parents had been aurors and closely associated with the infamous Mad-Eye Moody.
The Dark Lord had taken umbrage to their existence and paid them a visit in the dead of night.
The girl's aunt had found her crying hysterically over the serenely asleep corpses of their parents.
Lily had heard some whisper that the kid had been lucky. The Dark Lord had made it quick.
Apparently, the dark lord got his jollies off seeing his pet snake feed upon struggling victims.
Her eyes narrowed. Visions of a similar man in another world came into her mind.
The world too had ignored his madness until it was too late.
Visions of a fire-bombed Dresden, court trials of Nuremberg, executions, and social change echoed in her mind.
The mad man wanted a war, didn't he? She will show him what total war looks like.
She retracted her "web" from the girl, pawned her to the new perfect, and marched off.
She had a date with destiny.
"Lily," Dumbledore began, his voice filled with concern, "you must understand the risks involved. Voldemort is a formidable adversary. You are merely eighteen years old, and the path you seek is treacherous. There are other avenues you can explore, options that offer a measure of safety and a chance at a normal life."
Lily's lips tightened into a firm line, her gaze never wavering. "Professor Dumbledore, with all due respect, I cannot sit idly by while others sacrifice everything to fight against the darkness that threatens us all. I want to be on the front lines, to protect those who cannot protect themselves."
Dumbledore's lined face wore a troubled expression as he regarded the young witch before him.
"Lily, I understand your passion, your desire to make a difference," Dumbledore replied, his voice tinged with regret. "But I implore you to consider alternatives. Travel to America or France, where the fighting is less intense. There, you could still contribute to the cause without facing the immediate danger that lurks within our own borders."
A flicker of anger flashed across Lily's eyes; her voice edged with frustration as she countered Dumbledore's suggestion. "Professor Dumbledore, forgive me for my bluntness, but did you sit idly by and watch as Grindelwald tore through Europe in the 1940s? Did you opt for a safer alternative then, or did you face him in what they called the 'duel of the century'?"
A memory of another time. Long hours preparing under Nicolas. While others mocked him for being afraid to fight Grindelwald, he prepared in the night. He would have only shot at stopping him. Better make it count.
"Well Lily if you are so concerned, have you considered enlisting in the Auror Corps?" Dumbledore drily remarked, still sensitive at the Grindelwald business.
"The Ministry's efforts are feeble at best. They are corrupt, too bound by bureaucracy to effectively combat a threat like Voldemort. I refuse to entrust the safety of my loved ones to their ineptitude."
Feeling that her conversation was leading nowhere, Lily revealed her trump card.
"You know, Professor Dumbledore, I'm not as oblivious as you might think. I know about the Order of the Phoenix."
Dumbledore's demeanor changed. He was no longer playing the indulging grandfather.
"Is that so, Miss Evans?" Dumbledore said.
A mischievous smile played on Lily's lips as she continued, her tone filled with certainty. "During my fifth year, when I stumbled upon the Room of Requirements, I sensed peculiar spatial distortions in the mail room. And we both know that only a phoenix's teleportation can cause such distortions. It was you who told me about the room, wasn't it?"
"You might say that, but I couldn't possibly comment." Dumbledore said.
Unperturbed by his noncommittal response, Lily pressed on, her voice unwavering. "In my sixth year, I sought access to the forbidden section of the library to study charms more deeply. It was heavily guarded, yet I distinctly felt your presence there, Professor. You were testing my curiosity, weren't you?"
Dumbledore didn't respond. Lily took this as her cue to press on.
Lily's voice held a note of satisfaction as she revealed her final piece of evidence. "And in my seventh year, when Severus Snape was hounding me relentlessly, it was you who leaked the location of Snape's gang, allowing me to spy on them. You wanted to test me against a junior Death Eater. I knew it was you, Professor, because the letter you used was tinged with a drop of lemon candy. Your favorite."
A trace of a smile tugged at Dumbledore's lips, a mixture of amusement and admiration. "You are a perceptive young witch, Miss Evans. Your instincts serve you well."
Lily's gaze locked with Dumbledore's; "So, Professor, why keep this training hidden? Instead of operating in the shadows, why not bring it out in the open?"
Dumbledore let a sigh escape him. He had feared this day was coming. He had just hoped the trend had started with somebody other than Lily. He removed his moon spectacles, leaned forward and faced Lily.
"Once you involve yourself with the Order of the Phoenix, there will be no turning back. You will be marked as a target, forced to confront the darkest aspects of evil. Are you truly prepared for the sacrifices and dangers that lie ahead?"
"I understand the risks, Professor. I am ready to face the darkness and fight for what I believe in. No matter the cost."
In that moment, a mixture of pride and concern washed over Dumbledore.
He recognized the fire burning within Lily, the unwavering resolve that had brought her to his office. It was like what he had done an age ago.
It was a spark that he had seen in so few, and it filled him with both hope and apprehension.
Celebration Hall.
London.
The graduation was a pompous affair.
The air buzzed with excitement and a hint of intoxication.
Graduates gathered, their laughter filling the air as declarations of eternal friendship were professed, hopeful of continued bonds in the corporate world that awaited them.
Lily Evans, her heart brimming with pride, reveled in the momentous occasion. Having achieved the pinnacle of academic success, graduating at the top of her class with honors, her joy was further amplified by Dumbledore's agreement to mentor her.
She had signed off on all the necessary disclosures and magically binding agreements. Dumbledore had warned her to brace herself for pain and rigor. She snorted.
She was supremely confident in her abilities.
She stood on the balcony for a while, drink swiveling in her hand. The party inside had gotten a bit too heated for her and she needed to let the sauce insider her settle.
Besides, this was the only place from any Marauders centric mischief.
"Lovely evening" A voice remarked and settled on her side.
A balding man what appeared to be in his mid-40s wearing a sleek muggle suit came into Lily's view.
"I suppose it is." Lily said and took a sip out of her drink.
Not many middle-aged visited festivities such as this.
"Are you an alumnus or a friend of a graduate?" Lily inquired, trying to overcome the awkward pause.
"No Ms. Evans, I am neither of those things. I am what you can call, the consequences of one's actions."
Lily narrowed her eyes and subtly gripped her wand,
"I don't believe we have met." Lily said.
Who the fuck are you?
"If you are interested in how I know you Miss. Evans, its because its my job to know things." He replied and turned to face her.
"But if you must, please call me Croaker."
A wand tip pressed itself on her neck, an electric current surged through her.
Lily Potter's world went dark as two burly men grabbed her by the arms and carried her off.
Croaker spotted a pensive Dumbledore observing the scene from afar.
He raised a champagne glass to him in a mock salue and apparated away.
Unknown Blacksite.
England.
Lily awakened with a gasp.
A pounding headache chipped at her as she tried to gauge her surroundings.
She was tied to a chair in her birthday suit with no wand in sight.
A torrent of emotions flooded her.
Had the Death Eaters finally gotten to her? Was it Severus trying to present as a trophy to his Lord?
A voice broke through the silence.
A test of your will, Lily.
Ah, so this is it.
And then the ministrations began. The objective was simple, renounce Dumbledore and the pain will cease.
Her captors were not so simple.
Every day she was forced to endure a barrage of spells fired from the shadows around her.
Electric shocks tore at her nerves.
Phantoms brutalized her with harsh punches. Invisible whips tore at her flesh.
Some days the room grew too cold, and she could hear her teeth clatter.
On other days, the room grew insanely hot. Leaving her sweating from every pour and delirious.
Food was rare. Water was rarer. It was then the ordeal grew more sinister.
Her mind was pitted against her will.
In the dark she saw monstrous spiders looking at her. Their many eyes sizing her up as a meal.
Then they attacked. Tearing at her body in a bid to satiate their endless hunger.
She saw lecherous men approaching to take advantage of her. A step too far for Lily.
Fools
Her mind's web expanded, and the man's brain started to incinerate the moment he locked eyes with her.
The man fell and the room came to light.
The hidden door opened, and mages poured in. They went to work on her and the mystery man.
Lily felt her wounds start to heal and saw the man in the muggle suit approach her.
Croaker.
"This is nothing compared to what Voldemort will do if you are captured." He remarked and turned.
"Prepare yourself for the next phase!" Croaker said as he exited the room.
Her wounds were healed, but not enough that she forgot her pain.
A standard witches robe had been given to her.
She was in a blank room with white walls and a blackboard. They were expected to sit down.
A large mirror on the opposing wall faced them and Lily saw her appearance for the first time.
Gaunt was putting it mildly.
Dark eye shadows surrounded her. Her skin was thin and bruised all over.
There were others. Lily had always assumed she would be the only candidate.
More the merrier, I suppose.
She spotted another man sitting in a corner. He looked familiar.
James?!
James Bloody Potter was sitting hunched over on a desk. Painful moans escaped him at infrequent times.
His condition was like Lily's. No doubt he had undergone the same torture training trial as she did.
Through bloody lips he painfully smiled at her when recognition set in
My father. Those murderers killed my father. I won't spare them.
The instructor barged in, and lesson commenced. A masked no nonsense man who simply introduced himself as Omega started the lecture.
The first lesson was on defensive potion making.
They covered poison cures, how to counter hallucinogens, potency of aerosol vs liquid dispersal, common potions used by death eaters, and how to resist truth potions.
So far so good.
As the lessons progressed, Lily's initial wariness began to dissipate. She found herself growing a soft spot for James, despite the stark transformation that had reduced him to a whimpering shell. It was an odd camaraderie born from their shared hatred of Voldemort.
Their conversations, often whispered in hushed tones during breaks, became moments of solace amidst the chaos. Together, they navigated the trials, pushing each other to their limits and offering unwavering support in the face of adversity.
In the depths of their training, Lily discovered that beneath James' broken exterior, there still flickered remnants of the charismatic wizard she had known.
Their shared experiences, their shared determination to confront Voldemort and protect those they loved, forged an unbreakable bond.
Unspeakable H.Q.
To be an unspeakable one had to unspeakable things.
Captain Lily had always maintained that world view. After all, her boss Croaker had agreed with it.
13 had made it through the training including James. She did make sure of that. 13 Unspeakable willing to do what the cowards in the Auror or Justice department failed to do.
13 members of the wizarding world's finest and brightest. There was a ragtag group of fanatics, Muggleton, purebloods, adventurers, & plan old justice seekers.
To the outside world, Lily and James were merely junior prosecutors in the Justice department.
At night, in the cover of shadows, they raided hideouts, burnt laboratories, and captured Death Eaters.
A group made to fight fire with fire. A group of people dedicated to making sure Death Eaters slept with one eye open.
After all, many in the wizarding world were forced to do the same over fear of Death Eater attacks.
Victory at all costs was their motto.
However, Captain Lily was of an alternate view. Eye for an Eye, Blood for Blood – suited them better.
Croaker had shot down the idea but screw him. The lads viewed Lily as one of them more than any Dumbledore implant in their organization.
Sure, they coordinated with the Order on many issues.
Inferi control? Check.
Preventing human sacrifice rituals? Check.
Stopping dark creatures from crossing into their world? Check and check!
But their meekness always frustrated Lily. The Order had far greater numbers than they did but they preferred to react rather than act.
Enraged at their aggressive attacks, Voldemort had responded in kind. Dumbledore's spies had reported that the Dark Lord was abroad. His location unknown.
They needed to draw him out. And draw him out they did. With a dozen death eaters in lockup and dozens more six feet below, his conquest of England had drawn to a grinding halt.
The mad man had devastated Diagon Alley in response. Just last week he had set fire to Gringotts and massacred an auror team sent after him.
He hadn't even spared her parents. Some leak in the ministry had revealed her private data. Voldemort had their house set on fire. Lily endured it all with cold grace. Her crew looked up to her.
She couldn't appear weak.
Victory at all costs was needed.
A morose James approached her and saluted. She raised an eyebrow at his expression, and he simply handed her a message.
Attack at Longbottom manor. Condition Critical. Lestrange sited in the area.
All color left her face at the last sentence.
Lestrange.
"James, are they alive?" Lily asked in a monotone. Her occlumency in full force lest she break down.
"Yes, Captain." James replied in a similar monotone.
"Thank Merlin" She whispered, and a relieved sigh left her.
She noticed James was still looking at her with the same dull expression. Annoyance surged through and spat out.
"What!"
"Captain, I think you should come with us to St. Mungos. The situation is a lot more complicated." James said and offered her jack to her.
Victory at all costs.
She took another swing of her drink.
The headache ate at her, but she didn't care.
No amount of future hangover pain would compare to what Voldemort had inflicted on them.
Poor Alice. Sweet Alice.
It would have been better if Voldemort had just killed them and gotten over it.
2 hours of Cruciatus Curse, Captain. They have permanent brain damage. There's nothing we can do.
She had visited them in the hospital. Lily had begged them for a response, but they had just stared blankly at her.
You were more of a sister to me than that wretch Petunia ever was. And now you are gone.
"Lily, I think you've had enough," James said softly, his voice laced with both sympathy and worry.
She didn't sense him coming. She didn't care. It was all over for her.
"I miss her, James," Lily whispered, her voice trembling. "Alice was more than a partner. She was like the sister I never had."
James placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a comforting presence. "I know, Captain. Losing someone you care about is never easy. And sometimes, the ones we choose become our true family."
Lily leaned back in her chair, contemplating his words. Alice had been there for her through thick and thin, a steadfast presence when her own sister had drifted away.
They had stood together, not just as colleagues, but as friends. They had endured battles.
Fought back-to-back against hordes of filth, evil, and corruption.
"Was this our reward, James? We fight back-to-back against filth and for what? Have others condemned us?" Lily said.
She took another swing and continued.
"Have our own mentors shackle our wands? Give more rights to criminal scum than we give to their victims?" Lily spat out.
James remained silent. He had no answer.
"The Dark Lord tramples out life every time he leaves his house. And the ministry and the Order is here worrying if we slapped the last death eater too hard. If our surveillance was too thorough and violated any rights. This is a fucking war, what they hell they think this is?! A quidditch cup?"
"Come now, Captain. They are fighting the war in their own way." James said.
Lily merely glared at his mea culpa and said nothing.
"Something I think this is in my DNA. This weakness." Lily said.
"Weakness? Captain you are the strongest person I know." James replied.
Lily snorted.
"Aren't you a cute little charmer?"
"I am just being honest here Captain."
"My grandfather fought the in last great muggle war. The circumstances were very similar to what we deal with here. He too couldn't get over himself. The man was pitted against the Waffen SS. He too could never get over himself with what he had to do."
James stared owlishly at her. Not sure where this conversation was going.
"This weakness is genetic. We always sought approval from others. Always thinking others to be wiser than us. Meanwhile, the said others, Dumbledore, and his ilk. The ministry and their cronies. They always used people like us so they won't have to get their own hands dirty." Lily said.
Lily took a mighty sip from her glass, emptied it in one go, and slammed it into the table.
"No more James. No more. From tonight, we go on the true offensive." Lily said.
"I have no doubt that you will lead us to victory, Captain." James said.
Lily drunkenly laughed at this and slurred.
"You keep talking like that, and I will have to bend you over the table noble boy."
"Whatever you need from me, Captain." James replied with a cheeky grin.
"Pervert" She said and seemingly focused.
"Tell me, James, did you do the thing I asked you about? Operation Vision?"
"Yes, Captain. A tip off has revealed the location of Severus Snape. Also, we have located a seer. Trelawney is her name."
"Excellent." Lily said.
"Know this James, I take no pleasure in what we are about to do. This coup is a necessary evil." Lily said.
"Yes, Captain." James said.
"Have you located the lightning rod?" Lily inquired.
"Yes Captain, A 6th year Ravenclaw. Too much partying for her own good. She was really glad when we offered to take the boy of her hands and not inform her parents. Lightning rod is in place." James said.
Lily nodded.
"I do have another piece of good news Captain."
Lily raised her eyebrow.
"Perenelle Flamel has finally agreed to meet us."
Lily smile truly bloomed, and she laughed.
In that moment, James would have sacrificed a thousand boys to have that smile for himself one day.
Life was a war. The stakes were at their highest.
Winner Takes All.
Unknown. Somewhere South of France.
Perenelle Flame & Lily Evans.
Lily nervously shifted as the woman stared unblinkingly.
While Lily was absolutely confident in her sexuality, something about Perenelle made her nervous.
She wanted to get on her knees, confess all her sins at the woman's side. Ask her for forgiveness. Beg for her approval.
Tangerine eyes stared at her. Lily nervously took a sip of her tea.
The invitation had been swift. A regal owl had arrived at her office bearing an envelope with the Flamel's house crest.
It had only contained a simple port key.
There had been whispers about the Flamels at the Unspeakable H.Q.
Croaker had called them the immortal hand guiding destinies.
James had described them as an empire unto themselves.
Mad-Eye had said they were a one-man army.
Alice had told her stories of an immortal couple who lost their children in wars and now found solace in their untold wealth.
Dumbledore had described them as sad souls searching for love.
Lily annoyedly winced at the last line. Looking at the lady before her, she was anything but sad.
Clad in elegant but simple garb, Perenelle smiled politely and offered her more refreshments.
Lily politely refused. She didn't know where she was. The background conversations sounded like they were in French.
Lily struggled to find her words. In past she had written immensely to the Flamels.
Lily's letters and messages, sent through every arcane means available, had detailed her desperate pleas for the Flamels' direct intervention in the war against Voldemort.
She had poured her heart and soul into those missives, outlining her frustrations with Dumbledore's perceived lack of commitment and his soft-heartedness, which she believed hindered the necessary actions.
What if they took her message wrongly? An insult to their apprentice?
Now, face to face with Perenelle, Lily felt a mix of anxiety and determination. She knew the gravity of her request and the potential consequences it carried. A coup against Dumbledore, the powerful wizard who stood as a beacon of hope for many, was no small matter.
She needed Perenelle's blessing, her support, and the backing of those who recognized the urgency of the situation.
"Perenelle, I implore you to consider the urgency of our situation. Dumbledore's approach, though well-intentioned, lacks the necessary force to combat Voldemort. We need a more direct and aggressive strategy. We cannot afford to be held back by his soft-heartedness." Lily started.
Perenelle remained silent, her gaze unwavering as Lily continued.
"The Flamels have always been whispered about, their power and influence unparalleled. I have seen the rumors, heard the stories of your family's dedication to fighting dark lords. We need your direct intervention and your guidance in this war. Together, we can tip the scales in our favor." Lily said.
Perenelle remained quiet for a while.
"Do you believe in divination, Miss Evans?" Perenelle said.
"I can't say that I fully trust-" Lily said.
"Lie" Perenelle cut her off. Her demeanor was changed. Lily's instincts screamed at her to be careful.
"We know you are a legilimens of considerable power, Miss Evans." A voice intoned from behind her.
Lily jerked violently and turned around.
It was Nicolas Flamel.
"Lying to us is a dangerous proposition, Miss Evans. Especially when you seek our blessing in a plot against one whom we raised ever since he was a boy." Nicolas said and took his seat with his wife.
Great. Now it's two of these weirdos.
"I am and yes I believe in prophecies." Lily simply replied.
"Then what is your business with Trelawaney?" Nicols inquired.
It was then Lily explained her Operation Vision. Her brainchild. "Enhanced Interrogation Measures" of captured Death Eaters had revealed considerably about Voldemort's personality. It was a bid too pierce through his enigma and hype and gaze directly at the man himself. What had been revealed was astounding.
"Unlike Dumbledore who believes that the Dark Lord is simply interested in cause and effect, we have found differently. The Dark Lord is, speaking in Muggle Terms deeply superstitious." Lily started.
"He places deep significance in astrological alignments and ancient beliefs. Whether it be the prominence of Mars as a day to declare battle or using Venu to conduct rituals, he has a belief system. We can exploit this." Lily declared.
A pause followed only broken by Nicolas's "How?"
"By leaking a prophecy, one that foretells the birth of a child to those who have defied Voldemort thrice, we can lure him into a trap. We'll make him believe that this child poses a threat to his reign." Lily said.
"And how will this defeat him? I do remind you that there is not a witch or wizard alive right now that can beat him in open combat." Nicolas said, ready to leave the conversation.
Lily paused; this was the coup de grace.
"We dictate the battle on our term. I agree with your sentiment, my lord. We must fight on terms where we are stronger. During my time as an Unspeakable I have invested heavily in traps, mainly mines and temporal vortexes. Once locked inside, not even someone of the Dark Lord's strength can escape him." Lily said, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Once inside the vortex, the Dark Lord is very welcome to contest his strength against eldritch beings for eons to come. Provided of course they don't eat him as breakfast." Lily said and almost chuckled at her own joke.
Another pause followed. Nicolas was the one who broke it.
"It is a sound strategy."
"But Dumbledore will never agree to it." Lily replied.
The two took a deep breath and said in union.
"Leave Dumbledore to us. You have our blessing." Perenelle said.
"Certainly, my lady." Lily said.
It was not the first time she had met with the Flamels.
Perenelle had taken it upon herself to work the finer details of the plan.
The vortexes and the mines had been crafted to zenith. Only Merlin himself would be able to explain their plan.
The two stood in their study sipping on tea after a long day's work. The evening sun was setting outside.
"Are you familiar with the concept of causality?" Perenelle asked.
"I can't say that I am, Ma'am." Lily said and Perenelle nodded.
"Causality is a fundamental principle that governs the very fabric of our reality. It is the intricate web of cause and effect, wherein each action sets off a chain reaction of consequences. Think of it as a tapestry woven with countless threads, each thread representing a choice, a decision, or an event. When one thread is pulled or altered, it tugs on the others, creating a ripple effect throughout the tapestry." Perenelle said.
"I am not sure I follow." Lily said.
"Consider this, Lily. Just as a drop in a pond creates ripples that spread outward, our actions will have far-reaching effects. When we alter the course of events, we must be mindful of the repercussions it may have on the future. Causality binds us to the consequences of our choices, often in ways we cannot anticipate." Perenelle explained.
"So, you're saying that our plan to lure Voldemort into a trap will have consequences beyond the immediate outcome?"
"It might." Perenelle said.
Lily placed her cup on the side and asked,
"You have seemed tense since morning. Is everything ok? Have you seen anything?"
A storm of emotions warred in Perenelle's eyes before she reached a decision.
"My love, Nicolas, is unwell. He is a man of many talents…..He has been having visions." Perenelle said.
"What has he seen?" Lily asked.
"An army of dead rising in untold numbers. Undying death eaters returning to battle after every loss. Hordes of Dementors & inferi laying siege to us. The closer we get to enacting this plan, the more vivid his visions get."
It took a moment for Lily to absorb the shock of what she had just heard.
"There are rumors that the Dark Lord has begun resorting to Necromancy." Lily said.
"We must kill him. Tear him out, root and stem." Perenelle said.
"Agreed." Lily said.
The Daily Prophet
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Dead! Boy Who Lived!
In a stunning turn of events, the dark wizard Lord Voldemort met his ultimate fate at the hands of a mere toddler: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. The Ministry of Magic has officially confirmed the reports of Voldemort's demise, sending ripples of relief and jubilation throughout the Wizarding World. In an audacious attempt to end young Harry's life, Voldemort unknowingly triggered a miraculous chain of events that resulted in his own downfall. The exact details of this extraordinary occurrence remain a mystery, leaving many in awe of the power that resides within the young hero. As the news spreads, the wizarding community unites in celebration, hailing Harry Potter as the embodiment of hope and resilience. The Boy Who Lived has emerged triumphant, marking a new era of peace and freedom from the clutches of darkness.
Correspondent: Michael Sandburn
It was done.
The bastard was torn to pieces and not a shred of him remained behind.
An injured Lily relaxed in the hospital bed. A comatose James in another bed beside her.
The moment he turned the wand on her, she had triggered all the traps. The simple cottage had turned into a house of death as Voldemort's shrieks echoed throughout the night.
Even from here, she could hear the celebrations outside. Fireworks boomed late into the night.
Tipsy nurses made their rounds merrily humming, breaking out Christmas décor early and placing it all over.
She leaned back and closed her. It was finally done.
Alice, Mother, Father, James, and Hundreds more – this was all for you.
Dumbledore had visited her earlier. His eyes weeping as he apologized profusely for his actions.
He congratulated her on a victory well won. Saying he had already arranged significant compensation for her from the ministry. As unofficial wetwork operatives, they were a purely voluntary force with legal deniability should something go wrong. They would have no medals, pensions, or benefits.
Still she wouldn't hold Dumbledore's hand if he wanted to make right by her.
A nurse giggled as she administered the draught of dreamless sleep to her.
In another life she would have snapped at her and told her to maintain discipline.
Now she merely laughed alongside her.
No more tears. No more pain. Only laughter.
As haziness began to take over she looked over to James.
The man had stood the trial by fire with her and came out swinging. Every battle he stood when others either abandoned or died around her.
I want your babies.
London.
Lily Potter. Dumbledore. Nicolas Flamel.
1 year after Voldemort's defeat.
Lily smiled down at the twins. Elizabeth and Francis.
Peacefully sleeping without a care in the world. Just as she intended, without a care in the world.
That's right. You have nothing to fear my dears. Nobody will ever harm you. You will live in peace.
The world she had created for them was just. They will never have to undergo the trials she had.
They will never suffer the loss of parents like she had. They will never be training like she had at Croaker's hands.
Voldemort was dead and obliterated.
Her doorbell chimed, taking away Lily's attention from the twins.
The unspeakable in her instantly reached for her wand ready to blow the door, the neighbor in her forced her to sheathe it.
Old habits die hard I suppose.
She opened the door and saw Dumbledore and Nicolas had come to visit her.
I hope everything is fine.
They sat in the kitchen, hunched over teacups like grannies conspiring against their neighbors.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, his eyes filled with regret. "Lily, my dear, I apologize for disturbing you during this joyous time. How are the twins?"
Lily offered a warm smile, though a hint of weariness clung to her features. "They are all doing well, Albus. James went out to Gringotts to secure some funds including your delivery for our future. I believe he wants to ensure our children's safety."
Nicolas Flamel, his face etched with concern, interjected gently, "And how are you holding up, my dear? Your wounds were quite severe."
Lily's eyes gleamed with gratitude. "Thank you for asking. I'm exhausted, of course, but seeing my little ones healthy brings me immense joy and strength."
Nicolas smiled blankly at that. A polite pause followed before Lily impaitiently shattered.
"Spill it. Why are you here? What went wrong now?"
Dumbledore exchanged a sad look with Nicolas before starting.
Dumbledore's countenance shifted, the warmth receding as a solemn expression settled upon his face. "Lily, I must inform you of something grave. Voldemort, though not completely vanquished that fateful night, has resurfaced. Severus reported his contact just four hours ago."
Lily's heart skipped a beat, a shiver of fear coursing through her. "But... but we thought he was gone, defeated."
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Voldemort has returned in a spectral form, and he has declared a blood hunt. Your names, James and yours, are at the top of his list."
Horror and anger etched deep lines on Lily's face. A vision broke into her,
Francis and Elizabeth crying over James's corpse. An undying legion of inferi assailing them from all corners. Lily in anguish as Voldemort kills the twins.
Dumbledore's voice, though tinged with urgency, carried a hint of reassurance. "Fear not, Lily. I will not allow any harm to befall you or your family. I propose a course of action that will provide the utmost protection. Nicolas, would you be willing to offer Lily and the twins refuge at one of your well-warded estates in France?"
Nicolas Flamel nodded, his voice resonating with conviction. "My estates are fortified with powerful wards and enchantments. They shall be a sanctuary against any threats."
"If it ensures the safety of my children, then I will do whatever it takes."
Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Lily's trembling one. "You have my word, Lily. We will stand together and protect your family. Voldemort will not prevail."
Taking another pause, Dumbledore asked again,
"I must ask about Lightning Rod's status." Dumbledore inquired. Lily narrowed his eyes.
"The boy's mother had wanted him back. Apparently, her maternal instincts have kicked in this time around. Why?"
Dumbledore closed his eyes in frustration.
"I had hoped to place him within your muggle relatives. The original plan Nicolas and I had devised was to fake your deaths courtesy of the wounds you received. Some bribes at Saint Mungo would have ensured that." Dumbledore said.
Nicolas broke through the panic, his monotone unyielding.
"Do you know where the boy is?" Nicolos asked.
Lily nodded. He turned to Dumbledore and ordered.
"Obliviate her."
Warring emotions raged through Dumbledore before acceptance appeared. He nodded his assent.
Present Day
Chateau Potter | Southern France.
Lily, Francis, & Elizabeth.
The sun gracefully descended, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and gold. Its warm rays caressed the marble decorations of the villa, casting a soft, enchanting glow.
The intricate carvings came to life, as if infused with the magic of the sunset. Shadows danced playfully, embracing the elegance of the villa in their gentle embrace.
Nature's brushstrokes transformed the scene into a mesmerizing tableau, where time stood still, and the beauty of the moment was etched in the hearts of all who beheld it.
The three occupants stared unblinkingly at the marvelous vista outside it.
It is the intricate web of cause and effect, wherein each action sets off a chain reaction of consequences. Think of it as a tapestry woven with countless threads, each thread representing a choice, a decision.
Lily smiled bitterly as the old words echoed through her.
"A galleon for your thoughts?" Elizabeth chimed in a worried voice.
Captain, we are receiving increasingly disturbing news from all over the world. Dark forces are in motion. Tarantula breeding numbers are through the roof. The werewolves stopped their petitions to us and went silent. Vampire clan elders that parlayed with us have been assassinated. Maddened Death Eaters in Azkaban are cheering and shouting as if they have won lottery. Disturbing reports are coming out of Durmstrang and surrounding areas. Worse off, we are no close to finding out what the hell happened to Grindelwald. Also, what the hell is with all these zombies popping off?
Initiate Sunlight Protocols.
W-what? Really! Isn't that the last emerg-
Do it.
At once, Captain Potter!
"It's him. He is the reaction." Lily simply said. Her eyes shining in the golden hue around them.
Elizabeth looked confused before Francis spoke.
"Harry."
Lily simply nodded. Unable to find the strength to speak.
Just as a drop in a pond creates ripples that spread outward, our actions will have far-reaching effects. When we alter the course of events, we must be mindful of the repercussions.
Chickens have come home to roost.
"Do you regret any of it?" Francis asked.
"No. Never." Lily said.
"We should have killed the little weasel when he lay in Dumbledore's office." Elizabeth spat out darkly.
Lily nodded in agreement.
"No matter, we will have plenty of time for that. He will not escape us this time around." Francis remarked.
War is the ultimate game, Lily.
Croaker had taught her that. His final lesson.
It is the testing of one's will and the will of another within that larger will which, because it binds them is therefore forced to select.
Lily eyes hardened. She will not lose this. They had come too far.
She was now a mother. A wife to a beautiful man. One of the leaders of the new age.
Thrice they had put the bastard down. 4th time the charm. Just like he was humiliated at the ministry, he will be done here.
The flight from death will find itself permanently ground this time.
Lily got up and faced the setting sun. Her back to her children as she spoke.
"Never hesitate my dears. Hesitation is death. Remember, the great enemy greatest whisper is lies. It has neither spine nor gumption like we do. It can neither sacrifice nor love like we do. Like the pack of rats, they will turn on each other at the first sign of trouble. Evil thrives when good mages fail to act. When the strong are too shackled mentally to do what the weak are unable to do. You, my children, are not weak. You will strike them down without hesitation, without remorse. Expect nothing less from the enemy. In the end, our love for each other will triumph over whatever filth Voldemort or his slave Harry throws at us. Snakes crawling in muck and dirt can only seethe at the majesty of a Hawk soaring in the heavens. They can only seethe at the sight of a lion proudly sitting amongst his kin." Lily spoke.
Her children sat in a trance.
This was the warrior father had spoken about in such gushing love poetry Charles thought.
Let him come, let his legions break on their shores. They will annihilate him. Her children were stronger than she had been at her age. Should anything happen to her, they will carry on the fight with fury.
The gaunt face of Alice Longbottom stared back at Lily.
The reforms they had enacted. The safety they had built for all. The new world order they had forged.
It was all on the line.
This is winner takes all.
Once Upon a Time.
No 13 Privet Drive. London.
The bus rumbled steadily along the winding streets of suburban England, its wheels rolling over the well-worn asphalt. The man, impeccably dressed and exuding an air of confidence, sat in a plush seat, his gaze fixed out the window. Cool English air flowed through the open windows, carrying with it a faint scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers.
As the bus traversed the familiar route, the man couldn't help but notice the occasional glances he received from a few female passengers. He offered them a polite smile, a mask of civility.
I imagine how their faces would look under Crucio
The conductor's voice cut through his reverie, announcing the upcoming stop as Number 13 Privet Drive. It was his destination, the place where he would find the boy. With a graceful movement, he rose from his seat, adjusting the cuffs of his well-tailored suit. He moved towards the exit, the appreciative gazes of the women lingering in his mind, a reminder of his frustration with the mundane world he had to navigate.
Stepping off the bus onto the pavement, he surveyed his surroundings, a momentary confusion flickering in his eyes. Muggle London had always been a labyrinth to him.
He cast his gaze about, searching for a familiar landmark or sign to guide his way. He glanced at the address note and for the 100th time cursed Wormtail's handwriting.
His attention was drawn to a car parked nearby, its owner tinkering with the engine under the hood. An idea sparked in his mind, and he approached the man with a courteous smile, hoping for assistance.
But the car owner, caught up in his frustrations, brushed him off with a curt response and a dismissive gesture. A flash of blue later and the man told him the location. Another flash and his car repaired itself.
The man nodded gratefully and went about his way.
He smiled as the thunderous sound of metal smacking metal ringed in the neighborhood.
The man walked for a while and reached his destination. A thin reedy woman was working on her Tulip.
"Ahem" He coughed hoping to gain her attention.
The woman startled and looked up. Her eyes were pale red.
No doubt mourning her mudblood sister.
"Can I help you?" The woman asked.
"Petunia Dursley, I presume?" The man asked.
The woman nervously nodded.
Do all muggles love playing in dirt.
"Malfoy. Detective Malfoy. Scotland Yard. I was hoping we could discuss your nephew?" Malfoy introduced himself.
The woman paled at the man's stature and immediately got up.
The woman served him a cup of tea as he watched her.
"I still can't believe she is dead. Oh, poor Harry, growing up without his mummy." She whimpered as she took her seat opposite him.
Malfoy internally rolled his eyes but nodded at her.
"Are you one of her friends?" Petunia said.
"Yes, ma'am. I apologize for my earlier deception. Too many ears outside and I needed to speak to you in private." Malfoy said.
That was enough for the woman's flood gate to open.
"I just can't believe she died. We had only just recently made up. I even invited her to my son's first birthday party. Oh, poor Lily. Too pure for this world."
If only you knew, you wretched woman.
"I believe you are now the legal guardian of a boy. Somebody named Harry Potter." He inquired.
This was the moment of truth.
She blew her nose with a handkerchief and nodded.
Bingo
Wasting no time, Malfoy pulled out his wand and whispered.
Imperio!
Petunia's form stifferned and she started owlishly at Malfoy.
"Listen you wretched woman. The boy is not worthy to eat at your table. He is not worthy to sit with your kin. He is not fit. He is an abomination that deserves nothing from you. Do not cripple him but do not love him. Hate him and mistreat him. He is a freak." Malfoy said.
Petunia's snapped back to reality. There was nobody inside her house.
Why am I inside? Why do I feel so angry.
Her eyes fell upon a child's form as it happily gurgled at her with outstretched arms.
Petunia's eyes narrowed at him.
How dare he?!
She grabbed him by his neck as the baby screamed in pain and looked for a place to throw him.
What was she thinking? Making Diddykums share a room with that thing?
Under the stairs you go!
The boy wailed as darkness and pungent smell engulfed him.
Nobody came to visit him.
Albania.
Voldemort.
Voldemort shuffled the tarot deck over arithmetic formulae.
His form was disintegrating fast. Soon he will be a wraith and will remain so for a long while.
He needed to get his affairs in order.
The Flamels and Dumbledore had dealt him a massive blow, but he still couldn't figure out the depths of deception at play here.
The Unspeakables too were involved here somehow. He imagined himself ripping apart Snape for the 100th time. He had spared the girl for his sake and this was his reward.
No good deed went unpunished.
The boy had been a fraud. He hadn't cast a killing curse on him. He was in great pain, but he remembered that. So, if he hadn't cast it, how did he survive whatever nonsense the media spewed?
Narcissa had been thorough in the boy's genealogy analysis. He had not a lick of Potter or Black blood in him. There were no wards or blood protection that one would have expected around the boy's place in the aftermath of the supposed sacrifice.
If they were, Lucius would have been incinerated alive. Not that he needed to know that.
The tortured shrieks of the centaur died down as Bellatrix cast a killing curse on him.
Like these worthless cards, the fool's prophecies and divinations had been pathetic.
Everything contradicted itself. The boy was no Potter or Black. Yet all the divination methods pointed towards him.
Threads of fate deeply tangled around him.
He had sensed a part of his soul in him. That was irrelevant. It was no guarantee of great power or worth.
Regardless, Dumbledore thought the boy important. That alone merited his attention.
Lucius had done a fine job.
If the boy had to be of a mold similar to him, his conditions needed to be similar to his own.
Cruel muggle relatives for abusive orphanage. An apt similarity.
He would poison the boy and turn him on Dumbledore. He will pull the rug from beneath his feet.
And then and only then, will the old man feel the depths of his pain.
Lies were his forte. The boy won't survive for long against his onslaught.
There was too much at stake here.
Muggles and muggle-born continued to take over the world yet none did anything about it. War clouds gathered, heralding a future war with Muggles.
Nuclear weapons, Robots, and Artificial Intelligence, the gap between their might closed ever more.
A world police imprisoning wizards in their own communes was established. 3/4th of the entire world was cordoned off from them.
Yet Dumbledore refused to take action. He had stepped in.
The reforms he had Malfoy enact. The safety they had built for all. The new world order they had been forging.
It was all on the line. The stakes for too high and Voldemort won't be taken for a fool again.
This is winner takes all.
Author Notes: Hi all. This is a prequel to Tears of a Scorned Son that I wrote on popular demand (3 fki** reviews). Everyone wanted a sequel and I wanted to subvert expectations (flashbacks of GOT s08 occur). Also, I gave Lily a kekkai genkai. Not Harry oops! Were you subverted? Lol. All cringe aside, Both the Prequel and Original Story are available on my profile. Lemme know what you think of this. Hate it? Leave a review. Love it? Leave a review! Please review. I look forward to it. Have a great week ahead. Ciao!