Chapter 60: Beautiful, Beautiful Niece

3-year-old Lily Potter was happily prancing about her daddy's office. He was out for a minute, placing a call, having decided to stay and work from home that day. Lily Potter loved those days. Ever since her brothers had gone off to Muggle primary school, the house had gotten quite lonely. She appreciated how her parents always tried their level-best to make time for her around their busy careers and home lives.

Lily tried now to clamber up on her father's desk. If he came back and she was lying on his papers, he very well couldn't work and then they could play some more. As her tiny body scaled Harry's swivel chair, her hand accidentally pushed out as she tried to get a grip on the polished wood, pushing her away from the desk. The desk chair ran into something - Daddy's Pensieve. Lily knew she wasn't ever supposed to touch it, and usually it was locked, in Daddy's closet, but he had needed to use it in order to help place his business call.

Now colliding with the Pensieve, Lily flailed as she lost her balance... and fell backwards into the Pensieve.

Lily landed in a cold, dark room. It was big and spacious, with a bunch of old furniture. A witch with wild, black hair was yelling and screaming at seemingly everyone present. Then suddenly, she grabbed for a young woman and dragged her into the center of the room. The young version of this woman, she had seen in pictures - a family photo on Daddy's desk; a wedding picture on her Uncle and Auntie's dresser.

Auntie...

Whirling around, Lily watched as her Uncle Ron and her father were flung back, dragged down towards a scary, dank basement.

"Daddy? DADDY!" Lily screamed. He couldn't hear her.

Images came fast and hard now, Lily bouncing around from the basement to the room upstairs. She stood still, frozen with terror, as the mean witch with the wild black hair started hurting Auntie. Auntie screamed, and Lily began to scream and cry.

Then, Daddy came. Daddy always came to save the day, he was... Daddy. And Uncle Ron was right behind him. A house-elf appeared, one who looked a lot nicer than Kreacher (though, admittedly, Kreacher could be quite friendly once you got to know him, he seemed to like Lily well enough). A flash of silver from the mean witch with the wild black hair, and then -

Nothing, as Lily suddenly felt herself being dragged back up to the surface.

Lily sat, huddled and cold and sniffling, in the corner of the Pensieve, just at the edge of the closet. The door to Harry's study opened, and her father came in.

"All right, Lily Bear, that call's done..." Harry stopped short, growing tense at his daughter's expression. He looked from her, then up to the Pensieve, which had somehow been left open; he must have forgotten to close it. And what was his desk chair doing all the way over there?

"Lils? What's wrong, sweetums?"

Lily began to cry, to her father's great distress, and whimpered. "I... I fell in! I was playing... wanting to get on your desk... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

In three quick strides, Harry was at her side, kneeling in front of her. "It's OK, Lily Bear, just... what did you see?"

Lily froze, her eyes betraying a fear that Harry never wanted to see on her face again. Slowly starting to panic, Harry forgot himself for a moment, and gave her a little shake. "Answer me!" he demanded, regretting the harshness in his tone the minute the words left his lips. He made a point to only use that tone around Albus and James when the boys were misbehaving. Lily was still too little. And besides, she was a good little girl, did practically everything that you told her. Which is why this was so out-of-character for her.

Lily visibly shook, her lip trembling. Then, she burst into tears. "Aunt... Auntie..."

Harry frowned, wheeling through the four sisters-in-law in his head. Then a fifth candidate fell into his mind: Petunia? Maybe she saw a memory of his hellish childhood days by mistake. "Auntie? Which Auntie, Lils? You're gonna have to be a little more specific..."

"Aunt... Hermione. There was a bad witch with... wild black hair... and a knife."

Recognition dawned, and Harry stood, his eyes filled with horror. "Oh, my holy Merlin..." Next second, he had grabbed Lily, picked her up and cuddled her close, marching down the stairs. Ginny met them on the landing.

"What's wrong?"

"Landline. Call your brother." At Ginny's blank stare (she did have six brothers, five of whom were still living), he elaborated shortly, "Ron!"

Ginny knocked the landline off its hook and flipped it to her husband, who cradled it in the crook of his ear. The dial tone mocked him. "Come on, come on... Hermione... pick up, 'Mione... pick up, pick up, pick up..." At least, he hoped she answered. Ron still wasn't the best at talking on the telephone (or as he sometimes mangled the phrase, "fellytone.").

After the fourth ring, Hermione's voice came on the line. "Weasley residence, Hermione speaking."

"Hermione, where are you?"

"Folding laundry, why? I took the day off. Ron's at the shop."

"Great. I need you to Floo over here now. It's about Lily."

"Harry, what happened?"

"Just get over here. Please!"

"I'm on my way."

A few minutes later, there was a rush of green flame and Hermione stepped from the fireplace. Right away, her youngest niece's eyes locked onto hers, and she reached for her.

"Auntie Hermione!" Lily practically flew into her arms.

"Well, now," Hermione chuckled, to hide her own fear. "What's this? What's the matter, my little gumdrop? Tell Auntie..."

Lily relaxed in Hermione's embrace, burying her nose in her porcelain skin, inhaling her sweet scent. She sank into Hermione's gentle rocking of her and humming to her the way one sinks into a warm bath. The little girl stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked. Second to her mother, her godmother was her favorite person in the world. "Mummy..." she murmured.

Hermione's lips upturned into a smile. It was now an old joke between them. When Lily was a baby, she had gone through a phase where she thought Hermione was her mother. Ginny had pretended not to be hurt by it, Ron was... Ron about it, thinking it was hilarious, and Harry had just awkwardly hoped that it was what it ultimately became: a phase.

Hermione turned to her brother-in-law. "What happened?" But before he could speak, Lily pulled her thumb out of her mouth long enough to ask:

"Auntie? Is the witch with the wild black hair going to hurt you again?"

Hermione frowned, not quite getting what she was talking about. She looked to Harry for help, but he only gave her a pointed stare.

In that moment, she understood. Hermione gasped sharply, making Lily squirm with concern in her arms; the adult witch went white as a sheet. "How...?"

"I left out my Pensieve, and forgot to lock it up again. I turn my back for five minutes to make a call, and she fell in."

Hermione looked traumatized. "How much did she see?" she whispered.

"From the little I could get out of her... all of it?" Harry winced.

Blinking back tears, Hermione burrowed Lily into her hair, cuddling the child close. "Of course not, precious! Of course the bad witch isn't going to hurt Auntie anymore! I promise."

Tears splashing down the front of Hermione's jumper, Lily sniffed. "I wish... Mummy and Daddy had had me then. The bad witch could have hurt me instead."

Hermione nearly moaned with anguish. "Oh, dear one, don't say that! Don't let me ever, ever hear you say that..." Her gaze locked onto Harry's, the tears in his eyes mirroring her own. Ginny was full-blown weeping, and not even bothering to hide it. Sometimes, none of the family could fathom how such a little darling could be so generous of heart. Well, Harry could, but it was something that only he could fully understand...

"Lily..." Hermione began slowly. "You know everyone is safe now, and we all love you. We're not going anywhere... Lily?" Her only answer was slow, even breathing. "Well, would you look at that - she's asleep."

Harry smirked. "You always can get her to go down."

Hermione smiled weakly. "She sleeps like her Daddy." Harry grunted in slight disagreement, but he let the moment pass.

"I'll put her to bed," Ginny murmured quietly. She gingerly took Lily from Hermione's arms and turned for the stairs. Harry stalked for the kitchen, his trod heavy and only ever seen when he was thinking hard (it was his version of pacing, to prowl everywhere with an intense look on his face). Biting her lip, Hermione followed.

Harry was at the sink, doing some of the dishes, and wordlessly, Hermione moved to help him. It was muscle memory, how they fell into the routine from so many years ago, washing up after dinner in the tent during the weeks Ron had... had been away.

After a prolonged silence, Hermione spoke. "When are you going to tell the boys?"

"Not until after they've graduated Hogwarts. I don't want it to negatively affect their studies. That's my policy, and Ginny agrees with me."

"Not when they come of age? Harry, James is going to be 18 by the time he walks for his diploma!"

"Muggles come of age when they turn 18; you and I both know that," Harry placated her gently. "And really, what difference does a year make?"

"It makes a whole lot of difference to a young man, who you and I both know is a bit of a hothead!" Hermione chided gently.

Harry snorted, passing a plate to the dishwasher. "He is at that."

Hermione grinned. "He takes after his uncle."

"Which one?" Harry cracked. Though he knew perfectly well which one.

He paused in his work when he felt Hermione's hand on his arm. Only she and Ginny could calm him effectively. "It's not your fault, you know," but she didn't seem to be referencing the Pensieve anymore.

Harry half-dropped, half-threw an errant fork into the sink. "I had one job. One job: to protect my family. And that night, I didn't do it! I failed!"

"Sssh. No, you didn't. You did not fail. And if Ron were here, he would say the same thing."

Harry scoffed. "You sure about that?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "He'd ruddy well better, if he knows what's good for him!"

He turned to her. "I'm sorry..."

"Harry -"

"If I had been just a little bit faster... hell, had my head screwed on better..."

"Stop. We've been over this; I forgive you. Heck, I don't think I've ever consciously blamed you; I never would."

"True. But you're never gonna stop me from not blaming myself. From forgiving myself."

Hermione eyed him hard, then sighed. "Be that as it may. Doesn't mean I'm not gonna try, big brother." She kissed his cheek, then slid into his arms. "I love you," she murmured.

Harry rested his head on top of hers, breathing deeply. "I know."