31 May 1980, Upper Flagley
James woke up feeling slightly off, a tickle in his nose and a heaviness in his head suggesting a cold. He sniffled and sneezed, a sudden and powerful burst that shook the bed. Immediately, there was a flutter in Lily's belly beside him which would have caused her to wake even if the thundering sneeze didn't.
"Bless you," Lily murmured, her voice still a bit sleepy.
"Thanks," James replied, reaching for a tissue. "I think I caught whatever Sirius had as well. Great, now I'm the one sneezing."
Lily chuckled softly, her hand resting on her rounded belly. "I'm feeling much better today, though. No fever, no sneezing, just a bit stuffed up. Madam Pomfrey said it's normal for pregnant people, something about mucous membranes swelling."
James smiled, glad to see her in better spirits. "That's a relief. You had me worried there for a bit."
He sneezed again, this time noticing the strange ripple going over Lily's belly. Harry seemed to respond to his sneezes with hiccoughs, and causing small, random transfigurations around the room. A pillow turned bright blue, and the curtains shifted from floral to plain white.
"Did you see that?" James asked, his eyes wide with surprise.
Lily nodded, a mix of amusement and curiosity on her face. "Looks like it wasn't me after all yesterday. Harry's got your flair for dramatics. Bit of an overreaction if you ask me."
James laughed, despite the stuffiness in his head. "Great, our kid's already causing trouble, and he's not even born yet."
Lily smiled, rubbing her belly gently. "I think it's kind of sweet. He's already showing he can manipulate magic."
James leaned over, planting a gentle kiss on Lily's belly. "You hear that, Harry? You're already making an impression."
Another sneeze escaped him, and the lamp on the bedside table turned into a crystal vase. James groaned. "This is going to be a long day, isn't it?"
Lily laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "Don't worry, we'll manage. And at least we know he's healthy and strong."
James nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "You're right. We'll get through this, together."
As they tried to get through their morning routine, James's sneezing became more frequent. Each sneeze brought with it a flurry of magical activity. The clock on the mantlepiece turned into a large, ornate mirror, reflecting the room in distorted proportions. The rug under their feet changed from a simple woollen design to an intricate Persian pattern.
James sneezed again, and the teapot in Lily's hands transformed into a small, chirping birdcage. The bird inside flapped its wings and chirped loudly, adding to the chaos of the tea spilling out everywhere, because of course that didn't get transfigured. Lily's eyes widened in surprise, and she set the birdcage down on the table.
"James, we have to do something about this," she said, her voice tinged with urgency.
James nodded, sneezing once more. This time, the wallpaper shifted to a bright, floral pattern that clashed horribly with the rest of the room. "I know, Lily, but I don't know what to do. It's getting worse."
Lily took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Alright, let's think. Maybe there's a way to ward off the magic, contain it somehow."
James sneezed again, and the couch they were sitting on morphed into a large, velvet throne. They both slid off onto the floor in surprise.
"Okay, this is ridiculous," Lily said, getting to her feet. "I'm going to look through my books and see if there's anything we can use to create a ward."
James nodded, sniffling and rubbing his nose. "I'll help you look."
They moved to Lily's study, where she began pulling books off the shelves, scanning through them quickly. James sneezed again, and the stack of books turned into a pile of colourful, oversized cushions.
Lily found a book on warding spells and quickly flipped to the section on containment wards. "Here, this might work," she said, showing the page to James.
He sneezed again, and the curtains in the room turned a bright, neon green. "Let's do it."
Following the instructions in the book regarding a general magic-dampening array, Lily began drawing a series of runes on the floor with chalk. James watched, trying to suppress his sneezes as best he could. Each time he felt one coming on, he turned away, but the magic still surged, causing small objects around the room to change and shift.
Once the runes were complete, Lily went to stand in the centre of the array.
"Wait is this safe?" James asked. He didn't realize that Lily was supposed to perform this on herself. "For Harry I mean?"
"He doesn't have his own fully developed magical core yet," Lily explained patiently. "He's leeching off mine. I'm creating a barrier between the two so that he doesn't have such a readily available supply. Fetuses usually don't. He can do without it."
"How do you know all this?" James asked, sneezing again, this time causing the lamp on the side table to turn into a teapot.
"I actually read A Witch's Guide to Magical Childrearing?" she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.
It didn't seem like it rang a bell for James.
"You know, one of the about twenty books you had bought or got from Sirius or who knows where else when you found out we were expecting?" she added, a fond smile tugging at her lips.
James blinked, the memory coming back to him. "Oh, right. That makes sense now. You really did read all of those, didn't you?"
Lily nodded, a touch of pride in her voice. "Of course. I want to be as prepared as possible."
James watched as Lily began chanting softly, her wand tracing intricate patterns in the air. A soft glow emanated from the runes, forming a shimmering barrier around her, and settling on her skin.
James sneezed again, and this time, the magic was contained by the barrier. The objects around the room remained unchanged, only the glow of the barrier intensified for a moment before settling down.
"It's working," Lily said, relief evident in her voice. "The ward is containing the magic."
James nodded, his expression one of gratitude and awe. "You're amazing, Lily."
She smiled, stepping back to admire their work. "We'll keep this up until your cold passes. It should keep the magic from getting out of hand."
James sneezed again, the barrier flaring briefly before stabilizing. "Thank you, Lily. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You might want to call in sick though," she suggested. "I don't think you'd be of use to anyone if you are sneezing your head off."
"True," he said and sneezed again just to prove the point. "But I hate to leave the team short-handed, especially today."
Lily placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle yet firm. "Your health is more important. They'll manage without you for a day."
James sighed, knowing she was right. "Alright, I'll send a message to the office. I'll stay home."
Lily's smile was warm and reassuring. "Good. Now, let's get you back to bed and make sure you're comfortable."
They returned to the bedroom, and James settled under the covers. Lily made sure the ward was still in place around herself before joining him, her presence a soothing balm to his discomfort.
As the day went on, James's sneezing continued, each one causing the ward to flare and stabilize. The magical surges remained contained, and the house stayed peaceful. Lily checked on him regularly, bringing him potions and ensuring he stayed hydrated.
By evening, James's sneezes had become less frequent, and the cold starting to wane. The ward had held up beautifully, a testament to Lily's skill and brilliance.
"You're a lifesaver," James said, his voice still a bit congested but filled with gratitude.
Lily smiled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "Just doing my part. Now get some rest, love."
James nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over him, drifting off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that Lily was by his side.
31 May 1980, Death Eater Base, unknown location
In the shadowy depths of the Death Eater base, Voldemort's throne room was a place of eerie silence and malevolent power. The Dark Lord sat on a grand, dark chair, his snake-like eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and malice. He had summoned Severus Snape for a private audience, an event that always promised a blend of intrigue and danger.
Snape entered the room, his expression carefully neutral, though the tension in his posture was evident. He bowed low, his black robes pooling around him like liquid night.
"My Lord," Snape intoned, his voice steady and respectful.
"Severus," Voldemort hissed, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. "I have received some rather interesting information from Rookwood. Information regarding the Potters." He paused, watching Snape's reaction closely.
Snape's face remained a mask of impassivity, though a flicker of concern passed through his eyes. "Indeed, my Lord? What information might that be?"
Voldemort's lips curled into a sinister smile. "It appears that Lily Potter's unborn child is exhibiting powerful magical surges, detectable even from a distance. Rookwood has confirmed their location: Upper Flagley. This is quite intriguing, don't you agree?"
Snape's mind raced. He knew the significance of this revelation, but he had to tread carefully. "Indeed, my Lord. Such powerful magic in an unborn child is unusual. It suggests a strong magical core, perhaps even a prodigy in the making."
Voldemort leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "The prophecy, Severus. Could this be the child it speaks of?"
Snape's heart pounded, but he kept his voice calm. "It is possible, my Lord. The prophecy mentioned a child born as the seventh month dies. Both the Potters and the Longbottoms fit this description. However, if the Potters' child is already exhibiting such power, it may indeed be the one."
The Dark Lord's gaze bored into Snape, searching for any sign of deception. "And what do you make of this information, Severus? What would you advise?"
Snape chose his words carefully. "I would advise caution, my Lord. While the child's power is significant, it is still unborn and vulnerable. An immediate attack could provoke the Order of the Phoenix into heightened vigilance. A more subtle approach might yield better results. Perhaps an infiltration, or a way to separate the child from its protectors once it is born."
Voldemort considered this, tapping his long, pale fingers on the armrest of his throne. "A wise suggestion, Severus. We must not act rashly. However, I want constant surveillance on the Potters. Any significant movement or change must be reported immediately."
Snape bowed his head. "As you command, my Lord."
Voldemort's expression softened slightly, a rare occurrence. "You have served me well, Severus. Continue to do so, and you shall be greatly rewarded."
"Thank you, my Lord," Snape replied, his voice filled with genuine reverence.
As Snape left the chamber, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The information about Lily and her child was crucial, and he needed to find a way to protect her without arousing suspicion. The stakes had never been higher, and he knew that every move he made from now on could determine the future of the wizarding world.
The only problem was that the only way he could think of saving Lily was through Dumbledore. And Dumbledore was definitely not a big fan of his.
1 June 1980, just outside of Hogsmeade village
The wind howled through the trees, masking the soft pop of Dumbledore's Apparition. He stood before Severus Snape, his robes billowing dramatically, his face illuminated by the faint light of his wand in the wee hours before dawn.
Snape started, his hand flying to his wand. "Don't kill me!" he pleaded, desperation clear in his voice.
"That was not my intention," Dumbledore replied calmly, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness.
Snape was wringing his hands, his straggling black hair whipping around his face, giving him a slightly deranged appearance. He seemed on the verge of breaking, the weight of his actions pressing heavily upon him.
"Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?" Dumbledore asked, his tone measured. He had a very strong suspicion that he was here under false pretences, but given the state of the war he had no choice but to investigate the chaim made by owl.
"No—no message—I'm here on my own account!" Snape stammered, his voice tinged with panic. He took a step closer, pleading for Dumbledore to listen, knowing that his life hung in the balance.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Speak then."
"I came to warn you," Snape began, his voice trembling. "I've relayed a part of Trelawney's prophecy to the Dark Lord. He believes it refers to Lily Potter."
Dumbledore's expression remained calm, but his eyes hardened slightly. "The prophecy did not refer to a woman," he said. "It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—"
"You know what I mean!" Snape interrupted, his desperation mounting. "He thinks it means her unborn son. He is going to hunt her down in Upper Flagley—kill them all—"
"If she means so much to you," Dumbledore said, a note of curiosity in his voice, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"
"I have—I have asked him to wait at least until the child is born—" Snape's voice broke, his eyes pleading with Dumbledore for understanding.
Dumbledore's expression turned to one of deep contempt. "You disgust me," he said, his voice colder than Snape had ever heard. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"
Snape said nothing, but his eyes bore into Dumbledore's, a silent plea for help. He was a man torn apart by his actions, driven by a love that had twisted into something dark and desperate.
"And what will you give me in return, Severus?" Dumbledore's voice was soft but firm, demanding the depth of Snape's commitment.
"In—in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."
Dumbledore sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Very well, Severus. If you truly wish to save her, you must become my spy. You must relay to me everything you know about Voldemort's plans."
Snape nodded fervently, relief washing over his features. "I will do anything. Just protect her. Protect Lily."
With a terse nod, Dumbledore apparated away, leaving Snape alone in the cold, moonlit night.
As the silence settled around him, Snape felt the weight of his decisions crashing down on him. The breakdown that had been building since fifth year finally began to unravel him. Memories of his cruel words to Lily, the unforgivable slur of "Mudblood" that had severed their friendship, flooded his mind. He had thrown away the only true friendship he had ever known in a moment of anger and pride.
And then, the bitter recollection of calling her a "whore" during their last encounter at Hogwarts. He had been consumed by jealousy, watching her grow closer to James Potter, a boy he had despised. But his words had been unforgivable, a deep wound that could never truly heal.
He sank to his knees, the anguish overwhelming him. How had he allowed his love for Lily to become so corrupted? How had he turned into this bitter, hateful man? Tears streamed down his face as he finally allowed himself to feel the full weight of his guilt and regret.
"I'm so sorry, Lily," he whispered into the night, his voice breaking. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted to protect you."
Snape reflected bitterly that, had he not made her turn away from him absolutely, the Death Eater children at school would have used her like a tool to break him in and prove his loyalty. He had thought by alienating her, he could save her from becoming a target, believing that if she were seen as an enemy, she might escape the wrath of his cruel comrades. But all he had done was sever the one pure bond he had ever known.
The darkest thought of all gnawed at his mind—the fatal mistake of relaying the prophecy to Voldemort. Never in a million years had he thought it could refer to the Potters. He didn't even know Lily was pregnant. How could he have known that the prophecy he overheard, the prophecy he shared to prove his loyalty, would put her and her family in mortal danger?
He had been so focused on gaining favour with Voldemort, so consumed by his need to belong, that he had overlooked the most crucial detail. And now, Lily was in danger because of him. He had been the instrument of her potential destruction.
The darkness around him seemed to press in closer, a physical manifestation of his torment. He had made so many wrong choices, driven by his desperation and misguided loyalty to a dark cause. And now, he was left with nothing but the hope that he could somehow make amends, that he could save Lily from the fate he had unwittingly set in motion.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Snape stood, his resolve hardening. He would become Dumbledore's spy, he would do whatever it took to protect Lily and atone for his sins. It was the only way he could find redemption, the only way he could begin to heal the wounds he had caused.
With a final, shuddering breath, Snape apparated away, determined to start his new path, one fraught with danger and deceit, but one that might just lead him to the salvation he so desperately sought.
1 June 1980, Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office
The first light of dawn filtered through the ancient windows of Hogwarts, casting long shadows across Dumbledore's office. The meeting with Snape had not been a waste; the headmaster had gleaned valuable intel, enough to act immediately. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he prepared to send a crucial message.
He raised his wand and whispered, "Expecto Patronum." A brilliant silver phoenix burst forth, filling the room with a soft, ethereal glow. The majestic creature hovered for a moment, awaiting his instructions.
"Go to the Potters," Dumbledore commanded, his voice urgent but calm. "Inform them that their location has been compromised and they must prepare to evacuate immediately. Tell them I am already arranging another safe house, but until then, they must stay vigilant and be ready to move at a moment's notice."
The phoenix dipped its head in understanding before soaring out of the window, disappearing into the early morning light.
Dumbledore watched the Patronus until it vanished from sight, his mind racing with the implications of the information he had received. He knew he had to act swiftly to protect not only the Potters but the entire Order.
He turned to his desk and began writing a series of urgent missives, his quill moving swiftly across the parchment. Each letter was addressed to a trusted member of the Order of the Phoenix, individuals he could rely on without question. He feared there might be a spy among them; how else could Voldemort have learned of the Potters' location?
The letters were simple: Operation Phoenix Flame
This would ensure that information from now on would be kept at a very minimum need-to-know basis within the Order. The next time they had a leak they would be able to narrow down who might have betrayed them.
Dumbledore sealed each letter with his personal seal, then summoned Fawkes. The phoenix appeared in a burst of flame, its eyes shining with intelligence and understanding.
"Fawkes, I need you to deliver these messages to the members of the Order," Dumbledore said, handing the letters to the phoenix. "Make sure they understand the urgency and the need for utmost secrecy."
Fawkes took the letters in his beak and, with a graceful flap of his wings, disappeared in a flash of fire.
Dumbledore sighed, the weight of the world pressing heavily on his shoulders. He walked over to the window and gazed out at the grounds of Hogwarts, his mind filled with thoughts of the looming threat. The safety of the Potters, the potential betrayal within the Order, and the increasing power of Voldemort all weighed heavily on him.
He knew that the coming days would be some of the most challenging they had ever faced. But he also knew that with courage, unity, and vigilance, they could overcome the darkness that threatened to engulf them all.
Turning back to his desk, Dumbledore began to formulate the next steps of their plan, determined to stay one step ahead of Voldemort and protect those who stood against him. The fight was far from over, and he was ready to lead the charge.
A/N: I'm using a scene from the books almost word for word between Dumbledore and Snape, though it probably happened a bit later in canon. If I had to guess that encounter led to Dumbledore urging the Potters to use the Fidelius, but I'm taking creative liberties here to use it as means of Snape alerting Dumbledore earlier to the Potters being in danger. Obviously, I own nothing.