discord. gg/Astraeus (Remove Space)
A link to my discord, Astraeus, for those of you who may find yourselves interested. We have an active community and regular conversations about all types of fanfiction and other media, as well as a recommendations channel for some good or great reads. I also do Q and A, as well as general discussion about my work, and you can sign up for alerts to update you when new chapters are posted. Hope to see you there.
Chapter One
Saturday November 21, 1981
The steady drizzle which settled into the valley days ago persisted into the afternoon, the water creating endless streams as it ran its course down the massive windows, each of them spanning two full floors in the west hall of Ravenhill. The winter chill had already settled in for the year, and it wouldn't likely be long before the precipitation changed to snow. The peaks in the surrounding area were already white-capped and soon the green wonderland of the estate would be turned pale - only the hardy evergreen Holly trees would be left peaking through like bursts of colour.
The large manor which had served as the home of the Potter family for countless generations would weather the winter as it always did, the powerful wards both ancient and still thrumming with magic making certain that Ravenhill wouldn't see the worst of it.
Still, the chill which settled into the air seemed to have also leeched itself deep into Lily Potter's bones, and no matter how much she tried it wouldn't seem to leave her. The fire crackling merrily behind her in the hearth gave nothing to her comfort, and once more she felt the hot, stinging tears well into her vision. She'd never known a single place to feel so empty.
Harry had been silent all afternoon. He hadn't spoken a word in days, and she still couldn't shake that crushing weight from her shoulders as she remembered his cries. She'd held him close through the funeral, both of them watching as James was laid to rest that very same morning in the family cemetery. Harry was only three-years-old and already forced to watch his father be buried. A week before, he'd stood with her at James' side in his final moments at St. Mungo's.
If not for the aid of Dobby and their other close friends Lily wasn't sure what she'd have done. She loved Harry more than her own life, but with the loss of her husband at only twenty-one leaving her a widow with a toddler to raise, she'd seemed to fall apart. The entire week leading up to the burial she'd barely found it within her to keep herself together, let alone try and keep up with his needs. As if everything else wasn't bad enough she was seemingly failing as a mother as well.
Now, after all was said and done she was left with the shattered pieces of the life she'd only begun to build. The immense Ravenhill which she hadn't seen since James' parents died seemed ready to swallow her whole, and though it'd only been days, she already felt more lonely than she could ever remember feeling in her life. Every time she'd lost someone, whether during the war or to the cruelty of fate itself, she'd always had James to fall back on. Without him there to catch her Lily felt as if she may continue falling forever.
Just when everything seemed as if it might turn out alright, in the end...
The dreaded prophecy which had chased them into hiding in the first place seemed to set the stage for everything that followed. Albus had come to them, fearful of a foretelling of an end to the Dark Lord - one that was apparently a direct threat upon the life of their son. She'd thought it rubbish, as had James, but he'd insisted that Voldemort, at the very least, believed it to be true. He was hunting them, and not only their family but the Longbottoms as well. They'd been forced to hide away for Harry's sake, and had entrusted their very closest friends to help them remain secure.
The fact that they'd lived in the cottage in Godric's Hollow made it simpler for them than it was for Frank and Alice, and they'd chosen the Fidelius Charm to ensure their survival - because if the Dark Lord wanted someone dead, the only question which remained was when he would succeed, not if. Lily was unsure what measures the Longbottoms took, but he'd found them first anyway.
Only three weeks ago, when they'd been celebrating Halloween with Harry in their small home, they'd been interrupted by a message from the Order of the Phoenix - the Dark Lord had found the Longbottoms, and they'd made him pay the price for it at the cost of their very own lives. Lily didn't know what they'd done - nobody did - but when he came for young Neville it was his final act.
Frank and Alice were killed, their child scarred, but they'd taken Voldemort with them. It was speculated quietly that they'd used their very own sacrifice to fuel a protection for their son, and when Voldemort turned his wand on Neville Longbottom that protection destroyed him completely. Old Magic, some had called it, even as they raised a toast to two of the greatest Aurors and heroes the wizarding world had ever known.
Frank and Alice were dear friends of both Lily and James, and so despite the need to remain in hiding her husband had left to help the Order in any way he could that night. He'd returned late the following morning, exhausted and crippled by the tragedy which befell their friends, but with a renewed sense of hope as well. Lord Voldemort was finally gone from their world.
Despite the loss of even more life that night, the relief in hearing about his downfall had been nearly overwhelming. That monster had been terrorising Wizarding Britain since they were school children, leading massacres and torturing the innocent, and after years of heartbreak and tragedy he was gone. The Potters couldn't find it within them to celebrate as the rest of the country seemed to do, but they'd finally held a very real hope for a brighter future for their family.
In the two weeks which followed that fateful night, Lily and James took their turns working closely with the Order, and through that organisation with connection to Auror Moody, they'd helped the Ministry in flushing out and rounding up the remaining Death Eaters. The terrorists were aimless without their lord, fearful and making mistakes, and the Aurors were finally moving with a full head of steam to run them down. It was finally coming to an end, and they'd let down their guard which they'd kept up their entire adult lives.
Then, as fate couldn't allow them a moment's peace, tragedy would strike once more.
On the evening of November 12, 1981 while she was putting Harry down to bed, their home was attacked by four Death Eaters, only one of them bothering to wear a mask. James met them on the ground floor, and the eruption of screaming and spellfire alerted Lily to the attack as James seemingly tore their house apart in an effort to destroy those who'd dare attack their family. Lily had run to help, but she hadn't made it past the top of the staircase when James screamed at her to get Harry and get out.
She listened, though she now wished she hadn't. Lily recalled a single, desperate slash of her wand removing the anti-apparition jinx she'd painstakingly erected months before, and then scooping Harry from his bed. The single fastest apparition of her life saw the pair of them crashing into the floor of Sirius' London flat, where she'd screamed at him for help, the magical backlash from her actions feeling as if she'd nearly splinched herself in half.
By the time Sirius realised what was going on and went to help James it was too late. He was still alive, barely, but he was bleeding from cursed wounds and had been tortured for information about the Dark Lord's whereabouts. Sirius side-alonged him to St. Mungo's, dangerous as it was, but the cursed wounds wouldn't close through traditional means. Lily and Harry arrived only in time for him to murmur a few, nonsensical words to them. He died within the hour.
It'd been just over a week since that night, and she couldn't seem to rationalise everything in her mind. It didn't feel real, despite having to bury him earlier in the afternoon. It felt as if he should be walking through the door any moment looking for his son to throw up into the air. To hug Lily from behind and ask how her day was. It wasn't fair.
"Lily," she heard from somewhere in the room behind her, recognizing the voice to be Albus Dumbledore. "I'm truly sorry to disturb you my dear, but once more there's been a message sent in regards to the reading."
She choked, a small but horrific sound that did very little to describe the agony she felt. "Not today," she answered. "Just please...set it up for some other day."
"Of course," he responded quietly. "I shall explain that you need more time. Would you be amenable to having them contact me to prepare the proceedings? I will, of course, notify you of any decisions or questions."
Lily nodded twice quickly, but couldn't seem to keep enough air in her lungs to actually speak more. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself, and it seemed as if something was restricting her airflow. After a brief moment she seemed to get just enough composure to speak a few words. "Harry, is he..."
"Sleeping," he replied. "Dobby is watching over him currently, and Remus is nearby should he require anything."
Again Lily nodded, but she couldn't seem to keep the guilt from clawing at her. She was supposed to be strong for him, to reassure her son that everything was going to be okay yet she couldn't seem to find the strength to actually go through with it. How could she possibly lie to him, muster up a smile and tell him how everything would work itself out?
James was dead, buried and cold. Sirius had taken off after the funeral in a storming fury and nobody could contact him. Remus had already talked about how he wasn't sure if he could stick around much longer. Dumbledore would be gone by the evening back to the castle – the school term still ongoing despite the rest of the world seeming to fall apart. Their other friends were either dead or in hiding, rightfully fearful that what happened to James would happen to them as well.
Everything was falling apart, and she didn't feel like she was strong enough to hold it all together.
"You need to rest, my dear." Albus said gently. "I cannot begin to comprehend the nature of your suffering, but you've barely closed your eyes these last days. I took the liberty of procuring a sleeping potion from Horace. It's in the kitchen, along with a small meal and some water. I ask that you please take advantage of them. Perhaps in the light of a new day your burdens may seem slightly more bearable."
Realising that he was likely preparing to leave, Lily exerted herself to finally make her request. "The...the portrait," she said, her lips trembling. "Can you...would you please...?"
"I shall place it in stasis, if you would like, until you're ready to decide otherwise. Would you like for me to move it?"
She shook her head rapidly, unsure if such a thing were even possible and unwilling to try.
James' portrait was in the Hall of Honor alongside those of his forefathers who'd fought and fallen in service to Great Britain. The clever enchantments of the Potter home were inlaid into the very foundations of the building, and there were many rooms which would display the history of the family and those who came before. Once a member of the family died, the magic of Ravenhill would activate their portrait and, depending on several factors, decide where that portrait should be displayed.
The Hall of Honor was just outside the main study for the head of the family in the south wing, with a view overlooking the bulk of the valley and the lakes below it. It was, according to James' father, the single most prestigious place they could ever hope to be placed. James was there now, alongside his father Charlus, who'd fallen early in the war, and his grandfather William who fell on the continent fighting against Grindelwald.
Despite the fact she had to pass by it whenever she wished to enter the study which held all of the official business she was now forced to handle, Lily would never try to remove his portrait from its proper place.
"If it's no trouble tell Remus that he's welcome to one of the guest rooms if he'd like. Or if he'd prefer to leave, that's fine as well. Just let Dobby know to prepare one. I...I think I'll take your advice on the potion, so I won't be good company either way."
The thought of closing her eyes and a deep, dreamless sleep sounded almost heavenly. Harry hadn't been sleeping well all week, one reason he was taking an irregular nap this time of the day. Perhaps she'd give him a small dose as well and they could both take some time to just rest.
Sirius Black stood in the wet and the cold uncaring, his hollow eyes fixed upon the corpse of his former friend.
Mousy brown hair that was prematurely balding was clinging to Peter's face in the rain, his pale expression frozen into fearful surprise. Blood was already spreading from beneath him, a hole twice the size of a galleon punched directly through the centre of his chest allowing it to pour onto the street rapidly. Peter Pettigrew had been dead the moment Sirius tracked him down, the rat hadn't even finished the first word before he was struck by the spell.
His formal black attire was wet and heavy, as Sirius hadn't even bothered to change after the funeral. It bothered him even less than the screams of terror that were slowly fading as the people on the crowded street ran in fear from the murder performed in broad daylight. There was a sharp crack, one after another as the Aurors arrived, and the clattering noise of his wand striking the pavement at his feet.
The entire world felt muted and dull, and Sirius still hadn't moved his gaze from the blank eyes of his former brother. Only Peter could've given the location of James' family to the Death Eaters, and to confirm that he was skulking about when they'd searched for him the past week in vain proved that he hadn't been tortured and killed for that information. That was enough for Sirius to decide his guilt, and his punishment.
The four of them had sworn an oath on their very blood years ago, an oath of loyalty and an oath of honour. Again they'd sworn an oath of protection the night Harry was born three years ago, the first born heir of their legacy. Finally, Peter had sworn a different kind of oath the night he agreed to be secret keeper for James' wife and son. The breaking of those oaths was to be repaid in blood, there was no other alternative.
Somewhere, distantly, he knew that he'd just broken those same oaths in his own way. In the event of James' death, Sirius was to look after Harry and Lily, to stand as a pillar for them to cling to for as long as they needed, but the betrayal of one brother which led to the death of another...perhaps he had more of the Black family in him than he claimed. Retribution, swift and bloody, was the only solution in his mind – no imprisonment, no explanations. Peter had to die for what he'd done, and now Sirius Black would pay for his own sins.
He didn't resist as the Aurors took him into custody.
As darkness fell and the rain finally relented, Remus Lupin glanced back at the large home of his first and oldest friend. Lily and Harry were sleeping, everyone else was already gone, and as he clenched his shrunken and battered trunk in his pocket, Remus reasoned to himself that this was for the best.
With James gone he was lost. He had no idea how to help either of the two left behind by this tragedy, and there wasn't much help he could give in the first place. He was just as broken. They had support – much more than he could offer – in Dumbledore and Sirius and even the Weasleys if needed. Gold would never be an issue for them, and the comfort they needed he didn't feel like he could offer.
As the war tapered to nearly nothing, laws were already being shouted for to punish the dark creatures who'd aided Voldemort, including werewolves, and he couldn't drag James' family down with him. It was better this way.
A sharp crack of apparition announced his retreat as his own cowardice chased him away.
Across the country in Cokeworth, a shabby brick house rose from the rubbish-filled streets of Spinner's End, surrounded by similar homes which were long-abandoned and near enough to be uninhabitable. Within the walls of the dreary building, however, the view was much cleaner, if cramped, and a warm glow from the fireplace cast flickering shadows across a pale face.
Severus Snape stared curiously at the dark wand which rested on the table before him, uncaring of the slow feeling of inebriation which was beginning to cloud his senses. The half-gone bottle of whiskey which sat next to the wand was ignored as well, until he found his glass to be empty that is.
It was a curious feeling, knowing that the wand – his wand – had done something that he'd been wishing for since he was a boy. It had always been a treasure, had always made his dreams a reality, and once more it hadn't failed him.
It had taken him out of squalor and abuse at the hands of his worthless father when he was only eleven. It had performed magical feats that, while relatively mundane, had captured the early attention of the only girl he would ever love. The wand had allowed him to make a name for himself in Slytherin House, even as a lowly half-blood.
When he finally left school, it had allowed him to take revenge upon Tobias, who'd finally crossed the line and took his anger past the point of no return, killing Severus' mother in a drunken rage. Eileen remained too broken to even raise her own wand in defence of herself. The muggle prison which held his father had been no issue for Severus' wand, and the green light of the killing curse had never come so easily.
The wand had even allowed him to stand tall beneath the banner of the Dark Lord, recognized for his brilliance and his strength, and only the danger to Lily Evans (she would never be a Potter) had driven him to break from that path and alert the Headmaster to the danger she faced.
Finally, after so many years of anguish and prayer, it had allowed him an opportunity to take his vengeance upon his most hated adversary. The satisfaction as a spell of his own creation ripped into the flesh of James Potter was, perhaps, even better than he ever imagined it could be. Already overwhelmed by Bellatrix and her husband, Potter hadn't even a moment to shield himself from the curse.
Sectumsempra…
The look of surprised pain that caused the man to pause, and then the hail of spellfire that tore into him as his defence failed...it was perhaps the most satisfying moment of Severus Snape's life. The man who tortured him, and then took everything that Severus ever wanted. The others had their fun with Potter after that, but Severus only watched on hungrily as the man slowly bled to death. After getting no information, the others – wisely – scattered, but not Snape. He wanted to stay and to watch as life left those eyes.
The arrival of Sirius Black ruined that, and Severus was forced to flee as well, but he was slightly mollified by the fact that Potter's death was announced early the next morning. Even better was the fact that Lily had escaped without harm. He'd been fully willing to turn his wand upon his companions had they cornered her.
Days later when the Lestrange trio were caught by the Aurors, they were far to fanatical to even mention his name, unwilling to say anything aside from proclaiming their allegiance to the Dark Lord. He was safe beneath the blanket of Albus Dumbledore's protection. After what he'd done over the last several years Lily Evans would likely never be his, but the wand in front of him had made certain that she would never belong to Potter again either, and that would have to be enough.
The Daily Prophet to his immediate left was open to a page announcing the funeral of James Potter, held at his family estate just that afternoon, and with a twisted, half-smirk, Snape raised a toast to the attached photo of his worst enemy.
"I win, Potter," he murmured.
Monday, December 7th, 1981
Offices of Joseph R. Warren, Solicitor
Moving forward in life without her husband, Lily was quickly realising, was the most difficult thing she'd ever had to do. The world didn't stop turning like she felt it should've, and the few times she'd ventured out from home, her heart seemed to break a little more until she finally just decided to stay indoors for a while.
People were celebrating, shops were opening – some new ones and some old ones who'd shut their doors for the duration of the war. Families were, for the first time in years, beginning to populate Diagon Alley again. Florean's was open, serving his frozen treats with a smile on his face despite the winter chill, and hope seemed to have returned to the masses. Gringotts was booming, the economy seeming to swing upwards overnight as the witches and wizards began to once more buy and sell and do their very best to forget that a civil war had ever taken place.
Trials were ongoing, and the Prophet ran daily special editions for all the Death Eaters who'd been arrested following Voldemort's fall. Some were sent to Azkaban, while others who had the disposable resources were not. Some who were captured appeared genuinely innocent, and it became a murky business telling who was who. Many of them, Lily knew, had never even been caught in the first place and were allowed to go on with their lives as if they'd just gone on holiday.
Throughout it all, she kept feeling that same crushing weight on her chest as she realised that, outside of close friends, the death of James Potter hadn't seemed to make a difference in the world.
Thinking of close friends, the lump which was permanently stuck in her throat seemed to tighten as she remembered the trial of Sirius Black, the only one she could bring herself to attend. He wasn't accused of being a Death Eater, but the fact that he'd murdered Peter in broad daylight the day of James' funeral didn't paint him in any better light.
She'd spoken on his behalf, as had Dumbledore, but the facts were still the facts. Despite the legal counsel she arranged for him, the best they were able to do was reduce the charge of murder instead to manslaughter. He would still spend 12 years in Azkaban for killing a fellow wizard – the faded Dark Mark on Peter's arm, irrelevant. Barty Crouch was not a forgiving man.
"I'm sorry, Lily…"
The words he muttered as he was dragged from the room by the Aurors was just another shard of glass in her heart. He wasn't sorry for killing Peter, she knew – Lily wasn't sorry the rat was dead either. Sirius was sorry for the switch, sorry for the 'prank' which they'd decided would be genius, and had incidentally placed the life of her family in the hands of a traitor. Sirius would've died before giving their location up, and Peter had seemed to do so willingly.
Remus was gone in the wind, hadn't even shown up for the trial. He'd disappeared somewhere into the muggle world and he'd placed some enchantment on himself so owls couldn't find him. They just kept returning with the letters. Dumbledore allowed her to send a letter with Fawkes – whom Remus couldn't hide from – but there'd been no response.
It didn't matter. Lily already had one boy to look after and if Remus wanted to behave that way she'd let him. She just didn't have it in her to deal with another child. She knew he was hurting and lost, but so was she. While it stung her own sense of independence, she just wished he was there so she could lean on him, just for a while.
Instead she found herself alone. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Alice, Marlene, Frank...all gone, in one fashion or another. She could name a dozen more friends and at least three dozen more classmates who were either dead or imprisoned, and while she knew it wasn't true, she felt like she was all that was left. Just her and Harry.
She tried phoning Tuney while she was in London, but Vernon slammed the telephone receiver as soon as he heard her voice. It seemed she was still unwelcome at her sister's house. It was probably just as well. James nearly killed the man after her mother's funeral, and the hate in Tuney's eyes was something Lily still hadn't forgotten.
"Mrs Potter, it's time," a woman spoke softly. Heather, the secretary for the solicitor who was handling James' final will. She was a rather strict looking woman, with dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and a severe face. Still, she'd been nothing but kind to Lily and so she tried to smile at the witch who was only doing her job. It didn't feel like it formed correctly on her face, but it would have to do. It's all she had to give.
"Thank you," said Lily, rising from her chair to follow her.
"Forgive me, but, are we waiting on anyone…?" the woman asked hesitantly.
Lily nearly choked, but she'd become very good at holding it in these past few weeks. "Just me," she answered quietly. It seemed to make the woman uncomfortable that she'd asked, and she nodded quickly.
"Of course, if you'll please follow me."
She was led through the office which she'd only visited once before, just after she and James were married. It was owned by a wizard named Joseph Warren who was beginning to get on in his years but who's family had worked with the Potters in the past. The man himself was already in the room when they arrived, and she tried not to allow it to bother her that there would be nearly a dozen empty chairs around the large table.
"Lady Potter, thank you for coming," he began, standing and giving her a short bow. "I'd like to apologise for the early notice, which I was informed caused you some distress at this difficult time. Our notices are automated and, unfortunately, if they aren't responded to they're sent again just to confirm that they're received."
"It's no trouble, thank you Mr. Warren," she replied. The man was well dressed in a set of sharp navy robes with a black tie, and though his grey hair was balding and his shoulders beginning to hunch over, his dark eyes were very clear and focused, she noticed.
"Heather, if you'd please bring us some water and tea, that would be lovely. Is there anything else I can offer?" he asked, but Lily shook her head.
"Just water would be fine."
Lily noticed that there were several folders of documents laid out on the table, some of them bearing the official seal of the Ministry, and others the mark of Gringotts, while still others held the Potter coat of arms – two crossed wands over a red field, with a holly branch hanging above it. On either side of the branch perched a raven, and at the bottom was a banner with the family motto:
Novissima Inimica Destruetur Mors – The last enemy to be destroyed is Death.
The crest was as familiar to her as her own hand. She'd seen it ever since her first year in Hogwarts, when James was still a prat and flashed his family ring at anyone who looked at him long enough. It hung above her head during their wedding, and it was imprinted on the casket James was buried in. On Harry's bedroom door at the cottage, on the gates of Ravenhill, the wax seal James always used for his letters…
While Lily didn't really understand, having grown up in the Muggle world, there was a lot of pride held in that symbolism.
"Please have a seat, and forgive me if I'm a bit disorganised at the moment," said Mr. Warren. "I've gone through a lot of similar proceedings as of late, and I find myself a little out of sorts."
Once she'd taken a seat he did so as well, pulling the spread of documents closer to himself. He looked through several and then began stacking them in a manner of organisation only he could understand. Lily found herself slightly uncomfortable. She hadn't really dealt with this sort of thing before, as her parents never left a will and Tuney took almost everything before she even knew they passed. Now, at age twenty-one, she found herself a widow and stumbling from one task to the next.
Heather entered the room once more with a tray floating in front of her outstretched wand – a jug of water and a pot of tea, with cups and glasses and cream and sugar. She sat it down quickly and left the room, closing the door behind her. Mr Warren stood, pouring her a glass of water, and himself a steaming cup of tea.
"Now then, I will apologise in advance for any distress this meeting may cause you, and at any point if you'd like to step out or take a break, feel absolutely free to do so. I also have some calming droughts, still sealed from Slug & Jiggers, should you need to avail yourself of one," he said kindly. "I will begin by asking a few questions, and then we will move on to initiating Probate, which if you are unfamiliar, is just a fancy term for officially opening the Last Will and Testament. It will begin with settling any outstanding claims or debts, and then we move into naming beneficiaries and dividing assets. As a final step, we will read the final words of Lord James Charlus Potter. As you are his wife and are the sole witness here today, I will leave those words for you to read alone."
Lily nodded silently, taking a shuddering breath to try and prepare herself. Her mouth felt suddenly dry, and she was thankful for the water provided.
"Then let us begin," he said. "First, I would like to ask if there is anyone we should contact before we proceed. I understand that your husband named several people in the will, and while the memory will not be available to me until we begin Probate, I do distinctly remember several persons mentioned. I have the necessary means to contact them if you'd like for me to."
Lily shook her head. "I can guess some of who he would've named, and they're likely either...they're not available. I tried to contact those who remain, but I was unable to."
"Of course," the man nodded. "There is also the matter of charitable donations. As his wife, if there are any assets which are due to be paid, but cannot be received due to a deceased beneficiary or another legal reason, it is your decision if you'd like to donate those assets to charity, or keep them for your family. All relevant donations will be filed with the Ministry, and paid out at the same time as the rest of the assets."
"I...I imagine there will be some," she said, the traitor's face flashing through her thoughts. "Any monetary assets can be split between the Hogwarts Muggleborn Fund and St. Mungo's evenly. James liked to donate to them at least once each year around Christmas time. Any properties should instead be kept in trust for Harry, our son."
"Naturally," Mr. Warren said, nodding once more and scratching away with his quill on a form upon which she could just see the seal of the Ministry in the corner. "If there is anything that is neither monetary, nor property – such as personal items or perhaps heirlooms – we shall have to decide what you'd like to do as we come to them."
Lily nodded her agreement, and watched as he pulled several folders toward himself.
"Now, if you are in agreement, I will break the seal on these documents, this day, the 7th of December, in the year 1981."
Lily hadn't noticed before, but there was a self-writing quill on the table in the corner which was copying each word down onto a roll of parchment. Realising that he likely needed a verbal queue to begin, she replied, "Of course."
A tap of Mr. Warren's wand on the top-most folder caused it to spring open, and a piece of what looked to be Spell-O tape twisted into the air briefly before vanishing into a little puff of smoke.
"First, as stated before, we have a list of outstanding claims or debts." Mr. Warren began. "There appears to be only one – a single charge of unauthorised apparition while intoxicated, a fine given by an 'Auror Padfoot', and filed with the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transportation on the 22nd of February, in the year 1981. The fine is in the amount of 1 galleon, 1 sickle and 1 knut."
Lily closed her eyes and tried to even out her breathing. "Sirius wasn't an Auror," she muttered through clenched teeth. Trust those two buffoons to kick her in the stomach with one of their pranks on a day like this.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, looking up at her in confusion.
"Of course, sir, I apologise," she said, taking a slow, deep breath. "We can settle that immediately."
"Excellent," he responded, once more filling in a form with the Ministry's seal on it. How in the hell Sirius had managed to fool the Department of Magical Transportation into believing he was an Auror was, frankly, somewhat disturbing. And trust James to receive the ridiculous fine and refuse to pay it on principle. He probably laughed about it.
"Next, we come to the beneficiaries," Mr. Warren continued, oblivious to her thoughts. He moved the folders around until he was holding those with the seal of Gringotts, as well as several with the Potter coat of arms. "We have a total of sixteen beneficiaries, not including yourself and young Harry to whom the bulk of the assets will be given. This was changed from the twenty-three beneficiaries, two years hence, when eight beneficiaries were removed by Lord James Charlus Potter, giving the reason that they were deceased, with no living relatives. It was changed once more, just over a year ago, to add a single beneficiary. We can begin when you're ready."
Lily nodded, wondering just how many on that list were still alive. "I'm ready, Mr. Warren," she said, unsure if it was required for the process, but trying to fumble her way through it anyway.
"First, is a contract with one Garrick Ollivander, which has existed, and is to exist in perpetuity, for the rights to access a total of four properties belonging to the Potter family. This is stated for the purpose of gathering necessary supplies for wand-crafting, and in return, the contract states that descendants of the Potter family are to receive their wands for a price of five galleons, regardless of inflation. This contract is to be upheld, in full, until either the Potter family no longer exists, or the Ollivander family no longer exists. This contract will require an updated signature by yourself, and once Harry James Potter becomes a legal adult, will once more have to be renewed."
Lily nodded and quickly signed the parchment he placed in front of her after a quick skim to be certain. She hadn't known about the contract, but it was very likely something that predated James or even his father. Taking a glance at the date the contract originally went into effect, Lily's eyes widened sharply to see only three digits for the year – more than a thousand years of history within such a simple piece of parchment.
She was certain she shouldn't have been allowed to sign it.
"Very good, this will be filed with the Ministry and a copy sent to Mr. Ollivander. Contracts such as this one are quite rare in these proceedings, as usually he who is next in line for the headship of the family would've already signed. They are filed with the Last Will and Testament just in case of a tragedy such as this one." the solicitor explained kindly.
Lily gave a shaky smile in thanks, but she really didn't want to talk about it. James would've signed alongside his father, then, and Harry should've as well…
"Next, we have a monetary sum of twenty galleons to 'Tom, the Bartender', owner of the Leaky Cauldron with a small note. 'A few rounds on me.' signed James Potter."
She didn't know why, but that small detail made her eyes sting and her throat burn, and she quickly pulled a tissue out of her pocket. It was such a simple thing, really, but it was so in line with his general outlook that it was almost as if she could hear him saying it.
"We have two more which say the same, one for an Aberfoth Dumbledore, owner of the Hog's Head pub, and another for a Madam Rosmerta, owner of The Three Broomsticks pub. May I assume that all three of those beneficiaries are of sound health and able to receive these assets?"
He kindly didn't remark on her sniffling as she nodded, merely turned back to his parchment and marked with his quill.
"Next we have a monetary sum in the amount of five thousand galleons, which is to be converted into the Muggle currency of Great British pounds, to be given to one Dudley Dursley. As it would appear that Mr. Dursley is currently a minor, these funds would be placed in trust for him at the Bank of England until such a time as he is a legal adult, or else can provide evidence of a great financial hardship. May I assume that he is also of sound health and able to receive these assets?"
Lily nodded and allowed herself to take a deep breath, acknowledging the man that her husband had become. Where once he'd been a foolish and prideful boy, he grew into a fine, generous and honourable man. No matter the issue he had with Dudley's father, the child was her nephew and James would have loved him all the same. He hadn't even told her he included her family, and as Dudley was only just a year old, that must have been the addition he made to the will.
Tuney and Vernon were not likely to receive anything, but it was just as well. She remembered how he'd bragged – at a funeral, no less – that he was well-off.
"Next we have a monetary sum in the amount of five thousand galleons, as well as a letter, to one Marlene McKinnon." he announced, and she was forced to stop him before he could ask.
"Th-That beneficiary is deceased, and has no known living relatives," she said, and once more she had to stop the outburst of tears she wanted to release. Marlene was her best friend, her roommate for seven years at Hogwarts and was Harry's Godmother. She'd been killed nearly eight months ago, her family home burned down to cinders.
"Of course," he muttered, marking down something on his parchment. "And the letter?"
"I'll keep it, for now," Lily answered. She wouldn't read it, not yet at least, but maybe one day when the loss of both of them was somehow more manageable.
"Moving on, we have a monetary sum of five thousand galleons, as well as a 'cat-scratch-post' and a letter to Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Mr Warren gave her a somewhat amused and dry look "She is, to the best of my knowledge, still of sound health and able to receive these assets."
Lily gave a sort-of choked laugh, nodding, even as she dabbed her eyes. Maybe James wasn't quite as grown-up as she believed.
"We also have a collection of books, which are currently stored in Gringotts, and a pair of wool socks for Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the same school. He is also, to the best of my knowledge, still of sound health, yes?"
Again she nodded, curious about the socks, but less so about the books. It was likely that they were so obscure as to be useless to anyone else – they could even be written in mermish, for all she knew.
"To a Frank- dear me," he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "To Frank and Alice Longbottom, we have the monetary sum of ten thousand galleons, as well as a collection of mediaeval weapons, and a full suit of armour. I..well, that is to say…"
"Neville should have them, though I would prefer he doesn't receive the weaponry for quite some time if you could make a note of that." she answered quietly, trying to smile at the man encouragingly. She wasn't certain if she pulled it off, but she understood his reaction. Frank and Alice were being hailed as heroes – rightfully so – and he probably didn't expect to read their names. It also was obvious there was no point in asking if they were able to receive the assets.
What the armour and weapons were for, only James and Frank would know.
"Yes well...there is also the sum of ten thousand galleons to Mr. Neville Longbottom, as well as a letter." he said, trying to get himself back together.
"James was Neville's Godfather, so I'm certain he'd still wish for him to have it all. I understand Augusta isn't taking any messages at the moment, but if your office has any issue with reaching them, I'll happily help," she offered. It was hard for everyone right now, and unlike some selfish people she understood that there was a boy without a father – or a mother for that matter. Things wouldn't go smoothly for quite some time until people had a chance to heal and grieve.
"My thanks, Lady Potter," Mr Warren said, clearing his throat once more and sitting straighter in his seat. "Nearly done now. We next have a monetary sum in the amount of five thousand galleons for Arthur and Molly Weasley, as well as a letter addressed to Arthur, and a box of jewellery for Molly. It is noted that the jewellery once belonged to Victoria Prewett, sold to William Potter in the year 1926. Lord James Potter would like to return them. May I assume that they are of sound health and able to receive these assets?"
"Yes," she confirmed, and while she hadn't expected to hear their names, she knew them to be good people. They had twin boys the same age as Harry, and she'd been able to become friends with them while working with the Order, despite them being quite a bit older than herself and James. That amount of money – and the heirlooms – would likely change their lives. They had six children and she'd heard a rumour that Molly had another on the way, Merlin help her.
"Lovely," he muttered, marking something down. "Next we have a monetary sum in the amount of ten thousand galleons for a Remus John Lupin, as well as a small warded property in Kielder Forest and a letter. May I assume that he is also of sound health and able to receive these assets?"
"He is, though you may have to deposit the letter in his Gringotts vault. He isn't taking post at the moment," Lily said quietly. The property was heavily warded, and one that James had helped him build so he'd have a safe space to change. As agitated as she was at him, she'd never deny him what James wished for him to have. He was a good friend, the best really, and despite running off so suddenly Lily only wanted good things for him. She'd also continue brewing his potion for him each month, in the hopes that he'd accept it.
"We have a monetary sum of ten thousand galleons, as well as a letter to a Peter Andrew Pettigrew," he began, however Lily had been waiting for his name to appear.
"Dead," she said, and the word may have come out more harshly than she intended. Mr. Warren looked at her quite oddly for a moment. "Burn the letter, please. The money goes to charity."
After another brief look at her, the elder man allowed a sad half-smile to cross his face, and nodded. He likely thought – and he was right – that another Death Eater had come to light just like so many others. "Of course," he muttered. "And finally we have a monetary sum for ten thousand galleons, as well as a case of Ogden's Finest and a letter to a Sirius Orion Black."
"He…" Lily shook her head. "He's imprisoned, though he will be released eventually. I guess just have everything deposited into his vault, and he can receive it upon his release."
"Yes, of course," he said, making a final notation, before stacking the folders to one side, and bringing a final group of them in front of him. "That concludes the beneficiaries, and all remaining assets belong to yourself and young Harry. The properties, I'm terribly sorry to say, will have to remain in possession of someone born to the Potter name. You can, of course, access them all, but due to the family trust you are not legally allowed to liquidate or distribute them. They are, for all purposes, young Harry's property. The vaults are open to you, though Gringotts will not allow you to withdraw more than half the remaining sum should you ever wish to. That too, I'm afraid, belongs to Harry Potter. This was not put into place by Lord James Potter, but has been held in trust for many generations. It is…"
"A fail-safe, I'm aware, sir," she said, and she tried to be as kind as possible about it. "James and I spoke about it before we married."
Technically she owned nothing, and for once it had nothing to do with her muggle blood, though it did have to do with her blood in general. It was a fail-safe for the rare chance that someone married into the family with bad intentions. The Potters could never lose more than half their wealth and none of their properties. It was common among the wealthy purebloods, and something that made sense.
"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "Alongside properties and liquid assets, there are also family heirlooms and several lucrative businesses, of which the Potters still have a vested interest in. These are also held in young Harry's name, though he will have only limited authority over them until he reaches adulthood. He can still access the benefits, such as free products and positive income, but he'll be unable to exert any executive authority over them."
This, she was also aware of. James' uncle Fleamont Potter started one of them, a potion company which produced Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, and the ever popular Sleekeazy's Scalp Treatment. She used both on Harry already, as it was the only known product created with the cursed Potter hair in mind. They showed up by the crate-full every few months, though she supposed that without James they would be using a lot less…
"All of this will be included in the documents you'll leave here with today, and if you have any questions, I'll be sure to make myself available for you. The final piece of business today is to have you sign some documents, closing things out, and then of course there are the final words of Lord Potter. These, I will leave with you. You can feel free to take them home and read them where you're more comfortable."
She agreed, and after a whirlwind of signing documents in between dabbing her puffy eyes and sniffling, she left with an arm full of parchment sealed away into several large folders. None of it really meant anything to her, but it would eventually and it certainly would to Harry.
The only thing she cared about at the moment was also the thing she found most terrifying. The final words of her husband, the boy who chased her for years without success, and the man she eventually came to love, marry, and start a family with. People told them they were foolish for having a child fresh out of school, and while there was a war on besides, but now, looking back, she was glad they did.
James may be gone, but she still had Harry, and if they'd waited who knows what may have happened. Maybe he wouldn't have been born at all, or maybe just later. Maybe they both would've died in the fighting without a precious little boy to come home to.
He was born at the right time. James got three long and wonderful years with his son, and Harry got to know his father much more than he would've if they'd waited.
Yeah, so this is it, huh? Last Will and Testament.
Figure it makes sense to get something like this in place, just in case, you know? The war's getting pretty bad, and you never know when your train's gonna come. There's a lot I wanna say, I guess, but not really sure how to say what matters.
Oh, and by the way, this is for Lily and Harry. If any of you other tossers are reading this, then piss off, yeah?
Anyway, guess if you're reading this then I didn't make it through the war. I've been trying to keep this thing updated, and if the war was over, I had a plan to change this whole thing. So if you're reading this version of it...I'm sorry.
It's funny, you know? In school, I always looked forward to getting out there, looked forward to joining the fight and standing up for what's right just like my dad. Me and Sirius and Remus and Wormy...well, not Wormy, he's not much of a fighter. I always had this picture in my head though, of us charging into battle, kicking arse and defending the innocent and all that. Never really...never really turned out that way.
Guess I was just as thick as Dad said I was when I told him I wanted to fight. I don't anymore, not really. The fighting isn't what I thought it'd be. People are still getting hurt, and worse, and sometimes it doesn't feel like I'm even making a difference. The world is a lot different than I thought it was, back then.
But then I come home to the pair of you, and...we have dinner, and we laugh, and I think about all the people that don't get to do that anymore. And then I decide I wanna fight all over again. I just want to fight and fight until it's all over, and then we can be a family. We can go to the parks, and go on holiday. We can fly on the pitch and I can teach Harry everything…
Guess that's all just a dream, now, but it's a damn good one.
I hope I just botched it. I hope I forgot all about updating this thing and we maybe got to do all of that. Maybe I'm an old man now and Harry's grown and he has sprogs of his own. Maybe we have another, who knows?
Ah, who am I kidding? Writing this has been on my mind for a while now, and I don't think I'd forget about it. I never want you to read this, either one of you. First chance I got I'd burn it. Just means I was a little too slow or a little too weak, and they got me.
Lily...I just want you to know that I love you, and that if I'm not there anymore, then I couldn't think of anyone else I would have wanted at my side all these years. I don't regret anything, and now that I'm gone, there isn't anyone I'd trust with my boy besides you. Since the first time I saw you back at school, I always knew I wanted to be with you. I may not have known exactly what that meant back then, but I do now, and nothing's changed.
I'm a little older (hopefully a lot older) and probably not any wiser, but I know that's still true.
Harry, if you're reading this, or maybe your Mum's reading it to you – sorry for all the lovey stuff, but you'll get it, one day. One day you're gonna find a girl that makes your head spin, a girl that twists you inside out and makes you feel things you don't understand and it's pretty scary, but you're gonna want to chase her anyway. Go for it, so long as she isn't holding a knife, I guess.
Learned that lesson the hard way…
Also, Harry, I left another letter for you. For when you're older and understand a little more. When you become a man, go into the study at Ravenhill, and talk to ol' Alfred. He'll tell you what to look for.
If the portrait of me bothers you any, either one of you, do whatever you need to with it. Talk to my granddad and he'll tell you how to get it down. Move it, lock it away, I don't care...I know how hard it was to face my dad, and I was already a man when he passed. Don't think you have to put up with that to honour me or something. I'd appreciate it if you didn't burn it, so maybe a piece of me lives on or something, but if that's what you feel like you gotta do...I guess I don't mind so much. Harry's the only piece of me that really needs to be in the world anyway.
Merlin, I don't know how to end this thing. There's a lot more I wanna say, and maybe my words are too jumbled to make any sense of anyway.
I could talk to the pair of you for days and days and still not have said enough. I just want to tell you how I feel and what I think, but I know this is probably pretty hard for you already. So I'll shut up.
I love you both – and just know that anything good there was of me came from you Lily, and I'm leaving it with you, Harry.
-Novissima Inimica Destruetur Mors
Author's Note:
Story recently went through an editing process to fix some grammatical errors and condense the story slightly. This only applies for Chapters 1-5, so I will be posting this note on them for those who may be re-reading and notice the difference. The overall story content is the same, just doing some work on it to clean it up a bit.
