The red moon flared to life. V̸̩̰̩̆̉̓̄̕͝ơ̷̡̨̢̛͔̠͖̜̄́̿̂͘͜l̷̻͈̹̲̟̯̈́̑̉̀̄̕͠d̶̨̬̫͙̓̀̈̐̍̒ę̴̤̪̘̥͕͙̏̎́͐m̷͍̤̖̑̈o̵̼͒̆r̷̼̘͚̣̥̂t̴̫̩͓̟̓̌͐̄͘.
It was him. He was right there, standing on the podium, giving a speech like it was the most normal bloody thing, except that suddenly, reality had stopped playing along.
Iris Lily Potter.
At this point, people should probably have started screaming. But right now, nobody seemed to be able to do anything other than listen. Listen for him to say his piece, as he had intended, as his words had demanded.
"Harry Potter... is dead. But it was not a mere charlatan like Gilderoy Lockhart who claimed him, no."
The podium now stood empty, except for one coffin, and one man, resting his hand on the wood, running long slender fingers along the dark mahogany patterns. He then flicked the hand up, and held it aloft, gently stretching his fingers.
"It was as prophecy has foretold. It was as it should have been. It was that one would in the end... inevitably kill the other."
He tilted his head slightly, and a small, gentle smile spread on his lips. "It was I."
She felt a gust of wind from somewhere behind her, almost like his robes were draping over her skin as he walked past without moving, and a voice spoke right over her shoulder, "I could tell you... of the grand clash of Fates between the Boy-Who-Lived, Slytherin's monster, my own immortal soul, and even his own sister..."
All the V̶̛̪o̸̰̍l̶͇͂d̶̘̓ȩ̸͋m̵̝͊o̶̱̒ŗ̵̇ţ̶̈́s were gone. All except the one, standing right in front of her, his fist clutching the front of her robes. Or was she standing on the center of the podium? Iris wasn't quite sure. Existence had taken the back seat, because right now, she was a tiny, tiny ant, in front of a towering giant as tall as a skyscraper. Everything around her had ceased to exist. Nothing. Nothing was left. Nothing except that burning sensation of his unyielding grip on her robes, dangling her above the infinite abyss, and those impossibly deep, burning Red eyes, s̴̹͋ẗ̵̬́a̸̹͆r̷̰̋i̶̢͒n̷͓͒g̵̳͐, ś̷̗̼̖͝t̸̪͕̯͉̋̈́ä̴̺͎̜̥́̍̚̕͜ř̸̡̟͓ì̸̦̮̭̏̎͊n̸̤̠̹͊̇̏̓̾g̴̯̱̼̮̾͊̇.
"Iris Potter. We finally meet... in the flesh, that is."
The world fell away, and for a moment it was like she was standing right there, back in her old Defense professors room, with him standing in front of his bookshelf, and he flipped a book shut to meet her gaze.
"Over a year it has been, and it appears we've both grown a fair amount since then. Some might think I would be justified to, shall we say... bear a grudge? But you will find that I am above such petty notions."
His fist opened back up, and she found herself suddenly back on her seat, completely lost, but somehow still alive, and back. Back inside reality.
"Although, in truth, I should thank you."
Fuck. Fuck! What the Fuck! She couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think! She had to... Iris Lily Potter. Iris Lily Potter, damn it! Why wasn't it working?!
"It is true... you could have been a subject of the prophecy. You might have been the one destined to defeat me. And I still stand by my words. You could have been great. But... in the end, Fate has chosen. And so have you. And let me tell you—"
"I think you have said enough."
The podium was no longer empty. Voldemort stood, in all his glory, to one side, where across from the coffin, there stood Dumbledore. It was as if a spell had broken, by nothing but Dumbledore's firm words.
"And you are mistaken on one account."
Voldemort slowly turned to face Dumbledore, who was holding a large ornate wand off to his side, with light seemingly twisting around it, and Iris found herself captured by Dumbledore's words instead.
"Fate is not done with you yet."
There was a sudden blur from right next to the podium, and hidden behind the first row, Iris recognized the shape of a dog—now a man, with a furious glare on his face as he raised his hand. But instead of a wand, he was holding a large, ornate brass key?
The key lit up in a blinding glow of pretty lights, and the ground started to shake.
Sirius clutched the glowing key with both hands, his face twisted into furious concentration, as the ground lit up, and a faint translucent wall of pretty lights flashed into existence around the two men facing off on top of the podium. It was by far not as pretty as the gigantic invisible one behind her which... was expanding? Whoa...
The shimmering wall grew, with everyone seemingly none the wiser, until Iris felt it wash over her, and it slowly enclosed the whole student body, before it came to a halt right in front of the podium.
The... wards of the castle? She guessed if the castle did live up to its moniker of being the safest place in all of Magical Britain, that should mean they'd hopefully be mostly safe inside them. The others, though?
When the wards finally came to a stop, Sirius collapsed onto one knee. With the way the whole ceremony was arranged, the only group he could enclose in the castle wards by expanding them without also including Voldemort was the students. Both the visitors, as well as the ministry workers were left firmly outside, only protected by whatever the blue shield was that had been created around the podium, as well as Dumbledore himself. She guessed Voldemort showing up right in the middle of the ceremony before he could expand the wards all the way had probably not been part of the plan.
A sole clap echoed through the silence, followed by another and another.
"Bravo, Dumbledore, bravo. This... all of this... yes, certainly an elaborate trap. I am well and thoroughly... disappointed."
Voldemort slowly began walking in a circle around the podium, with Dumbledore following suit, keeping his distance.
"You considered every single angle of attack... except the most obvious one," Voldemort shrugged, rolling a pale wand in his fingers.
"And now you are left with quite the dilemma, it appears..."
Voldemort flicked his wand and a ring of embers sizzled to life surrounding his feet, which after a second, burst into a blazing maelstrom of fire, flame and shadow twisted into one, swirling around him, and quickly expanding outwards.
"Will you try to snap your trap shut... or will you do what you always do... and attempt to save those who don't deserve it?"
"Dear boy... whatever made you think I would not do both?"
Sirius grinned, twisted the key, and suddenly, the faint bubble around Dumbledore and Voldemort solidified, then broke into a jagged hexagonal pattern and locked in place, trapping the two men inside, and the dark fire along with them.
It raged against the barrier, almost filling it entirely, turning the entire podium into an almost solid hexagonal block of pure fire, completely consuming the two men standing inside.
She had to do something, she had to stop being useless and... wake the fuck up! Get it together, Iris! Iris Lily Potter!
A scream pierced the silence that had enraptured every single onlooker as the moment was finally relinquished, followed by instant pandemonium. People were running, screaming, but even more worryingly, none of them were disappearing. She knew wizards could apparate... well, not within Hogwarts. Did that also apply here? That wasn't good.
"Iris! Come on! We need to run! We gotta get to the castle!" Tracey yelled over the noise, desperately clutching at Iris' arm despite the sheer terror in her eyes, trying to get her friend to safety.
Her eyes flicked across the crowd once again. In terms of students... everyone was inside the castle wards, so they were... probably fine? Iris had no idea. It was V̶̛̪o̸̰̍l̶͇͂d̶̘̓ȩ̸͋m̵̝͊o̶̱̒ŗ̵̇ţ̶̈́, after all. But everyone else? What about everyone else?
The smart thing to do would be for them to make a run for the castle. But to do that, they'd first have to get just a bit closer to the fucking Dark Lord, since they were on the other side of the podium, so this approach was seemingly the furthest from anyone's mind.
Iris shook her head and dragged her arm free. "You go ahead. I need to... I need to make sure this works!"
"You need to nothing! It's You-Know-Who! Dumbledore is up there! What the hell do you think you could even—"
She glanced up at the podium once more, the solid block of fire, and for a second, she thought she could spot a pair of r̵̟͗e̸̱͂d̴̯͝ ̸̧̿e̴̜̒y̶̬̅è̸̦s̷̬͠ peeking through... Gah! No. She had to do this. She could do this. Iris. Lily. Potter. Remember her name, keep him out, keep going, and fix this. She placed a hand on Tracey's shoulder, took a breath, and tried her best to convey her need to the girl to let her do this one last thing.
"Thank you, Tracey. But there's no other way. I can't let him hurt you. And I know there's something I can do. So if there's a chance... I have to do it. Go. I'll be fine."
Tracey stared at her for some time, but she had received the message. In a trance, she nodded, stepped back, and stumbled into the crowd of students trying to get the hell out of here.
Now. First part done, next she had to make sure nobody else realized she hadn't done the same. A glance towards the glowing hexagon showed it vibrating and shaking dangerously, the edges glowing in a bright orange light, and some sparks even escaping along the seams. One of them streaked all the distance towards the white cloth, which immediately caught fire and began to tear.
Professor Flitwick managed to extinguish the flames, but the scraps of the singed white cloth were now draped across the empty chairs, hanging all the way to the ground in several places. Iris dove for a corner of the seating area, where a set of two large torn strips of cloth fluttered all the way to the ground, and took cover behind the make-shift wall.
The hexagon flickered again, until the fire suddenly reversed, swirled in a closer, calmer spiral, and seemed to fade? Only after a few seconds, she realized that it was drawn towards something. Tendrils of fire spinning and swirling, slowly being sucked inwards, until they all gathered into a small swirling cloud of brightly glowing... water? Water floating at the tip of Dumbledore's wand, who seemed entirely unharmed, except for a slightly singed beard.
A twist of his wand, and the bubble of water burst, into hundreds of tiny bright blue droplets, which stopped to hover in mid-air, distributed all around the barrier. Dumbledore's wand lit up and a bright white ray of light burst forth, struck one of the floating drops and split in twain, striking yet more drops, splitting again and again, doubling each time, each ray glowing in a slightly different color, until Dumbledore's half of the barrier was encased by the rapidly growing dance of brightly colored rays of light, building and building, and quickly encroaching onto Voldemort from all sides.
The Dark Lord lowered his wand, and instead swirled his dark cloak, the shadows writhing, almost taking physical form as they wrapped around, spiraling and swirling, condensing tighter and tighter, until they came to a stop, and what was left was what looked like an empty void, a spot in midair containing nothing, not even light.
The rays converged, and in a bright flash met all at once as they crashed into the spot of nothingness and simply... disappeared. For a moment, it seemed as if reality blurred, and Iris had the distinct impression that V̶̛̪o̸̰̍l̶͇͂d̶̘̓ȩ̸͋m̵̝͊o̶̱̒ŗ̵̇ţ̶̈́ was trying to move, to move around and behind Dumbledore, faint suggestions of images almost filling her mind, yet as she blinked, none of that came to pass. The light faded, as did the darkness, and both men stood exactly where they had been.
Voldemort snarled, his want pierced up high, touched the top of the barrier, and once more, the light began to split in the same prismatic effect that they had used to talk to all sides of the crowd face to face at the same time. Everything bent around, the area visible behind them seemingly broke and shifted, everything reflected infinitely many times over, more V̸͍͉͕̯̌͊̈́ọ̷̡̅l̷̤͗d̶͍̭̳͍̙͋̈̌̔͝ẹ̴̭̥̰͋̒́̀͠m̵͎̞̱̾ỏ̴̩r̵̮͊t̶̰̙́̿̇̋s, more coffins, nothing made sense anymore except... There was still one, and just one Dumbledore. He stood, unbothered, amid the fractured reality, wearing a frown on his face. A second hand rose, and wrinkled fingers slowly closed in on a single point, and with it, did the entirety of the reflective madness. All the images, all the illusions drawn into a single point within barely a second, and in a flash, all that was left was a small glowing ball of Violet, resting in the palm of the headmaster.
"You cannot win," Dumbledore simply said. "And you cannot leave."
"And you, Dumbledore... made the same crucial mistake you always do..."
Voldemort tilted his head, and smiled, before slowly turning to look towards Sirius, who was still crouching on one knee, clutching the glowing key as if his life depended on it.
"You placed your trust... in someone else."
He turned to face Sirius fully now. "Someone... interesting. Yes... I see strength. I see will. I see courage."
He stepped up to the barrier and ran his fingers along the invisible wall of light as if it were a particularly soft fabric. "But also... resentment, loathing, regret... and doubt."
A small smile broke onto V̶̛̪o̸̰̍l̶͇͂d̶̘̓ȩ̸͋m̵̝͊o̶̱̒ŗ̵̇ţ̶̈́'s lips. "What I see... is weakness."
The key in Sirius' hand seemingly caught fire in a blazing red, and Sirius let out a bloodcurdling scream as if it were burning his hand with the heat of a thousand suns.
The barrier cracked, and split. It snapped down the middle, and instead of one large hexagonal shape, it broke into two triangular ones. Each of them contained one of the men, each unharmed, but firmly split, separate from each other.
Voldemort turned once more, and faced Dumbledore's shocked expression with a gentle smile. "And just when I thought you couldn't sink any lower, Dumbledore..."
He cocked his head to the side, causing Sirius to collapse in a groan, as the barrier shook and shuddered, and with a sudden lurch, the triangular barrier containing Dumbledore began to burrow into the ground. The earth shook, as rocks and dirt were forced above the surface by the unyielding force of magic. The one person who had been able to stand in Voldemort's way, slowly being buried alive, by a trap of his own making.
"Sirius!" Iris called out. "Fight it! You have to stop him!"
Said black haired wizard didn't show any indication of having been able to hear her at all, as he collapsed whimpering to the ground, and finally passed out. Voldemort turned back to face Sirius, and his gaze rested for a moment on the key still clutched loosely in his hand. Should she go and try to get the key? And then do... what? She had no idea how to use it, how to control the castle wards, if that was actually what the thing did.
Everything had happened so fast. Out of the blue, Voldemort had just shown up to speak at Harry's bloody funeral, and everything had gone to shit. She still hadn't even tried to get started on her own contingency plan which... was it too late? Could she still... Iris reached down for her bag, rummaged around, and finally found the piece of paper, which was somehow still in pristine condition. She ducked behind her cover, set it down on a book from her bag, pulled out the quill and inkwell in shaky fingers, took a few breaths to try and calm her hands, then gave that up as a bad job. Instead she focused her vision on the man. Him. Voldemort. Standing right there. If there was any time this would work, it would be now.
Taking a deep breath, she set the quill down and began to write Hog—
And once again the blasted ink just evaporated, and with it, all her plans to somehow put a stop to him.
Up on the stage, Voldemort had given up trying to force his way past the barrier or trying to get an unconscious Sirius to release it, and instead, produced that fire once again. Outside the barrier, people were still panicking, but at least the Aurors seemed to be doing their best to keep everyone away from the chaos. They had rounded them up into several groups with three of them surrounding each group, but they hadn't led them down the path away from the castle towards presumed safety, because... Why? Was there... Oh. Flashes of light, smoke and flames, all the way on the horizon. And coming closer.
Her hands shaking, she tried Dumbledore again. She tried her own name again. And again. And again. And nothing.
"It won't work," came a whispered voice next to her, jolting her out of her rising panic.
"What?" Iris whipped around, and found herself face to face with Daphne Greengrass.
"You're trying to evoke a Geas. And you've centered it on his Name. His magical Name. I don't know much, but what I do know is that things like these only work in balance. Both in terms of sacrifice and meaning."
"Well, yeah! And I did write down his Name. He gave it, so if his Name gives him power over others, it should also give others power over him, right?"
"Nevertheless. You need to meet equal with equal. You're trying to curse him through his Name. So the only way is to bind it to a Name of your own."
Well yeah, that made sense. That had been her thinking from the start, in fact. But there was just a slight issue with that.
"Yeah, except I'm not going to kill someone, kill their fucking soul, just to get a..."
Daphne shook her head again. "You really can be oblivious at times."
The large glowing triangular barrier on the stage was already weakening and fraying at the edges, and sparks of fire started to escape once again. Wherever they landed, a pillar of flames would rise, twisting and turning into a small maelstrom of fire.
Iris' gaze snapped back towards Daphne and glared at her. "Now is really not the time for your games!"
Daphne seemingly tried to convince herself of something, hesitated once again, before finally shaking her head and closing her eyes. Then, she met her with a meaningful look.
"You don't need to earn a Name, Potter. You just need to embrace it."
Embrace it? What, her name? But how would that help, what she needed was like a capital-N Name, like... But Daphne knew that. So what was she—
Was she saying that... But there was no way that... wouldn't she know? Wouldn't there have been...
Her mind suddenly flashed back towards the map. The map that had never lied before, according to Professor Lupin. Except that one time when it had become scrambled. The map that had always shown everyone's first name and last name. Except for house-elves. And except for herself.
Iris Lily Potter.
Her breathing slowed, and her hands became deathly still. Was that what she was saying? But that couldn't be a...
A soul. A soul was required. And a soul was taken, that very night. Was that why she hadn't shown in the mirror? Or was it... because Names are supposed to be... unique?
The house-elves. The house-elves had known. Even Dobby had known. Maybe even the Goblins...
Part of her was still trying to deny it, was still trying to find another explanation, because if this was right... if this was the truth... that would mean that her mum...
"There are fates worse than death, Harry."
Never had she understood that statement better than she had in this very moment.
But no matter what excuses she would come up with, that didn't change a thing about the fact that she simply knew it was true. As soon as the idea had entered her mind, as soon as she had really started to think about it, it didn't let her go. She couldn't let it go. Because it was a truth at the very heart of her being, the very bottom of her soul. She looked up, up into the night sky, and the green moon looked back. And she finally understood.
She was Lily. It was her Name. Perhaps even more so than it was Iris. She was Lily. Not the person, not her mother, but just the Name. It was her Name. And she had no idea what that would mean.
"Please don't make me regret this," Daphne whispered, pulling a small green vial from her robes. The liquid inside shimmered in the bright orange glow of the raging fire. "You'll need this."
Lily glanced at the Aging Potion, and plucked it from the girl's fingers, who nodded and made herself scarce. This last part was up to her. It was a part that only she could do.
With a deep breath, Lily gripped the quill in her hand, gently moved the tip down onto the document into the box labeled plaintiff, and wrote her own Name.
Lily.
A flowery curly script she had never quite been able to manage, but somehow, it just flowed naturally.
And the ink simply stuck, without any hint of ever having done anything else. It was done. The document was complete. Yet with that came another realization. Her task wasn't done yet. Something like this, if it worked just like the real thing, then it would only be valid once it was delivered. Once she handed it over to Voldemort.
And that was exactly what she would do. Lily uncorked the vial, took a swig, and closed her eyes as her body reshaped accordingly. Finally, she worked the charm that Daphne had used before to obscure her face too. There was no need for a recognizable appearance. What was recognizable would be her Name. And once she claimed it for herself, there would be not a shadow of a doubt left. She supposed giving her Name, to him of all people, might not be the best idea. But then again, it was written down on the document, so there wasn't a way around that anyway.
So the best course was to stake her claim from the start, to make her demand into reality, and to...
No.
It would not work.
Only now it made sense. It was a trade among equals. She had thought she had sacrificed by writing his Name, but that had been without the context of her own Name's existence. This shifted the scales. She wanted to bind his Name, using her own. She wanted to restrict his freedom. So in turn, she would have to restrict her own.
The original plan had been to banish him from the castle grounds, in order to both protect her friends, but also create a safe base of operations from which she could plan and conduct whatever else she needed to do for Project Harry. She couldn't have Voldemort just randomly show up again during whatever she'd do when she was actually about to bring Harry back, just like he had done in the middle of fucking time-travel.
But this... this hadn't been part of the plan.
She had things to do. Lily had no idea if the Restricted Section would hold the final truth, the final puzzle piece she would need to bring Harry back, or if she had to go out there once more... then there was whatever the agreement with Daphne Greengrass would entail, which she was increasingly sure would require a trip to Azkaban at some point. She could not afford to confine herself to the walls of this castle. It would grind her plans to a halt.
But still. It was Voldemort. He was right there, she couldn't just... She had to do something!
Also, there was still the main reason why she had wanted to do this in the first place. Without the Geas, nothing would stop him from just randomly showing up like he had in Germany and foil her at the last second again, right? Would the castle wards really stop him if he could not only time travel, but also just show up inside a fucking fourth dimension just to taunt her...
Hang on.
Hang on. He had just said that they hadn't met each other in over a year. Fuck.
So it hadn't been him after all back then. Also, now that she'd met the real thing, yeah. Her memories somehow didn't live up to it. The way he had moved, the way he had talked, and just ignored all sense of physics and causality, yes. But what had been missing back then... was the pure feeling of terror, that vicious malice directed at each and every single guest, and then especially focused on her for that one dreadful moment. If it had actually just been an illusion, or maybe just caused by his Name... That would mean that maybe, she wouldn't even have to bind him after all? Yes, the situation was really messed up, but the people she cared about were already safe within the wards, weren't they?
Except maybe Sirius... He was... no. He was outside the bounds of the castle wards. Although there was still a similar barrier between Voldemort and him, as well as everyone else. But something had happened to him all the same. Then, there was also Dumbledore. If she did nothing... would Voldemort be able to kill Dumbledore for good? Give him enough time to act, she couldn't discount the possibility that he would find a way to... No. Of course he could. If he had enough time without Dumbledore being able to cast back, locked in as he was, a simple Killing Curse would do the job.
Also, just leaving now would of course leave all the other guests to fend for themselves... well, them and the Aurors, she supposed. But at least everyone inside the castle wards would be safe? Except... if he managed to somehow get out of the trap, which was looking increasingly likely at this point, then what would prevent him from doing the same with the castle wards? But they still looked significantly stronger than the triangular barrier in the center of... No. He wouldn't have to. If he could just get to the key. If that was how the thing worked in the first place.
Come on! That was enough of a reason, right? She had to stop being useless and—
A scream jolted her out of her thoughts for a second, as she noticed one of the groups of visitors surrounded by Aurors slowly being enclosed by the fire. The Aurors summoned some sort of large orange shield to hold it off, but unlike Flitwick had at the start, the fire seemed to be too large for them to put it out entirely.
But still, no matter how she looked at it, if she saw this through she'd all but give up on Harry. Damn, damn, damn it all! Why? Why couldn't she just go and do it?
Were her chances to bring Harry back better if she was out and about on her own with Voldemort free to take over the country, or if she was confined to this place for who knew how long, but at least with Dumbledore still able to stand against him? She had to rationalize, there had to be a reason, some logical reason that would allow her to do this. She couldn't just go and bind Voldemort if it meant she'd shatter her own chance of bringing Harry back in the process.
Even if it would maybe save all these people?
Even if it could maybe save Sirius?
A crack fractured the tension, then another, followed by a shattering sound that made it obvious she was out of time. The fire exploded outwards from the shattered barrier, spread, then billowed up into a circular wall surrounding Voldemort, engulfing the entire podium. He slowly craned his neck, took in his surroundings, then smiled as he spotted the triangular hole in the ground. And instantly, he picked the one option she had dreaded the most. The shadows started to grow. Longer, taller, darker, every second getting closer to Dumbledore's inevitable—
A sudden screech pierced the area, and a silvery translucent phoenix rose from the depths of the abyss, filling her with a fleeting spark of hope. It began to sing a song, a sweet melodic trill, as it glowed and pulsed in a bright white light, rapidly banishing the shadows whence they came.
Voldemort snarled, but did not seem discouraged. He slowly approached the gap, withdrew his wand again, and swirled it in a circle. Slowly, a brightly glowing bubble of green... liquid? Something was gathering, floating in front of the tip of the pale wand.
Just what the hell should she do?
There was no right choice here. No correct choice. No path forward.
No path except... Sirius! He had said... he had... he could... if she could truly bring him in... if he would agree with the plan... yes. It could be worth it in the end.
Finally. Her path was set; her purpose clear.
She had her reason.
And she hated herself for it.
"The great Albus Dumbledore... caught between a rock and a hard place..." he purred, then brought a hand up to his ear, and leaned over the abyss. "No condescending words of wisdom this time? What a shame."
And with a shrug, he held the wand, and with it the floating ball of greenish glowing liquid right above the dark shaft.
"Stop right there."
The words rang out, cutting through the chaos like a blade, as reality came to a screeching halt. Voldemort froze, his red eyes narrowing as he turned toward the voice, and the entire remaining onlookers turned with him.
Lily stepped forward, the flames parting before her as if recognizing her claim to the moment. She had no idea what she was doing, or how she was doing this. But with this new knowledge, her current awareness, had come a strange sense of... certainty.
Whatever the outcome, first, Lily would speak to Voldemort. And the words said would set the tone for what followed after. Voldemort turned, hands raised, met her eyes, and frowned. Lily approached him with certain, self assured strides, almost gliding across the podium.
"And who," Voldemort spoke, "might you be?"
Lily almost felt giddy as the whole moment seemed to hinge upon her every word, follow her every motion. It was a feeling of total control, of power in its most ancient sense. Magnificent. Intoxicating.
She came to a stop in front of him, almost right in his face, and rested a hand on her hip, merely returning a cheeky grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
It was curious that he didn't recognize her. Right now, she was Lily. Nothing more, nothing less. Especially to anyone who spoke the language of Magic. To creatures of Magic, she had always been Lily. But apparently, Voldemort was still human enough that to him, there had been a difference.
"Not particularly," he shrugged, and began to turn away from her, moving the floating green orb towards the abyss once more, and the gazes turning with him.
Damn. This was harder than it had looked. She had to keep the conversation going to actually force him to listen. She had to get it together and get to the point, without any of her usual cheek, no matter how much she itched to enjoy every second of this moment to the fullest. Lily turned to the side with a disinterested expression as if she were humoring him, and raised her hand to inspect her nails. She took another slow breath, her voice dropping to a dangerous murmur.
"My Name," she said, savoring the power in the words, "is Lily."
The air seemed to shudder. Magic, ancient and unyielding, swirled around her, weaving her declaration into the fabric of reality. Merlin, it felt strangely good to say that. Lily couldn't quite put it into words. No matter how odd and wrong it had sounded in her memories, right now, in this very moment, it just felt... right. Her Name. It was her Name. And hers alone.
Except it used to be her mum's. And with how she was looking like right now, could people draw the parallel?
"Lily Blackwood," she added her full alias for the benefit of everyone else, although Voldemort was obviously only interested in the important part. She gently lowered her hand and turned to face him fully, and gave him a soft smile. "And I have come to deliver a message."
What they were, what they could do, what logic dictated, none of that was quite as important right now. Facts didn't quite matter as much as what they said, and even more so how they said it. And her chances would be a whole lot better if he were someone she didn't have to fear.
"And tell me... why would I be interested in anything you have to say?" he asked in a mockingly curious voice. "I have other things... much more important things... that I could be doing..."
The longer he kept speaking, the more she felt like she was losing control of the conversation. Attention faded, her grasp over the moment waning, time, reason and reality rattling the door. She would only get this one shot.
Lily reached for her bag and withdrew the completed document for all to see. "Oh, I believe you will find this pertinent."
His eyes narrowed as he glimpsed the piece of Muggle paper, a hint of confusion entering his face. Good. "What is this?" came a hiss.
"This," she flourished the document, holding it out towards him between two outstretched fingers, "is an Injunction."
Because that was what it was. A bog-standard Muggle Injunction court document of a very specific kind. Basically, what the American TV-Shows called a Restraining Order. And yes, she had only just now realized how that could be interpreted out of context.
He snatched the piece of paper from her fingers with a snarl, but he froze as his eyes met the Name, or rather the Names written on the document. All the amusement vanished from his face and his expression turned furious. "You could never hope to—"
"This castle isn't big enough for the two of us," she cut him off with a grin, before turning serious, and speaking the final words of her binding vow.
"And for as long as I do not leave these grounds, neither shall you be able to enter them. This is my Geas unto you."
The roiling circle of fire around them seemed to come to a crawl, almost freezing in mid-air. His face twisted into a furious grimace, and his wand began to move, slowly, over towards the edge—
"Bé̸̈́gò̸͔ne n̷̙͗ow̵!̴̤͎̑̃"
And like that, he was gone. Vanished without a trace, and all the fire with him, leaving behind nothing but a pair of purple eyes glowing in the distance. The bubble of green liquid wobbled for barely a fraction of a second, before plummeting down into the depths of the abyss.