Harry Potter and The Beauty of Magic Chapter 1 (A Life to Live) (Patreon)

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year

They were soldiers.  Above all, they were soldiers. It didn't matter that they were only  eighteen, barely out of school. It didn't matter that they were  children—babies really, look how young they were. They had their whole  lives ahead of them. Years of first jobs, of screw-ups, and resolutions.  Years of finding themselves. But they didn't feel like children. No,  they haven't felt like that for years, not since that first bullet  seared through the sky and swiftly kissed James' widowed mother as she  rested in her small house on Godric's Hollow on that serene Sunday  morning.

James had lost it then.  He'd spent the days after the murder locked in his flat, lights off,  curtains shut. He ignored it when Peter owled him, asking if everything  was alright, and was there anything he could do to help? He ignored it  when Remus sent Patronus after Patronus, the last of which heaved a  great sigh and gave an assurance that James was going to make it through  because Remus knew him and he was tough.

James had even ignored  it when Sirius pounded against his door, demanding entry. He knew Sirius  wouldn't push him, that he'd leave him alone after the initial attempt.  After all, Sirius, too, had lost family in the war. He knew what kind  of shit that was.

It was only when Lily  arrived when she quietly slipped into his previously locked room—James  had forgotten how talented she was at Charms—that progress in any form  was made.

She found him on the  floor, leaning against his one-seat sofa with empty glass bottles of  Firewhiskey around him as he listened to the static on Sirius' old  broken radio. He didn't protest when she sat on the floor next to him  and clicked the TV off wordlessly. He didn't protest when she gently  pried his fingers from the remote control he'd been gripping, nor when  she took his hand in hers, slowly massaging until the blood rushed back  into his pale, white knuckles.

Lily wanted to talk. She  said it was unhealthy, keeping these things locked up, that it would  only hurt all the more when he finally opened up and accepted the  tragedy. James closed his eyes, too tired to argue but resisting the  validity of her words all the same. After all, it was going to hurt.

Whether or not he  spilled his sentiments to her at that moment, some bastard will still  have shot his mother during the two months he was away. James will still  have lost the only family he had left. So he discarded the content and  listened instead to the hum of Lily's words; the low, gentle whispers of  support, the melodically mournful tone of her voice; and slowly, she  caressed him back to the world of the fully functional.

James decided to join  the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius had been suggesting it for months, and  even Remus had gradually come to accept the prospect. James had always  been reluctant. He still remembered great uncle Theodore's funeral and  the associated sense of overwhelming loss.

He stood surrounded by  strangers, all who this fallen hero of the Order connected. Back then,  he was among those who hoped for the same better tomorrow but who were  scared to take that first step. James's doubt slipped away with his  mother's death.

Along with the loss of  his only remaining family member was the loss of his childhood, his  adolescence, his young adulthood, and he was left with a sense of  hardened maturity, one that spoke to him in its tired voice: "It's  time..."

Mad-Eye-Moody was a  fifty-something-year-old man with thick hair, a battalion of scars on  his face, and a magical eye that whizzed and whirred within its socket.  He was a straightforward man; the hardships of battle seemed to have  struck an air of frankness about him, and so he took great care in  informing them about the reality of life in the Order.

"First thing's first,"  he said, his voice deep and raspy. "This is no school club. Have you got  that? You're not gaining experience or whatever the hell you think this  is. It's not happening, muskets. The pay here is rotten—actually, there  is no pay. We don't get the money. And there can't be gloating either,  you hear? So don't even think about talking about your Order friends at  grandma's next potluck dinner. 'Cause, guess what happened to the last  idiot who did that? He got killed in his bed.

"But see, the Order  symbolises something much more than money or glory. I'm sure you know  that, or else you wouldn't be here. This is a group of people standing  up for what they believe in, moulding themselves into something greater  than they are, to protect their families and friends.

We've got husbands in  here, avenging their dead wives. Wives are avenging their husbands.  Brothers are defending brothers; sisters are defending sisters. Parents  defending kids. And I guess we'd probably have kids protecting parents,  except we don't take kiddies; they're too young. This group is more  significant than you and me, and I know we can make a difference here.  But that's only if you're all willing to try."

The meeting ended with Moody warning them all to keep their mouths shut and a reminder that training was to begin on Monday.

At times, James wondered  whether it was worth it, especially when they discovered the remains of  yet another comrade. It was Peter who introduced these doubts, Peter  who still had two parents, both of whom wanted nothing to do with the  Order.

They were nearing  retirement and only desired a few years of quiet happiness. Peter often  asked James whether they should simply go along with the masses. It was  an easier path, pretending to believe in something you didn't, and  besides, it spared the spilling of blood.

But then James would  think about the disgrace in that, in relinquishing what they believed  in, what they valued. And the only thought that would drive him was that  he wouldn't want his own kid to live a life as fucked up as his own. So  he kept fighting.

James's platoon became  veterans, "old hands", according to Moody; they were ready for combat,  ready to secure an area on their own. James learned to use  Transfiguration to kill. He made his first kill at twilight when a  sour-faced Death Eater stunned Peter and adjusted his aim for more  permanent damage.

The night following this  first battle, the battle that started off as a peaceful protest, was  bitterly quiet. It was something James couldn't erase from his memory:  the expression on the man's face when the jet of green light made  contact just above his abdomen. James remembered every emotion—the  shock, the confusion, the realisation of his own mortality. He had  nightmares for weeks.

Sirius was James's  partner, and every now and then, at the end of a battle, the two of them  would stumble back to headquarters hoisting each other up, only to be  rushed to St. Mungo's by Madeline. She was the only Healer on their  squad.

Lily was the best at  Charms. No one else could compare, and whenever she was deployed for a  battle, James would curse her talent. He'd wish she hadn't had it, wish  that it'd been passed to someone else instead. He was  terrified—absolutely terrified—that her accuracy was going to get her  killed, as it put her in the heart of the battle. Often, before she  left, James would think it was the last time he'd ever see her, the last  time he'd ever kiss her, the last time he'd ever...

And then he'd give his  head a short shake, blink hard and pick up a bottle of Firewhiskey. And  he'd drink himself sick until she returned.

Remus was unrivalled in  all things strategy. He knew all the ins and outs of politics, could  pinpoint a flaw in any plan. He knew the ethics of battle like he did  his own mother. So it was with him that James spoke whenever he doubted,  whenever he wondered whether what they were doing was right.

"This is blood on our hands, Moony."

"Sometimes, James,"  Remus would reply, looking up from his book, or his papers, or whatever  other intellectual tasks that held his attention at the moment, "you've  got to stand up for what you believe in even if it means facing death.  We're not in the wrong here."

And he would say some other abstract fatuity that James knew was complete crap, but it still wouldn't fail to reassure.

A few months later,  Moody deployed them to the edge of London. That first night at camp,  meeting all the squad members lacked the awkwardness that new meetings  usually held. It was as though every stranger was in tune with the rest,  everyone's thoughts riding along the same line. Everyone had signed on  for the long run, all nineteen of them, and it was implicitly  acknowledged that for the next few whenever they'd have nothing but the  other members of their platoon. So with nothing else, they all did the  one thing they knew to do. They fought.

Benjy Fenwick was found  dead in the woods one night. His partner for that mission, Sirius, had  stumbled by the campfire at three in the morning the night before, a  full fourteen hours before he was to return.

"They were expecting  us," he choked, clutching his side and collapsing in the medical tent.  "They set up an ambush. Shit, James, I lost Benjy. I barely got away—".

It was the first time  James deployed the entire platoon in one go. Even the medics were  deployed, except for Madeline, who was to tend to Sirius's wounds. It  seemed futile, however, sending the team to search for a captured rebel.  The enemy campsite was barren by the time they reached it with the  directions they'd received from Sirius. No enemy, no hooded Death  Eaters. No Benjy. James decided it was prudent to send back a few  soldiers to guard their own camp. By then, Peter had found Benjy in the  forest. Or at least the bits and pieces of him that were left.

Sirius fell apart that  night. James could tell by how he stared at the fire; his gaze was fixed  and unwavering, cautious and aware... almost animalistic. When this  became a bit unnerving, James told him not to worry, that everything was  going to be all right. Empty words, he knew, but he had nothing more to  offer. Sirius saw right through that—he told him to fuck off and leave  him alone. James did.

When he woke up later  that night, Sirius was still by the fire. He was no longer gazing at the  flames with that crazed expression. Instead, he was violently smashing  bottle after bottle of Firewhiskey into the fire, relishing the  shattering crash of glass against kindling, the momentary rage of fire  as the flames reached up to consume the alcohol and then retreated, only  to repeat the cycle seconds later. James never did learn what Sirius  had witnessed that day. They never spoke of the ambush again.

At 5:16 one morning,  James and Sirius limped into camp. They were soaked in blood, hoisting  between them Sirius's younger brother Regulus, who they'd succeeded in  freeing from enemy capture. The entire camp was roused at their arrival,  and the sun slowly inched its way up the horizon. James delivered  Sirius and his brother to Madeline and found Lily moments later. She had  dark rings around her eyes and appeared as though she had not slept all  night. James reached for her hand immediately.

"James? Oh, my God..."  Lily silently took inventory of his wounds. Her eyes scanned over the  slash under his eye, the bruise running down his neck, the bruise  running down his neck, the blood dripping from his ear. "Okay... let's  find Madeline, alright? We'll get you fixed up. You're going to be  fine." She tugged against him gently, and James yielded for a moment  before jerking to a stop.

"Wait—I have something to say."

"What? James, it can wait, look at you, you're a mess—"

"No, it can't wait." He took both Lily's hands in his own and bore his eyes into hers. "Look—this is dangerous."

Lily blinked back tears. "Merlin—you don't think I know that? That's why I'm telling you to go to Madeline!"

"No—Lily, listen.  Just—shut up for a minute, okay? This is dangerous. You, me, the  guys—we're in a war. We're all in war. And look at us—I'm not sure—I  don't even know how long we're going to—to be alive—"

"Hey—" Lily's voice came  out sharply. She took his face in her hand, shook her own fiercely.  "Stop that, James, just stop." James wasn't blinking. His expression was  still alert, cautious, aware. "We're fine. Alright? This'll all be over  soon, I'm sure of it. We're going to be—"

"Yeah, I know. But  listen." He paused then, and for a fearful moment, Lily thought he was  going to pass out. But he continued speaking, slowly at first, as though  still formulating his thoughts, but then more forcefully, with more  conviction, as though the urgency of the war had seeped into every other  aspect of their lives. "I want you to... I love you; you know that—"

"—James, you're scaring me—"

"I love you, Lily, I do—"

Lily sobbed. "God, James—"

"—and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't care how short it is—"

Lily swiped furiously at her eyes and gave a jerky nod of agreement.

"—We both agreed to  fight, and we're both too stubborn to do otherwise. But no goddamn war's  going to stop me from doing this—alright? No, listen—marry me. Marry  me, Lily."

"James—you're not seri—"

"—Yeah, I am. Marry me. Will you?"

Lily gave another sob as she wiped at her eyes and nodded wordlessly.

James blinked. "Really?"

Lily gave a short laugh.  "Yes, you prat, I'll marry you." And then she was sobbing and laughing,  her tears and his blood mingling as they came together. Tears were shed  for the state of warfare they faced, yet laughter rang for the familiar  happiness they thought they'd never experience again.

When James smiled then,  it was almost as though he were in perfect health. As though the blood  dripping down his face, across his arms, his torso, had all been wiped  away. As though the scrapes and scars, and the bruises and burns of the  war they did and did not support, had lost their own war against a  greater state of health. It was almost, almost as though everything was okay again.

One Year Later

"I'm here!" Sirius called out, coming into the house through the kitchen entrance.

"We're in the living room," James hollered back.

Sirius found his friend  running around frantically, looking through bookshelves, under  furniture, and behind curtains for something. "What are you looking for,  Prongs?" he asked curiously.

"Just some papers," James grunted, not even stopping to acknowledge his friend's presence.

Harry, on the other  hand, was delighted to see his father's best friend. He gleefully yelled  his version of Sirius' name, "Paaf!" and held his hands up in the air,  demanding to be lifted out of his playpen. Sirius was only too happy to  oblige.

"How's my favourite godson today?" he asked, tickling Harry. Not even one-year-old baby bubbled with laughter.

"Aha!" James exclaimed,  holding up a sheaf of paper and brandishing it triumphantly. The papers  had been stuffed inside a fishbowl that was under a table, and Sirius  decided it was better for his sanity not to ask why they were there in  the first place.

James got up off his  knees and brushed off his robes. "Thanks for coming on such short  notice, Padfoot," he said. "There's an emergency at work, and Lily's  going to be gone until late tonight. I should be back in a couple of  hours."

"Think nothing of it, Prongs. I love spending time with Harry," Sirius said.

"What took you so long to get here, anyway? How far away did you Apparate to?"

"Oh, I didn't Apparate," Sirius told him.

James looked at him  thoughtfully, puzzled. "You didn't use Floo powder, either, because you  would have come in through the fireplace, not the kitchen."

"I rode here," Sirius informed him.

"Sirius! You're not taking Harry up on your motorbike again!" James ordered.

"But he loves it," Sirius whined.

"You know very well Lily will kill both of us if she learns you took Harry for a ride again. Remember what happened last time?"

Sirius winced at the  memory. James' wife had been furious, and the redhead had a horrible  temper. "Yeah," he admitted, "but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.  You said she's not going to be back until later. She'll never find out."

James disagreed. "She'll find out. She always finds out. Promise me you won't take Harry up on your motorbike."

"I promise," Sirius said  reluctantly. That didn't seem to be enough for James, so he rolled his  eyes and added, "Cross my heart. May I tickle a sleeping dragon if I  lie."

James was satisfied.  "Okay," he said. "You know where everything is. I should be back in a  couple of hours. I'll give you a call if I'm not. Bye, Harry," he said  to his son, kissing the baby on his cheek.

"Bye Daddy," Sirius said for Harry, trying unsuccessfully to imitate a squeaky child's voice as he waved the boy's hand for him.

Harry, however, was  perfectly capable of waving good-bye to his father. Wrenching his hand  away from Sirius, he flapped it open and shut a few times, saying,  "Bu-bye!"

James waved at Harry and  Sirius, then rushed out the door to get away from the Anti-Apparating  fields that surrounded the Potters' house.

"So, Harry," Sirius said  when James was gone. "What do you want to do?" He paused, pretending to  wait for an answer. "Fly? That's a good idea. Unfortunately, your  father made me promise not to take you up on my motorbike. Yeah, I know,  he's a big meanie, but don't worry, your godfather has a back-up plan.  Now, where does Prongs keep his broom?"

Baby Harry found Sirius'  monologue to be delightful. He clapped his hands in glee, which Sirius  took to be an affirmative to his plan. Carrying Harry in one arm, he  went around the house, looking through all the closets to search for  James' broomstick.

"There we go," he said,  pulling the Nimbus 1700 out of the hallway closet with his free hand.  "Now, Harry, are you ready for your first flying lesson from your  godfather?"

They went out to the  backyard. It was a gorgeous August afternoon, warm and sunny with only a  few fluffy clouds in the sky. Sirius carefully laid the broom on the  ground.

"Now, Harry, the first  thing you do is hold out your hand and tell the broom to come up. Can  you do that?" Harry had his fist in his mouth and was happily trying to  munch on it. "Okay, you can't be eating your hand when you do this,"  Sirius told him, trying to disentangle Harry's fist from his mouth.  "Now, can you say up? Say up!"

"Up!" Harry said  forcefully. It was one of the first words he had learned, though he  rarely said it when he was already being carried by someone.

There wasn't enough  magic behind the baby's word, but that didn't deter Sirius. In fact, he  was very pleased with his godson. "That's it," he said with a wide  smile. "Up!" The broom leapt up into his hand.

Very carefully, Sirius  mounted the broom, seating Harry in front of him. "Now listen closely,  Harry," he said. "You have to hold onto the broom very tightly with both  hands. No-hands flying will have to wait until you're five, at the very  least." He wrapped Harry's hands around the handle of the broom,  placing his own hands over Harry's. He leaned forward slightly and then,  very slowly, the broom rose from the ground.

Contrary to popular  belief, Sirius Black wasn't always reckless. In fact, he rarely took  chances with his godson - at least not risky chances. He made sure Harry  was perfectly balanced on the broom and had his arms around the baby to  make absolutely sure there was no way the little boy could fall off.

"You're a natural,"  Sirius marvelled. "Just wait till you get to Hogwarts. You'll be the  Quidditch captain by your third year." It wasn't just proud godfather  boastfulness, either. Harry didn't need Sirius to keep him upright,  though the adult wouldn't dream of taking his arms from around him.

He started to speed up  and then became more daring. He dashed over rooftops, ducked beneath  branches and circled around trees. Harry was laughing all the way.  Normally Sirius would have done a couple of loop-de-loops as well, but  decided against it. It was only Harry's first time on a broom, after  all. That could wait for their second lesson.

After half an hour, he  made his way back to the Potter house and brought the broom back done to  the ground. He lifted Harry up high into the air, saying, "That was  great, Harry! You're going to be the best flier around!"

Harry smiled, allowing Sirius to see the few teeth that had grown in. "Mama," he said.

Growing very pale,  Sirius stopped breathing. Slowly, very slowly, he turned around. It was  what he feared; Lily was standing by the door and she looked ready to  skin him alive.

Clutching Harry closer,  since he knew Lily wouldn't attack him if there was a chance her son  would get hurt, he stammered, "Lily. You aren't supposed to be back  yet."

Unfortunately, Harry did  not seem to understand the peril his godfather was in. He squirmed,  trying to get out of Sirius' arms and into his mother's. Lily walked up  to them and Sirius very reluctantly gave her Harry.

She swept him into her  arms and immediately examined the baby, making sure there was not so  much as a mark on him that wasn't there before. Sirius started to back  up, trying to slip away without Lily noticing.

"Stop right there," she said. "You're not going anywhere."

Sirius wisely stayed put.

"Sirius Black." She started out very low, too low. "What do you think you were doing?"

"I was just trying to  teach Harry to fly," he said. He flashed her a charming smile, hoping it  would soften her anger. "James said you didn't want me taking him up on  my motorbike again, so I took him for flying on James' broom. He really  liked it."

"You knew I didn't want  Harry to go flying on your bike so you took him on a broom," Lily  repeated. "Are you insane or just stupid? Harry is only ten months. He  is way too young to be flying, on a bike or a broom. How  irresponsible can you be?" She had started out deceptively calm, but  quickly crescendoed until she was screeching. Sirius was amazed how  closely she could imitate a Howler - at least he was when he wasn't  wincing and wishing he were anywhere but there.

Lily carried on in that  way for a couple more minutes until she realized all the yelling was  upsetting Harry. She collected herself and went inside the house. At  first, Sirius thought that meant he could leave and started for his  motorbike, but Lily turned around and told him in no uncertain terms,  "I'm not finished with you."

Meekly, he followed her  in. She went up the stairs and placed Harry in his crib for a nap. She  closed the door quietly and went back downstairs into the kitchen before  saying another word, Sirius following her the entire way.

"If you ever do  something that stupid and dangerous with Harry again, I swear, I will  kill you," Lily said. It didn't seem to be an idle threat, and Sirius  was not in a rush to test how sincere she was.

"I'm sorry, Lil," Sirius said. "I guess I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't." At  least she wasn't yelling at him anymore. "But if you try a stunt like  that again, I will do worse than kill you. I will make sure you do not  spend any time with Harry again. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sirius said  quickly. She knew him too well - that was the one threat that really  worried him. "I promise I won't do anything like that again."

"And that means anything like that. I don't want to come home tomorrow and find you've taken Harry up on your broom and tried to weasel your way out of it on a technicality."

"I won't," Sirius promised. "I won't do anything anyone consider dangerous with Harry unless I have yours or James' permission."

"Good."

They were both silent  for a few minutes, then Sirius, judging that Lily had calmed down  enough, looked at her with puppy dog eyes and asked, "Am I forgiven  now?"

Lily had to laugh. She rolled her eyes. "You're forgiven," she sighed.

Sirius grinned cockily at her. "You just can't resist me," he teased.

"You're right," Lily deadpanned. "I'm wild with passion for you. Take me, take me now."

Sirius stuck his tongue out at her. Lily swatted him. "Get out of here, you idiot," she said good-naturedly.

"Say hi to Prongs for me," Sirius said.

"I will. Bye Sirius."

"See you, Lily."

She went to the door and waved goodbye as he flew away on his motorbike.

Two Weeks Later

James Potter was having a  very good dream when he was startled awake by a loud tap on the window.  Shaking his head to get himself to wake up faster, James got up from  his uncomfortable position on the couch and walked over to the source of  the noise that had so rudely woken him up.

His best friend, Sirius  Black, was standing outside the window, a grin on his face as he waved  his hand at James. James sighed as he unlatched the window and started  to open it up.

"Sirius, what are you-"  James froze, now noticing the person standing beside of Sirius. Harry,  little Harry who would be turning a year old in just a few weeks, was  standing up all by himself without any help from Sirius.

Noticing his father,  Harry walked over toward the half-open window, a wide, nearly toothless,  grin on his face. Inching his hand down next to his leg, James gave  himself a very hard pinch. To his disappointment, James wasn't still  sleeping as he had hoped himself to be.

"Sirius," James started to say slowly, "What is Harry doing?"

Sirius gestured toward his godson. "He's walking!" He said as if that were the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"I can see that. I just wanted to know how." James said, still staring at his son in amazement as he opened the window up fully.

Sirius gave a small chuckle as he said, "Well, you see Prongs, when children are old enough-"

"I know how he got to  walk, I just mean that I have been waiting for months to see him walk  for the very first time, and I leave him with you for the day, and when  you come back he's walking as if it's the most natural thing in the  whole world for him to do!"

"Oh, relax, James.  Harry's got many more firsts that you can look forward too. Like, for  instance, his first time riding a broom, his first birthday. See?  There's many more firsts that you can look forward too. I just happened  to get this one." Sirius said, a look of absolute pride on his face.

"But still Sirius," James said trailing off at the end as he gave a long sigh.

"I know, I know, James.  He's your son, you want to be there for everything that he does." Sirius  told James as he picked up Harry, who had been starting to totter back  and forth on his feet, threatening to fall over. "But you have to admit-  there was bound to be something that he did that you missed. It just  happened to be this one.

James nodded his head,  seeing the logistics of what Sirius had just told him. "True . . . but  I'm never going to let him out of my sight again, in case he does  something else that I want to see."

Sirius laughed, moving Harry from one arm to the other. "Come on, James, you can't watch Harry every second of his life!"

"I can try." James said, defiantly. "And fail miserably." He added as an afterthought.

"Don't worry James."  Sirius said, reaching through the open window to pat James on the  shoulder." You can watch Harry do amazing things for years to come."

"You think so?" James asked hopefully.

"I know so, Prongs."  Sirius said, looking down at his godson, who was now fast asleep,  oblivious to the fact that he was now being stared at with looks of  absolute adoration from both his father and godfather.

Snape

Severus stumbled out of  the Death Eater meeting, his mind was spinning. His simple intelligence  gathering mission had turned into a complete mess. He had thought that  he was simply passing on the information so that the Dark Lord would  know what Dumbledore was going to try and pull on him, but no, the Dark  Lord actually believed the prophecy and believed it was about Lily's  son.

Severus started pacing  the corridor. He had to stay because the Dark Lord had wanted to speak  with him, but only after he had spoken to several others first. In fact,  he made it clear that Severus would be the last person he would meet  with tonight.

How could this be? He  had done so many things to keep Lily safe. He had gotten the Dark Lord  to offer her a position as a Death Eater, which she turned down for all  the brain washing that occurred in the Gryffindor house. He defended her  in battles as discreetly as he could, but now she was a target. There  was no way that the Dark Lord was not going to kill every single person  in that family. It was how he worked.

Maybe there was a way he  could steal the baby and deliver him to the Dark Lord himself? The  thought of kidnapping a child and bringing it to its death made  Severus's insides crawl. It would be for the greater good, he tried to  convince himself. One life in exchange for two. Severus sighed. There  was no way he could live with that.

Maybe he should go  rogue, go to Dumbledore and tell him that the Dark Lord means to target  the Potters. Fear crept through his body as he remembered their  encounter right after Severus had overheard the prophecy. It would be  worth it if it saved Lily. He could give Dumbledore all the information  he needed to protect Lily and her family. Now what would he tell the  Dark Lord...

It was simple. He needed  to try and see if he would spare Lily. Beg, offer to go on an intense  mission, something. The Dark Lord was clearly the one winning as of now,  no one could deny the momentum they finally built and had going. He  would work both channels to save Lily.

What would he tell him? What would be believable?

I want to you to spare the life of my childhood best friend, Severus imagined telling the Dark Lord.

Why? His icy voice scratched inside his head. You haven't spoken in years.

I promised her I would save her when we were younger, no matter what.

A memory of the Dark Lord's laughter filled his mind.

Severus cringed. That wouldn't work. What would be believable?

Severus remembered from a  few weeks ago when Mulciber had spoken up about wanting to join a raid  in the neighborhood where the McDonalds lived. He told the Dark Lord  that he had been desiring Mary since he laid eyes on her. The Dark Lord  had smiled and then granted the request. That was it! He could pretend  to want Lily and needed Potter and her son out of the picture. He would  believe that.

"Snape," Karkaroff's annoying voice pulled Severus from his mind. "The Dark Lord wishes to meet with you now."

Severus tried to think  lurid thoughts about Lily and desiring her. He had never delved into  things of that nature. It wasn't working. This plan was going to fail.

Severus took a quiet  deep breath. It was not the time to let his emotions get the best of  him. He needed dirty thoughts in order to save Lily. Then he remembered  Potter gazing off in class fifth year and he took a stab at using  legilimency and caught Potter imagining Lily undressing in front of him.  That's it, he needed to remember all of those inappropriate thoughts he  hexed Potter for.

He moved methodically  through his memories and started extracting Potter out of them. It had  been himself that had been thinking those thoughts, not Potter. This  would be stuff the Dark Lord could not disbelieve.

Karkaroff indicated for  Severus to enter the throne room first. Once they both were in, he  closed the door and knelt before the Dark Lord.

"My Lord, here is Snape," Karkaroff said before standing up and getting out of the way.

Severus took his turn at  the feet of the Dark Lord and mumbled the appropriate greeting, "My  Lord, what is it you desire from me?"

"Snape," the Dark Lord  said with a smile as Severus looked up at him. "I have a mission for  you, but I can tell there is something on your mind. Care to tell me  what it is?"

Severus had the haunting  suspicion that the Dark Lord had expected him to come and ask him about  Lily, but he needed to ask anyway.

"Lily Evans, my lord." Severus replied.

"Who is that?" The Dark Lord asked sarcastically. "I don't recall talking about anyone of that name."

Severus let out a sigh, he knew what the Dark Lord wanted him to say.

"Lily Potter, my lord,"  Severus shivered as he spoke her new last name. It had been the most  malicious act Potter ever could have done, marrying Lily. He would have  preferred her to marry the werewolf over Potter.

"Ah yes, I seem to  remember you getting along with her well during your early years at  Hogwarts. What is it about her that is currently on your mind?"

"How I greatly desire  that she is spared while you seek to kill the rest of her family,"  Severus knew it was the time to play the lurid thoughts as he looked  into the Dark Lord's eyes.

The Dark Lord smirked in approval. "You desire her?"

"Greatly, my lord," Severus replied, looking down and keeping down his guilt at the inappropriate thoughts.

"Well, I might be able  to promise her safety if you manage to fulfill this mission." Severus  looked up at the Dark Lord in anticipation of the difficult task he  would require for sparing Lily. "In fact, it might even help you in this  mission. Could you think of what that would be?"

Severus stared into his  eyes. He had no idea what the Dark Lord would be requesting of him that  his wanting Lily would be of use. He gently eased into the Dark Lord's  mind, hoping to gain credit by finding what he was supposed to respond  without being detected. All he saw was the image of the three Potters  dead.

Severus stored that  thought away and quickly searched through past interactions in hopes of  piecing together what the Dark Lord wanted from him. He had taught him  to duel, even had him come and watch his duels with Dumbledore. He had  worked on developing Severus's occlumency skills...

"I think you found the  mission," the Dark Lord said with a smile as Severus stood up in shock.  "You know the old man's weakness. You know how your bullies twisted  their words to seem remorseful to get out of severe punishment. Now it  is time for you to get your revenge. Ask him to spare Mrs. Potter as you  asked me and spill him a tale of remorse. I guarantee that he will lap  it up. You will be my spy at Hogwarts and you will take down Dumbledore  when it is time."

"Yes, my lord," Severus  responded, for there was no other acceptable response. He knelt back  down before the Dark Lord, reigning in his fear. "I will go and seek an  audience with him right away."

Severus rose to leave,  keeping his eyes averted from the Dark Lord. He wasn't sure he could  keep the flood of emotions at bay any longer.

"Hold on," the Dark Lord hissed. "Look me in the eye."

Severus knew the Dark  Lord wanted to make sure he would do everything he asked. Severus turned  and looked at the Dark Lord, willing his mind to go blank. It didn't.  The Dark Lord pulled up the disgust at the death of the Potters, the  wishing that the Dark Lord hadn't acted on the prophecy, the lack of  desire of giving up the son to spare the life of the parents.

"Figures," the Dark Lord  huffed. "Know that you will die if you fail this time around and there  will be nothing stopping me from making each of the Potters die a slow  and painful death and tell them it was at your request."

Severus bowed, "Yes, my lord."

He left. The Dark Lord  must be very angry to threaten slow and painful deaths on the Potters.  He preferred to kill entire families with the killing curse. It was  quick and clean. To threaten that he would go out of the way to cause  them pain himself, instead of sticking torture happy Death Eaters on  someone, meant that he was thoroughly irked.

The meant Severus was not likely to make it a month.

As soon as Severus made  it back to his empty home on Spinner's End, he penned a letter to  Dumbledore. He made it sound urgent and set up a meeting twenty four  hours from now. He needed time to sort through everything that was going  to happen.

Severus sat in his room  after his quick trip to the nearest wizarding post office to post the  letter to Dumbledore. He sat in his bed leaned up against the wall,  tracing his lips with his finger. He needed to figure everything out.

How to save Lily? It was  clear that the Dark Lord had every intention on killing her unless  Severus somehow managed to perform in a manner that exceeded  expectations. His expectations were already too high to begin with, so  clearly relying on him would be of no use.

Severus needed to get  Dumbledore to protect them. He could move them to a different country  and put all that information under a fidelius charm. If the Potter boy  was really the one who would defeat the Dark Lord, then he could live  far away until he came of age and would come back to fight. He needed to  rely on Dumbledore because the Potters are of use to him. He would be  incentivized to save them...as long as he didn't decide that losing them  was a way to save the kid.

Being a spy for the Dark  Lord, was that something he was going to work for? It was likely that  the Dark Lord would have him followed. If Severus were him and doubting  the loyalty of a servant, that's what he would do. It was most likely  why Karkaroff had been present at the meeting.

Right now, everyone  viewed him as a coward. He should play on that perspective and pretend  to be too cowardly to bring up spying on the Dark Lord for Dumbledore or  switching sides. That way he could prevent the Dark Lord from getting  another tunnel of information, hopefully keeping the Potters safe for  longer.

What would be the  consequence of failing to become the Hogwarts spy? The Dark Lord was  more likely to take his threat of a slow and painful death out on  Severus and not the Potters. He wouldn't hurt the chances of success in  order to punish a Death Eater. Severus would die.

As he lay down to sleep,  he felt peaceful about that option. His life had lost its purpose since  Hogwarts. Without school to succeed in and having a choice in his life  and career, his main purpose had been to save Lily. Now that she was a  target, he would much rather die before finding that he had failed once  again in life.

As he slipped into a  fretful night of sleep, nightmares of his failures haunted him. The  muggle he had killed, his father's last breaths, his mother's tortured  moans, and the future he feared: Lily dead because of the prophecy he  had given the Dark Lord.

He woke up to his alarm a  few hours later. It was time for work, the only work he had managed to  find since he left Nott's private apothecary: unloading trucks for a  muggle store. He had ten NEWT's and he was stuck doing muggle manual  labor.

After work, he pretended  to read in his living room. It wouldn't do to have Karkaroff know he  was planning something. If Karkaroff learned that Severus's meant to not  become the spy, his death would take a lot longer to come by as the  Dark Lord tried to understand what Severus was trying to accomplish.

The Dark Lord had stated  that Dumbledore had a soft spot for remorse. Severus had to agree,  anytime Black and Potter pretended to have remorse he had let them off  with barely any consequences. However, with their repeat offenses, it  seemed that Dumbledore's threshold for remorse was low. If he wanted to  get out without helping the Dark Lord, he needed to have very low  remorse standards.

What if he spun the same  story he spun for the Dark Lord? He only wanted Lily spared for his own  interest. While it was mostly true, he still couldn't stomach the idea  of being the reason more people were dead. However, having slight truth  at the base of a false memory made it a lot easier.

His motive was to  convince Dumbledore that he was a lowly enough to not even care for the  lives of anyone but Lily. He knew he would have to say protect all of  them, but he would make it look like an afterthought. If he managed  that, Dumbledore would be too disgusted in him to want him as a  spy...hopefully.

As the time got closer  and closer for his meeting with Dumbledore, Severus couldn't help but  start nervously pacing. Dumbledore had been very upset when he saw that  Severus had heard the prophecy. It had been the most frightening  experience of his life as a Death Eater, including when he stepped in to  cover the Dark Lord's back against Dumbledore in a duel when some  cowardly Order members had attacked the Dark Lord from behind.

Here's how it would go:

Dumbledore would appear, what would you like to talk about? Your letter said it was urgent.

I told the Dark Lord about the prophecy and deeply regret it. He would reply. He means to target my best friend who I swore to protect: Lily Evans!

Oh my, that is important information. Do you know why he chose them over the Longbottoms?

I have no idea, I was not privy to that conversation. All I know is that he has chosen the Potters and I need Lily to be safe.

What? You do not care for the life of James and Harry Potter?

He would then let his  conversation with the Dark Lord play from when he asked what was on his  mind to when he promised to save Lily in exchange for success on a  mission. He could not let Dumbledore see what the mission was, he needed  him to be repulsed.

Save all of them then, he would reply after playing the memory. I just wanted to warn you for Lily's sake. I am taking a great risk to be here!

Very well, get out of my sight vermin! I don't want to see you ever again or I will end your selfish life!

Then he would have no  chance of asking to be the spy and it would look like he was too  cowardly to face Dumbledore. Then he thought about the almost death  threat he had received the last time he ran into Dumbledore. Hadn't he  told him to watch out if Severus told the Dark Lord about the prophecy?

What if Dumbledore  killed him before he told him about the Potters being targeted? It would  be the worst, his entire purpose in going to save Lily would fail. The  idea frightened him more than helping the Dark Lord by becoming his spy  inside Hogwarts.

His watch beeped, it was time.

Severus apparated to the  designated meeting spot. It was empty, luckily, but the weather  increased his nervousness. If he died now, Lily would be in greater  danger. There was a flash of light, and Severus found himself wandless  and on his knees.

"Don't kill me!" Severus called, recognizing that Dumbledore was using dark magic.

"That was not my intention." Dumbledore replied calmly.

Severus took some time  to catch his breath. He had not expected to be caught off guard like  that, the Dark Lord had trained him to be more careful. He needed to  calm down and clear his mind.

"Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No—no message," Severus hadn't expected this, "I'm here on my own account!"

Severus stood up and tried to avoid pacing, "I—I come with a warning—no, a request—please—"

He couldn't think  straight. What was wrong with him? He had planned this conversation all  day. Suddenly the wind stopped howling and blowing Severus about.  Somehow the stillness sunk deeper and Severus felt calmer.

"What request could a Death Eater make of me?" Dumbledore asked coldly.

"The—the prophecy...the  prediction....Trelawney..." Severus saw that Dumbledore was in his mind.  They were reliving their last encounter.

"Ah, yes. How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything—everything I  heard! That is why—it is for that reason—" Severus couldn't believe  that he was following the train of thought Dumbledore was leading him  on. He had hoped to have this conversation on his terms. "He thinks it  means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—"

"You know what I mean!"  Severus tried to calm down. Dumbledore was just like the Dark Lord and  everyone else, he was used to impertinence like this. "He thinks it  means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all—"

"If she means so much to  you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy  for the mother, in exchange for the son?"

Severus permitted the memory of his request to the Dark Lord to surface, "I have—I have asked him—"

"You disgust me!"

It was working. Severus  looked down to hide the triumph. He couldn't let it slip like he let it  slip in front of the Dark Lord. He could regain control of this  situation.

"You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Severus thought about the need to save Lily being more important and looked up at Dumbledore.

"Hide them all, then. Keep her—them—safe. Please."

He took a deep breath and kept his mind clear.

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In—in return?" Severus  gaped at Dumbledore. He was risking his life to share information to  save Lily, what could he possibly mean. Then it hit Severus like a rock.  Dumbledore wanted a spy, how could he have overlooked that possibility?  Was there something he could say to make it measured? The Dark Lord  hadn't given him any special information that would be of use to  Dumbledore other than what he had already told him.

Severus knew what he had  to say in order to not be suspicious in front of Karkaroff. As he  looked inside of himself, he knew it was the same as what he would  answer if he answered truthfully: "Anything."

"Very well, I think you already have an idea of what I have in mind," Dumbledore replied.

Severus nodded. He knew Dumbledore was legilimens just like the Dark Lord.

"Professor Slughorn has  put in his papers to resign at the end of this term. If I remember  correctly, you were quite talented when it came to potions. A posting  should appear in tomorrow's Daily Prophet, respond to it immediately. I  don't want Lord Voldemort to get suspicious, but I do realize you have  been looking for work for quite a while."

Severus nodded,  remembering how his interview for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post  had been cancelled after his spying on Trelawney's interview last year.  Even then he had been out of a job for six months. It was only after  losing the possibility of working at Hogwarts that he had applied to  work for the muggles in order to survive.

"Our next meeting will  be an interview and then I will bring you on to work with Professor  Slughorn for the last month. Starting June 1st, you will live under my  protection at Hogwarts. I will hide your involvement with the Death  Eaters until legal charges are raised against you and I will protect you  as long as you have lived up to your end of the bargain, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Severus replied.

"You may go, good luck."

Severus nodded at Dumbledore's well wishes and turned to disapparate back to his house.

Severus swore loudly as soon as he closed his front door.

Night

The baby Harry opened his eyes, a feeling of tingling was on his  chest, but no one was there, just the light of the moon streaming inside  through the window.

"Mama," Harry called out as a light pain spread on his chest, a mark  showed on his chest, a red mark before it disappeared as if it was never  there.

The pain disappeared, but Harry started crying as he felt someone was there inside.

"MAMA," Harry cried louder as the door opened; Lily walked over to  Harry, followed by James, who had his wand in his hand, looking around  the room; he couldn't see anyone.

Lily kissed Harry's head, trying to calm him. Harry stopped crying and gestured where he felt pain.

Lily looked on his little chest but couldn't see anything.

"It was just a bad dream, sweetheart," She whispered softly in his ear.

That night, Harry's bed was brought to their room. Harry fell asleep and dreamed of a falling star.