Draught of Living Death

“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…” Severus Snape, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, pg. 137

AN: Basically, this whole plot stemmed from that one line. I’ve read many different (and some outrageous) explanations for why James  and Lily could be alive, but I have never read one where they use the Draught of Living Death. I hope (like all my stories) that you enjoy the ride, because this is proving to be one hell of a roller coaster. I will also say right now that this will be a definite Harry/Hermione and James/Lily (obviously) story. I have no idea on the other pairings, or even if there will BE any other pairs.

After reading the comments, a long conversation with my beta, and a short argument with my inner angst-muse, I came to the conclusion that the first version was too fluffy. As such, I have re-vamped this story. It is now AU after Order of the , meaning that yes, Sirius is dead, but it does not strictly follow canon. It will definitely be AU after HBP comes out, since I doubt that JKR is going to bring James and Lily back.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, then I don’t own it. If it’s a new person, place, or thing, then I do.

Chapter 1

At first glance, the crypt was completely silent and undisturbed. Inside were two coffins. At the head of one, a large stone tiger sat calmly, watching over the occupant with fierce eyes. At the head of the other, a giant stag stood proudly, ready to defend its charge at all costs. Inscribed in a stone plaque between the coffins were the words: James and Lily Potter. There was no need for flowery words, or tearful sentiments. Those that knew James and Lily knew better than anyone that there were no words to describe the light and love their friends had brought to their lives, or the sorrow and loss felt down to the soul upon their deaths.

Inside the tomb of Lily Potter, a soft light glowed for a moment, although there was no outer source. The petite redhead lay peacefully, as if in a deep sleep, her arms folded over her chest. A small piece of paper was clutched in one hand, her wand in the other. After a moment, her eyes fluttered...and slowly opened.

“What the….OW! Bloody Hell! Lumos!” Light flared from her wand as she scowled, reaching awkwardly up to rub her head. “What’s this….oh. That would explain the lack of room. BOMBARDA!”

The box exploded from around her, leaving her sitting on the stone table upon which the coffin had been placed. Lily shook the dust from her hair and stretched, before hoping down off of the table. “Ohhhhh…that was a bad idea…” she moaned as her legs collapsed from under her. Wincing as the pins and needles jabbing her signaled the return of blood flow, she staggered to her husband’s coffin and rapped sharply. “Oy! James! Wakey wakey! And watch your—“ A muffled thump interrupted the rest of her sentence. “Head,” she finished weakly to the grumbled cursing.

A muttered spell, Lily diving for the ground, and an exploded box later, and James Potter grimaced and stretched. “Lil? What happened? Did the potion wear off?”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Obviously, or else we would still be asleep.” She walked over to the heavy stone door and tugged. “How are we supposed to get out of here?”

“Well, excuse me, Miss Potions Mistress!” James retorted. “This was your idea, you know.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me, we’d be dead, thanks to Peter!” Lily replied hotly. “If I hadn’t convinced you to keep that vial of the Draught in your robes at all times, just in case—“

“Alright, alright!” James held up his hands in surrender. “You’re a goddess. Now what do you say we get out of here, hmm? How long were we asleep, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Lily bit her lip. “I wasn’t even sure it would work—“

“What?” James yelped.

Lily glared at him. “Well, it’s not like we’ve ever had cause to actually use the potion before! Snape and Remus were both better at Potions than I was, and I couldn’t exactly ask them for help, could I?” She snapped. “Once we get out of here, we can find a newspaper or something, but first we have to actually OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!”

James blinked twice, then grinned. A flick, a swish, and an, “Alohormora!” and the heavy stone door swung soundlessly open.

“Show off,” Lily muttered crossly, stomping out the door.

“Love you too, Tiger Lily.” James laughed as they stepped out into the darkness. Despite their bickering, they were on high alert for surprises as they made their way across the ’s Hollow.

A gentle touch on Lily’s right shoulder made her instantly freeze in her tracks at the signal. “We’re at Godric’s Hollow.” James murmured in her ear. “The house is gone, but that was to be expected, since He burned it down. Harry wasn’t in the crypt with us, and I don’t see his name on any of the tombstones out here, so there’s a good chance he’s alive. Did you perform the heart to heart charm on him like we planned?”

“Oh!” Lily had forgotten about the heart to heart charm, which was used to help parents find wayward young wizards and witches who had a tendency to wander off. The charm was similar to a tracking spell, only it tracked the blood of the caster rather than a physical object. She thought for a moment, then whispered the incantation, and watched in satisfaction as her wand began to vibrate slightly. “He’s near here—very near.” She frowned. “James, my sister lives near here. You don’t think…” Upon finding that Voldemort was targeting them, Lily had insisted on remaining near Petunia out of her sister’s safety, even when they went into hiding. They had also hoped that Voldemort would be thrown off by the fact that they would stay so close to a Muggle neighborhood, rather than hide somewhere in the wizarding world.

“Only one way to find out,” James replied grimly. “Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand as she closed her eyes and concentrated. Moments later, there as a soft pop! and they disappeared.

“Oh yes,” Lily muttered, glancing around the picture perfect neighborhood with its neatly trimmed lawns, identical houses, and freshly washed cars in each driveway. “This looks exactly like the type of place Petunia would choose.” She looked at her wand, which was trembling furiously as they neared their goal. “This way.”

They crept down the quiet street, lit only by the lonely streetlamps. Lily stopped at Number Four. “This is it.” She whispered, their plans to find a newspaper and information on how long they had been asleep forgotten in the wake of possibly seeing their son. A small grin curved her lips as she looked at her husband. “Give me a lift up?”

“But of course.” James returned the grin. Another flick and swish with a whispered, “Windgardium Leviosa!” and Lily was floating towards her son’s bedroom window.

Her eyes widened in shock as she grabbed the steel bars blocking the window, before narrowing in anger at the sight behind the bars. “James!” She hissed, performing the levitation charm on him before he could protest. “Get up here now!”

Inside the small bedroom, fifteen year old Harry Potter turned over in his sleep, unaware of the two pairs of eyes watching him from outside. He had long since tossed what few covers he had onto the floor; it was too bloody hot to tolerate anything more than boxers, especially since Uncle Vernon had promptly reinstalled the bars over his window upon his return to Privet Drive. He had sent Hedwig to Hermione for her safety, knowing the snowy owl would be well taken care of.

It’s all your fault, the hated sibilant voice whispered through his dreams. Sirius is dead because of you. Your parents sacrificed themselves to save you. Your friends, even that worthless mudblood, followed you into danger because they trusted you. And look what happened. You got them hurt, nearly killed.

“No,” Harry whimpered, thrashing around furiously but unable to escape the silken chains Voldemort was weaving around his mind. Made of his own doubts, guilt, and secrets, he fought desperately against a loosing battle. “It wasn’t my fault!” he yelled desperately. “I tried to save him!” Images flashed through his mind in a dizzying kaleidoscope; Sirius, falling through the Veil, Hermione’s lifeless body, Ron’s screams of terror as the brains attacked him, Neville, bleeding from his broken nose, Ginny, hobbling along, her face pale with pain as she tried to put weight on her ankle….SiriusHermioneRonNevilleGinnyLuna….”NO!”

Tell me the prophecy, Voldemort hissed. Tell me! You can’t trust anyone anymore, not even your precious Dumbledore! He kept secrets from you, information that could’ve saved your beloved godfather! What else is he keeping from you? Who will he sacrifice next, in the name of the greater good? TELL ME!

Delving deeper into the boy’s thoughts, the Dark Lord smiled viciously. Ah, yes. Your parents…The root of all your troubles. If only they had kept Black as their Secret-Keeper, then they would still be alive and with you right now. One big happy family….the hissing voice turned menacingly silky. How dare they even suspect Black! He was supposed to be your father’s best friend! It’s their fault!

Outside, Lily and James watched in dismay as the small, thin boy with James’ hair thrashed restlessly on the bed. “Harry…” Lily breathed, reaching out one hand to the window. The touch of cold glass brought her back to the present, and she jerked it back. “How dare they? By the time I get done with my sister, she won’t be able to move!” Pulling her wand out, she tapped each bar twice, watching in satisfaction as they disintegrated into dust.

“Wait!” James held up his hands at his wife’s furious glare. “Think for a minute. Harry believes we’re dead, Lil. We have to convince him this isn’t a sick joke before we can deal with Petunia, otherwise he’ll raise the alarm.” He paused as she relaxed slightly. “I’ll open the window; you put a Silencing spell and body bind on him while I raise some shields so no one can hear. Better do it wandless; can’t be too cautious.”

Lily nodded. James waved his hand, and the window flew open, causing a slight breeze to rustle the curtains and wash over the restlessly slumbering boy’s form.  They floated in, landing lightly on the floor. Lily struck as he sat up suddenly, eyes wide and blank from whatever night terrors had been plaguing his dreams. Before he could go for his wand, she froze him with the body bind. His chest rose and fell with quick, panicked breaths as he realized he was confined. His eyes darted from Lily to James, suspicion and fear clear in the emerald depths.

“Before you freak out, Harry, just listen to what we have to say, and then I’ll remove the Bind.” Lily said in a low tone before he could panic. Feeling the warning hum that signaled the rising of wandless magic, she knew she would have to talk fast. Her son had always had an uncanny aptitude for magic when he was surprised or scared, even as a baby. She didn’t want to think about what he could do as an adolescent…“Yes, we are your parents, Lily and James Potter. I know everyone believes us to be dead; that’s what we wanted them to do. You know the truth about Peter and Sirius and the Secret Keeper switch?”

Harry managed to nod stiffly, although his eyes were still dark with suspicion. “Well, we knew that one of our friends—either Sirius, Remus, or Peter—was the traitor, but we weren’t completely sure of which one. So we set a trap by switching Peter and Sirius, but made sure we had a backup plan, just in case.” She glanced up at James, who continued.

“Lily brewed two vials of the Draught of Living Death, which we kept with us at all times. When Voldemort threw the Killing curse at me, I managed to swallow the vial and fall to the floor, although I still got hit by the spell. He thought I was dead, as did everyone else.” He explained in a low baritone. “As Aurors, Lily and I are required to make up wills in the event of our deaths, including what to do with the bodies, which is why we were buried in the Potter crypt instead of cremated.”

Harry’s eyes switched from him to Lily, fixing her with a questioning gaze. She smiled softly. “You’re probably wondering about my ‘love sacrifice’, and the blood protection spell. Oh, yes, I know all about that—I’m the one who mentioned it to Albus. And I figured that if the Draught didn’t work in coordination with the sacrifice, you would at least be protected until James woke up.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Do you know how the Draught works?”

He shook his head.

“Well, it basically sends you into a deep meditation. To all outward appearances, it looks as if you are truly dead—your heart slows down to a crawl, as does your blood flow.“ Lily took on a slightly lecturing tone that reminded Harry of Hermione. “The killing curse, on the other hand, actually speeds up your heart, so you die of blood vessels bursting in your brain. Luckily, I made the Draught strong enough to counter the effects of the curse, for the most part.” She frowned. “I think that’s why we were asleep so long; the curse sent us deeper than we had planned to go, and we had to find our way back.”

“Back to the issue at hand,” James interrupted when it looked like his wife was going to go off on a tangent. “We just woke up, so to speak. Everyone believes that we’re dead. Could you tell us what has happened, Harry? Why are you here with the Dursleys instead of with Sirius? Where IS Sirius, anyway? What’s the year? How old are you? What House are you in? Where’s—“

“James, hold off a moment, let the poor boy breathe,” Lily scolded. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Harry, I’m going to lift the Body-bind off of you. Can you behave if I release you from the Silencing spell as well?”

She waited for his stiff nod, and lifted the spells. Harry coughed and rubbed his throat before shaking out his arms. His parents watched him expectantly and a little warily. “Wow,” he murmured in awe, watching them with the same fascination. “Mum…Dad? This is so….surreal and weird that it has to be true. You’re really alive.” He tentatively reached out a hand, half-afraid that he was wrong; that this was really some fantastic dream and he was going to wake up any moment…His hand encountered the warm, solid, real shoulder of his father. Tears slipped soundlessly down his cheeks as his parents crushed him into a hug.

When they each felt the others had regained control of their emotions, they pulled away. Harry sat up against his headboard, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them with his arms.

Slowly the euphoria ebbed away as the remnants of his dream slashed through his mind, leaving a dull red haze. “You’re too late!” He snarled suddenly. “Sirius is dead! He died thinking you believed he was the traitor instead of that rat Pettigrew! He was your BEST FRIEND! How dare you even suspect that he would even do such a thing! You-you—Get OUT!”

“Harry—“ Lily reached out instinctively as he hissed and clapped a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

“NO! Get OUT! He’s still here, you can’t be here, he’ll know you’re alive! LEAVE!” His hand crashed down on the nightstand, hitting a red buzzer that immediately began flashing wildly. “Voldemort is connected to me, he can read my mind—“

“SHIT!” James swore, catching on quicker than Lily had. “Lily, we have to go now!”

Her heart racing, she glanced back to where her son was. His back arched in pain, but he kept his eyes shut and away from the window as he fought his internal battle. Biting her lip, she took James’s hand and they jumped out of the window and into the darkness below. Breathing hard and fighting to conceal it, they watched as lights flared from inside the house. With their absence, all traces of their magic had vanished as well, which meant the Dursleys had been woken by Harry’s screaming.

Lily took two long heartbeats to close the window and repair the bars before taking her husband’s hand. She heard the sharp crack! that signaled wizards Apparating nearby, and exchanged a look with James.

“Back to the Hollow,” he said grimly. She nodded, and they vanished.

Inside, Harry gritted his teeth, focusing on going through the calming exercises Snape had taught him. His uncle ranted and raved nearby, arms flailing wildly as he screamed. Petunia and were no where to be seen. He didn’t strike Harry though, having learned the hard way that the volatile teenager would strike back if physically attacked in anyway.

“That’s IT!” bellowed. “I’ve had enough! I don’t care about those freaky friends of yours, you are not staying here one more minute! Tomorrow I’m calling the psychiatric ward! They’ll cart you off to the loony bin where you belong! Let someone else deal with you!”

“Enough.”

Surprised, he stopped mid-rant to glare at the interloper. When he saw who it was, his face darkened to an ugly puce. “You!” He snarled.

Remus Lupin took a prowling step forward, his eyes glinting dangerously. “I was on patrol when Harry hit the alarm.” One slashing glance took in the shabby bedroom, the locks on the door, the bars on the window, the cat flap, and the thin boy still trembling on the too small bed. He stiffened as two very familiar scents that he hadn’t caught whiff of for nearly fifteen years teased his nose. His lip curled. “You just got your wish, Dursley. Harry, pack your things. You’re coming with me.”

“You can’t just take him! What will protect us from that Moldysnort person then? It’s his fault we’re in danger in the first place!” protested, completely going against his original rant. Harry couldn’t help stifling a quiet snicker at his uncle calling the feared Dark Lord “Moldysnort”.

The werewolf turned on the obtuse man with a snarl as Harry quietly moved about the room. “I can, and I will. Dumbledore will have to find some other way to protect your worthless hides. Your lives are not worth the mental and physical well being of this child.” He leaned into ’s face and breathed, “If you value your pathetic life and those of your wife and son, you will get out of my way right now. Otherwise, I will rip you to pieces.”

“You’re a maniac!” gasped, backing away.

Lupin bared his teeth. It wasn’t a smile. “No. I’m a werewolf.” fled, and he turned to his charge. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered quietly. Lupin could see the heavy circles under his eyes as he gripped his wand in one hand and his trunk in the other.

“Let’s go.” Tightening the leash on the wolf within, Lupin took the trunk and led the way down the stairs. The Dursleys never appeared, a fact for which he was grateful. In the front yard, he pulled out a Portkey in the form of a set of keys.

“Where are we going?” Harry said warily. He was grateful for the rescue, but not if it meant going to Black Manor, where the memories of Sirius were still as sharp as broken glass. A distant part of his mind wondered why there hadn’t been more of a reaction to his alarm or Lupin’s kidnapping, but he didn’t mention it.

“To my house,” Lupin replied. “We need to talk, and that’s the most secure place I know of.”

Harry nodded, and took hold of the key ring, feeling the familiar jerk behind his navel that signaled Portkey travel.

Harry didn’t have much of a chance to do more than glance around the modest brick house before Lupin propelled him forward with a firm hand on his shoulder. “First things first. You are going to take a hot shower. Then we will eat, and you and I are going to have a nice long chat.”

“But won’t Dumbledore—“ Harry protested automatically.

“Dumbledore is preoccupied with Order matters and dealing with the Ministry at the moment. He has entrusted me to use my judgment regarding your well being,” Lupin answered. Although I’m pretty sure this isn’t exactly what he had in mind. Ah, well. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. He pointed toward the bathroom. “Shower. Now.”

He watched the teen shrug and turn away before heaving a sigh of relief and heading for the kitchen. He needed some time to harness the riot of emotions storming through him. This was only the second time Harry had been panicked enough to hit the alarm, and the first time had been an accident. Something had to seriously freak the kid out for him to call in outside help rather than trying to deal with it himself. Lupin severely hoped it was simply a matter of Voldemort plotting another attack, and didn’t have to do with that scent he had caught back at the Dursley’s.

The hauntingly familiar blend of peppermint and spice from James’ aftershave, mixed with the light scent that was Lily’s special perfume that James had had made for her for their first Valentine’s Day together had brought back memories that were best left buried. Only…Lupin closed his eyes and breathed in, bringing it back to memory. There was something different…a sense of time and earth wove a subtle layer underneath it all. He shook his head violently. He was imagining things. Lily and James were dead. There was no bringing them back. Whatever he had sensed must’ve been from the old photo album Hagrid had given Harry.

Resolutely putting the entire thing from his mind, the former Professor began searching through his cupboards for suitable ingredients for dinner. He was imagining things. This was just another Voldemort attempt at Harry torture. Nothing more, nothing less…

James and Lily plodded desolately through the light misting rain that had begun to fall as soon as they had reached Godric’s Hollow. There was no one around, although it was broad daylight, so there was no need for secrecy as they reached the crypt and shut the heavy stone door behind them. Moving on auto pilot, Lily created a small magical fire for warmth, while James lit the torches. Neither one looked at the coffins where they had lay only a few hours before.

“He hates us.” Lily’s voice was devoid of all the fiery emotion that was usually her trademark. “Our son hates us, James. Sirius is dead. We have no idea if Remus is still alive. Peter betrayed us. Voldemort is back. We don’t know who we can trust. What are we going to do?”

He stared into the flames for a long moment. Auror training warred hard with a father’s agony and just barely regained control. “Lock it down, Lil,” he warned in a deliberately hard tone. He saw her swallow hard and clench her jaw before nodding. “We need to get more information, and fast, which means either Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.” He glanced at his wife. “We need new clothes, supplies, and disguises, and not necessarily in that order. Plus we need something to eat. I’m hungry.” His stomach grumbled loudly in support.

A faint, reluctant smile flitted across her lips before she pursed them in thought. “We can’t use magic; someone will sense it for sure and raise the alarm. Which means we need Muggle supplies; hair dye, contacts, the works. And we need a newspaper, since we never did find out the date from---“ she stopped. “The only problem is getting to Diagon Alley without being discovered, and withdrawing funds from a vault owned by two people that the wizarding world believes to be dead.”

James slumped. She was right. “We need to find Remus; or at least find out if he’s still alive.”

“What about Aunt Minerva?” Lily said suddenly. “She won’t tell anyone until we’re ready, not even Dumbledore.”

James didn’t question why she would want to keep the news of their reappearance a secret. His own instincts were screaming at him to reveal their presence to as few people as possible. “We need supplies first.” A thought occurred to him. “Say, do you think that muggle savings account you opened in Harry’s name is still around?”

“It might be…” Lily mused, thinking hard. “Only one way to find out.” She jumped up. “Let’s go.” She opened the door, only to shut it quickly as the sounds of an unexpected summer storm blew in and nearly put out the torches. “Or not.”

“First thing tomorrow.” James sighed, conjuring up a pillow for him to lean against.

“Tomorrow,” Lily agreed, echoing his sigh and curling up next to him. They stared once more into the flames. “Tomorrow, we get some answers.”

***

Lupin watched in horrified amusement as the youth hungrily devoured the hot soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. A summer storm had set in, inspiring the rainy day meal. Harry didn’t seem to care one way or another as he started on his third sandwich. Lupin took a sip of tea, the cup barely hiding his frown as he noted once again how thin the teen was. For Merlin’s sake, he was nearly sixteen, yet the former Marauder guessed he didn’t weigh more than 140 pounds wet. And twenty of those pounds could be attributed to the sheer amount of material hanging off of his slender frame.

Taking out his wand, he murmured an incantation, watching in grim satisfaction as the baggy shirt and jeans shrunk to a quarter of their normal size. They were still loose, but at least now Harry couldn’t potentially hide Buckbeak under his t-shirt if need be.

Harry glanced down in surprise. “Thanks!” he said, clearly revived. “I think that’s up there with Occulus Repairo on my list of spells to remember.”

The older man inclined his head, although he didn’t say a word. He simply fixed Harry with those gold-brown eyes, and waited.

Harry gulped. That look was very effective. He wondered if that was a talent only for people with brown eyes, because Hermione was very good at that look too. And, just like with his best female friend, he knew better than to try to bluff his way out. Licking his lips nervously, he slowly told his former Professor about the Voldemort dream, and his parents appearing.

“It was so real,” he frowned. “I reached out and touched my Dad, and it felt so real.” He looked at Lupin, his eyes pleading. “And the whole Draught explanation—it made so much sense! But then Voldemort—what he said about Sirius—I didn’t know if that was an echo of the dream or if he was still there, so I panicked. That’s when I hit the alarm.” He bit his lip. “Professor, you do believe me, don’t you?”

Lupin ignored the title, which had turned more into an affectionate term of respect than anything, and met his eyes squarely. “I believe you, Harry.” He held up a hand as the boy’s eyes lit up. “But we can’t do anything about it. We don’t know where your parents are—“He paused for a moment. It was harder to say those words than he had thought. “And we can’t do anything without more proof. You know that. You know what you saw, and I know that you have been consistently right enough times over the past years for me to trust in what you say. But there’s nothing to be done right now.”

Harry squelched down hard on his instinctive protest. Only his respect for the older man led him to nod reluctantly.

“Now, I expect the results of that shower and hot food should be kicking in about now,” Lupin said, even as Harry’s eyes fluttered and he stifled a yawn. “Go take a nap on the couch. I need to check on a couple of things, but I should be back soon. The house is Unplottable; not even Dumbeldore knows precisely where I am. The fireplace is one-way Floo, just in case. It is connected to Dumbledore, Minerva, and a safe entrance in Diagon Alley near the Shrieking Shack. If something happens, I want you to go there. I will find you, understand me? Do not try anything heroic, Harry. I mean it.” He waited until he got another grudging nod, and sighed. “As I said, I should be back soon, mostly likely in a couple of hours.” He gave the boy a gentle push toward the living room. “Go to sleep, Harry.”

He waited until the boy was curled up on the couch before pulling on his rain slicker and stepping outside. His destination was within walking distance, although it was the hardest mile and a half he had ever walked. As he passed Godric’s Hollow, his pace became slower, more reluctant. Come on, old man, he chided himself. Where’s that ole’ Gryffindor courage? Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the Potter crypt that held Lily’s and James’s bodies. Pulling out his wand, he said firmly, “Alohomora!”

Lupin held his breath as the stone door swung open…to reveal Lily and James Potter staring back at him in surprise.