Face Another Day

November 9, 1979

From where they sat in the meeting room, the Potters felt the soft touch of the crackling fire wrap around them like a cozy shawl, and the thick wafts of Molly Weasley’s famous apple-cinnamon cider seemed to symbolize familiarity. Those were the only traces of warmth in that room, almost a mocking contrast to the pale faces etched with fear, the broken bodies, and a cold silence where grim words had recently been flung through the air like bullets.

The Order of the Phoenix had assembled hastily in the sitting room of the Black mansion, which had been newly acquired by its last namesake, Sirius Black, who was currently pacing the thickly-carpeted floor with hunched shoulders and a cross, but worried look about his handsome features. One of his two best friends, Remus Lupin, was sitting on a squashy, plastic-covered couch with a folded parchment tightly clutched in his hands. The other, James Potter, was sitting on the floor at the foot of said couch, leaned against his wife Lily, who was mending his bad shoulder for about the hundredth time.

At the center of the proceedings, a man with the strong posture of leadership and a rather long, white beard sat in a winged armchair, leaned against one hand and tapping the fingers of the other against the red leather arm of the chair. Albus Dumbledore’s normally twinkling eyes were intently focused on the patterned of the plush oriental rug at his feet, narrowed with thought and twinged with concern. A ring on his right hand glistened in the firelight, and every now and again, he’d inhale sharply as if he were about to speak, and then the entire room would collectively exhale after a couple of seconds of silence indicated he was still speechless.

No one had dared break the silence for nearly fifteen minutes that began when Dumbledore burst through the doors of the Black mansion. Only five were with him, which indicated his mission had fared poorly; they had started with nine people, including Remus, Sirius, and the Potters. The fifth survivor, the famous Auror Alastor “Mad-eye” Moody, had been inflicted by a jinx that rendered a partial paralysis, and he was currently being tended to in the master bedchambers on the first floor. Four more were unaccounted for: Sturgis Podmore, Marlene McKinnon, and brothers Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

“I can’t stand this anymore!” Molly Weasley finally shouted, her brown eyes brimmed with tears. She rose and transferred her sleeping newborn twins to her husband Arthur, retreating to the kitchens, the haven where cooking gave her some purpose in such desperate times. The Prewetts were her brothers, and the group knew she must be beside herself with anxiety as their whereabouts couldn’t be confirmed. Arthur had immediately wrapped his spindly arms about her for comfort and protection when the others had returned without a trace of the strapping brothers. Alice Longbottom followed Molly into the kitchens, armed with encouraging words and helping hands.

Dumbledore took Molly’s brave outburst as his cue to begin the proceedings. He stood, moved around to the tall back of the chair, and leaned against it as he spoke.

“As you all have gathered, many of our number did not return to the meeting place we had previously designated. We can only assume the Death Eaters have taken them to their headquarters, the location to which James Potter has somehow managed to procure.”

A murmur arose from the crowd. James cleared his throat. Remus flicked his wrist absently to draw attention to the parchments in his hand, the blank stare untouched on his face. As the location of the Black mansion had been carefully concealed by charms, Voldemort’s headquarters were Unplottable. Since Voldemort did not trust anyone, he had inscribed the location on a magical parchment that James had nicked during that afternoon’s commotion in the house of yet another missing half-blood wizard.

“We will have to regroup and pay our hooded friends a visit, and this must be done with haste,” Dumbledore continued. He looked around the room expectantly. “I will remain here for this one; my old bones are rather weary, and I fear I’d be no more than a hindrance to the mission.”

“This is to take place tonight, then?” asked Frank Longbottom, leaning forward much to the audible protest of the rickety wooden chair beneath him.

Dumbledore nodded.

“I will go,” he said with no hesitation.

“Me too,” said James, whose shoulder was freshly mended. He was filled with an antsy energy, the adrenaline of fear and youth surging through his veins. His wife Lily nodded her agreement and leaned forward, whispering angrily in James’ ear and squeezing his bad shoulder.

After a young man named Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus, and Sirius had all agreed to go, the others were much more hesitant, shifting uncomfortably in the furniture and avoiding eye contact. Noting this, Dumbledore announced that five would be sufficient for an inconspicuous raid.

The five quickly rose and gathered closely to a now-seated Dumbledore for further instruction. Consulting the map, he advised them to Apparate a street away and sneak to the house, taking great care not to be seen. The Death Eaters, he surmised, would certainly not expect the raid and, if the attack were executed soon, they’d still be regrouping from the events that had transpired earlier in the day.

“Be very cautious,” he concluded, and then nodded in the direction of the door. The assigned group gave the map a last glance, paused so Frank could kiss his wife goodbye, and retreated to the front lawn as Apparition was impossible within the mansion walls.

********************

They landed within seconds of each other on the tidy emerald lawn of a brown, Tudor-style house in a Muggle neighborhood. Luckily, the Muggle-detection talisman revealed no one had been in close enough proximity to witness the Apparition.

Voldemort’s hideout seemed dormant from the street, but the group knew that their colleagues were probably suffering therein. The Potters were huddled beneath James’ invisibility cloak, two of their hands clasped together and the other two clutching the cloak tightly around themselves. A flash of greenish glow snapped them back to their senses and they jogged to the house. There wasn’t time for additional mental preparation; it was time to initiate the attack.

“Be careful, Lil,” James warned, squeezing his wife’s hand. “Let’s stay together, in fact.”

“Okay, but if we split up, where will we meet when this is over?”

James raked through his untidy black hair absently and pointed to a house down the lane with a particularly thick sycamore tree in the front lawn. “There.”

The front door was locked, but before Remus could recite an unlocking spell, it burst open into many splinters. It was Sturgis Podmore and a Death Eater, whose cleft chin indicated it was their Hogwarts classmate Teddy Nott.

“It’s okay,” Podmore said breathlessly. “He’s stunned, this one. Go on in and try to come out in one piece.” Lily noticed a deep gash above one of his eyebrows and bit her lip, but quickly focused her attention on the task at hand.

Even from the foyer, the members of the Order could see an extensive amount of damage: cracks in the walls, shards of glass glittering about the polished wooden floors, overturned end tables, and portraits reduced to shredded tatters.

A dark, hooded figure was keeping watch on a massive sliding door that led to the backyard, it appeared; his back was to them.

Wait James, Lily willed her husband silently.

No such luck. James had quickly fired a Stunning spell, which hit the Death Eater in the back of the head. He careened into the glass door, and it shattered conspicuously.

Sirius cursed beneath his breath, but Remus appeared nonplused. He had apparently expected his friend to act rashly, and stood with his wand poised for the imminent throng of Death Eaters.

“Let’s form a circle,” Frank suggested, and the five wizards quickly assembled a makeshift circle with their backs nearly touching. Within seconds, about ten Death Eaters came toward the sound and spells began flying everywhere. Luckily Sturgis had rejoined them, and Marlene McKinnon was close behind him.

“Protego Circulo!” she shouted, producing a glowing blue shield that covered the circle from an immediate shower of angry red curses.

With incredible precision, James managed to stun two more Death Eaters with one Petrificus Totalus.

“Nice one, Potter,” Sirius yelled in encouragement as he stunned a Death Eater of his own.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lily noticed a pair of hooded figures running up the stairs to her left. Without pausing for thought, she separated from the circle and followed them as quietly as possible.

Drawing the hood of her cloak tightly around her face, the shadows concealed her fair features with ease.

“They’ve moved outdoors,” she heard an urgent voice say. “Here, Avery. Help me open this window. We can curse them from up here.”

Panic pulled at Lily’s insides, but she kept her mind rational and within seconds, she had formulated a logical plan of attack. There were two of them (that she knew of) and one of her, but they were about to exercise an unfair advantage over her friends. She, however, had an advantage of her own to work with.

Kicking open the door, Lily aimed her wand and yelled, “Impedimenta!” The closest Death Eater fell to the ground rigidly. She turned her wand to the second, but he had beat her to the punch.

“Crucio!” a rather nasal voice bellowed from beneath its cloak.

Lily screamed as pain rolled across her body in sharp waves. Slowly, she staggered to her feet and expertly blocked her opponent’s next hex, a Blasting curse that would have hit her in the midsection. In her weakened state, the spell forced her out of the room.

Curses flew consistently from the Death Eater’s wand, and the brightness and efficacy of her shields were dimming progressively, moving her backwards through the hallway slowly. Lily’s energy and strength had waned significantly because of the Cruciatus curse, and she was lucky to be standing, let alone operating a fully functional Protego shield.

Roaring with frustration, the Death Eater’s low voice emitted an unintelligible spell, and his wand emitted the most vivid green sparks Lily had ever seen.

“Mandimmobilus!” she managed before she smashed into the wall with a cry of shock, lost her bearings, and tumbled down the stairs. Her robes twisted about her, obscuring her vision, and she stopped abruptly when her leg snagged in a rung of the bannister, snapping viciously at the ankle. She screamed; the pain seemingly worse than any Cruciatus curse could ever feel.

In a split second, her anger had fueled a second strength. She yanked her hood from over her face and cast a gravelly “Stupefy!” which hit her attacker squarely in the chest. He fell onto his back, and his mask flew across the room, revealing the beady black eyes of Severus Snape.

Lily’s heart sank, and her stomach heaved so violently that the success of her own spell, which she’d personally designed to wire an attacker’s jaws closed, was completely overshadowed. Their eyes held for a moment, and his were completely unveiled, wide with shock and lowered in shame.

“I trusted you!” she cried, her lips quivering. “This isn’t you, Severus. I know you’re better than this.” Completely drained, she sank back onto the stairs, unable to look at him any longer. Snape’s breathing slowed and he remained motionless on the floor.

Mustering all the energy she could, Lily pulled herself up by the railing.

“Finite incantatem,” she whispered, and began to sob. Snape scrambled to his feet and stumbled around Lily and through the front door.

She lay sprawled across the stairs for several moments, too exhausted to move. Luckily, she was alone; the major duels were occurring out that back door, as far as she knew.

It was considerably quiet, and even though she knew that at any moment a Death Eater could stir in the foyer below her or burst from any of the doorways around her, she was surprisingly calm. If James were injured, she was sure she’d be able to feel it.

Still, the look of horror on Severus’ face confirmed what she’d denied so many times in the recent past: he was a Death Eater, and he’d meant to kill her. Had he known he was dueling with Lily all along, his Potions partner who had defended him adamantly against her very own husband? She’d let him go, she realized, still protecting him. Always protecting him, even after he’d started openly insulting her Muggle lineage.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps accompanied by voices. She closed her eyes, pretending to be dead. By the way she felt, she’d be surprised if she didn’t look as dead as she felt.

“LILY!” she heard James shout frantically. “WHERE’S LILY? WHERE’S MY WIFE?”

“I’m here,” she tried to call back, but her voice only squeaked a hoarse, sob-choked whisper. She heard the footsteps drawing nearer, and saw Remus’ bloodied face peek through he bannister.

“James!” he called. “She’s here. Oh Lily, are you alright?” He knelt next to her and pushed her damp hair back from her forehead.

She tried to speak again, but could only moan in reply. Her entire body was wracked with pain from being hit by the Cruciatus spell, and her ankle throbbed fiercely from the fall.

James pushed past Remus to get to his wife and held her tightly for a long moment.

“Have you been hit?” James asked, the fear in his eyes frightening her.

“By the Cruciatus. And, James, my–my ankle’s broken,” she admitted.

He peered at her ankle, which was still wrapped awkwardly around the rung. “Yes. Yes it is,” he replied pointedly with a wince on her behalf.

“Who did this to you?” Remus asked, a trace of animal anger in his normally neutral brown eyes.

“I– I don’t know,” she lied. “He escaped.”

James’ jaws clenched in anger.

“You’re alright?” Lily whispered, cupping his face in her hands.

He nodded, lowering his head in regret, and she knew his emotions prevented him from replying at that moment. “Remus,” he finally managed, “will you mend that?”

“James, we haven’t the time. Any moment now, Voldemort could return with more of his followers. We have to Disapparate immediately.”

Without hesitation, James carefully scooped Lily into his arms, and she clung to him tightly, burying her face in his chest. The rest of the battered Order volunteers were waiting for them just outside the front door, along with Sturgis and Marlene. The Prewett brothers, they learned, had been murdered shortly before the rescue team arrived.

“What happened?” Sirius asked, walking in step with them.

“Her ankle’s broken,” replied James in a low, bitter voice, his eyes steely focused on the road before them.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said in disgust. “I’m sure you’ll make sure every last one of them apologizes before you blast them to shreds.”

They reached the opposite end of the street. “Back to Headquarters,” Sturgis instructed grimly. They Disapparated and within seconds, they’d landed just outside the mansion.

“Here,” Remus said, extending his arms. “I’ll take Lily. You make sure no one’s followed us here.”

“No,” said James firmly. “I’ll not leave her.”

“Well, alright,” relented Remus, and he ran around the side alley adjacent to the house.

James took Lily inside, where an Energizing potion was waiting for her. After she'd drained the foul-smelling goblet, her vitality had returned, but she couldn't quite come to terms with the startling revelation she'd learned that evening; this attack was far more personal than any hurtful word or hex Snape could ever manage. Lily felt personally betrayed, and the sense of loyalty she'd always fiercely upheld had been in regard to Snape.

Forcing the thoughts from her mind, she smiled bravely and clung to her husband as Minerva McGonagall mended her ankle. His eyes stung with tears as he felt his wife’s sharp intakes of breath and the pull of his jumper as she bunched the fabric in pain. He combed her hair softly with his fingers in assurance and sympathy.

“Alright there, Evans?” he whispered in her ear.

“Fine,” she replied through clenched teeth. “And it’s Potter.”

“Glad to see your ire intact,” he said facetiously and sniffled faintly.

“Are you crying, James?”

“What?” he swiped at his eyes. “No!”

Lily pressed against him, grateful for his loving concern.

Crack. Lily shrieked and drew her leg to her chest as the bones came into place. Relief.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said.

“Just Minerva now; you’ll take care to remember,” the older woman nodded sternly. “Take it easy for a couple of days, Miss–Mrs. Potter. The debriefing should begin momentarily.” Their former professor gathered the hem of her hunter green robes in one hand and retreated, leaving them in the room alone.

The couple sat silently for a moment, just holding one another tenderly.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Lily said softly, tracing the outline of James’ jaw with her finger.

He looked at her thoughtfully, and this time there was no denying the tears pooling in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “When I saw you laying there on the stairs, I thought you were...” He trailed off, breathing shallowly. “If you’d been–I don’t know what I would’ve done."

“Shhh, Darling,” she smiled. “I’m alright. We’re alright. We’ve lived to face another day.”

“The Prewetts weren’t so lucky,” James sighed. “Sturgis told me it took several Death Eaters to, you know, to finish them.”

“How’s Molly managing?”

“Dumbledore’s in with her right now.”

“I don’t what I would do...” Lily didn’t bother finishing her train of thought.

“We’ve survived Voldemort himself twice now, so I think we’re doing pretty well. But no matter what happens, we are fighting for something greater than ourselves, and if we die, it will be for the sake of mankind. I’m just so glad that we’re in this together and we can share this. One of these days, this will all be in the past, and Voldemort will be nothing more than a bedtime story we tell our grandchildren.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Once again, silence fell upon the couple, and they sat searching each other’s eyes for several moments. Lily was amazed that she and her husband could communicate volumes without the use of words.

“I love you more than life itself,” James told her fervently.

She squeezed his hand. “I love you, too. More than life and for all time,” Lily added.

That night, in the darkness of their cozy first flat, The Boy Who Lived was given life.