December, 1975. The day after Christmas …
Patricia Potter came home at four in the morning on Boxing Day and went straight to bed. She didn't see her son watching her from the couch in the living room.
James hadn't slept much on Christmas night. His father had gone to bed around midnight, and James had taken over his spot in the living room, watching the fire in the hearth burn to ashes as he dozed off on the couch. Four hours later, the coals were smouldering, and his mother came home. James heard the pop as she Apparated into the hallway and knew she was tired; otherwise, she would have gone straight to her room.
'Mum?'
She was lost in her own world, dragging her feet as she climbed the stairs. She didn't hear him.
James went back to watching the glow from the coals fade into darkness. But by the time they went out completely, the sun had begun to rise and there was no longer darkness.
Lily woke up at six though she'd barely slept three hours. Every time she managed to doze off, she'd been dragged back to consciousness by the horribly vivid memory of people trapped, screaming and begging, behind an invisible wall. People who had been burnt alive.
In the bed across the room, Petunia slept peacefully, her slumber untrammelled by horrible nightmares. Lily tossed and turned fretfully, wishing that she could be her sister just this once.
If only she hadn't seen; hadn't gone and found out about last night's events …
Then she'd have heard about it when she went back to Hogwarts.
Would she have cared so much, if she'd only learnt about it at Hogwarts?
It was a difficult question to answer. She would have liked to say yes, she would have been just as appalled, if she had read in the Prophet that innocent Muggles had been killed during the quest to hunt down You-Know-Who's followers. But the truth was … most likely it wouldn't have as much impact as seeing it with her own eyes.
She wouldn't have believed such cruelty and heartlessness was possible from the very Aurors who were meant to be saviours of the wizarding world, delivering them from harm.
Briefly, she thought of Alastor Moody, who had agreed with her that the Death Eaters hadn't deserved it, and the Muggles had even less. She still believed it; even Death Eaters, no matter what awful crimes they had committed, even if they had murdered and tortured countless others, didn't deserve to be burnt alive.
And to allow innocent Muggles to be sacrificed just for the purpose of killing Death Eaters …
How different from You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters were they?
Lily squeezed her eyes shut, as though the action could close her mind against this disturbing realisation. She tried hard to shift her inner train of thought in a different direction.
It could have been us.
The chilling thought struck Lily like a bolt of lightning. If it'd been just a few streets down, she would be dead now. Her parents would be dead. Petunia would be dead.
It was completely nerve-wracking to think about it.
Softly, so as not to wake Petunia, she got up and tiptoed down to the kitchen.
Usually, Lily didn't drink coffee, not liking the bitter taste. Today, she made herself a cup and sat at the table, sipping it. She felt as bitter inside as the hot, dark liquid going down her throat.
It was hard to believe that the world continued to turn, after yesterday night. But the sun was still rising, slowly casting its golden rays over a world that seemed to be all burnt to ashes.
It was front-page news for the Daily Prophet: Necessary Sacrifice to Capture Death Eaters.
James was the first to read it; the owl had delivered it at sunrise and he'd paid the five Knuts for their subscription.
So that was what his mother and the rest of the Aurors had been doing last night. James's blood ran cold as he read the rest of the article.
Ten Death Eaters killed or captured. Thirty-six Muggles dead.
The Aurors had done this. His mother had done this.
The Prophet called it revenge for the Darlington murders.
Revenge was what his father had called it, yesterday.
Revenge was his reason for hexing and cursing Slytherins in school.
Revenge was what had nearly got Remus expelled.
Revenge had killed thirty-six innocent Muggles who probably hadn't even been involved except to be so unlucky as to become random casualties.
What was the point?
He'd been heading down that path himself. James realised this with a chill. Would he become as ruthless as Bartemius Crouch, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, if he went on the way he did, with his hexes and jinxes and petty vengeances?
Lily had been right about him all along. And he'd been too arrogant to see it.
Lily.
James felt his insides twist with sudden anxiety as a single sentence from the article caught his eye: 'The Aurors gathered last night at the seaside town of Folkestone.' Folkestone. He scanned the paper again to be sure he had read correctly.
Because Lily lived in Folkestone.
Had Lily been in that fire? Had she been … was she …? His mind faltered at the word 'dead'. Surely not - not Lily, of all people!
His heart raced as he carefully scrutinised every last detail of the paper, praying that he wouldn't see anything confirming that she had been a victim, one of the thirty-six Muggle casualties - not that she was a Muggle, but it'd be assumed so, if she'd been - if she was …
It was inconclusive; James couldn't be sure if Lily had been involved or not.
Please don't let her be, please let her be safe.
He didn't know what he'd do if she was gone. A world without Lily seemed bleak and dreary.
'James.'
His mother, looking worn and haggard, framed by the doorway, was watching him. Her eyes flickered towards the Prophet in his hands, and her face sagged even more.
James felt a burst of anger surge through him. How could his mother actually be part of something like this? After all she'd taught him, after he'd believed in her, looked up to her …
'James -'
'I don't want to hear it,' he said. He was aware of his mother's pleading eyes on him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet them. He didn't want her to explain herself to him, to mitigate this horrific thing that she had done, didn't want to believe that it was any less wrong because of whatever reason she had.
Finally, she left him alone. James heard her footsteps echo down the hallway.
What was he to do now?
Lily crossed her arms and met her parents' eyes defiantly.
'Whether you like it or not, Dad, I'm already a part of the magical world. I can't just leave.'
'Lily, your father and I are worried about your safety,' pleaded Mrs Evans.
'From what Mr Moody told us, this - Dark Lord character, this war the magical world's in … it isn't something you should be involved in,' said Mr Evans.
'And you think I'll be safe away from Hogwarts and magic? Dad, I need to learn how to use my magic even more because of this! Do you know what Death Eaters do? They torture and kill Mug - non-magic people for fun! I need to go to Hogwarts, Dad; I need to learn how to protect us!'
'And what if something happens to you in school, what if these - Death Eaters attack you there?'
'Dad, Hogwarts is the safest place possible in the magical world!'
'I really don't think you should go back, Lily. It's far too dangerous.'
'But I have to, Dad. Mum! Don't you agree with me? I need to go back to Hogwarts.'
'I really don't want you involved in all this …'
'Mum, we're all involved in this…it's a war concerning you too, even if you don't understand it.'
'A war where they treat people like us, your family, as cannon fodder, if I understand it correctly,' interjected Mr Evans.
Mrs Evans sighed. 'Why don't you tell us more, Lily?'
'It's not easy to explain, Mum.'
'Try.'
'Well … it starts with a Dark wizard … like a criminal? He went bad and used his magic in wrong ways. And - there are some people in the wizarding world who think that Muggle-borns like me shouldn't be allowed to use magic, and that Muggles are inferior because they don't have magic. And the - the Dark wizard thinks that way, and he's got a lot of followers so they're trying to gain power. And the Ministry of Magic - that's the government - is fighting against him, trying to stop him.' When she put it that way, it sounded so simplistic. And yet it was so much more complicated; Lily wasn't sure herself whether it was a fight for Muggle and Muggle-born rights. Or a case of revenge against the other side for the deaths they had caused. Or simply a fight that had to continue because it had been started.
Her mother, thankfully, seemed to understand enough.
'So you're saying … this Dark wizard would like to wipe us out?'
'Something like that.'
'To tell the truth, it sounds rather fantastical.'
'It's not a fantasy, Mum. It's magic - and it's my world now. I'm a witch.'
'I know, I know … it's just … it's just hard to accept, that you're part of this something … a war which is so hard for us to understand. But I suppose … I understand that you can't just leave either ...'
Lily nodded hard. Her mother sighed once again, and turned to her father.
'She'll have to go back, David.'
'You couldn't … try to adapt to a life without magic, Lily?' asked Mr Evans.
'It's not a matter of adaptation, Dad. I am magic. I couldn't ask you to adapt to a life as a girl, could I?'
Slowly, her father nodded.
'You can't just let her!' Petunia, who had been silently watching the argument, suddenly leapt to her feet.
'Pet -' started Lily.
'You're going back to that school - after you saw what your people do? Knowing how dangerous it is? I can't believe it!'
'Pet, that's where I belong!'
'You're just going to get yourself killed there and then what are we going to do?'
'Pet, I'm not going to be killed!'
Petunia stared at her with blazing eyes. 'You're a fool, Lily,' she said, in a soft, deadly voice. Then she walked out of the room.
Mrs Evans put her arms around Lily. 'Don't worry, she'll come round.'
'I hope so,' murmured Lily.
He hadn't spoken to his mother the entire day. He'd gone out, with his trusty Nimbus 1000, to do some very steep dives. James might be a Chaser, but he'd always admired and loved Seeker-style dives. The house-elves had packed him sandwiches for lunch, which he ate when he was good and hungry.
The rest of the afternoon he'd spent polishing his broom, as sleet started to fall outside.
Patricia Potter didn't join her husband and son for dinner. It was a quiet affair; they sat and ate - Andrew Potter slowly; James gulping down enormous bites.
Eventually, his father spoke.
'You need to talk to your mother, son.'
'I don't want to.'
'You hurt her, James.'
James's eyes flashed. 'Do you know what she did?'
'You owe her a chance to explain herself, at least.'
'I don't want excuses.'
'You're going to listen to her, regardless.' His father's eye had a steely glint, the kind that meant 'you had better do as I say'. Recklessly, James decided not to heed it this time.
'Give me a good reason.'
'You owe her that much respect, James!' Andrew Potter rarely raised his voice; James wondered that he didn't quail before it this time. Without noticing, he was on his feet, glaring in defiance at his father.
'No,' said a quiet voice. 'He doesn't.'
'Patricia, I thought you weren't hungry.'
'If he's not ready to accept me, then he's not.' She spoke to his father, but her eyes were on him, half hopeful, half disappointed. James felt his insides squirm. His mother turned around and walked out stiffly, as though on leaden legs.
And then, the doorbell rang.
A few minutes later, James found himself staring as a wet, shivering Sirius followed his mother into the room.
'H-hey, James,' said Sirius, through chattering teeth.
'Sit down, Sirius,' said Mrs Potter.
'I'll tell the house-elves to make him a warm bath,' said Mr Potter immediately.
James continued to stare at Sirius, dumbstruck. His best friend looked at him pleadingly.
'I couldn't think where to go - I was going to go to Andromeda, but I think she and her husband are away, and there's no one else -' Sirius's voice broke and he blinked furiously. After a few moments, he asked, 'Are you still mad?'
'I'm - surprised,' said James, finally finding his voice. 'What happened to you?'
'Ran away. I'm not staying another moment with - with them. I'm not taking anymore of their bigoted crap.' Sirius's chest was heaving with anger and frustration. 'I had to climb out the window; I haven't got anything, they locked away everything but my wand, and they'd have to kill me to take that from me. They were going to send me to Durmstrang, when I said I didn't believe in all that stuff - I won't believe in all that rubbish -'
'Oh, Sirius,' said Mrs Potter, cutting him off in the middle of his almost incoherent tirade She wrapped her arms around her son's best friend. 'You can stay here for as long as you want.'
James watched them, and something exploded in his chest. Sirius had done something awful; he was still trying to make up for it. But James's mother, knowing about everything that had happened, was willing to welcome him anyway.
Why shouldn't he forgive them both?
'James, would you take Sirius up and lend him a change of clothes? The house-elves are drawing a bath for him.' Mr Potter re-entered the room.
'C'mon,' said James. Sirius followed gratefully.
'Thanks, James - I really didn't know where to go, you know, and I hoped maybe you could forgive me for … you know …'
'S'all right, mate,' said James, clapping him on the back. He dug out a set of robes from his cupboard and chucked them at Sirius. 'Go get that bath now, you dog. You can tell me about everything when you've got your fleas washed away.'
With a grin, Sirius caught the clothes, and headed for the toilet.
James sensed his mother standing behind him.
'I'm ready to listen, Mum,' he said.
Midnight, December 31, 1975
Lily Evans watched the hands of the clock move into position.
Please let this fighting stop.
James Potter clinked his glass of champagne against his mother's and downed it in one gulp.
Please let me make things OK.
1976 arrived.