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Harry Potter and The Beauty of Magic Chapter 1 (A Life to Live)
🕑 Added 2021-12-31 06:20:46 +0000 UTCHappy 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.
