Prelude to Destiny

Epilogue

The Way They Came to Be

There is an antiquity to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a place where students play the two thousand year old sport of Quidditch, enjoy games of chess, wear traditional black robes with pointed hats, study Potions in a dungeon and Divination in a tower. There are secret passages and merpeople and house-elves.

But Hogwarts never claimed to offer perfection. The school only ever offered one thing, a piece of advice that was simultaneously a warning and a threat: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus-- never tickle the sleeping dragon.

With eyes as green as scales and hair as red as fire, everyone should have known to leave Lily Evans alone. She was not someone to trifle with, not someone to threaten, never someone to underestimate.

~*~*~

A thousand thoughts raced across Lily's mind as that green light came for her that Halloween night. She knew it was the end and she was terrified -- terrified of dying, terrified of leaving Harry to die, terrified of the threat that Voldemort still posed -- but more than that she was angry that she was to become yet another nameless, faceless dead Mudblood in the eyes of Voldemort.

In those few moments of time as the curse came toward her, if she had been able to, she would have told James that eight years with him was far too few. She would have apologized for being such a fool and not saying yes in fifth year. She would have told Sirius not to be an idiot, told him that chasing after and trying to kill Peter would accomplish nothing. She would have held Harry in her arms even as he struggled to get down and practice the walking he'd finally mastered. She would have told Petunia she understood the reason why she did not accept being their Secret Keeper, said that protecting Dudley was reason enough to say no. She would have done a hundred thousand things in that moment, if she'd had the choice.

But she had no choice. And so, in that moment, she did what she could: she died for her son.

With her lifeless eyes closed and her face contorted in anger, Voldemort stepped over her body to the oddly silent baby on the other side of the room. He did not understand that Mudblood or why she had willingly died in front of her son. Voldemort had thought she was stronger than that. All of the reports claimed that she was. No matter. She was dead. He raised his wand at the green-eyed baby who was struggling to stand and toddle to his mother.

"Muma?" the baby said, reaching his her.

"Avada," began Voldemort as the child grinned as he grabbed a piece of his mother's hair, the hair she always before pulled out of his grasp. "Kedavra."

As soon as the green light escaped his wand, Voldemort knew there was something wrong. It was growing. Growing and coming closer.

In that last moment, if he'd had a choice, Voldemort would have picked up that child and thrown him into a wall. He would have beaten the woman's body beyond recognition. He would have slit Pettigrew's throat and cursed his loyal Death Eaters for failing to kill these Potters, for forcing him to do the job himself. But he had no choice.

And so, in that moment, he did the only thing Lily Potter would let him do: he vanished.

As the house crumbled away from the force of the spell, Harry Potter sat playing with his mother's hair. That is, until the first wall crumbled. Then the loud noise scared him and he cried. But his mother's arms did not wrap around him. His father did not come to him with a bottle. Instead, this child of one year and three months cried, alone, for the first (though not nearly the last) time.

Would Lily Potter have been proud of the sacrifice she made? It's impossible to tell, but I suspect the answer would be no. She would be grateful beyond measure that Harry survived, but she would have felt angry that Voldemort had not been destroyed, that he only vanished. She would have been angry that her son still had to grow up and face an enemy at eleven years old that she should have been there to protect him from.

And she would have been heartbroken to see his cry go uncomforted for thirteen years, until he found Sirius Black as she had found had found Sirius: in completely random circumstances. She would have liked to see Mrs. Weasley take her son in and care for him and hug him, but still felt that she should have been there. And of Petunia? Lily would have wept bitter tears for the relationship she should have salvaged.

Like her son, Lily would not have seen the thirteen years of peace that came from her death. She would only see the suffering it caused, suffering she thought she could have stopped.

But this is neither here nor there, for Lily Potter died the night of 31 October 1981. She died too young, too beautiful, too promising, too loving, and too everything she never thought she was.

~*~*~

But you knew the moment this story began how it was destined to end, how every story from this era ended: with a bite from a werewolf; a fall behind a veil; betrayal of a brother; a heroic last stand with a straight back; Unforgivable attacks after they thoughts they were safe; a room in St. Mungo's with too many gum wrappers to count; or death, accepted, to save a son. Yet you crossed time, went through a concrete post, onto a legendary train, and waited out the ride in a small, old-fashioned compartment. You rode a horseless carriage up to a castle that appeared to most to be nothing more than rubble. And you found Hogwarts.

Not the Hogwarts of Harry Potter, which seems suspiciously lacking in laughter, but rather you found the Hogwarts of Lily Evans. No, it was never the Hogwarts of James Potter. Not even the Hogwarts of the Marauders. It was hers, and she ruled the hearts of students and staff with an easy, self-deprecating smile and an honest aversion to compliments. She laughed when jokes were funny; thought every mistake was forgivable, recognizable, and easily forgotten; started a Friendship Appreciation Day in her sixth year and when she was fifteen she fell in love with a boy that earned her love at seventeen.

You came not to watch the ending you knew, but to see the beginning unfold.

~*~*~

"I need you to move," Lily said, walking into Petunia's door, into her life and her home and her happily ever after. Petunia stiffened and straightened. She had thought her peculiar sister was out of her life for good.

"Excuse me?" Petunia asked, scornfully noting the mud her sister dragged all over her clean carpet.

"I need you to move," Lily repeated. "You need to run away and never mention my name again. Tell Vernon anything you want. Tell him your hatred grew out of control, that you don't want my name ever spoken again. Just don't let anyone know about your sister Lily."

"Calm down."

"No. Don't let your neighbours even suspect that you have a sister. Don't mention the name Potter. Or magic. Don't mention magic ever."

"Lily, explain yourself or leave."

"I talked to a powerful wizard," Lily continued, not truly explaining. "He'll contact you, give you information. He'll probably even set up a home and a job for Vernon."

"Why would I want to move?"

"I know you, Petunia," Lily said, taking her hands in hers. "You've read the Prophet. You know what's happening in my world."

"So it's your world now," snapped Petunia, not daring to admit that she read that paper.

Lily shook her head. "I didn't want it to be. I thought I could be in both worlds, but I can't. Not any more. I have to choose. And I have to keep you safe."

"What do you mean keep me safe?" Petunia asked, stepping away from her sister with her hand over her pregnant belly.

"I mean keep you as far away from magic as possible," Lily replied. "Take down my pictures. Don't talk about me. Don't tell anyone, no matter who they are, that you know anything about wizards or Muggles or Voldemort."

"Why?" Petunia asked, not bothering to mention that she had already taken down her freakish sister's pictures. "What's happened?"

What hadn't happened? Tracy left the country to avoid the war. Sam invited suspected Death Eaters to her arranged marriage wedding and so Christine quit speaking to her. Christine and Matt married and she was pregnant now too, but they were in hiding after the attack on the McGrath home a few blocks from where Lily's parents used to live. Sirius was in the hospital in danger of losing his arm after that strike three nights before. Remus had been captured and found the day after the Full Moon beside his dead fiancé with no memory of what happened. Peter had developed a nervous twitch after his flat was attacked. And James and she were told there was a betrayer among their friends. A Judas. And they had no way of knowing who it could be.

"He's begun killing families," Lily said, deciding to be short.

Lily's words hung between them, death, like the unborn children they each carried but did not mention.

"Families?" Petunia repeated.

"Muggle relations of wizards and witches," Lily said, her eyes locked on her sister.

"Me?"

"And Vernon," Lily said. "He would torture you for your connection to me."

"Then why do you have to be a witch?" spat Petunia, anger making her say the things she never wished to say, making her push away a world she did not understand, although it was her sole connection to her sister.

"I can't help it."

"You can," Petunia replied, standing. "If I should run, then you should run too. Come back to the normal world."

"I can't," Lily said, not even bothering to tell her sister how irritated she was by the use of the word 'normal.'

"Why not?" Petunia demanded.

But Lily could not answer that question with words. Yes, she remembered the countless dead and tortured, the fear that ate away at her every day and led her to her sister's house. And yes, it would seem easy to run and pretend that this war never happened, live with her sister in a quaint part of a town that knew nothing of true evil, hurt, or pain. It would be easy to run from the Unforgivables and find herself raising a child with James and without danger. Or, at least, it would have been easy for anyone else. But for Lily, it would never be possible.

"They need me," Lily said.

"They don't," Petunia returned. "Do they think that you are going to destroy all of those-- those Death Eaters? You can't. You're just one woman. Let those people handle their own problems."

"I am one of those people."

"Don't be," Petunia said through a sob. "Please don't be."

"I already am. I may not be a hero, but I am one more brick in a wall holding back destruction, and they need every brick they can get."

"If you die, I will not mourn you," Petunia spat, though tears ran down her face. "I won't care. I promise you. You have a choice and you are choosing death."

"Maybe," Lily admitted, hurt and angered and feeling empty after her sister's words, "but for you, I would choose life."

"How am I supposed to survive if you can't?" And a sob broke her final world.

"Run," Lily repeated, her own tears nipping at the side of her eyes as a dull, throbbing pain began in her left temple. "Do as the letter instructs. Move where he tells you. Take down my pictures. Make no mention of me."

"My son will never know you," Petunia said. "I will never speak of you again. Not ever."

"But my son may know you," Lily returned.

"Not if you die."

"Especially if I die. I asked that you be the one to raise him if Sirius can't--"

"No. No. I won't."

"You won't?"

"If I choose to run, I won't take in a child that would put my family back in danger."

"Petunia," Lily said, her voice raw with emotion as her aching throat barely let the words pass through, "I trust no one else to do it."

"Because they may join him?"

"Because they may be dead then too."

Petunia staggered backward, shaking her head. "If I were to take in your child, I wouldn't let him be magical. I'd keep him from that world."

"If this were to happen," Lily said, "it would mean his godfather had died along with James and me. Promise me you would answer his questions."

"You're acting as if your death is inevitable."

"Promise me."

"How do you even know that he'd survive? If you were dead, wouldn't he be dead too?"

"Promise me!" bellowed Lily, refusing to have heard that question come out of her sister's mouth, refusing to listen to the truth of it.

"I promise. If this happens, I'll answer any questions he might ask."

"Thank you."

"I'll leave as soon as the letter arrives," Petunia replied, averting her eyes.

"You will?"

"I'll bring no pictures of you. I'll not mention my maiden name or the name of your husband. As far as I'm concerned, when you leave this place, you'll be dead to me." The words hurt them both. They were an admission of the end: the end of Lily and Petunia, the end of the magical world in Petunia's life, the end of Petunia in Lily's life. The end.

"And my son?" Lily asked.

"I'd take the boy in. But make no mistake, I would let no one know he was a wizard. I'd keep him from that death trap. He'd know nothing of magic. Ever. He'd be normal, like Vernon and me, unlike you."

And Lily heard what her sister refused to say: Petunia cared about Lily. She cared enough to move, to lie, to hide, and to pretend. She cared enough to want to save Lily's son.

What Lily did not know was that after Albus Dumbledore moved the Dursleys to a safe, warded neighbourhood and Vernon into a secure, steady job, Petunia wrote a scornful letter, asking for information about her sister, and Dumbledore responded. He told her they were going into hiding, told her that they wanted her to be their Secret Keeper, told her they understood why she said no. He told her that why they were targeted and asked that she stop writing. And she agreed.

And so, when Petunia opened her door on the first of November 1981 and found little Harry Potter clutching a letter in Dumbledore's writing, she knew what it must mean and she screamed out her horror. But when she read the letter, knowing that her house would keep this child alive, she scornfully agreed to protect him the way her sister refused to.

He was famous in his world, so Petunia made quite sure no pictures of him were ever published in the local newspaper, never mounted on her wall. She entered him in no contests and refused to let the schools give him awards. She kept the boy in a cupboard under the stairs and did not mention his name to anyone, lest they recognize it and try to bring the boy back into that death-filled world and put her own family in danger again. She called him boy at all times, in the house and out, to ensure that no one knew his name.

If a wizard happened into her house, he would never know that another boy even lived there, let alone suspect that Petunia was Lily Potter's sister, Lily Evans, who was as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. She tried to beat, yell, and terrorize the boy's dangerous freakishness out of him.

But in the end, the boy was just as stupid and stubborn as her sister. He refused her help, even tried to run away right after his godfather escaped that prison. She knew the moment she saw the news who he was, that Sirius Black. She remembered him from her wedding and from Dumbledore's letter. She knew he would come for the boy.

When they moved to Privet Drive, Dumbledore assured her that no one of ill intent could come near her home. He said no one even knew where she lived, but Petunia knew her foolish brother-in-law would have told his best friend. And she peered out her window almost constantly that summer, fear giving her worry lines. She feared for her life, for Dudley's, for Vernon's.

Petunia had told her sister that she would cut all ties to her if it meant saving Dudley, but the boy remained, because Petunia had made a very simple promise.

It is a funny thing, a sister's love. It is a given -- though sometimes unwillingly -- and a burden. It protects nephews and endangers sons. It tore at Petunia's heart for a decade before the boy left, and then it was the reason she asked him into her home over the summer holidays. But it ensured no love for the boy, the boy she bought no gifts for and made sure not to encourage, for fear of supporting his freakish ways, the boy who was the reason for her sister's death and her family's danger. Still, the lingering memory of a promise to Lily kept him in her home as she tried to make him stop asking the questions she was magically bound to answer (if not necessarily in a truthful manner).

~*~*~

You came to discover the answer to questions you could not voice: Who was Lily Evans? Why did she sacrifice herself? What made her different? What made her special? Who were the Marauders? What made their year so amazing? So different? So powerful?

~*~*~

On April 1^st, 1976 Lily Evans and James Potter both agreed that they had pulled a coup: they married. Lily chose the date, knowing that Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin would undoubtedly have set off fireworks in the middle of a ceremony if precautions weren't taken. Needless to say, there was a lot of Marauder grumbling about the date, April Fool's Day, the one day, as eleven years olds, on which they had pledged to never prank.

It was a strange wedding, nonetheless, filled with happy faces that never got the chance to see the bruise that Lily's dress hid-- the bruise that a Death Eater had given her two weeks before as she and James had, through sheer, ridiculous luck, managed to escape an attack.

It was also an amazing wedding: friends and family came; the ceremony was beautiful; their mothers cried; a picture was taken with the entire wedding party laughing; everyone went to the reception; Sirius gave a speech crediting himself with forcing Lily and James together; and too much cake was eaten. But mostly, it was amazing for Lily because it was the beginning of her life with James, and dancing in his arms at their reception, Lily doubted she could ever be happier.

"Can the best man cut in?" Sirius asked, tapping James on the shoulder. James and Lily stopped dancing, but James didn't unwrap his arms from around her.

"I don't know about that," James said. Lily smiled. "I wouldn't want her to go back to her old boyfriend tonight of all nights."

"Sputnik thinks he's funny," Sirius said to Lily, rolling his eyes. She offered a hand to Sirius.

"I blame you, Sirius, always laughing at his jokes in school," Lily said, kissing James quickly and stepping away from her smiling husband and into Sirius's arms.

"So you're choosing Sirius after all," James said, shaking his head with mock-sadness.

"He's a better dancer," Lily said, shrugging. Neither could keep the grins off their faces through this teasing. They were married. Married. It was amazing. Fabulous. Perfect.

"James, can I steal a dance?" Tracy asked, coming up from behind the group. James threw his arm around her shoulders.

"Someone likes me," James bragged.

"Too bad it's not the woman you just married," Sirius said, placing a hand on Lily's back and leading her away from the center of the dance floor.

"Hey, I like him well enough," Lily told Sirius as she placed her right hand on his shoulder and clasped her right hand in his as they began to dance around the floor. "He's the reason I have my cat."

"Then he is good for something, isn't he?" Sirius asked. The pair spun in circles and, despite anything he might say or do to pretend to the contrary, Sirius Black was an excellent dancer.

"That was a wonderful speech you gave," Lily said.

"Are you being sarcastic or honest?"

"Half and half."

"Good."

Lily looked up at one of her closest friends. "You dance with McGonagall yet?"

"She's here?" Sirius asked, his eyes lighting up and his already large smile growing.

"Yes, I think she's in the far corner at that moment, chatting with Sam," Lily said. Sirius twirled her out. She spun back into his arm and asked, "How's Claire doing? Isn't your two-month anniversary coming up soon?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes. She's fine. She really likes your father. They've been chatting about something Muggle all night."

"If you break up my parents at my wedding, our friendship may hurt a little," Lily joked.

"Then I can't take your mum home with me?" Sirius teased, smirking.

"Ew," Lily said. "Ew. Ew. Ew."

Sirius smiled and looked self-congratulatory as he maneuvered them past two other dancing couples into the middle of the dance floor. Lily saw a friend sitting at one of the tables, drinking champagne with that ever-present perfect posture.

"I was happy to see that Gertrude made it. I didn't think she'd come," Lily admitted. "It's pretty public."

"She works with you," Sirius reasoned.

"True." There was a prolonged silence.

"I'm so happy for James," Sirius said.

"Not for me?" Lily asked, her smile still in place. It hadn't left her face all day, in fact. Apparently, weddings were similar to powerful Cheering Charms.

"For you too, but mostly for James. He landed the best of the lot," Sirius said, looking down fondly at Lily, a smile of approval on his face. "You're a bit on the scrawny side and you're definitely mouthy, but overall, you're a fun person. Yes, I definitely approve of you for James. I just feel sorry for you as you're stuck with that clod James."

Lily laughed, knowing the devotion and love Sirius held for James, knowing that Sirius thought no one better than James. They were more than best friends; they were brothers. For Sirius--who was and always had been so guarded--to approve of Lily for James, even slightly, meant the world to her. It meant he trusted her, at least to a degree, at least with his best friend's heart.

She and Sirius could laugh about anything. They did laugh about anything, but more than that, Lily found comfort in her bear-like friend. He calmed her down, even though he was never calm. Talking to him was the most relaxing experience in the world. Sitting by him made her day. He was her best friend, really.

"Thanks for coming to the hospital, by the way," Lily said, looking up at him and talking about the aftermath of the attack two weeks before when James had been sequestered and she had needed a friend desperately.

"Of course," Sirius said. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"I don't know if I could've made it through that night without you," Lily said.

"You could've," Sirius said, looking over her head. "You've always been the strong one."

"No," Lily said, shaking her head and staring at his shoulder. "Sitting there, healed but not allowed to go in and see James--I wouldn't have be able to sit there without you. I'd have gone crazy. If anything had happened to him--"

"It didn't. It won't," Sirius said, giving her a sharp look. Lily nodded.

"I'd die without him."

"On our list of things not to talk about, that's pretty much number one," Sirius said. Lily looked up at him. "It's your wedding. Be happy."

"I am happy," Lily said, smiling as she saw James dip Tracy into her grandmother. "He's my life."

"Lily," Sirius said, "if anything happened to James--and it won't--then you have to make sure that nothing happens to you."

Lily looked up at him, confused. "What?"

"You and James are like a unit," Sirius said. "But I couldn't deal with losing both of you. He's my brother, and you're like my sister."

"And I'm your secret best friend forever," Lily pointed out, trying to lighten the mood as she felt close to tears with the amount of information Sirius was sharing with her, the amount of himself he was sharing.

"Forever," Sirius said, smiling down at her in that approving way again.

"I hope you come over and visit us as much as you can," Lily said.

"You'll regret saying that within the month," Remus said, walking up to the pair of them.

"More like the week," Peter amended, standing beside him. They really did travel in a pack, didn't they?

"I'm sure you'll abuse the privilege, but it'd be nice to see you lot as often as you like," Lily said. "I'm not saying I'll cook for you or anything, but you lot can stay until I kick you out."

"It's an invitation for all of us," Peter said, wiping a fake tear from his eye as he looked at Remus. "Isn't that adorable?"

"Are you harassing my fiancé--oh, wait, right. My wife. Wow. That's odd to say," James said, placing a hand on both Peter's and Remus's shoulder.

"Good odd or bad odd?" Sirius asked. Lily flicked him. Stupid question.

"I haven't decided yet," James said. Lily flicked him then, too. Stupid answer.

"Quite the charmer, isn't he?" Lily asked.

"I don't have to charm you any more," James replied, smirking as he reached out to grab the hand that flicked him. "You already married me. It's all down hill from here."

"Yep," said Sirius, Peter, and Remus together, nodding. Lily laughed and told them to go eat a piece of cake. James told them to bugger off, and soon she was back where she belonged, where she had been since she was seventeen: with James Potter.

~*~*~

You wanted to learn more about the generation "before": before the war, before the breaking of brothers, before the Order, before the remarkable sacrifice. You could not believe that Lily and James were ever simply children, called to learn at Hogwarts by an owl-delivered letter at eleven like everyone else. You could not believe that they were actually quite normal: they were eleven and scared, twelve and growing, thirteen and nervous, fourteen and awkward, fifteen and cocky, sixteen and learning, seventeen and too old. Well, they were normal but for their exceptional ability to laugh until they hurt, and then laugh because they hurt.

~*~*~

James's house never failed to impress Lily. Ever. She would walk into those grand doors and stare around and wonder how many of these priceless pieces of art James had managed to destroy as a boy. But at the moment she wasn't looking at the frescos or vases. Instead, she was staring at a ball of fur circling her left ankle. When she asked what it was doing, James promptly replied that it was her cat.

"What do you mean 'my cat'?" Lily asked.

"It's yours," James replied, leaning down, picking it up, and holding it out for Lily to take.

"Did you buy it for me?" Lily asked, looking shrewdly at the thing without reaching out to take it.

"No," James replied, stepping closer and placing the cat against her. "They just come."

"From nowhere?" Lily asked, instinctively raising her arms to prevent the car from falling in case James was a prat and let go of it.

"From somewhere." The cat was in her arms now, and despite herself Lily thought the little devil-thing was adorable. Frick. She hated cats.

"From where?" Lily asked again.

"Just--"

"Lily has a cat?" Sirius interrupted, coming back from the kitchen with a roll.

"No. Lily doesn't have a cat. The cat appeared out of nowhere," Lily protested, lifting the thing up to her eye-level and nearly shrieking when it began struggling to get closer and scratch her nose.

"So you're getting married, then?" Sirius asked, shoving the rest of his roll into his mouth and taking the cat out of Lily's outstretched arms, holding it in the crook of his arm.

"What?" Lily asked.

"You idiot," James muttered, glaring at his friend. The cat seemed to adore Sirius, but Lily was thinking more of what that big, fool of friend had just said.

"Haven't you asked her yet?" Sirius asked, petting the thing.

"No," James replied, looking ready to curse Sirius.

"You were--you're going to--" Lily stopped trying to speak, took a deep breath, and walked over to one of the many chairs at the dining table, sitting down on it and putting her head between her knees.

"Lily?" James's voice was entirely too close. Entirely. Lily opened one eye and raised her head a fraction off her knees to see him kneeling beside her, looking concerned. She closed her eyes again.

"I feel vaguely ill," she muttered.

"Well, that's not exactly how I pictured this going," James said.

"Pictured what going?" Lily asked, sitting up and staring at him. Yes, playing dumb would work for the moment.

"This whole proposing thing," James said, pulling a jewelry box out of his pocket, only to put it back in a moment later. "I was going to-- But--"

"But? But what?" Lily insisted, agitated. James looked slightly amused.

"Don't worry, I won't ask you if the idea make you feel vaguely ill."

"Wait. Why not?" said Lily.

"Why not what?" James looked so confused. Fool.

"Well, you were--you were going to ask me to marry you, weren't you?" Lily asked, swallowing her nervousness.

"I was, but if you don't want to--"

"Of course I want you to ask me," Lily cut him off. "Of course I do. I love you. I'm in love with you. Don't retract your proposal just because I feel a little ill and you botched the asking and Sirius botched the surprise."

"So you want me to ask you?" James asked.

"I already have the cat, don't I? Why not have the ring?" Lily asked, smiling at her own weak attempt at humor and feeling a little less nervous, a little more like jumping up and down shrieking with joy. James was asking her to marry him!

"Exactly!" Sirius said across the room.

"Really not the time, Sirius," James and Lily called out together. But then James turned back to Lily, his eyes so intense that she blushed just to meet them, and their joking ended.

"So then you will?" he asked, putting his hand in his pocket.

"I will what?" Lily asked, holding back a smile. Maybe all the joking wasn't completely ended.

"Marry me?" James said. Oh those words made the butterflies in her stomach sing.

"Marry you what?" Lily asked, her voice shaking despite her best efforts. James took her hands in his, smiling now too.

"Will you marry me?"

"Are you asking me or were you talking to Sirius because--" But James's lips cut Lily off as he leaned in and captured her mouth. He pressed against her hard, causing her to lean back in the chair and be practically squashed by him. She loved it. When he drew away, Lily's smile and blush remained.

"Yes," Lily whispered, staring at him. "Yes, I'll marry you."

"Now, when you say you'll marry me, do you mean me or Sirius, because there may be some confusion," James joked. Lily smirked at him and leaned in to kiss him, wrapping her arms around him and standing up. He wrapped his arm around her middle and stood, lifting her off the ground. When he set her back down, she tried to catch her breath as she met his intense stare.

"You," Lily said. "I want to marry you."

"Of course you do," Sirius chimed in. "You already have the cat."

"Oh shut it. I'm sure you have a cat," Lily said, no malice in her voice, with a smile so big her face almost hurt. She was marrying James! She leaned in to kiss James again, taking the front of his shirt in her hands and pulling him down.

"Nope," Sirius said loudly, breaking through the delirious haze of happiness that was working to consume Lily. "They're only for members of the family."

Well, Lily pulled out of her kiss with James and looked at him, then Sirius, then the cat in his arms. "What do you mean they're only for family?"

"They're only for family," Sirius repeated.

"Thanks, Mr. Cryptic." She turned to James. "How did the cat know?"

"They're very, very smart cats." And his lips would not let her talk anymore.

~*~*~

These people chose what was right, not what was easy: they stayed to fight instead of running; they broke away from family tradition; they, despite the deaths around them and the offers of asylum in Voldemort's forces, chose to fight him, chose to marry, chose to have children, chose to live.

~*~*~

Lily nervously knocked on the door to the Headmaster's office, holding the crumpled letter in her hand.

"Come in, Miss Evans," said Professor Dumbledore. Lily pushed the door open and found not just Professor Dumbledore but also a man and a woman seated across from him. They all stood when she entered.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Lily said, glancing at the guests. Hadn't her letter said to arrive immediately after breakfast?

"You're not interrupting, Miss Evans," the headmaster said, gesturing with his hand for Lily to come farther into the room and sit in a chair opposite his desk. She took a few more steps inside, but did not sit down. "These visitors are here to see you."

"Me?" Lily asked, looking first at Dumbledore and then the two people standing in front of her.

"Yes," said the man, stepping forward and offering his hand. "My name is Edmund Clark and this is Amelia Allen. You must be the Head Girl, Lily Evans."

Lily shook his hand and then the woman's proffered one. "Yes, I am. How do you do?"

"It's nice to meet you," Edmund Clark said. "Let's sit.

And so they sat, Lily confused but relieved. She'd imagined the reason for this visit to be anything from Dumbledore stripping her of her Head Girl badge to a notification of a death in the family. Two people meeting with her seemed much less intimidating than either of those options.

"We're here to offer you a job," Edmund said. Lily looked at him, shocked.

"I only sent out my applications yesterday," Lily said, wondering which company these people could be from. She hadn't expected responses until June at the earliest. It was hardly May.

"No, Miss Evans," Edmund said. "You misunderstand. We're not offering you the sort of job people apply for. We're offering you a place as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries."

"A what in the where?" Lily asked, wanting to laugh. Magical people seemed to have a lot of fun creating names for things like books and jobs.

"An Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic," Mr. Clark reiterated. Oh, thanks for the clarification, Lily thought.

"What sort of work does the Department of Mysteries do?" Lily asked.

"We can't tell you," Edmund replied. Ha! Okay. So that was the 'mystery' part.

"What would I be doing?" Lily asked.

"We can't tell you," Edmund said. Was he joking?

"Could I guess and you could tell me if I was right or not?" Lily joked.

"No," Edmund said.

"Okay, who would I work with?" Lily asked, realizing that he was neither joking about this nor did he have a sense of humor about it.

"We can't tell you," he said. This was some sort of joke. Lily looked at Dumbledore to find him popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth. Good grief.

"Is there anything you could tell me?" Lily asked.

"Very little," Edmund admitted.

"If I took the job could I find out what I would be doing?" Lily asked, a bit sarcastically.

"Yes," Edmund said. "Though, if you ever left the job your memory would be obliviated."

"All right," Lily said, barely keeping herself from leaving right then. These people were crazy: asking her to accept a job they could not describe for an amount of money they wouldn't disclose, one which would cost Lily her memory if she chose to leave it. Right. Sure. She would definitely consider that job.

"Perhaps, Edmund, you ought to explain how you came to offer Miss Evans this position," Professor Dumbledore suggested. Lily looked over at him to see him still fiddling around with his candy. Curious.

"We heard about your work with wands and dissecting the charms inlaid in them," Edmund said. "In particular, we were interested in your use of the Tempus Cinqueso Charm on late model wands to study the way aging affects wands and the relationship between the wand and wizard or witch."

"Wait," Lily said, "I only began working on that aspect of my seventh year project a few months ago. I haven't even had time to talk with Professor Flitwick about that."

"Nor have you had time to discuss the spell you created last week to study the relationship of time and wands," Miss Allen said, speaking up for the first time. Old as she was, her creaking voice still surprised Lily with its age.

"Excuse me?" Lily asked. "How do you know about that?"

"The Department of Catalogs, specifically the New Spells, Curses, Potions, and More Branch, automatically logs the use of a new spell and its function," Edmund said, taking charge again.

"And what? That department sends a copy of the registry to the Department of Mysteries?" Lily asked skeptically.

"We can't discuss that," Edmund said. If this meeting hadn't been taking place in Dumbledore's office, Lily might have suspected it to be one of Sirius's pranks. At least she was missing no class for this ridiculous meeting.

"My spell interested you?" Lily asked, trying to sidestepped the annoying 'no talking' policy of theirs.

"We--"

"Can't discuss that, I get it," Lily muttered, interrupting him, vaguely reminded of her conversation with that Ministry Official after the Ball, the one who couldn't tell her how Christian or Mrs. Crouch were. It was just as irritating over a year later.

"I am at liberty to tell you that I would like to work with you, Miss. Evans," Amelia Allen said.

"Well, thank you," Lily said, looking over at the white haired, wrinkled woman and feeling disbelief at her words. Why would she want to work with Lily?

"You don't seem to be taking this very seriously," Ms Allen noted.

"It's a little difficult to take seriously," Lily admitted, "when you can't tell me what I would be doing, what the department does, who I'd be work with, why you'd ever want to work with me, or even how you heard about me. Plus, for my working title to be an Unspeakable seems ridiculous."

"I understand," Ms Allen said, nodding, "but where there is a will, there is a loophole."

"Excuse me?" Lily asked. Ms. Allen didn't reply, merely levitated a mirror to Lily, who instinctively grabbed it.

"We don't study conventional magic, Miss Evans," Amelia Allen said, waving her wand and muttering an incantation Lily couldn't hear, but Lily could see the reaction: the mirror seemed to turn on like a telly. Lily felt more than a bit like Snow White.

The words Areas of Focus faded onto and then off of the mirror, followed by a series of pictures with words on top: what looked like a lot of brains in a small pool and the word Thought; a black veil in the middle of a room Death; a seed growing into a plant and blooming and then shrinking back into itself until it was a seed Time; and just as quickly other pictures and images, including the one that really stayed with Lily which was a closed door with light glowing behind it Love.

The Department of Mysteries, Lily realized, dealt with real mysteries, things people could for work a thousand years deciphering, things neither Muggles nor magical folk could ever understand.

"Are you trying to harness the power of--"

"No," Ms Allen interrupted. "We are merely trying to understand these things as you are trying to understand time with your wand tests and invented spells."

"Why me?" Lily asked, disbelieving. If she could really make her life's work the study of love and death and time and thought--It would be incredible. Lily had never considered the idea, but the potential of it was overwhelming. "Why would you want me to work there?"

"Because I want to work with you," Amelia Allen answered. "You are young to be offered this position, but I need an assistant, someone with energy to spare."

"It is an opportunity many at the Ministry dream of," Mr. Clark added, "to be offered an Unspeakable position."

"But I don't know what I'll be working on," Lily said.

"Specifically, no," Ms Allen said, "but you have an idea, do you not?"

"I'll not be able to focus on anything I thought I wanted to study," Lily said, not particularly caring, but worried that she might be stuck in a confining job.

"As an Unspeakable you would be able to study anything," Amelia corrected her. "Everything connects through these eight doors. Everything."

Lily didn't really understand what that meant by the reference to doors, but didn't want to ask. Instead, she said, "I don't know anything about this Department."

"No one truly does," Ms Allen said.

"Could I tell my friends what I do?"

"Your title, yes. Your department, yes. Of your work you could tell them nothing."

"No one?" Lily asked, thinking unexpectedly of James and what this would mean for them. But more importantly, she thought about what it would mean if she could look into these disciplines. For her entire seventh year she had felt lost in limbo, flailing about trying to find something to focus on, something to want to do when she left school. She had applied to nearly every job that was not connected with the Ministry, and even a few that were. But the Department of Mysteries, something about it sounded right, like it fit. Vague as it was, it felt right.

And while it took a month's deliberation and a lot of discussions with James, in July Lily Evans became one of the youngest Unspeakables in history.

~*~*~

Lily Evans and James Potter were not perfect people. They lied and deceived. They put distance between their friends and them. Once, they accidentally almost blew up a prefect meeting. But they were good, fun people. To help a friend, he mastered a form of very complex transfiguration and she left her sister's wedding reception. They danced in the autumn leaves. They named their cats Truth and Dare.

No matter what else might be said about them, they loved life.

~*~*~

On the first day of October, Lily, still unused to going to class with her boyfriend, sat in her normal seat in the front row of Transfiguration and expected James to sit in his normal seat in the back row. That was how the last month had gone.

"Already trying to get rid of me?" James asked, eying Lily as she sat down. He was smirking.

Lily looked at him with a smile. "I didn't want to take Sirius's seat."

"Trust me, Sirius will sit by me no matter where I am," James replied, setting his bag on the desk beside Lily's and sitting next to her.

"It's that Moses thing you have going, right?" Lily asked, smiling. She was ridiculously happy with this arrangement. James was closer to her. Yes, that very much agreed with her.

"Exactly," James said, kissing her on the cheek. Just then, Sirius walked in.

"Hey now!" Sirius exclaimed, seeing the seating arrangement. "What's this?"

"I told him to sit by you," Lily told Sirius, leaning against James and taking his left hand in hers. He wrapped his right arm around her waist.

"Snitch," James muttered, kissing her ear. Lily shuddered and felt badly about doing this in a middle of the Transfiguration classroom. Sirius, not seeming too disturbed by this situation, put his bag beside Lily's and sat on her right side. She glanced at him.

"This desk is meant for two," Lily noted.

"Don't joke, Lily," Sirius replied, shaking his head at her. Lily smiled. She didn't mind.

Everyone did a double take coming into the class when they saw the three of them squashed into that desk, Lily and James disentangled, laughing with Sirius. Even McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Lily who shrugged back at her, as if to say she didn't know either, but both women were definitely smiling.

~*~*~

So now you have seen them, the last generation, turn from children into adults. You watched them find Destiny and Fate in the confines of Hogwarts and take them up as walking sticks to aid them in their long journeys into eternity.

As you leave the castle, leave the echoing corridors and the talking portraits who were the only witnesses to the love story of James Potter and Lily Evans, you think there is a moral to this ending and so you search for it. You think about it as you walk across the grass with bare feet, loving the crunching sound, loving those giant bubble-blowers in the distance, remembering patrols and the Game and F.A.D. and cats and proposals and first kisses and the great confusion of sixth year. You think back on everything you saw, from finding four friends in a room failing at transforming to four friends racing through the castles to the power of a single shield to finding a Slytherin prefect wandering the corridors. You think about the friends who look out for each other, of course, and realize how very lucky those people are to have found one another.

~*~*~

Night had fallen late, shrouding Hogwarts in a darkness that Lily Evans tried to get lost in. She hid behind a suit of armour in a far corner of the first floor, trying to breathe silently. Every part of her - from her left middle toe to her right shoulder blade - was poised to run at any moment. The first Game of the year had begun two hours ago and Lily had only just escaped a trap set by Tracy and Christine. She was now waiting to hear the telltale footsteps of Sam, Tracy, or Christine.

Lily readjusted her wand in her hand, the sweat making the menial task more difficult than it would otherwise have been. Actually, every part of her was damp with sweat (the night air, as it should be in on September 10^th, was stifling). Her robes, which she had charmed to blend in more easily with the dark walls, clung to her body.

Another minute ticked by. Then it happened: footsteps. They were even, calculated, like someone who was not worried about being caught.

Lily's heart beat three times faster. Those were the footsteps of a patrolling prefect. But shouldn't there have been two sets of steps? Lily held her breath. Being caught out after curfew the second week of school, her second week as Head Girl, was a horrifying possibility: she would have let down so many people.

The footsteps continued to move towards her. Closer and closer the feet came until finally Lily saw the light of their badge reflecting on the metal of the suit of armour. Then the person started whistling and Lily began to grin. She knew who was patrolling now. Standing behind that suit of armour, Lily readjusted herself, charmed the ground, and, just when the person came into view, she pounced.

"Student out of bounds," she called, launching herself at the patroller and tackling him, shoulder to the ground. Sweaty as she was, Lily did not move away from the person she had pinned beneath her. Instead, she grinned and said, "Hello, there."

"Student out of bounds indeed," James grunted, shifting to make himself more comfortable and wrapping his arms around her.

"You're not on patrol tonight, you know," Lily said mock-seriously, tingles spreading through her at their close proximity. It felt so good. "I should probably report you."

"You're not on patrol either," James noted, lifting his head off the ground to kiss her right cheek. Then her left. She crossed her arms over his chest and looked down at him, happy.

"Then we find ourselves in a catch-22, don't we? If I report you I'll get into trouble too and it's the same with you," Lily said, pecking him on the mouth quickly. "What are we going to do?"

"When does the Game end?" James asked, kissing her quickly too.

"About--" Lily kissed him a bit longer, relaxing her position so that her elbows were on either side of his head. "--twenty minutes."

"Want to cut out early?" he asked. Lily leaned in again and loved feeling his tongue run along her lower lip. Still, Lily shifted quickly so that she could see the rankings on her arm.

"Sure, I'll cut out early," Lily agreed, kissing him once more before rolling off him and standing up.

"You're in last, aren't you?" James asked, smirking as he sat up.

"Yep," Lily said, taking his hand and helping him stand up too.

"You're horrible at this Game, you know," James said, pulling her as close to him as possible. "Why do you keep playing it?"

"Haven't you heard?" Lily asked, smiling up at him as she twined her arms behind his neck and leaned in for another kiss. "I'm terribly stubborn."