Iuga Sortis III: The Beginning

Eight

Hands grasped her shoulders and began to knead the kinks out of them. She didn't know who was giving her the massage, nor lifted her head from her hands, but she purred in delight nonetheless. The past forty-eight hours had been a trial, wearing out her energy and resolve.

She lost a student two days ago--more than that, she lost a child. She'd come to think of Draco as one of her own, and to know one of her "babies" died in her care was more than she could take.

"My baby's gone," she whispered to no one in particular.

The hands on her shoulders stilled. Lips touched her cheek in an effort to comfort, and Jamilah turned to hug her comforter. Those hands rubbed along her back, trying to give any solace they could.

"I watched Voldemort shoot that curse . . . it was the most awful thing I'd ever seen!" Jamilah cried.

"Shhh, love."

Jamilah pulled away and wiped her tears. "That could've been Nia! My GOD! What would I have done if Malika's baby was killed? My grandbaby! If I'm this torn over Draco, I couldn't--"

She was gathered close again, and she cried more. Jamilah didn't want to think about the "what ifs." She thanked God and Merlin and whoever else she needed to thank for keeping Nia safe. She had wished all of them came back alive, but it wasn't to be. Draco didn't deserve the fate he met, and if she ever saw Pettigrew on the street, she'd kill him with her bare hands.

"We'll work through this together, love. You have Dumbledore . . . Snape . . me . . "

The "me" was said with such tenderness, and she closed her eyes. She never thought that he of all people would be helping her through the pain she felt. They'd grown closer over the course of the year, and admittedly it threw her for a loop.

"I'll get you some water, okay?"

Jamilah nodded, and he separated from her and exhaled a breath. Too much was happening too fast. Grandpa Albus was upstairs making sure Narcissa, Ginny, and Nia remained safe and, quite frankly, sane. Snape was back at the school to help the students deal with what happened on Halloween night. Remus was helping Shacklebolt and Tonks go over magical forensics, and Mrs. Weasley went back to the Burrow to fill in Bill, who was on assignment in Egypt for the Order. It was far too soon to be mourning the death of Draco. Hell, people were supposed to be weepin' and wailin' over her a good eighty years before even thinking about Draco's death.

But once again, she lost a child.

Jamilah told Dumbledore from the beginning she was too old for this, and with this death, she swallowed the urge to yell, "I told you so!" Intellectually she knew there was nothing she could've done--Draco was fighting with Pettigrew, and Voldemort caught him with a surprise attack. She was too far away to do anything about it and fought hard to control the rage she felt. Rage was a definite hindrance in fighting, and becoming reckless would have been the worst thing she could've done, especially then.

"If only there was some way to warn him! I could've stopped Voldemort . . saved his life . . ."

The glass appeared before her on the placemat, and she grasped it, rubbing her thumb against it idly.

"He was warned . . . Nia muttered out loud; she told him to watch out."

Jamilah continued to stare at the glass. "This was not supposed to happen! This was why the Hogsmeade trips were cancelled in the first place! How were those children even there for one of them to get killed!? Why wasn't I enough to prevent it from happening?"

An arm came behind her, and another held her chin. He turned her face to meet his.

"Look at me, love." Jamilah sighed and complied with his request. "You are a wonderful professor--competent, lively, compassionate, demanding. They couldn't have asked for a better professor if they built one themselves. The devotion you have to those kids is commendable, and all of them are better for having you as a professor. I've watched you train them, and I tell you, had they been under anyone else's tutelage, all of them would be dead--including Harry. Don't you dare beat yourself up over this; I won't let you."

Jamilah smiled in spite of herself. "That sounds familiar, that last line."

He smiled, distinguished crow's feet appearing at his eyes. "You wrote that to me in your letters . . . they helped me so much during that period in my life."

Jamilah looked at the glass. "And now you're here to return the favor?"

"It's karma, love--what goes around comes around."

She snorted. "When will Set and Voldemort ever get their comeuppance, hmm? Why do little boys and little girls have to die because of them? Why did my daughter! Draco! Why do they want my grandchild?"

Jamilah started sobbing again, and she was pulled into an embrace. She held onto him tightly, her tears wetting the crook of his neck. He whispered words of reassurance as she cried.

"I was afraid for you during the battle . . . I saw the look Voldemort and Pettigrew gave you. They recognized you, and I think Draco realized it. He diverted their attention away from you, and soon afterwards he fell. I don't think you realize how close you were to being--"

"But I'm not," Jamilah whispered.

"Thank the gods."

"But Draco is!"

"He knew what he was doing. His death will not be in vain. He saved many lives tonight--two of whom being you and Nia. I haven't been able to talk to her yet, but I will."

Jamilah chuckled. "I haven't been able to talk with her either. I haven't even seen her since then."

"Harry's taking good care of her."

She grinned. "He should. He loves that gal, just as Severus loved Malika." The arms tensed around her, and she cursed herself. "Aw Lawd, I'm sorr--"

"You're right, Jamilah," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. "He loved her very much. Too bad it took me almost twenty years to square with that."

"But, Sirius--"

"I could never compete with him; she always only saw me as a friend, even when we were dating. And if I'm completely honest with myself, that was all she ever was to me."

"No, it's not! I know how in love you were with my daughter . . ."

And yet you make me feel like a little schoolgirl!

"Then why does it feel so right when I hold you in my arms, love?"

Oh hell! I'm too old for this . . .

"Sirius Black, you stop this nonsense right now!" Jamilah admonished as she stood. She walked hurriedly out of the kitchen and went to the drawing room. She couldn't take this right now. Her mama used to say, "There's a sliver lining around every cloud," but this could not be her silver lining. The man was twenty years her junior! He was in love with her daughter! She was old enough to be his mother!

His mother! Good God, the woman was a horror and a half. Thank the good Lord I finally found a spell that would shut her up! Damn near drove me crazy . . . just like her son!

"Oh hell," she muttered.

It had started innocently enough. Malika couldn't contact him because she was supposed to be in hiding, so she asked her mother to do it. What started as a favor for her daughter soon became a favor for herself. She liked his letters, especially since she'd been living alone for the better part of ten years. She found Sirius to be witty, charming, and very smart, though a bit of a hothead. She'd heard the fondness with which Malika spoke of the young man, and the letters proved her daughter wasn't without merit. Of course Jamilah had her own qualms about the relationship, the main being Malika's staying in Britain. Jamilah knew it wouldn't do well for them to come back to South Carolina; interracial couples didn't go over too well with the folks in her town, and compound that with both of them having magic--it was a sure way to create some trouble.

"Well, he always was a troublemaker!" she smirked to herself. She sat down on the couch and put her face in her hands. It was clear he spent entirely too long of a time celibate, and he needed a woman fast.

Kind of hard to get any when you're on the run for a murder you didn't commit.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she immediately threw it out. That wasn't fair to Sirius, nor to herself, if she were honest. "What's the world comin' to? I can't be in lo--"

She refused to say it. Saying it would make it real, and one couldn't take back something said. But her mind would go back to the late night talks and the help he'd been giving her during the training, and it was hard not to feel the way she did about him. No one knew how close they'd got--not even Dumbledore, and that was a feat in and of itself. Here she was trying to get her granddaughter to confront her feelings for Harry, and she couldn't do the same for his godfather.

"Aw Lawd, what's happenin' to me?" she moaned.

"Magic."

Her head snapped up to see him leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Jamilah rolled her eyes and looked at her hands. This boy would be the death of her one day. "Maybe you should go find Harry. Although he pretends not to like Draco, he can't help but be impacted by his death."

"He's comforting Nia at the moment, I'm sure. Besides, I'm looking after you right now."

She sucked her teeth. "Chile, please! I'm a grown woman, twenty years older than you, and have lived by myself for a number of years. I can deal quite well."

"That doesn't mean you should."

Damn him for choosin' now to be logical!

"This is ridiculous."

"Why? Because I want to help you? Comfort you? Love you?"

She couldn't breathe. Her lungs flat-out refused to draw in air. He'd succeeded in taking her breath away, something that hadn't happened since she met Frank.

Lawd . . . I must have an affinity for men not my age!

Franklin Roberts was twelve years her senior, a World War II vet whom she met at a church function when she was sixteen. At first it was strictly platonic, but three years later they were married; three years after that, Malika was born.

Malika . .

"I am not my daughter."

"No, you are not," he conceded.

"I will not be a substitute for her," she said firmly.

"No, you won't be."

Jamilah chuckled and shook her head. "I'm too old for this!"

"You can never be too old for love," Sirius said. He pushed off the wall and walked slowly towards her. She diverted her eyes to her hands again, for his gaze was too penetrating. He sat down beside her and took one of her hands in his. His thumb traced the veins that appeared on the back of her hand before he kissed it.

Jamilah swallowed hard. "Whatcha doin' wit' my hand?"

"Admiring the hand that wrote those letters to me," he whispered.

Jamilah snorted. "I'm right-handed, you fool!"

He grinned at her and winked. "This hand had to help, right?"

She tried to remove it from his grip, but he wouldn't allow it. "Gimme my hand back," she demanded.

Sirius let go of it and grinned. "I guess I should; I never asked for it properly. Who would I see to accomplish that? Dumbledore?"

He took her breath away again, and this time her heart thudded in her chest. "Are you insane?"

He grinned at her hand as he lifted it again. "Maybe . . . maybe I am. But it took the death of James, Lily, and now Draco to realize people need to grab life by the horns. Tomorrow is not guaranteed; you never know who won't be around the next day, and you should do everything in your power to let them know how much they mean to you."

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I love you, Jamilah. I've been in love with you for years."

She had a headache. God and everyone else were playing a very mean joke on her at the moment, and she did not appreciate it. She met her love forty-one years ago--Sirius wasn't even born yet!--and now Fate was trying to tell her she was to find it again in the man her daughter dated? No, Jamilah did not appreciate this at all.

"There is no possible way in the world you could feel that way for me. A young man like yourself needs to find a young woman to share his life with."

"Why do you think I started ending my letters with 'Love, Sirius'?"

Jamilah often wondered that, but didn't allow herself to dwell on it. She chalked it up to being starved for human contact, and she was glad she could offer it. "I don't know," she said lamely.

"Remember I told you I was going to marry a Roberts woman?" he asked.

"I wrote you back and said Malika was already married to Snape, and expecting Nia no less," she reminded him.

"Yes, and what did I say?"

She was blushing. She hadn't blushed since she was in her twenties. "You said it didn't matter."

He held her chin and directed her face to his. "It didn't. I loved you. Still do, in fact."

Jamilah frowned. "Then why do you continuously bait Snape over Malika and the relationship you two had?"

Sirius laughed. "What better way to stick it to Snape than to remind him of the time when he lost to me? Malika is my ace, always has been."

Jamilah glared at Sirius. "I don't appreciate you using my baby as a pawn in your little juvenile game!"

"I'm sorry, love; I'll stop. Besides, I've got you."

She removed her chin from his fingers and sucked her teeth. "You ain't 'got' anything."

He shrugged. "Fine. Then let me put it this way--you have me."

She looked at him skeptically. "Did you use this line on my daughter?"

He grinned and shook his head. "No, I wanted to, though. But for some reason, I felt it wasn't the right time to say it."

"And then you were in Azkaban," she murmured.

"And you helped me through it. During my time there, I had a lot of time to think, and it was there I realized why it never worked between Malika and me. She was in love with Snape, whether I liked it or not. And I, I was to love you. Of course I treated it as a crush, and clearly I couldn't tell you. I was afraid you would stop writing the letters to me . . . that fear, along with my desire to kill Pettigrew, kept me from losing my mind in that hellhole."

"It could never work."

Sirius laughed heartily at the claim. "You look younger than I do, my dear, and don't act like you don't notice Shacklebolt making eyes at you from time to time."

She hadn't noticed, but she couldn't help but feel flattered. "He's a very attractive man. . . makes me wanna rub Vaseline all over that bald head o' his!"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he scowled.

"Oh? Well, let me say it in your ear, so you can hear me!" she teased as she came closer. Her lips never reached his ear, however; they met his lips instead. They were much thinner than Franklin's, and not as soft, but the kiss was very nice.

Too nice.

She sucked in a breath and pushed him away from her. "You shouldn't've done that."

His eyes were drawn to her lips as she licked the taste of him from them. "How do I taste?"

"You are impossible!"

Sirius smiled softly and cupped her cheek. "And you are beautiful. Your mother named you correctly."

Her mind was reeling. Never in a million years did she think this would happen to her. Some people couldn't find love once, let alone twice, and this young man was offering it to her on a silver platter. "I'm fifty-seven years old," she whispered.

He shrugged. "I'm thirty-seven. So what?"

She shook her head, and a tear fell down her cheek. "I can't. You deserve so much more than an old hag like me."

He snorted. "The only old hag in this house is my mother, whom you finally silenced with that brilliant mind of yours."

She chuckled. "Just doin' the world a favor."

He didn't respond. His eyes darted all along her face; she never felt more exposed in her life. "It was she who was the substitute."

Jamilah frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Earlier, when you talked about being a substitute . . . if anything, Malika was a substitute for you."

She was at a loss. How did one respond to a statement like that? On the one hand, she wanted to lambaste him for thinking her daughter wasn't good enough for him, but on the other hand, the reason why her daughter wasn't good enough was because her daughter wasn't her. It was a difficult thing to negotiate, so she didn't even try.

"Ookay!" she said finally as she shook her head. "You know what, Imma wake up from all of this and realize it was just a really interesting dream. I'll be back at Hogwarts, yellin' at Ginny and Draco to let go of each other, and, and this conversation never happened."

Her voice trailed off as she finished her statement, and her bottom lip began to tremble. She was back at square one again--mourning the loss of Draco. He'd been such a Godsend to Nia, and for that she was indebted to him. Then she got to know him--smart mouth and all--and loved him. He was one of the most misunderstood people at that school, and, to Jamilah, that was a damn shame. Underneath all that arrogance and pureblood talk was just a boy who wanted to be loved on his own terms.

He'll get a whole lot of it now! It was a bitter thought, and she knew it. If she learned anything over her almost sixty year existence, it was that people loved you a whole lot more once you were dead. This boy was entirely too young and too full of promise to be gone now. She was afraid how this would affect the girls especially. When Malika died, Jamilah was hard pressed to squeeze two consecutive words from Nia.

"She'll be fine," Sirius said, interrupting her thoughts. "Harry's there with her. He'll help her through this."

"You mean the same Harry who damn near chewed everyone's head off at your death?"

Sirius shrugged and grinned. "He doesn't like Draco as much."

"That's true, but isn't Halloween the anniversary of his parents' death?"

He heaved a sigh and glanced at her. "Maybe I should talk to him," he murmured. Jamilah nodded. "Do you know if Nia ever told him about their death?"

She shook her head. "And I'd hardly think now would be the time to do it. She's only fourteen years old, Sirius. Death is far too familiar to her."

"She and Harry . . Draco's a hero."

Jamilah laughed. "He'd hate being considered as such."

"Never thought I'd say this, but . . . I'm proud to call him my cousin--got the good Black genes in him."

"Thank the good Lord for that," she said wryly.

"Yes. We have a lot to be thankful for, love," he said softly.

"Hmmm . ." She was still hesitant. Even if she wanted to pursue something with Sirius, it would have to be put on hold now. They had to regroup, come up with different strategies since Draco was dead. None of the reincarnates should ever be that vulnerable again--especially Nia. Jamilah's focus would be on keeping them safe and giving them every advantage they could get. Her love life would have to wait--even if it took another twenty years.

Ugh! I'll be seventy-seven then, God willin'!

"Tell you what," he said, holding her hand again. "I won't speak of this--you and me--again until we get regrouped. We'll go back to being colleagues and nothing more. Once our operation is up and running again, I'll pursue you--flowers, candy, wine and dine--the whole nine. What do you say?"

She knew what she should say, but instead her mouth said, "Okay."

He gave her a smile that melted her heart as he kissed the back of her hand. "I'll be anxiously waiting until then, Mrs. Roberts."

She closed her eyes and bit her lip; letting his words wash over her. Lord help me, so will I . . .

~~~~~~

Blurry vision greeted him as he opened his eyes. It was a bright day, and he felt strangely at peace. A hand was rubbing his cheek, and he looked to the owner of it. Her hair was lighter than he remembered, but it was still red and beautiful--just as she was.

"Ginny," he muttered, then pulled her to him, kissing her lips hard. Oddly, however, she was pushing against him, and in his shock, he let her go. There was giggling coming from his right, and he followed the sound, seeing her covering her mouth as she laughed.

"What's so funny, Nia?" he asked, a bit disgruntled.

She tilted her chin to the other woman. "I just think it's funny you kissed your arch-nemesis' mother."

Huh? He sat up quickly and looked at "Ginny" in horror. The hair was red, yes, but the eyes were not the warm brown he loved. Instead they were green.

Just as Harry Potter's were.

"Lord have mercy," he muttered in disbelief.

"Nia" smirked. "I see my daughter's rubbed off on you."

His head snapped to the other woman, who, by all accounts, was his Nia, except her hair was coarser and she had acne marks along her cheeks. Ironically, those marks only served to enhance her beauty, instead of detract from it. This is not right! Where the hell am I?!

"Actually, you're in the Elysian Fields."

"Isn't that Greek mythology?" he asked absently, unaware she'd answered a thought inside his head.

"Nia" and "Ginny" looked at each other, clearly impressed. "Very good, Draco. You've obviously been studying. Honestly, this is a part of your underworld. Paradise for the good souls sent to you; the virtuous come here. Oddly enough, not talked about in Egyptian lore."

He frowned and shook his head. "Why am I here? And why are you here with me?"

"If you'd like us to leave, we can certainly oblige you," "Ginny" said as she stood.

He was overwhelmed, realization finally settling over him. They'd all but said who they were, and he'd figured it out long before then, but he refused to give voice to his thought. "You're dead," he whispered.

"Right. And so are you. Funny how things happen like that," "Nia" said.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Nope, this is 'heaven' as you see it. If you want hell, you should've not saved my daughter and the rest of the wizarding world. In fact, you shouldn't've been Draco Malfoy as he was, and instead turned into Lucius Malfoy, Jr. The sick bastard," "Nia" seethed.

He knew there was no use in beating around the bush anymore. "Mrs. Potter, Mrs. Roberts--"

"Ew!"

"No!"

Draco sat back in alarm. "I'm sorry! What did I do?"

"Mrs. Potter was my mother-in-law--"

"And Mrs. Roberts is my mama. We won't be goin' there. You call her Aunt Lily and call me Mama Malika. We're your guides for now."

It was clear he was dead, or in a hallucinogenic dream, for this was insane. But then again, he couldn't be dead . . . could he?

"I want to see Ginny and Nia . . . and my mummy," he said in a small voice.

Lily and Malika looked at him sympathetically. "You can't see them the way you want, Draco. You died in battle," Lily said.

"Yes . . Voldemort killed you . . ." Malika added.

So I am dead . . . lovely.

"Can I become 'undead' then? I have things to do--unfinished business, if you will," he said as he stood. The two women stood with him and shook their heads.

"Honey, I've been dead for sixteen years, and Malika's been dead for five. Good luck in getting back to the land of the living, for we sure haven't had any."

"Besides, you won't even miss them," Malika promised.

Draco looked at her as if she were crazy. How could he not miss them? They were his life! He already missed having Ginny in his arms--why else would he embarrass himself by kissing Potty's mother? Blech . . . regardless if she's gorgeous . . .

"Thank you, Draco, that's very sweet of you," Lily said with a flutter of her eyelashes.

Draco looked at them warily and sighed. "You can read my thoughts, can't you?"

They nodded their heads. "Only us, though, because we're your guides," Malika revealed.

"Speaking of guides, why do I need one? Clearly I'm not going anywhere for a while. Shouldn't I just bask in the Fields? And if I'm Osiris' reincarnate, why am I not ruling anything?"

"Because you're only his reincarnate, not Osiris himself. He's actually here, but he had unfinished business, and you are to finish it."

He snorted. "Kind of hard to do that while I'm dead."

"Miracles happen everyday, honey," Malika said with a wink.

Draco looked at her askance. This was unreal. Here he was, dead in the Elysian Fields, and his best friend's mother and enemy's mother were his guides. He didn't understand it at all. "You do realize I don't like your son, right?" he asked Lily.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Right, and you don't love Ginny Weasley." Draco opened his mouth to defend himself, but she held up a hand to stay his words. "You like my son, Draco. That's why you fight him so. You don't want to like him, especially after all that's happened between you two, but you can't fight fate. It's time to bury the hatchet and move on. Nursing this grudge will only make Voldemort and Set's job easier."

"Besides, my daughter loves Harry, and he'll be around much more after this all blows over."

He looked at them in confusion. "But I'm dead now."

Malika snapped her fingers as if she just remembered. "That's right! Whoops! Silly me . . ."

Draco could see where Nia got her sarcasm from; it was refreshing to have something familiar with him in this unknown, yet beautiful paradise.

"Why would anyone want to leave this?" he murmured. It was indeed beautiful. The grass was terribly green, and there were trees and flowers of exotic magnificence. Behind him there was a waterfall, which reminded him of Victoria Falls where his father took him as a young child. Right at that moment, he wished for nothing more than to swim in the lake, reveling in this worry-free world.

"Like you said, you have unfinished business," Lily reminded him.

"Eh, let Potty handle it--he loves to play hero anyway," he muttered.

"A-hem."

He blushed then. It didn't bode well to call his guide's son out of his name, no matter how he felt about him. "Potter, then."

"Right, and remember, he didn't ask to be in this role, anymore than the rest of you. It was thrust upon him," Malika said.

"I was happy in my sullen, bratty mood," Draco said unconvincingly.

"The rest of the world wasn't. Osiris couldn't contact you until you'd got over that. I understand your father was your hero; it's understandable and even logical, but Lucius was a cancer to you."

"I do believe I've been cured of that," he said dryly.

"Yes, but you feel betrayed by him; that means you still care for him in spite of the ills he's done," Malika revealed.

"Do not."

Lily looked at him kindly. "It's all right, Draco." She regarded him a moment, putting a hand on his cheek. Her hand was cool against his skin, yet comforting, maternal even. That familiarity permeated through him, and he closed his eyes. "You are like my son in many ways--growing up without a father. You created fantasies about Lucius, always making excuses for things he did that bothered you as you grew up--the curses thrown, the cold shoulder, the treatment of your mother. As you grew older, especially as you went to Hogwarts and saw and heard other students talk about their fathers, you began to feel an ache. Severus helped you with that, stepping into that paternal role you always wanted and needed, yet had to create for yourself in your father."

Draco opened his eyes and looked to Malika. There was a soft smile on her features at the mention of Snape. "Nia loves him."

Malika nodded. "I know, even despite the truth coming out. I knew their love was strong enough to overcome that. I meant what I said--Sev is her father in every way that counts."

He looked at them curiously. It was common knowledge how Lily Potter died, but how did Malika?

"A curse," she replied, reading his curious look on his face. "When I became pregnant, a curse sealed itself upon me."

"What kind of curse?"

Malika sighed and sat down, picking a flower and twirling it in her hands. "It was supposed to fill darkness in the babe I'd conceived and make it a perfect heir for the Dark Lord; however, it was also supposed to kill me, right after I had Nia."

Draco frowned. "But it didn't . . . you didn't die until Nia was nine."

She nodded. "Yeah, for one because I wasn't a virgin when the conception happened--turns out that was my best defense. Sev's love acted as an antibody to the darkness within me, and it protected Nia. Unfortunately, I had a complicated pregnancy; I almost lost Nia twice."

Draco exhaled a long breath. "I'm glad you didn't. She's very important to the cause."

Malika smiled softly. "She is . . . that's my baby girl! She's so beautiful, don't you think?"

Lily snorted. "My son certainly thinks so--he can barely keep his eyes off her. I wish I could've met her."

"Well, I couldn't've picked a better son-in-law if I had built him myself," Malika praised.

Draco looked at the two women in horror. "Please stop talking like that!"

Malika winked at Lily and nodded. "I'll oblige you now; besides I haven't finished telling you about the curse. The other reason why I lasted as long is because Nia's a preemie--born a month early. The curse didn't have time to fully come into fruition. Had I carried Nia to term, I would've died as soon as she was born, though it was touch and go while I gave birth to her. I lost a lot of blood then, but Grandpa was there to help."

"Took her almost two days, in fact."

"Glad I wasn't born a woman." He smirked.

"You do have a low tolerance for pain, don't you, Drakkie?" Malika teased.

Draco shuddered at the name. He hated to be called that, and he knew Malika knew it. "I let Voldemort kill me; I think that negates that comment."

"Like I said, you're more like my son than you want to admit," Lily said.

He scowled at them and huffed. "Oh fine! Potter's not all that bad--doesn't stop the fact he gets on my nerves."

"All I wanted was an admission. You don't have to be best mates," Lily told him.

He bit his lip as he stared at a blade of grass. It felt weird to be here, not because he was dead, but because he was okay with being dead. Of course, initially, he'd been up in arms about it, not really believing he was, even though he'd practically forced Voldemort to kill him. To be honest, he thought Ginny would work her magic and bring him back before the Death Eaters could properly Apparate out of Hogsmeade. Obviously it didn't work that way, but now he was in a position where he wouldn't mind not going back to his old life.

"I told you, you wouldn't miss it," Malika said. Her face was peculiarly sad. "I want to miss my daughter, but I can't. I'm in Paradise, and I know everything happens for a reason."

He gave a half-smile. "That's one of Nia's favorite sayings."

"I know--I told her that all of the time, especially when she saw me die. It was a rather gruesome dream. The plane got shot down, and we crashed. She survived, but I didn't. She could never get three feet off the ground after that for fear of dying."

"And that solves the mystery of her fear of heights," Draco said. "Jamilah's been having a time trying to give her flying lessons."

"But Harry is a good teacher . . . he won't let anything happen to her--he's like his father in that respect, making sure everyone is safe and out of harm's way," Lily said fondly.

Draco frowned. "Where is Mr. Potter?"

Lily rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Probably off walking with Malika's father. He likes to hear old Muggle war stories, and Mr. Roberts likes to tell them."

"Muggles are here, too?" he asked.

Malika looked at him proudly and clapped. "Very good, Mr. Malfoy! You didn't say Mudblood or any other derogatory term for non-wizard kind."

"Death has a way of putting things into perspective," he said dryly.

Lily smiled and nodded. "Well, to answer your question, yes, there are Muggles here, although here it doesn't really matter who had magic or not during life--everything is negated and equal. I wish it would've been like that in life."

Draco didn't comment. All his life, his worth had been determined by how he had compared to others--be it magic, money, or physical ability. The more he had, the better he thought he was; now he knew that wasn't the case. He remembered the conversation he had with Granger before all of this went down, and he felt strangely sorry for it. Still doesn't negate the fact she's annoying.

"It never does, but at least you've realized there's more to life than that petty stuff," Lily said.

"Too bad I learn it while I'm dead."

Malika shrugged. "Betta late than never."

Lily laughed, and even Draco let out a chuckle. He would have never pictured himself holding a conversation with the mothers of Nia and Harry--mothers who'd been dead long before he met either child. Lily, while she didn't say much, exuded compassion and understanding, while Malika kept to the facts and lightened moods. He could see how each played a role in their children's lives even beyond the grave.

"I wonder how they would've turned out had they had you with them," he murmured.

"I don't. Everything happened the way it was supposed to happen," Malika said.

"I had to die the way I did . . . it gave my son the protection he needs against Voldemort," Lily said.

"Protection?"

Lily nodded. "I'm sure Harry hasn't told anyone this--not even Ron or Hermione--but my love and blood protects him from Voldemort; in fact, if I hadn't sacrificed myself for him, Harry would not have stood a chance--let alone seven."

"What about Harry's father? Doesn't he have a role to play in it?"

Lily shrugged. "He tried to keep us both safe, and Malika told him spells to keep us out of harm's way and to defend ourselves, but Leka told us it would only be a matter of time. When Voldemort came to our door, we knew. James gave us enough time for me to mutter the spell that would keep my boy safe from Voldemort."

"It was an ancient spell--the one Thoth used to save Horus from Set all those millennia ago."

"Horus? I thought Potter was the reincarnate of Apedemak."

Malika nodded. "He is, but the scenario was just as when Isis hid her son away from Set after she gave birth. She knew he'd be hunting him."

Draco's brows furrowed. During his research, he'd read Horus was the son of Isis and Osiris. The way things had been panning out, what happened all those millennia ago could happen again now. While he loved Nia very much, he didn't love her that way, and he couldn't stomach the potential of cheating on Ginny with his best friend.

"About Horus . . ." he began.

"He was really Apedemak's child. Thoth spread the false rumor to keep Isis in favor with the people. Even back then, children out of wedlock were frowned upon, especially when everyone thought Isis was totally faithful to her husband. She was--just not as a wife would be; their relationship was never more than brother and sister, but to the public, they presented the perfect married couple. Anubis was the child of Nephthys and Osiris, and he remained in the underworld with them," Malika answered.

"Did Horus ever find out?"

"I don't know," Malika admitted. "But soon afterwards, Isis gave up her divinity and decided to live as a mortal in a temple."

"Why would she do that? She was the most powerful goddess on earth!"

"What better way to hide from Set than as a mere human? Set didn't fool around with Muggles, or humans for that matter, but soon he caught on and played the game. He wreaked all sorts of havoc on the human world--the Crusades for example. The Holy Grail? That was Isis. There should never be that much bloodshed for the cup Jesus sipped from. Set appealed to the Christians' love for Jesus and turned it into his own personal vendetta. Sickenin' if you ask me," Malika muttered.

"You worship God?" Draco asked. Both Malika and Lily nodded.

"I went to Leka's church in London, where her aunt and uncle go. It's such a lively place, and the singing was fantastic!"

"The gods and goddesses are like saints in the Christian faith, except they had powers. They all believed in The One--God. The conception of The One has transformed through many millennia, but they all worship the same person."

"Sounds controversial," Draco acknowledged.

"Well, it is. It's hard to keep it straight when the people who know everything about it are all dead now, isn't it?"

"Touché," he laughed.

"But Dumbledore still hasn't made his trip down here yet," Lily mentioned. "Come to think of it, I'm not sure he'll ever die."

Malika grinned. "I know Grandma Asenath will sure be happy to see him."

"But he's not done yet. Harry and Nia will need him now more than ever," Lily predicted.

"I'll admit I didn't like him because I thought he took it too easy on Potter. Half the stuff he did, I would've been expelled for."

"Not with your father lining the pockets of the governors," Lily said dryly.

"Dumbledore's mere presence in the room would overrule any amount of monetary persuasion Lucius could use."

"That's true, but think about it--Harry has a lot on his plate. Why shouldn't he be allowed some slack at the one place that makes him happy?"

Draco refused to comment on her good point.

"And you would think Petunia would show some love and compassion to her nephew," Lily said, her cheeks growing pink.

"Whatever. That boy needs to pull that stick from her butt and beat her wit' it," Malika muttered.

Lily looked at her, aghast, before bursting into giggles. "Malika!"

"What? You know you were thinkin' it, too," she said unapologetically.

"Yes! This is why I had the common decency not to say anything!"

Malika looked at the other woman incredulously. "Since when have I ever censored somethin' on my mind? You know that ain't my style!"

Draco snorted. "It's not Nia's, either."

"Good girl. Silence only makes poop fester," Malika said wisely.

"Or love," Lily said with a wink.

"Or frustration that my daughter and your son haven't just told each other yet! Boy! What's takin' them so long? We have eternity, but they don't!"

Draco chuckled at Malika's passionate speech. "She's scared, Malika. And I don't know about Potter, but I think he's scared too. So much for the Gryffindor in him."

Lily shook his head. "It took his father until seventh year to tell me he loved me . . . as if I didn't know since third year."

"I told you to tell him first! Coulda saved yourself the heartache," Malika muttered.

"Well, I always imagined the man telling me first, not vice versa!"

"Ginny told me she loved me first. I'll admit I was angry, but it definitely made my life easier. Women are confusing--you never know what they want, and even after they tell you, you still don't know if it's the truth or not!"

"But you have your girl! Harry needs to get his!" Lily said emphatically.

"And age smage! We've been hearin' his excuses. Someone needs to tell him to get over it and get to it! They'll always be three years apart, so find another excuse, buddy!" Malika exclaimed.

He smirked at them. "I'll just bet you've been planning this love connection since before they were born."

Lily smiled. "Of course! I knew I was going to have a boy, and Malika swore she was having a girl. You could call it arranged, but it sounds so contrived. It was more that we knew they were going to be together."

"What if Malika didn't have Nia until ten years later or something?"

"Didn't matter, though age would be much more important. However, my parents are twelve years apart, and my great grandparents were twenty years, so clearly that doesn't matter in my family," Malika replied.

"So I guess you wouldn't mind your mum and Sirius getting together?" Lily muttered.

Both looked at the redhead with shock on their faces. "WHAT?!"

"Oh yes. While you were too busy looking at our children, my focus was on your mother and our best friend--your former boyfriend. He's in love with her, and by the looks of it, she's in love with him."

It was as if something clicked in his head. "So that explains the long talks and the presence at training! I thought he was there to help!"

"That's one way of putting it," Lily said dryly.

"And that explains why he made peace with me when he came to visit. He said, 'There must be something about a Roberts woman that makes a bloke fall in love with her.' I naturally assumed he was talkin' 'bout me--he was talkin' 'bout my mama!"

"There's your answer for the hesitancy. He did love you, Leka, but it was never like James' love for me. Both of you felt it was logical to be together, so you forced it. Of course, Sirius had more invested feelings, but then again, you are like your mother in many respects," Lily said.

"And why mama kept gettin' letters from Azkaban. Never could understand that."

"Wow, I'd really be family then--a cousin-in-law to Nia."

"And Sirius would be Severus' father-in-law," Malika snickered. "I hope they get together, just so I can see the look on his face!"

"He'd be yours, too," Lily reminded her. Malika shuddered good-naturedly, and Draco laughed.

"How do you know all of this stuff?" he asked. "You know more than the people alive!"

"Of course we do. We see everything going on in that pool over there. No one can hide from it--not even Voldemort and Set," Lily said, her tone becoming serious.

"What about Voldemort and Set? It wasn't enough he killed me?"

Lily shook her head. "He means to kill my son, and Set to take Malika's daughter. I know that is not news, but the manner in which it will be done is. Voldemort is going to kill him from the inside out--through his dreams. He won't even have to be near Harry, just infiltrate his mind until Harry goes so crazy he kills himself."

Draco's gray eyes widened in alarm. "But what about the Occlumency and the Legilimency? I thought that was to protect him from that!"

"It won't be enough . . . his mind shields are not strong enough. This is not simple magic being used, though the Imperius Curse isn't all that simple. It is ancient magic--darker than anything anyone has yet seen. If Voldemort succeeds, all will be lost, for it is a domino effect. Nia is not yet strong enough, as you undoubtedly know, and if Harry goes, she won't have a chance," Lily explained.

"How can the mind shields be strong enough? I thought I was doing well until Set disabled mine! He almost found out who Isis was!" Draco said with frustration.

Lily looked at him sympathetically. "You were still missing a large piece of the puzzle. It made you vulnerable; it makes Harry vulnerable as well."

"Then again, everything happens for a reason, right?" Malika added.

It was all Draco could do not to roll his eyes. He had to die to save everyone else. He never wanted to be a martyr.

"And we are telling you this for a reason. You need to know, love. You'll be surprise how much you can help," Lily reassured him.

"Fine. What about Ginny? What do I need to know that will help her?"

"She's reached her full potential. Her transformation into the vulture was nothing short of fantastic," Lily said with pride.

"We're Animagi?"

"Comes in handy from time to time," Malika said. "I never changed, though. Never had the need to. But I thought James' Animagus form was beautiful."

"Prongs," Lily said dreamily. "Sometimes he'd let me ride on his back when we went to the woods behind our house. He'd say, 'I'm your noble steed, my fair princess.'"

"It was corny," Malika told him with a wink.

"You're just mad your husband couldn't do it."

Malika moved her mouth mockingly to Draco, and he laughed.

"She's making fun of me, isn't she?" Lily deadpanned.

"Never!" Malika gasped, and the women fell on their backs in a fit of giggles. They were very much like Ginny and Nia, and Draco smiled. He wished he had a male friend with whom he didn't have to prove himself all the time.

"My son could be that person, if you let him."

He snapped his attention to Lily and saw she reclined on her elbows, a small smile on his face. "I remember when James saved Severus' life from Remus. Severus could never get over the fact he'd done it, and he hated being indebted to a Potter of all people, but he returned the favor by saving us from the first Death Eater attack, telling us about the logistics and everything. From then, it was the start of a delicate friendship. Both men pretended Malika and I didn't know anything about it, but we did. That friendship was stolen from us when Pettigrew revealed our secret. Voldemort knew it would have spelled doom for him if their friendship bond totally solidified."

Draco put the pieces together. "So you're saying I can help save his life as well as Nia?"

Malika nodded. "Think about it, honey. Ginny is friends with all three of you, so is Nia. The weak links in the covenant are you two. You two resist each other, which makes you weak. That is why Ginny is strong, and that is why both you and Harry were vulnerable in the fight. Nia is vulnerable because she's in denial, and so are the two of you. Your missing piece to your full potential is your bond with Harry."

Draco's lip curled. "Unbelievable."

Lily chuckled. "Yes, that's what James said when Asenath told him. All of this could have been avoided if they let bygones be bygones earlier. Everyone in the covenant is connected somehow--You and Ginny because you are soul mates, you and Nia because you are, for all intents and purposes, family--and you and Harry because of your friendship. The longer you let ill times fester between you two, the more vulnerable you are. Ginny is the strongest of you because all of her relationships are solidified. The only reason you're stronger than Harry is because you are bonded with your soul mate. If you weren't, you'd be less powerful than Harry right now."

He scowled. "Wonderful. I'll never be better than he is."

"It is not a competition," Malika said, giving him a light glare. "That's one thing you need to realize. The second thing you need to know is Harry and Nia are the strongest of the four--it has to do with their reincarnates--and in Nia's case, her bloodline. She is a direct descendant of Isis; therefore, she'll be very powerful. There's a reason these two have to be the ones to destroy Voldemort and Set. You can't do it, neither can Ginny, but it takes all four of you to help Nia and Harry accomplish that goal."

Draco nodded, properly reprimanded. "It's bigger than I."

Lily nodded. "Yes. Thanatos thought he was smart by giving you Lucius as a father, but once again, he underestimated Fate. You would fulfill your destiny, even if it took a detour."

"Much as Sev did," Malika remembered.

Draco didn't respond. Fate was a funny thing--making him die only to learn information that would have helped the Cause tremendously. Perhaps Malika was right; perhaps it was better late than never. Obviously they were helping from beyond the grave, and Draco would do everything in his power to help as well . . . right after he took a nap. His eyes began to droop, and he struggled to keep them open. He wanted to learn more about this strange, ancient power, but his body had other thoughts. "I wasn't aware we needed sleep even after death."

"It happens to the best of us," Lily said, her voice sounding husky.

He felt someone fumbling through his pockets, and he sat up, looking at two guilty women. "What?" he asked.

"We wanted you to hold something for us," Lily said. There were tears in her eyes, and she hugged Malika tightly.

Draco was confused. Why would she be crying? He was just going to sleep! "I'll be back," he said jokingly.

"Not for a long while, Sleepin' Beauty," Malika said with a soft smile.

Draco rolled his eyes and smirked. "Fine. Whatever. When I wake up, I want to hear more stories."

"You will; trust me," Lily said on a watery laugh.

"We'll see you later, honey . . . much later . . ." Malika said.

Draco snorted and closed his eyes. Total darkness consumed him, regardless that the Fields were bright and sunny, and his body felt as if it was repairing itself. Never had he felt more rested than he did, so quickly. Maybe when you're dead, you don't need as much sleep.

One eye popped open, and a blinding light greeted it. He tried to lift his hand to block the light, but someone was holding it very tightly. He tried to tug it out of the vice grip, but it merely tightened around his hand. What the--

"He moved!"

The tone was full of awe and disbelief. Why were they acting so weird? He'd been dead for a while, and yet moving and talking as if he was alive. Besides, they'd been dead longer than he had!

He squinted and saw the familiar red hair. He decided to play their game. "What are you on about, Lily? Of course I moved! How else was I able to lie down to sleep?"

"Lily?"

His head turned to the sound of the voice, but his eyes never fully opened--it was far too bright for him to do so. There were only two people who spoke with that voice, anyway, and one of them was currently alive. "Of course, Malika! That's her name, isn't it?"

He was smacked, and it bloody hurt. He sat up quickly, grasping his cheek in shock. "What did you do that for? I'm up!" His eyes watered, and his vision was blurry, but he noticed something that quickly sent his mind reeling.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, Draco Malfoy!" the dark woman said angrily.

Draco turned to Lily for support, but his speech left him as soon as he saw her.

"Lily's" eyes were brown, not green.

He remembered Malika's last comment before he went to sleep--"See you later, honey . . . much later . . ."

Roberts women always have to be right, he thought, right before he fainted.