Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc

Lily Evans and the Lefay Torc
by ErtheChilde

"There are very few people who could claim ownership over this particular item. I am sure once you have a moment to examine it, you will realize why you are one of them and why it is of the utmost importance that you accept that."

- CHAPTER FOUR - The Defiance of Temeraire Tillingsworth

Lily was dreaming.

There was a peculiar sense of weightlessness that engulfed her, and while she was distinctly conscious of the heaviness of her body as it slumbered beneath the down quilt of her bed, and people coming in and out of her room, her awareness was far from where she lay. The world whirled around her as her perspective switched rapidly back and forth, allowing her to take in her surroundings with her own eyes as well as see herself the way a stranger might.

She was struck by how small she seemed in the darkness, wandering calmly through the thick underbrush of a forest in her white flannel nightdress.

Despite the constant, dizzying blurring over her view as tended to happen in a dream, she was completely unafraid. Even if she hadn't been dreaming, so many odd things happened to her in waking hours that she felt no fear or surprise.

The shady canopy of the forest was sheltering, not at all overbearing, and the silence, broken only by the sound of living things, was calming. In the distance, she thought she heard a wolf howl. The path was smooth against her bare feet, and although it was very dark, she could make out the shapes of trees on either side. The forest to the left of her seemed fuller and more mature, while to her right, the trees barely seemed half-grown, flowers only in their early-blooming stages. She heard animals on both sides, the soft twitter of the birds and unapologetic crash of forest creatures through leaves and reeds.

From up ahead somewhere, she could hear music, its lilting roll urging her feet onward, making her want to skip and dance toward it, as though a playmate was calling for her to hurry up and come outside. She hurried to do as the music bid her, traipsing along the path that stretched out, straight and without the promise of curves, before her.

She came upon a stone archway that seemed so primeval, fractured and crumbling that Lily was astonished the structure was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding walls or tethers, the archway was hung with a tattered black drape or veil which, despite the absolute tranquillity of the chilly air surrounding it, fluttered very slightly as though it had just been touched. A very faint whispering, murmuring noise came from the other side.

The closer she came toward the archway, the taller it seemed to her, and it continued to sway gently as though someone invisible had just passed through it. Although overwhelmed by curiosity, Lily hesitated in front of it, glancing to the left and right. It blocked the rest of the path, and the trees grew so thickly around either side that the only way to get past it would be to go through it.

There was something both enticing and foreboding about the veil as it continued to flutter and sway, but as there was no other way to go, Lily decided it must be the only way through.

She stepped forward, ready to pass through it, when suddenly the whispers on the other end grew excited, and before her eyes, the veil abruptly parted, its misty substance gathering around both sides of the archway like climbing ivy.

'You may pass,' a reedy, wistful voice said, and she was so surprised by it that she hurriedly did what it said. As she continued on her way, she thought she heard it add in a long-suffering voice, 'I hope you don't mean to make as much of a habit of this as the last one did...'

She had absolutely no idea what that meant, but continued on into the woods, the momentary wariness at the veiled arch leaving her, forgotten just as quickly with every step away from it.

She must have marched onward for days, but knew it was really only seconds, before the closeness of the woods around her began to dissipate, and the path widened. It eventually opened up, and she could see light ahead. Intent on reaching the end of the path, she stopped short when she reached a junction, and her jaw dropped slightly in amazement.

The path forked into three other directions, but this was not what seemed strange to her - what captured her attention was that each bit of landscape between the paths appeared to be in a different season, seamlessly blending in with its surroundings. Directly to her left, the trees and grass were in the full bloom of summer, while to her right only new buds and fledgling greenery sprouted up, the scent of loamy earth and melting snow mixing with the warm breeze coming from her left. Beside the spring-like patch of ground, willows and oaks towered, their foliage coloured with the bright, dying shades of autumn, and bordering that - most wondrously - it was snowing. Wind lightly lifted the snowflakes, blowing them past the barren trees and pristine white that snow should be and never was in Mill Town. Up above, the sky was filled with both the moon and the sun, but strangely, the brightness didn't hurt her eyes, and she marvelled at the sight of the stars winking in and out of sight around the two heavenly bodies.

For a moment, she thought she could even make out each of the planets in orbit; one of them gleamed a bright, angry red that made her dizzy, and she looked back to the strange intersection, once again taken in by the ethereal beauty of it. It was as she was taking this illogical sight in that she realized that she was not alone.

In the middle of the juncture, a fire was burning cheerfully, casting shadows that stretched in all four directions, and a man sat there playing a fiddle.

Lily took a tentative step closer, trying to discern what sort of a person this was that would be sitting in such a strange location.

The man by the fire was tall, with thinning iron grey hair, and wore an extremely shabby pair of denim pants and an equally tattered coat which had been darned in several places. He had the ill look of someone who had gone without food for a long while, and there were dark circles under his clear blue eyes. Despite the distinct state of insolvency, he sat straight and tall, and something about him made Lily think of a knight from the drawings of Arthurian nobles in her sister's history textbooks. He was alone but for a rather large marmalade-coloured cat that was curled by his feet, staring warily out into the darkness of the forest.

Part of her didn't want to disturb the man, feeling the way she had at an aunt's funeral several years earlier when the time had come to pay last respects to the deceased and even being in the same room with the corpse had felt stifling and imposing. However, another part of her sensed a strange familiarity to this man.

A twig snapped beneath her bare feet.

The cat hissed in her direction, its large golden narrowing as it caught sight of her. At the noise, the man stopped playing, looked up and peered directly at Lily. To her surprise, he could see her in the shadows as well as the cat could, and after a moment, he smiled and encouraged her to step forward.

"You have wandered far from home, little one," he told her in a rich, resonant voice that belied his destitute surroundings. "What brings you so deep into the forest?"

The sense of familiarity grew, like warmth that encompassed her entire being, and she took several steps closer to the fire.

"I'm asleep," she told him earnestly. She felt as though she had known this man her whole life, and that she had simply come upon an old friend, and they had sat down for a visit. "This is all a dream, you know."

"Is it, now?" He didn't appear to be at all staggered by her words, and his tone wasn't mocking so much as bemused. There was something in his eyes, though, that appeared suspiciously like sympathy to Lily. He put away the fiddle. "What makes you say that?"

Lily paused to consider, and the world spun again. She had to close her eyes to ground herself, remembering where she was. She felt, as though from far away, as someone's hand brushed her forehead and cheeks, heard someone crying, and another person wrapping soft flannel blankets closer around her. When she opened her eyes again, the stranger appeared bemused, but she told him confidently, "They're taking care of me. At home, you see? I think I might have gotten sick after I fell into the river."

"What were you doing in the river?"

"I had to save Severus," she explained, and he nodded, and she didn't ask whether he knew who she was talking about or not. Somehow, it didn't seem at all important. "He fell in."

"And did you?"

"Yes," she said proudly. "But...I'm not sure how. I think it was a near thing."

"It probably was," he agreed. He gestured at a large rock on the opposite side of the roaring fire. "Why don't you sit down? We can talk a little while you wait."

"While I wait for what?" she queried, but the fire was so inviting that she was already tip-toeing forward and taking the proffered seat. The man didn't answer her, taking a stick to persuade the flames to grow.

Lily found herself mesmerized by the way they danced, and the longer she stared into it, the more she was sure that she could make out something other than the shapes of curling embers. The fire's surface seemed to gleam as smoothly as the most magnificent mirror. Silhouettes moved around inside; indistinct, but familiar. She thought she saw herself, holding something - a baby, she realized, with thick black hair - and turning away from something - protectively, she thought absently and then she jumped as a green flash of light sparked from within the fire. There were no more images, and for whatever reason, Lily could no longer bring herself to look into the flames. An immense sadness and regret had taken hold of her.

Her gaze fell on the cat, which was staring intently at her from its place beside the man, its orange eyes endless depths of something Lily couldn't name. Something made her sure that the cat knew what she had seen, and knew exactly what it meant. It continued to stare at her, and Lily realized she would not be able to break away until the cat let her. When it finally did, she shivered at the experience.

She focussed on the older man again, and asked nervously, "Is he yours?"

He laughed, apparently finding this very funny, though Lily didn't know why the notion of owning a pet was humorous.

"She belongs to her own self." The man sent an amused look at the cat, which began to clean her paws ostentatiously.

"I read in a book once that orange cats are always boys," Lily said thoughtfully. The cat paused in her toilette to give Lily a sharp glance, as though to say 'that show's what you know', and then went back to her task.

The man laughed again, and stated, "Well, Cat-Sidhe defies laws and nature. Both mortal and immortal. She appears to us how she wants to appear. Be glad she's not in a dramatic mood, or you might see something a little less...tame."

The cat hissed at him, but the sound wasn't dangerous, more a friendly rebuke.

The realization that she was now thinking of the cat as a person made her smile slightly, and she considered her surroundings again. The flames threw strange shadows across the four paths and the trees of every season. Was it her imagination, or did the shapes seem a lot more precise than any she had ever seen a fire cast before? She shook her head, returning her attention to her new companions.

If Lily had been awake, she probably would have thought the three of them made an odd picture - a vagabond and his feline companion sitting serenely across the fire from a young girl in her nightdress. Being quite sure that she was dreaming, she merely took it as an oddity that her mind was playing out for her.

"Where are we?"

"A crossroads," he told her, "a meeting place between many paths."

"It's beautiful. But at the same time..." she paused, and shivered. "At the same time, it feels awfully dodgy."

"It does, doesn't it?" he agreed. "Regardless, child, it's one of the safest places to be."

"Why?"

"It's a very difficult place to find," he said after brief consideration. "A little bit of a backdoor, if you think about it."

She thought about it, and this almost made sense, and so she nodded. "How did you find it?"

"I stumbled on it many years ago," he replied easily, leaning back on the ground, his palms pressed comfortably against the loamy earth. "Every so often, I end up back here, and each time it gets easier to come back." He sighed suddenly, looking morosely up at the sky that seemed too small for both the sun and the moon. "I think this time's for keeps, though."

"Why?" she asked, incredulous.

"There's not much to go back to, I'm afraid," he answered seriously. "It's for the best that I stay here a while anyhow. There's something I intend to find out, and this seems the best place to do it."

"Do what?"

"A complicated question." He seemed to ponder, although it didn't seem very complicated to Lily. "I suppose you could say that I'm hiding from someone while I wait for someone else."

This didn't make any kind of sense to Lily, but she had learned that it was not polite to be constantly questioning and pestering adults. The cat seemed to notice her inability to respond to this, and got up, stretching and yawning, and pranced over to her. Its purring was loud and sent vibrations through the ground and the rock where Lily sat, and after sniffing her, effectively sizing her up, it suddenly jumped into her lap and nudged Lily to pet her. Not knowing what else to do, she acquiesced, feeling that ignoring the cat - especially in this strange place where anything might happen - would be a bad idea.

The stranger took in the sight, his lips pursed, but the expression wasn't angry, only mildly taken aback.

"She doesn't usually like people," he remarked dryly.

While Lily was sure this was true from the lack of welcome the creature had given her before, it seemed hard to believe the way she was purring contentedly in her lap.

"Lots of animals like me." Lily shrugged. "Severus says I've got a natural, um, aura about me."

"You've got something," the stranger agreed, squinting at her. "Who's Severus?"

"He's my best mate. We're going to secondary school together next year."

"I see." His expression briefly flashed pity, which she didn't understand. "So you would be, what, twelve then?"

"I'm eleven," she said proudly.

He sighed heavily. "I see...well. I suppose I should tell you - er, what did you say your name was?"

"My name is Lily Evans."

"Alright then, Lily, I suppose I should tell you before you find out yourself, that..." He cut himself off unexpectedly, and frowned before repeating, "Evans?" When she nodded, he looked incredulous, and a strange note came into his voice. He looked her over again, as though seeing her for the first time. "What's your father's name?"

"Perry," Lily replied.

"Hm." The stranger did not seem to find this helpful, and Lily was struck by the urgent need to be clear with this man.

"But then...my grandmother always calls him 'Eoghan'," she explained. "I think that's his real name, but he got tired of trying to get his boss at the mill to spell it proper and...and...is something wrong?"

The stranger had suddenly turned paler, and his eyes were widening in what Lily could only consider to be anguished disbelief.

"...Your grandmother," he faltered, his voice not above a whisper, "she would be Rhosyn Llywelyn, then?"

"Yes," Lily's eyes widened, surprised. "How did you know?"

The man cursed under his breath, but at her worried gaze, forced a calming smile onto his face, which only served to make her uneasy. "Rhosyn was my niece. And I remember your father. You look exactly like him; I don't know why I didn't make the connection before. I suppose I was distracted..." At her querying look, he clarified, "My name is Dafydd Tillingsworth - your dad always called me Great Uncle Taffy though."

Something clicked at the back of Lily's mind.

"Oh, yes!" she cried, suddenly delighted. "Dad was talking about you the other day; he said you were in the war, and that you were called something else...Teme-Temer- thing."

"Temeraire," he supplied, and shook his head with a fond smile. "Yes, they did call me that." He smiled reminiscently. "The French do have a certain sense of humour - if trouble was going to find anyone, it would be me. And in those days, trouble usually meant a good deal of danger..."

Lily frowned, trying to work something out. "But...if you're him...Daddy said that -" she felt horror take over her face, "- then you're dead!"

"Quite," he affirmed with a nod. "I have been for several weeks now. Or, at least, several weeks of your time. In this particular place, it's more complicated. I have been here an eternity, but at the same time I haven't actually gotten here yet."

"But..." Lily began, confused, "how are you sitting here, talking to me?"

"I told you that this was a crossroads," he explained, and his tone took a sudden turn, a patient, calming tone that her mother often used on her when she was sick or upset. "This particular one is a crossroad life and death. It's what I was trying to tell you a moment ago."

"Life and death," Lily echoed, and felt her heart begin to speed up as the implications grasped hold of her. "You mean, the reason I'm talking to you right now, is because...?"

"Usually when a person comes here, they are crossing the final threshold of the Veil," he explained gently.

The strange archway she had passed through suddenly made sense to her, and Lily sprang to her feet, terrified, looking around for an escape. "That's not possible!"

"There is very little that is not possible," he said mildly. "Possible is in the eye of the beholder, so to speak."

"I can't have died!" Lily cried.

"I don't think you have," he told her. "Although, at first I thought you might be the spirit of an unlucky child who did - but no. You're still too lively to be dead. I believe you're probably just dying."

"D-dying?" Lily cried, almost hysterically. "I-I-I only just turned eleven today! And - and it's not fair! I only just got accepted to Hogwarts, and Severus is going to be so upset if I die, we were looking forward to going together - and oh, Tuney was right! She was right, I never should have - "

"Calm down," Temeraire commanded, still softly but with a firmness that made her clamp her mouth shut. She could feel tears forming in her eyes. "Getting upset and losing control will only weaken whatever tethers you to your life."

Lily immediately forced herself to calm down.

Something appeared to occur to Temeraire, because he cocked his head at her. "Hold on - did you say Hogwarts?" He regarded her keenly. "The magic school?"

"Yes," Lily replied miserably, tears now beginning to inch down her cheeks. She was too upset to even wonder how he knew what she was talking about. "I just got my acceptance this morning and...and I so wanted to go!"

He paused thoughtfully, glancing from her to the cat crouched in Lily's lap; the creature was looking at Lily intently, as though measuring her up. Then, strangely, it nodded.

Temeraire was regarding her now with an intense look, as though he was seeing through her, and his eyes whisked back and forth rapidly, like someone reading a book, and his jaw was working, giving the impression that he was biting back words that were threatening to come out. Several times Lily opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but at each of these moments he held up a hand, the abrupt movement causing her to forget whatever she was about to ask. A crestfallen expression took hold, and then was replaced by a determined look that made his eyes glint like steel.

At long length, Temeraire cleared his throat.

"Well," he finally said, "that is indeed something that changes the circumstances."

"What is?" she ventured in a weak voice.

"There hasn't been a witch or wizard in our line for five hundred years." He mistook her wide-eyed disbelief for disagreement. "Oh, it's true. I wasn't one, you see; although it would have been mighty useful at times, let me tell you. Anyhow, if you are truly a witch, then I believe this really does change everything. I don't think you have anything to be worried about -"

"You don't?" Lily demanded tightly. "That's fine for you to say, you're already dead!"

Temeraire laughed loudly. "Yes, you are definitely Eoghan's daughter. You're as spunky as he was at that age." He shook his head. "What I was going to say was 'you can't die here'. Well, I suppose technically you could, if the archway decides not to let you through again - it had better let you through, it's as bound to the laws as we all are -"

" - What -?"

" - And the powers that govern it should know that dying now is not what's been fated to happen to you."

"Fated," she repeated.

"Yes," he sighed. "I'm sorry to say that it's not a kind one you've been dealt, either." He smiled at her then, kindly and comfortingly. "But then, it's the journey and not the destination, is it not?"

"None of this makes sense," she murmured, swaying on the spot. "How do you know all this?"

"Being dead makes one extremely observant," Temeraire told her earnestly. "It's my sincere hope that you don't discover this for many, many years. Alas...The life of one chosen by the Torc is never an easy one."

"The Torc," Lily repeated. "What's a torc?"

He didn't answer her.

His eyes had flicked past her, staring off into the darkness with an unreadable expression. She noticed that his posture had changed, his muscles tautening as he crouched forward, leaping from the ground until he was standing directly in front of her.

"Stay behind me, and try not to move," he hissed.

"Why?" she asked nervously.

"I think he's found me," Temeraire said quietly, and then quieter, more to himself than to her, "but that would mean he's lost his regard for the boundary line. Which means he's more desperate than I thought."

"What are you going on about?" Lily cried, the bubble of fear returning as fast as Temeraire appeared to be losing his composure. "Who's coming? What rules? Tell me what's going on!"

For a split second, he returned his attention to her, and she was staggered by the expression of deep regret and distress.

"I'm so sorry," he told her. "I never meant for it to pass to you. I thought I was the last, and that with my death, he would be unable to find the Torc. However, I forgot that it was forged by magic much more powerful than that of wizards. It has a mind of its own, you see? It sought you by blood."

"What sought me?"

He answered her, but in another language, one that reminded her of when her father spoke Welsh. Even though she knew she had never spoken it, the words reached her as though spoken in her own tongue. "The Lefay Torc."

She didn't even have time to ask, because all of a sudden she too felt the sudden constricting pressure that pushed on her from every direction. It was almost like the air was being slowly pressed out of her body, trying to make room for something that didn't belong. Inching a little to the side, she peered out from behind Temeraire, and her attention was immediately drawn to the path leading from between the summery glade and the one covered in snow.

Out of the darkness itself a figure appeared, so swiftly and silently that Lily thought he had been conjured by the air. One moment there was only the darkness, and then a tall figure in a black cloak had taken its place.

The newcomer was beautiful, but in the unnatural way that only something terrible and powerful could be, appearing like a youth in his twenties at the same time as being eternal and unchanging. His eyes were a poisonous yellow green, and his long hair and beard gleamed reddish gold like a lion's mane. He was tall and muscular, and despite the cold and snow, dressed only in trousers made of animal skin and a black robe that opened over his pale chest. Dark blue symbols had been painted - or perhaps etched - into the skin that showed, and he wore a necklace made of the bones and teeth of animals that were still darkened with what Lily suspected was blood. The very air around him appeared to ripple in an effort to escape him.

At the newcomer's appearance, the cat sprang from Lily's lap, its back arched and hackles rising, making a terrible hissing growl that made Lily's bones feel like they were splintering apart from the inside. The man gave the animal no more than a passing look and waved a dismissive hand, intoning, "Peace, cousin. My quarrel is not with you."

"'Peace' was never a word to so easily cross your lips, Anord," Temeraire said darkly.

The man smirked. "You presume to use my name so freely - do you think because you are dead my power no longer reaches you?"

"Whatever power you think you have, here it's no more than an echo," Temeraire replied stiffly. "What do you want? You've already killed me, what do you hope to gain from pursuing me here?"

The one called Anord smiled, and then inexplicably, sniffed the air, breathing deeply and letting out a long drawn-out sigh "I smell its presence, mortal. It called to me across the divide, whispering its taunting words. Killing you did not destroy it. I see that now. It must have latched onto your consciousness."

"If that's what you think, you're deluded," Temeraire snapped, and made an inconspicuous motion behind his back. Lily didn't understand what it meant, but the cat appeared to. It was only a second, and then the creature was winding its way around Lily, leaning on her and trying to push her away.

"You are the last, Temeraire," the strange man said in that horrible, smooth voice. "After I purge you from existence, no one will stop what I have decreed to be."

"You think those who forged the Torc would not have accounted for your zeal?" Temeraire challenged. "That seems almost hubristic, don't you think?"

"Do not speak as though you know the minds of gods," Anord snarled, and the reality around him quivered. "And do not presume that my being less powerful on this plane means that I cannot wrench what I seek from your soul. A fraction of my might is more than enough to overwhelm a mortal soul."

Cat-Sidhe had managed to pull Lily almost all the way to the edge of the path she had first come from, but she found herself fighting, an absolute certainty taking hold that Temeraire was in grave danger, and that this strange man was more than the most powerful wizard. She knew that if she disappeared, Temeraire would be in trouble.

"And yet the whole of the mortal realm seems enough to keep you in place." The gray-haired old man smiled with what seemed uncharacteristic cruelness. "How many centuries have you searched for the Torc?"

"You think you know better, do you?" Anord hissed. "Even now, my powers grow. There are always those who seek more power, who would do anything to get it. They embrace me. Surely even you know something lurks at the edge of the human mind? As we speak, there is one who rises, whose name his fellow humans are too scared to speak. All because he has embraced my might!"

Temeraire laughed bitterly. "I bet he doesn't even know who you are."

Anord looked murderous, but then, something malicious glinted in his eyes.

"You were not this avoidant when I killed you, Temeraire," he said lightly, stepping forward in a movement that was more a glide than a tread. He stopped, inches away from the old man, who was standing as straight as he could but who still cut a weak figure before the sinister, golden-haired Adonis. "You were surprised, I know, but there was still that defiance in you. You seem almost frightened right now."

Behind Cat-Sidhe, who was insistently pushing her back along the path, Lily could see Temeraire square his shoulders.

"I ask myself - why would anyone be nervous here," Anord continued, roughly pushing past Temeraire and striding into the middle of the crossroads. At his presence, the fire exploded out of control, spluttering and throwing itself in every direction until all the trees had caught fire, even the one surrounded by snow, which had begun to melt. "Isn't this where mortals give up their silly hopes and dreams and accept death? And here I thought you had made peace with your end."

"Are you going to end my existence, or hope I waste away as you prattle on?" Temeraire asked through gritted teeth, turning to keep from exposing his back to the stranger.

Anord did not seem to hear him, instead focussing on Cat-Sidhe. Lily practically stopped breathing as the man came right up before them, frowning down at the cat, who yowled and hissed, baring claws and fangs. He inhaled again, trying to catch an elusive scent, and then moved on.

Lily exhaled slowly, amazed. Somehow, the terrifying man could not see her; but by Cat-Sidhe's incessant stare and continued attempts to push her from the path, Lily knew that while it was only Anord who did not know she was there, it would only be a matter of time.

It was almost as though he had read her mind, because the man laughed bitterly and turned to Temeraire again.

"You're not the last one, are you?" he jeered. "There's another and you are trying to protect the wretch."

"Think what you want," Temeraire retorted tonelessly.

The stranger frowned, and his beauty was instantly marred by the menace in the look. "Here I thought I had killed all of your get."

"You did," Temeraire hedged, and Lily had never heard so much hate in a person's voice, "but you didn't account for the Torc having a mind of its own, did you? The magic that forged it was stronger than anything you have ever done. Don't feel bad, I made the same mistake. To err is human -"

"Do not dare to compare your human folly with mine," Anord replied dangerously. A second later, though, his smile was back, but now Lily had the distinct impression of a skull grinning from beneath the handsome face. "What would a Muggle know of magic anyhow?"

"You would know better than I would," Temeraire replied coldly. "You were there in the times when Muggles and Wizards lived side by side. You know there were some of us who have always been sensitive to it, even if we couldn't use it."

"Which is probably why your line has survived as long as it has even while I hunted you," Anord granted. "An oversight I will not make again, I assure you. You are so helpful this evening, Temeraire. It almost makes me regret having killed you. Had you been more useful in life, I might not have. Perhaps if you help me now, I will leave you to your afterlife."

An icy hand grasped hold of Lily's heart, a hundred times more powerful than the certainty that she was going to die beneath the ice of the river had been. In her soul, she knew that if something could follow you after it had killed you, there would be no end to suffering.

Anord and Temeraire stared at one another, the former expectant and the latter defiant. Without warning, the golden-haired man struck, throwing Temeraire clear across the clearing. Blood spouted from a broken mouth, and Lily screamed at the violence of the blow, torn between wanting to hide and wanting to help.

Temeraire struggled to pick himself up, and turned in her direction. Blood pulsed through one of his eyes as well, and he mouthed, 'Go!'

"Your successor is here?" Anord asked, surprised, and then smiled that terrible smile. "Well, do not be rude, old man, introduce us!"

Thunder rumbled from somewhere, and the air began to heat up. Black mist emanated out of his body, almost seeping from his pores, and to her horror, she saw these tendrils roll outward, forming grasping hands and clawed paws.

Temeraire appeared to throw caution to the wind.

"Child, you must take it and run! Return to where you came from," he told her urgently out of the unbroken corner of his mouth. "Cat-Sidhe can only keep you hidden from his gaze so long on this plane. If he finds you, all will be lost."

"But what about you?" Lily whispered, not wanting to speak for fear of attracting the terrible man's attention.

Temeraire seemed not to hear her.

"I can distract him a while longer. Cat-Sidhe will guide you back."

"Back where?"

"Back through the Veil! Now hurry!"

"But I don't understand!"

"Go!" Temeraire roared, and Lily found herself being pushed by the large cat, which suddenly seemed to loom over her, herding her forward. "He can't know who you are!"

"Do not go far, young one!" Anord called after her, although it was plain from how he looked around he had no idea where she was or who she was. "I will find you soon! I always do."

And he laughed a terrible, booming laugh that made the thunder cower and Lily's heart threatened to burst in her chest.

Lily broke into a run, fighting through the sudden sensation that her feet were made of lead that was mired in the mud. Somehow, she found her hand clenched in Cat-Sidhe's fur, and the cat began to fly - and yet she still felt every blow of the creature's paws against the ground, and the trees rushed by, their greenery marred by the flames coming from the crossroads, flames which were trying to catch her -

" - Can't...go any...further - " she gasped, aching pain in her lungs threatening to make her rip open from the inside, but the cat kept running, and before she knew it they were both coming upon the archway. The whispers were now the buzz of angry bees, and the veil looked more like a solid wall than anything, but Cat-Sidhe emitted an earth-trembling roar, and the veil pulled back again.

They were through it and still flying, and Lily saw that her feet were no longer even on the earthen path, and she was actually being carried by the cat, which had mysteriously grown, and darkened, its gleaming fur changing into an inky, sinister blackness that blended into the dark so well that Lily thought for a second she was riding the darkness.

And then the searing pain was back, and time slowed to a ripple. Cat-Sidhe was snarling, and Lily felt a tug somewhere behind her navel -

(-)

Lily gasped and jerked her entire body, her eyes opening wide.

Immediately she closed them again as the brightness of the room assaulted her vision. It was daytime, and she could smell the familiar scents of her mother's cooking somewhere in the background, and the musty warmth of her room in the winter. Her entire body felt stiff, as though she hadn't moved it in days, and her neck felt swollen when she tried to turn her head.

It took several attempts before she managed to turn it even fractionally, and when she finally did, she started so violently in surprise that she let out a moan of pain.

Severus Snape was asleep on a chair across the room from her.

His eyes sprang open the minute he heard her though, and he blinked once, apparently trying to make sure what he was seeing was real, and then let out a yelp of joy.

"Mr. Evans! Mrs. Evans! She's awake! Lily's awake!"

"What?" this from Petunia, whom Lily hadn't seen perched at the end of her bed, but who now loomed over her, looking weary. When she saw Lily, she cheered and looked for a moment as though she might actually hug Severus, before stopping short and looking at him once more with the look of abject loathing. Outside the room, the sound of footsteps, and then her parents were there, and everyone was crowded into the tiny room that she and Petunia shared.

"Lily, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" her father wanted to know, while her mother was pushing her way forward, checking her temperature. "You gave us such a fright!"

"'M'okay," she rasped, her throat and lips as dry as sand-paper. She looked back at Severus. "Sev...?"

"I was fine right away," he assured her. "I just needed to warm up...but you...Lily..." He trailed off, considering her parents, who gave him encouraging nods. "You've been out for days. At one point, we thought..." Here he looked so pained he couldn't continue, but Lily understood what he was trying to say.

"Sev here refused to go home," her father joked lightly. "We tried to make him - I actually drove him down to his place twice. He kept coming back here. The second time with a sleeping bag. I think he actually meant to camp outside of your room, Lily-bean."

For the first time, Lily noticed the tired circle under Severus' eyes - under her entire family's eyes. Her head pounded, and she felt guilt creep up inside her for making them worry.

"Sorry," she gasped, directing this to everyone.

"Maybe next time you'll listen when I tell you to put on a coat," her mother fretted, but she was squeezing Lily's hand in her own. She lifted a cup of water to her daughter's lips, and only spoke again when Lily could speak no more. "Just promise me - no more mid-winter swims until you know how to make a Pupper - Pepper - Pepperepper - "

She looked askance at Severus.

"Pepperup Potion," Severus supplied coolly.

"That," her mother nodded.

Her father grinned wearily at her. "Sev's been telling us about all the kinds of magic you would be learning once you go to Hogwarts. We had to pass the time somehow."

"Listening to lies," Petunia muttered under her breath so that only Lily could hear, but she ignored her, glancing over at her best friend.

Severus looked utterly out of place in her house, and although her parents were treating him a lot better than he was used to, he still looked aloof and far removed from them. She was sure she'd seen him wince when her father called him by the nickname she had given him. It occurred to her then that no one but she had ever shortened his name. It had been a habit, a nickname she had given him, but she had never asked if he minded it.

She made a mental note to ask him about it when her throat stopped feeling like it had been ripped open and had boiling water thrown on it.

"I'm going back to sleep now," she told them wearily. "I'm tired from running." She squeezed her mother's hand. "Don't worry, Mummy. Just going to sleep." She coughed lightly. "Temeraire...he said it's not my time."

And she closed her eyes, but not before catching the worried looks exchanged by her parents nor the painfully grateful gaze of Severus Snape.

By the time she woke of the second time, the entire dream was forgotten.

Thanks, Kim, for the edit!

TBC