The Road to Godric's Hollow

11 July 1980

"Well, everything seems to be in order. Just don't forget to take your vitamins and get enough rest, and your baby will be fine," reassured the middle-aged woman seated behind the mahogany desk.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr. Rosenbaum," answered Lily Potter.

The elder doctor smiled at the auburn-haired woman. "I will be seeing you next month, then, Mrs. Potter."

Lily stood up and shook the other woman's hand before leaving the small office. She awkwardly made her way across the clinic's hallways, her bulk making it harder for her to manoeuvre along the crowded passages. Here and there expectant mothers were sitting on the benches, patiently waiting their turn. A few were holding squirming toddlers, some quietly nursing infants.

She walked out into a sunny quad, surrounded by majestic elms and blooming roses. Few cars were driving along the road fronting the clinic, and a handful of children were playing in the playground situated in the middle of the quad while being overseen by their gossiping mothers.

"They look so peaceful, so happy, so content," she said to herself.

How she envied them that bliss brought upon by life's routines. Their biggest dilemmas probably consisted of what to feed their families for the night, or whether to paint the baby's room pink or lavender. Their lives are untouched by pain, by death, by suffering... by war. But she did not have that luxury. She chose not to have that luxury nine years ago, and not for the first time she is regretting that choice.

Continuing her slow yet steady gait, she made her way towards the building's deserted rear. She looked at her muggle wristwatch and saw that there was still half an hour before lunchtime.

I could still catch James before he heads out with the boys, she thought.

Checking to see if anyone was watching, she Apparated with a loud crack and found herself in the midst of a rundown alley. Quite a number of disreputable establishments, including a dingy pub, lined the street, and a whole patch of wall was covered with graffiti. Lily walked towards a freshly painted yet obviously broken down telephone booth. Inside she dialled 6-2-4-4-2. A woman's voice immediately greeted her, and asked her name and the nature of her visit.

"Lily Potter, here to visit her husband in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," she replied to the disembodied voice.

A silver badge promptly materialized out of the telephone box, which she attached to her robes. Without warning the telephone box dropped down, shooting past the ground with a speed that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Lily clutched at her swollen belly, afraid that the sudden motion might put unwanted stress on her unborn child. Less than a minute later, and not a moment too soon, the box stopped its descent and Lily stepped out into the Atrium.

The foyer was bustling with life. Witches and wizards were moving towards various directions. Emerald flames danced in the numerous fireplaces as people went to and from the Ministry via floo. Lily gingerly moved towards the security stand to have her wand registered by a sleepy guard. As the guard processed her wand, she glanced at her watch and saw that it was a quarter to noon. She hurried towards the crowded lifts that would take her up to the second level.

Lily hoped that she would catch her husband before he went out to lunch with his co-workers. She just wanted to be with him. They've hardly seen each other these past few days. James was always busy with his Auror work during the day, and by night he was out on duty for the Order and usually she was already asleep by the time he came home. But she didn't begrudge him his work; neither did she resent his late hours. She just wanted to be with him today, no matter how short their time together.

"Level Five, the Department of International Magical Cooperation," the magical voice announced.

Lily watched as a number of wizards disembarked, only to be replaced by even more wizards. She recognized a number of faces, all acquaintances from Hogwarts. Everybody seemed so mature, so grown-up. They all looked like they belonged here, with their smart robes and rolls of parchment. She's never felt so out of place before. Lily remembered the last time she felt this way, when her mother caught her applying make-up eleven years ago. Her mother gently reprimanded her, saying that she shouldn't be in such a hurry to grow up.

"Enjoy your childhood, Lily. You're only a child once."

And she was still a child, a child with child. She knew she wasn't ready for motherhood. She was too young, by both muggle and wizard standards. She was starting to feel anxious again, a panic akin to claustrophobia. She just wanted to escape, to run away, and to go someplace not ravaged by war. She just wanted to be a child again, to not feel any responsibility for another human being, to not being obligated to fight a losing battle.

"Level Two, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," announced the silky voice.

Lily carefully squeezed through the crowd inside the lift and managed to get out of the lift after much pushing. She walked through the hallway leading to the Auror Headquarters, glancing out the magical windows into perfect white clouds amidst a periwinkle sky.

"Hey Lily!" cried a tall black man from the entrance to the Headquarters. "How are you doing? And when is the little Potter due?"

"Hello Kingsley," she answered with a smile. "I'm fine, though a little tired. It's due next month. By the way, have you seen James?"

"Yes, he's at his cubicle. I think Sirius is in there with him," he answered while gesturing towards the eastern part of the room.

"Thanks," Lily replied with a small smile.

She walked easily down the aisles of the Headquarters, having walked by it countless times already. She found her husband in his cubicle, surrounded by posters of various Quidditch teams. Images of the Holyhead Harpies, the Chudley Cannons, the Montrose Magpies, the Pride of Portee, the Wimbourne Wasps, and countless others greeted her. She walked in to the sounds of laughter, and saw that the two men were nearly falling out of their seats.

"Hey boys, what's so funny?" she asked, leaning in to James for a kiss.

Sirius acted sick and made gagging noises while James gave his seat to his wife.

"Just reminiscing, thinking about our seven years of fun and innocence in Hogwarts," James answered.

Lily snorted. "Innocence?"

Sirius sat up in indignation. "Hey! What are you insinuating, hmm?" he asked in mock anger.

James laughed. "How did the check-up with that obscurean-giantologist go?"

"Obstetrician-gynaecologist, dear," Lily corrected him. "It went well. She just told me to get enough rest and to stay away from rampaging buffoons like your best friend."

"Hey! I'm not rampaging!" Sirius cried out.

"Buffoon nonetheless," James retorted with a grin. "Anyway, is there something wrong?" he asked his wife.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just thought that maybe we could, um, have lunch together, for a change?"

"Ahem, I think I better get going now, before I die from overexposure to sugar," Sirius muttered. He turned to leave the couple, not before giving James a small wink.

James gave Lily a small smile. "Sure. That's a lovely idea. Let me just fix my things."

As the couple went down, with James' arm across his wife's shoulders, all her doubts and fears became forgotten. With her husband by her side, Lily began to feel safe and happy.

***

He was back in the Gryffindor common room, which was eerily devoid of life. There was no one lounging by the couch. There was no fire burning in the fireplace. There were no candy wrappers scattered on the floor. He decided to go up into the boys' dormitory, into his old dormitory. Gingerly he went up the circular staircase, the stone staircase that appeared to be close to collapse. Finally he reached the door to his old room, but it wouldn't open.

"Alohomora!" he muttered, brandishing his wand but to no avail. The door still did not budge.

Laughter suddenly echoed up from the common room. He turned around and ran down the stairs.

"Padfoot? Prongs? Moony? Are you there? Wait for me!" he desperately cried out.

There was no one there. The common room was still empty. He turned around, searching every corner, every space, for a sign of his friends. Their laughter still echoed in the room. After a minute, he noticed that the Fat Lady's door was open. He rushed out, hoping to see a glimpse of his friends.

He stepped out not into a Hogwarts hallway, but into a dark field. The fiercely blowing wind nearly knocked him off his feet. He groped blindly into the night, walking aimlessly forward.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

"Over here, Peter. I'm over here," a faint voice answered him.

He followed the voice, desperately wanting to find its source, to find someone in this vast abyss. A light suddenly came on, a faint light emitted by a far-away wand. He stumbled towards it. The weak, pulsating light became his beacon. He slowly made his way up what seemed to be a hill, and the light was situated right at its peak.

It seemed as if he would never finish his ascent, and he was wondering if perhaps he wasn't actually moving when he reached the summit. He was brought face to face with a small, balding man who appeared to be digging into the ground. The man had sallow skin, skin so pale he no longer appeared to be alive. His eyes were bloodshot, with deep circles embedded beneath them. This man smiled at him, and Peter was reviled to see the other's yellow and crooked teeth. This small man gave off a foul stench, a stench reminiscent of rotting flesh.

"What took you so long, Wormtail?" the other man asked in a raspy voice.

Peter felt cold, and his left forearm suddenly felt as if on fire.

"Have you seen the others? James, Sirius and Remus?" Peter asked.

"They've long gone. You've made them disappear," the man answered.

"Who are you?" Peter asked.

The man softly laughed. "You know who I am. And I certainly know who YOU are."

Peter groped around his robes for his wand, but he could not find it. Blind panic was starting to overwhelm him, and fear has taken hold over his mind.

"Who are you?" he asked again, his question laced with desperation.

"Have you come to join me, Wormtail?" inquired the other, saying the last word with a tinge of sarcasm.

"Join you where?" Peter asked.

"Here. I think this grave is roomy enough for us," the other man said, laughing as he gestured towards the newly dug grave.

"Who are you?" Peter asked again. He tried to ignore the pain in his arm, though he felt as if it was on fire.

"Peter Pettigrew," answered the other man. "Won't you help me dig?"

Peter woke up, drenched in sweat and with tears flowing down his face. He took deep breaths in an effort to calm down. Suddenly a fiery pain burst through his left forearm. He felt frightened again, no longer of the phantoms in his mind but of a real and terrible menace. With speed that is unexpected from someone of his stature, he dressed and made himself presentable. Clutching his white mask in his right hand, he Apparated towards an inconspicuous corner of Britain where the Dark Lord was waiting for him.