Harry Potter and the Icemaidens

Beckery Hill . . .

"Where . . .?!"

Green eyes flew wide open as the person now on the examination table found herself staring at a ceiling partially covered in glowing tubes of energy similar to modern florescent lights. Blinking in confusion, she then shuddered as she felt bits and pieces of her nervous system respond to her mental command. A moment later, a face appeared in her arc of vision. "Ah! You've come back to us, Lily!"

Her jaw lowered as surprise crossed her face. "Doctor St. John . . . "

He smiled. "Yes. You're in my private clinic right now." The smile then slipped as he gave her a look. "What do you last remember?"

She blinked, and then breathed out. "I remember casting the blood ward around Harry," she slowly said before a cough shuddered her. "And then the Dark Lord broke into the room. I . . . " Another cough. "I tried to hold him off, but he . . . "

More coughing. Hamilton whispered a spell that eased the pressure on her throat. "He struck you with the Killing Curse, didn't he?"

Lily blinked, and then she slowly nodded. "Y-yes . . . " she breathed out, and then her eyes widened. "Harry!" she croaked. "What . . .? Is he . . .?!"

"He's alive," the doctor stated. "Save for a scar over the right eye where the curse was believed to hit, he's not hurt." A smirk. "That's according to the special edition of the Daily Prophet that just came out around noon today." A sigh. "Right now, I suspect your son is currently at Hogwarts under Poppy Pomfrey's care, as well as Albus Dumbledore's." He closed his eyes. "Before you worry more about him . . . "

"I'm dying."

He stopped, staring at her, and then he nodded. Hamilton had been quick to sense that his patient's words were not a question but a statement. "I'm afraid so."

She blinked. "Did I do something wrong . . .?"

"I can't say," the healer replied, shrugging. "I don't have access to whatever you used to set up the protection that saved your son -- and did in Riddle as well, by the way -- but I'm afraid that within about five months or so, you will expire."

Lily stared at him for a moment, and then she shuddered. "I was prepared to die," she admitted. "I had to die . . . it was the only way . . . to save Harry."

"You succeeded. But there was another life that had to be saved as well."

She blinked. "Who . . .?"

Hamilton smiled. "Lily . . . you're pregnant."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

And then . . .

"Wh-wh-what . . .?" Lily stammered before her eyes rolled into her head.

He gazed on her, and then he sighed. "She took that well," he mused . . .

* * *

Beckery Hill, Monday 2 November 1981 . . .

"Mistress?"

A moan. "Wh-where . . .?"

"Are you alright, Mistress?"

Green eyes fluttered once more, this time opening to gaze on a roof of solid flagstone over her head. The glowing lights of torches shone at the periphery of her vision. As Lily felt her lungs draw in air, she then blinked on seeing a face loom over her. A face that made her jaw drop in stunned disbelief.

It was her own.

"Wh-wh-who . . .?"

The other her raised up her finger to her lip as she shushed the gasping woman now on a bed in the middle of the master bedroom of Reevetor Somerset. "Don't exert yourself, Mistress," she advised in that eerie voice of hers. "You're in the Master's bedroom in his home now. You'll stay here for now and we'll take care of you."

Silence.

Lily blinked. "You're a house elf . . . "

A nod. "Yes. My master called me 'Lilian' in your honour, Mistress Lily."

A blink. "Who's your master?"

Hearing that, Lilian's eyes teared. "Master Glaston . . . "

She squeezed her eyes shut as her hands flew up to her face and she began to cry. Immediately, another woman -- one Lily was quick to recognise as the elf that had popped into the Potter cottage when Glaston and Hamilton had been there -- came up to gently guide the weeping Lilian away from her. At that moment, another woman with brown hair and brown eyes behind reading glasses, dressed in what seemed to be a maid's uniform, came up to her. "Please don't be mad at Lilian, Mistress Lily." Lily was quick to see the tears in her eyes. "She just came to us a short while ago. And now that Master Glaston is d-d-dead . . . " The tears began to flow. "She's just f-feeling very s-sad right now." A sniff. "I'm sorry, Mistress Lily . . . "

Lily's jaw dropped. "Sir Glaston's dead?!" she gasped. "What happened?"

A deep sniff from the maid. "Well, t-two nights a-ago when th-the Dark Lord came to you . . . " A sniff. "Master Glaston was there. And he kn-knew from Master Hamilton th-that your were pregnant w-w-with a child." Another sniff. "And s-so he took a spell h-h-he learned from th-the Traveller . . . and he gave up all h-h-his magic and his l-l-life to save your baby!" Another sniff. "I'm sorry, Mistress Lily . . . "

Taking that in, Lily blinked several times as her mind tried to wrap around THAT concept, and then another pained moan escaped her before she passed out.

"AH! MISTRESS LILY!"

* * *

Beckery Hill, Tuesday 3 November 1981 . . .

"Hey, Tiger Lily. You still in there?"

Where was she . . .?

"I hate this . . . " she groaned.

A wry chuckle. "If I was in your shoes right now, Lils, I wouldn't blame you."

Lily's mind quickly locked in on that voice, her eyes opening. "Chessy . . .?"

She blinked as a familiar face loomed over her. "Hey, Tiger Lily!" Napaeae Runcorn said with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

A sigh. "My nose itches."

Napaeae grinned as she moved to scratch it. "Other than that?"

A moan. "Thanks . . . " Lily then tried to shift her arms and move herself. This time, her body didn't respond. "Why can't I move . . .?"

"Hamilton's put a full-body bind on you," Napaeae replied. "Lils, you're the first person ever to have been hit at the same time by both an Avada Kedavra and a Desidero Infantis spell. No one has any IDEA what to do now, except make sure that your baby is alright." On seeing Lily slowly nod in understanding, the other woman took a deep breath. "Lily, I've got a question. Who was your secret keeper?"

A blink. "Secret keeper . . .?"

"For the Fidelius over Godric's Hollow?"

Silence.

"I . . . " Lily's eyes then widened, and then her mouth fluttered. "I . . . "

Napaeae took that in, and then she sighed. "I see."

"I . . . it was . . . " Lily then shook her head. "I'm sorry, Napaeae . . . "

"Hey, don't worry about it," the other woman stated. She had come to Beckery Hill after learning of what happened in Birmingham earlier in the day. There, Sirius Black had been caught by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after a battle with Peter Pettigrew where the latter had been killed, to say anything of twelve normal bystanders dying thanks to a blasting hex. The Ministry of Magic had been quick to arrest the deranged wizard and send him straight to Azkaban.

And that didn't count what just happened at the Longbottom mansion . . .

But Lily didn't need to hear that right now.

Lily gazed on her old schoolmate. "So what happens now . . .?"

Napaeae grimaced. "Well, right now, we do all we can to keep you and your baby alive. You're in a place where the Ministry can't trace you down. And since this IS the first time the Desidero Infantis was used, we don't want to risk telling them about it. Things at the Ministry are a bloody mess right now." A shrug. "It's to be expected in that case. Riddle had you all on the ropes and he was about to deliver the final blow before he came after Harry." A sigh. "They need time to recover."

Lily blinked. "What about Harry?"

Another deep sigh. "He's at Hogwarts." That was a lie, of course, but Napaeae didn't want to burden Lily with more worries. "Albus is taking care of him."

"Can't you tell him what happened to me?"

Napaeae gazed at her, and then she shook her head. "I'm really sorry about this. Albus is part of the Ministry because he's in the Wizengamot, Lils. Until such time as Her Majesty gives us the right to tell him about what happened to you, then as far as he's concerned, your dead and your body's gone missing."

Silence.

"The Queen . . .?"

A nod. "Yes. Glaston, myself and many others have sworn ourselves magically to her direct service. We're known as Her Majesty's Magical Shire Reeves of the Realm. The Magical Sheriffs, if you ever read those old children's stories about them."

Lily blinked. "I thought we were all separated . . . even from her . . . "

A shake of the head. "No. All wizards and witches born in this country are the Queen's subjects, just like the normal subjects who live in this country." Napaeae took a deep breath. "Many in wizarding society just find it very convenient to forget that fact. Much less the fact that the Queen can literally order the disbanding of the Wizengamot and the Ministry if she felt it right and proper."

Lily's eyes widened. "Really?"

A nod. "Yeah. But don't worry about it. Her Majesty does understand the fears a lot of people have about normals learning about wizards. That's part of the reason we exist. We help maintain the separation." A sigh. "At the same time, though, we also know that the Ministry doesn't cover everything. So we get involved."

Silence.

"Romney Marsh, you mean?"

A nod. "The people there had elected to form their own community away from other wizarding communities. They didn't like being seen as a coven of 'mudbloods' dirtying up 'respectable' communities such as Hogsmeade and Ottery Saint Catchpole." A wry smirk. "What did you expect from a pack of mudbrains, anyway?!"

Lily's eyes widened in shock, and then she laughed until her body was wracked with a storm of coughs. Immediately, Napaeae moved to comfort as Lily's eyes closed and her mind once more slipped into blissful unconsciousness . . .

* * *

And time began to march on . . .

As the wizarding world began to recover and take stock of what had happened at Godric's Hollow on Hallowe'en night, Lily Potter drifted in and out of consciousness as she remained in the master bedroom of the Reevetor Somerset, waking to be cared for by a sextet of human-shaped elves who were ready to do everything to make her comfortable. Not to mention being monitored by Hamilton St. John, who did everything he could to try to find some way to keep Lily alive after her child was born -- the due date was sometime the following March -- so that she could care for her and find a way to get her son back.

Despite the elements of memory that had been lost when she had been struck down by the Killing Curse -- which was understandable given the temporary shutdown of her whole nervous system when it struck her -- Lily began to show signs of recovery by the end of November. She was confined to a magical wheelchair, though, which had been created by Hamilton with help from Glaston's elves -- who were pretty much treating her as their new mistress -- so that she could get around the Reevetor, even go up and down the stairs to the various levels and get out onto the lawn so she could get fresh air and discover what was hidden in this place that she had never heard of before.

And when she went OUTSIDE the Reevetor . . .!

Even for someone who had lived a decade in the wizarding world, who and what now lived around Beckery Hill had been quite the eye-opener to her.

A village of magical inhabitants whose breadth and variety had totally taken her by surprise. Among the beings that lived in the "Reevewick Somerset" -- she had been told all the titles and what they meant by Napaeae Runcorn on a series of visits following Lily's move to Beckery Hill -- were a herd of centaurs who inhabited the small forest to the west and south of the Hill. Unlike those she once encountered in the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts, this herd was led by a very polite fellow named Cyllarus and his equally lovely mate, Hylonome. Much to Lily's shock, the couple had been pleased to use their divination powers to predict that her daughter -- the sex was determined by magical scan at the start of December -- would be born on Saint Patrick's Day in 1982, which pleased Lily a lot; she was part-Irish through her mother's family and was glad that her baby would come into the world on such an auspicious day.

In discussing that, something else was mentioned . . .

* * *

Beckery Hill, Saturday 19 December 1981 . . .

"You will not live to see your child grow up, I am afraid," Cyllarus warned.

Hearing that, Lily -- whose wheelchair was now poised in the glen to the east of the Hill - nodded, wrapping the knit scarf around her throat as she gazed upon a vast circular patio at least ninety metres in diameter, taking up most of the space in the magically warded-off area of Beckery Hill, right almost to the west side of Middle Drove, which was one road to the west of the urban part of Glastonbury. The patio came complete with seventy-two seven metre-tall, three metre-wide sets of solid marble trilithons -- a modern version of Stonehenge, Lily had concluded when she first laid eyes on it -- ringing its outer edge, each of the marble slabs etched with runes of a complexity she had never seen before.

Taking a deep breath, Lily then nodded. "I know."

"You're brave to accept what has happened to you," Hylonome said.

A wry grin. "As soon as I heard that prophecy for the first time in Albus' office, I knew my life expectancy would be shortened," Lily admitted. "But it helped me focus. It helped me make sure that when the time came, Harry would be safe." She knew that Harry was now living with her sister and brother-in-law, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had been declared dead by the Ministry even if her body had not been found in the wreckage of the Potter cottage at Godric's Hollow and having her suddenly show up alive at the front porch of the Dursley home -- she could not remember exactly where they lived (another element of memory lost when she had been struck by the Killing Curse) -- would cause all sorts of problems for too many people. And such could threaten her daughter's future.

The world that Glaston Tore had been part of was much more open and accepting than mainstream wizarding society.

She wanted her baby girl to be part of THAT world.

Not the one Lily Potter had lived in for a decade.

Not the one she had married into three years ago.

Not the one where she had been called "mudblood."

And targeted for death because her parents had been normal people.

THAT world, she now realised, was dying.

THIS world her daughter would be born into was alive and vibrant.

That made it acceptable to her.

Harry was safe for the time being.

And when the time did come, Harry would be united with his sister.

And they would both have a future.

Together.

* * *

November flowed into December and then into the year 1982.

As the wizarding world began to make a steady recovery from the Purification War, life began to return to normal for many people. Death Eater trials were quick and swift, especially for those who never repented their beliefs in blood purity and the elimination of all normal-borns wizards and witches. Chief amongst them were Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus and his brother Rabastan -- along with the junior Bartemius Crouch, son of the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and one who fought hard to bring down the Death Eaters -- for their attack on the Longbottom mansion in the wake of the Dark Lord's fall. That had left Frank and Alice Longbottom in near-comas and their son Neville effectively orphaned, left in the custody of his grandmother Augusta. What was worse, Alice was discovered to be pregnant with a daughter. In learning that, people realised one tragic thing: The daughter of Alice Longbottom, a woman exposed to the Cruciatus to the point of near-insanity, would most likely be born a squib and never follow her parents into Hogwarts.

In a hideous show of vengeance, the senior Barty Crouch would declare that Bellatrix -- who had been discovered to be pregnant herself with a baby due sometime in April of the new year, which shocked EVERYONE as she had been badly roughed up by the Aurors when they caught her at the Longbottoms -- would be made to give birth to her child in Azkaban. As that decision sent waves throughout the wizarding world, the Director of the D.M.L.E. would release this statement in the Daily Prophet sometime before the turn of the year: "A fine couple who fought hard and well against the forces of the Dark may never leave Saint Mungo's again, be there as their son grows up and takes his place in our world. What is worse, a child yet to be born will never be cared for by her parents. Never discover the joys of magic and stand with her fellow wizards and witches to give joy to her family and our world. I think it's perfectly reasonable to force the monsters that did that to such a fine couple to give birth to their own child in nearly the same way. Exposure to Dementors has the same affect on newborn children as the Cruciatus Curse. If Alice's daughter will be born a squib, then so shall Bellatrix's. That's one LESS monster to fight for the Dark!"

Screams for pity and mercy to the unborn Lestrange -- also discovered to be a girl -- came from all directions, but would not move either Barty or his boss, Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold. Finally, Albus Dumbledore interceded directly by secretly meeting with Bellatrix's younger sister Narcissa Malfoy -- she herself pregnant with a girl that would be born sometime either in late April or early May of 1982 -- to vow that he would be at Azkaban to help shield Bellatrix and her baby from the Dementors, then ensure said child would be given over the Malfoys to be raised. Narcissa, who was quite overjoyed at the fact that she was carrying a second child, was more than happy to agree. "Even if she does become a squib, she must know of our society and be part of us," she vowed to the headmaster. "I will raise her as she was my own."

"I believe we may be in for more surprises," Albus then told her.

Narcissa nodded in understanding. Having one child with her husband had been wonderful. Having TWO children with him had been nothing short of a miracle . . .

* * *

Lily Potter would remained confined in her wheelchair as she watched her stomach and the precious life within it grow. As time marched on, Hamilton St. John saw her every day, doing his best to determine if it was possible to keep her alive once the baby -- she had elected on a name for the child, but was staying mum over it -- was born and the effects of the Lost Child spell would drain from her body. While he tried his best to be upbeat about her chances, she could read between the lines. Her chances were well to the left of "very slim," so she began to dedicate her energies in preparing things for her baby girl's future without her, both as a witch and as Her Majesty's future Magical Shire Reeve for the Loyal County of Somerset.

Here, Lilian became an indispensable assistant as she helped get things together for her mistress. Since the basement of the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow had remained intact -- the house itself was pretty much ruined and had been left abandoned -- Lilian had been able to recover Lily's old school trunk, which contained all her magical notes, her post-graduate studies in Charms that might have given her a mastery in the subject hadn't the Purification War got in the way, not to mention her studies in potions and ancient runes. Once she had that in hand, Lily began to spend time deciphering the runes of the Scrying Room, Glaston Tore's base for keeping watch on all things within the limits of Somerset on behalf of the Queen. By the time the year turned over, she believed she had discovered enough to use the room . . .

. . . and prepare her legacy.

* * *

Beckery Hill, Saturday 9 January 1982 . . .

"Lilian?"

Lilian perked as she looked up from the notes she had been taken from her mistress' dictation to see Lily now at the window of the living room, gazing out into the glen, the Garden of the Galaxy -- Lily had yet to understand what the name of the patio with its strange trilithons meant -- and the evening lights of Glastonbury beyond. It was well past nightfall, the full moon shining down on the Somerset Levels. In the background, the howls of werewolves could be heard; atop Nancy Snagge, there were now five other former Aurors who had fallen to the claws of Fenrir Greyback during the war with Voldemort and had relocated here. All six were now in a special containment shed in the Reevewick to await the morning and a day at Hamilton St. John's clinic recovering from their monthly ordeal. "What is it, Lily?"

Lily smiled; she had finally got the human-shaped elf to finally stop calling her "Mistress" (though she had yet to make headway with the others in the Reevetor). "You realise that once I'm gone, you will be, in effect, my baby's mother."

Lilian blinked, and then she sighed as she stood up and walked over to stand beside the crippled, pregnant and dying witch. "Lily, no one will be that girl's mother other than you!" she said. "Yes, I know that I look like you, but still . . . "

A hand reached over to gently grasp hers, making Lilian fall silent as she knelt beside Lily. "I know that. But still, I want my baby to look on someone to be her mother. I've already decided Doctor St. John will be the godfather, but still . . . "

"Couldn't you ask Mistress Nancy to be her godmother?"

A sigh. "She will be. But given her monthly 'furry problem' . . . "

In almost perfect timing to that statement, another howl split through the night air. "That's a good point," Lilian noted as she gazed out the window, and then she turned back to stare at Lily. "But still, I'm an elf, Lily! Yes, I think I'm getting used to living as a human and behaving as a human, but still . . . " She shrugged. "What happens when the baby starts developing magic? Human magic and elf magic are as different as day is from night! How can I train her in using her magic before she goes to Hogwarts and gets formal training? She'll be upset that she won't be able to snap her fingers and pop-teleport wherever she wants to go! What happens then?!"

"I know." Lily reached over to pat the elf's knee. "But I think there's a way to give you the knowledge you would need to expect what will happen."

Silence.

"How?"

Lily sighed. "For that, we need the Scrying Room . . . "

* * *

And so the winter of 1982 marched on towards spring.

By the time the New Year had come, Millicent Bagnold had released a message through the Daily Prophet proclaiming that the Purification War was finally in the past. "We have walked through a time of great darkness," she declared in her special editorial that went out on the New Year's Day edition of the Prophet. "We have sustained losses of unprecedented magnitude, both in lives and in knowledge. But we have prevailed in the end. The Darkness has been chased back into the shadows, never again to haunt us. Let's look to the future in the Light, a future that will be dedicated to the losses of the past and a vow that this will never happen again."

Of course, many people were capable of reading between the lines. While many who had fought for the Dark Lord wound up in Azkaban -- chief amongst them being the Betrayer himself, Sirius Black, for what he had done that made Harry Potter an orphan -- others who had been caught with the Dark Mark imprinted on their arms had gone free after vociferously claiming, "I was under the Imperius! I was FORCED to serve the Dark Lord! I would never do THAT to the muggleborns!"

Chief amongst those who used "the Imperius defence" was Lucius Malfoy, who -- on being absolved of all charges of fighting for and financing Voldemort's war -- claimed his family's seat in the Wizengamot and became a political and social force to be reckoned with. Thanks also to many charitable contributions from his very own vaults, Lucius soon earned a reputation -- especially among the members of the Wizengamot and various departments in the Ministry -- as a man who was the person one needed on his or her side to advance his/her career. He would soon ally with the junior minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Cornelius Fudge, promoting him among friends and allies as a potential future Minister for Magic. Atop that, Lucius' contributions would soon win him a coveted place on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, which placed him administratively in charge of Albus Dumbledore and gave him a very prominent place to influence the lives of growing wizards and witches now striving to finish their lessons and take their place in society.

That would have potentially tragic circumstances in the distant future.

But most people in the wizarding world weren't thinking about the distant future. More immediate events held greater places of prominence, especially when it came to birthing the next generation of wizards and witches to allow the population to rebound from the bloodbaths of the previous decade. A mini-baby boom had begun in the wake of Voldemort's fall as people pushed themselves away from thoughts of simply surviving to see the next day to guaranteeing a legacy for themselves, their families and their prodigy.

It soon came to the point where the headmaster of Hogwarts, in a very jovial mood one day, declared in the Wizengamot that, "With the rate the Roll Book is adding new names to the list, I dare say that we may soon have to consider EXPANDING the campus at Hogwarts so we can take all those people in!"

Many loudly cheered that statement.

But in one place in Somerset, cheers would be mixed with sorrow.

* * *

Beckery Hill, Wednesday 17 March 1982 . . .

"Now push, Lily! The baby's starting to move!"

"I AM pushing, Doctor!" Lily screamed before a jolt of hard pain ripped through her body at the terrible abuse it was currently enduring. She had been in labour for the last three hours, keeping most of the Reevewick up as the people who lived there waited for news on what was happening with their current guest. "Damn . . .!"

"Easy! Easy!" Nancy Snagge said as she rubbed the panting woman's forehead as everyone busied themselves around her. Atop the werewolf -- Lily had, in the last couple of months, caught onto the normal term applied to people like Nancy at Beckery Hill and among the other Reevetors and Reevewicks throughout Britain, "lunar canine therianthrope" -- the pregnant witch also had Napaeae Runcorn at her side to be there as the baby was being born. "Just a couple more times, Lils! You're doing it!"

"I . . . I . . . I KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW . . .!" Lily then screamed out as she gave one good push on her muscles.

"Good! The head's starting to clear!" Hamilton said as his fingers danced over the glowing pentagram floating over his patient's crotch. "Take a deep breath and try again, Lily! We're almost there! A deep breath and push!"

Lily groaned as she took several shallow breaths, and then she breathed in deep before giving another push. "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE!" she wailed as she felt something move very quickly between her legs, and then she gasped.

"There! Okay, the head's clear!" Hamilton then whispered a spell.

Instantly, the wail of a baby echoed all throughout the clinic. Hearing that, Lily cried out in relief as she felt Nancy and Napaeae hug her. "How is she?!" she then pleaded. "Is she alright, Doctor?! Tell me! Is she . . .!"

Her voice then faded into another scream as she felt her muscles move once more. "And there we go!" Hamilton declared as he moved to gently cradle the wailing baby in his arms, lifting her up so that Lily could see her. "You have a very healthy baby girl, Mrs. Potter! Congratulations!" he said as people around them whooped.

Staring at her, Lily blinked as her eyes began to cloud over. "Rose Jamie . . . " she whispered as she felt the strength in her body fade. "Rose Jamie . . . "

Hamilton nodded. "Florence!"

"Recording the name and time of birth now, Master," Hamilton's elf nurse said as she wrote it down on a piece of parchment. "Rose Jamie Potter, born at 5:18 AM."

Hearing that, Lily stared at her daughter as she began to feel something pull at her. "I love you, my beautiful baby," she whispered as her eyes closed.

Lily . . .

"Hamilton! Something's happening to her!"

Lily . . .

"Dear God! Florence, take the child!"

"Yes, Master!"

Lily . . .

"Lily! Oh, Merlin! Lily, hang on!"

"Her pulse has stopped!"

C'mon, Lily . . . it's time for the game . . .

Her mouth widened into a smile as the light loomed before her closed eyes.

"Oh, James . . . I want to stay under the trees . . . "

We'll always be there, Lily . . .

"Lily!"

"Dear God! All her body functions are shutting down! Stand clear!"

She couldn't feel the spells fall on her as she ran into the light . . .

"LILY!"

* * *

Buckingham Palace . . .

"Your Majesty, announcing the presence of Your Majesty's Magical Shire Reeve for the Loyal County of London, Sir Xavier Hogan Roper."

"Thank you. You may go."

The butler bowed, and then he marched out. The Queen was standing by the window of her office, gazing onto the courtyard. Also present, Hogan was quick to notice, was the Archbishop of Canterbury, the administrative head of the Church of England and the spiritual leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion. "What news, Sir Xavier?"

Hogan took a breath, and then he bowed. "Your Majesty, it is my pleasure to announce the birth of Your Majesty's Magical Shire Reeve (Presumptive) of the Loyal County of Somerset, the Dame Rose Jamie Potter, at five-eighteen this morning at the clinic of Doctor Hamilton St. John in Your Majesty's Loyal Reevewick of Somerset."

Silence fell. "We are pleased. And the Dame Rose's mother?"

Hogan closed his eyes. "With profound regret, I must also inform you that the Dame Rose's mother, the Lady Lily Elizabeth Potter, passed into the next life not two minutes after the Dame Rose was born, Your Majesty. Her death, as far as Doctor St. John could determine, was painless and she was at peace when it happened."

The Queen closed her eyes. "Unto Your Hands, Oh Lord, we commend such a brave woman's spirit," she whispered as she bowed her head. "Robert?"

The Archbishop tensed. "We will all pray for her, Your Majesty."

"Thank you." A sigh. "Sir Xavier?"

Hogan tensed. "Ma'am?"

"We will attend the Lady Lily's burial beside her late husband in Godric's Hollow when Doctor St. John is ready to commend her remains to the earth," the Queen stated. She knew that even with Rose's birth, the power of the Kokujun in Somerset had not been officially versed into the person of the presumptive Magical Sheriff of the County; that could only be done when the Queen would knight the child many years hence, when she gained her OWLs after five years of study at Hogwarts. "From that point onward, the gravesite and the Potter family cottage are to be totally sealed off under the power of the Shield of Our Realm. They are not to be violated ever again unless Dame Rose or her brother -- when they are mature enough to understand -- allow it."

A deep bow. "It will be as you desire, Your Majesty."

* * *

Godric's Hollow, Friday 19 March 1982 . . .

Ever since the previous Hallowe'en, the site of the Potter cottage and the place where James Potter's mortal remains had been interred -- it was in a lovely grove near the cottage atop a small knoll, on which stood a statue of he and his wife (Lily holding Harry) to mark that place -- had become something of a place of pilgrimage for visitors from all over Britain and beyond. It was an understandable reaction to the events of Hallowe'en 1981, of course. While Harry Potter's current location had been kept secret from the wizarding world at large -- many in places like Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley had come to accept that the chances were there that those who still believed in You-Know-Who's cause might try to seek him out and kill him in vengeance -- the place where he performed his great deed was certainly no secret.

The Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland didn't care for that this crisp spring morning when she, along with her husband the Duke of Edinburgh, stood before the freshly dug grave beside James Potter's resting place, a casket having been lowered into it moments before. As a piper -- John Dumfries, the Magical Sheriff of the old Scottish county of Bute on the shores of the Firth of Clyde -- played Amazing Grace after the Archbishop of Canterbury had given Lily Potter last rites and several of the more traditionally-minded Magical Sheriffs had blessed the grave using ancient Celtic rites to keep the evil spirits away before the grave was sealed, she exchanged a knowing look with her husband before walking over to where a red-haired, green-eyed house elf in human form now stood, a bundle of joy in her arms. She was currently accompanied by five other house elves (also in human form) and six werewolves that formed the local militia of the Reevewick Somerset.

As she approached them, all the men bowed while all the women curtseyed. "Hello, Miss Evans," the Queen said as she approached Lilian Elizabeth Evans. "I trust things aren't too cold for young Rose this day?"

"No, Your Majesty," Lilian said as she gazed sadly on the now-sleeping girl. "Doctor St. John made sure all her blankets and clothes had warming charms on them." It had been a brisk day throughout most of England. "Ma'am, may I ask you something?"

A nod. "You may."

"Why do this?"

The Queen gazed on her, and then she said, "Walk with me."

The two walked back towards the gravesite. "The people your kind -- your Tribe, if I may -- have been made to serve are sometimes a very ignorant lot when it comes to seeing all that is before them," the Queen stated as she watched the grave be covered in dirt, the sod replaced and layers of protective charms placed over the gravesite to ensure it would never be violated. "Their possession of magic gives them enormous power and capability. But I sometimes believe that having that power and capability at their beck and call blinds them at times. While Rose's mother was still with you, she explained to you of all the work she did to keep her son safe, did she not?"

A nod. "Yes, ma'am, she did."

"Has the Ministry recognised those efforts?"

A shake of the head. "No, ma'am, they didn't. It seems as if that the instant they learned Harry survived what the Dark Lord tried to do, that's all that mattered to them. It was Harry who was the true hero of the hour, not his mother."

"And that, in my eyes, is wrong," the Queen stated. "That is why we are doing this. Since those people refuse to acknowledge Lily's actions publicly over what she did to save them from Riddle, then I will not allow them to come here and turn this place into a memorial while believing something that is, if not a total lie, at least a gross over-simplification of what happened on Hallowe'en evening last." She indicated the sleeping Rose. "To her, it is not some grand battle against the forces of Darkness that saved her home society. To her, it is simple: Mother is dead. And while I know how much Lily prepared you to take her place, Lilian, that is one inescapable truth that will haunt Rose -- and Harry when he comes to join her -- for a long time."

Lilian considered that, and then she gazed on the headstone:

Here lies

LILY ELIZABETH POTTER, G.C.

30 January 1960 - 17 March 1981

She died for the betterment of All

Underneath that inscription was engraved the insignia of the George Cross.

Gazing at that, Lilian could only sigh before she gazed on Rose before looking back on the grave before her. Seeing that insignia there, reading the post-nominals G.C. behind Lily Potter's full married name, she then felt a frown cross her face. "I can understand that, ma'am," she then said as she gazed on the Queen.

"Then please do this," the older woman said. "As you are raising her, make sure that Rose understands what will one day be called of her. Make her understand that when it comes time for her to interact with her father's society, she must rise above all factions. To learn how to treat them all with fairness and without prejudice, bowing not to any particular group or species." The Queen then sighed. "And if it ultimately must come to that, Rose must be prepared to JUDGE without prejudice."

Lilian blinked, and then she nodded. "It will be as you say, Your Majesty."

The Queen nodded . . .

* * *

In the days after Lily was physically reunited with her husband, people living in and visiting Godric's Hollow, whenever their course brought them close to the site of the Potter cottage, would find an empty field before them where there was a burnt shell of a beautiful home and a simple memorial to a lost couple. Before they could contemplate what happened, they would feel their thoughts turn away from seeking the place of pilgrimage to the downfall of the Dark Lord and go about their business, never thinking again about violating the peace of this place ever again.

And never would they speak of it to anyone they met . . .

* * *

Time continued to march on . . .

Among the new generation being born throughout the wizarding world in 1982 -- and even within the normal world that Fate would decree would find their way into the wizarding world within a decade -- were five beautiful girls:

Cameron Charlotte Crabbe actually proceeded Rose Potter into this world by eleven days. As was tradition for her family -- who could trace their ancestry all the way back to the eleventh century and a cadet line of the House of Slytherin -- she had been born in the Crabbe mansion in the wizarding section of Aldeburgh, on the coast of Suffolk overlooking the North Sea. The firewhiskey flowed freely that evening at the Crabbe mansion as friends of the very happy parents, Vincent and Helena, loudly and lustily celebrated the first second-child birth in their family in six generations.

The day after Lily's burial, Rio Ariel Goyle, the second child -- and the first second-born child in THAT family for FIVE generations! -- of Lance and Phillipa Goyle of the Goyles of Hampton Loade in Shropshire was born. Like their friends the Crabbes, the Goyles went all out to celebrate their pride and joy with a party that made the gossip pages of the Daily Prophet and even had Teen Witch Weekly -- a publication that wouldn't concern Ariel (as she would soon elect to call herself) for years -- to begin predicting who would claim her hand in marriage when she became of age.

On the twelfth of April, on an island in the North Sea well to the east of the Shetlands, Cassiopeia Ursula Lestrange was welcomed into the world in the seldom-used medical centre of Azkaban Prison. As he promised Narcissa Malfoy months before, Albus Dumbledore was there, using a Patronus to keep the excited Dementors away from the newborn child, making sure she was taken clear before any of the soul-eating wraiths could have their way with her. Much to Albus' surprise and delight, Bellatrix -- who certainly had more than enough reason to hate the man -- muttered a tearful "Thank you!" to him as he whisked Cassiopeia off to be with her relatives.

On the fourth of May, Cassiopeia was joined by her cousin, Raven Chandra Malfoy, who was painlessly delivered by her mother at Malfoy Manor near Carlisle in Cumbria. The top healers of Saint Mungo's -- who were more than happy to come over at Lucius' beckoning thanks to his many contributions to their facility in the last year -- were in attendance to ensure the newest member of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Malfoy was born amid the magics of their ancestral keep. The party that was then thrown in the wake of Raven's arrival was a double celebration, attended by all the friends of the Lestranges as well as the Malfoys as toasts were hoisted to the Dark Lord's memory and vows made to continue the crusade they had launched years before.

Finally, Grace Augusta Longbottom was born on the second of June at Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to a current resident of the Janus Thickey Ward, the home for patients who had incurable spell damage to their bodies or minds. Much to the relief of the healers, Alice Longbottom had not died due to complications in the birth of a daughter that was named by her own mother-in-law from a list Frank had compiled of names for future children before that awful November night. Still, the silence that came from the nearly-comatose former Auror had clearly unnerved all of the healers attending her birth.

No one would notice how special these girls were -- much less the bonds they would all be discovered to possess with each other, as well as one unknown to all -- for years to come . . .

* * *

To be continued . . .