If Lily Lived by faded memories
Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***
An AU fic exploring the possibility of Lily living. **DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS**
Rating: PG-13
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2007.08.28
Updated: 2007.11.25
Index
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Coming Home
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived
Author's Notes: I will post about one chapter for every 3 or 4 chapters of The Philosopher's Stone
It was October 31st, 1981, and all was quiet in the sleepy little village of Godric’s Hollow, so no one was awake to see a man in black robes appear outside a small cottage. The man, whose name was Voldemort, walked into the cottage. The family sitting on the couch looked up. Seeing Voldemort, they ran upstairs. Voldemort followed them, intending to kill only the young boy, Harry Potter. When Voldemort found the family huddled in a bedroom, he drew a long, thin wand from inside his robes. The other adults did the same.
Voldemort looked at the woman with thinly disguised disgust. “I'll let you go, Mudblood, if you just give me the boy.”
The woman, whose name was Lily, ran in front of her son, protecting him. Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Lily. Just as the curse left Voldemort’s lips, Lily’s husband, James, stood in front of her. “Lily- I love you. Take Harry and-” Before he could finish, there was a flash of green light, and James was lying unmoving on the floor.
“NO! JAMES!” Lily screamed.
Voldemort just smiled and launched another curse at her. Lily ducked, and the curse missed her. She didn’t pull her son down quickly enough, and the curse hit him in the head. The boy, however, did not die. The curse rebounded and hit Voldemort, who promptly blew up. Lily sat on the floor and cried for a while, holding Harry. A few hours later, Lily packed several trunks and stepped into her fireplace. She pulled out a package of green powder and threw it into the fireplace. “Severus Snape’s house!” she shouted. With a puff of flames, she disappeared and reappeared in a small and shabby house. She stepped out of the grate and shook herself off. “Sevvy? Are you home? It’s Lily,” she called.
Her name was the magic word, and a thin man with greasy black hair came pounding down the stairs and enveloped Lily in a hug.
“Where’s James?” he asked. When Lily began crying, he frowned. “What’s wrong, Lily?”
“You-Know-Who killed him. A second curse hit Harry, but he didn’t die. He has a scar that’s bleeding really badly, though. Could you help? Is it all right if I stay here a while?”
Severus hugged Lily and agreed. “It’s been hard since I left the Death Eaters, but I have a nest egg in Gringott’s.”
Lily nodded and said, “So do I.”
Lily ended up staying with Severus for longer than she had intended. She had missed the company of her first wizard friend. One night, as they were sitting by the fire, Severus looked at Lily and said, “Don’t you miss the old days sometimes?”
Lily turned to Severus and said, “That’s exactly what I was thinking! You're not using Legilimency against me, are you?”
Severus smiled and said, “No, I was not using Legilimency against you. I’ve just known you since you were eight.”
Lily smiled and said, “I wonder what House Harry is going to get Sorted into at Hogwarts,” Lily said.
Severus looked at lily quizzically. “Surely you can’t be thinking about Hogwarts now? He’s only two.”
“I was just wondering. Don’t you remember when we were little? We were always talking about Hogwarts and magic and Houses?”
Snape gave a small smile and said, “Of course.”
Over the years, a romance blossomed between Severus and Lily. The summer Harry turned five, they were married.
The wedding was a quiet affair, with only Lily’s family and friends in attendance. Snape did not invite anyone, because his whole family were Death Eaters, and almost everyone hated him for it.
The dress Lily wore was a masterpiece that took Madam Malkin and her assistants three months to make with the help of one of the most famous wizard tailors of all time, Jacques Marlenge. When Lily stepped onto the aisle on her wedding day, there was a collective gasp from the attendees. Even Dumbledore, acting as the father of the bride, was astonished.
The man presiding was a short, impatient man. He rushed through the wedding, and slowed down for the vows only when Lily asked him to. “Do you, Severus Snape take Lily Potter to be your lawfully wedded wife until death do us part?”
Severus looked solemnly at Lily and said, “I do.”
The man turned to Lily and said, “Do you, Lily Potter, take Severus Snape as your lawfully wedded husband until death do us part?”
Lily looked up at Severus and smiled. “I d-”
Before she could finish, there was a flash of green light, and Lily fell to the floor, dead. Severus looked up and saw none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. She smiled. “That teaches you to marry a filthy blood traitor, Snape!” She Disapparated.
“Mum!” Harry cried. He ran over to his mother. “Don’t leave me Mummy. Don’t go! Not like Daddy!”
Severus tore Harry away from his mother’s body and held him close. “Shh… be quiet, Harry.”
Harry stayed with Severus until Lily’s will was found. It had not been updated since before James died. In her will, Lily said that Harry was to go and live with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Snape was not sad to see Harry go because his green eyes haunted him and made him think of Lily.
Mrs. Dursley,
Your sister, Lily Snape (formerly Lily Potter) has just died. In her will, she named you as her son’s guardian. This is because of an enchantment protecting Harry, ensuring his safety. As long as he can call a place that has his mother’s blood in it “home,” he will be save from Voldemort, an evil wizard. Since you are her sister, he must stay with you. I ask you treat him as your own son.
Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Dear Petunia,
You may not remember me, but I am the person who first told Lily about magic. I recently married her. Would you please take care of her son for me?
Severus Snape
The Dursleys were not pleased to have Harry Potter living in their house, so they banished him to a little cupboard under the stairs. He was only allowed to come out to do various chores and to go to school.
The years with the Dursley s were torture for Harry. He knew about his magic, but he was forbidden to speak about it. He wasn’t allowed an owl, so he couldn’t write to anyone in the Wizarding World or even get a Daily Prophet. By his seventh birthday, Harry had almost completely forgotten about the Wizarding World. It was only in his dreams that he visited his favourite haunts: a special niche in Flourish & Blotts, a special couch in Florian and Fotiscue’s, the hidden room in Severus Snape’s house. During, the day, however, Harry did not allow himself to even think about magic.
Dudley, the Dursley boy was a short, fat boy the same age as Harry. His favourite pastime was torturing Harry. In one such incident, Harry ended up on the roof while being chased by Dudley. This got him into a lot of trouble, especially because he couldn’t- or wouldn’t- give an explanation as to why and how he landed on the roof.
Another remarkable incident occurred at Dudley’s eleventh birthday. The Dursleys had to bring Harry along, much to their discomfort. While they were in the reptile area at the zoo, Harry was caught hissing at a snake. Dudley pushed Harry aside to get a better look at the snake, who was hissing back. The glass between Dudley and the snake vanished, and Dudley fell into the enclosure. After the snake escaped from its enclosure, the glass reappeared, trapping Dudley. Mr. Dursley blamed Harry for the incident and shut him up in the cupboard under the stairs for a week.
One day in July, as he went to collect the post, Harry found a letter addressed to him. Harry slipped the letter into his cupboard before giving Mr. Dursley the other mail. After Harry finished his breakfast, he slipped into his cupboard to read the letter.
The letter was from a school called Hogwarts. As Harry read the letter, it all came back to him: his mother, her death, watching her perform magic and make potions. The letter said a representative from Hogwarts was going to arrive on July 31st. Harry shoved the letter into his pocket and ran out to the kitchen. “Uncle Vernon,” he said, addressing Mr. Dursley. “How come you never let me talk about my magic? You knew I was going to be a wizard. It’s impossible to squash it out of me. I’m going to school, and there’s noting you can do about it! HA!” Harry made a rude gesture in Mr. Dursley’s general direction, and then proceeded to dance around the house. He knew the Dursley s wouldn’t dare hurt him for fear of being cursed.
He went to bed smiling and woke up early the next morning. He was up, dressed, and sitting in front of the door by the time the Dursleys got up. When the doorbell rang, Harry leapt up and pulled it open with a huge smile. “Hello. Are you-” He broke off when he saw the gigantic man in front of him.
“Hello. How are yeh, Harry? I'm Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts. I'm here to get yeh ter Diagon Alley. Blimey, I can’t believe I'm ‘ere with Harry Potter. Le’s get goin’ then, shall we?”
The trip to Diagon Alley saw Harry pulling Hagrid to all his favourite shops. They practically flew between Flourish and Blott’s and Florian and Fortiscue’s and all the other shops in Diagon Alley.
When Harry calmed down, they went into Ollivander’s. Harry tried almost every wand in the shop before he found the perfect wand. Ollivander started muttering after Harry chose that wand. He told Harry that his wand’s twin killed his father and gave him his scar. Harry rubbed his scar, something he did when he was confused. “You mean, Voldemort-” he was cut of by a strangled noise coming from Hagrid. “Oh, all right. You mean You-Know-Who’s wand had a phoenix feather from the same phoenix as mine and also wood from the same tree?” Ollivander nodded, and Harry sat down, puzzled.
When he was done musing, he went on with his shopping. He got a good cauldron, his schoolbooks, and potion ingredients as well as his school robes. The final thing he bought was a snowy owl that he named Hedwig, after his mother’s favourite saint.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were not happy about Hedwig, but they didn’t give voice to any complaints because they were suddenly scared of Harry and anything that had to do with him.
When the time came for Harry to go to King’s Cross, the Dursley s did not accompany him. Instead, Hagrid came to fetch him. Hagrid dropped him off right outside the station and gave him a friendly shove. “Off yeh go then, Harry. I ‘spect I'll be seein’ yeh at Hogwarts.”
Harry waved and walked into the station, looking for platform 9¾. He could not see it, but he did catch a glimpse of a family of redheads. “Come on, Percy. You first. Quickly now, we don’t want the Muggles seeing anything.” The boy walked up to a barrier, but before Harry could see what he did to it, a group of French tourists stampeded in front of him, jabbering away in French. As soon as the tourists were gone, he wheeled his cart over to the family.
“Excuse me?” he said politely to the mother. “Could you tell me how to get onto Platform 9¾?”
She smiled. “You just walk straight at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Is it your first year at Hogwarts?” When Harry nodded, she smiled again. “It’s Ron’s first year, too.”
The boy beside her smiled. Harry smiled and turned to the only girl in the group. “Is it your first year, too?” he asked.
The girl shook her head. “I have to wait a year.” She made a face and held out her hand. “I’m Ginny Weasley. What’s your name?”
Harry took her hand and said, “Harry. Harry Potter.”
Her eyes widened. “Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?”
Harry smiled and said, “Yep. That’s the one.”
At the same time, Ginny’s mother scolded her for “gawking at Harry like he’s a zoo animal.”
Harry laughed and said, “I don’t mind. I don’t like it, but it’s part of being famous.”
Mrs. Weasley gave him a small smile before saying, “Go on, then. You don’t want to be late.”
Ginny smiled at Harry. “Good luck!”
Harry ran towards the barrier. He closed his eyes half-expecting to hit it. He did not, however. He emerged into a large crowd full of parents saying goodbye to their children. Harry hurtled headfirst into a large black train. Everyone turned to look at him, and Harry heard murmurs of, “Look ant that scar…” and “Could it be Harry Potter?” go through the crowd. Harry picked himself up and dusted his clothing off. He pointed his wand at his glasses and muttered, “Reparo.” It was a spell he had seen his mother use many times on his glasses. The glasses mended themselves seamlessly, and Harry stepped on to the train.
Harry sat down in the first empty compartment he found and stowed his luggage in the rack. Ron Weasley came into his compartment. “Can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full.”
Harry grinned. “Sure. I'm Harry Potter.”
Ron smiled. “I’m Ron Weasley, Ginny’s brother.”
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Coming Home
Author's Notes: Here it is!
The train passed by fields and forests as Harry and Ron talked. Ron told Harry about various things in the Wizarding World, and Harry told Ron about being a Muggle. Ron told Harry about Quidditch; in return, Harry described the sport of rugby. This exchange went on for hours, and was only interrupted two times.
The first was by a lady pushing a trolley of sweets. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”
Ron shook his head and held up a small sandwich. “I’m set, thanks.”
At the same time, Harry said, “I'll take the lot.” He pulled out a pile of gold, causing Ron’s eyes to widen considerably.
After Ron had gotten over Harry’s ample amount of gold, their conversation continued, only to be interrupted a few minutes later by a girl with frizzy hair. “Hello. I'm Hermione Granger. Has either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his.” Ron and Harry shook their heads in unison. When Harry shook his head, his bangs slipped away to reveal a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Hermione gasped and stepped into the compartment. “I know who you are. You're Harry Potter.” Harry nodded, and Hermione turned to Ron. “And you are?”
Ron said, “I'm Ron. Ron Weasley.”
“Nice meeting you, Ron, Harry. You should really be getting your robes on. I expect we’re almost there.” And, without another word, she walked out of the compartment.
Ron and Harry both burst out laughing. Between wheezes, Ron said, “‘I- know- who- you- are!’ she was- telling- you who- you- are, mate! Mental- I tell- you, mental!” He then succumbed to laughter.
A few hours later, the train pulled into the station, and Ron and Harry climbed off. They could see a swinging point of light moving slowly towards them. A gruff voice came from behind the light. “Firs’ years over ‘ere! Firs’ years, come with me.” The owner of the voice came into the lights at the station, and Harry saw it was Hagrid.
Ron’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell. What is that?”
Harry smiled. “That’s Hagrid. He helped me with my school shopping.” He turned to Hagrid. “Hello, Hagrid.”
“Hallo, Harry. Firs’ years, this way. Firs’ years, follow me.”
When all the first years were gathered around Hagrid, he led them to a large lake. Hagrid walked down the beach until he came to a small fleet of boats. “Six people to a boat, four other people in my boat.” Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a boy called Neville shared a boat with Hagrid.
Neville was a short, round-faced boy. He didn’t talk much, so Harry wasn’t able to get an impression of Neville’s personality. The only time Neville talked was to worry about what House he would get in. “Grandmother is going to be mad if I don’t get into Gryffindor,” was all he said the whole trip.
When they got to the other side of the lake, an enormous castle loomed up in front of them. It was brightly lit, but that did not stop Harry from feeling slightly intimidated by the sight of Hogwarts. The first years got out of the boats, shivering from the long ride to the castle. Hagrid opened the doors to the castle, and everyone gasped. The entrance hall was huge, and Harry mused that it was about twice as wide as the Dursleys’ house, and at least three times as tall. The group of first years huddled together, waiting. A few minutes after the arrived, they were herded into a small chamber and were told to wait. A silvery leg came through one of the walls, and a girl screamed.
A body followed the leg. “I’m sorry,” the silvery thing, a ghost, said. “I didn't mean to scare you. Are you all first years? My goodness, there's a lot of you.” the ghost poked his head back through the wall, and the terrified first years could hear a muffled, “the first years are here!” Three ghosts came through the wall, and the other ghost pulled his head out of the wall. “Hello, first years. I’m Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.”
A ghost in a friar’s robes glided forward. “I’m the Fat Friar! Hello!”
A ghost in chains said sombrely, “I am the Bloody Baron.”
“And I am the Grey Lady,” proclaimed the fourth ghost, a tall and imposing witch.
The ghosts began conversing with the students and moving about the room. All conversation ceased as the door opened, and an imposing woman stepped into the light. “Good evening. I am Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, Head of Gryffindor House, and Deputy Headmistress. Follow me.”
Professor McGonagall led the first years into a hall full of people. There were five tables: one with what looked like the full staff, and four larger ones filled with students. Professor McGonagall led the first years between two of the student tables to the front of the hall. On a three-legged stool sat a dirty, patched-up hat. The hat opened at one of the numerous rips and began to sing.
but don't judge on what you see.
I'll eat myself if you can find
a smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
your top hats sleek and tall.
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
and I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
the Sorting Hat can't see.
So try me on and I will tell you
where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
where dwell the brave at heart.
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
set Gryffindors apart.
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
where they are just and loyal.
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
and unfraid of toil.
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind.
Where those of wit and learning,
will always find their kind.
Or perhaps in Slytherin
you'll make your real friends.
Those cunning folks use any means
to achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands, (though I have none),
for I'm a Thinking Cap!
[Lyrics from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone]
Professor McGonagall pulled out a scroll and started reciting names. As a first year’s name was called, he or she would walk up to the stool and put it on. The hat would remain silent for a minute or two, and then shout the name of one of the four Houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin.
When it was Harry’s turn, he stepped nervously up to the hat and put it on. For a long time, he heard nothing. Then a voice sounded in his head. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? The famous Harry Potter. You could do well in Slytherin, but you do have Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tendencies. Hmm…” It paused. “I think you will do well in Slytherin.”
Harry paled visibly. He vaguely remembered his mother telling him about Slytherin. She had told him there was only one Death Eater that hadn’t been in Slytherin, so Harry half-whispered, half-thought, “Not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin. Please.”
The hat decided to argue with Harry. “You could be great, you know. Slytherins are known for their power.”
“Yeah, power of killing loads of innocent people, including my Mum.” Harry had developed a passionate hatred of anything Slytherin, ever since Bellatrix Lestrange had killed his mother, and he had been shocked to find out that Severus Snape had been a Slytherin.
Harry resumed his muttered protests, and a few minutes later, the hat said, “Well… If you’re sure…” Harry gave a mental nod. “Better be… GRYFFINDOR!” The last word was shouted, so that everyone in the Great Hall heard.
Harry let out the breath he did not realise he had been holding as he gave a sigh of relief. He walked over to Professor McGonagall, and she gave him a patch that had a rearing red-and-gold lion and the word “Gryffindor” stitched on it. Harry placed the patch on his robes, and it slid to the right and up, so it was just above his heart. He then walked over to the table Professor McGonagall was pointing at.
As he sat down, two of Ron’s brothers — the twins, Fred and George — patted him on the back. Harry gave a weak smile and turned back to the hat. Ron was one of the last to be sorted, and the hat put him in Gryffindor almost immediately. He joined Harry at the Gryffindor table and they amused themselves by trying to figure out which professor taught what subject. When they reached the end of the table, Harry gazed into the eyes of a man with greasy black hair sitting with another man in a hideous purple turban. The loathing in the greasy-haired man’s eyes was the last thing Harry saw before a flash of green light clouded his vision. Harry’s scar began to burn, and he closed his eyes.
It was a few seconds before his vision cleared, and Harry sat up, blinking. People were staring at him, so he got up and brushed himself off, muttering, “Leaned too far back on the bench,” and the chatter in the hall resumed. Ron leaned over to Harry.
“You OK, mate?” Ron muttered.
“Yeah,” Harry muttered. “I just saw someone I know.” He shook his head vigorously to clear it.
“You must have been mistaken,” he told himself. “That guy was definitely NOT Sevvy. No way. Sevvy had shorter hair, and he didn’t look so mean.” The sudden appearance of food on his plate distracted him, and he dug in gratefully.
By the end of the feast, everyone was comfortably stuffed, and the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, stood up, saying, “I have a few start-of-term notices.
“First years should know that the forest on the grounds is forbidden, and that magic is forbidden in the corridors.
“Quidditch tryouts will be held in a week, after everyone is settled. If you wish to join your House’s team, please notify Mrs. Hooch.
“Lastly, unless you want to die, don’t go into the third-floor corridor.
“That’s it, really. Prefects, please show the first years to their dormitory.”
There was a great scraping and banging as the whole school stood up and charged off to their respective dorms. Harry and Ron weaved through the crowd until they found Percy, who was shouting. “Gryffindor first years! Over here! Come over here, Gryffindor first years!”
Ron’s brother led the group through a long stretch of winding corridors until they reached the portrait of a very fat woman wearing pink. The lady looked down the bridge of her long nose, and said, “Password?”
Gesturing to the portrait, Percy said, “This is the Fat Lady. She guards the Gryffindor Common Room, and you need a password to get in. the password is currently ‘Caput Draconis.’ Follow me in.” Percy repeated the password, and the painting swung forward, revealing a door. The first years followed Percy through the door and gasped as they looked around the large room.
The room had several fireplaces, and clustered around the fireplaces were cosy-looking armchairs and couches. Percy waved at the room. “This is the Common Room. You will spend a lot of your relaxation time here, but it’s time for bed. Girls go up the staircase to the left, boys to the right. The dormitory is the first one you’ll see. Off to bed.” With one final wave, the redhead sent the first years off to bed.
Harry sank on to his bed, grateful for the first pair of nice, clean sheets he’d had in a long time. The smell of the sheets brought back memories of his mother. She had used the same scent whenever she washed things, and Harry loved listening to Severus complain that the scent was too “feminine” for him and that his colleagues might laugh at him. His mother would just playfully swat him with one of her freshly washed dishtowels and laugh.
That night, Harry dreamed about his mother.
The next morning, Harry woke early, excited for the upcoming day. He noticed that, when he received his class schedule, he had Potions with a Professor Snape, and Harry wondered if that was just a coincidence, or if his Potions teacher was his step-father.
The morning seemed to pass by slowly, and Harry found himself checking the clock about every five minutes. Even though the lunch table was sagging with delicious-looking food, Harry ate only a small bowl of soup, as his stomach was full of butterflies in anticipation of re-meeting his step-father.
When Harry stepped into the crowded Potions classroom, all noise ceased, and heads turned as Harry slipped into a front row seat, followed by Ron.
“Can’t we sit over there?” his friend hissed. “I’ve heard about this bloke. Supposedly, he’s worse than, well, anyone here, and you don’t want to be noticed by him.”
Harry smiled. “Relax, Ron,” he said, still grinning, “I know Sev- I mean, Professor Snape. He was a friend of my Mum’s.”
Ron stared at Harry, but anything he might have said was drowned out by the banging of a door. Professor Severus Snape walked to the front of the room. “Welcome to Potions. In this class you will learn how to do things such as brew luck, cook up an enchanted sleep, and even put a stopper in death.” Snape rounded on Harry and proceeded to ask him a series of difficult questions about things he had never heard of before. Every time, a question was asked, Hermione, the girl with the bushy hair, waved her hand frantically, but Snape never called on her. Instead, he let Harry fail miserably with the questions, and he made no move to stop the laughter of Harry’s classmates.
After class, Harry began seething to Ron. “The nerve! That- that man in there is my step-dad! Can you believe it?”
Ron patted Harry’s arm sympathetically and said, “Well, we can just hope for the best.”