Author's Note: To those of you about to read this I have a few warnings. One, this is not only a crossover of "Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus" and "October" but is also a sequel to the fic "Lily and the Art of Divine Responsibility", so if you haven't read that fic, and you haven't read a significant chunk of the other fics, then you'll be really really confused.

The other warning is that this is only canon to "Lily and the Art of Divine Responsibility" and not either of the fics it's based off of. So NOT CANON warning for you all.

Because ten billion years' time is so fragile, so ephemeral... it arouses such a bittersweet, almost heartbreaking fondness.

Now and Then, Here and There

Part I

His name was not easily translated into the words that the Eternal Star Flower, God, preferred to use. At least, it did not translate well, it became overly poetic and longwinded, syllables trailing out long after the name had lost its meaning. All names had this tendency, they had to be shortened and condescend to mean anything at all, (such as her own use of the term Lily for herself) but in that you still lost something.

He was called Light and Shadow of the Distant Star, namely because they felt that the light and shadow was the same thing from a star, almost inseparable. And it suited him, in a way, to have both meanings intertwined in his name.

But still, it said quite a bit that the creator of reality could not bring herself to remember all of it.

That had been when he had first considered faith and the true state of the universe. He had been young, in terms that he had only very recently come into existence, they all had. There would be children, one day, but in that moment they had all blinked and in an instant had flickered into life and inside their heads were all the secrets of the world.

(This is who you are, this is how you breathe, eat, live, walk, laugh, talk…)

And she had been standing there, young, younger than many of them. A child in all respects, with eyes that were colored green, hair that was a darker red than any they had ever seen, and so terribly small in comparison to them. She had grinned at them anyway, in spite of their clear differences, and babbled in gibberish until it became apparent that not one of them understood.

He had always had a very close relationship with God. Not because she showed any favoritism towards him in particular but because he had always wanted to know her. From the very beginning, more than any of the others, more than he himself could explain, he wanted to know her.

So he had been the first to master the language she insisted on speaking, the first to seek her out and ask why, and the first to realize that she was not like them and they in turn were not like her. She had not created them in her own image.

And when this realization had struck him, when he looked her in the eyes and realized how different they looked from each other, how tall he was in comparison and his own eyes so much larger and darker than hers; he had at first felt shocked and then confused. Because he felt as if he should be insulted, that she hadn't made them like her, but then… But then he also was not.

He remembered speaking to her about this.

"You did not make us like you."

She had been erecting structures, buildings, with her bare hands insisting on the need for shelter from the desert ice storms. They had understood the need almost immediately, without her having to inform them, but sometimes it was easier for her to have her way (and faster too).

His words distracted her though and she looked up at him with raised eyebrows and then seemed to decide he was talking about their physical appearance, "Well, Pluto's a cold, dark, and dreary place when you get down to it. Even with the atmosphere, someone built like me would be blind in two seconds without the light. Although if I was really going for cold protection you guys would all be stout and fat but… well tall people look better."

He shook his head earnestly, "That is not what I meant; we don't… Think the same." He finally settled on although this was not what he wanted to say either.

"Probably not." She admitted easily as if this was more than expected and would have been surprised (and dubious) if he had said they did think alike.

"But… You created us." He said, and until that point he hadn't realized he had been asking her a question. Why? Why had she chosen this path of all paths? What did she see that they couldn't?

"That doesn't mean anything." She dismissed with a wave of her hand, "Besides, create is such a large word isn't it? I think 'schlepping a bunch of things together' is a bit more along the lines of what happened."

She then beamed at him, her bright and almost certainly meaningless smile (an expression of reaction rather than emotion), and said, "It's best not to think too philosophically about things; unless you're trapped in a cupboard because then it's a very good time killer."

He had nodded at the time but he had not understood and would come to realize that he might never truly understand. Only grasp desperately at its meaning.

He had always wanted to discover how the universe worked. Not everyone did, some were not curious at all, instead focused on what they needed to get them through the days how to live on such a cold and dark world.

But he had always wanted to know and he had always known exactly who to ask.

"Study physics." Was her first, short, answer.

"What is this physics?"

"The underlying laws of the universe; the rules it likes to go by… Most of the time." And it'd become clear in that answer alone that the Eternal Star Flower, Lily, didn't truly believe in her physics either. She considered them, at best, guidelines that she could follow if she deigned but could also just as easily disregard.

So he had not studied physics, he later learned that this surprised her.

Instead he sat on the peaks above the growing city, staring out into the wilderness, and thought about what the constants of the world truly were. He finally settled upon her, she who had created them from air and dust, if there was any law to understand and believe in then it would be herself.

She called this religion; and she did not like it.

It was not his doll, his representation of her, a child had made it. And for a while she had not realized what it was, had not even considered it, but when she did there was no hesitation when she snapped it. The girl, Dust of Moon, had been on the verge of tears but there had been steel in God's eyes.

Soon after they had learned of religion and of Chuck Norris.

"They were but three hundred Spartans standing against the Persian horde and Chuck Norris stood at the front, ready to round house kick all his enemies back into hell, and Bruce Lee the god of Kung Fu did give his blessing to the Spartans…" She'd handed them each books, with the word 'origin and nature of the universe' stamped on the front, and inside it was… this…

He'd never really believed it, even in the beginning, some had and took it seriously enough. Enough to erect temples to the ideas but even their faith waned in time. She was too desperate, too unnerved, and it soon was clear to all that these were deflections; stories to tell children.

Because she did not like it when they looked at her and called her creator.

And he marked this carefully away inside his head, as he continued to watch her, and slowly but surely a new religion formed for him in which there was always and only ever her at the center. In time he found himself speaking to others.

"There is only one true law in this world." He said tossing a stone up in the air and then watching as it fell down into his palm. He had finally found the words for it, the exact way to phrase it in that short English that they used with each other, and he felt delighted by that.

"It is not gravity, it is not force, it is not light, life, or even death. It is nothing so simple as that; instead it is multifaceted and wears a face. The world is the Eternal Star Flower; and anything else is deflection."

It turned out, strangely, that he had a way with these words because soon enough some were inspired. They built a grand temple into the mountain face, made a statue of her, and when he looked at it the thing was grand but also garish. Because she was so much larger than that statue, stretched so far beyond it, that condensing her into an avatar of stone seemed… petty almost.

She must have felt the same, when she first saw it. She'd looked stunned, as if she'd been hit in the head, her eyes growing wider and still as they settled upon the columns and the statue. For a moment there had only been the wind inside of her, a growing maelstrom of power and uneasiness, and in that moment she must have recognized that they had gone past the point where she could push back.

She could no longer insist that they worship false idols.

Perhaps, he would consider later, that was the moment where they truly lost each other.

But at the time he could only walk away after speaking with her and think about how empty she seemed.

He dreamed of a future that did not occur.

He would grow older, become more of a man than he already was, children would be born who would not immediately understand that Lily, the Eternal Star Flower, was more than the child she liked to appear as.

Perhaps leadership, in a more real sense, would be thrust upon him.

She might grow older as well, allow her form to age somewhat, grow taller and longer. She would still look exotic, alien, her eyes too small and green and her hair too dark. But at the same time she would be familiar, and while he would never understand her he was also the light and shadow of that ever distant star, so he would come close.

She would understand what he meant by worship, prayer, devotion, and the bitter wind in her eyes would soften. She would say his name and then shorten it, condense it, into something that fit much in the way she did her own, in Lily. She would say Light and Shadow but in one word, Lightandshadow, so that it did not run out of meaning before it ran out of breath.

He would take her for his wife, trace the jagged line carved into her forehead with his lips, and somehow in that moment he would blink and understand her if only for a fraction of an instant. A flicker, of reality, as she might say it. He would wed her to his people so that she would never think of straying, as she sometimes did.

He would travel back with her to explore the world, to visit these other planets she spoke of. The ones with the bears she had made, the ones on the red planet who had run from this evil she called war, and the ones on the planet of water that was a place so complex she could not even describe.

He would see the ills she had left behind, that which she had never truly been content with, and rework them into a form that she could better understand.

Perhaps they would have children, who were half like him and half like her, half incomprehensible yet well-meaning even in their casual indifference.

Perhaps.

But this was the world that did not occur and when he thought of it the bitterness left him feeling as if he was choking.

"Yeah, I'm done."

She said it so simply, so clearly, that he almost thought he had imagined it.

She had been trying, she always tried, and he had appreciated it even if he felt like telling her to let it be. It wasn't about trying but about being, she didn't need to be like them, to understand them. She could do as she wished if only she would let them do what they must; let them recognize her for what she was instead of the act she put on.

"Done?"

She grimaced, looking over at him, eyeing him with a fair bit of wariness as if she knew she was saying the wrong thing but allowed herself to say it anyway, "This is weird and boring… And weird."

And he knew then what she was not saying.

There was a deep seated fear, deep in his heart, that she did not promise them eternity. She had been there in the beginning, had shown them how to survive and thrive, but she had not promised them forever.

He stepped closer, grabbing her shoulders, holding her in place.

"You would abandon your own people?"

She surveyed him silently for a moment, weighing her words, always weighing her words. But he knew without her having to say it that yes, she would, because they had never held any true power over her.

Something deep inside him, past the rage and despair, something burned.

"You cannot leave us; we are your children."

And then something snapped.

"We will not allow it."

It was a jihad, a holy war, in every sense of the term.

Because they all fought, even those who did not have passion in her, fought so that she would stay. Because there had never been a world without her in it, and they would rather die than see her return to whatever people she had known before.

They were enough, they must be enough.

And for that it was bitter and terrible, the earth scorched, the skies dark with smoke.

But they had challenged a God and as such they could not hope to truly win.

When he met her for the last time there was no pretense of the child in her expression. Her eyes were old and bitter, the light of the furthest stars on the horizon that travelled for years beyond their death.

He was bleeding, breathing in and out deeply, staring at her as she took his hand in hers.

"I wish that it hadn't come to this." She said, but inside those words she said that such endings were inevitable, but he had once dreamed of a world that was not like this either.

"When you see your other people…" He started, coughing in the middle, but she did not interrupt or insist that there were no other people. That thought, even after a war, still burned so horribly.

"When you see your other people remember us and what we died for."

Because if she remembered them then they would still exist; after all wasn't that what they were now? A memory of a God?

She smiled grimly at him, her lips wavering, on the verge of turning down into something haunting and forever sorrowful, "But I don't know what you died for."

He only smiled at her, one last time, and waited until he returned to the dust and the air he had been born from, relinquishing the flicker of time he'd been something living.

She never did remember his name.

Long after she left something flickered in the dark; he opened his eyes.

Part II

"Wait, but where do the communists come in?"

Tom was dying, he was dying without even a mortal wound to show for it, instead all he had was Eleanor Lily Potter, otherwise known as Lily, who had somehow managed to force Albus Dumbledore to accept her into the school and had somehow wormed her way into his introductory class.

And he wanted to kill something.

Minerva said the girl was a genius, more than a genius, because seeing Azrael as a first year with no understanding in theory had been one thing but seeing that same wandless transfiguration as a master was entirely another. Now she could appreciate the sort of raw power and mastery that took.

And it was causing her to panic.

("What do I do Tom, bloody Merlin, she's better than I am. She's better than Albus is… What do we even teach her?"

He'd suggested that they just let her do whatever she wanted and so far it'd worked out more or less.)

It was like that in most of her classes, the ones with practical assignments at any rate, the ones with essays… The ones like his, she didn't do nearly as well in those.

"The communists don't come in." Tom said, perhaps a bit harshly because for once it was actually a decent question, or would be, if they weren't currently talking about a time period before Karl Marx was even alive.

She looked perplexed by this, looking to her peers to see if they were just as confused as her, but they weren't.

"What about Bruce Willis?"

He also didn't come in, for much more obvious reasons than Communism, and Tom wanted to tear his hair out because she was single handedly ruining his lectures just by asking stupid questions.

(If only he had realized this when he was a student, he could have made Dumbledore's life miserable, he'd only have to look like an idiot to do it.)

Because the rest of his class didn't understand the difference between Bruce Willis and communism, to them they might as well be the same thing, and then Tom would have to explain why Communism had more merit in his course than Bruce Willis and they'd never make it to the First World War.

"Miss Potter," And didn't that make him shudder, why such a prominent family, surely there was some better false name than that. Especially since it was very clear that she wasn't a Potter, if you squinted a bit her face resembled Charlus' but the red hair and green eyes were definitely not from the pureblooded side of the family.

But she had insisted, or refused to come up with anything better, and had just claimed that it was a common muggle name and somehow everyone seemed to believe it. Although once tales of her magical prowess reached homes he wondered if she wouldn't be adopted by some pureblooded family as a long lost cousin.

He pitied the fool that tried.

"You've used up your questions points for the day." He pointed out with a thin smile, they both looked to the wall where Lily's question points were all crossed off. She didn't answer merely pursued her lips.

"That means no more talking." He finished, his expression darkening to something that would have any other little girl in tears.

She just sort of blinked at him, entirely unaffected, but nodded with a sigh and then windlessly conjured a copy of '1984' and began flipping through it to where she'd left off the last time she'd run out of question points.

Azrael owed him so very many favors for this.

Unfortunately, his other students didn't quite grasp the gravity of question points.

"Professor Riddle," James Potter's hand rose, that horrible grin on his face that let Tom know exactly what was going to happen next, "I want to hear about Bruce Willis and the communists."

He'd expected the Potters to be fuming at the idea of this little girl coming out of nowhere claiming to be a Potter of all things. But no, the son James had all but adopted her as an unofficial little sister, or worse an unofficial girlfriend. And they were both well on their way to driving him up the wall.

He didn't answer that, only glared, and for a moment James Potter paled and looked horrified but apparently his Gryffindor courage and idiocy ran deep because he didn't take his words back and didn't look away.

"But if we don't learn about Bruce Willis how will we ever understand muggle culture?"

"Detention, Potter, both Potters."

The girl just looked mildly annoyed while James Potter looked mildly pleased. Homicide, he'd forgotten how tempting it was. Especially when faced with the reality that God was a twelve year old Slytherin girl who waved constantly between genius and idiocy without realizing there was a difference between the two.

Yes, Azrael really did owe him so many favors for this.

James Potter was thirteen years old and in love. Of course, he'd thought he'd been in love with fiery, temperamental, smart, and beautiful Lily Evans. And Lily Evans still did hold a place near and dear to his heart, even if she spent all her time with Snivelus, and completely ignored him and his friends… He was still working on that.

But it turned out he was actually in love with Ellie Potter, who looked a lot like Lily only smaller and paler, and Lily seemed like a pale reflection in contrast to her. Ellie was younger than him but so much smarter but more than that she was a god when it came to pranking. Her every word, every action, drove every professor near to tears, and they still had to give her O's because she was just that good.

She even shared his last name, a muggle version of it apparently, which was clearly a sign sent from Merlin centuries ago to confirm that he and Ellie belonged together and had to get married when they grew up.

He just had to get Ellie to see it.

"I'm so bored…" Ellie let out a long suffering sigh, pulling at her green and silver tie, all while sitting at the Gryffindor table. That was how he first overlooked her, because she was a snake, but while it was true that Ellie was sort of a snake she wasn't really one. She really belonged in Gryffindor because she was nothing like the Sirius' cousins or Malfoy for that matter.

"I mean, not that I don't appreciate not having to fight trolls and Quirrells, but seriously it's like nothing actually happens here!" She cried looking up at the enchanted ceiling as if it could provide the answer to her. James was hanging on her every word, because he'd noticed, every time Ellie said she was bored something fantastic happened.

You just had to be patient.

"What do you expect to happen?" Mooney asked looking at her somewhat warily, Mooney and Peter weren't quite on board with Ellie joining the Mauraders yet, or even sitting at the Gryffindor table. They thought that she went a bit too far sometimes, especially when it came to tormenting Professor Riddle, but James was the opinion that there was no such thing as going too far.

"Quests, mystery, danger, evil Defense Against the Dark Arts professors… It happened the last time I was at Hogwarts." Ellie insisted with a shrug, not bothering to point out that this was the only time she'd been at Hogwarts as far as they knew, since she'd transferred in.

"Well, you know it's a school. That's kind of what you do… Just go to school."

Ellie did not seem amused by Mooney's answer, in fact it looked like it was about the last thing she wanted to hear. Which meant that this week was going to be more exciting even than the week before, because when Ellie got irritated, rather than just bored, even weirder things happened.

"I for one, am all for quests, mystery, danger, and evil Defense Against the Dark Arts professors." James said, pledging himself to the cause, Ellie glanced at him and nodded in approval.

James heart was soaring the last time she'd said something like that they'd crashed a Slug Club meeting, spiked the wine, and turned everyone into giant canaries. It had been glorious; it had even brought Sirius around to her side (because before the Slytherin thing was just way too much for him to handle, what with his family).

"Can't we just go to our classes like normal people?" Mooney asked, no pleaded, but looking at his expression he already knew he'd lost.

"No." James and Ellie said in tandem; and wasn't that great they were already finishing each other's sentences.

"Where are your other minions?" Ellie asked after a moment, eyes searching the table for Peter and Sirius and failing to find them.

James shrugged, Sirius was probably messing with his little brother and maybe Peter had joined along, James would have been there too if it didn't detract from his time best spent seducing Ellie.

Seducing women, it turned out, was very difficult.

Lily had been aware of what was going on, she just didn't want any part of it, and had made sure to violently let him know it. Ellie was completely and utterly oblivious, which was a bit odd considering he'd brought her flowers, serenaded her, given her chocolate, and everything he could think of.

It just meant he wasn't trying hard enough.

"Right, well, I'll have to find another hobby I guess. My last hobby was creating life and terraforming planets but it got a bit weird towards the end… Maybe I'll take up knitting."

Mooney looked flustered and a little confused by that statement, James just looked at her seriously, as seriously as she looked whenever she said anything, and said, "You are the most glorious person I've ever met in my life."

And like every other time he confessed his love she just sort of blinked at him and continued on with her topic like he hadn't even said anything.

"I'm serious, they started making religions about me, and you know praying and stuff and it was getting super weird. Eventually there was this massive war and everyone died and… you know… I think Lenin might have been right, I need less grandiose past times. At least, for the next five years or so."

"No, no, grandiose is awesome." James cut in, not that he believed what she was saying, although it was hard not to because she had the most unreadable expression ever. He never caught her laughing at her own pranks and one day James would be just as good at that expressionless serious face as she was.

"Um, right, you do that…" Mooney said, poking at his food miserably, which wasn't necessarily good but Mooney just needed to recognize how awesome Ellie was.

Ellie wasn't paying attention though, she was looking beyond them, beyond Hogwarts itself, and perhaps even further than that. She looked so much older than either he or Mooney then, more powerful, as if they were nothing more than fleeting distractions to her.

"It's like… There's no in between. Either things are too messy or they're too flat and dull, I can't seem to find anything meaningful that isn't also terrifying and filled with death."

James felt the smile drip from his lips because he could no longer fool himself into thinking that those words were some kind of a joke. Sometimes he agreed with Mooney and Wormtail, sometimes he wondered just what Ellie was.

Sirius had jokingly suggested she was a Martian, when she first showed up, and they'd laughed it off but sometimes…

Sometimes he remembered that Ubik was up there, that people lived on Mars now, and that Martians weren't things muggles had made up but instead did exist. That there was an emperor up there who wasn't human.

And sometimes he wondered just what Ellie really was.

But then she would sigh and the moment would be gone and she would be twelve again and he and his friends thirteen and everything would be perfectly fine.

At least, that's what he liked to believe.

It was like a single heartbeat, stuttering into existence in the dark, a ripple in time and space.

(Inside his office, Tom's pen stopped moving, and he looked up, barely recognizing that he was only staring at the ceiling.)

The next time Tom saw Azrael it wasn't a drunken revelry where they threw darts at Dumbledore's face.

Azrael appeared in the room like a shadow, melting off the wall and making his way to the chair, his expression somber and almost emotionless but the energy around him on the verge of snapping.

"Is Lily still here?" He began, his eyes meeting Tom's.

"I would have told you if she left." He sounded far more casual than he had any right to because even in the middle of the Second World War, Azrael hadn't looked like he looked now. Uncertain, angry, and afraid.

"I need to speak with her." He said, softly, but Tom didn't move.

"What happened?" Tom asked, because he'd felt it, something opening its eyes in the dark. Something that was not like them.

Azrael gave him a strained smile, one that stretched his face, "Her people have declared a war upon mine, ours, to reclaim their lost god."

"What?"

"They are not like us, Tom, they aren't even like me." Azrael said shaking his head, "They're very powerful and very clever."

"Wait, her people?" Tom asked and Azrael gave him a look, as if he really should have known better.

"I told you she was colonizing planets. What do you think she was doing out there? What separates God from Death, Tom? Life, the ability to create sentient life, to make something out of nothingness itself and make it self-sufficient. She went to the edges of our solar system and she made people!" Azrael leaned forward looking him in the eye.

"They followed her here, Tom, further than any man has ever travelled before." He finally said, "And they have said very plainly that they will not hesitate to destroy every last man, woman, and child to see her returned. They have somehow twisted her into Helen of Troy."

"…Are you serious?" Tom asked, because he really couldn't picture a completely alien race, created only a short while ago, declaring war on humanity to reclaim his worst student.

"I'm perfectly serious, Tom, and I need to speak with her."

"What are you hoping she'll say?" Tom asked, because it was very doubtful that it would be what Azrael wanted her to say.

"I'm hoping she'll be reasonable or force them to be reasonable… I don't wish to destroy them, Tom."

"Can you?" Tom asked, because Azrael had claimed to be death, and sometimes Tom forgot that but now he would be forced to remember it very clearly.

Azrael hesitated, that fear entering his eyes once again, and said, "I don't know." He paused before adding, "They're not like humans, Tom, they're not quite me but they're not exactly mortal either. They're… They're something caught in between. I don't know what she made so I don't know if I can unmake them."

"You're asking me, Tom, to defeat God."

Tom took Azrael's hands in his, shaking, squeezed them once and said as calmly as he was able, "I'll go find the girl and bring her here. Stay here."

Azrael nodded his thanks and Tom left, searching the hallways for the red headed girl that had suddenly become much more dangerous than irritating. Of course, she had always been this dangerous, she didn't even truly hide it, he had just disregarded it because… because it was hard to comprehend that a girl that young, the one that asked the dumbest questions he'd ever heard, had the ability to create and destroy civilizations without breaking a sweat.

He eventually found her, wandering the hallways like usual after curfew, every prefect who found her conveniently looking away or else staring straight through her as if she wasn't even there.

"Oh, it's comrade pseudo Lenin." She said, smiling over at him when she caught sight of him, and he always hated that nickname especially since he had no idea what it actually meant. He knew who Lenin was, obviously, but he had no idea what she meant by it.

Sometimes he wondered if she wasn't referencing Voldemort, the brief ambitions he'd had and discarded, and he was deemed fake because he hadn't followed them through.

"Lily," He said and her eyes sharpened, after all, he only called her that when he meant business and she went perfectly still. "I need you to come to my office."

He offered no other explanation, just grabbed her wrist and pulled her past the prefects and back to his own office where Azrael was still waiting in the chair. At the sight of him Lily's expression became a mix of sheepishness, confusion, and also dry amusement at the very sight of him as if he was somewhat funny.

The fact that anyone could know what Azrael was, and not take him seriously, bothered Tom almost more than anything else.

"Ubik," She said slowly, tasting the word as she looked at him, Azrael didn't nod back.

"Your people have come looking for you." Was all he said.

At his words Lily looked vaguely confused, she then appeared to think on it, and then her expression darkened, "My people? What did they look like?"

"I wouldn't know, they wore dark goggles and many layers of clothing. They said the sun was too close here and the heat made it difficult to think and the brightness difficult to see. They were very tall."

"Really?" Lily asked looking somewhat perplexed, stumped, as if this was a riddle and not a declaration of war.

Azrael said nothing, his expression unwavering, and with his stoniness it seemed to sink in for Lily, whatever this was.

"They are prepared for genocide if their demands are not met."

For a moment she was silent, the words just sinking in, but then her expression cleared and she started talking as if they were discussing the weather, "That's a bit extreme. They're not still worshipping me as God, are they? Because that's where all this weirdness started. Although it's gotten a little bit weirder now since I was pretty sure they were all very very dead when I left but apparently not."

"You are God!" Azrael slammed his hand down on Tom's desk, causing Lily to jump somewhat, "How can you not understand that?"

"Are you really one to talk, Death?"

They stared at each other for a moment, their eyes the same shade of green, and in them the thoughts that Tom could never understand because he wasn't one of them. He wasn't like these two and he never would be, and there was a whole universe of ideas he would never understand because of it.

Finally, Lily said calmly, "I guess I better go talk them out of blowing up the planet then."

And then she disappeared as if she'd never stepped foot inside Hogwarts in the first place.

"Why is it that weird holy shenanigans always happen in deserts?"

She couldn't exactly say she was surprised to see her friend the high priest of Pluto again but she wasn't exactly thrilled either. He looked the same as he had before, only covered in more clothing and wearing a ridiculous pair of tinted goggles, at her question he looked up and she imagined he smiled (it was hard to tell as most of his face was covered by white cloth).

"Eternal Star Flower, I was hoping you would come."

He was sitting, cross legged, staring towards the city of Ubik and looked perfectly at ease with the situation. Lily wasn't.

"I was pretty certain, when I left Pluto, that you all were very dead. You especially." She commented, taking a seat across from him, blocking his view of the city and staring past him into the desert.

"We flickered but we did not die."

"Really, well, I hope you all learned your lesson then." Because she was pretty sure he hadn't, given Uncle Death's ominous words.

"We have come to take you home, Eternal Star Flower."

She had no home, her home with another universe and even that wasn't home, she was always a stranger in a strange land.

But that would fly right over his head, so she pointed out one large flaw in his plan, "You remember the last time I was on your planet I slaughtered your people until there wasn't even a child left standing."

"Yet we are alive." He pointed out, as if the war and fires had meant nothing, "We are your people; and these people who you have run to will never belong to you and you will never belong to them."

"What if I don't want to go?" Because she didn't, she didn't like Hogwarts all that much but that didn't mean she wanted to run off and play God either, because that was a very dangerous game.

"Then we will impart to these people the lessons you imparted to us. We will slaughter every last man, woman, and child until their blood had spoiled their fields and the stars echo with their deaths."

"That's not very fair, they don't have anything to do with my decisions." Lily pointed out but the man cocked his head.

"Don't they? They are the ones you ran to, when you had thought us destroyed, and they have no idea what you even are. Personally, I find that somewhat offensive." And he did, look somewhat miffed by that idea, like it was insulting that someone didn't consider Lily a God.

Which was still just as alarming as it was the last time she'd decided to bail on project Pluto.

"That's six billion people you're talking about. And they're not just going to roll over and die either. These people have been killing each other for years, they have it down to an art form, you guys don't even know how to murder each other properly." This was true, they hadn't been around long enough for homicide to be a thing, as far as Lily knew they didn't even have a robbery yet.

"We will find a way; should it prove necessary." He said and she wondered if he had any idea how large of a number a billion was. To him it was just a word, not even an idea, it was hard for people to think in terms that large.

"You're going to kill six billion people just to get me to go back to Pluto and be your God."

"Should it prove necessary."

Well, there really was nothing she could say to that. Because really, what did you say to that kind of plan? It was the kind of plan where you just sort of stared because no one would ever really say that, ever, yet he did.

"Really?" She finally asked and he nodded grimly.

"Okay, well destroying Earth and Mars would be bad. So let's not do that."

"Then you will come back."

"I didn't say that. Let's compromise." Lily said instead.

"Compromise?" He asked, as if he wasn't really sure what the word meant and was trying to wrap his head around it.

"You don't blow up the planets and kill everyone and I go back with you, temporarily, and you guys don't worship me as a God. Because that's still super weird."

Judging from his lack of reaction she liked that plan just about as much as she liked his. For a moment they stared at each other, neither moving, and then without warning he was leaning forward tugging the white cloth from his face and kissing her on the lips.

It was quick, fleeting, but it still happened.

"It was never about worship, Lily, only about being." He said mournfully, the fires they had both left behind somehow unspoken in his voice.

And Lily realized that things had gotten a whole new level of complicated.

She also realized that Wizard Lenin had never felt the need to give her the sex talk since she was still pretty young. But, apparently the alien life form she'd created was sexually attracted to her, or at least kissing her, and so she probably needed that sex talk because she was pretty sure this wasn't supposed to happen.

"Gleh." Is what she actually said.

He leaned back, observing her, his mouth a perfect alabaster frown that waited for a more complete reaction.

"Gleeeeehhhhh." Was still all she managed to get out.

It wasn't that he wasn't attractive, but she'd never really thought about how attractive people were before. Well, Rabbit was very symmetrical, but he was also terrifying. Then again this man was also decently symmetrical, if tall and with larger eyes than the average man, and also fairly terrifying considering he'd risen from the dead and declared war on Earth to get her back after she killed him and everyone he knew.

"Does that mean yes?" He asked.

"No." Well, at least she could sort of talk coherently again.

Although, maybe that was supposed to show her that she wasn't God anymore. She was pretty sure people didn't go kissing God. Then again, if she wasn't God then what was she supposed to be. If it was sex slave she wasn't sure she agreed; she wasn't even clear on the details of what being a sex slave meant.

These were conversations she and Wizard Lenin had just never gotten around to that she now really regretted not having.

"Can you truly say you are happy among these people?" The man finally said, and it was so resigned, as if he expected her to say yes. As if he fully expected to kill everyone on Earth and was even now planning it and hating it.

And she wasn't nearly so certain as he was.

She thought about James Potter, her father, and how even he faltered in how far he was willing to go along with her. If she stayed that was all there would ever be, James Potter and his petty pranks. But if she left, if she left, what would there be for her then?

Where was she supposed to go when she had never existed in this universe in the first place?

"Would I be happy with you guys?"

"Yes."

But how could he be so sure? They'd tried before, it hadn't worked, did that mean they'd get it right the second time?

But why stay at Hogwarts? The man that looked like Wizard Lenin wasn't Wizard Lenin, he was softer, shaped by different experiences and he didn't want her around. He found her unnerving, a bad copy of his own version of Death, they had no common ground and she had nothing worth offering him.

This Death was younger and was afraid of her, overwhelmed by power he didn't dare to touch let alone think about.

And everyone else…

So why not humor these people? Why not save the world for a few more years? A war, a holy war, at least was interesting, if it came to that again. At least they recognized her, needed her in some weird fashion she didn't really understand.

If it was filled with violence and death then at least it had some inherent meaning to it.

Lily walked into the desert and for forty days and forty nights she did not eat. The devil did not have to tempt or suggest. She turned the rocks into bread by her own means. And when she looked across at him he smiled.

"As far as I know she's returned to Pluto and that they're doing very well for themselves there."

It was May of the year that the girl Lily had suddenly appeared then just as suddenly disappeared. Azrael had come in the Spring with little warning and had offered what little information he knew over tea.

James Potter had been heartbroken but eventually had turned his attentions back to the much less dangerous Lily Evans, the staff had more or less breathed a sigh of relief, and the castle seemed strangely empty without her boisterous and absurd presence to fill it.

"When I saw her last she said that they agreed to be more casual in their worship of her. They do not expect answers from prayer, but rather by talking to her directly, and they no longer create temples for her. Occasionally she still goes to colonize worlds but returns every few months so that they don't feel the need to go to war."

It was an odd sort of story, a strangely anticlimactic and odd ending, considering everything. But it worked, in a way, an endless cycle where she would go out and create and destroy as she saw fit. And they would welcome her back with open arms, knowing exactly what she was.

"And does anyone here know about them yet?" Tom asked, because Martians were one thing being refugees from Earth, actual aliens would be entirely different. Or perhaps they wouldn't, perhaps it would be merely strained as it was with Azrael, only time would tell.

"No, but they will."

They both fell silent at that, contemplating the future that neither of them predicted.

"It's strange, the path she made for herself…" Azrael started, "I never would have thought of it. I think she's content, for the most part, but it's hard to be certain with her."

Tom wondered how often they saw each other. The God of Pluto and the Emperor of Ubik, how often did they casually meet in the stars and ask each other how their kingdoms were fairing? They had a connection, still had one, that Tom would never share and somehow Tom doubted either of them realized it.

But these were things best not thought about, until they became Tom's problem, God only knew what the ministry would do when they realized that not only Mars had been colonized but Pluto as well.

The planet of war and the planet of death, the centaurs would have a field day.

"Well, I suppose there's only thing left to do now." Tom said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"What?"

"It's time, emperor of Ubik, to get hideously drunk."

Author's Note: Yet another sequel to something I didn't realize deserved a sequel, also a tad bit weirder and more serious than the original side fic but eh. Prompted by the 200th reviewer of "The Unwinding Golden Thread" BreathingStar who asked for a sequel to "Lily and the Art of Divine Responsibility".

Thank you for reading, reviews are greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: As is probably evident from the subject matter, the aliens, I really don't own Harry Potter.