Written for Hogwarts' World Cup Event: Quote: "In heaven, all the interesting people are missing" - Friedrich Nietzsche, the Seasonal Prompts: Days of the Year - September 21 2018: International Peace Day - Write about the aftermath of war, Summer Prompts: (word) fresh, Color Prompts: Vanilla, Birthstones: Turquoise - (dialogue) "I would fight with every bone in my body if it meant I could protect you.", Shay's Musical Challenge: Come From Away - write about an unexpected visitor, Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Character - Lily Evans, trait: fiery, Summer Astronomy Prompts: July 28 2017 - (emotion) anger, Fire Element: (pairing) JamesLily, (word) luminous.

Also for the Writing Club: Character Appreciation - (word) sneer, Disney Challenge: Let It Go - Write about someone letting go of a negative emotion, Book Club: Governor Dragna - (word) fear, (word) power, (food) plum, Showtime: Not In This Corner - (action) punching someone, Amber's Attic: Show Me a God - Write about someone losing their faith in someone/something, Count Your Buttons: "Disappear Here" by Bad Suns, (character) Harry Potter, Lyric Alley: and awakened another, Lo's Lowdown: (dialogue) "Remind me never to piss you off.", Eagle Day: Marietta Edgecomb - (word) defend, (emotion) fear, Debate Club: Family - [Plot Point] Someone gets injured, Best Friends Day: 3 - lily evans (character), emerald (colour), lovely (word),Star Trek Challenge, Year 1: Romulan - Trait: Racist, Trait: Xenophobic, Plot Point: Taking action based on extreme emotions, Film Festival: Plot Point - Someone peeping in the window, Word - secrets, Insane House Challenge: Trope - Everybody Lives.

Also for the Gardening Assignment - Task 10: Flowers - Write about a character with a floral name and the Holmes Challenge: (character) Petunia Dursley.

There'll be more to this, at some point.

Word count: 3605

The first thing Lily was aware of was the darkness. It encompassed everything, it was everything.

But slowly, some things started to filter through. Voices, mostly, meaningless chatter where she could sometimes grasp a word or two.

" … in a coma… should … dead…"

"… wake…?"

"... don't know… could be…"

"... years?"

"... yes."

It was hard to focus, as the darkness kept pulling her under and she lost long stretches of time — or at least, what she thought felt like long stretches of time — but she kept fighting. Something told her it was important she keep fighting.

She tried to remember how she had ended up here, or even where here was — a hospital, maybe? — but all her mind could manage to scrounge up was a bright, sickly orange light and a sense of urgency and dread before the darkness swallowed her whole.

But slowly, things changed. Light started to seep in with the voices, and she could understand more and more and more.

Until one day, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into a very young and very startled Healer's eyes.

.

The last thing Petunia Dursley expected on an early autumn morning was to open her door to find her sister Lily standing there, her husband half a step behind.

Her dead sister Lily.

She screamed and slammed the door in their faces. Heaving, she put a hand over her chest, feeling as though her heart might be trying to beat its way out of it. This… This couldn't be. It had to be a dream, or a hallucination, or… something.

Someone knocked on the door and she jumped, jarred out of her thoughts. Eyeing it with distaste, but knowing she couldn't just ignore whoever (or whatever) was on the other side — God only knew what the neighbors would think, and Vernon would eventually need to leave for work — she opened it.

"What?" she asked, her lips pursed thin. her heart was still racing in fear and adrenaline, but she was safe. She had to hold onto that.

Lily's eyes, as green as they had always been, burrowed into hers. "Hello, Petunia. It's been a while. Could you… Would you mind letting us in?" Her smile seemed genuine enough, if a bit strained around the edges, and she looked harmless… But then again, Lily always had — right until their parents had been killed because of her war. Because of her kind and their unnatural powers.

Petunia did mind, in fact, but a quick look around showed her that her neighbors were already starting to spy through their curtains, undoubtedly looking for gossip. Lovely. Glaring, she stepped aside and nodded at them to come in.

That Dumbledore had said taking the boy in meant they'd be protected against danger — hopefully, that meant these two were who they seemed to be, even if that was impossible.

They moved into the house in silence, Petunia trying to ignore the way her guests craned their heads to look around them and at the vanilla-colored walls as they walked.

They finally came to a stop in the kitchen. Petunia made sure to place a table between them. Then, and only then, she allowed herself to look at Lily more closely.

She looked… Older than Petunia remembered. More tired, and a little frail perhaps. Her husband stood beside her, hovering — John? Jack? She knew he had some unimaginative name close to that… If only she could remember…

Right, it was James.

James looked exactly like his son, even though the boy was only six. They had the same unkept dark hair and the same brown skin, and Petunia bit back a sneer as she turned her eyes back to her sister.

"Lily," she said, her voice failing her after that. She pushed a plate of fresh plums toward them. SHe wasn't really expecting them to eat any, but it felt better than doing nothing.

"Petunia," Lily replied. James dropped a hand on her shoulder and Lily reached up to squeeze it, sending him a loving look that twisted Petunia's stomach. "It's good to see you."

Petunia didn't answer, she just kept staring, and Lily's smile grew stilted. "I —"

"How are you here?" Petunia suddenly interrupted, fingers drumming nervously against the countertop. "I was told you were dead."

Lily's mouth clicked shut. Her husband frowned. "We never died," he said, eyes flicking down to Lily, who tightened her hold on his hand so much her knuckles turned white.

"We were in a coma." Lily's eyes drifted downward. "We only woke up a couple of weeks ago, but we came here as soon as we heard you took custody of Harry." Her emerald green eyes snapped up and she gave Petunia a softer smile. "Thank you for that."

Petunia's stomach turned. She stayed silent.

"We're sorry we didn't warn you," Lily continued. "But well, I wasn't sure you'd accept owl post and the Muggle post would have taken too long, and I — we — really just want to see our son again."

"He's sleeping," Petunia blurted out. Her eyes darted toward the door, where she could just glimpse the cupboard under the stairs where her nephew slept. For the first time since they had put him there, she felt a twinge of guilt.

"Oh." Lily and her husband shared a long look before she turned back to Petunia. "Maybe you could wake him up then? I understand it's early," she hastened to add, "but I'm sure he wouldn't mind being woken up early for this, don't you think?"

Uncharitably, Petunia wondered who this act would really benefit — the boy, or Lily herself? Her sister looked sick still, after all. Clearly, magic wasn't good for everything.

"Stay here." She shot them a cold look. "I'll go get him. You can make tea," she added, more to give them a reason to stay behind than out of any particular want.

They smiled at her gratefully, and Petunia left the room, closing the kitchen door behind herself.

It was only a few steps to the boy's cupboard and she crossed them quickly, rapping on his door and swinging it open before she got an answer.

The boy, half-buried underneath his ratty covers, blinked up at her blearily. "Aunt Pe'unia?" he mumbled through a yawn. He blinked up again, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I'm up, I'm up. Do you want me to help make breakfast again?"

She had started him on that a few weeks back to keep him busy and out of the way, and breakfast preparations were some of the easiest ways to do that.

"No. Get up, there are some people who want to see you." The hope that shone in his bright green eyes so similar to her sister's was disgusting.

He shuffled out of his cupboard, shivering a little. "Well, hurry up," Petunia said bitingly, already walking back to the kitchen.

Harry followed after her, still half-asleep but wondering what these visitors wanted with him.

Maybe… he thought, and cut himself off there. He kept wishing someone would come and take him away from the Dursleys, but he was starting to understand this was a useless dream.

Still, he wondered who those visitors might be. With any luck, they might be nice to him. Or we'll, nicer than the Dursleys — though that wasn't difficult.

Even though the kitchen wasn't far, Aunt Petunia walked quickly and he had a hard time keeping up. His pajamas — old ones of Dudley's — were slightly too big for him and he had to keep tugging them up so he wouldn't trip on the legs.

The strangers looked… Well, they looked nice. Nothing like the Dursleys, that was for sure. For one, the woman was actually pretty. She had long red hair that bounced a little on her shoulders, and a kind smile on her face, even if she was wringing her hands over the kitchen table.

But Harry only had eyes for the man that stood beside her. He wasn't very tall — his head barely rose above Aunt Petunia's — but he shared Harry's 'unruly bird nest that passed for hair' and he also wore glasses, though they weren't as ugly as Harry's.

And more importantly, he shared Harry's skin color, a warm brown Harry had otherwise only seen on the television, in the glimpses he sometimes caught when his relatives weren't paying attention to him and were too busy criticizing 'those people'.

He couldn't help it. He stopped walking, frozen in place, and stared.

The woman noticed him first. Her hands stilled and her eyes watered, and she tapped the man on the arm repeatedly to get his attention, appearing too emotional for words.

"Hi, Harry," the man said. He had a kind smile, and his voice sounded familiar. For some reason, it made Harry feel safe and made him want to cry at the same time. "It's very nice to meet you." His voice sounded raw, like he was trying not to cry.

Harry sent a panicked look Aunt Petunia's way, but his aunt only answer was to sneer and roll her eyes at him.

"It's… nice to meet you too, sir," Harry eventually replied, wiping sweaty palms on his pajamas legs.

James' heart clenched as he drank in the sight of his his son for the first time in… in years. Lily's hand was clenched painfully around his arms, her nails digging into his flesh even through the fabric of his shirt, but he couldn't even care.

Harry was… He was perfect. They looked alike, he noted absently, and the thought made him smile. Sirius had joked that Harry had gotten his hair as soon as it had started growing in, and James had always tried to deny it, but it seemed his best friend's prediction had come true.

Lily's luminous eyes shone from behind his glasses though, curious and guarded at the same time, and James just wanted to take him into his arms and never let go.

Merlin, they had missed so much. Harry had been just a baby the last time they had seen him, and now here he was, all grown up.

Petunia barely registered to him as he moved forward, kneeling in front of his son until he could stare into his eyes. Lily rested a hand on his shoulder but James didn't look up at her, only exhaled a slow breath.

"Hi, Harry," he repeated softly.

Harry frowned, his eyes darting from James to Petunia to Lily and back again. "Who are you?"

The question hit him like a punch in the gut but James forced himself not to show it. He deserved that. As far as Harry knew, they had been dead for years — which they would need to talk to Albus about, because why would he tell people he and Lily had died when they hadn't? Of course, their son couldn't recognize them.

But still, he found himself Harry had. Hadn't he seen pictures of them? Heard stories? He guessed not — the Dursleys had never really liked him (or Lily), they probably didn't even have pictures to show.

Lily's hand tightened on his shoulder, jarring him out of these thoughts. "We're your parents," she said, her voice trembling a little. "I'm your mother, Harry."

Harry took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise. Hope, painful on his intensity, was painted on every line of his face. "Are you here to take me away?"

James smiled, even though something twisted in his stomach at how eager Harry sounded.

"If you want to," Lily replied.

Harry only nodded, his hair flying wildly as he shook his head up and down vigorously. "Please." he seemed to be about to add something else, but shut himself up when loud footsteps suddenly echoed from the hallway.

James stood up, exchanging a quick worried glance with his wife as he did so. "Is that —" he started, only to be interrupted when the door was flung open violently.

"Petunia!" Vernon's Dursley said, his voice booming around the kitchen. "Is breakfast ready? I saw the boy was up already, I —"

"'The boy' has a name," Lily interrupted, her voice as cold as an iceberg.

James' fingers itched for his wand. Whenever Lily's voice grew that cold, it wasn't a good sign — her anger usually ran hot.

"And that name is Harry," Lily was continuing, her eyes narrowing. Her smile turned sharp. "I also hope you weren't about to suggest that my son should be making you breakfast…?"

Vernon's face turned red. "Now, see here, missy —"

"It's Mrs."

Vernon ignored her. "— I don't know who you think you are, but this is my house, with my rules, and the boy —"

"Harry."

"— the boy has been freeloading here, leeching off of our goodwill, costing us time and money while you people were doing who knows what in your fairyland or whatever. I think it's, it's fair to say that the boy —"

"Harry."

"— should contribute to this household somehow, should pull his weight around the house —"

Lily watched with growing despair and frustration as Harry wilted the more Vernon went on, and all the while, Petunia said nothing.

No, even worse, she was nodding along like she was agreeing.

"— you left him with us, abandoned him, and we took him in out of the kindness of our hearts, and now you change your minds and what, want him back? And you think you can judge us? No, I don't think so!" Vernon's chest was heaving, his mustache trembling violently with every angry word he spoke, and Lily grew more furious with each instance of it.

"Vernon," Petunia said, her voice too sweet to be true, "they came here to get the boy."

That seemed to calm Vernon down. "Oh," he said, rocking on his heels. "Good riddance then."

Lily snapped. She crossed the room in one, two quick strides, and punched her sister's atrocious husband right in the mouth.

Vernon stumbled back, hands raised to his nose and coming back bloody.

Good, Lily thought, fiercely glad at the sight.

Petunia, of course, hurried over to her husband's side, alternating between hovering around him in worry and shooting Lily death glares.

Merlin, how could she ever have thought her sister had changed?

Apparently done pampering to her husband — or perhaps allowing him to brush her off as he was trying to do — Petunia rounded up on her.

"How dare you?!" She screeched. "How dare you attack Vernon, you —"

Lily turned around and slapped her. "How dare I? How dare you — my son, Petunia, my son. How could you treat him like he was some kind of, of servant, here to do your bidding?"

"Wow, remind me never to piss you off." James whistled.

"Like you need a reminder," Lily retorted, tossing him back a tense smile. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she felt a surge of fondness for him.

James only smiled back, a quicksilver thing that turned soft at the edges as soon as his eyes focused on Harry again, though he didn't say anything.

Out of the corner of her vision, Lily saw Vernon start to move, but she stood her ground.

"Uh, uh, I don't think so." James hissed, his wand raised threateningly. Its tip glowed white and Vernon froze, his face going alarmingly pale.

Petunia opened her mouth to say something back — probably some feeble attempt to defend herself or her husband or both — but Lily shot her down with a glare.

"There is nothing you can say that will help you here." She turned back, her gaze falling on Harry who was staring up at her like he had never seen anyone like her before. her fury eased and she knelt down to his level, much like James had before.

"Why don't you go get your stuff, Harry? And then we'll be leaving."

Harry's eyes went wide. "For real?"

"For real," Lily promised. When Harry still didn't move, she added, "Want me to come with you?"

Surprisingly, that only seemed to make Harry more uncomfortable as he scuffed his bare feet on the floor.

Behind them, Petunia blanched. "I'm sure the boy — that Harry can do it on his own, can't he?" she said, simpering.

"Actually," she replied, trying to ignore the queasy feeling her sister's words had provoked in her, "I think Harry might need some help carrying his things, don't you?"

"I really don't have much," Harry said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I'll be fine on my own."

Petunia looked eager to agree, Vernon an angry, scared shadow at her side, but Lily only glared at them. "I insist."

James kept his wand trained on Vernon, practically daring him to do anything — Lily had a feeling he would enjoy cursing them (she was trying really hard to remember why he shouldn't) — and they all moved out of the kitchen, slowly following after Harry.

They didn't go far, and Lily's stomach soured as they stopped in front of a cupboard. Her eyes prickled with hot tears, rage burning white in her chest.

"What is the meaning of this?" James hissed from the end of the queue.

Lily didn't even try to listen to Petunia's poor attempts at justifying herself — "It was the only place he would sleep, where else were we supposed to put him?" — as she reached out for the door with trembling fingers.

It swung open slowly, without a sound. Somehow, that was worse. She bit back a sob as her hand fell back to her side. She desperately wanted to gather Harry up in a hug, but she wasn't sure that would be welcome. Not when he seemed so awkward around them — and why wouldn't he, if this was what he had lived with for the past five years?

The room, if it could even be called that, was small. Oh, a kid Harry's size and age could probably fit in there well enough, but that didn't make the sight any less stomach-turning.

"Harry," she heard herself say as she gazed upon what looked like a pile of dirty rags but was probably intended to be a bed, "is there anything here you want to keep?"

Silent, Harry shook his head, only reaching in to pull out a pair of battered sneakers, and Lily burned.

"I see," she said, clenching her teeth. "Well, in that case, I think we'll just go, then." She didn't bother shutting the door, just took a step back and offered Harry her hand.

For a heart-wrenching moment, she thought he wouldn't take it. But then he shifted and a small, warm hand slipped into hers.

"Okay," he said, his voice soft and lilting.

"Okay," Lily echoed, feeling her lips pull up into a smile. She nodded at James, and white light flashed through the air before her husband pushed his way past the two Dursleys, who were frantically patting themselves in panic.

"Did you really have to?" Lily asked with a slight frown as they left the house only mere moments later.

James snorted, his expression dark. "You know they deserved it, and worse, even."

Lily couldn't exactly deny that, so she simply nodded, before turning her eyes back on their son, who was watching them with wide eyes filled with shock.

"What was that?" he asked, wonder shining in his tone.

Despite herself, Lily found that she was grinning. "That, Harry, was magic. And your father having no self-restraint."

James spluttered in outrage but Lily ignored him with practiced ease.

"I'm sorry," Harry suddenly said. "That… You didn't have to do that."

Lily smiled down at him sadly. "Harry, I would fight with every bone in my body if it meant I could protect you."

"We both would," James added. He remained silent for a beat before injecting cheer into his voice and saying, "Well, what do you both say we go get some ice-cream to celebrate our reunion?"

Harry's eyes grew wide again.

"I think that's a great idea," Lily said. "What do you think, Harry? Do you like ice-cream?"

Harry shrugged. "I… Don't know?"

Biting back on the rage that bubbled up at the answer, Lily forced herself to smile. Getting angry now wouldn't help anyone, and besides, Harry was free now. He was with them, and they would cherish him the way he always should have been cherished.

"Well, then why don't we go find out?"

They had almost reached the main road, far away enough from any prying eyes that no one would notice them summoning the Knight Bus — Lily would have preferred Apparition, but not only was Harry too small for it, but neither she nor James were recuperated enough for it, according to their Healers — when Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?" Lily asked, worry instantly starting to tug at her mind.

Harry looked at them in horror. "I'm still in my pajamas!"

Lily couldn't help it. She laughed. "Don't worry," she said between chuckles, smothering them quickly as Harry's face grew darker, "we can take care of that. James?"

James only waved had to wave his wand and Harry's poorly fitted outfit turned into properly sized pants, shoes, and sweater.

"Wow," Harry said in a breath.

James grinned back. "Now, what do you say we go get that ice-cream?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Lily smiled, and followed.