Prologue

The attic. As she climbed up the creaky old stairs to the top part of the house, she pondered what it was that she would find there. She stepped over the threshold and gazed upon the dust covered trunks, furniture, boxes of what had at one time held important things. Seeing the mess, she realized that the attic hadn't been cleaned out in years, perhaps even in centuries. She could be done with the job in a matter of seconds with a wave of her wand, but no, she wanted to sort through each little piece and see if she could find anything that was remotely interesting. She decided to start in the far corner where there was a pile of trunks that looked old and interesting.

Moving carefully among the clutter, she made her was to that corner. Not afraid to use magic to clear away the dust and make the air breathable, she muttered a quick cleaning spell and the dust and cobwebs vanished. Settling down on the floor, she tried to open the first trunk. It wouldn't budge. Sighing, she realized that magic would have to come into play if she were to get anywhere. With a flick of her wrist, she muttered, "Alohomora." The trunk's lid sprang open with a snap and banged against the piles behind it.

Gazing inside, she found sets of old robes and school things. Lifting up the first garment, she was amazed at the quality of the work. "Focus Hermione," she muttered to herself. "Remember the mission. You're here to look for anything useful to the Order. And remember too that you can't use magic unless you have to. He's less likely to find you and be able to trace it."

Knowing that it would be hard to keep her focus, she returned her gaze to the contents of the trunk. After quickly surveying the remainder of the items, she decided that the old clothes and school things were not at useful for the Order. Moving the trunk aside, she started on the next one. On and on she went, sorting through the trunks, setting aside items that may be useful, discarding the rest. After working steadily for several hours, she came upon some books.

The books were old, obviously, as were most things in the attic. Hermione gently lifted the first tome from the trunk. Brushing the dust off of the cover, she studied the book. It was not like any sort of spell book or other magical book she'd ever seen. In fact, it didn't look magical at all. It was a small leather bound book, the type that could be found in any Muggle stationary store. She recognized it as a type of journal. But whose journal could it be? Looking past the volume held in her hands into the trunk, she realized that the entire trunk was filled with these journals. What a treasure trove! Perhaps by reading the journals, written by some unknown person, she'd find something useful for the Order. Settling back against the wall, she conjured up a couple of cushions to make herself comfortable and opened the journal she held in her hands.

"This diary is the property of Lillian Michelle Evans, age 8," was written in a childish scrawl across the first page.

Hermione gasped. She'd never in her wildest dreams expected to come across a diary belonging to Harry's mum. She knew that Harry had no idea of its existence otherwise he'd have read them long ago. There had to be at least a dozen of diaries in this trunk! All belonged to Lily. Hermione's mind was swirling with questions that she longed to know the answers to. How did a trunk full of Lily's journals survive the destruction of the house in Godric's Hollow? Why weren't they given to Harry years ago? Did anyone even know of their existence? All Hermione knew was that she had to read them. They belonged to Harry and if there was something, some piece of information, no matter how small,in them, then she had to find out. Anything to help Harry.

Settling back against the cushions, she began to read Lily's life story in her own words.