Lily Potter and The Last Wizard

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole intellectual property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, and the ideas and characters used in this story are strictly for noncommercial purposes only.

Chapter 1 - Perdition

…Helplessness…
…Frustration…
…Humiliation…
…Nothingness…
…Despair…
…Silence…
…Pain…
…Light…
…Voices…
…a presence…

Can you hear me?

Was he imagining it? He strained to hear. Then he realized he couldn't hear, because he had no ears. No body, no substance.

He fought against his nonexistence. Here! I'm here!

There was no response.

HERE!

Still no answer. An eternity passed. Then slowly…slowly…the void took shape.

"Is it you?"

Not just a thought—he heard it! He could see!

He was surrounded by white light. An indistinct figure floated in front of him. As he stared, he realized he was in an infant's body. Floating in the whiteness, he drifted towards the figure, hopeful beyond words.

The figure became clearer—and he was stunned. It couldn't be!

"Help me!" he cried. Literally.

"I'm here," said the voice. With that, an overwhelming flood of emotion poured out of him, astonishing him in its intensity and content.

Strange words poured from his mouth: "I'm sorry," he babbled, over and over again. "Please, forgive me—"

"It's all right, I'm here to help." He felt a feeling so strange it was as if it were the first time he had ever felt such an emotion.

He was feeling joy.

"Do you know who you are?" the woman asked.

Thinking about it, he realized he didn't. Who am I? His ignorance alarmed him. But details were assembling rapidly; before him the white void was taking shape. Ghostly memories began to dance around him. And in an instant, the pieces came together.

He was dead! And it was because of the BOY!

All his fear and terror turned to rage. An inchoate scream spewed from his mouth. His pathetic limbs flailed in helpless fury.

"I must know something, my son," the woman said gently. He stared at her, at the woman who, when he learned who she was, had once stirred nothing but anger and contempt. Now he was wary. Something is not right…

Straining to be nonplussed, he said mildly: "What has happened to me? What is going on?"

"You know what happened," she replied. But he didn't. He was completely ignorant of what had happened, where he was, how long ago it had happened, and most important—why.

"Am I a ghost?"

"Perhaps."

"Are you?"

"Perhaps. There are many mysteries about death which I do not know the answers."

Fidgeting, he said: "I don't understand."

"I don't, either. But I know one thing that we both share." She paused. "We both want revenge."

Finally she was making sense! "Yes, yes; revenge!" The path ahead was suddenly clear. "You must do what I say, so that I can be reborn—"

"That is impossible; we are beyond the concerns of life."

He was horrified. "No! I must return, I must have revenge—"

"—You cannot, but I can. Just tell me what I need to know."

Her words confused him. "What do you mean, you can? You're dead as well?" He was about to argue more, but she held up a hand. He fell silent.

She hesitated. Finally, she said: "I died a long time ago. But I can relay your knowledge to those who can use it."

Now he was angry; angry because he was so helpless, and that he would have to put himself in her power. Dependency on anyone was a weakness, usually a fatal one. But if I am dead, then what else do I really have to fear?

Suddenly, he felt confident. I have survived Death! And having done so, he would be able to come back to the living world and have his vengeance; of that, he was certain.

Very well. My mother was a fool in life; I'm sure I can outwit her in death. Solemnly, he said: "Mother, what do you want to know?"

A pause. "You have been abandoned," she said slowly. "All who follow you are dead, or have renounced your name."

He hissed in anger. Responding to her quizzical look, he said resignedly: "A danger I had foreseen. I had found even the purest of blood were often weak and cowardly. No doubt with my demise, they would be hesitant, like the first time I appeared to die." He paused. "But surely, some of the pure blood must be trying to carry on?"

"There are none. The pure blood of Wizardry fades to nothingness."

Her words shocked him. How could it have gone wrong so quickly? Once again, he was filled with anger and despair, but this time despair won out.

"They must be punished. And you know how to do it."

Slowly he focused his infant eyes on her, unable to hide his puzzlement and concern.

"You have a secret weapon," she said at last. "Something which no witch or wizard can resist. Tell me what it is."

Now he felt true fear. Yes. In life, I had left no corner of magical knowledge unexplored, and if she is referring to what I think she is, she wants knowledge of the darkest magic of all. Even he, at the height of his powers, had never dared use it, for it was too horrible to comprehend, even for himself. If there was anything worse than death, that would have been it.

Having researched, then mastered this most terrible of all magic, he had destroyed all traces of his work. The only knowledge of it had been hidden deep inside his own mind, concealed behind memories of memories, existing only in dreams of dreams. And as he unraveled the barriers within, he was satisfied to find that it had survived even second death.

It was truly a terrible thing to behold. But he was now very suspicious. "If you know of it, why do you need me?"

For the first time, his mother appeared nervous. Haltingly, as if she didn't know what she was going to say, she stammered: "I don't know what it is. But… being my son… I knew that you would have a secret weapon. Not only would you have Horcruxes to secure your life for eternity… you would also have… something… to ensure no wizard would dare rise against you… once you came to power."

Her words chilled her, for indeed that was what he had originally hoped for this magic. Only even I was too afraid to use it. But now, what had been his second-most precious asset was merely information which apparently could not yet be used. Far more important that I gain her trust and use her to return to the living.

Of course, if she put his knowledge to use, there would not be much of a wizarding world left to return to. But that prospect, which he had so feared in life, did not faze him. They are unworthy, he thought contemptuously. Even the so-called pureblood. Let them suffer the Ultimate Death—just as long as I am there to see it!

The prospect of revenge was so sweet! Carefully hiding his eagerness, he said: "Very well. I shall tell you what I know." Slowly and carefully, he explained the magic so foul no wizard had ever dared to give it a name, lest it infect them merely by thinking of it.

After what seemed like hours, she nodded. "Thank you, my son. Is there anything else I need to know?"

Finally beginning to feel in charge of the situation, he shook his head and said smoothly: "Now that I have shared with you, you must do something for me in return. I think I know some spells which can help bring me back, all you have to do is follow—"

There was a terrible shriek: "Monster, I no longer need listen to you!" The image of his mother was distorting, twisting into something terrible to behold.

He screamed in fear, a fear prompted not only by her twisted form. "Wait, we had a deal!"

"You were mistaken… thing!" The creature screamed. "Now that I have what I want, I return you to your place of eternal damnation!"

As it spat those words, to his utter horror everything was starting to disappear, including his newborn form.

"Wizards shall pay for their crimes," the creature said. "We shall be avenged."

"What are you?" he screamed as everything faded away.

I am Nothing... as you shall forever be…

NO!

…
…
…Helplessness…
…Frustration…
…Humiliation…
…Nothingness…
…Despair…
…Silence…
…Pain…
…Helplessness…
…Frustration…
…Humiliation…
…Nothingness…
…Despair…
…Silence…
…Pain…
…Helplessness…
…Frustration…
…Humiliation…
…Nothingness…
…Despair…
…Silence…
…Pain…
…Helplessness…