Code: HP,KHR-KK-MC

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured media, the rights go to their rightful owners.

Media: Harry Potter/ Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Title: Kishi Kaisei

Notable Sub-genres: [Harry Potter | Hibari Kyouya/ Sawada Tsunayoshi] Harry-gets-fed-up-and-leaves-the-Wizarding-World AU. Blood adoption. Harry is Hibari.

Rating: "T" for Crude Language and some mature themes.

Chapter: Multichapter

Status: In-Progress

Lily Evens has just turned eleven-years-old when there's a knock at the door. She'd already opened her presents, her favourite of which was a Hedwig doll she'd wanted last year but hadn't received; a toy that was a character created by Dr Seuss. Tunie and Lily had learnt how to read with his books and she was very fond of his rhymes and the wacky, wonky world he painted in.

Now, she'd blown out her candles on her cake and was waiting for her father to find a blunt knife to allow her to cut into the delicious sponge in front of her. Lily had been to a few birthday parties and knew that it wasn't all that common for someone her age to be allowed to carve into the cake herself, but it'd always been the case for her family and she enjoyed doing it.

The call of a visitor stops her father short from his task. He turns to her mother with some curiosity. 'I thought you said your lot couldn't make it?' he asks as he lowers the knife onto the kitchen counter top, already distracted.

Mummy simply frowned. 'They can't. Jeff's sick so Rose had to stay home,' she responds with a glance towards the hallway and the door that lays beyond. Daddy didn't wait around to ponder the mystery, instead leaving to answer the door before the bell had a change to chine again. It left Lily and Petunia at the kitchen table, staring helplessly at the red velvet cake. Mummy was a baker and always made their cakes; every year she seemed to get better.

The piping for the beautiful white flowers around the base was so realistic that it seemed that if Lily were to reach forward, her finger would brush against a real petal. All Lily wanted as she fidgeted was to try a piece.

Daddy returned with a woman in tow and Lily's eyes were instantly drawn to the stranger. She was a bit younger than her parents, long dark hair pulled up into a tight bun and wearing a black blouse and tartan skirt. She was very professional looking, walked proudly, with her hands interlaced in front of her and her chin jutted forward.

Mummy seems to surprised and Daddy is quick to introduce the stranger. 'Dear, this is - Minerva McGonagall.' He steps aside to allow the woman more room in the entrance of the kitchen, gesturing to present her even if the confusion from his face hasn't quick shifted. 'She's here about Lily-Flower's education.'

'What?' Mummy blinks as she looks uncertainly between Daddy and the lady who curtsies.

'It's nice to meet you, Misses Evans,' McGonagall says with an accent Lily hasn't encountered before, far more used to cockney from the East London area or the RP accent, both of which were very different.

'Er - quite, would you like to sit down?' Mummy asks because manners cost nothing and it'd be rude otherwise. McGonagall inclines her head and lowers herself primly into the seat Daddy pulls out, on the opposite side of the table to Lily and Tunie.

'Thank you.' McGonagall nods and although Daddy comes back to sit between them, Lily is very curious about the lady; finds her intrigue piqued for more than just McGonagall's sudden appearance. When they're gazes meet, Lily finds the woman's light green eyes…familiar.

'Ah…' McGonagall smiles and it softens the harder edges of her stern face. 'You must be Lily.'

Lily straightens and Tunie is quick to pout. 'How'd you guess?'

'Magic,' McGonagall states without a hint of mocking in her tone. The seriousness of her voice is enough to startle her parents even when Lily's stomach alit. 'Because I am a witch and - so are you Lily Evans.'

That'd caused some outrage before McGonagall turns one of their empty chairs into a cat and levitates Lily in her own. The reality of the situation seems to shock near everyone silent as the grapple for footing. 'I am sure the idea will take some getting used to, but I am here to offer you a place at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'

'A place?' Daddy asks warily.

McGonagall. 'It is a wonderful opportunity. We've had our eye on Ms Evans since she was seven.'

'What?' Mummy exclaims. 'H-how -?'

'Why, your young one has had some powerful accidental magic. Muggle-Bird's are, of course, hard for us to find and Hogwarts is England's most prodigious school; these are slim pickings.'

'But you're invested in Lily?' Daddy says as if he needs confirmation.

McGonagall nods. 'Children who have repeated occasions of accidental magic are automatically bought to the attention of the Board of Governors. It's all in accordance with the the Secrecy Act and teaching these young witch and wizards how to control their magical outbursts, however it has the added bonus of giving talented children a chance.'

Lily had been walking on sunshine, so excited and so desperate to look at the bright side with how tense things were at home. She wanted to belong here, to be able to say that everything with Petunia was worth it. Maybe that was why. Maybe that was why she'd been so ignorant to all the corruption and bigotry that had an almost parasitical relationship with magic.

It isn't until one of her best friends calls her "mudblood" that she realises how hate festers in the Wizarding World just like everywhere else, if not more as it had not been taught consequence. Lily's grandpa would've been ashamed, having fought in the second World War for Britain and Europe which had been falling to it's knees in the face of such intolerance that world may never recover from its destruction, however they try to move on.

Ashamed but not surprised, as Grandpa had been a wise man, quiet but he'd inspired her nonetheless.

It was probably with the strength he gave her that allowed Lily to refuse to be stepped on, however intimidating it seemed, to take a stand. Even if all she protected was herself. Because there were so many more pure-bloods or half-bloods than muggle-borns, with tutoring and with more understanding of the cultural that was so closed off to her.

Severus came to Gryffindor to apologise but Lily had only responded his call because he'd become demanding and rude to the second year that had answered the knock on the portal door. Lily would have just cut him off, embarrassed enough at being proven wrong about his nature, hurt at the betrayal and disgust in herself that she'd been so blind.

Instead, Lily forced herself meet him by the portal, the door just open enough for them to have a conversation but she would not go out to meet him and Severus was not welcome inside. He'd looked like a dog with its tail between its legs and Lily marvelled at the gall.

Lily hadn't blinked at the "sorry" he'd mumbled though his distress may have very well been genuine.

'You think that an apology will make up for what you said?' Lily had asked once he'd said his peace and had fallen silent, looking at her expectantly. And of course, that Severus could throw such a horrifying slur her way was terrible but that he said it at all was worse.

"Mudblood" had been added to the Wizarding World vernacular when purebloods had started to bury those with "dirty blood" in the ages of Merlin, before the magic community had retreated from their muggle counterparts. Then it was used to further mock and degrade those who'd survived. It was a terrible thing to say to anyone, rooted in the death of an incalculable number of victims.

Purebloods said it to people they thought beneath them, that they thought so invaluable that they didn't deserved to life. It was an horrendous word and Lily could never, ever condone it. More than that, she should've questioned Severus on the group he'd decided to align himself with in Slytherin, primarily Malfoy, Nott and Macnair. She knew all of them to be racists, far more than simple bullies; they'd been dangerous, but she'd stupidly pushed away the warnings because she'd thought that with the amount of trouble Severus had had with Potter and his ragtag gang, that having other friends besides Lily was a good thing.

Well, birds and a feather and all that. She couldn't turn a blind eye towards it anymore. Enough was enough. He'd shown himself for what he was.

'You can keep your sorries,' Lily had told his wide eyes, dark pits that she once looked at and saw friendship in. 'You were right as it happens: I am a Mud-Blood.' Whatever noise in the common room and been whispering behind her cut out abruptly.

'Lily -' he reaches out but he does not deserve her name nor her presence. Or any part of her. Lily wondered if that rich Prince blood caused clots. Wondered if it shined like gold if he was to be cut open rather than the simple red iron that ran in hers.

'Snape.' She narrowed her eyes, warning him off. Lily swallowed, and ignored the aching of her heart as she leaned in and summoned all the contempt inside her that had managed to build. 'You will not bury me.'

She stepped back, arm still holding the door - always in control of this interaction and is firm in closing it in Severus' floundering face, severing their ties with the same coldness that he had spat that word. Maybe some people would say it was callous, that it was a mistake; a slip of the tongue and that Severus needed someone. Lily was not a Hufflepuff and there had to be a line.

No one else would give her self-worth, she had to have it within herself.

Lily stared in shock at the Daily Prophet, at the headline that announced the death of Charlus and Dorea Potter. They were the third pureblooded family to suffer a loss, the others being the Prewett's and the Bone's. Every murder would be described gruesomely with an almost sadistic flourish. Lily hated this paper, it was a perverse form of journalism but it was the only way to keep track of the war, to gauge the climate.

The rise of a new Dark Lord meant people were dying. At the beginning it had been attacks in muggle areas and although those hadn't stopped, they seemed to have moved closer inward, to the muggleborns and half-bloods that had already invaded. Lily's own life had been threatened in the corridors and classrooms and she was never far from her wand, or a friend whom she knew she could trust.

Many were dying these days. That, however was no excuse for Potter to learn of his Parents' passing from Aron Sigmund, "war correspondent". The aurors as stretched thin as they were, would know of their deaths, they should have sent someone to inform him, as their immediate kin, their only child.

Lily hadn't been very far from where Potter sat on the bench as one of her closet friend's was Alice Alwyn, who'd recently agreed to a courtship with Frank Longbottom, a member of Gryffindor's Quidditch team and seemed not to mind Potter's company. It had the effort of seating her on the opposite side of the table and it'd made her saw the moment he'd clapped eyes on the front page of the paper delivered through Hogwart's subscription.

The graphic photos of Potter's parents - the Potter's who'd used their voices to be outspoken about amoral actions of the new Dark Lord and his party, was set as an example the Daily Prophet hadn't minded sharing. You-Know-Who Deals Another Blow To The Light! just added to the effect.

The photos of Charles - early forties maybe, tortured bloody and missing a limb with his wife - Dorea's who was missing a lot more, was almost too much for Lily to even look at for a second though she'd become almost desensitised from it, but it takes less than for Potter to go absolutely white. The paper falls from his hands and it's like the whole Hall has held its breath. Lily cannot help but gawk, unsure - if anything - what she should do.

Hazel eyes are wide and are almost vacant as they gaze at the table where the article detailing his parents' murder glares up at him. The noise Potter makes as it seems to settle in is something Lily cannot describe and she acts instinctively.

The rest of his gang aren't here as the full moon had just been and gone, with Remus recovering in the Hospital Wing. Black had managed to get detention though this time Lily was sure it hadn't been his fault - not at that time of the month, as they had the good grace not to look for trouble. Pettigrew had the bad habit of sleeping late the next day, with Potter and Black when he was available the only two who managed to be functional after.

This morning it was just Potter and a silent Hall of people frozen stiff with shock. No one deserves this and Lily cannot stop herself from jumping up onto the table, ignorant of the food that was along its service. She knocks over three glasses and a pitcher of pumpkin juice but refuses to flinch away, even when her knee lands in a dish of fried egg and the other is scrapped by something sharp, possibly a knife.

Lily barely notices as her heart pounds with anxiety even when she flings her right hand to push everything away from in front of Potter. The paper, his plate, a mug and a trey of hash browns straight into Longbottom's lap. Lily cannot even offer an apologetic look as after she throws her arms around Potter's quivering shoulders.

Her position is inappropriate, not just because her arse is in the air but that she is touching a boy she was not involved with. Her mother would be horrified but Potter is - he's trembling. His gasping breath heats under her collar and he stifles a sob, two before his own arms hesitantly curl around Lily's back.

Potter had always been so proud of his parents and not in the egotistical way Malfoy could be, but as a loving son. He hadn't ever lorded over his status in the Wizarding World, brought about by birth alone. No, he took pride in who is parents were, rather than what.

He'd always delight in the stance Charlus and Dorea had taken in the war; the words they had spoken for the many victimised, the battles fought in protection and now…

Lily pushes closer, harder, and Potter does the same, strengthens himself until she can feel his nails digging into her shoulders through her robes. Potter cries. It's hushed and stifled, strangled because though there is so much space in the Hall, this is not a safe space. Lily tries to shield him as best as she can; knows that this would be humiliating however justified, however human. There was vulnerability here, weakness that could be exploited and her heart rages at the injustice.

Someone softly clears their throat, a nudge for attention that is unintrusive. Lily looks up to see Headmaster Dumbledore and his regretful eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. Besides him is Professional McGonagall who seems shaken, grey with a misting gaze.

'Mister Potter…' Dumbledore begins before he stops. Potter doesn't so much as twitch against Lily, his face still buried in the nook of her neck. The headmaster readdresses to her, expression grim. 'Pardon, Miss Evans. Would…you mind ever so, if you were to escort Mister Potter to my office?'

Lily wordlessly agrees and tries to shift backwards, to get off of the the tabletop in order to stand, only Potter refuses to let go, doesn't budge and her stomach tightens uncomfortably. Swallowing, she instead moves forward and Alice and Longbottom are quick to take things from her path. It's still awkward and her right foot gets caught up in her skirt at one point as she sits, trying to get her legs up underneath her and has to fix it without untying her arms from Potter's shoulders.

Eventually she's in a position where she can simply shift into Potter's lap and the tight space between the edge of the table and the situation of the bench is tight, enough so that Lily has to wince but her shift has already begun to wet with his tears. Lily cannot begrudge this.

'I'm…I'm not going anywhere,' Lily says when neither of them moves, waiting as she is to feel him start to stand. The professors are thankfully patient otherwise they'd be losing house points for what would no doubt come out of her mouth. 'I'm coming with you, but…you need to get up, can you do that?' she asks gently.

Lily starts to rub the path of his spine and wishes she could just make this better, just make the hurt go away. All the magic couldn't accomplish that though, there were rules. Death was final, life was singular and precious and only eternal once it was gone. 'I won't leave you,' she swears again and hears how her own voice has become thick and weighted in a grief she has no right to. 'I promise, but we need to stand.'

Potter shudders than and slowly, he nods. It's so small she wouldn't have recognised it if she hadn't felt it. A moment later, together, they manoeuvre up in a way that Potter can keep Lily close and separate themselves from the bench and table. She tries to ignore her discomfort because this wasn't about her and the last thing running through this boy's head would be anything improper.

He lifts his head, eyes half-mast with tears clinging to dark lashes like icicles forming in the winter. His face is a mess and his glasses are askew. He stares at her with such heartbreak that she feels her own groan in sympathy, echoing in the tight cavity of her chest. 'The headmaster's office,' she reminds him, gently giving him something else to focus on as she feels the professionals behind her.

Potter blinks at her, breathing in and out through his mouth and her stomach jumps as she starts to fear that he's going into shock but then he wraps an arm around her waist. His fingers tangle themselves up in Lily's robes and she takes a breath. Okay. They begin to leave the Great Hall and she tries not to think about what she's left behind, the newspaper article and months worth of gossip and ridicule, she's tries not to think about how her legs are shaking, how blood is trailing down into her sock from that roody knife.

Instead, Lily tries to anchor herself to Potter, to this boy and how he stumbles, like his legs have lost their way, like he no longer has the foundations to keep him walking. She tries to focus and bear his weight.

Lily, after all, had given Potter her word and she'd be damned if she did not keep it.

Lily's been dating James seriously for six months after learning of the gentleman underneath all that bluster, after gaining an understanding for everyone of his confrontations with Severus which had been her one major hangup on his character and that his interest in her was genuine and heartfelt. He wasn't perfect but he always endeavoured to be better. That the word mudblood had never left his mouth was a boon, that he hated pureblood superiority was another. She knew that no matter what, she'd be safe with him.

Some may say it was a tad early but they moved into a house of their own; a cottage in Godric's Hollow. They lived in a war and life was short and love was the only thing that people seemed to be able to give nowadays.

Their home was not as lavish as Potter Mansion but James wasn't able to spend any length of time there. Lily had thought that was incredibly sad; it was his ancestral home and he'd grown up there but Lily couldn't fault him, understandable as it was to struggle with the loss of not one but both parents.

Their cottage was lovely, it was theirs. Of course, though James had tried to be considerate of Lily in regards to his friends and how much time they got to spend there but she knew how important they were to him, and had had no issue in making the guest bedroom Sirius'. Remus was too proud to live them and Peter had a home of his own but Sirius needed somewhere.

It helped that she had become quite fond of the man herself and that there were safety in numbers. It was a dangerous time and with the failure in the Ministry to put a stop to the Dark Lord and his associates, the Order of the Phoenix had risen to the occasion.

When they weren't fighting blood superiority, they were working. James and Sirius were auror partners while Lily worked on her Charms Mastery. She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do with it yet, just that she knew she was going in the right direction in her elected branch of magic.

Things were - hectic. may be a word, terrifying another. Sometimes Lily needed space and left James feeling insecure. Other instances James took a joke or a prank too far but they learnt one another's boundaries; the lines that they needed to have drawn, the ones they could compromise on because that's what it meant when you loved someone.

And Lily did love him so after a nice dinner in when James got down on one knee in front of her, box in hand that seated a glittering ring set in velvet, Lily wasn't sure what to think. Her chest fluttered with something like hope as she looked into Jame's loving eyes, smiling crookedly like but she existed.

(And she remembered, on that first visit home with James, before her own parents had been caught up in a "gas explosion" what her mother had whispered to her while Dad teased James with the television. 'I like the way he looks at you,' she'd said, approval in the lines of her tired face.)

Swallowing in nervous excitement, the spice of the curry on her tongue, Lily knew she had to ask. 'Is this….' she took a breath. 'This isn't a joke, is it, James?'

James smile softens, shaking his head sheepishly even if the jerks are anxious in a way Lily hadn't quite seen before. His reply, sincere and hopeful guarantees her own.

'I've always been serious about you, Lily.'

Lily is nineteen-years-old and her stomach is barely swollen when she discovers she is carrying another life inside her. James and her are both sat at the kitchen table, the healer having left a short while ago. They are both silent, both mourning. Ordinarily this would have been joyous news but instead it is weighed down with the fear that Lily - never mind the child - may not survive this war.

Lily is a prime target to Voldemort and his Death Eaters - a favourite target. She's desirable , a head in her field of study and married to a pureblood; all things they feel she does not deserve, that she was strong dueller and activity fought against their regime made her future very uncertain in the face of the number who wanted her dead.

She'd been fighting with this vulnerable life in her stomach. Lily had taken missions for the Order and on three separate occasions with James, a couple with Sirius and Remus by her sides, she'd come face-to-face with Voldemort, himself. Lily had taken stupid risks, put her health on the line thinking it had been her own and -

It hadn't been.

Lily had waved away the signs, thought the morning sickness was from the uncertainty, the fatigue from the battles and the injuries and the constant struggle but James had worried, had asked that she have a checkup. With how worn-down James was, she couldn't refuse him. Discovering the developing baby was horrifying. How many times has she almost sentenced this child to death? How many times had she almost damned her own?

'What do we do?' Lily whispered knowing that she was one of the few witches on the front lines; one of their best. She knew it would be a huge blow to their cause if they were to lose, but Lily had never considered abortion before beyond the right for someone to chose. She didn't know if she had that in her. The thought of it alone - Lily had no idea if she could live with herself afterwards…

'My…' James' voice broke. His eyes were shiny, a wet shield of tears. 'My parents…Dad said once that they had given upon children after a few years of trying. Mum - she'd been heartbroken, thought it'd been her fault. But then, they were pregnant. It'd been - they said it'd been a miracle.'

James couldn't really spoke of his parents. He loved them dearly and missed them just as much. It was just something he couldn't get over, however much having Lily and Sirius with him helped but it was very much like slapping a bandaid over a wound that refused to heal.

Sadly, Lily now knew what it was like.

She could offer little though but her hand and her ear. She listens, interlinks their fingers and tries to be the pillar of support he'd been to her with the bigotry she had to deal with, Her own sister's bitter hatred, her parent's deaths and Snape's continuing letters.

'Babies aren't born when they're told, Dad joked,' James murmurs thickly, while being strong enough to allow her to see his tears but stubborn enough to keep them from falling. 'I… in the end, you get the finally say, 'course, but…I can't…'

Lily looks at him and wets her lips as her heart thumps against her rib cage and thinks wildly for a moment if it's hers at all. 'We'll have to look at protections, wards,' Lily offers, an acceptance for the decision they both seemed to have come to. There's a trembling smile, shared trepidation as they eventual stand, together, and lead themselves up the stairs to their room.

They settle on their bed, under plush duvets with Jame's head cushioned against her stomach, arms laid limply on her hips. Lily in turn curls around him, feeds her hands into his impossible hair. In the shadows and the quiet, they surrender to each other.

Born as the seventh month dies under the fire of the sun, Harry James Potter's first cry was a wailing symphony of air and life and magic. He weighed little more than a bag of sugar with frail limbs and think skin. Even so, the world had been waiting for him; Harry with his pitch black hair and bright green eyes, who took equal parts from mother and father. Harry with a heart that beat and bled with the strength that had been foretold to rival darkness.

A monster of his own making.

Lily had named him after her Grandpa, Harrison Evans; a solider who'd been a capable man with the heart of gold, a conscientious objector who'd refused to kill. Someone who'd saved several of his friends under fire despite it all. He should have died but he'd lived and that was all Lily really wanted for Harry.

Labour had been long and harsh, complicated through their living conditions and unable to go to St Mungo's. Poppy had had to come to them, a medi-witch who was really the equivalent of a nurse but she was the only one they trusted and they'd rather risk it than allow an unknown into their space, to their baby.

'Congratulations,' Poppy told them as she handed Harry back after checking his vitals, cleaning him up and wrapping him in a starry blanket. Her eyes were dim and her thin smile was forced upon her mouth but the new parents could hardly blame her. The war was terrible time for everyone but healers especially. A single birth would be a blessing even if it was overwrought with the bittersweet knowledge that age protected no one.

Lily didn't want to think of that though, the first time she held her son. Instead, she marvelled at the little light in her arms as James held her close and Sirius looked on. 'He's…' James falters, breath catching in his throat as he gets a good look at their baby over her shoulder. 'He's beautiful.'

Lily nods in agreement as she stretches her neck to the side while ignoring the discomfort the pain potion can't quite mask, to kiss James on the cheek. 'Thank you,' she whispers with no explanation, knowing he would understand.

James swallows thickly, eyes red and glazed as he looks between her and their baby. He squeezes her a little tighter and her mind flashes back to the Great Hall, to that one decision which probably changed the direction of her life. He whispers back an "I'm sorry."

And Lily understands, too.

'Peter,' Lily calls after the man, before he can leave. Out of all James' friends, she knew him the least, close as she was to Remus and as much as she loved Sirius, Peter was always coming and going. He was sort of like that fair-weathered friend who was never that involved but who was never fully gone either. That type of wishy washy-ness didn't endear Peter to Lily, but now, with what he'd agreed to do for them…

Lily trusted her idiot husband and his idiot pseudo-brother and Sirius had suggested Peter to replace him as their Secret Keeper, because it'd be less obvious, be safer with Peter going into hiding. It was, it was a good idea but would Peter be able to do what Sirius would to keep them safe? To ensure that the Secret was never spoken?

Peter turns, close to the door to address her. He wasn't a particularly attractive man but he smiles something strained as she tries to lessen the gap between them. 'Lily,' he acknowledges, tone shy almost stuttering. Lily silently wondered ho the survived with his strongest friends such formidable men. 'I-I was just on my way out…'

The Fidelius Charm had been cast, and the last of their protections were in place. Still, Lily stares at him and how he can't quite meet her eye as he shifts from one leg to another. 'You'll keep him safe, won't you?' she asks as James and Lily could look after themselves. They are not at as much risk but their son - their son who couldn't yet wield his wand or call upon his magic to help him would be in danger until this war was over.

'Of course I will,' Peter responds and Lily tries to nod in gratitude but she can't help the anxiety even as she says goodbye.

'Harry…be safe,' she whispered to the winds, a prayer to anything that could hear. 'Be strong.'

They will be her last words to her son, words that Lily hopes beyond hope could somehow reach him; a plea, a desperate appeal to the world on behalf of her baby who'd been born tangled in Fate's marionette strings. She cursed the prophecy, self-filling though it was, that had painted an even larger target on their backs.

It was too late now. In a fit of complacency neither James nor she had their wands on their person, too much time off the front lines lulling them into a false sense of security. It had brought Lily to her knees in front of Harry, whom she had placed in his crib while whispering words she hopes he'll remember, internalise.

The barricade against the door wouldn't last, and she knew like she knew that James would die - would already be dead, that she was soon to follow. 'Take him and run!' he'd said, like he didn't know he didn't have a wand. James and put Harry into her arms and forced her to move. Neither of them had been able to say goodbye but that was okay.

It was okay because they'd see each other again, after Harry was safe.

It was why James had sacrificed himself, why Lily had run with her heart in her arms and her life in her eyes. Depositing Harry into his Charmed crib, Lily just hoped it would be enough for their last resort.

Lily gazes into her son's eyes and it's like looking into a mirror that shows her where she has been. She gazes at him and tries not to cry as she whispers words she wishes to imprint onto his very skin, so that during times she will not be there for - for all the things they will miss and be unable to share, he shall only have to look at his own flesh to know where he came from.

Time is always short when it's running out and Lily wants Harry to know between trying to fit an entire lifetime of I love you's in mere moments that living is hard but it is so, so worth it. That there would be misgivings but a thousand blessings to make up for it.

She wants to be able to tell him that hate is heavy and that it its a burden that she doesn't want him to carry, that love is hard to find sometimes but its value is beyond compare. Lily needs to be able to teach Harry that fighting is difficult but there were some battles he wouldn't be able to run away from, that there were some wars that he would have to pick a side to.

But I love you is all Lily can manage; is all she is able to give as the door is blasted open. The wood splinters and rans around them like the very house is mourning the inevitable. Tears sting her own eyes as she looks the murder who had just murdered her husband, the man who'd waited for her, the man who'd given her a beautiful baby boy.

A murderer who'd given everything up, who'd destroyed everything he was and could have been, a coward who'd run away from their reality; from their mortality. A Dark Lord who had made his life so incredibly small.

Lily had never completely seen eye-to-eye with Dumbledore, maybe she was just too muggle, but one of the truest things he'd ever said was Voldemort's beginning. Lily thinks as she stands, Harry at her back, that this could have been prevented.

If there was just little less bigotry, a little more acceptance she would be here to see Harry get his first Hogwarts' letter. Lily might've been able to experience his first trial and error with a broom. She could have met his first friends, teased him on his first crush. She could have congratulated him on his grades or helped tutor him. Lily would have been able to welcome his partner into her home, be able to meet his own blessed children should he have any. Lily would have been able to experience all life's ups and downs with him.

But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride and that was a fantasy. Here and now, the only thing Lily can do to ensure Harry's survival is to give up her own. She would do it without regret because she was his mother. She would do it.

In front of cold, uncaring red eyes, Lily begins to beg, knowing already that he would not see through her. That they forget she is more than just a pretty face despite her forget that her being a muggleborn - a mudblood - doesn't make her any less of a Charms prodigy.

Her own on the the runs on the ceiling and under the carpet had been a secret told unto no one but her husband who would be lying dead downstairs, alone like she was now. Runes she activities as she refuses to move out of the way like Voldemort demands. It's elder magic; Dark, something she'd picked up in one of the books Sirius had given her.

Magic required balance in all things: a life for a life and Lily had no problem with giving Harry what was left of her's.

Harry will live.

She had made sure of it.

Con/textual Vomit: Okay, this story has been in my files for ages. I decided between working on my other updates just to finish this chapter before it gets forgotten in-between other old documents. A bit rough but I actually really think writing Lily :).

The title "Kishi Kaisei" is another Japanese provides that means 'Wake from death and return to life".

Oh! And I know that Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter nee Black have been confirmed not to be James' parents. I also know that the Potter's were not in fact apart of the Sacred Twenty-Eight for some reason (I mean, it says on the wiki that it was for their pro-Muggle viewpoints but c'mon. The Weasley's are on that stupid list. The Potters have to be older, with their connection to the Three Brothers so considered more respectful to the other darker Pureblooded families). Either way, I don't really care. Funny how that works with fan fiction hmmm? XD

(Original Upload: 06/ 03/ 17) (09/03/18)

OZ