I sit down on the comfortable sofa perched on what, for all intents and purposes, appears to be a rainbow suspended in space amidst a black expanse littered with shimmering stars. On a bare, wooden chair - ridiculously Spartan compared to my own luxurious couch - sits the black-haired man I'm here to speak with.
I raise my palm up and a floating ball glides into the air, hovering above us – a flurry of runes and numbers scampering across the surface of the translucent sphere.
And the man speaks.
"Sometimes," he rasps, "The tiniest perturbations can move mountains. Split-second changes can move worlds. The hand of fate is sometimes little more than a mere nudge."
Halloween, 1981 at Godric's Hollow
Lily froze in place. She started breathing in spurts, loud and heavy, shivering uncontrollably in fear. She wove a web of magic around her, making frantic gestures with her wand and pushing runes into place on the wooden floor.
James, who had been shouting at her to take Harry and go, was no longer screaming. There was now no noise at all – no sounds of struggle, no hum of wards. The very air around her seemed to cringe and hang suspended in fear. There was a fell silence in the house. And then… sinister footsteps began to ascend the stairway. She felt her hair stand on end.
This is it, Lily. This was what the ritual had been for. Sacrifice. Death. The binding of souls.
And then the footsteps stopped just outside her door. Lily spun around and faced the door.
"No, no, no, no," she chanted feverishly, holding up her wand and trembling in fear.
But then she looked at her little baby peering up at her from the cradle – his wide green eyes gazing up at her own, brimming with tears. She had to do this. For Harry.
And then the silence burst to give way to a loud boom as the door burst into pieces.
"NO!" Lily screamed, and cast a shield around Harry. Pieces of wood tore into her skin and flew by, but splashed harmlessly against her shield. Harry was safe.
Lily frantically wiped blood from her face and looked at the terrible apparition that had appeared in their home. In her home.
"No, please," she pleaded frantically, "No, not Harry, take me… please… not Harry…"
"Step aside, foolish girl," the apparition said in a voice that sent a chill down her spine.
"Please," she muttered, dropping to her knees, not letting go of her wand. A thread of magic seemed to sizzle in place, connecting her to her son. She tensed in anticipation.
And then, another voice joined in the commotion, bursting into the bedroom and pulling at her arms. Frantically, Lily looked around with tear-stained eyes, hoping, pleading for a rescuer, but it wasn't a rescuer.
Amid the ruins of the bedroom stood a man she reviled with all her heart. Beetle black eyes glimmered beneath greasy hair as she looked into the face of a very fearful Severus Snape. He was gasping for breath.
"My lord!" a frantic voice screamed, "Lily! Please! Listen to the Dark Lord!"
"NO!" she screamed, trying to tear her hand out of his grasp.
"Lily! James is dead!" Severus yelled at her, "I am your only salvation!"
Lily pursed her lips and a curse burst out of her wand, slamming into place between her and Severus, tearing her arm out of his grasp.
"You… you dare," she spat at him, "You dare…"
"Enough," Voldemort whispered, and the room grew chilly, all at once, as if all that was once good and holy was draining away. Lily's breath came out in cold wisps and she trembled, cowering before Voldemort.
"Please…" she said, just as Severus whispered, "Lily…"
"Severus," the Dark Lord whispered menacingly, "You have disobeyed me. I thought I had told you to stay behind."
"My Lord… I…" Severus said frantically.
"My orders are binding, Severus," Voldemort said coldly, and casually waved his wand. "I do not forgive disobedience. Nonetheless, I would be willing to forgive you, Severus… if it was not for one small caveat. If you followed me here, Severus, you must have been outside this pathetic little cottage right before I decided to drop in."
"My Lord… I…" Severus repeated, backing away.
"You know where I'm going with this, I suppose," Voldemort said casually, not taking his eyes off a crouching Lily, "I suppose you saw the little… ritual… I performed outside this house, did you not?"
Severus seemed to hesitate for a split second. Then, all at once, words tumbled out of his mouth. "My Lord… I… I only saw you do something with your blood… some sort of blood ritual. I… did not recognize the ritual. I do not…"
"But you did see me do something you should not have," Voldemort said, "Something that is no doubt beyond you at this very moment. But, the problem, you see, is that you're a very clever wizard, Severus. Had Crabbe, or perhaps, Nott, seen me do this, I would not have blinked an eyelid – for they do not have the prowess that you do. But you do have prowess and the resources to find out exactly what sort of ritual I performed this night Severus, and I cannot risk that information getting out."
"My Lord, I submit myself to a Memory Charm," Severus said frantically, "Just… please… spare me… I have been your faithful servant…"
"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort said abruptly, pointing his wand straight at Severus.
There was no time to recoil, no time to mourn. Lily instinctively threw her wand out, binding the ritual she had been working on to Severus instead of her – she did not know why she did so… it was instinct, perhaps, or some small nudge by the hands of fate.
Then, the Dark Lord brought his wand to bear on her.
"Avada Kedavra," he said.
And she knew no more.
A few hours later at Privet Drive, Surrey
"She would not want this, Albus," Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry said to the Headmaster of the same school, "Lily would not have… I don't think… I don't think she's ever even mentioned her sister."
They were walking away from Number Four, Privet Drive, where they had just entrusted little Harry Potter to the care of one Petunia Dursley - Lily's sister - enveloped by the best protection charms and wards they could place on the infant.
Albus Dumbledore sighed. "Lily never spoke of her sister with malice, Minerva," he said, "Harry is her nephew. I'm not quite convinced Lily and her sister were on less than cordial terms."
"I don't know, Albus," Minerva said, unsure, "What did the will say? The Potters must have had a will, right?"
"The will entrusted him to the care of Sirius Black," Albus said, frowning.
"Of course!" Minerva said, "Give him to Sirius!"
"Minerva," Albus said, cutting her off sharply, "The Potters were living under a Fidelius Charm. Who do you think was their Secret Keeper?"
Minerva furrowed her eyebrows as she connected the pieces together. And then she gasped. "Sirius?" she asked, stupefied, "No… never… I…"
"Indeed," Albus sighed, "I'm trying to get a hold of the young man as we speak, Minerva. Alastor and Cornelius are on his trail – we can only hope that Voldemort merely found a way to circumvent the protection. Or perhaps, he wrung it out of Sirius through some fearsome magic. We can only hope, Minerva, that Sirius is innocent."
Minerva stared, wide-eyed, at Albus. "I… just cannot believe it. Sirius must be innocent, Albus," she said.
Albus nodded at her morosely.
"So James is…?" she asked.
"The aurors swept the area, Minerva," Albus said, "James has… passed on."
"Merlin."
"And so has Severus."
"That still confounds me, Albus. What was Severus doing there? Wasn't he supposed to be working for us?" Minerva asked, "Did he not defect to you?"
Albus looked up at the stars. "I do not control him, Minerva," he said, "But I did not entirely trust Severus either. I kept him under close watch, and yet he eluded me this night. More than ever, it truly reminds me how vulnerable I truly am, and how far from omniscient I really am… but it does appear that he managed to pull a fair amount of wool over my eyes. Or perhaps not – perhaps he was trying to prevent Lord Voldemort from massacring the Potters and got caught in the crossfire. We may never know, old friend."
"And Severus is dead too?" Minerva asked.
"Indeed," Albus said, "And the aurors found that it was by Voldemort's wand. Which obviously does not make this mysterious sequence of events any easier to fathom."
"But if he died at the Dark Lord's hand," Minerva asked, "Surely that must mean he was trying to help the Potters?"
"Does it?" Dumbledore asked, still staring up at the sky, while running his fingers through his beard, "Or does it mean that Severus was working for Voldemort, but lost his will at the last minute when Lily was about to die? And if he was on the Potters' side, why did he not alert the Order, Minerva? Why did he not tell me?"
"I… see," Minerva said, after a short pause.
They walked together to the very end of the short street and turned to each other.
"But… Lily," Minerva asked tentatively, "Is she…?"
Albus furrowed his brow as he pondered the question. "I do not know, Minerva," he said, "She appears to be in a certain… limbo, as it were. Neither alive, nor dead. She seems to be teetering on the very brink of what we would call a coma… but it's so much more than just a mere coma. She literally seems to alternate between the two, blinking in and out of tangibility."
"Tangibility?" Minerva breathed.
"At times," Albus said, "The healers claimed they could pass their hands right through her body. She seems to be winking in and out of existence, Minerva."
"Merlin!"
"Indeed."
"It's a precarious situation," Minerva said, "Sirius a betrayer… perhaps. Severus a traitor… perhaps. Lily is alive… perhaps."
"Which is why it's important for Harry to be safe with people that care for him," Albus said fervently.
"And yet," Minerva said, "I cannot help but feel that when Lily wakes up… if she wakes up… she's going to be really, really mad."
29 May, 1993 at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Janus Thickey Ward
Miriam Strout, Healer in charge of the ward for long-term residents of St Mungo's had just finished shepherding poor Frank Longbottom back to his bed when her trainee – Jane Delaney – came rushing to her side and started tugging at her sleeve.
Miriam sighed as she finally managed to wrench the curtain shut around a whimpering Alice Longbottom, who was begging her for more bubblegum wrappers, and turned around to face a very red-faced Jane. "What?" she asked in a harried tone, "What is it?"
Jane just caught her wrist in an iron grip and physically pulled her to face the bed of a long-term comatose patient within the ward.
The curtains, which were usually wrenched close unless someone wanted to go in or out, were now wide open. And a very wide-awake Lily Potter was staring groggily at both Miriam and Jane.
"Merlin," Miriam whispered, "It actually worked. Dumbledore's cure actually worked. She's awake!"