Author's note:

I truly appreciate all and any feedback, including constructive comments.

Please note that this story is/will be split up into the following books which will all be posted here:

Book 1: Lily Potter and the Villain in the Valley (Prologue & 1st year)

Book 2: Lily Potter and the Deadly Duel (2nd & 3rd Year)

Book 3: Lily Potter and the Blood Oath (4th & 5th year)

Book 4: Lily Potter and the Incurable Curse (6th & 7th year)

Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, nor her incredible wizarding world. I would also like to let readers know that I have taken inspiration from various sources, all of which I do not own, including The Canterville Ghost (Oscar Wilde), The Diary of Samuel Pepys (Samuel Pepys), The Song of the Lioness Quartet (Tamora Pierce) and Gilmore Girls (Amy Sherman-Palladino).

You can also follow this story on tumbler at: /blog/lilylysanderscorpius

It was an unusually cold winter evening in the small wizarding village of Thiramard. During the summer months the village is full of colour and life as its inhabitants fill the cobblestone streets; shopping, strolling, playing. On this evening however there was not another sole to be found and the clouds hung low in the valley. This suited Josephus Durer just fine. He had considered avoiding the village streets altogether but on a day like this it seemed to him that he would appear a more suspicious sight if he were to be seen walking over the hills through the farmland, for who on their right mind would take a stroll on a day such as this. Besides, though he did not know the address, he was in search of the most famous inhabitant of this village, perhaps the most famous wizard in all the magical world and it seemed the best way to find him would be to find the largest, most expensive looking house in the area. He was having trouble however as all the homes in Thiramard, whilst well-kept and pretty, were rather quaint and humble. He had looped around the small village several times and of all the houses, the most promising was a tall but slender three story whitewashed one with red tiles on the roof and a lily pond out the front. The house sat on a hill high above the village, overlooking the valley. Durer could make out a number of brooms set on racks on the outer walls, indicating that either a quiddich fanatic or a rather large family lived there. Or perhaps both.

As Durer made his way out of the valley and up the hill a harsh wind riped through his hair, painfully chilling his ears. He felt a shudder down his spine as he considered what might happen if this was indeed the house he was looking for. Durer knew this was the last place he should be, the last place anyone would expect him to be. But he also knew that he must speak with Harry Potter.

As soon as he arrived at the small wooden front door he was instantly confident that he had found the right place; there were several strong shielding charms preventing him from stepping close enough to the door to knock. This was a house that only the invited may enter. Whilst he was certain that Potter would not allow him past the threshold, he felt he had no choice but to attempt to speak with him. Though he had of course never personally met the great Harry Potter he had heard that he was a just man and hopefully that would be enough to impel him to, at the very least, listen to what Durer had to say before Potter did what he was bound to do; send him to Azkaban.

The thought of Azkaban made Durer's voice come out in a horse whisper.

'Mr Potter' he called weakly to the door.

Gathering his courage, he yelled desperately.

'MR POTTER!'

The only sound in response was the whistling of the wind. He had come all this way, risked so much just to find an empty house. But of course, he smiled wryly to himself, though it was a Sunday evening, the ministry had been put on high alert in search for what they feared was the most violent, disturbed wizard they had seen since He Who Must Not Be Named. Potter must be out somewhere else hunting for him. But Durer did not want to meet Potter when he was in the company of dozens of other aurors. He wanted a chance to talk with him alone.

He would have to wait; to hide somewhere outside the house until Potter returned. The feeling of exhaustion that Durer had been fighting for the last few days suddenly overwhelmed him at the thought of more hiding in the dark. The ground was still wet from last night's storm and his clothes were all but wet rags from all the time he had spent sleeping in forests. Even still he pulled them tighter around himself and let his legs give way behind a small shed at the back of the house. He sat leaning against the tin wall, allowing himself the liberty of closing his tired eyes for just a few moments.

When he opened them again, he started in surprise, hitting his back noisily on the tin. Staring out of the grass in front of him was a pair of small bright emerald eyes.

'Aren't you cold sir?'

It was the voice of a young girl. Durer blinked the dew out of his eyelashes and peered over at her. He could make out a freckled nose and some strands of deep red hair falling over her tiny face.

'Yes' He answered in a small, coarse voice.

He could not think of what else to say and was trying to decide whether it would be best to run.

The small girl stood up from where she had been crouched down in the grass in front of him and he could see that she was very young indeed. Perhaps four or five years old. Her deep red hair seemed like it would normally come down past her shoulders but it was in such a knotty mess, with strands of grass sticking out here and there that it did not quite make it down that far. She was wearing a blue tartan dress which she seemed to have gotten incredibly muddy somehow. Her little white socks were stained with flicks of mud and great slops of it stick to the bottom of her sandals.

'Why are you sitting there then?' She asked curiously.

Durer had intended to lie. He had thought to say he was a lost traveller, but as he looked into those strikingly green eyes, he felt the truth slip from his mouth.

'I'm waiting for Mr Potter to come home… I want to speak with him'

'You want to talk to daddy?' The little girl's eyes studied him uncertainly.

But of course, Durer thought. This must be Potter's daughter. His youngest child. She had the same eyes as her father. Durer had seen photos of these eyes in the Daily Prophet but they were far more striking in the flesh.

'It's very important' Durer said to her in earnest.

Her small freckled face gave nothing away as she continued to stare at his face as though trying to read something. There was a long pause in which Durer hung his head and reflected on the danger of what he was doing in talking to Potter's daughter.

'Alright'

Durer looked up in surprise as the little girl came towards him. She took his rough hand in her little soft one and pulled him towards the back door of the house. Durer was in shock at the contact. He could not remember the last time he had spoken to someone, let alone was touched by them. He was suddenly painfully aware of the damp odour of his clothes and the sticky sweaty feeling of his skin. Potter's daughter appeared unfazed by either of these things however as she stood on the tip of her toes in order to reach up to and turn the back-door knob.

The pair walked uninhibited through the doorway. Durer noted in astonishment that the small girl's congenial welcome into her home seemed to have disabled all shielding charms.

'We have to take off our shoes' the girl said with a look of distaste on her face as though she had been taught to do so by her parents but was not entirely convinced about the necessity of the rule. Durer nodded in silence and the unfamiliar feeling of a smile took hold of his face as he placed his sodden boots next to her sandals. Though he had been living in the wild for weeks, the dirtiness of his boots was no match for the slathering of mud, insects and grass clippings which she had somehow seemed to collect through one morning of adventures in her garden.

Within a matter of minutes Durer was sitting comfortably covered in blankets in a chair at Potter's kitchen table with a hot mug of English breakfast in front of him. He watched the small girl bring over a rather large, lumpy chocolate cake on a glass cake stand through the wafts of steam coming from his mug.

'We can have this sir, because you are a guest' the knotty haired girl explained defensively. Durer chuckled to himself; perhaps this was why she was so willing to let in a stranger.

After carefully cutting two enormous slices and placing one on a saucer in front of Durer, Potter's daughter sat on the chair opposite him slowly shovelling forkfuls of cake into her tiny mouth whilst watching him.

Now that he was warm and comfortable for the first time in weeks, Durer reluctantly let his guard down. The logical part of his mind knew he was still very much in danger but the combination of exhaustion from his time on the run and the charm of the little red-haired girl slowly covering her mouth with smudges of chocolate icing forced a wave of relief to wash over him. The girl seemed content in silently staring at him but Durer, who was on the brink of falling into a peaceful slumber upright on the chair broke the silence to keep himself awake.

'What's your name?'

The girl waited until she had finished slowly and carefully devouring the forkful she had started before answering; 'Lily, sir'.

Durer waited expecting her to return the question to this stranger she had taken into her house but she continued munching away, silently examining his face.

'Do you like chocolate Lily?' Durer asked, for lack of anything else to say, taking a fork to his own piece.

Lily nodded, taking a sip of tea.

'Daddy makes excellent chocolate cakes' she said fondly.

Durer's fork froze mid-way to his mouth as he realised he was eating a cake made by Harry Potter of all wizards.

'Mr. Potter made this?'

Lily nodded again unfazed by the incredulousness in his voice.

'Daddy is good at making cakes. Even James eats them and he usually doesn't eat sweeties'

'James?'

'My silly brother'

'And where is your brother?' It dawned on Durer that they may in fact not be alone in the house.

Lily shrugged 'We were playing outside but he flew off to see John'.

'…and the rest of your family?'

'Albus has gone with mummy to visit grandma and grandpa'

Durer was relieved. So all of the family was out of the house. He could only hope that Mr. Potter would be the first to return.

'Daddy is off looking for a very bad wizard' Lily offered.

Durer stared at her with weary eyes. Did she recognize him after all?

'Oh and Te-' Lily began.

'Do you know who I am Ms. Lily?' Durer cut her off.

'No sir. Do you work with my daddy?'

'no… not quite' Durer hesitated; he had not decided how he would explain himself.

'Oh!' Lily exclaimed in excitement, 'Do you work at Hogwarts?' she dropped her fork and leant forward wide eyed, both hands on the table.

'No…' Durer admitted, finding it difficult to lie on the spot to such a small child and yet knowing he must come up with some kind of cover.

'But did you go to Hogwarts? When you went to school sir?' Lily seemed to have completely forgotten the subject at hand in her excitement.

'yes-' Durer chuckled, relieved she had changed the subject.

'and which house were you in sir? Did you go to Hogsmeade on the weekends? Did you play quiddich? Which position?' a waterfall of questions poured out of Lily's mouth.

'Ravenclaw. I would say so and no, you aren't too fond of flying are you Durer?'

Lily and Durer spun quickly around in surprise to where Harry was standing in the kitchen doorway, his wand raised and with a terrified looking Teddy holding on to his trouser leg.

'Daddy!' Lily exclaimed. 'Don't be cross, we only had a little piece each'.

'Lily, get out of the kitchen now' Harry's commanded her.

Lily, who was not used to hearing a stern tone from her father gave him a sulky look and pushed her cake-smudged plate away as she got down from her chair.

'Goodbye sir' she mumbled. 'Tell me about Hogwarts next time'

'Lily!' Harry yelled.

'Tell me about Hogwarts next time, please' Lily repeated sulkily without looking back as she walked toward the kitchen door. Teddy rushed over and though he was still a small child of 10 years himself, picked her up and whisked her away into the living room.

Durer, knowing this might be his last moments as a free wizard; perhaps his last moments alive if things were to go terribly bad, found himself somehow calm. Calm enough to feel charmed by Lily's innocence and allow a small smile on his lips. He didn't let her distract him for too long however as he remembered the reason for his visit.

'Mr. Potter- I have something I must tell you' He looked pleadingly into Harry's eyes still sat on the kitchen chair, covered in blankets.

'You can tell me at the hearing' Harry said coldly.

'No, I must tell you now Mr. Potter and only you Mr. Potter-' Durer began but was drowned out by a series of loud popping noises as auror after auror apparated into the kitchen until he was surrounded by not less than 20 witches and wizards pointing their wands directly at him.

'It's over' Harry whispered.