A/N: Well, last time I said I hoped it wouldn't be a whole year again…and then it was more than that. For everyone who has continued to read and review this story, thank you. I'm sorry I haven't been able to keep up with this as much as I hoped. I continue to come back and dabble with this, and I'm hoping to get a lot more done this summer, but my schedule is unpredictable and I've obviously lost some momentum with the story. It's never abandoned, but I know a year and a half between updates isn't much better! I truly hope to finish it someday, for my own gratification, but know that I do not blame anyone for giving up on this story and my sloooooow progress with it.

There was a reviewer confused about what year Harry should be in. He's missed 2 years – his first and second year, and is in the process of missing his third year. We're in January now of his third year, while Lydia is in her first year. Hope that clears things up.

Chapter 32

Lily woke early on Hogwarts Departure Day. She hadn't felt so nervous since she was off to school for her own classes for the very first time, her head full of irrational worries and her heart pounding in her chest. If she thought it was overwhelming being a Muggleborn eleven-year old, off to magical school for the first time, she couldn't even begin to imagine what Harry was feeling today. The whole of the wizarding world would be watching his every move, waiting for the first glimpse of Harry Potter, waiting for the first mistake and the first victory and expecting entirely too much of a thirteen-year old boy.

And then there was the matter of Severus. She'd managed to push him out of her mind these last few weeks, but now they would be in the same castle again, and she and James had never even dealt with the problem with Lydia. They artfully avoided that particular subject in favour of enjoying each other and their children, but there was simply no way they could all peacefully co-exist if she was too much a coward to discuss it with him.

Sighing wearily, she flipped over in bed to see her husband sleeping soundly next to her. Things had been so nice between them since Harry came home, their marriage settling almost perfectly back into the easy partnership they forged years ago. It was different, of course, raising two children instead of one, but she loved having his support when Harry had difficult nights, loved having him there for backup when Lydia's mouth got the best of her, loved the moments of pride they could share when both their kids were happy and safe and tucked away in bed.

But Harry and Lydia would be awake soon. She saw the light on in Harry's room rather late, indicating he had a bit of anxiety keeping him up, and Lydia could never sleep long when she was nervous or excited. If they were going to have private time, it would have to be now.

"James," she whispered, giving him a gentle tap. He mumbled something and burrowed into his pillow, so she grinned just slightly and bent her head to brush her lips along his cheek. He shivered under her touch, slowly rousing and blinking heavy eyes up at her.

"Lily?" he mumbled. "Time is it? Time to-"

"No, it's early," she assured him. "I'm sorry to wake you. We need to talk, and the children will be up soon."

He rubbed lazily at his eyes and tried to pull himself up, a frown marring his adorably sleepy features. "Something wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"I realised we never spoke about Severus," she admitted. "And with all of us going back today…"

That instantly woke him…and instantly deepened his frown. "Just what I want to talk about in bed with my wife," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she apologised again. "It's rotten timing, I know."

"Has to be done, I suppose."

"Yes," she agreed quietly.

James said nothing for a moment. "So…you knew?" he finally inquired.

"Lydia kept getting in trouble. Severus…he owled me, to tell me about something she'd done in Potions. She nearly caused an explosion, James. And he was going to take it to McGonagall or Dumbledore, but he thought he ought to tell me before he did and give me a chance to talk to her first. I guess he thought he owed me that much."

"Right," James scoffed. "I think he owes you a lot more than the consideration of giving you a heads up before having our daughter expelled."

"He didn't have her expelled," she countered. "That was rather the point, James. But you know if she was doing something dangerous, he was well within his rights."

"The problem is we have to take his word for it."

"But she-"

"I know that she was acting out, and this time, I'm inclined to believe it, but you cannot deny that he has unfairly sought her out for punishment because of who she is, so don't even try denying it, Lily."

It was true, so she didn't. Lydia had complained quite a lot about the treatment, and at the time, it infuriated Lily that he would take so much history out on an innocent child. It still bothered her, honestly, but there just seemed to be so many things more important than grudges now.

"Listen," James began, sounding diplomatic. "I know Dumbledore trusts him. I've never agreed with that, but I didn't fight it, either. But I don't understand how you could possibly forget what he did to us, Lily. He repeated the Prophecy to Voldemort."

"He didn't know it would be Harry," she argued softly.

"And if it wasn't, it would have been someone else's son. It could have been Neville Longbottom. Are you all right with Snape being responsible for his murder?"

"Of course not!" she cried, stung.

"I know you're not," he assuaged, "but Lily…" he trailed off for a moment, and Lily quickly got the impression she wasn't going to like this. "I did a terrible thing when I left you like I did. I still hate myself for it, even if you've forgiven me. And I do know that our closest friends were my friends first and it makes it…complicated. I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I'm so sorry that I cut you off from the people who should have been here to help you through this. I'm sorry you couldn't count on me for that."

"I know you are," she whispered. "I have forgiven you."

"I just don't want you to make a decision you'll regret based on the loneliness you felt," he admitted quickly, then had the good sense to look guilty for it. "I know that makes me sound like the most arrogant prat in the world, but it would be understandable. He was your friend long before you could even tolerate me, and I wouldn't blame you for wanting that back, especially considering the circumstances."

"I do know it's a risk," she confessed, trying not to let the insinuation hurt more than it should. He was looking out for her, attempting to protect her, and it might be a bit demeaning, but…well…could she be entirely sure he was wrong? She did need someone, she did want to cling to someone familiar. Was she willing to go too far to find that? "I suppose it all comes down to whether or not we believe he's changed," she managed. "He wasn't like Pettigrew. Not exactly. He did try to undo the damage he did. I do think he regrets it. And I do believe he would never have done it at all if he had known it was Harry."

"Only because of you, Lily," he reminded her pointedly. "I'm not saying that doesn't mean anything. But if Harry wasn't your son, he would have had no compunction about it. He didn't regret it until after he learned. A baby, Lil. He would kill an innocent baby and only felt bad when he found out it was yours."

"I know," she breathed. "I know, I do, I just…"

"He has this twisted idea of what it is to love," James continued softly, reaching over and taking her hand, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. "I know what it means to be in love with you and not have that returned. I wouldn't have wished that on anyone…maybe not even him back then. But you changed me. I wasn't good enough for you, so I made myself better. I did what it would take to be a man who deserved you, a man you could respect. Snape took the fact that you didn't love him and turned against you. He has been punishing you for choosing me for years, Lily. You gave him the opportunity…you told him you would be his friend again if he changed his ways, and he ran straight to the Death Eaters and didn't look back until he nearly got you killed."

She had never really looked at it that way, and it felt like a Bludger to her gut. "You're right," she admitted. "You are. But you've no idea what his life was like, James. I'm not saying it excuses it, but it did always make it so hard to write him off. How could he have known what it meant to love someone? I was the only person to ever love him."

"So what about Sirius?" James asked quietly. "Should he have become a Death Eater?"

"Sirius was always a rebel, James," she countered.

"Yes, because he believed in things, Lily," he argued reasonably. "Good things, things he knew were worth fighting for."

"It's still different," she shook her head. "His mother checked out, just left him to his father to use and abuse. And they were poor, James. So poor. There was never enough for him. He always worried about imposing, and I think it broke my mother's heart when he would turn down meals. We knew he wasn't getting them at home."

"I agree that it's awful, and I wish I had been a decent bloke. I wish I hadn't teased him for looking different…and being poor," he admitted. "But ultimately his choices were his own. Maybe the odds were stacked against him, but he chose power and cruelty and hurting other people to even trying to rise above the way he was raised."

"You're right," she murmured. "I know you're right."

"If this was anything other than the safety of our children, I would accept your judgment and be done with it," James promised. "I would try to set aside all of our petty differences and maybe even try to forgive him someday. But it is our children. I didn't do enough to protect Harry, and I let my friend take him away from us, but I'll be damned if I make that mistake with Lydia."

"What if we kept a closer eye on it?" she suggested. "We'll both be there. We can both check on her and make sure nothing is amiss."

"Lily…"

"He helped her, James, whether you like it or not, and he helped her write to Harry. I absolutely believe he wouldn't be here with us now if she hadn't started writing those letters."

He dragged a hand through his hair, looking troubled and old. She could kick herself for putting him through this now, but it would only hurt Lydia to keep her away from him. Lydia was not ambitious or enthusiastic about her work, and he had awakened something in her, helped her find a drive to do better. It felt wrong to take that, just to punish Severus for the past.

But it also felt wrong to deny her husband this. He was right, about so many things. He and Severus were both guilty of childish cruelty towards one another, but at some point, it finally made sense to James. He finally grew up and realised what it meant to be a man and to love someone more than himself. Severus perhaps loved just as passionately, but his was a jealous, destructive love. The way he lived all these years was testament to that. He could have moved on and been happy, but instead he chose to shut himself away in the castle and sink into bitterness.

"I don't know what you want me to say," James confessed after a long moment. "I don't like it. I don't want her around him more than necessary. But," he sighed, "if you believe it's safe, I trust you."

Lily leaned over and kissed him, pouring her gratitude into him.

"That's a yes, then," he sighed dramatically when they parted, and she punched him lightly on the arm.

"You are wonderful," she whispered.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I know," she grinned cheekily.

"We should be making sure the trunks are packed and going over the safety plans."

"We have hours."

"Just how early did you wake me, woman?"

She smiled innocently and kissed him again. "Shall I make it worth your while?"

"Absolutely."

Harry gazed around the kitchen at his home in Godric's Hollow, a warm feeling spreading through him as he saw each of the smiling faces at the magically expanded table. He woke this morning to the sound of his mum and dad laughing in the kitchen, and joined them to find breakfast cooked and waiting for him. To his surprise, the whole family joined later, Remus arriving just in time for Lydia to finally wake, and Sirius and Claire showing up shortly thereafter.

His time here in this house had been short, but amazing nonetheless. It helped knowing that most of these people would be at Hogwarts with him; his mum and dad would be just next door in the quarters he was to share with them, Lydia would be in Gryffindor Tower, and Remus somewhere nearby. Sirius had volunteered for the Auror post in Hogsmeade keeping watch for Pettigrew, and they had recently forged plans to include some regular visits with Claire. She had taken wonderfully to magic, just as Harry always suspected she would. There was something special about Claire, something he couldn't explain but something that made Sirius light up. He seemed a new man with Claire, and Harry was happy to have her to listen to him once more, to help him work through the tricky things he couldn't understand on his own. Already, she had helped him cope with the idea of starting school years behind his peers, and she talked him through the rather complicated emotions that came with being part of a family for the first time in his life.

A part of him was thrilled beyond words to be going to Hogwarts. It felt right and normal to go off to school like Lydia and other wizards his age, and he couldn't wait to see all the places his parents and Remus and Sirius had told him about. He was excited for meals in the Great Hall and walks by the lake and flying on the Quidditch pitch, but he was unspeakably nervous about meeting all the other students and dealing with the spotlight everyone warned him about. His brief time in Diagon Alley had been overwhelming, and his mum had calmly but firmly explained that it would likely be much worse at Hogwarts with all the other students gaping at him.

He just wanted to be normal, but it seemed that would never be in the stars for him. Then again, being normal might mean being without some of these people, and that was beyond comprehension. So he would resign himself to the quirks that came with being Harry Potter; he wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

"All right, Harry?" Claire asked him.

"Yes," he nodded. "Just thinking."

"Don't wear yourself out," Sirius teased. "You'll have all sorts of thinking to do once you get to Hogwarts."

"Bite your tongue, Padfoot," his dad insisted. "My son is naturally brilliant, like his old man. Probably won't have to do a bit of thinking."

"Don't you dare encourage laziness, James Potter," his mum scolded.

His dad grinned at him, and Harry bit back a laugh.

"You two," Remus said, looking pointedly to both Harry and Lydia, "ought to be getting ready. The Express leaves promptly at eleven, you know."

"That's plenty of time, Remus," Lydia argued. "My trunk is packed and everything."

"Yes, and speaking of, we need to check and make sure you have everything."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mum," she sighed dramatically.

"And yours, too," his mum ignored her and looked to Harry.

"You packed it," he frowned.

"Yes, well still. We ought to make sure."

"You know we can Apparate home if we've forgotten anything, Lil," James reminded her.

"Not the point," she answered easily. "Don't you agree, Claire?"

Harry sat back as the adults began a good-natured argument amongst themselves. The only thing Harry really cared about having with him was the new wand, purchased just yesterday from Ollivander's on a special trip to Diagon Alley with his mum and dad and Lydia. He had never felt anything as wondrous as the magic that surged from his very core out to the tips of his fingers. It had taken several disastrous tries, but the moment he touched the slim wand of holly, it felt a part of him.

But Ollivander had said something then, something that sent a chill down his spine. His parents had shared worried glances, and Harry knew exactly why. There had been an undercurrent of tension since the Headmaster visited his home, and Harry wasn't stupid; he knew Voldemort had something to do with all of this. The knowledge that his wand had something in common with the wizard who had started all of this…well, he wasn't sure what to make of that. All he knew was that he felt different with the wand in his hand, like he might be powerful and capable after all, that he might reach Hogwarts and feel just as at home as he felt here.

His mum's voice brought him back to the present. "All right, Loves," she told him and Lydia. "Clothes. We need to leave in twenty minutes."

"Mind if I steal Harry for just one moment?" Claire jumped in.

"Of course," his mum needed. "It's this one I'm worried about," she grinned and stuck her tongue out at Lydia. Harry laughed and followed Claire out to the garden, where they stood watching a light dusting of snow fall over the sleepy landscape.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling all right before you head off. Is there anything you want to talk about?" she questioned kindly.

"I'm nervous," he shrugged. "But Mum and Dad will be there."

"And Sirius will be on the train with you."

"Yeah," he grinned, excited once more that his godfather was making the journey with them. It felt right, really, and he was relieved they wouldn't have to say goodbye.

"We're both very proud of you, Harry. You've done so beautifully since we met. But I just want you to remember that I'm here if you need me. Sirius will get in touch, and I'll see you in…"

"Hogsmeade," he supplied.

"Funny names," she laughed. Then she reached over and ruffled his hair and wrapped a loose arm around him. "You're going to do great. Have fun today, yeah? Let your sister introduce you to her friends. I think she'll be an excellent resource for you."

"I think Lydia is friends with everyone," he grimaced, not entirely sure being introduced to all of Lydia's friends was the best idea.

"Maybe just a few, then," Claire chuckled. "See you soon, Harry."

A rushed hour later, Harry found himself climbing onboard the Hogwarts Express for the first time in his life. He had stood in awe before it for just a moment, enraptured by the brilliant scarlet engine, but Lydia anxiously tugged on his hand, begging him to come join her.

"We'll be back here," his mum explained, pointing out a large compartment near the back of the train where she and the rest of the adults would be travelling. "You're welcome to come join us anytime."

Harry swallowed hard, not sure he was ready for this, but Lydia hardly gave him a choice. "Harry!" she whined. "Come on!"

Summoning up all of his courage, Harry followed along after her. She quickly tugged him into a compartment, squealing in excitement when she recognised a few of her friends. They were all first years, however, and Lydia was determined to introduce him to some people his own age, so they hurried along to the next.

"Oh, Ron, hi!" she greeted brightly as she spotted a redheaded boy. "And Hermione and Ginny!" she turned to the other two. "May we join you?"

A bushy-haired girl was the first to speak. "Yes, of course. So nice to see you, Lydia. And you must be Harry," she prompted, just barely restraining her obvious curiosity behind the careful politeness.

"Er…yeah. Hello," he managed awkwardly, feeling his face flush a bright red as all three tried not to stare at him.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl introduced herself. "I'm in third year. I guess you will be, as well?"

Harry didn't speak at first, and then Lydia nudged him harshly in the ribs. "Ow," he mumbled and shot her a glare. "Um, yes, sort of."

"He's going to take some classes with you lot, but also have private tutoring," Lydia explained for him. "That's why my mum and dad are here. Dad's going to help with Defense, and Mum will be helping brew for the Hospital Wing, and then they'll both teach Harry when he's not in lessons."

Harry now regretted the glare and reminded himself to thank his sister profusely later. She could be a lot to handle, at times, but she was likely his saving grace when it came to making friends with their peers.

"This is Ron Weasley," his sister introduced. "He's also in third year."

"Nice to meet you," the redhead offered, though Harry couldn't help noticing he seemed a little star struck. His parents had warned him about that, but it still seemed odd to Harry to be a celebrity. He certainly couldn't remember doing anything notable in his life.

"You as well," Harry mumbled as politely as he could manage. He raised a hand to brush back his hair as he always did when he was particularly nervous, and Ron gasped a little. Harry abruptly dropped his hand and turned away awkwardly; he had forgotten the scar that made him famous.

No one spoke for a moment. Even Lydia seemed at a loss for words. Not knowing what else to do, Harry claimed a seat by the window and tried to convince himself he could stay here when he really just wanted to rejoin his parents and Sirius and Remus.

"Harry, this is Ginny," his sister finally spoke up to introduce the last remaining person in the compartment. "She's Ron's sister and a second year. And she plays Quidditch!"

Harry's eyes lit up a little, and he forgot his awkwardness. "Really?" he asked excitedly. "You do?"

"Just reserve," Ginny blushed a bright red that matched her hair.

"It's still really good," Lydia insisted. "Most people don't make the team until they're a lot older."

Ron looked a little disgruntled about this. "All our brothers play," he grumbled. "Except Percy. And me."

"Ron has five brothers, Harry," Lydia added.

"Five?" Harry gaped. He loved Lydia and all, but she wore him out! He couldn't imagine having a little sister plus five more brothers.

Ron launched into an explanation on the Weasley family tree, but Harry was more interested in Ginny at the moment. He really wanted to ask her more about Quidditch, but she refused to meet his eye. She almost seemed nervous, and for some reason, it made Harry feel a little better. It was good to know he wasn't the only one.

"We've all heard all about you, of course," Hermione said when Ron had finished. "It's lovely to meet you, though. We're all so happy for you and your family."

Harry was saved from having to make a response by a woman pushing the sweets cart. His parents had made sure they had plenty of galleons for this cart, and Lydia pointed out each thing and told him what to order. The two of them offered their loot to the other three, and before long, he was sitting back sampling Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and listening to stories from their time at Hogwarts. Only Ginny seemed reluctant to join in, but Lydia more than compensated for the girl's quiet. Harry began to settle in and enjoy himself, fascinated by their tales and growing more and more excited to see the castle for the first time.

Hermione and Ron were just beginning to narrate a story about a troll when the train came to an odd, noisy stop. Harry assumed they were stopping for more passengers, but the rest of his companions bolted to attention. "What's going on?" Lydia asked in concern.

"We can't be there already," Hermione frowned.

"The train doesn't usually stop?" Harry asked his sister. She just shook her head, and Harry's stomach did a little flip.

Without warning, the train suddenly grew dark. Harry glanced to the window and found it icing over, and he instantly inched closer to his sister. "Harry?" she asked, and he detected an unwonted tinge of fear in her voice. It brought out something protective in him, and he held out an arm in invitation. She eagerly huddled closer to his side, and he made sure he had his wand drawn, just in case.

Nothing happened for a moment, and then an eerie scratching and scraping seemed to make its way down the corridor. Lydia whimpered, and Harry tightened his grasp. The others were looking distinctly nervous as well, and he noticed that Ron was also protecting his little sister. "It's all right," Harry offered uselessly. "Dad and Sirius are here. It can't be anything."

Just as soon as the words escaped his mouth, Harry suddenly felt cold. Freezing, actually, a cold that seeped into his very soul. Lydia drew herself impossibly closer, but the contact did nothing to warm him. Despair washed over him, and he thought inexplicably of the night he had huddled on the park bench and waited for death to claim him. He felt he was right back there, so miserable and aching, so sure he would never be warm or safe or happy again. He was never going home now, felt a million miles from Godric's Hollow. Nothing was ever going to be all right again.

The compartment door slid open, and a dark, hooded figure seemed to float inside. Harry was back in the closet at the Parkers, cowering in fear and praying Eric wouldn't return. The lashes were raining down on his back, and salty tears were stinging a cut on his face.

Lydia was crying, sobbing into his jumper, but now Harry was caught in the flames. Someone was screaming, crying his name. He knew the voice, and he wanted to reach for her, wanted to go to her…

And then there was nothing.

TBC