Chapter Text
Lily jerked upwards with a great gasp. Two hands steadied her shoulders, and she flinched as her vision swam into focus.
“Lily, Lily it’s me!”
“Give her some space, guys.”
“Hey!—Don’t shove me!”
“Both of you, shut up!”
She took great heaving breaths as the man before her finally became clear.
“James?” Her husband smiled, though it looked strained and tight at the corners. “What—”
They were in a Hogwarts classroom. That much was obvious, though there were no windows nor doors. Lily’s eyes darted quickly around the room. There were an array of couches before a great movie screen, which at present was blank. And standing just over James’ shoulder was a group of people who made Lily’s heart stop. They had ceased their bickering and were regarding her and James with varying expressions.
“Hey, Evans,” Marlene McKinnon smiled tearfully. “Long time no see.”
Understanding hit Lily like a train. Her entire body tensed and relaxed within a millisecond, and her hand clutched James’ arm so hard he winced.
“Oh,” she said. “We’re dead.”
A snort to the left. “Told you she’d figure it out.” Lily’s eyes followed the voice, widening at the sight of a young Regulus Black. Dorcas Meadows, the dark-skinned girl next to him, made to swat him on the arm, but he leapt away before she could land a hit.
Marlene took a tentative step forward, and before Lily could process it, she threw herself onto the ground next to the Potters. The three of them grappled for each other, holding tightly while they cried. It was a few moments before Marlene drew back. She made no move to wipe at her face, unembarrassed by her display of emotion.
Lily swallowed. She looked back over at Regulus and Dorcas, and then the Prewetts, Gideon and Fabian, only a few feet away.
“Is this-”
“Heaven?” Dorcas cut in. “No idea.”
“Hope not, because that makes Regulus God,” Fabian grinned at the younger boy who promptly flipped him the bird. James gaped.
“What—”
“I was the first one,” Regulus said. “I don’t know for how long—time is… weird, here—and I didn’t even know I was dead until Marlene showed up.”
“We were both terrified of the other,” Marlene nodded. Regulus scoffed but made no move to refute her. “Eventually we figured it out though. Dorcas was next. Then Fab and Gid, and now…”
“Us,” Lily said. Her head swam. James laced their fingers together, squeezing desperately. “I don’t— how—”
“We don’t know,” Gideon said softly. “None of us remember how we died. Or how the others died.”
“Oh God,” James choked. “Harry—”
With that one word, the lights flickered, causing everyone to freeze. The movie screen glowed a warm yellow light. For a moment, no one moved.
“That’s new,” Regulus Black murmured. Dorcas reached for him absently, one hand resting on his shoulder. Fabian and Gideon were the first to move. As they drew nearer to the screen, words appeared.
“Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,” Fabian read.
“Harry?” James and Lily asked together. Regulus’ brows knit together, lips pursed.
“I think we’re meant to watch,” he said quietly.
“Watch?” Marlene echoed. “Like a Muggle film?” Dorcas shrugged.
“No complaints from me,” she said. “This is a way more exciting afterlife than playing Shag, Marry, Kill for eternity.” She drifted away from Regulus and took Marlene’s hand. Fabian and Gideon followed her lead, taking up one of the couches. Dorcas and Marlene sat beside them.
Regulus turned to James and Lily, both of whom were staring at the screen. He cleared his throat, taking a step towards them.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said, wringing his hands together. “And I know we were never friends, and not everyone who dies shows up here but I have to ask… is my brother—”
“Alive,” James said. Regulus sucked in a breath, eyes vulnerable. James swallowed, looking from Lily and back to Regulus. “Last I remember, he was alive.”
Regulus nodded, throat bobbing. “Thanks.” He turned and took a seat beside Dorcas. She and Marlene were entangled on the end of the sofa, and as Regulus sat, Marlene extended her legs until they were draped across Regulus’ lap. To James’ shock, all he did was look expectantly back at him and Lily. James blinked.
“James,” Lily said. “If this is like a film, do you think it’s about Harry?”
“It must be,” James said. He squeezed his wife’s hand and led her to the couch beside Regulus. He looked so like Sirius, James marvelled. Both boys had the same aristocratic features, same haughty look to them, same dark hair. But Regulus was smaller, slighter, lithe. He’s got bird bones, Sirius described him once. Anyone who had ever watched Regulus fly would agree.
It was their eyes, though, James found, that highlighted their differences. Sirius’ were a gray silver, like mercury, or the glint of a paring knife. Regulus’ eyes were slightly duller, more concentrated, like a stormy tempest. Sirius’ eyes shone. Regulus’ looked practiced at blocking out light.
With all of them seated, the screen glowed again, and the words disappeared.
A cat sat on the corner of Privet Drive, its tail flicking gently. It was evening, and the street was empty, save for a silhouette at the far corner. He was tall, with long white hair and a matching beard, and wore long purple robes.
“Is that—”
“Dumbledore?” Fabian and Gideon asked.
“Do you reckon that’s Minnie, then?” Marlene asked.
“Must be.”
Albus Dumbledore blinked at the cat. Then, he chuckled to himself.
Dumbledore: I should’ve known.
From his pocket, he withdrew what looked to be a silver cigarette lighter. He clicked it a number of times, and the streetlights flickered out with little ‘pops’ until only one remained. He set the lighter back in his pocket.
Dumbledore: Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall.
McGonagall: Is it true, Albus? Is You-Know-Who really gone?
“Gone?!” The room yelped.
Dumbledore: My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense—for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort. It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who.’ I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.
McGonagall: And what of the rumors flying about? You know what everyone’s saying? About why he’s disappeared? About what finally stopped him?
Dumbledore said nothing. Only stared.
Silence pervaded the room, clinging like static.
McGonagall: What they’re saying is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric’s Hollow.
Lily inhaled so sharply she choked.
“Oh God,” she said. “James—”
McGonagall: He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are—are—that they’re—dead.
James pressed his hands, still holding one of Lily’s, to his mouth.
Dumbledore bowed his head, and McGonagall gasped. She said something that might’ve been their names.
McGonagall: That’s not all. They’re saying he tried to kill the Potters’ son, Harry. But he couldn’t! He couldn’t kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they’re saying that when he couldn’t kill Harry Potter, Voldemort’s power somehow broke—and that’s why he’s gone.
“Circe,” Marlene breathed. Fabian and Gideon gaped at the screen. Beside James, Regulus had gone perfectly still, like someone had drawn the blinds over his face. Lily was trembling, taking in gasping breaths. James’ own mind replayed the words on repeat: he couldn’t kill that little boy… he couldn’t kill Harry Potter.
McGonagall: How in the name of heaven did Harry survive?
Dumbledore: We can only guess.
He reached into his pocket and took out a golden watch.
Dumbledore: Hagrid’s late. I suppose it was he who told you I’d be here, by the way?
McGonagall: Yes. And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why you’re here, of all places?
Dumbledore: I’ve come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They’re the only family he has left now.
Two things happened simultaneously.
“Petunia?!” Lily yelped at the same time Regulus and James snapped to meet each other’s eyes.
“You said—”
“I thought—”
“Shhh!” Fabian hissed.
McGonagall: How is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?
Dumbledore: Hagrid’s bringing him.
McGonagall: You think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?
Dumbledore: I would trust Hagrid with my life.
McGonagall: I’m not saying his heart isn’t in the right place, but you can’t pretend he’s not careless. He does tend to—what was that?
A low rumbling sound broke the silence, growing steadily louder. Both Professors looked up to the sky as it reached its peak, and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. Sitting atop it was a giant man.
James couldn’t help but sag into the cushions, some relief bleeding from his shoulders.
“It’s his bike,” he said. “That’s Sirius’ bike.” Regulus’ eyes pierced him before turning back to the screen.
Dumbledore: Hagrid. At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?
Hagrid: Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir. Young Sirius Black lent it to me.
This time it was not just James, but everyone who let out a sigh of relief. One of Regulus’ hands even curled around Marlene’s ankle. Then, as the image shifted again, they all gasped.
Just visible under a bundle of blankets was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
McGonagall: Is that where—?
Dumbledore: Yes.
“Merlin and Morgana,” Gideon swallowed, a shade paler than usual. Lily looked to him, her chest a confusing storm of emotions. Part relief that Harry was alive. Part dread that he was being sent to Petunia. Part grief that she and James had left him, orphaned him, died. Part she-didn’t-even-know about that scar on his forehead.
“What?”
Gideon looked guiltily between her and the screen. “That’s the movement for the killing curse,” he said. Next to her, James let out a keening moan.
Dumbledore took Harry in his bundle from Hagrid and walked him down the street. He set him on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive and tucked an envelope addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley next to him.
Dumbledore: Good luck, Harry.