Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Lily Evans groaned as she touched a slim hand to her throbbing forehead. Emerald eyes assessed the situation quickly and calculatingly. She was in a cell, and a rather medieval one at that. It was damp and dark, with iron bars acting as a door, reminding her strongly of the westerns she used to adore when she was a child. The witch sat up, pushing a fiery red lock of hair out of her face. There were, oddly enough, two cots in this tiny cell. Lily's eyes widened marginally as she noticed yet another body huddled over itself in a corner.

"Finally, noticed, did you, Evans? Very unobservant for an elite." The figure pushed up against the wall, face shadowed.

Lily scowled. "And who, pray tell, are you?"

There was a weak chuckle, and the figure moved into the dim light. "Really, Evans, after all we've been through together. I rather thought you would have remembered my voice."

Lily's lips pulled back into a sneer of disgust. "Oh it's you, Potter. How could I forget? Your voice haunts me in my dreams."

"Friendly as ever, eh, Evans?"

"Only to you."

James Potter sighed, and crawled over to where Lily was resting. She glanced at him warily, and scooted a bit to the side.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Evans, I'm not going to bite you!"

"You never know."

James shook his head irritably, his messy locks flying as he stood up. Carefully, he calculated the width of the cell. "It's six by six."

"Lord have mercy on us all. Potter can count!"

James scowled. "Shut up Evans. Now, do you remember what happened? I'm drawing a blank. Deatheaters.and then, nothing."

"And here I thought you wanted me to shut up."

"Out with it Evans!"

Lily sighed melodramatically. "Well, if you insist.Actually, I don't remember much either."

"Great. Just bloody great."

"Potter! There is a lady present!"

"Where?"

A slap resounded through the room. "Ow, Evans!"

"Can't take it, Potter?"

They fell into silence for a few minutes, and Lily shivered as the cold penetrated her robes. Now that there was only Potter's breathing matched with her own, she swore she could hear the pitter-patter of rats scurrying about. She shuddered at the very thought of one of them creeping atop her while she slept.

"Cold, Evans?" James' slightly mocking voice floated over to her.

"No." Lily said stubbornly, cursing the man's perceptiveness silently.

A cold, stony silence fell that stretched on for what seemed to be hours before Lily finally fell asleep.
The cold seeped through his thin Auror robes and he inwardly shivered. The floor was hard, the packed dirt giving no mercy to his extremely sore and uncomfortable bum. He could just hear the nasty little critters mocking him by running over his feet. James gave a snort of revulsion before crawling over to his cot. That would provide at least some protection against the cold and the disgusting creatures. He wondered, amused, if Wormtail had any relations in this hellhole.

His alert, hazel eyes wandered the cell. He was suddenly very thankful that his glasses had made it through the ordeal untouched, for without them, he was, quite honestly, as blind as bat. His eyes rested on the slim redhead whose back was turned towards him. Her waist long hair glittered in the pale light; reds and golds reminding him strongly like the Gryffindor that she was. It reminded him of fire, wild and untamable.untouchable.

She shifted in her sleep, and turned to face him. He drew a surprised and awed breath. He had forgotten how beautiful she truly was. Especially in sleep, when her features were calm and serene-not the usual scowl that was directed his way. She looked like an angel, and James amused himself with the irony of appearances. In sleep, no one could have believed that she truly was a dragon when awake.

A small smile played on his lips, soft and slightly sad. He was honored to have witnessed such a moment of serenity and ethereal beauty, but bitter. He brought to mind her sparkling, vibrant, and usually furious emerald eyes that looked to him in disdain. Her eyes sparkled like the stars when she looked at him. Cold, and just as far from his reach. She would never be his. He recalled all the idiocies that he had done during his stay at Hogwarts in a vain attempt to impress her, and groaned. It was no wonder that she would never look twice at him.

She was beautiful, fiery, and incredibly annoying. Loud-mouthed, humble, and always ready for a good argument. Not that he'd ever tell her that. James snorted. The day that he told Evans that she was beautiful would be the day that the pigs came to his house via floo powder.

In control of his emotions and contemplations, he smirked to himself. The red head sprite began to mutter to herself as she slept. 'Crazy as a loon,' He thought, and wondered absently what she was dreaming about.

****************

It had started off as a pleasant enough dream. She had been sunbathing on a lovely beach, the sand soft between her toes and the water warm. She was of course, not fazed when a large white bunny hopped into the picture muttering to itself about being late. She was however, a little bit shocked when a massive snake slithered past her, and her landscape slowly faded and morphed into one that was completely different.

A manor. A large manor, with the fire blazing. Pictures waved at her from every wall, but for some reason she could not make out the details of what lay in them. Someone was sitting next to her, her red hair spilling over both of them like a waterfall. She was comfortable. Cared for. Loved, even. But the perfect picture was ruined by the apprehension that was thick in the air. It stifled her.

And then.

The screams.

*****************

"Damn it, where the hell are they?" Sirius Black growled as his eyes surveyed the empty pick up point. His light blue eyes, usually shining with mirth, even in these dark times, were unusually hard and turbulent. He silently willed them to make their appearances, swallowing a lump in his throat.

Remus sighed, running a shaking hand through his light brown hair, weary and worried. "I don't know, Sirius. But the Order is expecting us. We'll have to go."

"But-"

"We can report this to Dumbledore, and then come right back to check. They're probably just running late. Perhaps Lily finally hit James hard enough on the head to make him pass out and is hiding his body as we speak."

"That's not funny, Moony."

Remus shrugged and tossed him a tired grin. "It could happen."

Sirius sighed. "That it could. All right, lets go." He grumbled, and began walking briskly out from the clearing.

*****************

A rather plump rat poked its nose out of the foliage and watched as his two.friends walked away. He cowered as he felt the burning sensation on his arm increase. He felt.something akin to regret, he supposed. The Sorting Hat had been wrong, placing him in Gryffindor. But of course, it never knew that the Dark Lord would come into power.

Power corrupted all.

Including himself.

Perhaps, just perhaps things would have turned out differently had he been a little bit stronger. A little bit braver. A little more confident. But he wasn't. And he had submitted to the Dark Lord's will.

A tiny twinge of remorse was quickly squished down, and only a broken, terrified, and weak man remained. Peter Pettigrew, proud Marauder and Gryffindor in the olden days.was dead.
The screams.
Oh, the screams.

“—Take Harry and go—!”
“—It’s him—!”
“—Run!”

Her dream self turned and fled. The screams continued—those of agony, of denial, betrayal, and sheer utter desperation were, she vaguely noticed, being torn from her own throat. She was racing up the stairs now, despair and determination coursing through her veins.

There was a high-pitched cackle.

A flash of green light.

‘Nonononononono…’ And she knew, at that terrible moment, that she was alone. Alone in the world, without the man that she loved with all her heart.

Without—

Her heart was torn and shredded to pieces, but he had died saving HER and Harry, and she was not going to let that sacrifice go to waste. This was neither time nor place to cry. She pushed the numb feeling down, and focused her thoughts, so that she could think of just one thing. ‘Harry. Have to get to Harry before it’s too late, oh god, He’s coming, He can’t get Harry, I won’t let him, almost there, so close, just a little bit more…’
She reached the room, gasping for breath, triumphant. She leaned over the cradle to the wailing child, and he stopped when he peered at her through his bright, emerald eyes that mirrored her own.

She gathered the precious bundle in her arms, cooing at him as her mind desperately raced through possibilities on getting out. Then, the door was creaking open, and she suppressed a scream of denial that her beloved was truly dead and now…
Now…
She was next. No, perhaps not…Harry. She would never let that happen. Not her baby!
“Not Harry!” She begged as the dark figure glided closer to her, “Not Harry! Please—I’ll do anything—” ‘Not Harry, please God, not Harry!’
“Stand aside you silly girl!”
‘Never!’ She promised herself, ‘I’ll never let you have Harry!’
“…Stand aside, now…”
Even if it resorted to begging. She would never give up. Perhaps Voldemort would spare her son if her got her instead. “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…”
But Voldemort did not believe in mercy.

He raised his wand, his eyes red malicious, taking a perverse delight as he saw the fear in her eyes. She was not afraid of death. But Harry—

“Adava Ked—”

Suddenly, Lily found herself being pulled from her dream world, away from the figure donned in black. She felt hands on her, shaking her lightly and calling her name and her emerald eyes popped open. Leaning above her was the hated pair of crimson, slitted eyes, and she gave a battle cry as she swung her fist into the gut that was so conveniently in arms reach.

**********************************

Sirius gnashed his teeth together as he awaited the end of the meeting. His foot tapped the floor quickly, nervously, and his light sapphire eyes glanced constantly at the shut door. It made him feel trapped, suffocated in the large, overcrowded room. Anxiety stole his breath away, as well as his patience. Dumbledore was standing up as he addressed the Order and Sirius glanced at him, disinterested, before returning his gaze to the closed, silent door.
Remus elbowed him in the ribs discreetly, but none to gently. “Sirius,” He whispered, “Pay attention.”
Sirius shot Remus a dark look, and continued his vigil. With one ear open, he heard Dumbledore announce that the meeting was over. People stood up to leave, and Sirius sighed in relief. “Finally!” He exclaimed, stretching his arms above his head, and popping his neck. He ignored Remus’ look of disgust, and once again glanced around the room.
Remus followed his look and remarked quietly, “Are they still not here yet?”
“No.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
Sirius gave a small nod of acknowledgement, but even to Remus’ own ears, his words were weak and feeble.
“After all, they’re full-grown adults and I’m sure that they’re being responsible and careful.”
Sirius gave a dignified snort.

Lily Evans was a soldier. An elite. An auror with carefully honed instincts that were sharpened to the point of perfection.

This was war, after all. If one didn’t have the correct instincts, then he was a dead man walking.

Consequently, when she awoke from the throes of a nightmare only to find a darkened figure leaning over her, she did what a soldier had been trained to do.

She attacked. There was a wild flurry of action as she leapt out of her cot and onto the figure. The figure, caught by surprise, wind milled and then fell down, with a hard plop on the ground. Lily straddled the attacker’s stomach, fist raised and eyes blank.

“Evans! Get off of me!”

The voice penetrated her mind like a douse of cold water. The screams were fading from her ears, and dulling into a rushing noise. Her dream slipped through her fingers like water, leaving only a vague remembrance behind. A cold, numb feeling that penetrated her very being was all that remained, a half forgotten memory.

Too late, however, did the red haziness fade from her vision, leaving her staring into flabbergasted amber eyes instead of the red malicious ones that had been there a moment ago.

“Evans!”

Lily blinked again, trying desperately to place a name to the voice.

“Evans!”

A patch of moonlight crept out from its hiding place of the clouds. The weak alabaster light washed upon their two forms, and Lily recognized the face.

“EVANS!”

“Potter?” She breathed, staring at him and letting his shirt slip through her suddenly numb fingers. She glanced at their position and blushed, her mind backpedaling to what had transpired seconds prior. Her emerald eyes widened.

“You PERVERT!” She shrieked turning a lovely shade of red that matched her hair.

“What?” James exclaimed stupidly, and due to his shock did not manage to dodge the hard slap that came to his cheek. “Ow! Bloody hell, Evans! I didn’t do anything! I was giving you my cloak! I was being chivalrous!”

Lily examined herself before rolling off him. Sheepishly she added, “I’m sorry about that Potter.”

“Yes well, you have a hard slap for a girl.” He grudgingly admitted. “And your response was understandable.” He winced as he gingerly touched the red stinging handprint that lay brilliantly across his left cheek.

Lily sniffed indignantly. “For a girl?”

“What?”

Lily rolled her eyes as she scooted over to the wall to lean against it. “Honestly, Potter. Being sexist and not even realizing it. You ARE a moron.”

James stared at her. “And you’re one of those bloody feminists, aren’t you?” Before she could retort, he sighed and amended, “You have a hard slap. Period. Are you happy now?”

Lily smiled weakly, “Yes.” She leaned back with a sigh, trembling slightly. Her adrenaline left her and weariness flooded her veins. The terror that she had experienced was like no other, and its lingering effects left her feeling vaguely ill.

“What were you dreaming about, anyway, Evans?” James’ voice was nearer now; he too had propped himself up against the wall. It was gentler, kinder, but Lily was not in the mood to notice such things.

“Nothing,” She muttered, glaring darkly at the floor. “Why do you care anyway? You’re just an egoistical prat!”

James pulled back, angry. “What?! Here I am, trying to be nice to you Evans, and you’re STILL infuriating!”

“Me? What about you?! Leaning over me, trying to be ‘chivalrous’. Hmph, oh I bet that’s exactly what you were doing!”

“What are you implying by that Evans?!” James was on his feet now. “Are you implying that I was being a pervert?”

“So what if I was?”

“Argh!” The chocolate haired wizard threw his hands in the air. “Honestly, you’re impossible! And if was you, if I’m not mistaken, you were on top of ME!”

“Don’t be disgusting!”

“And then you get off punching and slapping me, and knocking me to the ground!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t sound like you meant it!”

“Honestly! Listen, Potter, how about this. You shut up, and I’ll shut up. Your whining is giving me a headache!”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine! ”

“Fine!”

And so, the two of the greatest aurors in the most prestigious, Order of the Phoenix, sat down at opposite ends of the cell, and sulked.

******************************************************************************

“My servant, you have done well.” Scarlet eyes glittered with malice and twisted pleasure as he idly twirled around a glass of dark liquid.

“Thank you m’lord.”

“I honestly didn’t think that you would be up to this. But it seems that I have underestimated you, Peter. You fed me the correct information. I am impressed.” Eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “There’s only one problem, my dear servant.”

“Y-y-yes, m’lord?”

The wine glass smashed against the wall, and shattered into a million different shards. The red liquid dripped eerily from the wall and from the shards.

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