PROLOGUE

October 31, 1981

Most wizards and witches would not have done this. Most wizards and witches would simply have thrown a spell and let the sheets, blankets, pillows and even the toys arrange themselves on their own. But Lily Jane Evans Potter wasn't like most witches.

She cautiously positioned each and every component of the cot, making sure everything was in its right place. When it was over, she gave a swing to the wheel above the cot, and the toys attached to it began to circle, hovering over where her son would soon be asleep. There were four toys. One was a Golden Snitch, another was a broom, of James' choice. The other two represented a helicopter and a car. Only the latter was unable to fly.

James had not understood why she insisted on placing Muggles' toys in their son's chamber, but he hadn't opposed it. By now, he knew better than to argue with her over such details. She didn't blame him, though. James was a wizard, born in a grand, ancient, and rich family of wizards. Magic had always been part of his life, and before he met Lily, he never really cared about the world of Muggles. But Lily had grown in a family of Muggles, and had thought for years that she was just that, a Muggle. That was, until the boy who lived close to her home told her she was a witch.

But that boy was long gone. He was dead to her. She chased this thought from her mind. The important was that she didn't want her son to grow exclusively in a magic world. She wanted him to be aware of that other world, the one his mother came from. In such times where hatred towards Muggles was so widespread among wizards, it was more than vital in her eyes. They had to remember the worlds of wizards and Muggles were connected, and that they had to live alongside Muggles, as equals.

She heard the laughs of a child coming from below. A smile came to her lips as she guessed immediately what was going on. She went down the stairs to find her husband in their small sitting room, with their son on his knees, trying to catch the small puffs of colored smoke his father created with his wand. She watched Harry playing with his father for a moment, but she knew she couldn't let them continue.

"Time to sleep."

"Does he look like he wants to sleep?" James asked, continuing his game with their one-year-old son.

"I wasn't asking, neither to him, neither to you."

James seized Harry by the waist, stood up and handed him to his wife. "Be quiet, little boy."

"If he is anything like his father... wish me good luck."

James and Lily shared a knowing smile, the one they always shared when they laughed about the same thing, in this case James' own restlessness and recklessness. He threw his wand down on the sofa and stretched, yawning, as Lily walked away towards the stairs. Her husband didn't like being confined. Lily didn't like it either, but she endured much better than James. For Harry's safety, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. And at least, it gave them all the time in the world to take care of their son.

As she climbed the stairs, she heard a creak, or so she thought. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, but decided it was probably nothing. Until the unmistakable sound of the door bursting open resonated downstairs. Blood stopped running into her veins as she took a step down, Harry still in her arms.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off..."

As James shouted to her, a cold, demonic laugh filled the house.

"Avada Kedavra!"

From where she stood, Lily couldn't see the hall, but the green light was reflected by the walls.

"Nooooooooooooo!"

No, how could it be? He was there... Voldemort... James... The Fidelius Charm...

The side of a black cloak appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

Lily ran to Harry's bedroom and placed him in his cot. She reached for her pocket... but her wand wasn't there. She had left it behind, in the kitchen. And between her and the kitchen were the stairs, with Voldemort climbing them in this very moment.

Not thinking, Lily closed the door and locked it. Then she took everything she could find, chairs, boxes, toys, even a coat, and placed them against the door, anything with the smallest chance to hold him off.

She quickly realized it was futile. There was a window in the room. Maybe they could escape this way. She seized Harry, who was laughing, not realizing the situation. Perhaps he thought this was all a game, looking at his mother piling things up against the door.

The door exploded behind her, as she hugged him strong against her, hoping to protect him from the debris. She turned her head and saw him, standing in the doorway, a black cloak covering a white bald face with red eyes, slit pupils and snake nostrils, while he pointed a wand towards her with long fingers like spiders.

She knew what that man was capable of. She and James had fought him three times, and the three times they had escaped. Ever since they left school, they dedicated their lives to fighting Voldemort. He just killed her husband. And he wasn't even after James, or after her. It was Harry that he wanted.

She placed Harry in the cot. He was calm. When she looked into his eyes, he just stared back. He didn't understand what was going on. He didn't understand that the most evil wizard in the world had come to kill him, all because of a stupid prophecy.

Her husband was already dead, down in the hall. Harry was all that she had left. She turned to face the man she had fought for years.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

She didn't care if she died in this instant. All that mattered was her son. She knew Voldemort would kill her, but if there was even the slightest chance that she could save Harry this way...

To her surprise, he didn't kill her.

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside now..." he said with his cold voice.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead..." She was the one who fought him. If he wanted to kill someone, let it be her, but not her son.

"This is my last warning..."

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy", she begged. "Have mercy. Not Harry! Not Harry! Please... I'll do anything..."

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

"Please, don't kill him. Kill me instead, but not him."

He raised his wand in her direction. She knew in that very moment what was coming. She was going to die.

But nothing happened. Nothing. No spell came out. The Killing Curse didn't strike her.

Then a force came out of the wand pointed towards her. Lily's back came against the wall, right where the window was. She hit her head against the side of it, causing a pain like she never experienced in her life. Then her body was moved to her right and she hit another wall, then another, and again another. She was tossed from one side of the room to another like she was a doll. When she finally came down on the floor, she felt every single bone in her body was broken. The pain was unimaginable.

"I only said I wouldn't kill you, not that I wouldn't hurt you so much you would wish you were dead. Crucio!"

She never thought it would hurt so much. She had already experienced the Torture Curse, but never like this, not when her body was already broken. She screamed like she never did before, but all she could think about was Harry.

She held to that thought, to the thought of her little boy. Maybe Voldemort would be so focused on torturing her that he would forget about her son. Three times the Dark Lord threw the Torture Curse at her, and three times she endured with all the strength she could muster, thinking of her boy just next to her.

After the third curse, she laid on the ground, panting, her body totally lifeless, preparing for the next round. But it didn't come. In the silence that followed the chaos, she heard Harry cry. Lily opened her eyes, trying to see through her mangled dark red hair. She witnessed as Voldemort turned his wand towards Harry.

"No."

She was so weak. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. She tried to raise her hand, without success. Everything in her was broken. Her little boy was about to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. She witnessed, powerless, as the words came out.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A great flash of green light engulfed the room, and a strong force threw Lily into the air where she went to collide against the wall one last time, losing all awareness of what happened afterwards.

When she regained consciousness, she was in a bed. Slowly, she opened her eyes, which made her turn under the strong light coming straight into her eyes. She tried to say something, but it stayed stuck in her mouth. She tried again.

"Harry."

She tried again, a little louder this time.

"Harry."

She heard footsteps. Then a feminine voice spoke. "She's woken up."

She turned her head, to great efforts, and saw a shape she didn't expect to find. "Madam Pomfrey."

"Stay in bed, Lily." She pushed back Lily who was trying to sit. Anyway, she didn't think she had enough strength to do it right now. She felt so empty. She heard a few strong taps next to her. "Wake up, you lazy man."

A man who wore clothes so damaged he looked homeless was sitting next to her, and he was waking up after Madam Pomfrey almost slapped him. As soon as his eyes opened, all his attention was on her.

"Lily. How do you feel?" Remus asked.

"Harry," she whispered again.

"He's fine, Lily. He's only sleeping." He pointed on the other side of her bed. Lily slowly turned her head, and she saw a small form in a cot nearby. She tried to raise her hand towards him, without success. She was too weak.

"We feared the worst," Remus said. "When we arrived at the house, it was about to collapse. We hurried before the Muggles got there."

She looked at him. "James?"

Remus' face took a darker tone. He looked at his shoes. Lily closed her eyes as the tears began to fall. Her husband, the man she loved, was dead. Harry was alive and safe, but his father was gone. They had joined the Order together, had fought Voldemort for the sake of their son, and for the other children they hoped to have if fate allowed it. And now James was gone. So many people had died. She had just hoped she and James would get through all this, be able to raise Harry in a better world.

"He loved you so much, Lily," Remus, his voice contracted by sadness too. "He gave up his life so you and Harry could live."

This didn't make her feel better. Oh, James. She had hated him a long time ago, back when they were at Hogwarts. She only fell in love with him late, in their final year, when he changed. But even before, James had always been ready to die for those he loved. This was the one thing that brought her to him, among all the other boys who wished to date her. How happy he had looked the day she finally accepted to go on a date with him. And now he was gone, victim of his own courage, of the thing that made her fall in love with him.

The door of the infirmary opened. A very old and tall wizard with silvery long hair and beard, half-moon glasses, and a very long and crooked noise walked in. Remus stood up as soon as he realized that Albus Dumbledore was standing in front of them. The principal of Hogwarts was considered the most powerful wizard in the world, and the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, to which Remus and Lily both belonged. He smiled sadly at Lily when he saw her.

"I came as soon as I could. You are a warm sight to an old man's eyes, Lily Evans."

To Dumbledore, Lily had always remained the Evans girl, even long after she married James. She wished she could stand, or at least sit, but she was in a such a poor state, both physically and emotionally, that she could barely remain conscious.

Madam Pomfrey intervened at this moment. "Professor Dumbledore, she needs rest. Her spine was severely damaged, as were most of the bones in her body. She suffered several concussions and head trauma. My remedies will take time to make her heal perfectly."

"I understand, Madam Pomfrey, but if you could give me five minutes. I swear it will not be long. Remus, can you please give us a moment?"

James' friend nodded immediately. He gave one last compassionate look to Lily, then left the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey also left them, walking towards her office, but Albus Dumbledore insisted she went outside the corridor. This conversation was for no one to hear but he and Lily. Reluctantly, Hogwarts' healer left her infirmary, but not without reminding to Dumbledore he only had four minutes and fifty seconds left.

The Hogwarts Headmaster came to sit by her side, a compassionate expression on his face.

"I'm sorry for James, Lily." Hearing his name was painful for her. She looked to the other side, to Harry. He was all she had left.

"I should have been there to protect him. I should have had my wand on me. I should have fought."

"Even if you did, he would have killed you," Dumbledore said on a soothing tone. "And Harry would be an orphan right now."

She cried. "I don't understand. I should be dead. Why? Why spare me and kill James? And try to kill Harry? He is just a baby."

"That... I'm not sure we will ever get an answer to this question. But there are important things to consider now Lily. Voldemort is gone."

She looked back at Dumbledore. "What?"

"It's not very clear for now, but it seems that when he tried to kill Harry, the curse bounced back and hit him instead."

She was confused. "Voldemort... is dead."

Dumbledore looked down. "I'm afraid he's not. We didn't find his body. It was probably destroyed in the explosion. The house was collapsing when we found you. We found his cloak, and his wand. I'm afraid he's still alive, somewhere, but too weak. The Ministry of Magic is already gathering resources and manpower to take down all his disciples."

That brought back her attention. "I've got to get out of here." She proceeded to sit. She had to stand up. For years they had fought, with little progress. So many of them had died fighting Voldemort and his followers. If they had a chance to bring them down, she had to be there. For Harry. For James. But she ended lying on her back again. The pain was horrible.

"You need rest, Lily. Voldemort may not have killed you, but he hurt you in all the other ways he could imagine. Anyway, it's not in the battlefield that you are the most needed right now. There's someone far more important who needs you."

He glanced over Lily's shoulder, and she followed his gaze to the cot, where Harry was still sleeping peacefully. Did her son have any idea of what had happened tonight? He was just into the world, and already he had his father murdered and his mother almost killed in front of his own eyes.

"Things are going to be very different from now on, Lily. Your son is going to be famous very soon. Word is already spreading of what happened tonight. There will not be a single child in our world who will ignore his name. All that before he can walk and talk, and for something he won't even remember. Do you understand, Lily?"

She kept her eyes on her son. He looked so peaceful right now. She envied him.

"I know you just lost James, but we must think about Harry right now. He's the one whose life will be forever changed by tonight's events."

Lily turned her head to look back at Dumbledore. "What should I do?"

Dumbledore cast a gaze at his watch. "I'm afraid our five minutes are exhausted." As if she had read his mind (as if it was possible to read Dumbledore's mind), Madam Pomfrey burst back into the infirmary, seeming ready to kick out the very headmaster of the school. "We'll discuss it later, when you've had time to rest. I guess you will give her some sleeping potion, Madam Pomfrey."

"Yes, I will," she replied on a severe tone. Dumbledore stood up, placing his hand warmly on Lily's shoulder with one last compassionate look, then walked away. It was then that Lily had a very strange question.

"What am I doing at Hogwarts? Why wasn't I brought to St Mungo's."

"I thought you would appreciate some privacy. And you are much safer here at Hogwarts."

This time, Dumbledore truly left, and Lily was stuck with the authoritarian healer of Hogwarts who almost forced her to drink the sleeping potion she had prepared. Soon, Lily drifted back into the darkness for a dreamless sleep. She needed it, but it was only temporary, and when she woke up, her heart was still as broken as before.

She had lost her husband, James, to Voldemort, and now she had to take care of their son alone, to protect him from everything in the world of magic that would threaten to break him. She was the Mother Who Lived.