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The Last Battle
Disclaimer (as is traditional in fanfics): Who do I look like, JK Rowling?
It was obviously late, with the last bits of sun disappearing over the horizon, and would have been dark, had there not been multicolored jets of light flying in every direction. The moist quiet characteristic of early evening was broken by the shouting of spells, the responding screams, and the general din of a large-scale duel. Tombstones scattered around indicated that it was a graveyard. Behind one of the larger stones crouched a young girl, about five years old, her brilliant green eyes wide behind round wire-rimmed glasses and fixed on the dueling pair in front of her. She was restraining herself from crying out, a voice ringing in her head telling her It is crucial that you stay absolutely silent.
"I know your aim is better than that, Malfoy." In front of the tombstone, a woman smirked slightly as a jet of green light flew over her shoulder. At her feet was a body, which she was standing over protectively; its face was shielded by a mop of dark hair. Fragments of glass and twisted bits of wire dotted the ground around it.
The man opposite her, his blonde hair gleaming silver in the twilight, sneered and said, "I wasn't aiming at you."
The woman turned around and saw the purposefully slow stream of sparks reflecting off the young girl's glasses, which were staring off in another direction.
"No," she gasped, and took off running after it. As she gained on it, the spell resumed normal speed towards its target. With her last burst of energy, the woman ran directly into the spell's path. The light hit her on the shoulder just above her heart. Her body instantly went limp and collapsed.
The young girl gasped in horror. Her gaze was fixed on the body, which had fallen only a few feet away from the stone behind which she was hiding. Several green sparks still hovered over the body for a few moments, and when they floated upward the young girl followed them slowly with her eyes. She was not quick enough to see them join a spray of red sparks, but when she did look up, the combination struck her right in the middle of her forehead. Then the young girl did what she had been struggling not to do, and had been succeeding remarkably well for someone who her age.
She screamed.
Her head was exploding with blinding pain. She clutched at her forehead, feeling the blood trickle down her face from a jagged gash the curse had left. Her eyes were squeezed tightly and her glasses were beginning to cut into the bridge of her nose.
Strong arms grabbed her from behind. The young girl recognized them and passed out in them. The arms lifted her bodily and carried her out of harm's way, towards a voice that was shouting to hurry up. The arms shifted the young girl's body so one hand was free, with which it grabbed a wooden table leg being brandished at it.
"One...two...three..."
Had the young girl been conscious, she would have felt a violent jerk behind her navel. The surroundings dissolved.
Six years later, a pair of green eyes opened with a start. The girl they belonged to pushed her round wire-rimmed glasses into place, and then a strand of jet-black hair out of her eyes. She closed her eyes again briefly, trying to recall the dream, but it was no use. Try as she might, she could not bring it back. Faces blurred, voices became interrupted with static, any bit of recognition she thought she had felt evaporated. This she found quite disconcerting, as it was the same dream she had had every night for the last week, since her grandparents had told her she was moving to England. She studied the luggage tag she had jokingly put around her wrist; her name, Lily Potter, was smudged, as was most of her writing as a result of her being left-handed.
Now that she thought about it, though, Lily realized that the dream had started not when she had been told she was going, but when her grandmother let slip that she was moving back. When Lily had asked what she had meant, her grandmother had just shaken her head and changed the subject.
For as long as she could remember, Lily had been living with her grandparents. William and Janice Robb were her mother's parents, and they had taken her in when her parents had died in a car crash, or so they had said. Lily ran a finger over a thin scar on her forehead shaped like a lightning bolt; she felt sure that this was not the case, but couldn't think of what the case actually was. Lily knew that most people's past, or at least their first five years or so, were a blur. But hers justÉweren't there. She had lived with her grandparents for as long as she could remember, but then, she couldn't remember past her sixth birthday, give or take about a month.
Lily shifted in her cramped airplane seat and felt something dig into her leg. She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a thick yellowish envelope. It was addressed in dark green ink:
Ms. L. Potter
c/o William and Janice Robb
2 Library Drive
Pt. Washington, NY 11050
Lily turned the envelope over and examined the seal on the back. Imprinted in the violet wax were a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle grouped around an ornate letter H. Lily so wanted to open the envelope; it was addressed to her, after all. But her grandmother had strictly forbidden her to.
"You will be met by a man named Sirius Black. You are to give him this," her grandmother had said, handing Lily the envelope. "You may not, under any circumstances, open it, unless Sirius says you can."
"Do I know him?" Lily had asked, "Will I recognize him?"
"He knows you," her grandmother replied, "You know him also, but you won't remember him. At least, you shouldn't" The last bit was said quietly, but Lily had heard. She put the envelope away.
But, quite frankly, Lily was glad to be going. She had not quite fit in at school; her classmates had made fun of her for everything, her eyes, her accent, her scar. She had never had a knack for sports, but she had long legs, and was a strong runner. She also had an odd habit of climbing things. There was a lovely tree in her front yard; she spent most of her free time in its higher branches, watching birds, and fervently wishing she could take to the air with them. At home, she would sit on the arms of chairs and couches, or on their backs, rather than actually in the seats. Her grandfather was an avid stargazer, and would often take her up on their roof to watch eclipses, meteor showers, and the like.
Lily was very glad to meet people on her father's side of the family. She had very few relatives on his side; her father's parents had died a long time before she was born, and he, Harry, had been in a situation similar to the one that she, Lily, was in now. She had met a lot of her grandparents' friends; Janice had a few friends over on Saturdays to play canasta, and William often had friends over to watch football (American, of course). Lily could only assume that all of her father's friends were still in England. Her grandparents, both sets, were English; William and Janice had moved to the states later on. So Lily had grown up with an accent, but was now beginning to wonder whether she would get her words mixed up in this world where "football" meant "soccer", "crisp" meant "chip", and "chip" meant "fry."
A voice over the loudspeaker interrupted Lily's thoughts.
"We are now beginning our descent into London Heathrow Airport. Please put your tray table up and your seatback in the full upright position. The date is July thirtieth and the temperature isÉ"and so on. Lily half listened for a while, then pulled up the plastic shade of the window next to her. She pressed her cheek against the cool glass and glanced out. The plane descended through a cloud, and burst out of the whiteness to find the green of the English countryside beneath it.
Ten minutes later, the plane touched down on the runway at Heathrow with a light bump. All of the passenger shifted uneasily as the plane was taxied to the terminal. Then the plane stopped and the passengers finally began to disembark. Lily picked up her faded blue backpack, stretched, and wove her way into the crowded aisle. After squashing off the plane and down a small corridor, Lily finally stepped through a door into the airport. Blinking in the sunlight, she scanned the crowds; she began to wonder what she was supposed to do when she heard a voice calling her name.
"Lily!" Lily turned around and was met by the sight of three people-a gaunt-looking man with graying hair accompanied by two girls about her own age.
"Lily," the man said, "you won't remember me, but I'm Sirius. Sirius Black." Lily blinked-and remembered her grandmother's words at the airport in New York. She took the envelope out of her pocket.
"Yes," Lily said to him, "My grandmother told me to give you this." She handed him the envelope; Sirius glanced at it knowingly, stowed it in his own pocket, and said, "Come on then, we'd best be going if we are going to be back before dinner. Girls, introduce yourselves." He nudged the two girls, then went off to find out which baggage claim they would be looking for. One of the girls, with strawberry-blonde ringlets and shining hazel eyes, spoke first.
"I'm Davina," she said, "Davina Rile. I've missed you so much these last six years." When answered only by a blank stare, Davina sighed. "It seems we've got a lot of explaining to do. Anyway, that one," she said, indicating the other girl, whose reddish-brown hair was pulled carelessly back into a ponytail and whose stormy blue eyes showed her mind was elsewhere, "is my cousin Stella." Suddenly, the other girl's eyes snapped back to reality.
"I can introduce myself, thank you," said Stella pointedly. "I," she said to Lily, "am Stella Ashley Lovegood-Black. Sirius is our granddad."
"I'm Lily," Lily replied, "Lily Potter."
"Well," Stella said, eying Lily's scar, "That much is obvious." Lily caught Stella's gaze; she tilted her head sideways, causing her bangs to fall in her eyes and cover her scar.
"Wait, I'm confused," Lily said, "how is it obvious?"
"Stella," Sirius said warningly as he returned, "Not yet." Then to Lily he said, "What she means isÉwell, you look just like your father." Lily gasped.
"You knew my father?"
"Of course," said Sirius, sighing deeply. "I am-I mean, I was his godfather." Lily took a few deep breaths. This was it-she was finally going to meet people related to her father, even if not by blood. They would be able to tell her about her father, maybe show her some pictures. Perhaps they would help her find out how he and her mother died; she still wasn't altogether convinced by her grandparents' story. Sensing this was a sensitive topic, Sirius changed the subject.
"That's enough for now," he said, "we'd better hurry home, or Lyra will have my head if I give you too much information now."
Lily followed Sirius. Stella and Davina brought up the rear, lagging behind slightly while bickering quietly. Lily only caught a few words of this; the one occurring most often was what sounded like "Quidditch". It was probably something made up, for Lily could make neither head nor tail of it. The four pushed their way through the crowds of summer tourists and made their way down to the baggage claim.
"Which one is it?" Lily asked, squinting up at the arrival board.
"Number four," Sirius replied, "come on, it's started." As they waited for the baggage claim, Lily noticed that both Stella and Davina were staring at it with a bit of amazement, as if they had never seen one before. Suddenly, Lily saw her small red suitcase emerging; she ran up and grabbed it. She returned to Sirius, who said, "Right, got everything? Let's get going then." But it wasn't as simple as that; after getting lost several times, Sirius finally consented to asking a security guard, after which they found their way out with astonishing ease.
Outside the airport, they caught a bus. Sirius found them some seats in the back; Stella settled herself next to the window and began staring out of it with a mild interest. Sirius pulled a crossword out of his pocket. Lily and Davina sat in an awkward silence for a few moments, and then Davina tried to start a conversation.
"It's really great having you come to stay with us," she said, "I'm sick of being stuck with Stella. She's alright sometimes, but the rest of the time, she just ignores the rest of the world. Like now." Lily glanced at Stella, who was now humming quietly to herself. Davina signaled to Lily to be quiet, reached a hand over, and lightly yanked Stella's ponytail. Stella yelped in surprise, looked around wildly, and then settled back to staring out the window. Lily and Davina laughed until Sirius shot them a quelling glance, Davina settled back into her seat and sighed.
"It's good to have you back," she said. Lily took off her glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her t-shirt. She rubbed her eyes before replacing her glasses, and then stared at the ceiling. The rest of the ride passed in silence, but now the silence was a friendly one rather than an awkward one.
Soon the bus reached the heart of London.
"Get ready, girls," Sirius said as he peered at the map, "we're next." He stood up and lifted Lily's suitcase off the overhead rack. He tapped Stella, who was still staring out the window, on the shoulder. "Stella-next stop." The bus turned the corner; over the loudspeaker came "Grimmauld Square." The bus coasted to a stop in a dingy little square; the fronts of the houses were dirty, several had broken windows. Sirius led the three girls off the bus and across the square, stopping in front of the plain, battered door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was evidently the cleanest house, and had no broken windows, but it was still shabby nonetheless.
"It's not much on the outside," Davina said as Sirius fished in his pocket for keys, "But the inside more than makes up for it." Sirius found his keys and opened the door.
Davina was right: the inside did make up for the outside's worn appearance. The vestibule was paneled wood, and the inside door was covered with a large arched window. To the right was an ugly gray umbrella stand that looked like the foot of a massive elephant, or worse. Far from finding it ugly, though, Lily found it quite funny, and laughed when she saw it. The inner door was opened and Lily stepped into an old-looking hallway, with candles burning brightly in polished silver wall sconces. It was not an unpleasant old, but more of a pleasant imitation of old, like a period room in a museum.
Sirius strode down the corridor and into a room on the right out of which delicious aromas were beginning to emerge. Lily was once again left alone with Davina and Stella. The three stood silently for a moment at the foot of the stairs, until Davina finally said to Lily, "come on up-let me show you your room."
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