The Death and Resurrection of Lilly Belafonte

Lilly jumped backwards from the table, throwing her arms up protectively over her face. Her reflexes were just fast enough; when the table exploded, her glass of milk crashed against her arm instead of her cheek, cutting her nevertheless, but not seriously injuring her.

“After all these years, Marilyn… you would actually try this now?” her husband whispered. He moved into the kitchen, stepping over the remains of what used to be his kitchen table.

“JD, you know she has to be developed. You know what happens to…” Marilyn managed as she edged away from him, towards her daughter.

JD smiled, and it was a terrible thing to see him do at that time, in that place. It only served to highlight the unspeakable contrast between his handsome, aristocratic face, his shining blonde hair, and the extraordinary cruelty that lay, mostly untapped, just under the surface.

“Of course I know, Marilyn. Didn’t we always? Didn’t you agree to this, knowing precisely what risks you were taking? Didn’t you pledge an oath on Styx water, Marilyn? Have you forgotten that your life will be mine, finally, if you do this?” JD questioned, his tall, muscular frame sliding closer with a lethal grace.

“I can’t let this happen to my daughter!” Marilyn cried, as she hurled herself sideways towards Lilly, who had not even moved to wipe away the blood that was dripping down her arm.

“Can’t?” JD questioned. “You cannot? I don’t think you understand even now, at the end, what was at stake here.” He lifted his arm, and suddenly there was a wand in it.

“Avada-”

But even as the curse formed, Marilyn had pulled her own wand… which she pointed at Lilly.

“Removeo te ad Hogwarts!” she cried, and Lilly felt her world spin away, just as her mother slumped forward on the kitchen floor.

It wasn’t like Apparating—Lilly had Apparated once, years before, with her mother, when they were visiting relatives in New England. This was like… death. Lilly could sense that she was moving, somehow, though she had no point of reference. All around her was a sickly gray, shot through occasionally with yellow bolts of plasma, and a sound like insects humming at the far edge of her hearing. There was no sense of touch, or taste, but smell… it was as if she were inhaling the scent of freshly opened graves. She might have felt queasy, if she could have felt her stomach.

Suddenly, the bolts around her were coming faster and faster, and she also could sense that she was spinning. Then, abruptly, her sense of self came back, and it felt as if her arms were being stretched off, then crushed, then liquefied.

Seconds later, she tumbled out onto the grounds in front of the Hogwarts gate.

Severus had been in a foul mood, which wasn’t entirely unusual for him. But more than just a bad mood, over the past summer holidays a slow simmering rage had been welling up underneath his usual foul temper, so that those few who knew him well were aware of the changes and were afraid for him.

He haded bed back into his dungeon apartments a day or so before, in preparation for the start of the fall term. As loathe as he was to admit it, he allyally misthe the airy sweetness of his estate in Greece, where he had spent the holidays, and found his dark flat even more depressing.

Harry Potter would be coming to Hogwarts in just a few days. Son of that bastard James, and that traitor Lilly. The Boy Who Fucking Lived. And in a matter of mere hours, the heir to that vile bloodline would begin tormenting him again, just as his parents had done.

His frustration had propelled him out of his rooms and up into the castle. It was dark and surreally quiet without the students buzzing and shouting and running… the Potions master much preferred it this way. Severus swept along corridors lit intermittently by flickering torches, his black robes billowing out to the sides, and dreamed about catching students out after curfew, and taking away house points. He desperately hoped Potter found a girlfriend or some other reason to go creeping the castle at night, because if so… Severusld cld catch him.

Visions of how he could torment Potter danced behind his eyes, and elevated his mood. Maybe having that bastard here wouldn’t be so bad after all…

Suddenly, Severus felt a strong tug, and knew that powerful dark magic had been wielded nearby. He spun on his heels and drew his wand in one smooth motion…

…but there was nothing there. Cautiously, he began moving towards where he had felt the magic. Whatever was going on, couldn’t possibly be good.




Lilly was sobbing uncontrollably, vomiting, and shaking as if she were in the throes of a seizure. Every nerve ending in her body was firing randomly, filling her with random pleasure that was just as unwelcome as the alternating pain. But slowly, it all began to subside, and she managed to stand.

It was the darkest part of the night there in central Scotland. Before her were great iron gates, shut fast against whatever might intrude, with the words “Hogwarts” engraved upon them. Beyond the wall loomed an enormous castle, the likes of which she believed had long since vanished from the world. Tower rose upon tower, battlement upon battlement, up higher and higher than she thought possible. Torches flashed here and there in the darkness, up above in the castle. Beyond the highest towers was a striated sky of streaming silver clouds, and beyond those, the great white moon.

Lilly realized she was afraid, truly afraid. Her father had just hurt her mother, possibly even killing her, and now she was on the other side of the world

Locked out.

A/N

I’m sorry this is such a short chapter, but since I won’t be able to post anything else until Tuesday, I thought this was the better option.

Francy… just a bit closer to some hot Malfoy action, oh yeah. ;-)