'Avada Kedavra!'

I see the green light leave the wand pointed at me, and do not even try to avoid it. There was a time for running, but it is over now. It has been for quite some time now. There was a time for fighting, too. But I missed it. Now all that remains is the time to die. One time most of us cannot miss.

The green light blooms, blooms like a strange flower with peculiarly-shaped petals. No, not a flower, I realise. A clover. A four-leaved clover.



* * *

'Guess what, Sev!'

He looked up from the book he was reading, sitting on the forest clearing where we usually met, his back rested against a fallen, moss-covered tree trunk.

'Look what I found!'

I dropped my find onto the open pages of his book triumphantly.

'A shamrock!'

'Actually, it isn't correct to call this a shamrock,' Sev said, picking up the plant and examining it critically. 'A shamrock is, in fact, a normal three-leaved clover, the same one that's used as the Irish symbol.'

'Really?'

Plopping down to the ground next to him, I dragged the book from my lap to his. It was One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but a new one, not the tattered green-covered one I had seen him with until recently. Sev explained that his mother had insisted he had his own copy of the book now.

'Let's see now...' I muttered as he continued to examine the four-leaved clover, holding it in the stream of sunlight pouring in from between the trees. '"Powers: protection, money, love, fidelity – whatever that is…'"

'Loyalty,' Sev answered. 'There's a spell called the Fidelius Charm. I'm not sure how exactly it works, but it's used to keep a secret.'

'"Exorcism",' I continued, proud to not stumble over the difficult word, the meaning of which I had asked Sev just a few days ago, "'success." It also says here, "The Celts believed that seven grains of wheat laid on a four-leaved clover would enable one to see fairies." Do you think it would work?'

'It might, but the instructions are too vague. It doesn't say what kind of wheat, where or how. We could experiment for ages and get nowhere.'

'Oh, that's too bad… But I think it's lucky anyway.'

'You do?'

'Well, I always believed it was. Keep it,' I said as Sev handed me the shamrock – no, the clover, I corrected myself.

'What for?'

'Just something to remember me by.'

'You're not going anywhere, are you?'

'Well…' I looked down, for the first time voicing the fear that had haunted me for many days. 'What if I don't get a letter?'

'Of course you will! You're a real witch.'

'Even witches get unlucky sometimes.'

'Then you keep this,' Sev said, pressing the clover into my hand.

'No, you can't give it back. It was a gift.'

'You gave it to me, I took it, and now I'm letting you borrow it. I don't need the luck. I'm going to get my letter anyway, I know it.'

I hesitated, then took the clover and folded it into my pocket carefully.

'All right. But as soon as I get my letter, I will give it back to you.'

'Okay. But I will remember you anyway.'



* * *

Losing heart at the last moment, unable to look my death in the eye, I try to duck, stumble and fall to the floor, the green jet missing me by inches. I feel no relief – instead, I turn around, panicking, to see if the curse hit Harry. One glance at the cot is enough to see that he is alright, and I feel a hot wave of shame. My child will not see his mother dying on her knees, being finished like a cornered, cowardly rat. Stubbornly, I get to my feet and stare at the man in front of me.

Harry will not grow up to remember me, James must be already dead, and the monster who is about to kill me will not single me out of the list of his victims. No one will remember me no matter what stand I make. Not even the one who promised to remember.

Something to remember me by…

Was I the only one who kept a promise? I gave the clover back to Sev on the very day my Hogwarts letter had arrived.

Even witches get unlucky sometimes…

When Harry was born, James promised everything would be alright. Now he is dead and cannot keep his promise.

A spell called the Fidelius charm…

Peter promised he would keep the secret. No wonder I thought of the cowardly rats just now.

I will remember you…

Why did you forget me, Sev?

'Avada Kedavra!'

No more running. Where can I run in the world where no one keeps a promise?



There is a black blur in front of me, a moment of horrible silence, and a terrible, inhumane, drawn-out scream. I close my eyes, I clap my hands over my ears in an attempt to make it go away, and it seems that at this moment, I would do anything just to hear that scream no longer. I fall to my knees, vaguely aware of something slumping against me.

After an eternity, the silence is restored, and I lower my hands slowly. After another eternity, I gather enough courage to open my eyes.

I am still in Harry's bedroom, the place looking like it was caught in a brief gale. There is no sound except the creaking of the slowly rocking cot. There is no sign of the one who came here to kill us. And slumped on the floor in front of me, face down, is… someone.

I stare at the black cloak covering most of the stranger's person, waiting for a sound, for a breath, for a sign of life – waiting so intently that I find my own breath caught in my throat.

Whoever you are, don't be dead, I pray silently. Please don't be dead. I'm so scared, I'm so alone. Whoever you are, please be alive…

My prayer remains unanswered. The baby starts crying softly in the cot behind me. I get to my feet only to hold him, then drop to my knees again. Pressing Harry to myself with my right arm, I use my left to look for the pulse on the neck of the man sprawled on the floor. A minute. No heartbeat.

More afraid than I was when a wand was sending the Killing Curse my way, I turn the man onto his back. The black hood of the cloak falls away.



I don't know how much time I spend sitting on the floor clutching Harry to myself with one hand and holding the hand of the one who saved both our lives, with the other. It is almost as if I can change anything if I keep his hand in mine. It is almost as if it is not too late.

'Lily!'

I raise my head slowly, looking towards the sound of the voice. Another man stumbles through the door and rushes towards me as fast as he can, dragging his left leg and cradling his left arm with his right.

'Lily, Harry! You're alive!' he cries out, kneeling next to me awkwardly and embracing me with his right arm.

'Half the living-room collapsed on me. Voldemort thought I was done for, and I thought so for a moment too. I only just managed to-'

'James…' I mutter, finally succeeding at remembering his name. That's right. That's James. My husband. The father of my child.

'What happened here? Where's Voldemort?'

'I don't know. Gone.'

'How? What-' he finally notices the man on the floor. 'That's…'

'Yes,' I voice, barely able to move my lips. James looks around the room quickly and back at me.

'You can tell me later. Come on now. It's not safe here. We have to leave.'

'No, James. I will stay here,' I whisper.

'Lily, you've had a shock. You're not thinking straight. Come on. Let's go.'

'No!'

'Lily…'

'James, take Harry. Take him some place safe. I will come. When I can. I must stay here for now.'

'Lily, I know you must be-'

'Go away, James! NOW! If you ever want to see me again, leave me alone right now!' I scream, thrusting Harry into his father's arms. James gets up slowly and walks towards the door. He pauses, looking at me, but I just shake my head.



The door cannot be closed, as it was blown off the hinges. I don't care. In some time, I will get to my feet, I will follow my husband, I will take care of my child. I will keep my promises. No matter what it takes, I will keep my promises.

As did Sev.