Miriam was trapped inside of a living nightmare.

She had at last dragged herself up the front steps of the small, two-story cottage in Godric’s Hollow. Though her limbs felt like lead, her mind felt light and airy, as though in a daze. From far away she felt the greasy waves of nausea, the sharp cramps stabbing at her sides, but those too seemed unreal somehow. Once a welcoming, cozy ambience had been exuded from the house; but now it seemed desolate, cold…cursed. The windows were broken at jagged edges, and Miriam saw to her complete despair that the front door was wide open. Lily and James would never leave their front door open. But there was still a chance, still hope…they could have gotten away, they could have escaped. Left the house to look as though it had been attacked, a trick, perhaps?

Miriam pushed herself to her feet and drew her wand. “Lumos!” she whispered. The house was dark and eerily quiet. They’ve left, they’ve gone already, Miriam told herself as she spun a slow circle in the foyer. The Potters are fine.

But someone else could still be here, waiting. Watching. A cold trickle of fear slid down Miriam’s spine. Well then, she thought, they’ll have to face me, first.

“If there’s anyone in here,” called out Miriam, her voice higher than normal but steady nonetheless, “just look out!”

Miriam gripped her wand so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never been a particularly good dueler. In fact, some would call her awful. But damn if she’d run away from her friends, damn if she wouldn’t at least stand and fight, even if only for a moment before death.

“It’s no use!” she shouted now, walking through the living room towards the stairs leading to the nursery. She ignored the ruined furniture around her, the cracked picture frames and burn marks in the rugs. “They’re gone, they’ve left! And they’re not coming back! You’ve lost them!” A strange, slightly hysterical edge had slid into Miriam’s voice. “You’ve lost them and now you’ll have to answer to your Master! He won’t be pleased, oh no, you’ve lost the Potters!” And she began to laugh, a slightly mad sound. “You’ve lost the Potters and now….”

Miriam had been so focused on the nursery door ahead of her that she tripped on something rather large and fell forward, hitting her forehead on the edge of a step. Black spots swam in front of Miriam’s eyes as she lay there, pressing the heel of her hand to the throbbing spot. She felt dizzy, felt as though she would very much like to simply stay there and take a nice little nap. But she knew she had to get up, had to move. If there was someone still in the house…but what had she tripped over?

Miriam pushed herself up, propped up on her elbows…and screamed.

Miriam had tripped over, and was now half sprawled atop of the dead body of James Potter.

Fire and ice clashed in a violent duel throughout Miriam’s blood, half paralyzing her, half pushing her to move. With animalistic groan, she shifted so that she were crouching above James, drew back her hand…and slapped him, hard, across the face.

“Get up!” she screamed at the staring face. “GET UP!”

James did not get up.

Miriam fisted her hands at the front of his shirt, tears streaming down her cheeks like endless rivers. Vaguely, she could feel that beneath a clenched hand there was no movement where a beating heart should have been.

“James,” Miriam moaned. “Please…get up.”

Miriam felt her body shaking, felt the nausea rising in her throat. James Potter was dead. James had been killed. Miriam lifted a hand to his eyelids, and gently, as though he were a sleeping child, closed them. Miriam lifted her flooded eyes to the nursery door, not ten steps above her…and froze.

Everything was blurry, she couldn’t see clearly…it was a figment of her imagination. It had to be. But when Miriam blinked the stinging, blinding tears furiously from her vision, the blur of red on the floor, just peeking out from the doorway had not vanished.

“No.”

Miriam pushed herself to her feet and half ran-half crawled the rest of the way up the steps, tripping once over James’ limp arm that had been flung out. The red blur was closer now and Miriam had the very detached, dreamy thought that it looked very much like hair.

Miriam stepped into the nursery, and over the body of Lily Potter.

It was pain beyond sanity, grief beyond comprehension. Miriam sank to the floor with a moan of anguish, threw her arms around the body of her dearest friend, and wept into the pretty, soft green blouse that Lily had been so fond of.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours. Miriam had no idea. But for however long she lay there, she cried and sobbed, screamed and cursed. Miriam stroked Lily’s hair, pressed kisses to her cheeks, her forehead, and chin. She cradled Lily’s heavy head, her tears dripping down onto Lily’s pale cheeks. A face that only hours before had been so full of life, had beamed at Miriam with joy and affection. She shook her and coddled her, loved her even as she cursed her. And at last, when Miriam was dry, her sobs heavy and breathy, Miriam simply lifted a cold hand, pressed it to her lips. Then yelped.

A noise, a human voice. There was someone else in the house. Miriam scrambled to her feet and drew her wand again. Now there was no fear, no question in her mind. Within the next minute, Miriam would either kill or be killed. But she even if she died in the process, Miriam, for the first time in her life, sincerely hoped that she would take a life along with her.

The voice sounded again, indistinguishable, and, realizing that it was right behind her, spun around, wand outstretched, an unforgivable curse on her lips. But Miriam found herself facing not a Death Eater but…a crib.

Miriam’s wand dropped to the floor in a clatter. There was another sound, a wail of sorts. A gurgle. But it couldn’t be, it was impossible…

Slowly, not even daring to breathe, Miriam approached the crib and peered over it. There lay her godson, Harry, his arms outstretched and reaching for her, his face screwed up and red. If ever a miracle and tragedy could simultaneously embody a single moment in time, this was it; Harry Potter was very much alive. Miriam’s entire body trembled and she bit her bottom lip hard until she tasted blood. Though her entire body yearned to scoop him up and run, Miriam was afraid that if she moved too fast, he would prove to be just a figment of her imagination and disappear from her sight forever; Miriam didn’t think she could survive that. Ever so slowly, shaking, her arms reached down into the crib. Harry hurtled an arm up with a squeal and clasped a tiny hand around one of Miriam’s thumbs. She both sobbed and laughed from the relief of contact with his soft skin. Then she gently lifted him into her careful arms. For a moment, Miriam simply focused on breathing, focused on the weight of Harry in her arms. Love that she thought had vanished completely flooded her, and she willed it back into him, willed it to keep him warm and safe. Instinctively, she turned so Harry’s vision was obscured from the body of his mother, even though it meant that Lily’s dead form was clear in Miriam’s eyes.

“I’ll take care of him,” she said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to him. I’ll love him as if he were my own.” Miriam’s throat tightened, her voice shook. Tears dripped down her cheeks. But she would finish. “I promise you, Lily. I promise, I won’t let you down.”

Glancing back down at Harry, she suddenly noticed for the first time that a bit of blood was smeared across his forehead. Frowning, Miriam shook up the sleeve of her robe and dabbed at the jagged wound. Harry let out a wail of pain.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Miriam murmured and pressed a kiss to his head. Then she examined the cut closely, baffled. It went deep and seemed to have a zig-zag shape to it. Yet there had been very little blood for such an angry wound. “Don’t you worry, I’ll have that right in a jiffy.” Miriam’s eyes searched the floor for her wand when…

Footsteps, loud and heavy sounded from somewhere downstairs. Immediately, Miriam pressed herself against the wall, hidden behind the nursery door that still hung wide open. Her heart pounded, with fear yes, but more so with anticipation. She could not afford to be reckless anymore. Holding Harry close to her with one arm, she reached out the other and whispered, “Accio wand!”

Her wand leapt off the floor and smoothly floated into Miriam’s outstretched hand. Her fingers curled tightly around it. She would fight, would protect Harry no matter what the cost. The footsteps were closer now, nearly at the steps. Miriam silently begged Harry to remain still, her own breathing even and soundless. Her heart had begun to pound so loudly in her ears, she was sure it could be heard from feet away. Miriam was trying very hard to ignore the fact that the lifeless body of her best friend lay only feet from where she stood.

The intruder was close now, was nearly at the steps when suddenly, a howl, like that of a wounded beast. It echoed throughout the house, so agonized and pained, it ripped away at the pieces of Miriam’s already broken heart.

Sirius.

Sirius had found James.

Instantly, without thinking, Miriam flung herself out from behind the door just as Sirius stumbled in His eyes looked from the body of Lily on the floor, to Miriam, and back again to Lily where they lingered.

Miriam watched him, not knowing what to do, at a loss for words. The man standing before her was not the one that such an agonized cry had emerged from only moments before…it couldn’t be. The Sirius staring at the body of Lily stood up straight, as if his spine had been locked in place. His mouth was set tight, his brow furrowed so close together. His fists clenched at his sides, his breathing ragged and shallow. Grief did not pulse from his body, but something else, something darker and, thought Miriam, dangerous.

“Sirius.” Miriam stepped towards him and placed a hand on his arm. Sirius’s eyes flicked to her so suddenly that Miriam’s heart skipped a beat. They were dark and lifeless, and stared at Miriam as though they had never seen her before. Something like fear tickled the back of Miriam’s throat.

“Sirius,” she said again, her voice shaking. “We need to get out of here. There’s nothing you can do. We need to leave, now. He could come back any minute…”

A small cry emerged from Harry, and now Sirius’s gaze now fixed on him, as though he had only just noticed the child’s presence.

“He’s alive,” was all he said.

“Sirius,” said Miriam, now moving her hand from his arm to his cheek. She watched, oddly fascinated, as the deadened look in his eyes flickered for just an instant as she touched him, but then it was back, mixed with something so black it shook Miriam to the core. He’s in shock, she told herself.

“Harry’s ours now. He's our responsibility. We need to get him away from here. Sirius, are you listening to me?”

For a moment, Sirius made no response. Miriam stared at him, bewildered. Then he said, “Someone’s coming.”

Before Miriam could even register what was happening, Sirius had thrown out an arm, pushing Miriam and Harry behind him while he stepped forward, wand at the ready. Footsteps, louder and even heavier than his had been, echoed up the stairs. There was another beast-like cry, and then Hagrid staggered into the room, his massive form barely squeezing through the narrow doorway.

Another wail like a trumpet as Hagrid’s eyes fell upon Lily. Sirius lowered his wand and Miriam stepped from behind his guard. She loosened her grip on Harry, but just a little.

“Hagrid,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Hagrid took a deep breath, then another. It was obvious speaking was very difficult for him; tears streaked down his ruddy face and into his straggly beard, but Miriam could tell he was fighting the very same grief that threatened to overwhelm her as well.

“Dumbledore,” he managed. “Dumbledore sent me as soon as we heard the news. Aw, bloody hell. This ain’t happening it’s like a bad dream or summat. It’s true, though? Little Harry, he’s alright?”

Miriam nodded. She turned, just a bit so Hagrid could see Harry’s face, wide-eyed and alive, but found for some reason that she had not wanted to.

Sirius still had not said anything. Miriam found this all very troubling, Sirius’s stone-like silence, Hagrid’s presence…

“Hagrid, what’s the word from Dumbledore?” she asked, tentatively.

Hagrid pulled a rather large tissue from his coat pocket and blew his nose so loudly Miriam’s ears popped.

“Aw, well,” said Hagrid, stuffing the soaked tissue back into his pocket. “Yer not fit ter be liking this much. Dumbledore told me to go to the Potter’s and see…and see if it were true. Then he asked me ter take Harry and �“ ”

“How did Dumbledore know that Harry was still alive?” Miriam demanded.

Hagrid shrugged. “He told me to take Harry from the house �“ ”

“Well, I suppose you don’t have to worry about that now, do you,” said Miriam, her voice sharper than she had intended. “We’re here now, so you can go back and tell Dumbledore…tell him that we’ve got him. He’s safe, with us. So you can just…leave.”

But Hagrid did not leave. Instead he simply shook his head, sadly.

“He wants me ter take Harry to his Muggle relatives.”

“But…what?” Miriam sputtered. “But that’s ridiculous! We’re his…Lily and James wanted us to take care of him! They would want us to have him! Dumbledore knows that, why would he say such a thing?”

Miriam spun around to Sirius for support. He remained very still, and silent. Furious, she turned back to Hagrid. Why wouldn’t he just leave?

Hagrid heaved a great sigh. “Dumbledore made it clear that under no conditions �“ ”

Miriam spat at the ground by Hagrid’s feet.

“You can tell Dumbledore that’s what I think of him and his conditions!” Miriam shouted, furiously. She could see Hagrid’s fight for control, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled, as friendship battled with loyalty. But Miriam didn’t care.

“Dumbledore has no right to be setting conditions at Harry’s stake,” she exclaimed. “Harry is ours, he belongs to us now, and if you think I’m going to let you walk out of this house with him, you’re �“ ”

“Give him to Hagrid, Miriam.”

For a moment, Miriam thought she had imagined the words. She turned, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, to Sirius.

“What did you just say?”

“Give Harry to Hagrid, Miriam,” said Sirius softly.

A full minute passed in which Miriam could only stare at him. At last she whispered, “Who are you?”

Sirius, his expression completely unreadable took a step towards Miriam and gripped her shoulders, hard. He tilted his head down so their faces were only inches apart and spoke in a low voice that only she could hear.

“Trust me, Miriam. We’ll get him back. Give him to Hagrid now, and I promise you, we’ll get him back.” Miriam was shaking her head ‘No’, her cheek rubbing back and forth along the top of Harry’s head.

“I promised her,” Miriam said, and began to weep softly.

“Here now,” said Sirius, and frowning, he coaxed Harry from Miriam’s unwilling arms. She let out a moan of pain, as though he were ripping something that had been actually attached to her.

Miriam watched in heartbreaking disbelief as Sirius carried Harry, who had begun to wail miserably the moment he had been freed of Miriam’s arms, over to Hagrid. She watched as he hesitated for just a moment before Hagrid, touching a hand to Harry’s cheek and staring down into his face, but it was only for an instant. Then Harry was buried in Hagrid’s enormous arms and Miriam could see her godson no more.

“Take my bike, Hagrid,” said Sirius, his voice now tight and low, like a growl. “I won’t be needing it anymore.”

Hagrid turned to Miriam, a truly regretful expression on his face. He looked as though he was about to speak, but the look on Miriam’s face silenced him. With a great sniffle, he turned around and walked out the door, taking a howling Harry with him.

Miriam did not move. She shook from head to toe, but did not take a single step towards or away from Sirius.

“Miriam…”

“I didn’t say goodbye,” she said, her voice dangerously quiet. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

“Miriam,” said Sirius again, as though she had not spoken. “I have to go.”

Now Miriam spun around to face him. Fury, insults, taunts dangled on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to rage at him, to curse him. But all she said was, “Why?”

“There is…something I need to take care of,” he said, not meeting her gaze. “Go to the hospital, there might have been more attacks. See what you can do to help.” Then, before she could offer any protest, her yanked her hard to him and pressed a firm kiss to Miriam’s slack mouth. He buried his hands into her hair, rubbed his thumbs along her damp cheeks to erase the tears. Miriam had the sudden compulsion to throw her arms around his waist and pull him close and never let him go…

But Sirius did let go, and abruptly began walking out the door. It took Miriam a moment to absorb what was happening before her eyes. Sirius was leaving. He was nearly halfway down the stairs before she snapped back.

“Sirius!” she called, chasing after him. “Sirius wait! Sirius, please don’t go!”

But he kept walking, his eyes fixed straight ahead, as though refusing to look back at her.

“Sirius, I have a bad feeling about this! Don’t go!”

Sirius stood in the doorway, the night air blowing in, tussling his hair. At last, he turned and faced her, his expression still impassive, but there was something in his eyes…

And suddenly, like a slap to the face, it hit Miriam. She had nearly forgotten.

“Sirius, I have something to tell you!”

CRACK!

He had vanished right before her eyes. Numb from head to toe, Miriam sank to the ground, completely alone.