Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

For as long as Harry could remember, he’d dreamed of the fire lady.

She wasn’t made of fire, or even used it in the dreams, but her red hair flickered sometimes, curling up on its own, stray strands glinting gold every so often. It was magic hair, Harry felt certain, and he thought of her as the fire lady because of it.

They didn’t ever talk when he dreamed - honestly, Harry wasn’t sure she could, so he didn’t bother. Words weren’t needed, not really, not when he could curl up in her lap and relax beneath her fingers running through his messy black hair, a lullaby hummed in the air around them.

Harry didn’t need words to know she loved him, when no one else in the world did.

Well, almost no one else; whenever he went to sleep on Halloween night, locked in the cupboard early so the Dursleys could go out trick-or-treating, a sad man showed up with the fire lady. He never spoke either, just sat a little bit away from them and watched, smiling even through the tears that sometimes dripped down his face. Harry tried to get up and walk over to him once, to see if he could, but something cold rushed over his face and he woke up back in the broom cupboard.

The fire lady held him extra tight the next night.

“Dad! The freak got a letter!”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Poppycock - who would send a letter to you?”

But Harry did get a letter. And the next day he got two, and then four, and more and more until nearly every available surface outside was covered in owls, and Uncle Vernon nailed boards over practically every spot they could conceivably get into the house.

Not that it did any good, come Sunday, and the veritable onslaught of letters that poured in from everywhere.

For the first time that he’d ever noticed, the fire lady looked downright smug in Harry’s dreams.

“Did you know them?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. “My parents?”

Hagrid slowly set down his knife and fork, eyes glued to the dinner plate rather than look up to meet Harry’s hopeful gaze. “...they were good folks, yer mum ‘n dad. Ye look just like James, y’know - same hair, ‘n yer face too, far as I can tell. But yer mum’s eyes, sharp green they were. Don’t remember either of ‘em being quite as quiet as ye, Harry, but ye seem t’ have Lily’s manners, at least, and yer dad’s habit fer handlin’ the unexpected easy as anythin’.”

“...what color was my mum’s hair?”

“Brightest red I’d seen on anyone who weren’t a Prewett or a Weasley, I’ll say! You could see Lily comin’ a mile off, ‘specially if the sun were out - made her hair light up like fire, it did.”

Oh.

...

Well then.

Hagrid rented them a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the night, and Harry got to sleep on a real mattress for the first time ever - not that he stayed awake long enough to truly enjoy it, though. After such a thoroughly exciting and exhausting day, he dropped off to sleep practically the moment his head hit the pillow.

When the dream started, he found himself sitting beside the fire lady as usual, on the whisper-soft grass beneath a large tree, overlooking a lake that seemed to stretch on forever and ever. He twisted in place to look up at her, to look into eyes as green as his own, a detail Harry had somehow never picked up on before.

As if she knew what he’d figured out, his mum grinned a little wider than usual. She leaned over to hug him as hard as she could, and then they settled back against the tree together, as the humming that always seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere started up.

After learning about the Wizarding World and Voldemort and how his parents really died, Harry tried to speak up in the dreams, to ask his mum about it all. But she never replied, never answered any of his questions besides smiling sadly and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He didn’t like giving up, but Harry didn’t exactly see any other options when she couldn’t seem to ever say a word in return. Even trying simple yes or no questions didn’t get them anywhere, Lily only replying with little half-smiles and silent sighs.

So, instead, he started telling her about his visit to Diagon, and all the strange and wonderful things he got to see, and the school books and Hedwig and his brand new bedroom. Her face went a little strained when Harry mentioned that part, so he breezed past talking about sorting through Dudley’s cast-off toys for usable items and instead went back to the textbooks he’d started reading. Lily smiled brightly each time he did that, which only encouraged Harry to read more chapters out of one book or another every day.

He liked getting to make his mum smile like that.

By the time September rolled around, Harry felt fit to burst with anticipation. There were ups and downs through the day, of course: not being able to find Platform Nine and Three Quarters at first, only to turn around and meet the Weasleys; finding a compartment for himself, only to wind up sharing it and making a new friend. All of it served to make his nervous excitement grow with every hour.

And then, they arrived.

Harry let himself stick close to Ron as they joined the group of new first year students hurrying after Hagrid’s long stride, all the way down the steps and into a boat without paddles or motor. Which, turned out to be unneeded, when a single shouted command caused all the boats to glide forward across the lake seemingly under no power at all.

Magic.

Harry’s skin practically started to tingle as they crossed the water, and it only got worse when the castle itself came into view, every visible window lit up with golden light. He didn’t notice the tingling pass from mere nerves to an actual physical sensation until everyone disembarked on the far shore, as that was when Ron leaned a little closer to whisper, “You alright there, mate?”

“Yeah,” Harry immediately answered, rubbing a palm against his forehead and blinking at how warm his skin felt. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Even so, Ron still looked a touch concerned, and they lingered for a minute in order to traipse along at the very end of the group of eleven year olds.

Closer and closer to the castle, everything got warmer and warmer - not unpleasantly so, exactly, certainly not in a way that hurt, but it took all of Harry’s efforts to concentrate on continuing to move towards the doors ahead. He stumbled a little when everybody came to a stop, helped a tad when Ron stepped up close enough for him to lean against the redhead’s shoulder. “You sure you’re fine?”

“...I don’t know,” Harry admitted, getting worried in spite of himself. “Maybe too many sweets?”

Ron looked doubtful, and honestly, Harry didn’t think that was the problem either; his stomach didn’t hurt in the slightest, nor anything else for that matter. He was just- feeling too much, in his skin and in the air and- and his scar. Blimey, once he noticed how much hotter that one part of his forehead felt compared to everywhere else, it became impossible to ignore.

Harry almost missed the stern looking woman who came out to collect them from Hagrid, and only started moving again thanks to a careful nudge from Ron. The heat built and concentrated on his scar as they moved up the steps, until-

-the threshold.

One step, and suddenly all the tingling warmth flickered and vanished. Harry blinked, startled by how swiftly he went from overwhelmed to perfectly normal. Another nudge from Ron encouraged him to keep moving, and they quickly caught back up to the rest of the group.

(An ancient, powerful presence welcomed the relatively bright young spirit into its collective consciousness. They spoke, in the odd melding way that such beings ever spoke, and struck a bargain. Shared power, shared influence, shared protective mission, in exchange for one bonding permanently to the other, and a single little spark given greater importance than all others within their boundaries.

And so the slumbering dragon gained a flame once more.)

When Harry went to sleep in the dormitory after the Welcoming Feast and Sorting, he hoped there might be something different about seeing his mum, but tried to convince himself that, realistically, probably nothing had changed.

His efforts at maintaining low expectations went out the window as soon as he opened his eyes in the red and gold common room of Gryffindor Tower.

After gaping for a moment, the boy turned in place, and sucked in a deep breath when he spotted his mum sitting on one of the chairs beside the lit fireplace. She beamed as soon as their eyes met, and held out both arms towards him. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Oh.

Well then.

Harry wasted no time in rushing forward to hug her back.

That first night, Harry didn’t say much, too overcome by his mother constantly repeating over and over how much she loved him, how proud she was that he’d made it so far. She rocked him back and forth a bit, like a baby, but he honestly didn’t mind that much. “Is it- is this because we’re at Hogwarts, now?”

“Partly that, love; and partly because I made a deal with the castle’s spirit as soon as we got here.” Lily squeezed him tighter for a moment. “I didn’t have much strength to interact with you before, but now- now things are different. I’m going to do a much better job of looking after you, Harry, I promise.”

And Harry liked the sound of that, he really did, but- “What sort of deal?”

One of his mum’s hands came up to stroke his hair, which the boy definitely enjoyed. “Shared power, and shared bonds. When I’m not visiting you at night, I’ll be out and about in the castle, overseeing things, watching out for danger. And in exchange for my being a more active guardian for everyone who lives here, Hogwarts herself has agreed you get to take priority, in case anything goes wrong.” After a pause, she added, “It- it also means I’m connected to the castle and grounds, though. I don’t think I’ll be able to leave with you anymore.”

Something inside of Harry froze. “But- summers-”

“You are not going back to Petunia,” his mum stated firmly. “Not for winter holidays or summer break. There are places you can stay inside the castle, and I’ll make certain no one’s able to send you away.”

Relieved, Harry sniffed and tucked his head into the crook of her shoulder. His mum hummed and rocked him so more, with the sound and warmth of the flames in the fireplace washing over them both.

The first order of business, once she left Harry’s mind to let him wake up for the day, was inspecting every inch of Hogwarts - both to reacquaint herself with the halls Lily once walked as a student herself, as well as learning all manner of secrets she’d never discovered while alive. Hidden rooms, concealed passages, treasures and dangers in equal measure. Once upon a time, the children who came to learn were actively encouraged to test their mettle against all manner of traps and creatures, as a way of preparing them for the deadly world that lay beyond. With the rise of civilization and the Statue of Secrecy causing few muggles to even believe magic existed anymore, however, Lily thought such an attitude outdated for the modern world.

The castle’s vast spirit rumbled, as if amused by her insistence.

Undeterred, she set about exploring beyond the boundaries of mortar and stone, sweeping through field and forest and lake, identifying all the inhabitants protected under the aegis of Hogwarts. A few noticed her presence, looking about with wary curiosity before she moved on; most remained ignorant of Lily’s insubstantial consciousness flitting past.

From the grates set into the lakebed, she re-entered the lowest levels of the castle, inspecting the full breadth of the sewers before peering more closely at some chambers buried within their labyrinthian layers. One in particular held its own ancient guardian, thankfully sleeping, but she made note of the single entry tunnel and its modified gateway. After briefly asking her host for agreement, Lily carefully drew her own layer of protection across the gate, sealing it so that both her permission and the correct magical gift would be required to open passage.

Relatively young spirits such as Lily were typically confined in what they could see and experience to a singular point, much as they’d been in life. Ancient beings like Hogwarts, however, who held dominion over large areas were not nearly so limited. And with the castle’s strength behind her, Lily was able to both go about her inspections and keep an eye on Harry at the same time. She’d been delighted to see his enthusiasm for learning about magic since Hagrid’s visit, so similar to her own at that age, and hoped her son’s first day of school went well. Of course, she worried over how he would make friends and get along with others, but as she watched his growing confidence in interacting with Ron Weasley and the other Gryffindor boys, the concern eased.

...well. Most of the boys.

“What do you think of Neville, sweetheart?”

“Neville? He’s alright, I guess. Quiet. Er, he keeps getting nervous about all sorts of things, though.”

“I noticed,” Lily hummed. “Do you think you could ask about his parents for me?”

“Sure,” her son agreed easily. “Why?”

She smiled and kissed the top of his head, both of them curled into an armchair sitting before the fireplace. “Because his mother Alice was a very good friend of mine; when you were born, I asked her to be your godmother.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. Something must have happened, though, to keep her and Frank from coming to get you after your father and I died.”

Harry stayed quiet for a long moment, and Lily thought he must’ve been mulling that new information over before asking more. Instead, his next question took her by surprise. “He visits us on Halloween night, doesn’t he? My dad?”

Throat suddenly tight, Lily tightened her arms around Harry. “Yes, love. That’s James. It- it’s always been hard, just being able to see him for a night, but- better than never seeing him at all.”

“Will it be different this year?”

“...I don’t know,” Lily said slowly. “All Hallow’s Eve is the night the veil between life and death is thinnest, and- and also the night we died, which is why I can nudge the curtain aside just enough to let him poke his head through, so to speak. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do more than that now.”

“I hope so,” her son murmured, snuggling closer. “I’d like to be able to hug him too.”

Lily made a point of not interfering during Harry’s days, just watching with a strong sense of contentment as he got to learn and explore. But then, he went to his first Potion’s lesson.

At the first acerbic question from Severus, Lily manifested herself fully in the classroom. Unable to give an answer to the loaded question, her son quietly said he didn’t know, and rather than leave it alone Severus went for another go.

And Lily punched him in the arm.

Her former friend didn’t react beyond going immediately stiff; a miniscule change that his students didn’t notice, but Lily saw quite clearly. Harry again replied that he didn’t know. Severus hesitated, but still went ahead with a third question no first year could possibly answer. (Well, aside from the bushy-haired girl quite determinedly throwing her hand up in the air, but still.)

Lily proceeded to stomp on his right foot, another action borrowed from their early years, when she knew good and well Severus was about to bite someone’s head off when they didn’t deserve it. If she’d still been mostly incorporeal with barely ten years to gather any sort of spiritual energy, the hits might have registered as light taps.

With the power of Hogwarts behind her, she didn’t doubt Severus would be soundly bruised later.

She saw his eyes narrow, glaring straight down at Harry as he offered a third I don’t know, and finally Severus left off. Lily remained, however, and watched a potions lesson that made her want to groan and pull some hair out. For all that her former friend made damn sure no child cut or burned or otherwise hurt themselves (something quite different from Lily’s own first lesson in Professor Slughorn’s classroom), he didn’t actually teach. Instructions to follow, compliments or snide remarks for Slytherins and Gryffindors respectively, but no explanations for why or how the techniques worked.

At the very end of the class, after the last students handed in their bottled efforts and turned to leave, Lily made a point of smacking the back of her old friend’s head.

Immediately, Severus rose to his full height, a quick wand movement ushering out the last child and slamming the doors shut. “What is the meaning of this.”

Unintimidated by his snarl, Lily rifled through his desk for a blank parchment. She heard Severus mutter a spell meant to reveal spirits of ill intent, and she snorted. Unable to cast any magic herself, the best she could do was carefully rip away corners until the sheet resembled the jagged scar on Harry’s forehead.

A glance to the side revealed Severus had turned paler than usual. He cast a spell commonly used to banish poltergeists, and then again, when Lily remained holding the torn parchment over his desk. Annoyed, she slammed it down to lay flat, then seized a bottle of red ink from the neat line next to the quill holder.

Severus flinched when she upended the whole thing, turning both the scar-shaped parchment and a good half the desk dark red. Blood red, in the dim lighting of the dungeon classroom. “Are you trying to give me an omen, or just attempting to get under my skin?” Her old friend asked in a growl. “I’ve sworn to protect the boy, but that hardly means coddling him like everyone else.”

Though the first half of that statement took Lily aback, the second just reignited her ire. With one finger, she used the spilled ink to spell out Petunia on a still-clear section of desk.

The man before her doubled down on his sneer. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you-” Lily interrupted by slapping the soaked parchment, causing a splash and leaving the clear imprint of an adult-sized hand before the ink seeped back.

This time, Severus paused before speaking, his gaze flickering back and forth between Petunia’s name and the stand-in for Harry’s scar. “...that’s where he’d been, all this time? With her?”

Finally.

“How do you know this? Who are you?” Lily poked him in the center of his forehead, three times in quick succession - something she’d often done as a child when she thought her friend was being a particular numpty. Severus turned even paler, if that were possible, before letting out a weak little whisper: “Lily?”

In the end, she needed to activate the Floo connection to another office and shove Severus through it, after he basically shut down. Minerva looked up with a frown from grading her own class assignments, and thankfully a quick look was all that she needed in order to take action. The elder witch swiftly got Severus seated with a warm cup of tea, settling on a second chair close enough to keep one hand on his arm and pulse point. “What in Merlin’s name has gotten into you, lad?”

Lily stood back and let her old friend painstakingly walk through his explanation of events down in the potions classroom, Severus considering each sentence before saying it. Minerva at least had enough patience to wait him out before she began asking sharp questions. By the end of it, the tea had gone cold, while Minerva wore a considering expression. She glanced across her office, eyes passing right over Lily’s insubstantial form, humming curiously. Then, the grey-haired woman shifted to her Animagus form.

When the tabby cat hopped to the floor and trotted more or less in her direction, Lily knelt and reached out to run a hand along Minerva’s back and tail.

The very first time she’d tried to visit Severus in the dungeons only to be nastily told off by an older Slytherin outside their common room, eleven year old Lily had wandered the unused corridors of the castle for ages, fresh tears slipping out every so often. Until, that was, a cat with odd markings reminiscent of spectacles around its eyes appeared out of nowhere, and let Lily hold and pet its soft fur until all her crying came to a close.

Kneeling in Minerva’s office as a spirit, Lily scooped the Animagus up and held her in exactly the same manner. Severus made an indecipherable noise as he saw the cat hovering midair, which Lily couldn’t help but snicker at. After a few moments, she set Minerva back down, so the Animagus could retreat to her chair and transform back.

“Well,” the elder witch said after a long pause, “Whatever this is, it’s definitely Lily.”

As if there were ever any doubt.

After dinner that evening, Harry answered Minerva’s summons to his office, trailed by Ron who lingered in the hallway even after the door closed. Lily’s son paused with a wary look on his face when he spotted Severus, lurking in a corner, but still followed Minerva’s order to sit.

Lily promptly moved to stand at his side, and curled her fingers around his own. Harry gained a small smile and squeezed back.

Both professors noticed.

“Now, Mister Potter, I want to start off by insisting you aren’t in any trouble - Professor Snape, in fact, wishes to apologize for his inappropriate behavior during your Potions lesson this afternoon.”

Harry blinked, clearly startled as he turned to stare at Severus. “Oh. Um, thanks?”

The man merely grunted, brows furrowed as he and Minerva exchanged glares. She smoothed her expression back into something softer by the time Harry looked back again. “To get to the point, Mister Potter, we have a few questions about a spirit that may or may not be haunting you.”

Another blink from her boy. “You mean my mum?”

“...yes,” Minerva said faintly. “Lily. How did you...?”

“She’s always been around,” Harry said with a small shrug. “In my dreams, at least. But since we came to Hogwarts she’s gotten a lot stronger - we can actually talk at night, now, and she’s even around when I’m awake, too.” He squeezed her hand again, and Lily let herself bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Minerva coughed. “Well. Well, in that case-”

“Does your aunt know about her?” Severus interrupted from his corner.

“Um, no? At least- I think I tried to ask her about the dreams, once, but- she didn’t like it. She didn’t want to hear about any of the freakish things wrong with me.”

Lily remembered that. Remembered her little boy trying to ask Petunia about the ‘fire lady’ who cuddled him every night, only for his aunt to screech and slap him and insist he never mention anything of the sort again.

(If she’d been able to in that moment, Lily would have dropped a refrigerator on top of her sister.)

Severus and Minerva exchanged another inscrutable look, before the latter cleared her throat. “Well then, Mister Potter - has your mother indicated at all what she plans to do while you both are here at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah!” Harry brightened up considerably. “Our first night here, she said she’s going to do a better job of looking out for me, and she promised I don’t ever have to go back to the Dursleys ever again!”

“...in that case,” Minerva said slowly, “Please ask her to let us know if she requires any assistance.”

Lily grinned.