Watching From Above {A Harry Potter Fanfic}

Chapter 1: Alive

Lily's P.O.V.

I open my bright, alert eyes and am quickly greeted by a sight both terrifying and relaxing the same: nothing. Everywhere I look is as white as a blank canvas. It almost came as a relief, seeing as my body was covered in beads of sweat, and the last thing I can remember is being scared stiff to the bone and a flash of green light.

In an effort to get up, I lift my head and see a body lying to my left, sprawled across the ground at an awkward angle. His hair is as black as the night, and stuck to his forehead, making an odd pattern.

He groans. His eyes lock onto mine and have the same petrified look, but then it softens into a gaze of recognition.

"Lily-Flower?"

Lily-Flower? What kind of name is that? It must be mine, if this man is so sure of it, but the only real name I can think of from that is Lily. But who would take such a pretty name like that and turn it into-Oh. Of course. He must be James.

I spring into his warm, familiar embrace, but something seems to be missing. James seems to see this, too, and soon a surge of alarm washes over me.

"Harry," I manage to utter. His arm around my waist stiffens, and he's soon on his feet, his face pale.

He looks at me solemnly. "Harry," he says, almost emotionlessly.

I feel hot tears prick my eyes, threatening to spill. Blinking furiously to get rid of them, I get up, too.

"He was so young. Too young," I say, back in James' arms.

"I hate to break it to you, Lils," he whispers in my ear, "but we were pretty young, too."

I scowl. "It's not the same. He had his whole life left."

"Lily?" He looks at me with his usual curious expression, "why isn't Harry with us right now? He was killed, unless there's some stupid law that forbids us to see our child ever again, because in that case, I don't care how wrong it would be, I may have to hex a few angels."

I had stopped listening to my husband ramble on, for his question still lingered in my thoughts. Why isn't Harry here?

For the first time since I had awakened, I looked at my surroundings. Though my vision was still blurry with tears, I could quite clearly see a house, our house, in ruins.

Letting go of James, I stumble towards the picture, not sure if it's real. I reach up to touch it, but the image ripples like water, and my hand feels nothing but the air.

"Is that...?" James starts, walking up behind me.

"Must be," I reply, "but who are those people?"

A giant of a man with a long, wild beard is talking to another man, though he's quite shorter, who's leaning on a motorbike.

James' eyes grow huge, "Padfoot and Hagrid," he says, his voice cracking, thick with grief and loss.

Sirius then nods sadly, and motions to his bike, telling Hagrid to take it.

"That's not like him," James remarks. "He loves that thing!"

"What's that Hagrid is carrying?" I question.

The Gamekeeper cradles an array of blankets as he climbs onto the motorbike, and begins to fly away. The image, instead of following Hagrid, wavers slightly, then cuts to an old muggle street, where Sirius had cornered Wormtail.

I feel the blood drain from my face, and anger quickly replaces it.

"That traitor! That git! We trusted him! He was our friend!" James screams to no one. "Kill him, Sirius. Kill him!"

"Lily and James, Sirius?" I hear Peter say from the shimmering picture. He then shoots the street of muggles, chops off his finger, turns into his animagus form, and scampers away from the scene. Sirius just stands there, laughing like a mad man.

"No, no, no!" James continues to yell. "Padfoot, you bloody idiot! Everyone'll think it was you! How could you be so stupid?"

"James, you would do the same thing if your best friend had just been murdered!"

"Ya, but I wouldn't have just stood there like that idiot!"

"Please. James, you and Sirius practically share the same brain! You'd probably screw it up in a dumb way, too!"

That shut him up.

The image changes again.

There, standing on yet another little muggle street, though this one is a lot cleaner, is none other than our old Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He's unsticking two small, yellow coloured candies, while a woman, who, because of her tight bun and stern expression, I recognize immediately as McGonagall, is trying to discuss something.

"Minnie doesn't look different at all!" James gapes. "I guess not even the death of her favourite student can change her preference on hairstyles."

"Oh, would you be quite! You were definitely not her favourite student, and the reason why is because you keep calling her Minnie! No one else called he-" I'm stopped short by my old Transfiguration teacher saying a name. A name I was dying, literally, to hear news about. She said Harry.

"I beg to differ. She practically worshipped me!"

I swat at my cocky husband. "Shh! Listen you great prat!"

He shut up in time for us to hear the last bit of McGonagall's sentence.

"- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone."

James and I stare at each other, either in shock or disbelief, I'm not sure.

"Harry... he's alive?" I stutter.

"Not only alive, he defeated the bloody Dark Lord! Merlin's balls... probably got it from me, no offence, Lils."

He flinches like he's expecting me to punch him, but I don't bother. I'm still goggling over the fact that my baby survived.

Questions tumble out of my mouth like a dam breaking. "What will they do with him? Who'll raise him?"

"Sirius, obviousl- oh. Right. Azkaban probably isn't the best place to raise a child. Um, Moony, then, I suppose."

"Wait. James, why are they on my sister's street?"

"You don't think...?"

"No. They can't be that thick. Can they?"

"I dunno, Lils, maybe they think it'll be best for him. It's not like Dumbledore has ever met them."

It seems like McGonagall heard them, for she asked Albus what we'd both been wondering.

"And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to take Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"No," I barely managed to whisper. That is, until my anger got the better of me.

"NO! That daft old man! He can't mean it! What is he thinking? Leave my baby with my sister, indeed! She can't stand me! Doesn't he know how they'll treat him? What's wrong with leaving him with Remus?!"

At the same time, James is continually swearing at the image of Dumbledore.

"YOU SON OF A-"

I throw my arms around his neck, cutting him off, and burry my face in his chest, crying my eyes out.

"My baby..." I sniff.

"I know, Lily, I know," he rests his chin on the top of my head.

We stay like that for a while, comforting each other, not knowing what the future will hold for our Harry- The Boy Who Lived.

Good luck, my darling. We're with you.