The Revenant, Chapter 1

by Geri ([email protected])

My homepage: http://www.geocities.com/geri_chans_fics/index.html

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Snape/Lupin

Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts

Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for Hob, who belongs to William Mayne, and Death, who belongs to Neil Gaiman; no money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.

Warning: AU; events that occurred at the end of Order of the Phoenix were significantly altered from the book.

Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising, and Aftermaths.

Summary: James Potter dies, but refuses to move on, much to DeathÕs chagrin. This is not exactly a crossover; although Death from Neil GaimanÕs Sandman series does appear, this doesnÕt really have anything else to do with the Sandman stories. I just needed a personification of death, and Death immediately came to mind. I really love the idea of Death being a cute, perky goth girl. For people who want to read more about Death, I recommend ÒDeath: the High Cost of LivingÓ.
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Chapter 1: James Meets the Not-So-Grim Reaper

James Potter chafed at life in Godric's Hollow. It was not so much the slow pace of life in the quiet little village, although he was a man who preferred action and adventure, and it wasn't having to pretend that he was a Muggle. No, it was that he hated sitting at home doing nothing while the other members of the Order of the Phoenix were out risking their lives, his best friends among them. But he and Lily and Harry were the last living Potters; the Death Eaters had slaughtered the rest of his family--parents, cousins, aunts and uncles--specifically on Voldemort's orders, according to Dumbledore. James didn't understand why Voldemort was so determined to wipe out the Potters. Dumbledore had told him about the Prophecy when he had sent them into hiding, but the killings had begun before Lily was even pregnant. Of course anyone who openly opposed Voldemort automatically became a target, but he seemed to hold a special grudge against the Potters, for some reason.

"Damn it!" James said, pounding his fist against the wall. "I feel like a coward, sitting here safe and sound while my friends and comrades are out there getting killed!"

"Shh, James," Lily said in a soothing voice, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. "I just put Harry to bed; don't wake him. And you aren't a coward, love. You have the most important task in the world: guarding our son and keeping him safe."

"You're right, Lily," James said, forcing himself to smile at her. She was right; it was important to protect his son, not just because James loved him more than anything in the world except Lily, but because if the Prophecy was right, he would be the one to defeat Voldemort. But rather than reassuring James, that thought made him feel even more frustrated and restless than before. Because surely there was no way that a child would be able to defeat the Dark Lord, which meant that they could be stuck here for another eighteen years or more, waiting for Harry to grow into his power--assuming that there was even anything left of the wizarding world for them to save by then. But to complain about a situation he couldn't change was pointless, and would only make Lily feel sad--or irritated at him for wallowing in self-pity, depending on her mood. He knew that this wasn't easy on her, either.

So he smiled and kissed her, and then he really did feel a little better. This exile and captivity would be unbearable without her. And then he heard a voice chanting a spell, and a loud crash at the front door, which shuddered on its hinges and seemed to buckle inwards slightly, as if being struck by a battering ram. James turned pale and swore under his breath, cursing himself for his earlier complaints. There was an old saying that you should be careful about what you wish for because you just might get it. He suddenly mourned all those long, safe, boring years in exile that he and his family would likely never live to see. He knew that he would die tonight; he and Lily combined were not strong enough to defeat Voldemort, but maybe, just maybe, he could hold the Dark Lord off long enough for Lily and Harry to escape.

He pulled out his wand and shouted, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off--"

To his great relief, Lily did not argue, but ran straight for Harry's room. If they had been alone, she would never have let him sacrifice himself for her, and would have insisted on fighting by his side, but for Harry's sake, she would flee, and James silently thanked Merlin for that.

They had placed warding spells on the cottage, of course, but James knew that they wouldn't hold for long, not against the Dark Lord's power. Their true protection had been the Fidelius Charm, and James was struck by a feeling of horror and anger as he realized that Peter must have betrayed them.

"How could you do it, Peter?" James whispered. Hadn't they been best friends at Hogwarts? Hadn't he and Sirius saved Peter from a couple of Slytherin bullies on their very first train ride to Hogwarts? How could he betray them this way? But even as he asked himself these questions, James thought he knew the answer. He didn't think that Peter would willingly go over to Voldemort, but he had never been very strong or brave; the Death Eaters must have tortured the information out of him. Sirius had not been so clever after all in having them switch Secret-Keepers. James had had his doubts at first, but Sirius swore that no one would suspect Peter, and Peter had seemed so proud to be gifted with the responsibility. And James had respected Peter for joining the Order. He had been a little surprised at first that his timid friend would willingly take on such a dangerous job, but Peter had insisted, "You and Sirius and Remus are joining; do you think that I'm such a coward that I would do any less? I know that I'm not as strong or clever or good at magic as the rest of you, but still--I'll do what I can to protect the wizarding world." James had been impressed with his bravery then; Peter had sounded like a true Gryffindor. But clearly, his resolve had not been strong enough to withstand whatever torture the Death Eaters had subjected him to.

Through his anger, James felt a brief flicker of pity for his friend, but then he had no more time to worry about anyone but himself, because the door exploded into a shower of splinters, and Voldemort strode into the room, cackling madly in a high-pitched voice.

James immediately began hurling spells at Voldemort--stunning spells, attack spells, binding spells--anything he could think of that would slow the Dark Lord down just a little longer, to buy a few more precious minutes for Lily and Harry.

But to his dismay, Voldemort easily deflected them, the way one might swat at an annoying bug--as if the spells were a mere nuisance rather than a threat. The Dark Lord had gotten stronger since their last encounter--and even then, James and Lily had barely escaped with their lives.

"I have no time for this!" Voldemort shouted impatiently, and hurled a hex at James that tore through the shield spell he had conjured up and sent him flying across the room; he hit the wall with a bone-jarring crash. He groaned in pain and his wand slipped out of his hand as bits of paint and plaster fell onto his head and shoulders. He slowly slid down to the floor knowing that he had probably left a man-sized impression embedded in the wall, like one of those Muggle cartoons that he had watched on the television with Lily, that were horribly violent yet so ridiculously silly that you couldn't help but laugh at them. But there was nothing funny at all about this moment.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort shouted, and a jet of green light rushing towards him was the last thing James saw before everything went black...
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"Take my hand, James," said a soft female voice.

James blinked and looked up. A girl with white skin and shoulder-length black hair was standing over him. She was wearing a black tank top and jeans, and a silver ankh around her neck. Her eyes were heavily outlined with kohl, with a curling black spiral extending below her right eye. It was the Eye of Horus, a protective magical symbol, James realized with a start, with her own eye incorporated into the design. With a surge of hope, James realized that she must be backup from the Order. Dumbledore must have sent her; he had learned of the attack somehow. James didn't recognize her, but he didn't know all of Dumbledore's agents, and surely no Death Eater could have such a kind and gentle face as this girl did. Besides, there was no way that a Death Eater would be caught dead wearing Muggle clothes. But she looked terribly young--perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Had things gotten so bad that the Order was resorting to recruiting children?

"I'm fine," James said, jumping to his feet and brushing off the offer of her hand. Funny...he could have sworn that he'd broken bones when he'd hit the wall, but he felt no pain now. He must have been only briefly stunned. "We've got to hurry!" he said urgently. "Voldemort has gone after Harry, and Lily won't be able to hold him off for long!"

The girl smiled at him sadly and repeated, "Take my hand, James."

"I told you, I'm fine!" James snapped. Why the hell was she offering him a hand up when he was already on his feet?

"You are not fine, James," the girl said softly. "Look down."

James looked down to see his own body lying at his feet. "Oh my God," he whispered, turning pale.

"Take my hand, James," the girl said again, and this time James looked into her eyes and saw that although her face was young, her dark eyes seemed to contain infinite wisdom and sorrow and compassion. They were not the eyes of a teenage girl, but the eyes of an ancient being--not merely someone old and wise like Dumbledore, but a goddess or immortal spirit.

"You...are Death," James whispered.

"I am," Death said with a smile.

"Funny," James said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "I would have expected you to be male--you know, Grim Reaper with a scythe and all that."

Death grinned mischievously, and she looked like a teenage girl again; she could almost have been a Gryffindor student at Hogwarts. "That's because the people who created those tales were a bit sexist. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Uh...not disappointed, just surprised," James said, feeling dazed; he couldn't believe that he was standing around chatting pleasantly with Death! It all seemed like some sort of bizarre dream, perhaps brought on by too much Firewhiskey.

"Take my hand, James," Death said, holding out her hand towards him.

And then James knew, no matter how much he might have wished otherwise, that this was no dream. "I can't die!" he said desperately. "Not yet! My wife and son--"

"Are beyond your help," Death said, quietly but firmly, smiling at him sadly once again. "And you are already dead. Take my hand, James."

"Please," James begged, "I'm not afraid to die, but can't you give me just a little more time? Enough to save my wife and son?"

"I do not bargain," Death said. "I do not choose who lives and who dies. I merely conduct each dead soul to what lies beyond the world of the living. Death comes to each man and woman when it is time, whether they are ready or not. Take my hand, James."

"Lily!" James shouted frantically, ignoring her outstretched hand. "Harry!" He ran past Death and sprinted up the stairs.

Death followed after him, cursing under her breath, "Bloody pain-in-the-arse wizards! Can't they ever come along quietly without an argument?"

Lily was in the nursery, standing in front of the crib, arms outstretched, barring Voldemort's way and shielding Harry with her own body. There was broken furniture scattered all over the room, and Lily's wand lay on the floor in pieces, but both she and Harry appeared to be unharmed.

"Not Harry!" Lily pleaded desperately. "Not Harry! Please--I'll do anything--"

"Stand aside," Voldemort said impatiently. "Stand aside, girl!"

"Please!" Lily screamed. "Take my life, but don't hurt Harry! He's only a baby; what threat could he possibly be to you?"

"It is not what he is now that I fear," Voldemort said, "but what he will be when he grows up. He is already dead, girl. But if you hand him over to me now, I will spare your life."

"Never!" Lily shouted.

"Then so be it," Voldemort said grimly and raised his wand.

"NO!" screamed James and ran forward to grab Voldemort's arm, to try and wrestle the wand out of his grasp, but his hands slipped through the other wizard as if he wasn't there. And neither Voldemort nor Lily appeared to be aware of his presence.

"I told you, James, you are already dead!" Death said, a bit peevishly, then seeing the stricken look on his face, said in a more gentle and compassionate voice, "The dead cannot affect the world of the living."

James looked down at his hands, which were beginning to turn transparent. It was not Voldemort who was insubstantial, but himself.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort shouted, as James screamed, "NOOOOO!!!"

Lily fell to the floor, and then a second Lily arose from the body, looking around in confusion.

"Take my hand, Lily," Death said, although from the resigned tone of her voice, it didn't seem like she expected that command to be obeyed.

"Who are you?" Lily asked, still looking confused, then she spotted her husband. "James! We have to help Harry!"

But Voldemort was already pointing his wand at Harry and shouting, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" His crimson eyes were gleaming with triumph and wicked glee. But when the spell struck Harry, it seemed to rebound back towards Voldemort, who stared in disbelief and horror. The green light of the curse seemed to magnify and expand, until the entire room was flooded with green light, and then there was an explosion and the house fell to pieces around them as Voldemort wailed in fear and pain and rage.

James and Lily found themselves clinging to each other standing on top of the heap of rubble when the explosion was over. Death stood calmly a few feet away from them.

"Harry!" Lily shouted, but then the sound of a baby crying emerged from beneath the rubble, and Lily wept in relief. She knelt down to try and dig him out of the wreckage, but her hands slipped right through it, as James's hands had slipped through Voldemort.

"You are no longer of this world, Lily," Death said kindly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But do not fear; your love protected your son, and I shall not come for him this day."

Lily looked up, and her green eyes widened in comprehension, as she recognized--much more quickly than James had--exactly who Death was. "Then Harry is safe?" she whispered.

"For now," Death said.

"And Voldemort?" James asked sharply. "Is he dead? I don't see you asking for his hand!"

Death looked annoyed. "His body is dead, but he has found a way to keep his spirit alive and evade my grasp. I will not come for him this day, either."

"Please?" Lily begged. "Before we go, can you at least tell us, will our son survive and defeat the Dark Lord as the Prophecy said?"

Death smiled at her gently. "Seeing the future is the domain of my older brother, not mine, I'm afraid. But I can say that I shall not come for him anytime soon, I think."

"Thank you," Lily whispered, and Death regarded her with a compassionate look.

"It's bending the rules a bit, but I suppose we can wait till young Harry is rescued before I take you on to the afterlife."

"Oh, thank you!" Lily said, smiling at Death gratefully as tears spilled out of her eyes.

"You have a very nice wife," Death told James approvingly. "Much more polite than you are." James managed a weak chuckle, and he put his arm around Lily, and was relieved to find that she felt substantial to him, at least. They held each other while they waited, for what seemed like hours, until Hagrid came along and pulled Harry out of the ruins of the cottage. The baby seemed unharmed except for a jagged scar on his forehead.

"Poor little feller," Hagrid wept, gently cradling the baby in his huge arms. "Poor James and Lily!"

"Hagrid, we're right here!" James shouted, waving his arms at his friend, but Hagrid ignored him.

"He cannot see or hear you, James," Death said, somewhat unnecessarily. James knew that she was right, but somehow he couldn't stop himself from trying.

They heard the roar of a motor in the sky, and Sirius descended, landing his motorcycle on the ground. "Harry!" Sirius cried, his face pale. "Is he all right?"

"'He seems ter be fine," Hagrid replied. "'Cept fer this little scratch."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Sirius sighed. "And James and Lily?" Hagrid just shook his head, tears running down his face, and Sirius wept as well. But then he quickly brushed the tears from his eyes and held out his arms, saying, "I'll take him home, Hagrid."

Hagrid shook his head. "Dumbledore said ter bring Harry straight ter him."

"But I'm Harry's godfather," Sirius said. "I'm supposed to look after him if..." His voice cracked. "If anything happens to James and Lily."

Hagrid looked sympathetic, but did not hand over the baby. "I'm just followin' orders, Sirius," he said firmly. "Dumbledore said bring Harry ter him, an' tha's what I'm goin' ter do."

Sirius nodded reluctantly. "Then take my motorcycle, Hagrid; it will be quicker than flying by broomstick. I suppose Harry will be safest with Dumbledore for now. Get him to safety as quickly as you can."

"Thanks, Sirius," Hagrid said, and flew off with Harry. Sirius remained a couple minutes longer, weeping in front of the ruined cottage, while James tried futilely to get his attention. Finally he wiped his eyes and picked up Hagrid's broomstick.

"Goodbye, Prongs and Lily," he whispered.

Lily brushed a ghostly kiss across his cheek. "Goodbye, Sirius. Watch over Harry for us." Sirius showed no sign of noticing either the kiss or her words, and mounted the broomstick and flew off.

"Take my hand, James and Lily," Death said quietly, holding out her hands. Lily reached out and took one of her hands, but James shook his head stubbornly. Death sighed irritably. "I swear, you wizards are such a pain in the arse. Will you choose to become a ghost, then, James, and live out eternity neither dead nor alive?"

"No!" Lily cried in horror. "James, you can't become a ghost--that's a fate worse than death! Please, I don't want to leave Harry, either, but we are dead. We cannot protect him any longer. We'll have to trust to Sirius and Remus and our other friends to look after Harry. You know that they'll protect him with their lives, if necessary, as we did. And they'll love him just as much as we would."

"I don't want to become a ghost," James said. "But I'm not ready to leave yet, either. I want to watch over my son until I'm sure that he'll be safe."

"But Sirius--"

"I know that Sirius would give his life to protect Harry," James said grimly, "but that might not be enough. What if Voldemort and the Death Eaters kill him too, and leave Harry without a protector?"

"But surely Dumbledore--"

"I love and respect the old man, but Dumbledore is not infallible!" James snapped. "It was his idea for us to go into hiding, and that did not protect us!"

"Death said that she would not come for him yet," Lily said softly. "We'll have to trust that Harry will grow up and fulfill the Prophecy." She smiled, tears running down her face. "And that Death will not bring him to meet us until he is a very old man, having lived a very happy and full life."

"I can make no promises," Death said quietly, smiling back at Lily. "But I would like that, too."

"That's not good enough," James said, his voice hard and cold with resolve. "I will watch over my son until Voldemort is dead and Harry is safe."

"Watching is all you will be able to do," Death cautioned. "As I keep telling you, the dead cannot affect the world of the living, not unless you choose to become a ghost and become forever bound to the earth, giving up your chance to pass on to the next life. And if you do that, you will never see Lily again."

"James!" Lily pleaded desperately, still weeping. "Come with me, please!"

"Those are your choices," Death said. "To become a ghost, to pass from this world and into the next, or to exist in limbo as a passive observer until you can up make up your mind."

"Then I will wait, and remain in limbo," James said. "I'm sorry, Lily, but I can't be with you until I'm sure that Harry is safe."

"Why do you always have to be so pigheaded, James Potter?" Lily demanded, glaring at him.

James smiled. "I know that I'm a stubborn bastard, but that's why you love me."

Lily laughed and wept at the same time, and Death tugged gently on her hand and said, "It is time, Lily."

A doorway suddenly seemed to open up before them, filled with a warm, golden light. "I'll wait for you, James," Lily called, turning back one last time to look at him before following Death into the light. "I'll wait!"

The light looked so warm and welcoming, like the sunrise on a fine summer day, that for a moment, James was tempted to follow them. It was as if he could feel Lily and all his other lost loved ones beckoning to him, calling for him to join them. He took one step forward, then thought of Harry, and forced himself to remain where he was standing, and the door closed up behind Lily and Death.

He stood beside his ruined home, uncertain of what to do next. He said that he would watch over Harry, but how was he supposed to accomplish that? Hagrid said that he was taking Harry to Dumbledore, which presumably meant Hogwarts. But James couldn't walk all the way to Hogwarts, and even if he could find a broomstick in this Muggle village, he wouldn't be able to ride it, since he couldn't touch anything in the world of the living. He wondered if it was possible for him to fly, the way ghosts could. He wasn't precisely a ghost, but he wasn't exactly alive, either.

But then Death suddenly reappeared out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. "Hey!" James protested. "I told you, I'm not going with you yet!"

"I can't force a wizard to cross the threshold of life and death against his will, the way I can a normal human," Death said crossly. "I'm just taking you to a waiting place, where you will remain until you make your final choice. Don't worry, you'll be able to watch Harry from there, for all the good it will do--there is nothing you can do to help him, even if he is attacked again. You do not belong here, James. You belong with Lily, who is waiting for you." James shook his head stubbornly, and Death sighed, "Well, I tried." And then another doorway opened, although this one did not seem nearly so welcoming, and Death pulled him through it.

(To be continued...)

Chapter 2

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