The Son of Mischief and Moonlight

A few nights later, the house finally settled into a quiet hum, the kind that felt almost too peaceful for two new parents. James and Lily were left alone with their newborn son, Harry, after the chaotic post-baby celebrations. James had practically had to wrestle Sirius out of the room, his best friend stubbornly refusing to leave his godson's side.

"Come on, Padfoot! He'll be fine! Just a few hours of peace!" James exclaimed, shoving Sirius out the door.

"But he's my godson! What if he needs me?!" Sirius shot back, looking like he was about to launch into a dramatic speech.

"Trust me, he's asleep, and if he wakes up, I'll call you, I promise! Now go!" James said, giving one last push as Sirius finally relented, dramatically flinging himself out the door.

With the door closed and the house quiet, James and Lily exchanged glances, each grappling with the weight of their secrets. It was like an invisible game of chicken, and neither wanted to flinch first.

"Lily, I—" James started, his voice trailing off, unsure of how to begin.

"James, I really need to tell you something," Lily interjected, her voice steady, though she was clearly nervous. "But first…"

They both took a deep breath, a silent agreement passing between them. "We should swear," James said. "Just to make sure."

"Right, together then," Lily nodded, determination lighting up her eyes.

They raised their wands, a slight tremor of magic sparking in the air. "On three?" Lily suggested.

"One… two… three!" they said in unison, the magical energy swirling around them like it was trying to eavesdrop.

"By the magic that flows through me, I swear that what I am about to say is the truth," they declared, the words ringing with the kind of intensity that could only come from serious revelations.

Lily took a deep breath, the kind that might have been more dramatic if this were a movie. "James, there's something you need to know. I wasn't always Lily Evans. I was Artemis, the goddess of the hunt. Zeus punished me for… well, let's say my aggressive tendencies with male demigods. He turned me human and sealed away my memories until Harry was born. So, Harry is a demigod."

James blinked, momentarily processing the information. "Wait, a demigod? Like, a real one? That's incredible!" His enthusiasm was palpable, though a part of him was still stuck on the "goddess" part.

"Exactly! He has divine blood!" Lily said, her excitement contagious.

James chuckled, shaking his head. "But, you know, technically, you need at least one mortal parent for the child to be considered a demigod."

Lily frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

James swallowed hard, feeling like he was about to reveal the most embarrassing secret in the universe. "Well, here's the thing. I'm Loki, the god of mischief. I snuck away from Asgard after lying to my mother, Frigga, about going to Vanaheim. I wanted to escape the constant comparisons to Thor and experience a normal life. I sealed away my memories until I had a child with someone I truly loved."

Lily stared at him, her mouth slightly agape as she processed this bombshell. "You're Loki? The Loki?"

"Yup, that's me," he said, trying to sound nonchalant while inside he felt like a firework about to explode.

They fell into a stunned silence, the reality of their revelations sinking in like a stone in water. Not just ordinary parents—oh no—they were divine beings tangled in a fate more chaotic than either could have imagined.

As they looked at each other, the enormity of it all felt both terrifying and exhilarating. They weren't just starting a family; they were embracing a legacy, one filled with gods, myths, and all the unpredictable fun that came with it. And honestly, it was going to be one wild ride.

—

As the quiet settled around them, Lily took a deep breath, trying to wrap her head around the cosmic mess they'd just unveiled. She glanced at Harry, who was blissfully asleep in his crib, blissfully unaware that his parents were practically gods—just like something out of a mythology textbook.

"Okay, let's unpack this," she said, half-smirking. "So you're Loki, the god of mischief, and I'm Artemis, the goddess of hunting, except we're stuck in a human body. And our son? He might have a divine pedigree?"

James rubbed the back of his neck, a goofy smile creeping onto his face. "Right? You know, the Marauders had a shrine to me in our Hogwarts dorm. Can you believe it? I pranked myself before I even knew who I really was!"

Lily couldn't help but laugh. "That's honestly the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You created a shrine to a god of mischief and now you're living it! If only you and the others knew that you were praying to yourself without even knowing it."

"Right? Can you imagine their faces? 'Oh hey, remember that time we asked Loki for a prank to go off? Surprise, I'm your best mate!'" James chuckled, but the humor faded as the weight of their situation settled in. "But seriously, it makes me think about the kind of legacy we're leaving for Harry."

Lily nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. "We have to make sure he understands who he is without all the divine drama. Being the son of a trickster god and a huntress goddess has its challenges."

James leaned closer, his gaze turning serious. "And we need to protect him from anyone who might want to exploit that. I don't want him feeling the pressure of being the 'child of the gods.'"

"Right," Lily agreed. "We need to raise him as a normal boy—whatever that means for us! But honestly, I'm still wrapping my head around all this. What if he starts pulling tricks like you?"

James raised an eyebrow. "Oh, he will. Have you seen his face? That's the face of a future prankster!"

Lily laughed again, shaking her head. "Just remember, we can't let him turn into a mini-Loki. I don't think our hearts can handle two of you."

"Fair point," James said, grinning. "But let's be real: it's going to be epic. 'My mom and dad were both gods.' Talk about a family legend."

"Assuming we don't get into trouble first," Lily replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Maybe we should write a handbook for parenting divine children?"

James nodded thoughtfully. "Step one: Don't make a shrine to yourself. Step two: Always expect the unexpected. And step three…" He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "never let Sirius babysit."

They both erupted into laughter, the tension of their revelations lifting like a summer storm. In that moment, they felt a little lighter, united in their chaotic journey ahead. Whatever challenges lay before them, they would face them together—one prank and one heartfelt conversation at a time.

—

Over the next few months, Lily and James began to notice something... odd. Well, odder than usual. Harry's accidental magic had always been a bit unpredictable—one minute, he'd be levitating his toys, and the next, he'd be turning his food into bubbles. Classic baby magic stuff, right?

But lately, things seemed to follow a pattern. A lunar pattern, to be precise.

It all started during a full moon, when Lily was up late, feeding Harry. The moonlight flooded through the window, and suddenly, all the baby bottles on the counter started dancing. Yes, dancing. They did a little jig right across the kitchen counter, like they were auditioning for a baby version of Dancing with the Stars.

She figured it was just one of those parenting quirks—like finding toy broomsticks zooming around the house. But then, every full moon, something similar would happen. Harry's magic would go haywire—books flying off the shelves, his toys practically forming a conga line, and Lily's favorite teapot transforming into a rather judgmental-looking owl.

When Lily mentioned it to James, he raised an eyebrow. "You think it's the moon? You sure he's not just showing off?"

Lily wasn't convinced. "You're off with Sirius, Remus, and Peter every full moon—so you haven't exactly been here for Harry's magic marathons. I swear, his powers go up like a firework during full moons. Then, by the new moon, everything's back to normal."

James scratched his head. "Well, Artemis—goddess of the moon and all that. Maybe Harry's magic is... what's the word?"

"Lunar synchronous," Lily said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

James blinked. "That sounds fancy."

"I mean, think about it," Lily continued. "My powers were always tied to the moon. It makes sense that Harry's magic might follow the same rhythm. Strongest at the full moon, weakest at the new moon."

James looked over at Harry, who was currently gnawing on a stuffed stag. "So, what you're saying is, our son's magic gets a full-on power boost whenever the moon's at its brightest?"

Lily nodded, amused at the growing look of concern on James' face.

"Great," he muttered. "Because I wasn't already worrying about a regular magical baby. Now we've got a baby were-magician."

Lily couldn't help but laugh. "He's not a werewolf, James. Just a very moody little wizard with a lunar boost."

"And you're sure Remus didn't bite him or something?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Remus wouldn't hurt a fly."

James opened his mouth to respond, but they were interrupted by a sudden, loud thud from the front door, followed by a very familiar voice.

"YOU LEFT HIM ALONE WITH JAMES AGAIN?"

Sirius Black burst through the door, his hair wild and eyes wide with panic. "I told you, he needs constant supervision! Where's my godson?"

James grinned. "He's literally right here, Padfoot. Relax. The moon's not even full yet."

But Sirius wasn't listening. He rushed over to Harry, scooping him up with the fervor of a mother hen. "No full moons, no moons at all—I don't care! This kid is going to be raised in a bubble if it's the last thing I do."

Lily chuckled, watching Sirius dote over Harry like he was the world's most precious treasure. Sirius had always been protective of Harry, but since the whole lunar-synchronized magic discovery, he'd gone into full-on godfather overdrive.

"I swear, Sirius," Lily teased, "you're worse than any of us. You can't bubble-wrap a wizard."

"Watch me," Sirius shot back, swaying Harry back and forth. "I'll charm up a bubble so strong, even you won't be able to pop it."

James snorted. "Because that worked so well with Remus back in sixth year, right? Remember when you tried to 'bubble-wrap' him for full moons? That bubble lasted about two minutes before Moony tore through it like parchment."

"That was different," Sirius argued, still not taking his eyes off Harry. "Remus is a werewolf. Harry's a baby. And I'm not taking any chances."

Lily, arms crossed, smiled warmly at the sight. "Harry's magic is strong, but he's not going to explode, Sirius. Besides, we've got a pretty solid team here."

Sirius finally looked up, his face softening. "Yeah, but Harry's... special."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "More special than we realized, it seems."

"Yeah," James added, nudging Sirius. "And since you basically worshipped me for three years in Hogwarts without knowing it, you owe me a favor."

Sirius paused. "Wait, what?"

"Oh yeah," James grinned. "Remember that shrine that we built for Loki? Surprise! You were building it for me. I was Loki all along."

Sirius' mouth dropped open in shock. "No way. No bloody way."

James, with a mischievous glint in his eye, pulled out his wand. "You don't believe me, Padfoot? Fine, I swear on my magic." He held his wand firmly, pointing it upward in a dramatic fashion. "I, James Potter, swear on my magic that I am, in fact, Loki, the very god you and the Marauders built a shrine to."

A faint glow shimmered around him, sealing the magical oath.

Lily burst out laughing. "Oh, it's true! Your pranking god was right there with you the entire time."

Sirius blinked, stunned. "You've got to be kidding me..."

"Nope," James smirked. "You spent all those years praying to me." He leaned in, clearly enjoying every second. "And you lot never caught on."

Sirius, looking completely flabbergasted, stared at James for a beat longer before throwing his head back in laughter. "Of course! Of course you were Loki! This explains so much! You literally pranked yourself!"

James nodded, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Best prank of all, wasn't it?"

Sirius shook his head, still laughing. "Unbelievable. The one time we tried to be serious about something..." He looked down at Harry, then back at James. "Well, you and Harry sure come from interesting stock."

"Interesting? Mate, we're legendary." James puffed his chest out in mock arrogance, causing Lily to roll her eyes and nudge him playfully.

—

As Sirius finally settled down, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he leaned back into the couch. "Alright, alright. So, James is Loki. Got it. What's next? You're gonna tell me Harry's secretly a Phoenix?"

James exchanged a quick glance with Lily, the playful air suddenly shifting. Lily cleared her throat, and the atmosphere in the room grew heavier.

"Actually, Sirius," Lily began, her tone much more serious now, "there's... something else you need to know."

Sirius, sensing the change in mood, raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what? You're not seriously about to drop another bomb on me, are you?"

James scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, mate. There's... one more thing."

Sirius's face was somewhere between wary and curious. "Alright. Hit me. What could possibly top you being Loki?"

Lily inhaled sharply, then spoke carefully. "I'm... not just Lily Evans. Before I became Lily, I was someone else. I was Artemis."

Sirius blinked. Then blinked again. "Like... the goddess Artemis? The one with the arrows and the moon? That Artemis?"

Lily nodded, her expression soft but resolute. "Yes. The same Artemis."

Sirius stared at her, completely silent for a moment. Then, he broke into a grin. "Right. You're Artemis, and I'm Merlin reincarnated. Really funny, Lily."

James nudged Lily, giving her an encouraging look. She sighed and pulled out her wand. "Sirius, I swear on my magic, what I'm about to say is the absolute truth. I, Lily Evans, am Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt, the moon, and protector of maidens."

A faint glow shimmered around Lily as the magic bound her words, the same way it had for James. The truth now echoed in the air, undeniable.

Sirius, wide-eyed, looked between the two of them, completely flabbergasted. "You're—wait—what?"

Lily gave him a small, almost apologetic smile. "Zeus punished me. Stripped me of my divinity, sealed away my memories, and I lived as a human. It wasn't until Harry was born that my memories came back. That's when I remembered who I really was."

Sirius sat, jaw slack. "So... you're both gods?"

"Pretty much," James said, trying to lighten the mood. "Quite the power couple, eh?"

Sirius slumped back into the couch, trying to wrap his head around it all. "So... Harry's not a demigod then."

James shook his head. "Technically, no. Both his parents are divine, so that kind of rules out the 'demi' part."

Sirius groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Right, so Harry's not just any baby wizard. He's got the blood of the Norse trickster god and the Greek goddess of the moon running through his veins. That's... brilliant."

Lily laughed softly, looking down at Harry, who was fast asleep. "He's going to be something special, that's for sure."

Sirius looked up at them, his face a mixture of amazement and exasperation. "You two could've mentioned this earlier, you know."

James grinned, nudging him playfully. "Where's the fun in that?"

—

The sun was shining brightly as the birthday celebrations kicked off in full swing. Colorful streamers adorned the walls of the cozy living room, and the smell of cake filled the air. Baby Harry was the star of the show, his little hands covered in frosting as he giggled in delight at the mountain of presents stacked high around him. Sirius was in full overprotective godfather mode, darting around the room like a hyperactive guardian angel, ready to pounce at any sign of danger—like if someone tried to take the cake away from Harry.

"Easy there, Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, his eyes wide as he handed the baby another piece of cake. "We don't want you turning into a sugar-fueled tornado. Trust me, I've seen what happens when a toddler has too much sugar. It's a horror story I'd rather not relive."

Lily laughed as she watched Sirius fuss over her son. "You're acting like he's about to fly off the walls or something!"

James leaned against the wall, grinning at his best friend. "Sirius Black, overprotective godfather extraordinaire. What do you expect? He's been planning Harry's birthday bash since he was in the womb."

As the party wound down, friends and family began to leave, their laughter and joy echoing in the air long after they had gone. Once the last guest had stepped through the door, the atmosphere shifted slightly, like the calm before a storm.

Just then, the fireplace erupted into green flames, and out stepped Dumbledore, his blue robes swirling around him like a spellbound cape. "Ah, James, Lily. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

James and Lily exchanged a glance. "Not at all, Professor," James replied, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Just wrapping up the birthday celebrations for our little hero here."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked at Harry, but then his expression turned serious. "I have urgent news. A prophecy has surfaced—one that may involve Harry and the Dark Lord."

Lily's stomach dropped. "A prophecy? About Harry?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, his voice as calm and collected as ever. "However, I cannot divulge the specifics just yet. It would be... unwise."

James felt a surge of frustration. For so long, they had admired Dumbledore, hung on his every word, but now, the veil of trust began to lift. "Why can't you tell us everything?" he pressed, an edge creeping into his tone. "We're not children anymore. We deserve to know the full story."

Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully. "James, Lily, I understand your concerns, but the less you know, the safer you will be. I suggest you go into hiding until we have more information."

Lily frowned, her thoughts racing. She exchanged a glance with James, who could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Ever since Harry's birth had awakened their true identities as Loki and Artemis, they had begun to question Dumbledore's motives more critically. They shared this sentiment with Sirius, who sat listening intently, trying to gauge the shifting dynamics.

"What do you mean, go into hiding?" Lily asked, her voice steady but tinged with worry. "What if we want to stay and fight? What if Harry is involved in this prophecy?"

"Harry is innocent in all of this," Dumbledore said gently. "And it is paramount that he remains safe. I can't emphasize enough how important it is for you all to go into hiding for your own protection."

Sirius, who had remained silent until now, chimed in, his brow furrowed. "Dumbledore, with all due respect, you can't just expect them to run off without knowing the whole story. They deserve to understand what's at stake here."

James nodded, his voice firmer. "We've followed you blindly for too long, Professor. We trusted you with everything, but after Harry's birth, we're starting to see things differently. We can't just pack up and disappear without knowing the truth."

Dumbledore's expression remained enigmatic. "I understand your feelings. I assure you, my intentions are for the greater good. I only wish to protect you all."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Lily shot back, her patience waning. "Keeping us in the dark isn't protection; it's control."

The room fell silent, tension crackling like static in the air. Dumbledore studied their faces, weighing their resolve against his own wisdom.

Finally, he sighed. "Very well. I will reveal what I can when the time is right. But for now, I implore you to consider my advice."

With that, he rose from his chair, a shadow of doubt lingering over them. As he stepped back into the fireplace, the flames flickered and swallowed him whole, leaving the three of them in uneasy silence.

"Well," Sirius said finally, crossing his arms, "that was a load of cryptic nonsense."

James shook his head, still processing the implications of Dumbledore's visit. "What do we do now?"

Lily looked down at Harry, sleeping peacefully in his crib. "We protect him, no matter what. We need to figure this out together. Secrets can only harm us if we let them."

Sirius nodded, his protective instincts kicking in. "I'm with you guys. No more hiding in the shadows. We'll face whatever comes next head-on."

James felt a surge of resolve. "Right. We'll unravel this prophecy, and whatever darkness lies ahead, we'll do it as a family. Together."

—

Severus Snape was not having a good day. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he did have a good day, but today was shaping up to be especially terrible.

He stalked down the dark, creepy halls of Malfoy Manor, where everything seemed to scream 'We're bad guys!' in bold letters. The whole place had the vibe of a haunted mansion crossed with a high-end spa, but without the luxury of decent lighting or, you know, any joy.

Snape, of course, wasn't here for a spa day. No, he had news to deliver. Bad news. The kind of news that made his greasy hair feel even greasier just thinking about it. His robes swished dramatically as he approached the inner chamber, where Lord Voldemort—yep, that Voldemort—was holding court. The atmosphere was as heavy as a blanket made of lead, and Snape felt the eyes of every Death Eater on him as he entered.

He bowed low, because that's what you did when you were talking to a noseless snake man with a god complex. "My Lord," he began, trying to keep his voice steady. His nerves were jangling like Peeves had gotten into a Muggle percussion set. "I have... information. From the Hog's Head."

Voldemort, sitting there in all his creepy glory, tilted his head slightly. "Continue," he said, his voice smooth and cold, like ice cream that could murder you.

Snape straightened up, but not too much, because there were rules about these things. "I overheard Dumbledore," he said. "He was speaking with Sybil Trelawney. A prophecy was made... one that concerns a child who could defeat you, my Lord. Born at the end of July. To parents who have defied you three times."

The room got so quiet that Snape was pretty sure he could hear Lucius Malfoy nervously playing with his platinum hair behind him. Voldemort, for his part, just blinked, his red eyes glowing ominously in the dim light.

"A child," Voldemort repeated, his voice calm but dangerous. "One who could destroy me?"

"Yes, my Lord," Snape confirmed, wondering how he'd gotten himself into this mess in the first place. Probably because the universe hated him. That was his working theory, anyway.

Voldemort sat back, tapping his long, thin fingers on the armrest of his chair like he was plotting world domination. Which, of course, he was. "And you only heard part of this prophecy?"

Snape nodded, feeling like a kid who'd only half-finished his homework. "Aberforth caught me eavesdropping and threw me out before I could hear the rest."

"Pity," Voldemort said, though it didn't sound like he was particularly sorry about it. "This child must be found. And eliminated."

Snape's stomach did a little flip at that. Eliminate a child? Even he had his limits... sort of. But you didn't say no to Voldemort, because people who said no to Voldemort usually ended up six feet under. Or worse.

Voldemort waved his hand dismissively. "You may go, Severus. You have done well."

Snape bowed again—his back was starting to ache from all this bowing—and backed out of the room as quickly as he could without actually running. Running was for people who didn't want to look cool and mysterious.

As he stepped into the cold night air outside Malfoy Manor, Snape let out a long breath. He'd just handed over information that could lead to a prophecy baby being hunted down by a dark wizard. Great. Just great. What could possibly go wrong?

He shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged down the path, feeling like the world's worst messenger. The universe really did hate him.

—

James Potter was pacing. Again. This wasn't your typical I forgot where I left my wand pacing. No, this was there's an evil dark wizard trying to kill my family pacing. You know, the fun kind.

"We've got to do it, Lils," he said, his voice tense as he ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, making it somehow even messier. "The Fidelius Charm. It's the only way we can keep Harry safe."

Lily, standing across the room with arms crossed, glanced at their one-year-old son, who was currently babbling away at a stuffed phoenix like it was his best friend. "I know, James," she replied, her voice softer than her usual no-nonsense tone. "But who do we trust enough to be our Secret Keeper? This is Harry's life we're talking about."

Enter Sirius Black, lounging on their couch like he owned the place, feet kicked up, because Sirius didn't do tense unless someone forced him. He grinned. "Obviously, it should be me. Best mate duties and all that. Who else is going to keep this secret better than me?"

Lily gave him one of those smiles—the kind that said, You're sweet, but also please stop talking right now. "Sirius, we love you, but you're the most obvious choice. If Voldemort finds out we're using the Fidelius Charm, he'll come after you first. We can't put that target on your back."

"Pfft, like I don't already have a target on my back," Sirius shot back, sitting up. "You really think some dark wizard's going to scare me? I'll take him on—hand-to-wand combat, no problem. Maybe throw in some fireworks for effect."

James snorted. "Yeah, Padfoot, because nothing says stealth and secrecy like fireworks."

Sirius shrugged. "Just a suggestion. Always gotta keep things dramatic, you know."

But despite the banter, James was thinking. Lily had a point. Sirius was the obvious choice. Which made him… too obvious. That wouldn't work. He glanced at Lily, who was still watching Harry, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

"What if we pick someone no one would expect?" James said slowly, like the idea was forming word by word in his brain. "Someone... unassuming. What if we use Peter?"

Sirius blinked. "Peter? Wormtail?"

Lily's eyes brightened. "Exactly. He's quiet, he's not flashy, and no one would ever suspect him of being the Secret Keeper. And if we tell everyone you're the Secret Keeper, Sirius, that adds another layer of protection."

Sirius leaned forward, considering it. He wasn't one to think of Wormtail as the bravest of their group, but he was loyal. "Huh. Wormtail as a decoy. That could actually work."

James nodded. "We tell everyone Sirius is the one holding the secret, but it's really Peter. No one will go after him. They'll all be too focused on the big, dramatic, fireworks-obsessed Sirius Black."

"Hey," Sirius objected, though he was grinning. "Fireworks have their place, alright?"

Lily looked between the two, her worry softening a little. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was the best they had. And it was clever, which—let's face it—wasn't always James' strongest suit.

"I'll talk to Peter tomorrow," James said, nodding firmly. "We'll do the spell, and no one else can know."

What none of them realized, of course, was that Peter Pettigrew had been playing both sides for over a year. The rat was already deep in the Dark Lord's pocket, and they were about to hand him the most dangerous secret of all.

But for now, Sirius stood up, clapping James on the back. "Don't worry, mate. This plan is solid. Voldemort's got nothing on us."

James chuckled, though there was an edge of doubt in his laughter. "Yeah, let's hope you're right, Padfoot. Because something tells me this game we're playing? It's not going to end the way we think."

If only he knew how right he was.

—

Meanwhile, back at Malfoy Manor, the atmosphere in the drawing room was a cocktail of tension and superiority complexes, garnished with a dash of dread. Lucius Malfoy, ever the epitome of elegance (and probably smugness), stood near the fireplace, casually swirling his goblet of wine like he wasn't delivering life-altering news.

Through "generous gifts" (read: bribes) to various informants, Lucius had uncovered something important. Something that would undoubtedly elevate him in the eyes of the Dark Lord. The prophecy, the one they only had half of, now had some clarity.

"There are two children," Lucius announced, savoring the moment. "Two who match the criteria laid out in the prophecy."

The other Death Eaters shifted slightly, but no one dared to interrupt. Lucius lived for this.

"They were born just a day apart from each other," he continued, with all the flair of someone used to being the center of attention. "One is Neville Longbottom. The other..." He paused, dragging out the tension for as long as possible, "Harry Potter."

A murmur spread through the room, but no one dared to speak outright. Not in the Dark Lord's presence, and certainly not while Lucius was having his moment. But in the corner, slouched in the shadows, Severus Snape's blood ran cold.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Harry Potter. The name hit Snape like a bludger to the gut. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming short as the full weight of his stupidity settled in. Harry Potter. Lily's son. The son of the woman he'd loved since they were kids. The woman he'd never stopped loving, even when she married that insufferable git James Potter.

Snape's greasy hair clung to his face, his expression a mix of horror and regret. It couldn't be. He'd never wanted this. Sure, he hated James with the fire of a thousand hexes, but Lily? Lily was the only good thing in his entire miserable existence.

And now, because of his blind loyalty to the Dark Lord, he'd basically served her and her son up on a silver platter.

His mind replayed the scene from the Hog's Head, where he'd overheard the prophecy—the same prophecy he'd so eagerly reported back to Voldemort. He hadn't known at the time who it referred to. How could he? But now... now it was crystal clear. It was Lily's son. It was Harry.

And here he was, standing among Death Eaters, with the Dark Lord plotting the downfall of the only person he'd ever truly cared about.

I have to fix this. I have to save her.

Not Potter, obviously. If James got what was coming to him, so be it. But Lily... she couldn't die because of this. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

Snape made up his mind. His greasy hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding with a rare mix of fear and determination. He would go to Dumbledore. As much as he loathed the idea of turning to the old man for help, it was the only option. Dumbledore could protect her. He'd have to.

And so, with a heavy heart (and still fueled mostly by selfish reasons), Snape resolved to do whatever it took to save Lily. Because at the end of the day, despite everything, she was the only person who had ever truly mattered to him.

Even if that meant betraying everything else.

---

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