Chapter Text
Chapter One - The Fabricated Prophecy
February 3rd, 1981
Spinner's End
It was at this moment that Snape knew he messed up. When he first heard the prophecy, he had assumed it would lead to the death of some newborn child, a simple casualty in what had been an endless war. But he never imagined it would be Lily Potter’s child. He supposed it shouldn't have been a shock, though. Since joining the Death Eaters, he had destroyed countless lives, breaking apart families forever. But he had just viewed those acts as the price of power, the regrettable but necessary sacrifice. He had thought that delivering the prophecy to the Dark Lord would be the final key to fully winning his approval, but it had only led to one of his worst fears. In the end, fate laughs last and loudest. This thought echoed in his mind as he sat in the dreary confines of his childhood home at Spinner’s End.
But now was not the time to mourn. He would need to act quickly and skillfully if he were to have any chance of saving Lily Potter’s life. But first, he needed a plan. He considered his options, his mind racing at the potential outcomes. He could always beg the Dark Lord to spare her life. After all, his standing among the Death Eaters had risen since he delivered the prophecy, and perhaps The Dark Lord might grant him this one mercy. But Severus knew better. Even if Voldemort did promise to spare her, Lily would never just stand aside and let her son be killed. The Dark Lord would see her defiance as an annoyance, and simply kill her without hesitation. An image of Lily’s lifeless body flashed before his eyes, and he suppressed a shudder.
No, begging was not an option. He needed something more substantial, something that could truly sway the Dark Lord’s mind. As he sifted through his ideas, discarding one after another, a thought struck him— he had not heard the full prophecy, only a fragment had reached his ears that fateful night. The Dark Lord was certain to be highly interested in the remaining contents. If Snape could “discover” the rest of the prophecy, he might be able to fabricate a section in it to include a reason not to kill the mother of the child it spoke about. He would then relay this fabricated prophecy to his master.
The question now was how to get the Dark Lord to believe him. Severus was one of the most skilled Occlumens of his generation, but even he struggled with outright lying to Voldemort. If this plan were to work, Snape would need to base it on as much truth as possible. Only then could he hope to mask the lie within it, to convince the Dark Lord that he had heard the full prophecy, and believe his lies within.
Of course, even if Severus did everything correctly, there was always the chance it wouldn’t work. Voldemort might see through his deception, or merely decide that sparing Lily was too great a risk. And at this moment, Snape had a cold realization. There was only one person who could truly help protect the Potters, someone with the power and intelligence to outmaneuver the Dark Lord himself. Severus hated the idea of meeting his old headmaster, but there weren’t any other options.
To give Lily the best chance of surviving this, he would need to speak to Dumbledore. But this thought filled him with dread and anger—anger at himself, at Dumbledore, at the world, but he knew that if meeting with the headmaster would save Lily’s life, he would do it.
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August 24th, 1981
The North Tower, Near the Divination Classroom
With a deep sigh, Severus climbed up the narrow ladder into the dusty Divination classroom.
It had been just over a year since Severus had begged Dumbledore to save Lily Potter’s life. It hadn’t been easy, but in the end, Dumbledore had agreed, though he made Severus agree to become a spy for him. Severus, of course, had accepted without hesitation, but the task had proved more daunting than he initially had imagined. The hardest part though had come when Dumbledore asked him to teach at Hogwarts. Severus was not fond of children, and though he excelled at Potions, the thought of spending his days overseeing a classroom full of immature brats was repulsive to him. Yet, despite these drawbacks, teaching at Hogwarts provided him with something invaluable. It gave him access to the Divination professor, the one who had given the prophecy that was going to lead to Lily’s death.
Upon entering the room, he silently cast a Nonverbal Silencing Charm, ensuring their conversation would remain private. As he took a few steps forward, a floorboard creaked ominously a few feet away, followed by a sharp gasp.
“Ohh...” gasped Trelawney, her voice trembling. “I had foreseen an unknown presence drawing near. I imagine you wish to speak with me.”
“Your Sight is impeccable,” Severus sneered, taking in her disheveled appearance. She looked even more unhinged than usual, as if her wild hair and oversized glasses were a deliberate mockery of True Seers. It was clear to him that Dumbledore hadn’t hired her for any genuine talent. “And yes, I do wish to speak with you. I believe you might have some useful information for me.”
Swiftly flicking his wand, Severus cast Stupefy, stunning her. Without wasting a moment, he followed with Legilimens, and began to examine her mind. He wasn’t expecting much, but even then, she managed to disappoint him. Her mind was a foggy mire, clouded by the haze of an alcohol addict. Still he pressed onward, delving deeper into her psyche, where he finally found clearer memories.
Severus was already slightly aware of her lineage, mainly that she came from a long line of renowned seers, with her great-great-grandmother standing out as a prominent and powerful Seer. This led to Trelawney’s insecurities, which laid bare before him. That she would never live up to the legacy of her ancestors and was only a mere shadow of their greatness. Still, this didn’t explain how the Divination professor had ended up the way she currently was.
Severus delved deeper, and he came across a string of memories that he believed answered his question. From a young age, Trelawney had been raised by a single, alcoholic mother. She felt as though she had been cursed by her ability to see the future and had turned to drink to drown out the tormenting visions. This fear of her abilities ended up with Trelawney’s mother never teaching her daughter how to be a proper seer. Crucial skills, such as how to attune yourself to the inner eye, how to interpret the small daily visions and thoughts that a true seer might experience, were never passed down. This had left Trelawney lost in the chaos that Seers often faced, and with no healthy way to cope, she too had turned to drinking.
With a small hint of disgust, Severus pulled out of her mind. He was sickened by the life of the Seer he had deemed a fraud, and deep down he felt a twinge of despair. He had also grown up in an unpleasant home, filled by neglect and fear, and he did not enjoy seeing those same experiences reflected in others. But seeing how her problem stemmed largely from her addiction, he felt this might be something he could change. Quickly casting a Confundus charm, he whispered, “You will stop drinking. You will be disgusted by alcohol, and you will find other methods of learning how to be a proper seer.” As the spell finished, Severus was left in a momentary state of shock. A year ago, he would have cared little, if at all, about the troubles of others. Yet here he was, helping a fellow teacher. But he quickly rationalized it. It would be intolerable to deal with an eccentric and incompetent seer as a colleague. Now, at least, he might avoid that.
But these thoughts promptly left him as remembered his true reason for being there. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out and unfolded a piece of parchment that held the false prophecy. It read:
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and in the mother’s hands rests a power to sway the Dark Lord’s path… a power that could lead him to triumph or ruin…”
Moving his wand toward Trelawney again, he uttered, ‘ Obliviate, ’ where he carefully implanted the false memory, making it seem as if she had spoken those words herself. Once he was finished, he again casted ‘ Legilimens ,’ and began to examine the same memory he had just falsely planted.
Of course, Seers don’t remember their True Prophecies, and successfully extracting one could only be done by the most accomplished Legilimens. But it took a hard toll on the Seer in question. It typically led to drastic personality shifts, and sometimes would even induce insanity. Severus was now grateful for his earlier efforts for implanting the aversion to alcohol, as it would lend credibility to the story he would soon present to the Dark Lord. After viewing the memory he had just placed, he exited her mind and cast another quick Obliviate to make her forget the entire encounter.
Dusting off his robes, he removed the silencing charm he had placed earlier, opened the trapdoor, and left the room. The easy part was over, he thought to himself. If he could get the Dark Lord to believe his lie, then Lily Potter might be truly safe.
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August 25th, 1981
9:00 pm
“I hear you have news for me, Severus?”
Severus took a few steps forward, quickly checking his Occlumency shields before speaking.
“Yes, My Lord. Since my appointment as a Hogwarts professor, I have had near-unrestricted access to the Divination professor, the one who gave the prophecy I shared with you last Summer.” He paused for a brief moment, before continuing, “Though I was only able to give you an incomplete version of it at the time, I managed to extract the complete prophecy from her mind last night.”
If there was any nervousness inside Severus, it was undetectable. He knew how crucial the next few minutes were to his scheme, and he had meticulously planned every step, down to the last detail.
“And…?” said Voldemort, his red eyes staring back at Snape’s with extreme intensity.
“In full it states, ‘ The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and in the mother’s hands rests a power to sway the Dark Lord’s path… a power that could lead him to triumph or ruin…’”
The room was deathly silent. Voldemort’s gaze did not waver from Snape’s eyes. After a few moments he spoke, “And has there been any noticeable change of personality? I’d assume you would not be so careless as to break her mind entirely, lest your recent Hogwarts appointment be rescinded.”
“The woman was already known to be a crazed babbling fool, any minor personality changes will hardly be noticed, or remarked about.” Severus stated, “Some of my fellow teachers have mentioned her swearing off drinking, but this was just dismissed as another of her rants. We have nothing to worry about concerning her.” He continued staring into the Dark Lord’s eyes, with complete and utter calm embedded on his face. Time seemed to pass like an eternity, until finally the Dark Lord’s face morphed into a look of triumph.
“Excellent. This information will prove to be of great value. Of course it does change our plans a little, but the essentials remain… the child still must die, but the mother… she will be spared.” In this moment Severus almost lost his composure. He knew that his task wasn’t over yet, but hearing those words come out from his master's mouth had given him a strong sense of relief.
“Any other instructions, My Lord?” Severus asked.
“Continue with your previous task—watch Dumbledore. Alert me if you hear any developments. That is all.” Voldemort replied.
Snape bowed his head, and began walking out when he heard his master’s voice call out to him.
“And Severus—”
Snape turned around slowly.
“Your loyalty and determination to our cause will be rewarded.”
“Thank you, My Lord.” And with that, Snape left the room.
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October 31st, 1981
Godric’s Hollow
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”
“Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…”
“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—”
“Stand aside, I will not ask again!”
“Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…”
And in that moment, Voldemort quickly came up with a solution.
“I can’t kill you, but if you won’t stand aside willingly I’ll move you myself! STUPEFY”
And with that Lily blacked out.
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November 1st, 1981
Godric’s Hollow
12:07 am
Lily Potter’s eyes opened, the world around her slowly coming into focus. She gradually got up and gasped as she saw the wreckage around her. A massive hole was now on the side of their house, and broken pieces of stone and wood left the room in disarray. But her eyes soon darted to Harry’s crib, where she saw her child, in tears, reaching out for his mama. She rushed to him, picking him up and held him close, whispering soothing words until his crying softened. After she had fully calmed him down, her mind began to take in more of the environment around her, and at that moment she realized she needed to check on her husband. Lily knew that the chance of Voldemort sparing him as well was unlikely—near impossible—, but she herself had been spared. There was still hope.
That hope left a brief moment later, as she saw her husband’s body, stiff and lifeless on the floor. “James…" she whispered, her voice breaking. But there was no answer. No flicker of life. James Potter was dead. She knelt over and collapsed on the floor, quietly sobbing as she held her now asleep child, unsure of what to do next.
She stayed there on the floor for half an hour, until the faint sound of what she knew as Sirius’ flying motorbike could be heard in the distance. Picking herself up, she gently put Harry back into his crib before stumbling out of her house, just as Sirius was getting off his motorbike.
“WHAT HAPPENED, WHERE’S JAMES, WHERE’S HARRY, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?” Sirius shouted, his voice frantic as he began to observe the scene.
Overwhelmed and unable to speak, Lily ran over to him, collapsing into his arms as she bawled into his shoulder. Sirius embraced her back, holding her tightly, and the two stood there for what felt like an eternity before Lily managed to choke out, “Vol… Voldemort came… James… James is… gone… Harry’s alive, he’s alright… he’s sleeping right now.” Upon hearing the news that his now former best friend was dead, Sirius stiffened, as he too started to cry. They stood like that for a long moment, until eventually Lily pulled back and said, “Voldemort is gone… I don’t know what happened to him.”
Sirius looked at her, his expression showing hesitance. “Gone?” he said. “What do you mean, gone?”
“I don’t know,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I just know he’s not here.”
“We should go back inside,” Sirius said, “I don’t want to leave Harry alone in there for too long.”
They both began to walk into the home in silence. Upon entering the house, Sirius saw James’ body, and tears rolled down his face once more. Unable to look for too long, Sirius pulled his gaze away and the pair made their way to Harry's room where he laid in his bed, still asleep. They went to his crib, and upon seeing his face, Sirius asked, “Lily, he hasn’t always had that scar… has he?”
Lily, in confusion, looked over, and was able to see a lightning bolt shaped scar on her child’s forehead. “No…” she whispered, “He hasn’t had that before tonight.” She moved closer, and inspected her child’s new scar, “What does it mean?”
“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might… I don’t know. But if anyone could know, it would be Dumbledore.” He paused, before finishing, “I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d made him your Secret Keeper.”
At the realization of betrayal, Lily’s face darkened, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face Sirius. “Our Secret Keeper… Peter did this! Peter is the reason Voldemort was able to find us! He’s the reason James is dead!” Her face grew red as her intense sorrow morphed into intense anger, “We have to find him Sirius! He betrayed us and he will pay!”
For a moment, he was silent, but then he nodded, his voice low and dangerous. “We will Lily. Trust me. Peter will rot in Azkaban for what he’s done. And when he’s had enough time to suffer… I’ll kill him”
“No Sirius,” Lily said, her voice suddenly quiet and cold. “No you won’t kill him. He’ll rot in Azkaban for decades, He’ll rot in Azkaban for decades, until every last memory of happiness fades from his mind. Until he’s nothing but a shell.”
Her face grew into a calm, dangerous resolve. The room seemed to darken, the air thick with the weight of her words.
“And then… I’ll kill him.”