Title: Chasing the Sun

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything

Author’s note: The lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from It Ends Tonight by the All American Rejects.

Summary: AU. Lily and Harry both survive the attack on Halloween. Ten years later, fate brings an old friend back into Lily’s life as Harry starts his first year at Hogwarts.

Prologue: It Ends Tonight

When darkness turns to light,
It ends tonight, it ends tonight

The ruins of the house stood out starkly against the night sky. The place was damp and dark and filled with the scent of smoke and charred wood and death. The air was cold, and even the silvery glow of the thin slit of moon could not dispel the fear that lingered around the destroyed home. It was oppressing, the scene, and silent, so silent that the air itself seemed to be filled with an overpowering tension.

And then the silence was broken by the wail of a child, a high-pitched noise that echoed in the still night. Something moved within the house, a half-supported beam crashing to the floor, a decimated grandfather clock crumbling to dust. Another movement, and a shadow appeared by the broken window.

A shadow with a tear-streaked face and fiery red hair.

The shadow knelt over the crib, the only intact furniture in the entire house, and lifted a child into her arms. She looked down at the dead body by the door, the brown eyes open and unseeing, the once messy hair matted with dirt. What had happened? She remember little except the thud of her husband’s body as he hit the ground and the screams of terror that burst from her own throat. She didn’t have her wand, but she stood in front of the boy and then…

And then everything else was a blank, and all she could remember was waking into this silence, waking to her dead husband and her sobbing son.

She stood hesitantly on the doorstep, staring into the cold and unsympathetic eyes that gazed unblinkingly back at her. The child was clutched tightly in her arms, and he fussed, moving back and forth, unable to understand what had happened, unable to comprehend the reason for his mother’s unease. But she did not look at her son, did not look anywhere except at those unfriendly eyes.

“Please,” she whispered, the word choked, grief and guilt lacing her voice, making it hard to speak. “It would only be for a few days… I need to…” She stopped, unable to go on, unable to put into words what she needed.

The heavy thud of her husband’s falling body echoed in her mind, and all she could think was that she desperately needed to finish this, to make it all end. But before her bloodshot eyes, she continued to witness the sudden stiffness of his body, the way he fell, collapsing under the flash of brilliant green light.

If only it could be a dream, if only she could awake and find it was just a nightmare…

But it wasn’t a nightmare. It was life, a reality that was crystal clear, with harsh lines and jagged edges. A reality cold and hard and unavoidable.

The eyes narrowed at her words, at her plea.

“Just a few days,” she said again, “and I’ll come back for him. Just watch him for a few days… please.”

The silence that fell at the end of her begging was just another reminder of all that she had lost, of the arguments and fights and hasty insults that had finally destroyed the relationship, pushed up barriers that might never come down again.

Except…

Family was still family, no matter what.

The eyes softened, and a pair of arms reached out and took the boy from her, temporarily taking away the burden so that she could focus on the one thing left she had to do, the one person she had to find.

The door to the house swung shut, and she turned away, walking quickly down the path, past primly trimmed bushes that lined the walkway surrounding the manicured front lawn. Under the faint yellow glow of the street lights that bathed the parked cars and fire hydrants in a warmth light, she turned on the spot and was gone, disappearing into thin air.

And leaving behind a perfectly normal street, the last place in the world you would ever expect anything extraordinary to happen.

It took less time than she had expected. In less than twenty-four hours, she found herself standing in the middle of the street, sunlight pouring down on her and highlighting every line in her grief-filled expression, reflecting off her fiery hair. In less than twenty-four hours, with her husband’s unseeing eyes still plaguing her, haunting her with reminders of what she had lost, she finally caught up with him.

But so had someone else.

The man with black hair and dark eyes advanced slowly on his quarry, rage and loathing reverberating in every step he took. His wand was out in front of him, and there was a darkness in his eyes, a fury that spoke of things far worse than even she understood. A guilt, too, underneath it all, a guilt that seemed to make everything heavier, harder, colder.

But she did not waste time looking at him. Instead, her eyes went to the other man, to his nervous movements and rat-like features, to the pretend tears that welled in his pale eyes.

She heard his words, but didn’t really understand what he was saying.

“James and Lily, Sirius! And little Harry, too! How could you? How could you?”

She wanted to strangle him. She wanted to wrap her hands around his chubby throat and press until his lips turned blue and he took his last, struggling breath. She wanted him to know the pain, the horror, the loss that filled her. And she wanted to ask why, wanted to demand answers, to know the truth about what he had done and why he had done it. She wanted to understand, because…

Because he had been her friend, and now…

And now she was forever haunted by those eyes, dead and uncommunicative… Eyes that had once gazed at her with love and pride, and would now remain forever closed. Now there was nothing but a hazy red of fire-fury, an emotion that burnt out her insides and destroyed her soul, leaving her with nothing but a bitter anguish and an all-consuming pain.

She pointed her wand at him. He had not seem her, and perhaps he never would, not with his rat-like eyes focused so intensely on the furious man before him. She pointed her wand and tried to summon the hatred, tried to force the words from her throat. But even after everything…

Her hand was shaking, the wand trembling in her grasp. Her knuckles were white, so white, and yet…

She could not do it.

Try as she might, the words, two simple, straightforward words…

Avada Kedavra.

…they would not come.

“How could you, Sirius?” he cried again.

And this time, the words did come. Different words, words she had not expected. Words laced with bitterness and fury, words filled with grief and pain, words that encompassed everything. They burst from her, uncontrollable, rushing together in an effort to leave her throat before she choked on them, before the ache in her heart and the throbbing in her head prevented her from speaking at all.

“How could you, Peter? How could you do this to us? James was your friend… your friend and you… traitor! Liar! Murderer! How could you have… ruined so much? James is dead… dead… and Harry has no father now… because of you. Because of you!”

He stared back at her, eyes wide with horror at her appearance, not understanding how she cold be standing there. There were others, Aurors moving towards them, and Ministry officials mixing with the crowd of Muggles on the street, and yet she saw none of it. She saw nothing around her, nothing but this man, this traitor, this one-time friend. Her emerald eyes met his own pale orbs, and all she could do was stare at him, as though the rest of the world had fallen away, and she was caught forever in this moment.

“How could you?” she whispered again, because, really, that was the only question worth asking.