DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Harry Potter world. I make no money over my random and oft disjointed writings.

'Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.' Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, page 314

AUTHORS NOTE: Ever read a passage in a book that seems to burn itself into your brain? I was flipping through the books to make sure my information was correct for a WIP, and reread this line. It made me start thinking about Lily. If she was such a fiery witch… would she let an insignificant thing such as death keep her away from her child?

SO this is my first non-slash, non-main character story, about what would have happened if Lily raised Harry and Dudley. As such… I don't expect it to be too terribly popular. But that's ok. Because this idea is driving me nutso and I can't write anything else until I purge it from my system.

And warm feelings of affection for Sher for answering my question so promptly : )

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PROLOGUE

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Harry started crying when he heard the thump.

Whether or not he knew his father had fallen was debatable, but Lily found herself choking on her own tears as she stumbled up the stairs. Why did she go UP? Why didn't she go OUT? They'd been sitting at the dining room table, for goodness sakes. She could have disappeared out the back door and been safe. James had told her to take Harry, and she had blindly grabbed her baby and run straight to the nursery. And now she was trapped by her own anti-apparition wards. "Ssh…" her voice sounded off – high pitched and trembly. Did they have time to jump out the window? It was so hard to think coherently as Harry's little fists clenched and unclenched anxiously against her robes. "Daddy's fine baby, we're ok." Lily moaned, hearing the creak on the stair. Terror make her hands shake violently, so she set her son in his crib rather than risk dropping him.

She turned her back to the crib, refusing to bow down to the monster who was trying so hard to destroy her family. She couldn't afford to be weak – she needed to stay strong for Harry's sake. The shadow in the doorway caused an ache to start deep within her soul; spreading rapidly through her body until she was one quivering mass of sensation as she stared at the red eyed man. "Please." Any thought of not begging promptly disappeared from her mind as she stood between the crib and the doorway. "Not Harry. Anything but Harry. Please. Take me. Do whatever you want to me. I'll come willingly. Just please let Harry be."

"Foolish woman." The tone was cold, unimpressed. "Stand aside. You needn't suffer. It's the child I want."

"No!" The cry was desperate. "Not Harry! Anything but Harry!" She screamed once when the flash of green light impacted, causing her body to fall inelegantly to the floor. She stood back up immediately.

Harry's cries were much more intense. His chubby thighs wobbly as he gripped the side of his crib and chanted an unbroken litany of "Ma ma ma ma ma!" Lily reached back instinctively to soothe, only to gasp in horror as her hand went right through her son. She stared at her hand in betrayal. It couldn't be… oh please no! A wail seemed to rise from the very air around her as she was forced to stand there and watch events play out as they had been prophesized.

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James had been reaching for her, nearly blinded by tears and grief, but Lily was far too angry to go anywhere near him, and shook the searching tendrils off of her. Eventually, as she studiously ignored the pull from both the earth and the… beyond, or whatever… the image of her husband vanished and she was left alone. Left alone to rest her head against Hagrid's shoulder and sing a soothing lullaby to Harry; pleased when his cries turned to whimpers and he fell asleep. It didn't take her long to realize she wasn't a ghost. Useless screaming and pleading and begging towards Sirius and Professor Dumbledore convinced her of that. She didn't know quite what she was, but being ignored had never pissed her off quite as much as the moment she realized Albus Dumbledore meant to leave her baby with her sister. It made sense, legally, to send Harry off with the closest blood relative, but Lily hadn't spoken to Petunia since she had discovered she was pregnant. Petunia had refused to come to her wedding or do anything near anything magical. Their relationship was strained, at best. Harry was already developing into a determined little boy with a strong magical core. He thought it was funny to summon cookies, and had once toddled to his nursery and warded the room in order to avoid taking a bath.

Every fear Lily had was magnified tenfold as she watched the Dursley family interact with Harry. Or rather, not interact with him. They feared him. They hated him. They didn't care if they broke his spirit if it meant he would be afraid to utilize his magic. And one night, as Lily desperately tried to calm her little boy after he had been shut in the cupboard and ignored, she started to plan. She may have been a Gryffindor, picture-perfect Prefect, and all around lovely human being while at school, but she had also been best friends with Severus Snape and married to a Marauder. She had been taught by the best that planning went into well-executed schemes, and waiting for just the right moment made the revenge all the sweeter.

Lily's moment came on Harry's second birthday when Petunia stopped serving dinner and bolted to the bathroom. "Pet?" Vernon Dursley looked in mild shock at the place where his wife had negligently thrown a dish of spotted dick on the table, and then at the closed bathroom door where sounds of violent retching could be heard. Dudley screamed, his plump hands reaching out for any food he could reach. Harry sat quietly in his chair, tense over this unfamiliar development. Standing behind her son's highchair, Lily stroked the back of his messy hair as a gleam entered her eyes.

"It's all right, dear." Petunia Dursley was pale and trembling as she entered the kitchen. She blanched at the smell of food and absently passed her plate to Harry before moving to put the kettle on for tea.

"Bug going round?" Assured over her immediate well-being, Vernon went back to his dinner.

"Something like that." Petunia wrung her hands anxiously, gaze flickering to the table as she waited by the stove for the water to boil. Lily's smile was cold as she studied her sister. Something was wrong with her sister's body. It was a shame, really, that Lily was going to capitalize on her sister's weakness in order to assume control.

"Going to have a bite to eat, Pet?"

"Not hungry, darling. Think I'll just have a bit of tea and have a lie down after I put the boys to bed."

Lily rolled her eyes at the stilted conversation. There was no life, no passion, between them. Everything seemed so contrived and proper. There was always such warmth between her and James. Their home, short-lived as it had been, had been full of laughter and warmth, of fighting and making up, of taking pictures of things no other person would ever understand, and inside jokes that they didn't even truly remember. Harry deserved to grow up in a home like that. Even that spoiled toddler squirming about as Petunia tried to wipe his sticky hands and face deserved a chance. Lily may have been a young mother, but she had been loving.

Petunia's appetite continued to decrease. She had difficulty picking her son up, cleaning, and frequently caught her breath and placed her hands over the lower right side of her stomach in an attempt to hold in her pain. Three days later, it had gotten so bad that Petunia packed up Dudley and Harry and took them with her to the doctor. Lily smiled, stroking the back of her son's head as Petunia informed the nurse of her symptoms. She could feel her sister weakening, and left Harry's side to walk closer to the bed Petunia was reclining on. When the nurse asked for a urine sample however, Petunia shot to her feet with an indignant, "well, I never!" Then she paused, wavering on her feet as the pain in her midriff sharpened. "Oh." She sounded surprised; knees going weak in relief as the pain just as suddenly vanished. "That's ever so much better." Two seconds later, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.

Lily watched the protective barrier around her sister's soul ripple and shot forward; grabbing onto the opening with both hands and tearing until a hole big enough to wiggle through formed. Harry, sitting so silent and still in the chair across the room, lit up like a Christmas tree when their eyes connected. Green eyes sparkling with happiness, he beamed and extended his little hands towards her eagerly. "Mama!" Dudley, however, stared at his mother in confusion and whimpered; instinctively scooting closer to Harry for comfort.

It took awhile for Petunia to realize her body was now playing host to her sister's spirit. "…complaining of pain in the lower right quadrant… Ma'am? …think her appendix has burst… Ma'am? Mrs. Dursley?" Her body was picked up and placed gently onto the examining table. "She's out of it." A prickle as an IV was started in her wrist, followed by the cool sensation of air as an oxygen mask was placed over her mouth. The feeling of floating as her body was picked up and placed on a stretcher. Petunia instinctively clutched her sister's reassuring presence closer as the doctor's words began to register in her foggy brain.

"… baby. My baby…" Lily felt a fissure of unholy glee ripple through her when Petunia's mouth moved as she spoke.

"Get Dr. Stevens in here. Ma'am, the children will be fine. We're sending them to the playroom until we can contact your husband. Try and relax, we're going to take you to surgery now and get you feeling all better."

Dudley and Harry started to cry as nurses picked them up and carried them from the room. "Mama!"

"Let's get her to surgery!" The doctor's voice was brisk as he called for support and wheeled Petunia's body down the hall. Her sister was weak, fading in and out of consciousness as the poison continued to trickle throughout her body. Lily wrapped herself around the frail body; Petunia's spirit clinging to her own as deliberately calm voices adjusted the mask over her face and strong arms transferred her to a surgical bed.

The anesthetic was delicious. It thrummed through the body; relaxing muscles and allowing Petunia to gratefully fall asleep and block out this nightmare of a day. Lily cuddled closer. Letting her strands of dormant magic spark through her sister's body in comfort as she aligned herself in the body and searched and searched… and there it was. Petunia's life thread was dull and listless; throbbing dully at the base of her skull and completely surrounded by the presence of Lily's magic. Without giving herself time to reflect upon what she was about to do, Lily rushed forward and pushed. At first, there was no resistance. Petunia was too weak, too tired, too utterly surprised by the force of the invasion to put up much of a fight. It wasn't until Lily had nearly gained complete control of the body before Petunia's spirit seemed to realize that this was a fight it couldn't lose. But by then it was too late. Lily's spirit was firmly entrenched in the body, and Petunia…

"CLEAR!"

The jolt of electricity raced through her body, flinging out the last remnant of Petunia's weakened soul and causing Lily's mouth to open on a soundless scream as her lungs sucked in great mouthfuls of the sterilized air. It hurt. Burned. Made her brain feel like static and her muscles as limp as overcooked noodles. She ignored it all, too grateful for the chance, too eager to hear the answer. "My baby… please… Harry…" The voices continued talking in an annoying rush around her. Now she cursed the anesthesia she had earlier praised at it attempted to drag her back into unconsciousness. From far away she could swear she heard James screaming at her.

"…Shows no allergies to this medication…"

"…blockage in her intestines…continue to drain the contents of the intestine through the tube…"

"Did you see that burst of light when her heart started beating again? It was like magic!"

"Son, you work in medicine long enough you'll realize there's magic all around us. Pass me that vial."

"Is she awake? Put her back under."

"… Vitals are stable… I want 50 c's of…" Lily moaned, drifting in and out of consciousness, the conflicting sensation of hands working on her body and the heady rush of the medication lifting making her muscles tremble.

"Ma'am? Mrs. Dursley?" The voice was unfamiliar, unimportant. "You're in recovery now. You're going to be just fine!"

"Please…baby…. Where's my baby?"

"It's all right, Mrs. Dursley." Someone was patting her hand in a gesture meant to comfort. "You're feeling a bit out of sorts due to the medication you've received. Sleep now. You're going to be right as rain and everything will be a bit clearer in the morning."

"My son…"

"She's trying to say something." Sterile cloth brushed against her cheek as a nurse leaned closer to her oxygen mask. "Say it again, love."

"Harry… my son…"

Latex covered fingers gently smoothed a strand of hair off her face. "There now pet, the children are fine. With your husband, they are. Sleep now. There will be time to talk in the morning."

The voice was soothing; hypnotic. Her body responded instinctively to the comfort. And for the first time in the nine months since that fateful Halloween night, Lily slept.