Operation Homeward (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

One

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The house was too quiet.

This was just one of the many thoughts buzzing around in Lily Potter's brain as she lay on her bed, blankly staring up at her bedroom ceiling. Merlin knew she had plenty of summer homework to do, and she probably should be practicing for the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts coming up that year, but she just ... couldn't. Not today. Her body felt too numb and useless, even as a storm of emotion swirled on the inside.

Five minutes ticked away on the wooden clock hanging on her wall, but the house was still silent. Far too silent for the Potters, who housed three teenaged wizards—one of said wizards being a master of pranks and mayhem (even though James hadn't pranked anyone for a while). Given the circumstances, the house should be bustling with noise.

So why was it so quiet?

Lily, of course, knew the answer to that question, as much as she despised it—today was June 7th. And for the Potter family, June 7th was not a normal day; it hadn't been for five years now.

Shaking her head at the memories that tried to force their way into her head, she finally got the energy to sit up, coming face-to-face with the tall mirror in the corner of the room. She stared at her reflection for several moments, not caring that her dark red hair was messy and knotted, or that her face was pale and sickly. She only stared at her emerald green eyes, so similar to the eyes she'd been looking for since she was nine.

Seeing and feeling the tears well up motivated her to shake her head again and stand up, purposely avert her eyes from the mirror, and walk out of her room. To do what, she had no clue—but after some wandering with an autopilot-driven mind, she found herself standing in front of a closed door on the main level, just to the right of the living room.

For a few moments, she only stared at the dark brown wood, fingering the brass doorknob hesitantly. Did she really want to come in here? It's not like it was forbidden anymore, after her Aunt Hermione had cleared out everything mildly dangerous, and for five years, this room had just sat here as a memorial. Even then, she still hadn't been inside for more than a minute, and she didn't reckon anyone else had, either—besides Kreacher, their house elf (who worked because he wanted to and for pay, thank you very much), who would clean it every so often.

Swallowing, Lily turned the knob and pushed the door open, but did not yet step inside.

His office still looked the same: two bookshelves littered with very few books and plenty of pictures and trinkets; a dark, wooden desk with more picture frames and papers scattered across the surface. Lily knew it was left that way for a reason—Harry Potter never really was one for neatness and organization, and to clean his office would be like cleaning his spirit out of the place.

Her eyes locked on a warped, pink and purple bowl proudly sitting at the corner of the desk. Her breath caught as she finally stepped inside, only to tenderly reach out and grip it—the indentions of tiny fingertips were still visible on the clay, as well as messy handwriting scrawled on the side:

To Daddy

From Lily

July 2015

Lily gently set down the pinch bowl, her gaze traveling to the picture frame beside it. A family of six waved up at her; a teenage boy with bright blue hair on the far right, smiling sheepishly, was ruffling the already-messy black hair of a younger boy with hazel eyes and glasses. Beside him, in the middle of the bottom row, was a seven-year-old version of herself, sticking her tongue out at a slightly older boy to her left, who also had messy black hair, but green eyes.