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The Corruption of Lily Potter	By : jamspectrum1274 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 93627 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own anything described in this story. All original works to the Harry Potter franchise belongs to J.K. Rowling. No copywright infringement is intended. I do not make any money off of this, as I am only doing this for fun.

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Corruption of Lily Potter
Chapter 1
July 31, 1985-#4 Privet Drive

          “Silence! Another sound out of you and you won’t eat for a week!” The fat, obnoxious form of Vernon Dursley hovered over the small, skinny boy sobbing on the floor, red belt marks clearly visible on his naked back. Standing behind Vernon, Petunia and Dudley smirked at the five-year-old Harry Potter trying to stop his cries as another strike hit his body from the thin, black leather belt held in Vernon’s hand. If anyone had to ask why this was happening, it was because Harry simply asked if he was getting any birthday presents. After all, it was only last month that he witnessed his cousin Dudley receive a whole lot of presents for his birthday, as well as the biggest birthday cake that he had ever seen. Although, while Harry was genuinely proud of his cousin, he wasn’t allowed to participate. In fact, the only thing Harry was allowed to do on Dudley’s birthday was clean up after him.
          Now, here he was, on his birthday, on the floor crying and wondering why he didn’t get to celebrate his birthday. Looking back up at his uncle, Harry silently begged for him to stop. Satisfied that the boy knew his place, Vernon stepped back and said. “A worthless freak like you doesn’t deserve to celebrate birthdays. Now get back in the kitchen and finish helping your aunt with breakfast!”
          “Y-Yes, Uncle Vernon.” Harry shivered as he slowly stood back up and pulled down his torn t-shirt over his chest. With that, he walked towards the kitchen with Petunia following him with a smirk still on her face. Little did they all knew, the ghostly figure of Lily Potter watched all of this, tears falling down her cheeks with anger in her heart at her sister and her brother-in-law. Ever since she died, her spirit has been tied to her son Harry and has gone wherever he has gone. In truth, she wondered why Albus Dumbledore left Harry under the care of Petunia and her husband, but she understood that with what happened on that fateful Halloween night, there might not have been any other choice. However, watching her sister’s family treatment of Harry for the past three and a half years had Lily questioned Dumbledore’s actions over and over. Watching Harry now as he brings his uncle a hot cup of coffee as well as a glass of orange-juice for his cousin, she couldn’t help but wonder if Dumbledore was actually concerned for her son’s wellbeing.
          ‘I’m so sorry, Harry.’ Lily spoke to him, her words echoing all around her. As Harry gave Vernon his coffee he paused for a moment and turned towards where Lily stood. Lily instantly noticed this as there were moments that Harry somehow was able to hear his mother. However, Harry returned his focus back to serving his uncle and cousin, for while he might have heard her, he was never able to see her at all. Lily so wanted Harry to see her, but she knew that was not possible at the time. Or so she thought.
          After breakfast was over for the Dursleys and Harry had finished cleaning up the dishes, Petunia gave him two pieces of stale toast and a glass of water and sent him to his room, which was a broom cupboard under the stairs. Harry sat on his small bed, which was barely able to fit inside of the cupboard, and ate his toast, crying softly wishing he could have a better life. Sitting next to him was Lily, angrily shaking her head at the treatment of her son. All she wanted for Harry was for him to be treated fairly, or at least not like how he was being treated now. Ever since Dumbledore left him there right on their doorstep, the Dursleys seemingly tried to make Harry feel like he was less than nothing. More than that, though, there was something about Vernon, and his sister Marge, that always seemed a little off to Lily. She originally got this feeling about them when she had met them at Lily’s and Petunia’s parents’ funeral. While Petunia did show affection towards both her and James at that time, and even baby Harry, Vernon and Marge were the complete opposite. They were very quiet around them, and only glared at them with either disgust or sheer hatred. The only time these two ever talked to Lily and James back then, and James nearly throttled Vernon afterwards. Lily barely remembered what Vernon and Marge said to them, but it did lead to James throwing the heavier man to the ground and pummeling him with his fists. James wasn’t really known for using his hands to take care of problems, although he had a temper, he preferred his wand rather than his fists. After the funeral, Lily never again heard from her sister or from her family. She did write letters to Petunia from time to time, but they all came back unopened and unanswered.
          Now the Petunia she saw was completely different. When they were kids, Petunia was cold towards her, but Lily knew it was simple sibling jealousy. Lily had magic, Petunia didn’t. Petunia called Lily a ‘freak’ at times when their parents weren’t around, and often avoided her whenever she was around Severus, but in truth, Lily always knew Petunia cared for her. When Lily married James and Petunia married Vernon, that all changed suddenly for the both of them. When Petunia got married, she never bothered to send Lily any type of invitation to attend, while the opposite could not be said for Lily. She not only sent invitations to her sister, she even asked if Petunia was willing to be Maid-of-Honor for her. However, Petunia never even bother to show up at for the ceremony. Instead, Lily asked Alice Longbottom, a close friend from school who had just married her school sweat-heart Frank, to be Maid-of Honor. Petunia barely stayed in touch with Lily after that, and was colder towards her whenever they spoke. The last time Lily tried to contact Petunia was just before she died. It was the week before that Halloween, and Lily sent her a letter warning her about Voldemort. However, the letter returned to her unopened the very morning of.
          Now, Petunia literally smiled and nearly laughed at every time Harry was beaten by Vernon, and by Marge whenever she visited, along with her dogs (Ripper was the worst). She had changed, the sister Lily knew was no longer there. It was like Petunia actually enjoyed seeing Vernon beating Harry, and she literally encouraged Dudley to join in during several times, insisting that ‘freaks’ like Harry needed to learn his place. Petunia did not treat Harry like family, she treated him like a House-Elf who served those horrible pureblood families like the Malfoys. Now, seeing Harry, her son beaten and abused constantly, had taken a considerable toll on her temper and her anger had reached a breaking point. She wanted to do something, but she knew that she couldn’t in the form she was in now, which made her even angrier.
          “Mum, Is that you?” Harry looked at her through his tears.
          Lily literally gasped in shock as Harry reached out for her with both hands and touched her ghostly arms. He could not only see her, he could somehow touch her as well. Lily reached out and pulled her son into the tightest hug she could muster. She could feel him against her, she didn’t know how, or even why, all she knew at that time was she could comfort her son finally after all this time.
          “Harry? Can you hear me?” Lily asked, her mouth moving, but her voice seemed to flow all around them.
          “Yes!” He nearly shouted, tears now steadily flowing down his face, glad that he had his mother back. Pulling away from her a bit, but still holding her, he asked: “Mum, how are you here? You and Dad died in a car crash when I was a baby. What happened?”
          “Harry, what your Aunt told you was a lie.” Lily told him, sniffling happily now in her own tears. “Your father and I were killed by a very bad man. It was your grandparents, my and your Aunt Petunia’s parents, that were killed in a car crash.” She paused for a moment, not sure if Harry could grasp what she was telling him. He looked at her calmly though and nodded, wanting to hear more. However, explaining too much to her five-year-old son was simply something she wasn’t quite prepared to do. “I promise you, Harry, that I will try to tell you as much as I can soon, but for now, today is your birthday, so I will reveal one important thing to you. I know you’re going to have a ton of questions, but I think its best that you try not to make too much noise. Your Uncle is a very angry man and I really don’t know why.”
          After a few moments of taking in what his mother said, Harry nodded and answered as silently as he could: “Okay, Mum. What do you want to tell me?”
          Lily let go of her son for a moment and sighed, still overjoyed at the fact that Harry could see her. She knew that it meant only one thing: “You’re a wizard, Harry.”

**********************************************************
Two years later

          Harry was smiling as he walked home from school, his mother walking behind him in her spirit form. Today was a good day for him at school, for Harry watched with a smile and a laugh as Dudley and his band of goons were caught by their teacher trying to pick on Harry again and given one week of detention. Lily too was smiling at the fact that this happened, because while Harry was the only one that could still see her, she discovered that she could finally interact with objects. Such as, she picked up a math book in Harry’s classroom and threw it at a window, getting Harry’s teacher to see what was going on outside with Dudley and his gang of friends. She only discovered that she could do this a few months prior to this on Harry’s seventh birthday. The fact that made her exceedingly happy as she could now act in her son’s defense when necessary. It still took a lot of effort on her part to do this, and afterwards, she would feel week for a few moments. However, those moments had gotten shorter each time she did this.
          Lily also discovered that in the beginning she had to be real close to Harry, no more than five feet away from him. Any time she tried to go farther than that, she would instantly be pulled back to her son. Ever since Harry’s fifth birthday, however, Lily found that she could move a little farther each time. She didn’t go too far, though, as she still felt the need to stay close to Harry.
          Harry was still wearing Dudley’s old clothes, which his teachers was real worried about. One of them made a visit to their house one time, insisting that if they didn’t treat Harry better, then she would call protective services and take Harry away from them. Lily was very proud of that teacher for standing up to Vernon and Petunia, but soon discovered a week later that the teacher was no longer employed and was put in prison on a charge of treason. Both Lily and Harry knew that was completely bogus, but when Harry came home that very day, Vernon had nearly beaten him to death and threw him into his cupboard, not letting him out unless it was for school or for his one meal a day. This had terrified Lily, for she didn’t know Vernon had this much political clout to trump up a charge like that and have someone thrown in prison without due process. There was definitely something about Vernon Dursley that simply made Lily suspicious of him. Sure, he knew of muggles that genuinely knew and hated people in the wizarding world, but this seemed entirely different too her. After all, wasn’t he just a tool salesman?
          As Harry and Lily reached Privet Drive, they stopped to see Mrs. Figg, a near eldering aged short, stout woman, carrying her cart of groceries on the opposite side of the street. Waving over to Harry with a warm smile, Mrs. Figg crossed the street to walk beside Harry. For Harry, Mrs. Figg was the only one on the street who was kind enough to Harry to protect him at times when she saw that Vernon came home in a foul mood. Lily was especially grateful for this, as she fed Harry whatever he wanted when she let him stay at her house. There were also times, quite recently in fact, where Mrs. Figg offered to let Harry stay over whenever he suspected things might get bad for him. She had only moved into the neighborhood a year ago, so it did strike Harry odd at first when she offered this, but Lily explained that she knew her and that she was a friend of one of her teachers. She did not tell Harry it was Professor Dumbledore, or even about Hogwarts. That was something she wanted Harry to discover himself.
          “Don’t go home, Harry.” Mrs. Figg warned him, foregoing her always cheerful greeting towards him. “Your Uncle is already home, and knows about Dudley’s detention. What’s worse is that Marge is with him along with that blasted dog Ripper.”
          “Thanks, Mrs. Figg. I…Hang on! How do you know about my Aunt Marge and her dog?” Harry instantly frowned at this. Lily looked at her as well, concerned for Harry wellbeing becoming the focus of her thoughts.
          “I can’t say yet, Harry.” Mrs. Figg answered, glancing sideways towards the Dursley’s home. “All I can tell you is that I was sent to watch over you, and protect you whenever I can. Please, I can’t say more, Harry. You need to come with me right now.”
          Sensing the fear in Mrs. Figg’s voice, Lily said: “Do what she says, Harry. I don’t like the idea that Marge decided to show up right out of the blue.”
          Harry nodded in response, grabbing Mrs. Figg’s cart and helping her back across the street. They got halfway there when they heard Petunia’s voice from behind them.
          “Hello, Mrs. Figg!” Petunia Dursley nearly shouted, getting their attention. “I’m sorry, but Harry can’t help you today. My sister-in-law has decided to surprise us out of the blue, and it would be quite rude of Harry if he didn’t come into the house and greet her properly.”
          “Are you sure you need him right now, Mrs. Dursley?” Mrs. Figg turned back and smiled slightly with a terrified look on her face. “I sure would appreciate it if Harry could help me with these groceries. I need someone like him to help me from time-to-time, after all.”
          Before his Aunt responded, Harry shakenly let go of Mrs. Figg’s grocery cart and began walking towards his house. He knew that when his Uncle was in a foul mood, any attempt to avoid him just made matters worse. To top it off, his Aunt Marge was at least twice as worse as Vernon, with her dog Ripper literally having free run to attack him mercilessly. With the two of them combined, any chance of surviving their beatings were slim at best. However, Harry knew that there was no avoiding it, as he suspected that they were going to blame him for Dudley’s detention.
          “Once again, I apologize, Mrs. Figg.” Petunia responded as Harry began walking towards the house. As Harry walked, Lily slowly followed watching the smirk grow larger on Petunia’s face. As she saw the smirk on her sister’s face, her anger grew towards Petunia as they walked. “As I said before, Harry needs to pay his respects to Marge immediately. For him not to do so would be considered rude to Marge.”
          Harry reached the front door by that time and turned back to Mrs. Figg for a moment. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, Mrs. Figg, but my Aunt is right about Marge. I need to go in and say ‘hi’. Maybe next time, Mrs. Figg. I’m really sorry that I couldn’t help.”
          Mrs. Arabella Figg watched Harry enter his house as she feared the absolute worst. As soon as Petunia closed the front door behind her, Mrs. Figg turned on her heel, and pulling her cart, ran towards her home with the speed of someone half her age. She knew she had to try to reach Dumbledore was again and tell him about Harry’s abuse. She had to try.
          Back inside the Dursley’s home, Harry was instantly grabbed by Vernon by his hair and thrown against the wall. Harry groaned in pain as Vernon grabbed his belt that he used constantly on Harry that hung next to the broom cupboard, and walked menacingly towards Harry with a sadistic grin. As he did so, Lily silently wept as she curiously looked over at Marge as she was looking towards Vernon’s and Harry’s direction holding a gold compass in one hand and a complete black colored tambourine in the other. Vernon, after grabbing Harry’s hair again, turned to his sister and asked: “Well, Marge? What do you think? Does this worthless Mudblood have it or not?”
Harry blinked as he heard his ghostly mother gasped loudly at the word ‘Mudblood’ but everyone else laughed at him at being called that. Harry didn’t know what the actual word meant, but the way his mother sounded, he knew it was an insult. However, something else was bothering him: why was Marge Dursley holding a compass and a weird looking tambourine? And what was does about them wondering what he had? What was it? And why do they want to know about it?
          Marge stopped laughing as she looked at her compass, then with a smile looked down next to her leg, where Ripper was glaring intently at Harry’s direction. “Ripper?” She said quite sweetly to her main sweat-heart. “Would you be a good boy for Mummy and seek out the magical entity for me?”
          A completely new level of fear and terror entered Harry as the realization of them having knowledge somehow about Lily helping him recently came into his mind. Not only did they know about him having help from Lily, but they were after her this time as well as him. He looked up at his Uncle Vernon, who only smiled and nodded his affirmation.
          As Ripper stopped right in front of Lily, he barked happily towards his ‘mother’ before growling at Lily. Lily cautiously took a step back, and when she did, Ripper moved even closer towards her, growling even louder as he did. Lily was in trouble and she knew it. She knew that Vernon, Petunia, and Marge couldn’t see or hear her, but somehow Marge’s dog could somehow.
          “Oh yes, boy.” Marge spoke with a shrilly laugh. “We know that you have magic, just as both of your parents had. However, a book flying around in the classroom with you outside with Dudley: that’s not possible, even for that oaf Dumbledore!”
          “Who’s Dumbledore?” Harry asked, wincing from Vernon’s grip tightening on his hair.
          “Silence, you Mudblood!” Vernon growled at him, nearly banging Harry’s head against the wall. He then turned to Marge and smiled at her. “Please continue, my love.”
          “Thank you, dear.” She said back to him. Turning her attention back to Harry, she continued: “You see Mudblood, magic only works sight-to-sight, and there was no fucking way you could see the inside of your classroom from where you were. That’s means that there’s something or someone helping you when you most need it, and we have a good idea as to whom it might be!”
          *“Petunia, dear, why don’t you go pick up Dudley?”* Vernon said to his wife, not taking his eyes off of his nephew. Terrified as Harry was, he was kind of amazed at Vernon talking almost in a musical way to Petunia, as she smiled sweetly at her husband and walked back out the front door, literally passing through her own sister unknowingly.
          After she left, Marge frowned at her brother. “She should stay and watch, Vernon. It will give her proper closure concerning her sister.”
          “She’s not ready yet, Marge.” Vernon said simply, yanking Harry by his hair now over to his sister. “Besides, we really don’t know if this entity is Lily. All we can do is guess.”
          “No, Vernon. We can do so much more than that.” Marge said with finality. She then looked back in the direction of where her dog was keeping Lily’s spirit at bay, as she raised the black tambourine and said: “Do you hear me, entity? We have searched for and have destroyed these things like this Mudblood here and whatever you are for centuries. You and your kind are simply not welcome in our world, and this will prove it!”
          “Harry, no matter what happens, know that I love you.” Lily told her son, feeling like there was no escape from whatever was coming. “If you get the chance, Harry, run and don’t ever look back. Go to Mrs. Figg, she’ll take you to somewhere safe, I’m sure of…OWWWW!”
          Lily’s screams could only be heard by Harry, as Marge shook the black colored musical object like it was possessed. The tambourine made no sound at all from Harry’s perspective, but looking at his mother, he knew it was causing her great pain.
          “Stop!” Harry shouted at Marge, begging her with his tearful eyes. “Take me! Kill me if you want! Don’t do this to my mother!”
          Both Marge and Vernon just laughed as Lily dropped down to her knees, screaming in sheer pain grabbing her head tightly. As Harry cried, Lily’s form started to flicker slowly, her screams becoming less and less audible. It was then that Harry started to feel something he never really felt in a strong form before: hate. He hated what was happening to his ghostly mother, the only one who truly helped him make the last two years bearable. He hated what Vernon and Marge were doing, simply because they felt they had the right and that they enjoyed doing so. Most of all, he hated himself for not standing up to any of them. After all, his mum told him that he was a wizard, and he had magic, so why couldn’t he do anything to help.
          “Stop it!” Harry kept screaming over and over, as both Vernon and Marge kept laughing. “Stop it! Stop It! Stop! STOP! STOP IT! I SAID STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”

**********************************************************
Across the street-Same time

          Arabella Figg was pacing furiously across her living room, right in front of a blank portrait. On the bottom, there was a small silver plague that read Alexander Matthew Figg: Minister of Magic and former Headmaster of Hogwarts, 1791-1919. Her great-grandfather was one of the greatest wizards of his age, her father told her, before Grindelwald murdered him right after the first world war ended. This was something she used to take pride in, and felt that he was the one person that she truly disappointed when she discovered that she was a squib. Now, the family portrait, which was bequeathed to her twenty years ago, after her father died, was the quickest was she knew to get in touch with Dumbledore.
          As she waited, she thought back to all she had seen from across the street where The Boy Who Lived lived. Harry’s malnutrition, his raggy and baggy clothing, as well as the bruises and scars that even a half-blind person could see on him. All that clearly told her that this was not a safe environment for the young Harry Potter. This made Arabella question Dumbledore’s motives as well as his original decision to leave him in that house. She knew that Harry’s godfather was not an option, but his godmother still could have been. What’s more, Alice was a brilliant witch, almost as brilliant as Harry’s mother, Lily. Also, with Neville Longbottom next to Harry, he would have a real sense of family, even after the death of Frank nearly seven years ago. However, Dumbledore explained to her that Alice Longbottom would simply have too much to handle, trying to raise both Neville and Harry. So, while secretly she thought that was complete Thestral crap, Arabella kept watch and did whatever she could to protect the seven-year-old.
          “Hello, my dear Arabella.” The well-fit elderly man said after her appeared back into his portrait. “I’m afraid that I have no new orders from Headmaster Dumbledore.”
          “How can this be, Great-Grandfather?” Arabella immediately stopped and looked directly at his portrait. She was clearly angry at this point, but still spoke to him with the upmost respect. “He should know what’s going on in that house! Harry Potter is someone who needs to be protected at all costs! How can he do this? Even an orphanage is better compared to these people.”
          “I agree, Great-Granddaughter.” The portrait responded. “However, as Albus Dumbledore is his magical guardian, he does unfortunately have the final say as to where Harry Potter must live. I don’t like it, my sweet Arabella, but as you know, it is magical law.”
          “The Law Is Wrong!” She snapped angrily, surprising even herself at how loud she had gotten. After taking a deep breath, she looked at her Great-Grandfather. “I’m sorry, sir. I know that I shouldn’t…”
          Just then, right at that exact point, a violent Earthquake shook the town of Surrey as streets were torn apart, house crumbled like they were made of gingerbread, cars had literally rolled into either large craters that opened all over, or into intersections where they hit other cars violently, fires and explosions had come in waves across several of the main streets as well as some residential areas, and all generators all over the town instantly overheated and had burnt down on their own. While no one knew, or could even guess where this disaster was centered, Arabella and Alexander Figg had a very good idea where, and who. Once the aftershocks had finally faded, Arabella managed to shove off the rubble and grab her Great-Grandfather’s portrait. Her house was gone, as well as most of the houses on Privet Drive. As the sun slowly began to set, her eyes darted across the street to see a small, skinny boy with glasses somehow over the rubble that was the Dursley’s home, balled up holding his knees tightly against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. And all across the street, everybody, her included, were compelled to say the boy’s name:
          “Harry Potter.”
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The Corruption of Lily Potter