The battle was over, but the war had just begun.
But the silence it left behind was not peace.
Smoke curled through the shattered arches of the Hall of Fire, rising like the breath of a dying god. Stone walls bled, scorched with magic. Broken wands lay scattered across the ground like bones.
Lucius knelt in blood and rubble, his once-elegant robes torn and blackened. His hands trembled where they hovered above Severus's chest. The Beta's body was still. Too still.
"Severus," Lucius whispered, voice cracking. "Don't do this. Not now."
Snape's eyes fluttered open—but barely.
His voice was a ghost: "You always… cry after battle?"
Lucius gave a hoarse, broken laugh, lowering his forehead to Snape's. "Only when I nearly lose the only damn thing that matters."
Footsteps echoed behind them—slow, limping.
Narcis. His silver cloak dragged like mist, his arm singed and dripping blood.
"He needs St. Mungo's," Narcis said, scanning Snape's wounds. "Now."
"He needs me," Lucius replied, not moving.
The sexual tension between them—palpable. Raw. Bruised.
But it was Lillian's absence that chilled the air.
James stood nearby, chest heaving, wand loose in his grip. "Where is he?"
No one answered.
Sirius paced like a caged wolf. "He ran. After everything, that bastard vanished."
Remus only murmured: "No… he didn't run. He's repositioning."
Then—a sound.
A hum, soft and haunting, rising from deep within Hogwarts' veins.
And Lillian appeared.
Not walking. Not flying.
He stepped from a slit in the world. As if reality had simply peeled back to let him pass.
Blood smeared his throat. His wand dripped with something too dark to name. Magic swirled around him like smoke.
"Did you miss me?" he asked, like a child asking if anyone noticed he was gone.
James raised his wand. "You did this."
Lillian smiled—slow, wide, wolfish.
"No," he said. "We did."
And then—
A voice. Cold. Familiar.
Voldemort.
But wrong.
Weaker. Wounded. But still present.
"Lillian…"
Lucius stood slowly, pulling Severus with him. "He's not dead."
"No," Lillian said. "But Dumbledore is."
The silence hit like thunder.
Sirius collapsed to his knees.
James turned away.
Narcis whispered a spell of mourning.
Lucius's grip on Snape tightened—then loosened. He couldn't breathe.
Severus, too weak to stand, said only, "No."
Lillian's eyes never left Lucius.
"You thought he was your enemy," he said. "But you never saw the truth."
"And what is that?" Lucius asked hoarsely.
Lillian tilted his head.
"That there are no heroes left. Only survivors."
Then he vanished again—this time leaving behind a mark scorched into the stone:
The Eye of Awakening.