She kept adjusting her robes nervously, wanting to appear her absolute best for the reunion.
In the sky, several Thestral-drawn carriages were approaching Hogwarts. On the journey there, the first-years had experienced the thrill of flying vehicles. On the return trip, however, the excitement had faded, replaced by somber discussion of the recent conflict.
In the rear compartment of a carriage, Draco, Harry Potter, and Hermione sat together, reflecting on past events. Harry had been present for every critical moment, and thankfully, the scar on his forehead had vanished completely. After Erwin employed a specialized method to extract the fragment of Voldemort's soul from Harry's body, the lightning bolt mark disappeared. So did Parseltongue and the other abilities the Dark Lord had inadvertently granted him.
Erwin had explained everything to Harry, who didn't mourn the loss. On the contrary, he felt lighter than he had in years. At least, the nightmares were gone. Ever since Voldemort's resurrection, Harry had been plagued by visions, witnessing events from the Dark Lord's perspective. The only exception was Voldemort's time at Hogwarts; those memories remained locked away, which had complicated Erwin's work initially. Eventually, Erwin had even consulted Voldemort himself after the Dark Lord recovered some of his Horcruxes. With his rationality restored, Voldemort sensed the connection and, in a rare act of self-preservation, severed it permanently, blocking Harry from accessing his consciousness.
"I can't believe Ron is gone," Hermione said, her voice thick with sorrow.
Draco shrugged dismissively. "He was foolish. He's dead, so what? He was unlucky. He chose to align with those ordinary wizards instead of the Hogwarts Resistance. It was his own mistake."
Hermione nodded reluctantly. "True, but he was still our classmate. We spent years together."
Draco fell silent, though internally he was satisfied by the outcome.
Harry stared out the window, quiet. Ron had been his first friend in the wizarding world, holding a significance that even their later arguments couldn't erase entirely. The news of his death had left Harry in a state of profound shock.
Suddenly, Harry gasped, clutching his chest urgently.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, alarmed.
"I don't know," Harry said, pressing a hand to his sternum. "It's a strange sensation. Like... excitement. Or anticipation. I can't explain it properly."
Hermione frowned. "We should have Erwin examine you. It might be a residual effect from the injuries you sustained during the final battle."
Harry nodded, though the sensation was intensifying steadily.
Up in the front carriage, Snape heard fragments of their conversation. He turned to observe Harry, then instinctively placed a hand over his own heart. He felt it too—a strange, rhythmic pull he couldn't identify.
"Hey, look!" a student shouted from another carriage. "Isn't that Head Prefect Erwin?"
A group of Slytherin students leaned out eagerly. "It's him! And who's that standing beside him?"
Professor McGonagall, curious, glanced out the window. Her eyes widened in absolute shock.
"Good heavens," she whispered. "Lily?"
Snape, hearing the name, shot to his feet. He scrambled to the window, his robes billowing. Below, standing beside Erwin, was the very figure he had spent over a decade longing for.
Snape's eyes turned instantly red-rimmed. "Lily," he croaked hoarsely. "She's returned."
Harry scrambled to the window, spotting the familiar red hair. "Mum!" he cried out, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's my mum!"
Harry had seen Lily before—in the Mirror of Erised, and later when Erwin had located her soul. But this was fundamentally different.
Hermione and Draco stared, mouths agape. They had heard Erwin promise to resurrect Harry's mother, but they had never truly believed it possible. Resurrecting the deceased seemed too far beyond even Erwin's extraordinary capabilities. They had assumed it would require decades, if it happened at all. Yet, here she stood.
Harry, overwhelmed with emotion, burst into tears of pure joy.
Professor McGonagall and the other professors were stunned speechless. Lily's death had been a tragedy, a wound in Hogwarts' history. But while they had mourned, they had eventually moved forward. Now, however, observing Snape's transformation was their focus. Since the Christmas ball, Snape had emerged from the shadows, his glacial demeanor thawing. The professors had rejoiced for him. And now, Lily had actually returned.
Below, watching the carriages descend, Lily's breathing grew rapid and shallow. She stared excitedly as the vehicles slowed and gently touched down on the Quidditch pitch.
The doors opened.
Harry was the first out, sprinting toward her. "Mum!"
Lily's tears fell silently as he threw his arms around her. She embraced him tightly, feeling the solid, warm weight of her son. She could finally touch him, hold him properly. In that moment, Lily felt like the most fortunate woman in existence.
McGonagall and several others were already wiping away tears discreetly.
Snape disembarked, walking slowly toward them. Erwin noticed his body trembling, his lips quivering as he stared at Lily, afraid to blink. It was the expression of a man terrified that closing his eyes would make the vision vanish.
Snape stopped several feet away. His voice was barely a whisper.
"Lily?"
Harry and Lily broke their embrace, turning to face him. Lily looked at Severus and offered a gentle, weary smile.
"It's me, Severus," she said softly. "I'm back."