If Lily had ever bothered to ask, or even do her own research, she would have learned the truth of the potion she had taken. The potestas de maiores potion roughly translated to power of the ancestors potion.
Very little was known about it though, and no one had ever accurately manage to determine how it worked since its creator died after taking it and being overwhelmed by the power and his core ruptured.
In her ignorance and blind trust in Albus Dumbledore, Lily kept sending James away during the full moon and would take another vial of the potion. Every time was worse then the last, but Lily was not going to stop following the request of the great Albus Dumbledore himself. The man was only trying to ensure that her child was safe, who was she to question that?
One of the things that Lily didn’t know was that Dumbledore had had the potion keyed to James’s blood, so it would only effect the child and not her. That was the only reason she was still alive. Children, especially infants could adapt much faster to things. And since the baby’s core hadn’t yet settled, it could accommodate the sudden influxes of more power.
Another thing that she didn’t know was that she was being observed. When a witch or wizard died they didn’t just cease to exist, most just moved on to the next plain.
This plain, often referred to among wizards as the Fields of Asphodel, was where they went. Most remained there for a while to watch over their children and families. It usually took time for them to let go of their mortal lives, and only once they did that could they move on to the Fields of Elysium and find true peace.
Amongst those watching over their descendants was none other than Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, and they were both furious with what they saw.
In life, neither had felt truly comfortable with Lily Evans, but upon seeing just how happy she made their son they overlooked it. But not anymore. For you can not hide anything from the dead.
They watched as Lily took the potion that was risking the life of their grandchild. And that just wasn’t acceptable.
The reality of the potion was that it in itself wasn’t what caused the increase in core strength, it was merely the catalyst. It was the souls of the dead that supplied the power. The person taking the potion would only survive so long as their ancestors were watching and had enough strength to help stabilize them by giving them some of their own power.
And that was what had happened the first two times Lily had taken the potion. Euphemia and Fleamont had both used what little remaining power their souls had to support the child.
But by the third time they were getting too weak. That was when they turned to their other family members. Between this war and the last almost their entire families had been wiped out, only James and the baby survived from the Potter line, and as tragic as that was, it meant there were many souls around that could help support the child.
As the months went by more and more relatives came to assist James Potter’s unborn child. But as the due date was closing in, they were all getting too weak.
That was when Lady Euphemia Potter née Fawley decided it was time to stop playing around and get serious. When she had been living Euphemia had compiled the family history of the family she had become a part of, having always had an interest in history and genealogy. Because of that she knew just who it was her husband was descended from.
When most moved from the Fields of Asphdel to the Fields of Elysium they were ready to move on, that meant they could not return for the most part. This was not true for the truly infuriated woman. She was going to save the life of her grandchild if it was the last thing she did.
As another full moon approached, and she watched as her trusting son was once again sent away Euphemia knew what was going to happen next. Leaving her husband and the others to watch over Lily and hopefully sustain the baby until she got back, Euphemia crossed over to the next plain.
Going high up into the mountains she found the temple where the most powerful witches and wizards to ever live had taken up residence, and she stormed in.
“And just who are you?” An imperious woman demanded. She was a stunning woman dressed in a jewel bright purple dress with light blue sheer sleeves wearing an emerald green over cloak that perfectly matched her eyes. Her dark hair was up and twisted around a tiara that sat upon her head. She looked both like a delicate beauty and warrior queen all at the same time.
“My name is Euphemia Potter née Fawley and I have come to request your aid.” Euphemia stared down the other woman whose eyes reminded her of the hated Lily Evans.
“And why do you come to us?” Asked a man that seemed both young and old. His dark hair framing his face with beautiful blue eyes.
“My son is currently the last living descendant of Ignotus Peverell and last living descendant of the main line of Godric of Gryffindor. But there is hope that he will not be the end of the lines. My sons wife is with child, but the child is in grave danger.” Euphemia started to explain. “In life I never fully trusted the girl, but I held my tongue when I saw how happy she made my little boy, now I wish I hadn’t.
That… Woman has taken potestas de maiores every month for the last six months. We have done what we can to save the child, but she is planning to do it again… this very night. We no longer have enough power, so I have come to you for aid. Help me save my grandchild.”
“Why has your son not stopped her.” The green eyed woman demanded in a fury. Any form of harm to a child enraged her, as it always had.
Euphemia glared back. “One of my son’s best friends is ill. Every month she sends him away to help care for his friend under the guise of kindness.”
“You seem to dislike my friend, may I question as to why that is?” Another man, dressed in green and silver questioned.
“It is her eyes. They remind me of that womans.” Euphemia all but snarled.
“She has my eyes?” The green eyed woman questioned in interest. “Come, you will take me with you. If she has my eyes she may be a descendent of mine. And, despite how distasteful it might be to be connected to such a loathsome woman, no matter how far removed, then I too may offer magic and assistance to the child.
The rest of you will be coming with me.”
None of the others even tried to argue with the imperious voice that the woman had employed to command them. The blue eyed man in particular seemed to find it entertaining based off the smile he wore. The same was true for the blond with blue eyes, he wasn't a wizard himself, but he was a loving brother and wanted to see the chaos his half-sister was about to cause.
Morgana Pendragon, more commonly known as Morgana Le Fay, was incensed as she looked down upon a woman that was indeed descended from her. How could one of her blood have sunk so low?
Reaching her hand out over the viewing pool that they were using to watch the scene unfold Morgana was ready to punish this despicable creature. But, before she could, her arm was yanked back by her blue eyed companion.
“You mustn’t Morgana.”
“Why ever not Merlin?” Morgana demanded in a hushed tone. “This woman is harming a child. I will not allow her to share a connection with me.”
“If you strip her of what little of your family magics she may have now then the child shall suffer too. All I say is be patient, for once. Wait until the child is born. Then you may strip her of the connection without risking the child.”
Morgana huffed a sigh, but accepted the advice from a man she had almost never listened to in life.
Everyone watched as Lily got comfortable and once again took the potion. And like always, they fed their power into the core of the child to stabilize it. And again, the child survived the night.
Only four days later they all watched as the ever trusting James Potter called to his friends as he helped to get his wife to the hospital.
The time had finally arrived for the child to be born.