Okay. I wrote this one years ago...who knows how many. Forgive it for its mistakes. And, of course, it disregards the flashback we had in Deathly Hallows about how Lily and James were murdered. This is my version. Or, a younger me's version, anyway. I'm not overly attached, but hey. Whatever works.

JKR owns everything, I own nothing.

ON THAT NIGHT

"Sirius!" James greeted his friend with a clap on the back and a smile. Sirius returned the greeting, his handsome face pinched and pale from lack of sleep.

"How are you?" he asked, looking in concern at his best friend.

James shrugged. "The same as last time you came. Bored, but not ready to risk my life quite yet." Sirius smiled. "Good. Wouldn't want you to."

"Hey, listen," James led the way into the living room and sat down on the couch. "I was wondering…have you heard anything more about...well…"

"About the spy." Sirius finished, collapsing on the other end of the couch. "No. No more leads, nothing. Though I think we'll be a bit safer now, as I switched duties with Peter."

"I hope so," James nodded. "If you're sure you still want to follow through with it. This puts you in more danger, you realize."

"Yes," Sirius said. "But at least I don't have a wife and family, like you do. I'd do anything to keep you, Lily, and Harry safe. Especially Harry. He still has his whole life ahead of him. We've got to keep that intact."

James nodded agreement, and they lapsed into silence. Then James spoke again, rubbing his chin with one hand.

"Have you told Remus what we did?"

Sirius looked at him quickly. "I thought we had decided not too. Just in case."

"Yes, I know," James interrupted. "But it just seems wrong. We've never kept secrets from each other before."

"It's for your own safety," Sirius reminded him softly. "If we're wrong, and Remus is, well, innocent, then we'll tell him, and back it up with full apologies. But if we're right…" he let the sentence dangle. James sighed.

"I suppose you're right. I still don't like it though. I just don't think he's the one. It's always possible, but he doesn't seem like the type to turn Death Eater."

"I agree." Sirius mused. "But I still think that there is a distinct possibility, and it's probable. I'm not going to take any chances. Not with something this important."

Silence fell again, and then Sirius stirred. "I can't stay too much longer, James, I've got other business to attend to before the night ends. I wanted to drop these off, though," he reached a hand into his robes and pulled out a sheaf of parchment. James groaned.

"Not more finances!"

Sirius grinned. "I'm afraid so. Come on, I thought this is how you made yourself of use! Not the most interesting of jobs, I'll grant you, but it's a tremendous help, I'll tell you. It means I don't have to do it." He grinned and ducked as James sent a book spinning at him. He tossed the parchment at James, who caught it.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said. "Hey, before you go, do you want something to eat?"

"No thanks," Sirius stood up and stretched. "I would like to see Harry, though. Haven't seen him for a few days."

"All right. He's upstairs. I'll have Lily bring him down." James took a deep breath and yelled, "Lily! Sirius is here, he wants to see Harry!"

Sirius laughed. "Usually that means that you'd quietly go up and tell her that I wanted to see Harry. I could've done that myself."

James grinned. "I know. But this is much quicker." The mood changed quickly from the sober attitude that had prevailed earlier, to light and cheerful. Emotions such as these didn't come nearly as often as they used to, and the old Marauders were enjoying it. Footsteps came down the stairs, and Lily came into view, carrying Harry in her arms. She frowned at James, though her eyes were dancing.

"How many times have I told you, James, if you want me, come get me. Don't yell through the house."

"But I didn't want you, Lily, I wanted Harry," James said, managing to keep his face straight. "But of course, it is lovely to see you as well, dear," he added hastily, as Sirius roared with laugher, and Lily glowered menacingly. Lily walked over to Sirius, handed Harry to him, and then turned to James. She stepped up to him until she was an inch from his face, and then breathed,

"You'd better watch your mouth, James Potter. Sometime, something you say might just…backfire."

"Point taken," James said; the image of a contrite husband. "I understand, Lily."

"You'd better. And don't forget this time." Lily stepped away and sat down on the arm of a chair, watching Sirius play with Harry. He had transformed into a dog, and was bounding around Harry and nipping lightly at him. Harry was squealing in delight; he loved it when his father's friends transformed into animals. They were so much easier to pick on.

Sirius finally straightened up and turned back into a man, breathing hard and smiling. "I'll drop by in a few days," He told James. "Give you more of our finances."

"Oh joy. Can't wait," James muttered. Sirius grinned and bowed low to Lily with a great flourish.

"If you can mange to keep him in line until I get back," he whispered to her, "I'll be deeply surprised. I wish you luck."

"Thank you, Sirius. At least you have manners." She emphasized the last word, glaring meaningfully at James. James gasped.

"My dear, you don't know how that cuts me," he said, dropping onto the couch. "I most certainly have manners; I just choose not to use them." He picked up Harry from the floor and looked him in the eye. "Do you think I don't have manners as well?"

Harry cocked his head to one side, and then laughed and batted his father's face with one small hand. James groaned. "My whole family is against me. How can one manage to survive against such odds?"

Sirius laughed and clapped him on the back. "You can do it, mate. I have faith in you—to a certain extent. I'll see you later." He left, closing the front door carefully behind him.

James ran a hand through his black hair as he bent over the parchment on his desk. He was distinctly frustrated. He was balancing the Order's finances, and nothing was coming out right. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, thinking hard.

"Having trouble?" Lily came up behind him and kissed him on the cheek.

"No," James replied. "Just frustrated. Nothing's working out."

"I'd classify that as having trouble," Lily smiled. "Maybe I can help." She bent over the parchment as well, her long red hair brushing the tabletop. She studied the calculations for a moment, and then pointed to a spot halfway up the parchment. "Here. You must have multiplied wrong."

James heaved a sigh and put his glasses back on, scratching out the offending sum and rewriting it. "Thank you. You were always better at this sort of thing than I was."

"I grew up in a muggle home," Lily said. "I should be." She squeezed his shoulder and stood up. "I'm going to go put Harry to bed, how much longer are you going to be?"

"Not too long. Another twenty minutes or so."

"All right." Lily left the room, closing the door to the small office behind her. For a while, the only sound in the room was the scratching of James's quill on the parchment. The lights grew dimmer as the sun sank below the horizon. James flicked on a lamp and continued to work. Finally, twenty-five minutes later, he set down his quill and heaved a sigh of relief. There wasn't much he could do for the Order, being trapped in Godric's Hollow, but keeping track of the Order's paperwork was one thing he could. He rolled up the parchment and slid it into a drawer, and then turned out the lamp and left the cluttered room.

James climbed the narrow staircase to the bedrooms upstairs, but stopped at the landing. He could hear the usual nighttime noises coming from the bedroom at the end of the hall—cooing and laughing from Lily and giggling from Harry as she tickled him. James crept down the hall and came to a stop at the open door of the bedroom. Lily was on the floor, holding Harry up as she blew in his face. Her long hair nearly touched the floor from her position, and James felt a rush of safety and security. This feeling didn't happen very often, not with Voldemort after them, but when it came, it was very welcome.

James walked silently into the room, and then knelt down and took Lily into his arms. She gave a short scream of surprise, and then turned and whacked him on the arm. "Why do you always do that?" She demanded, as James laughed.

"Because I love your reaction," James said. Harry was watching his parents with an inquisitive look, and James smiled. "And who's going to grow up to look just like his daddy? Yes, and if we're lucky, act like him too!"

"Heaven forbid!" Lily laughed. She turned around and leaned her head against her husband's shoulder. James encircled his wife and son in his arms, feeling comfortably happy. "One of you is enough around here, thank you!"

"What?" James looked hurt. "Admit it, Lily. You can't wait until Harry's old enough to be just like me."

"We can hope that he skips the stage you went through in school, however," Lily said. "He can be a cute little boy, and then skip to what you are now. That would be fine with me."

"I suppose we'll have to train him at an early age," James said. "It'll be hard, he's got my genes."

"Or we can hope that he turns out like me," Lily said. "He has got my eyes; maybe he'll be lucky and inherit my personality instead of yours."

"Another one like you around?" James said in mock-horror. "Your temper is the death of me, Lily! Perhaps I should just commit to monk-hood if he turns out like you!"

Lily raised a hand to hit him again, but James caught it and kissed it instead. "You know I don't mean a word of what I say, don't you?" He murmured.

"Yes, I know," Lily whispered. "I love you, James Potter."

"I love you." They sat there for a moment, and then James stirred. "Time to say good night to my son." He loved the sound of those words. My son. Even though Harry was almost a year old, the wonder of being a father had never worn off. James took Harry from Lily and tossed him up in the air, making Harry laugh as James caught him. James swung his son up and around, setting Harry gently on his back. Then James took off around the edge of the room, snorting and tossing his head. Harry giggled with delight as he bounced up and down on James's back. Lily had forbidden James to carry Harry on his back as a stag, but Harry still loved James's imitations.

After Harry was settling down, quite some time later, James took him off of his back and leaned against the wall with Harry in his arms. Then he transformed into a huge stag, with Harry leaning up against his soft hair. The stag encircled his legs around Harry's small body and dipped his head so that Harry could feel his antlers. Harry giggled softly as he touched the hard bone, and then settled down to sleep against the stag's stomach. Lily watched tenderly, and then stood and walked over to the stag, sitting down beside it and stroking its back. The stag nuzzled her and she laughed. Life was good. Life was hard, but good.

Lily set Harry in his crib and left the room, turning out the light and half closing the door. She stepped across the hall and entered the dimly lit bedroom that she and James shared. James was sitting on the bed in his shirt sleeves, his slacks rolled up and his feet bare. He appeared to be deep in thought, and Lily walked over to him and sat down beside him, gently rubbing his shoulders.

"What are you thinking?"

James stirred. "About Harry. I don't want him to grow up like this, Lily," he said suddenly, his voice layered with intensity. Lily could tell that he had been thinking about this for quite some time. "I don't want him to grow up secluded and without friends. I want him to play with other kids his age, and not live with the fear of Voldemort always hanging over his head. I want him to go to Hogwarts, and make life-long friends like I did. I want him to live a normal teenage life! Not hidden away in some house for the rest of his life."

Lily bowed her head. "I know, James. I want that for him too," she said softly. "And it will happen. Voldemort can't live forever. We will give him a normal life, I promise."

James closed his eyes and a tear trickled down his cheek. "I pray you're right," he said softly. "I can only pray you're right."

Late that night, James lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Lily lay asleep beside him, her breathing soft and regular. James rolled over and checked the clock. 10:56. James sighed and settled down under the covers, willing himself to go to sleep. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright again. He thought that he had heard someone downstairs…but maybe it had just been the normal creaking of the house. He lay back down gingerly, but then stopped. There it was again. Like a door closing or someone setting something down.

James slid out of bed without waking up Lily and pulled on his slacks and a cloak. He stepped out of the bedroom, but was stopped by Lily's voice.

"Where are you going?"

"Someone's downstairs," he whispered, trying to sound casual. "I'm going to go see who it is. Most likely Sirius, don't worry about it. I'll talk to him."

"Will you be okay?" Lily asked.

"Of course. Go back to sleep."

Lily lay back down, the bed creaking slightly. She didn't go back to sleep, however. She felt unsettled, uneasy. Something wasn't right, and she suddenly felt a stab of worry for her small son. She got up, wrapped a hooded cloak around her nightgown and left the room, going across the hall and entering her son's room. She walked silently over to the crib, and peered in at Harry, looking fondly at his sleeping form. She brushed a hand over his forehead and covered him more securely with the blanket. Then she left, tip toeing out of the room and going to the top of the stairs. She looked over the banister into the kitchen, where all was silent. Where was James?

Her heart stopped as she heard a terrified shout come from the living room. "NOOOOO! Peter, no!" Lily sprinted down the stairs, her heart thudding at every step. Something was very wrong. Peter…was he hurt? "Lily! Take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run, I'll hold him off!" The terrible shout echoed through the house, accompanied by flashes of light.

Lily gasped, and sobs tore at her throat. She turned and raced back up the stairs as James stumbled out of the living room, his wand flashing furiously. There was a burst of high, cold laughter that came from an unseen person that tore at Lily's heartstrings. Tears were running down her cheeks, tears of betrayal and anguish, and most of all, fears for her family. She burst into Harry's room, the door banging off the wall. Harry woke and began to cry, watching his mother with terror. Lily scooped up her son and ran back out of the room, picking up her wand on her way downstairs.

She reached the top of the stairs and froze. James lay on the floor, his wand halfway across the kitchen. A dark, hooded figure was standing over him, a long, thin wand pointed at James's chest. Lily screamed, but the tall figure didn't move. James's eyes flickered up to Lily, and they were full of despair and love. His lips mouthed the words, I love you, and then…

"Avada Kedavra!"

A green jet of light streaked out of Voldemort's wand. James's eyes rolled back and his head twisted to one side as Lily choked, feeling bile rise in her throat. Then one thought penetrated her panicking mind. Get Harry to safety.

Lily whirled around, Harry screaming in her arms. Voldemort laughed softly, his high, cold voice freezing Lily's insides. Lily ran down the dark hall and into Harry's bedroom. There she crouched, her arms trembling, her hand clamped over Harry's mouth. Then, as footsteps began to climb the stairs, she turned to Harry's crib and put him in it, where he promptly fell silent, his small hands wrapped around a blanket. She planted a kiss on his forehead, and then turned around, her wand held ready.

Voldemort stopped outside in the hallway, and then entered the dark room. Lily was trembling, yet she stood straight, her green eyes blazing. She wasn't going to let any harm come to Harry, not while she was alive.

"Stand aside, girl." The voice was high and triumphant, filled with menace.

"No," Lily said shakily. And then one thought penetrated her mind. He wants Harry…but why? "Not Harry, not Harry, please, not Harry…"

"Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside now…"

"Not Harry…please no, take me, kill me instead," Lily pleaded, aware that she was begging, and not caring. "I'll do anything!"

"Step aside, girl…" Voldemort was laughing, his wand was rising…Lily stepped in front of the crib, shielding Harry from view.

"NO! Please no! have mercy! Not Harry, please, not Harry!" Lily could feel tears running down her face, her wand was shaking in her hand, and Voldemort just stood there laughing. She raised her wand and sent a spell at Voldemort, who deflected it, and then whipped her wand out of her hand with his own spell. Lily turned and gathered Harry into her arms, knowing that she was going to get no mercy, her back towards Voldemort. She hugged him tightly, kissed the top of his head, and whispered words of comfort and love into his ear. The last thing she heard was the high, cold voice shrieking the death spell into the night, and then she collapsed on the floor, Harry tumbling out of her arms.

Harry sat there on the floor, gazing up at Voldemort with an innocent expression on his small face. He even smiled and raised his hands, hoping to be held. Voldemort merely laughed, and then shrieked,

"Avada Kedavra!"

The jet of green light hissed out of Voldemort's wand, striking Harry squarely on the forehead. The baby screamed in terror and pain, but it was lost in the horrible shrieking that came from the hooded figure. Writhing and twisting, smoking and going up in flames, the spectacle was terrible to see. The baby was unconscious, a pitifully small figure lying still on the floor. The drapes in the house caught fire as Voldemort burst into flame. The fire crept along the floor and walls of the house, coming close to burning the body of Lily Potter, yet not coming close enough.

Shouts and cries of alarm came from the street outside as the fire raged on. With a last desperate scream, Voldemort disappeared, gone, into the night. The only living soul left in the house was a small boy, huddled next to his mother's body. A boy with jet black hair and a thin, raw, lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

He was already famous.

fin

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