Author: Leelee
Rating: G
Summary: Two parents worry for their son's future.
Disclaimer: I don't know the characters; I'm just stealing them for a minute or two.
Note: This is the first Harry Potter ficlet I've put up here. Criticism very welcome.
She looked down at the child asleep in the crib. "He's so perfect," she whispered, gently stroking one chubby little cheek with her index finger. The baby stirred in his sleep and his hands clenched and unclenched for a moment, then went still again. The woman raised her head and looked into her husband's eyes. "So very perfect," she repeated.
The man wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders. "Yes," he agreed softly. He rested his chin on top of her hair, breathing in the strangely mingled scents of vanilla and strawberries. The couple stood together for a few minutes, watching their first-born sleeping soundly in his crib, short black hair sticking up all over his head.
Finally the woman broke the silence. "I know it's what every parent says," she began, "but I wish there was some way I could protect him forever, even after we're gone." She turned to face her husband and lover. "I want him to be safe. The world's such a dangerous place right now and it can only get worse as he grows up."
He kissed her forehead and smoothed back her auburn hair. "We'll protect him, my darling. He'll be safe, I promise. We'll find a way to keep him safe, always." He smiled and held his wife close. She sighed in his warm embrace, ignoring the ball of icy fear in her gut that warned her not to let her guard down too much.
"We won't let anything happen to him," he continued. "I'd give my life before I see him harmed in any way." An ominous chill ran down the woman's spine. She glanced back over at her son. Drool covered his chin, reflected in the soft glow from the lamp across the room. "I'd give my life," her husband said again, and his grip tightened around her.
In the crib, the baby murmured in his sleep, his legs moving slightly as he dreamed. The woman gave her husband one last peck on the lips, then bent down to kiss her son's cheek.
"Goodnight, my angel," she whispered. "My perfect little angel." She straightened up and walked out of the room. The man stood there for a few seconds longer before, he, too, turned to go.
Before he reached the door, he gave his dark-haired son one last look and called softly over his shoulder, "Goodnight, Sirius."