And suddenly I find myself listening to a man I've never known before, telling me about the sea,
Oh his love is to eternity.

(Kate Bush, The Man With The Child in His Eyes)

Lily clicked off the light and felt her way back to bed. She was exhausted. She and James had just moved into their new home and consequently, their life was still teeming out of overstuffed storage boxes. It was through this mess that Lily had to negotiate her path. After touching upon piles of cardboard and random objects that littered her way, her hand finally hit something soft and she smiled. With a small groan and a leap she climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up around her and her husband. He opened his eyes to look at her blearily in greeting. She moved her hand to smooth down his hair, which was sticking, as it always did, up in every possible direction.

"You're a mess," she murmured absently. The light from the streetlamp outside filtered through their thin curtains, illuminating their features just enough to make out expression. James yawned.

"You're one to talk," he said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Rude."

James grinned playfully and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He swept a gentle hand across her neck and brought it to rest there, stroking the nape with his thumb. "Go to sleep, Lil. You look exhausted."His eyes slipped closed again and he drew his arm away but Lily pinched him awake. He took hold of her hand, entwining his fingers with hers and pulled her closer. "Lily?" he said slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. "Are you propositioning me?" he asked, his voice half-caught in another yawn.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"You should be so lucky." She turned and curled up into him, tugging his arm around her waist. She felt his nose as he nuzzled it into her neck, leaving the most gentle of kisses as he held her close. After a few minutes, his breathing slowed and Lily squirmed in the silence.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't sleep."

He yawned again. "I've noticed," came his sleepy, mumbled reply.

She rolled over and looked at him apologetically. Her knees knocked his a little as she faced him.

He sighed and looked at her sadly. "What?"

"Talk to me."

"About what?"

"I don't know. Anything. Everything. I can't stand silence, it's-" She tailed off, scared of her voice cracking.

James reached out towards her and brushed her hair back off her shoulder. "Shh, alright. Close your eyes." He smiled and brought his hand to rest upon her bare waist in a small act of comfort. He knew she was worried. She was always worried nowadays. He shuffled in closer, so they were almost nose to nose as he spoke, his own eyes closed too.

"When this is over, I know exactly where I'm taking you Lil. We won't have to worry about any Order or any Evil Lord Ugly…we'll be safe at last." His hand stroked her waist down to her hip gently.

"Have I ever told you about my house in Dover?"

Lily shook her head, her eyes still tightly closed.

"It was my uncle's but he died when I was 12. He didn't have any family apart from us and so we've had the house ever since." He smiled a little wistfully to himself, though Lily didn't see it. "It's very nice. Blue painted window frames, shutters, stupid noisy wind-chimes that we can't take down. You'd love it. And it's right near the sea. You can hear the waves from the main bedroom." He took a deep, hopeful breath and nestled into his pillow. "When this is all over, we'll go there. You, me – and the baby."

Lily opened her eyes and looked at her husband. His eyes were shut but not screwed shut as hers had been. He looked peaceful as he talked about this house they were going to see. He looked more trusting and optimistic about the future than Lily could ever remember being. It reassured her, filling her up with more warmth than Dumbledore's increasingly empty words could. Her husband was so sure they would live to see this house – how could she disagree with such reckless hope? Sighing mellifluously, she curled up against him again, rolling over in his arms and wrapping him around her. She kissed him softly on the hand as she finally closed her eyes.

"I love you, James Potter," she whispered, almost imperceptibly as her voice mixed with the comforting, steady sounds of her husband sleeping. It was only when she was falling asleep herself that she felt the small squeeze of her hand in reply. And for the first time in weeks, the sun rose over not one sleeping Potter but two, lovingly pressed together as they remained blissfully ignorant of the troubles that would continue to keep them awake in the not-so-distant future.