"Harry!" Lily cried, the ginger cat yowling in terror as her one-year-old son almost ran it over on his toy broomstick. The redhead chased after him, arms outstretched in futile attempt to scoop up the merry toddler as he zoomed about on his broom, hovering a foot from the carpet. "James, can't you keep him under control?"
James merely laughed, running a hand through his untidy shock of black hair.
"Lighten up, Lily, it's Halloween," he said, crossing his long legs as he lounged upon the sofa.
"Yes," she quipped, snatching and narrowly missing her son before he turned the corner into the hallway; she followed, sighing exasperatedly, "and you've given him far too much candy; just look at how much energy he has! It'll be bad for him!"
"He'll be fine," James replied, cleaning the lenses of his rectangular glasses on his jumper before replacing them on his nose. He closed his eyes, smiling contentedly; it didn't waver even as he heard a definite crash from the room next-door. In fact it widened into a rather toothy grin. "He's growing up to be more like me every day."
"That's not necessarily a good thing!" he heard Lily reply, and he let out a snort of laughter.
"He'll grow up to be a great quidditch player someday, you just wait and see, Lily. He's not going to hurt himself on that old toy. You just worry too much."
"And you worry too little," she said, reappearing in the doorway holding pieces of shattered china in one hand and her tiny son – his green eyes glinting with laughter – in the crook of her other arm, his own wrapped around her neck. James sat up, opening his eyes to smile devilishly at his son. "That was a gift from Petunia as well…"
"I never much liked it," he said, taking Harry from his mother's arms as she went in search of her wand. "Never did have very much taste; married that talking walrus, too, didn't she?"
"You mean Vernon?" Lily's voice called from the kitchen, where James could hear her pulling open drawers and closing them again. "I don't like him much, myself, but I suppose they never really liked you eith—aha!"
"What's not to like?" James asked, voice raised as if affronted.
"Reparo," she said, and there was the sound of china chinking quietly as it magically mended itself. The charming redhead walked back to the boys in the sitting room with the wand tucked behind her ear. She sat down beside her husband, wriggling her fingers stiffly.
"Mama!" Harry cooed, reaching his chubby arms towards her with hands outstretched. She smiled contentedly, picking up her son from James' lap and cradling him gently. He giggled softly, beaming up at his mother.
"He's learning fast, isn't he?" she said quietly, smiling down at her one joy.
"Smarter than his mum already."
"James," Lily intoned, raising her eyebrows at her husband. He winked, and after only a moment she seemed to crumble and start laughing. However, she soon became sober as her bright emerald eyes returned to her son's innocent face. The smile faded from her gentle lips, gaze saddening. "It's only a shame he might grow up without friends." She sighed, stroking a finger down Harry's fuzzy nose. "Even Petunia has a son now, growing up without any cares and friends living only a street away."
"Lily?"
She looked at James, smiling weakly - a smile without meaning.
"For the longest time Tuny was my only friend," she said, rocking her son with all the gentleness of a lullaby. "Because I was a witch, all my friends got scared of the things I could do. Until Severus spoke to me, I had no idea—"
"That old git," James grumbled, folding his arms moodily.
"Oh, can't you just forget about it?" Lily sighed, hitching Harry up in her arms.
"No."
"James."
"He called you a Mudblood, Lily!"
"Lots of people did," she said in a low voice, meek and rather sad. "Lots of the girls in Slytherin, every time they'd pass me. But Sev was always there, making me smile again." The corner of her lip tweaked a little at the memory. "It never hurt me, not at all; at least… not until he said it."
"Precisely."
"Oh, James, shut up," Lily sighed. "I let go of it, and you should too. Severus was the best friend I had at Hogwarts, and for five years it was proof that Slytherin and Gryffindor could be friends, and—"
"Snivellus!"
"What?" Lily looked down in shock at her son, beaming up at his father who began to laugh. "James, what-?"
"Good boy, Harry!" he laughed, scooping up the now giggling toddler and hugging him tightly. "See, Lily? I told you he was growing up to be more and more like me each day." The smile faded a little as Lily glowered at him, arms folded and finger tapping in such a way that told him he was in very deep trouble. "Something wrong?"
"You've been teaching Harry," she said in a slow, cold voice, gritting her teeth, "that Severus' name is actually Snivellus!? One of his first few words, and it's the insult you boys used to fling in his face as you dangled him upside down and removed his trousers?"
"I might have done," James shrugged, hugging Harry a little tighter as if using him as a type of shield from the angry glare of his wife; her hair, red and vibrant as fire, seemed every bit as hot as flame itself, fury crackling in her almond-shaped eyes.
"James Potter!" she shouted at her husband.
"Lily Evans!" her husband shouted back, mocking the tone of her anger.
"Snivellus!" their son shouted to both of them. James started laughing again, and Harry buried his plush face in his father's jumper. Lily sighed, slumping back into the sofa and glaring at the stack of Daily Prophet's on the coffee table, hand resting on her stomach. Finally, she clenched her eyes shut before opening them again.
"I want you two to make up."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You heard me," Lily said, crossing her legs. "You and Sev; I want you two to make up and become friends."
"Friends with Sour-grape-Snape? Lily, you've got to be kidding."
"I'm not you, James," she continued, turning her flaming head to look at him. "I don't joke around twenty-four hours a day."
"Did someone Confund you?"
"James Potter, I'm being completely serious."
"You mean to say you want me and Snivellus to—"
"His name is Severus!"
"But…" James paused, setting Harry down on the sofa beside him to keep him out of harm's way of Lily's violent wrath should it explode. He chose his next words carefully, "the… last time you two spoke, you asked him if he still wanted to be a Death Eater?"
"Yes."
"Did he deny it?"
Lily faltered, taking a deep breath. She let it run out slowly, momentarily closing her eyes.
"No…"
"Didn't you sever all ties with him that day?"
"I may have done," she said brusquely, "but that doesn't mean to say I still want to uphold our separation. James, I… I miss him."
"You miss that greasy old git?"
"James, language," Lily snapped, shushing Harry as he made a puzzled face at the new word. "I won't let you pass on any more bad words to our son!"
"Sorry."
"Oh, you will be," Lily muttered under her breath, fiddling distractedly with Harry's wisps of unruly black hair; she was occupied for a few moments, before she realised she couldn't put off conversation any longer. But, yes," she conceded, picking up her tiny son and settling him on her lap, "I miss him. Don't give me that look, James Potter, I have good reason to. How long was it that we were friends? Before I met you, we'd been together a very long time. It wasn't until O.W.L year that—"
"He called you a Mudblood."
"—your lot of 'Maurauder's' bullied him so relentlessly," she continued over him through gritted teeth. "Honestly, James, the things you did to Sev. It was no wonder he… um… snapped."
"Don't blame it all on me, Lily," James said, but he seemed to swipe around for a reasonable excuse. "I mean... S-Sirius did it every bit as much as me."
"And whose idea was it for him to do that?"
"...Mine..."
"I rest my case."
"Well... why not blame Remus - he was a prefect, after all, he should have stopped us."
"Oh, I'm so sick of all this passing blame around," Lily sighed, rubbing her fingers against her temple. "Can't you please just forget the past, James? This is so important to me..."
"Alright, I promise," her husband finally conceded, leaning over and kissing Lily gently on the cheek. "But what brought all this on?"
For a while the redhead said nothing, a hand lightly held over her stomach. She smiled.
"It's because I'm pregnant, James."
"That's wonderful!" James cried, hugging his wife and son, before hastily pulling back. "Wait, you don't want to call it Severus do you?"
"Of course not!"
"Sni-" Lily quickly put a hand over Harry's mouth before he could use his new favourite word.
"I just wanted Sev to, uh..." Lily paused for a moment. "Well, Sirius is Harry's godfather, and Peter is our secret-keeper, and Remus is away for the next year or so, so I was just... wondering if..."
"You want him to be their godfather?"
"James, don't take that tone with me; you promised."
"Oh, for the love of Merlin's underpants... alright."
"Did you actually just agree to something I said?"
"Yes..."
"That's probably the first time, ever."
"And undoubtedly the last."
The two laughed heartily, before Lily planted a kiss on her husband's cheeky lips. The clock on the wall began to chime, and James looked at it.
"It's getting late," he said, pushing himself to his feet.
"I'll put the cat out," Lily replied, also standing as she placed her son temporarily on the sofa. James turned to the nearest window and took hold of the curtains, suppressing a yawn, before his face twisted in a frown. He could see a dark, hooded figure approaching their front gate. With the Fidelius charm in place, James expected them to turn by and walk on, but they did not; instead he saw a pale-skinned hand take hold of the latch, glowing iridescant in the moonlight, and the figure began walking up the path towards the quaint little cottage that would otherwise have looked like a ramshackle ruin. James knew with the sinking of his heart who it was.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!