The Greatest Weapon

by Magdalen-Rose

For a hideous moment, Lily thought the baby had stopped breathing.

She had fallen asleep beside him, gazing out through half-closed lashes at the fine dark hair curling over his ears and the little hollow in back of his neck. She watched him suck in his sleep, watched his eyes roll under pale-veined lids. And she'd thought of what she needed to do while he slept – there were letters to be written and owled off, she needed to work on some security charms for the Order meeting next week, and then she needed to do some investigation into the rumours that she and James were being followed … and perhaps … work on finding … someplace … to go.

She woke with a start, strangely alert. Her head felt thick and heavy, and her eyes stared into the unnatural darkness. It was late afternoon; she'd slept, and … James would be home soon, and … she fumbled in the darkness for her wand and whispered, "lumos," staring at the clock her mother had brought her ("you can't live on just magic," Mrs. Evans had fussed, and given her the clock and some control-top tights. The clock had been useful.).

Harry was still sleeping. Lily sat up, winced, and stroked her hair back from her face. Her breasts ached with milk. She cradled them in her arms as she walked carefully into the study, where the Order's papers were laid out, enchanted to be unreadable unless you knew the password.

The low purple light in the sky numbed her. She felt as though she'd just botched an Apparation spell; her body felt off, somehow.

Harry would be awake any minute; Lily was vaguely angry at herself for sleeping so long and wasting that time. She stared at the papers in front of her and tried to make sense of them.

We need a better silencing charm; the one we've got is all very well for small amounts of noise, but it covers only two or three people and it wears off quickly. Is it possible to create a layer of static or extra noise around us, as an extra measure in case something slips through? - Remus Lupin

Look into getting a Secret-Keeper. Just in case. You have children to think about; the rest of us may take more liberties than you. You are the next generation. It is for you we fight. The spell takes several weeks, so PLAN AHEAD. – Alastor Moody

I have discovered what is in that stone room in the Department of Mysteries. It is death. An enormous record-keeping system; as a shadow of the prophesies exists in the Hall of Prophesies, so a shadow of each soul exists in the stone room. When a soul dies, the shadow falls through the veil, and the name is etched on the fabric. I have discovered an ancient prophesy that says when the fabric is full of names, the veil will tear in two, and death will be no more. It is not said what will follow it.- Sirius Black

Sirius' letter had come three weeks ago. James had looked strange and pale when he read it.

Eventually, she pulled herself into the work, keeping half an ear out for Harry. He would always wake up and babble to himself for a few minutes before crying, and she didn't want him to roll off the bed before she heard him. It got darker. The sun fell behind the chimneys, which sketched themselves out against the London skyline, with birds and television wires disrupting their symmetrical lines.

He should really be awake by now. She glanced up, heard nothing, shook her head, and went back to work.

He never sleeps this late. He's on his stomach, you know.

She told herself that Harry was practically walking; he was perfectly capable of rolling over or sitting up if he needed to, and this work needed to get done.

What if something's happening to him right now, and you could have stopped it but you didn't?

With an exasperated sigh, she threw the quill down and re-entered the dark bedroom. The creak of a floorboard made her jump, and she whispered for the lights to come on and leaned down over the sleeping baby.

She watched for the rise and fall of his back. She couldn't see it. She squinted harder. Oh my God.

She leaned over and picked him up – he would always fuss and rub his eyes and kick when she did this – oh God baby oh God please no no – oh God come on baby – she thought he startled but then he fell limply against her shoulder – OH GOD NO – she was holding him against her chest and shaking him – "Come on baby breathe come on oh God no no … come on …" and her blood seemed to have left her body all at once.

She sank to the floor with the baby against her shoulder, his weight and solidness, his stillness and the temperature that might have been too cold – this isn't happening.

She shook him again, he wasn't moving, he wasn't flushed, he should be flushed – it was hot for April – he should be fussing and opening his eyes and –

Oh God, thank you God oh thank you oh … as he kicked and sighed and blinked and she felt his spine stiffen under her hand and he yawned, and she finally let her shaking hand stay against his back long enough to feel him breathe.

She leaned against the wall, Harry's head settling into the curve of her left arm, his round feet flung over her right, one of his fists rubbing at his eyes, his mouth scrabbling at her dress, and she shook with crying, and let the tears run down her face and down her chin and neck, into the mess of sweaty red hair tied at its nape.

When James came in, she was sobbing against the wall, her head flung back, left arm pulled out of its sleeve and Harry's baby mouth sucking at her nipple, his short fingers opening and closing across the freckled skin just under her collarbone.

"It's all right. He's all right."

"I thought – oh God, I thought –"

"Ssshhh. It's all right."

The baby was between them, and Lily's hand had traveled up James' back – he could feel it shaking – almost as if she were reassuring himself that he was real, that the soft scratchy woolen jumper was real, the hair she buried her fingers in was real, the tanned skin of his face was real and alive and warm.

He licked the tears off her neck, and she gave a long, shuddering sigh as his lips brushed her skin. Harry's mouth was pulling on her, and she slid her legs between James' where he crouched over her, and let him take some of the baby's weight, hold his son to her breast.

"We are going to get through this."

"I swear to God, I'll kill for him if I have to. I'll die for him."

"Lily –"

"I'm going to keep him safe."

"We are going to get through this."

"But there's just so much – so much hideousness," Lily moaned. "So much death and hatred and so many people gone, turned, killed, and everything's falling apart, and what possible right do we have –" her voice was growing stronger, "what possible right do we think we have to bring a child into all of this? It's a damned awful world, and what right do we think we have!"

"Listen to me," James murmured, his forehead touching hers. "I can't promise you we'll get through the war. I can't promise you our family will survive. Nobody can. We have powerful weapons at our hands, but so do they. We have vast numbers on our side, but so does he. What I can promise is that I will love you through death and destruction, and whatever powers he has, that is one promise he can never give."

The seed of an idea was forming in Lily's mind. If what James said was true, if that were a weapon …if that were the greatest weapon, the only weapon stronger than death …

"But –"

Without moving, James reached into his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper.

"This is why I was late today. I had to get into the Hall of Prophesies, and track something down. Sirius and I transcribed it; I don't know if anyone alive still remembers the original."

There are two sides to the veil.

"That's it?"

"My great-great-grandfather is said to have had the seeing eye. He's also said to have been as barmy as a bedbug. We might as well take our chances."

"James."

Harry was sitting up now, and trying to take off his father's glasses. James ran the side of his thumb over the freckles on Lily's bare shoulder.

"There is something that lasts. He whose only desire is to stay alive has no idea of that, and it is by that weakness we will have him."

Lily's eyes met her husband's, and Harry said, "aaa bla bla bla bla bla bla gaah!" and tipped his head forward to eat his mother's shoulder. She smiled, letting out a few small sobs, and met James' kiss.

"He wants only to cling to what he has, to stay alive. Let us fight as though his greatest fear were nothing to us, as though we know there is something that lasts –"

"As love stronger than death –"

"Swear it to me, Lily."

She looked up at him, green eyes huge in the night-covered room, the baby warm against her chest.

"I swear it."