A/N: Howdy guys. Just a lil o-s I did for a Halloween contest over at a French board. Thought I'd translate it for y'all.

Destiny

She held her emerald-eyed newborn in her arms. Wrapped up in a thick blanket and protected with a Warming Charm, Harry smiled when he saw his mother's identical eyes were on him. He somehow managed to free one of his arms and stretched his tiny, chubby hand toward the silver ring hanging from Lily's earlobe.

The latter smiled and carefully removed the infant's fragile fingers before tucking them back to safety.

James leant forward and made a face that had Harry chuckling. Pushing his spectacles back along his nose, James smiled.

'Sleep, lil' one. You'll need your strength to spend the whole night with your nutty godfather.'

'James!' his wife chided him, more for fear that he be right than for chastening him of the slight jibe that wasn't really one; no one could pretend there was anything normal with Sirius Black.

'Sorry.'

With a repentant but oh-so-destructive smile James snaked an arm around Lily's waist. She rested her head on his shoulder and the three Potters went on their quiet way.

They were walking along an ill-lit street, disguised children accompanied by their parents passing them by restlessly in their hastiness to trick-or-treat.

Lily smiled watching the number of spectres, witches and any and every kind of monsters. She pouted when she saw a girl decked out in a big bent nose covered in a huge wart. When she spotted a dark figure in a black hooded clock her face darkened and she dug some more into James's embrace.

He was busy looking at a werewolf disguise, though. He sniggered and kissed his spouse's skull thinking that was what she wanted.

'Imagine Moony's face if he saw that kid,' he whispered happily in her ear.

She forced a smile on her lips but James had finally noticed her gloomy expression.

'Honey, you alright?' he asked in a suddenly grave voice.

With eyes become piercing, he watched the whole street over. She knew that his other hand was now clasped around his wand. Then he saw what had put his wife in that state. A child was wearing a Belphegor (*) black cape and the matching mask. The whole thing was not without reminding one of some Dark Wizard, their mortal enemy.

'Sweetheart, Vold–' he started.

'Not in the middle of a street!'

She had managed to shout without raising her voice. This woman constantly fascinated him, but at that moment –

'Love, don't be ridiculous,' James pleaded.

Lily furiously came out of his arm and fixed him with her big green eyes. The light of the street was nothing compared to the flames of the fire now burning in those emerald eyes.

'And you,' she hissed in a cat's angry voice, 'don't underestimate him!'

Around them people kept to their course as thought they couldn't see them, unaware of the quarrel.

'You can say his name all you want to boast before your friends and Dumbledore, but don't you dare put your son's life in danger, James Charlus Potter!'

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. As the air was blown out of her lungs, she was obviously calming down. After a quiet while, she brought her son closer to her heart and added, 'Please let's go home.'

She swirled around to leave but James halted her. 'Lily, wait. I –' It was clearly painful for him to apologize for this. 'I'm sorry. I know how you prize this tradition. Please don't break it because of me; I could never forgive myself.'

She stared at him for a few seconds. Harry watched them in turn with his big, innocent eyes. She finally nodded and took her place against James's offered side once more.

'Thank you,' she whispered in his ear.

'I love you,' he replied.

He squeezed Lily's waist lightly to strengthen his feeling. She smiled.

***

The first thing she saw when they entered was the huge motorbike in the living room. Trust Sirius to have as bizarre an idea as parking one's flying bike in the third floor of a Muggle building. Well, that at least allowed him to avoid the stairs, she told herself trying to move in a way that would ease the pain the climbing – with Harry in her arms – had caused.

The two men were just finishing their brotherly hug. She smiled in spite of herself when Sirius turned to her, his long black hair dancing around his face before it went limp again on his shoulders.

'Evans,' he greeted her.

'Black,' she replied with a courteous nod.

Sirius's bliss was only heightened when his grey eyes fell on baby Harry. He took him from his mother's arms and waltzed around with him to the middle of the sitting room.

James laughed heartily and threw a hand in his already unruly hair, a habit he had taken at Hogwarts so that he constantly looked like he had just gotten off his broomstick. He couldn't help it when one of his three Marauders were around.

Lily rolled her eyes and, quick as lightning, drew her wand and pointed it at the fingers still shuffling through the dark mane of James's.

'Go on and I'll Severe those fingers of yours,' she hissed. 'Or worse, your hair,' she added mobbing her wand an inch to put it directly on his skull.

James gulped and his eyes widened when he imagined such a heresy. He hurriedly dropped his hand.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius watching them. He rolled his eyes at such display of discipline. He bent a little toward his godson and whispered in his ear.

Lily drew back into herself. Something terrible was about to happen, she was sure of it. James noticed her sombre expression and hugged her more tenderly than he had Sirius.

'We shouldn't have left the house,' she whispered at his ear. 'If Dumbledore comes to know …'

'We have a right to live,' James answered her in a gentle but firm voice. 'And what Dumbledore doesn't know can't hurt him.'

***

The mist swirled and thickened. In the middle of the whirlwind, Lily and James appeared in a wave of their cloaks. Their Apparation complete, the newly-wedded couple held hands and walked forward through the cemetery.

Wandering through the gravestones, James strode with his usual sureness of himself. As for Lily, she couldn't help but looking around, weary of any threat that could hide into the fog.

They finally halted in front of a large tombstone but Lily didn't notice.

'Honey?' James called, worried.

Lily started and turned to him with an apologetic smile. He kissed her forehead and she headed for her parents' grave. She let her fingers glide over the carved names in the stone then brandished her wand.

With a light flick and a non-verbal Conjuring Spell, Lily made a vase and flowers she had specifically bought appear out of thin air.

While she was putting them on the amber stone of the grave, she heard the gravels crunch under the footsteps of another person.

'Protego!' she heard herself shout at the night as she bolted around.

She sensed the magical shield rise between them and the approaching individual. Yet neither she nor James could see anyone.

A Lumos later James was pushing the mist further away but still there was no trace of anyone anywhere around.

'Tell me you heard it, too,' she pleaded with a hoarse voice as she held her free hand tightly to her chest.

James nodded but his answer was another spell, 'Homenum Revilio!' He turned to his spouse, a strange expression on his face. 'There's no one else,' he announced with finality.

Lily shook her head, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. She turned back to her parents' tomb and saw the dreadful fact that, in her haste, she had broken the small mirror in the plaque she had bought at their death. Above the little mirror was written this symbolical line for anyone looking at themselves in the mirror, "We live on in your hearts."

Now she had broken that mirror, cursing herself to seven years of mishap. If only there wasn't worse …

With a wave of her wand, she Repaired the mirror then turned once again to her husband.

'James,' she said in a little voice. 'You know –'

'I know,' he cut her off with a nod. 'But that's just silly superstitions.'

How she wished his voice had been firmer in its affirmation.

Hearing footsteps behind you on Halloween and turning to them was a promise of certain death in the year to come. Hearing footsteps behind you in a cemetery on Halloween and turning to them was a promise of violent death.

Somewhere in the village, the twelve strokes of midnight began chiming.

A/N: There you go. I seriously hope I haven't mixed any American-speak with British-speak because Harry Potter's Brit and it's supposed to stay that way. (Yes I am seething that the bloody park theme is located in the States! Bummers.)

(*) Belphegor: those who don't know what the hell that is, it is a ghost or demon or divinity supposedly haunting the Louvre museum in Paris, based on the demon's legend (c.f. Wiki -- although I don't think Wiki mentions the Louvre's myth).