Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Unfortunately. If I owned Harry Potter, I would be a lot richer.
This story is written for Sylvia (glowing neon), courtesy of the Gift-Giving Extravaganza 2013. I sincerely hope you like the story!
This is also being written for the Hogwarts Classes Category Competition (Astronomy - write a romance) and the Greenhouses Competition (Azalea - write a female character).
Lily stared down at the baby in her arms. Harry was sleeping peacefully, his little eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. It had taken a while, but she had finally been able to get him to fall asleep. It still felt strange to her, even after fifteen months, to know that she was a mother. She had never expected to be married at this age, much less to be the mother of a fifteen-month-old boy.
"He's going to be a handsome boy," James said suddenly. "Just like his father."
Lily rolled her eyes at him, but she could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "He looks just like you."
"Yeah, but he's got your eyes. Of course, we can't see them right now -"
"And that's a good thing," Lily interrupted, "seeing as he didn't want to sleep at all today." She leaned into James, who slung his arm over her shoulders, the other resting on the arm of he couch. "He's getting so big."
"I know."
Lily couldn't identify the emotions in James's tone. Everything, nowadays, was a mix of emotions. It was hard to be truly happy, shut up in the house like this, but it was also impossible to always be sad with a beautiful, healthy baby boy, who had brought so much joy to Lily and James in these dark times. Lily didn't regret marrying James, nor did she regret that night - was it really two years ago? - when the two of them had gotten carried away, forgetting to take precautions. She loved James. She loved Harry. She didn't regret having a little family; she hated the war, and the circumstances which had led to their hurried marriage, but she didn't regret the marriage itself.
"Do you -" Lily cut herself off, and James noticed.
"What were you going to say?" He was prodding, but his voice was gentle, and Lily couldn't be angry at him for wondering.
"I was just going to say...Do you think the war will ever be over? I mean, is it even possible for the Order to win? There's so few of us, and so many of them." She hated herself for voicing these feelings, hated herself for having doubt in the cause she truly believed in. More than anything, she wanted the Order to triumph, for somebody to kill that bastard Voldemort. She just didn't know if it could happen.
"They're all gits," James said.
"James. I'm serious." She turned to face him, adjusting Harry in her arms.
For a second, it looked as though James was going to make the always-overused Sirius-serious joke, but he refrained. "I think we can, Lily. I think we're going to win. Good triumphs over evil - everybody says so. They can't win, Lily. People like that...they always fall. There's too many people against them, even if they aren't in the Order. Someone's going to bring him down. Don't know who, but someone will." He glanced down at Harry, then back up at Lily. "He's not going to be stuck here forever. We're not going to be stuck here forever. One of these days, somebody will defeat him."
"Do you really think so, James?" Lily sighed. She wasn't sure what to think. She wanted to believe that somebody could defeat Voldemort, but in all honesty, who had that sort of power? The only person who came close to Voldemort's skill level was Dumbledore. Voldemort's defeat was the thing she wanted most of all, there was no denying that, but she just wasn't sure if and when it would happen.
"Of course." James said the words firmly, loud enough that Harry stirred, his eyes fluttering. Lily rocked her arms back and forth, shooting a look at James. He quieted down for his next words, although the intensity and firmness were still there. "We're going to win this war, Lily. I know it. I know it's really difficult, but don't give up hope. Don't spend all your time thinking about it."
"I know," Lily said. "You're right. It's just hard, being cooped up in here and not knowing what's going to happen. All these people are dying, and it's terrifying. I just want it to be over."
"It will be," James said, reaching out and holding Harry's little hand in his own. "Don't you worry - I'm certain of it."
Lily mustered up a smile. That was her James, always the optimistic one, always seeing the bright side to everything - or, at least, seeing the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel. "All right. Let's not talk about this anymore - let's focus on something nicer."
James grinned. "Like you?"
"You're so cheesy, Potter," she muttered.
"You know, calling me 'Potter' isn't the same as it was in school, since you're a Potter now too." James smirked. "Bet you didn't expect this ten years ago." He gestured to himself and Harry. "You would have hit me if I said you'd end up having a baby with me."
Lily couldn't help but chuckle; James always knew how to cheer her up. "I have hit you. And I'm pretty sure you made comments about little Evans-Potters running around while we were in school. Which then caused me to hit you."
James threw his arm around her shoulders again. "If I had to be hit by anybody, I'm glad it was you."
"Are you trying to be cheesy?"
"You find me adorable, Lily, and I know it." He grinned again. "Come on, let's go to bed. It's getting late."
Lily stood up, and James followed. "I'll put Harry to bed," Lily said, smiling up at James. "You can go to our room. I'll meet you there."
James pressed a soft kiss to Lily's forehead, and then to Harry's. "Love you, Lily."
She watched him go; he turned around to look back at her at the threshold of the room. "I love you, James," she said, and never had the words felt more true. He was her everything - the person who could cheer her up, the person that she bantered with, the person who had helped her create a wonderful baby boy. She couldn't have wished for a better husband, and in that moment, she had never felt more sure.