Disclaimer: not mine! This belongs to JK Rowling, her publishers and Warner Bros. I'm making no money off of this.
AN: All right, so I know most everything has been done already, and this premise has been done before but I love reading them and there's not enough (in my humble opinion) founders reincarnated stories. Hopefully this brings at least something new to the idea.
Three men, all displaying different degrees of anxiety, waited.
The tallest worried the edge of his sleeve, staring unseeingly as the material unravelled from the repetitive movements of his thin fingers. His rather unfortunate chin quivered sympathetically as another anguished scream ripped through the room.
The shortest man startled, his shoulders curling forward as a shiver wracked his body. His gaze darted between the closed door across from them and the floor, mouth opening to speak. "I -Is it normally-"
A bark-like laugh drowned the remainder of his question with its slightly overwhelming volume. "Lily sounds an awful lot like Moony during his Little Furry Problem."
"Oh." Moonys' thin fingers fell from his ruined sleeve as he refocused on his companion who was flaunting his characteristic casual elegance by leaning against the far wall. "Because that wasn't insensitive, not at all."
"Maybe people will think this hallway is haunted – like the shrieking shack! Wouldn't that be bloody hilarious? Just think about it...Can you imagine Lily as a ghoul?" His gray eyes sparkled as he paused glancing briefly at his two friends before continuing, "Nah, I can't see her as a ghoul either. Maybe a poltergeist. She certainly did a good enough job terrorizing us before Prongs got a handle on her."
"For one Lily couldn't be a poltergeist – ever. And I think, Padfoot, that she got a handle on him."
"Nonsense. Absolute rubbish, that is." Padfoot snorted, the expression on his face sharpening the traditional haughty Black features.
"She did an excellent job on you as well, you know. Getting you to think exactly what she wants you to." Padfoots jaw snapped shut, a vein in his neck pulsing once as Moony ploughed onwards, a satisfied smirk gracing his thin lips. "And trust me Padfoot, she wants you and Prongs under that impression."
The third occupant's shoulders had relaxed listening to his friends banter. The slight twitch in his left eye remained but his pudgy cheeks shook with his snickering.
"Moony, have you noticed how nice Prongs harness is? And Padfoots collar? Rather smashing aren't they?"
"Shutup Wormtail, you great idiot! Everyone knows that Prongs and I answer to no one."
Wormtail and Moony exchanged glances before bursting into laughter – tense and stiff, but genuine all the same.
The three fell abruptly silent as the screaming reached entirely new levels, before finally (hopefully) peaking on its crescendo. Padfoots adams' apple bobbed – his bravado failing him in the face of the sheer agony emanating from the private room.
They exchanged furtive, uncertain glances as the silence seemed to echo louder than Lily's voice. It was unbearable.
It stretched and pulled before its chords started to fray and the rope snapped so suddenly that Padfoot jumped from the wall, the backs of his knees hitting a chair causing him to topple backwards, arms flailing as he fell straight onto Moony, knocking the two of them to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Wormtail stared unbelieving at his friends, his beady eyes wide and startled.
"What in Merlins name are you doing?" The happy but strained voice of Prongs asked from the doorway he had just banged open.
"Oh you know me, Prongs. I'm just doing my civic duty by bringing unsuspecting people to the floor in a tangle of limbs, offering them the utmost pleasure in doing so."Padfoot nonchalantly offered, before Moony grunted, shoving him away.
"You shameless mutt, get away from me."
"Hmm. I thought your civic duty only applied to the female form." Prongs eyebrow quirked, his arms crossing over the wizarding scrubs he sported.
"Hey! One of my best friends has a Furry Little Problem. Obviously I don't discriminate. There's enough of me for everyone."
"Should I be flattered or offended?" Moony asked; finally disentangled from Padfoot who seemed quite content to remain on his elbows sprawled across the linoleum.
"Offended." Wormtail offered.
"Disturbed. I would go with disturbed." James chuckled, a crooked smile gracing his drawn and pale face. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you Moony. We all know that anything Sirius says needs to be taken with a grain of salt – he hardly ever means it."
Padfoot drew his wand with deadly accuracy pointing it at his best friend, "take that back, James, my boy, you know I mean what I say. I'm no Slytherin."
Unfortunately for Padfoot, his affronted body language was betrayed by the playful tone in his voice.
"You're right. You mean what you say." Prongs hazel eyes laughed as Padfoot relaxed, "except when you have that particular look on your face – the one you get before a prank or when you attempt to charm your way out of trouble – than you're just trying to get one of us to eat a bogey flavoured bean."
"I lament the day I met you on the Hogwarts express. Worst decision of my life."
"Hmm, now that I consider it, that really was the worst decision of my life too. Funny how things work out like that, isn't it."
Moony rolled his amber eyes.
"No Prongs. The worst decision you've ever made was making this lout your child's Godfather." All four of the self-anointed Marauders startled (even Moony) as his teasing remark settled into their brains. "Padfoot is someone's Godfather."
"A baby."
"I'm a Godfather."
"Oh Merlin. I'm a father." Prongs momentarily went limp, the remaining color in his face draining completely as the idea finally seemed to register.
"James." Padfoot waited for his friend to meet his eyes. They looked at each other, searching for something, perhaps their brazen Gryffindor courage that seemed to be failing them in face of such a monumental task. "You're a father. You've got a baby – a baby what? Is it a boy or girl? I can't really finish my anecdote without that knowledge now can I?"
Wormtail's curiosity peaked, so he shifted, peering around Prongs, trying to catch a glimpse of the room beyond. His attempt, however, failed abysmally when life seemed to pour into James, a literal glow encompassing his body as he radiated joy.
"A boy. He's a boy. We named him Harry. Harry James Potter." Pride filled his voice, trumping his fear of being a parental failure. Before his friends could say anything he whirled around, "come! Come see my son!"
Padfoot, feeding off the energy emanating from his best friend bounced into the room behind him, eyes immediately finding the tired, sweaty form of Lily Potter cradling a small blue bundle in her arms. Wormtail chewed his lip as Prongs pushed his wife's hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears. It was an absentminded action, for he was puffed up, staring at his son with undeniable pride etched into every line of his features.
The jovial, adoring smile Lily gave him caused the three single Marauders to allow the new family a moment of peace. They looked perfect together and all three found themselves wondering how they ever thought Harry wouldn't have fallen seamlessly into their lives.
Moony, the last to enter the room, broke the silence, "You look radiant Lily."
"Yeah, your hair being plastered really brings out its color and the sweat just makes you shine." Padfoot grinned broadly.
Lily's eyes narrowed as James muffled a chuckle. He caught the expression on his wife's face and shoved the humour down his throat, "Shutup Sirius, don't be a jerk. Lils you've never looked better. Promise."
"You're just saying that because you want me to forget about all the threats to your person I shouted before." The loving cadence to Lily's voice did nothing to stop the shivers that ran down both James and Sirius' spine as various threats she'd gratuitously given over the years ran through their minds.
A threat given by Lily was hard to forget. And for James who had so recently suffered her sharp tongue while her brain was saturated with pain, the turmoil was torturously fresh.
"And the two of you doubt her control." Moony chuckled, looking between the cowed looks on his friends faces.
"Remus..."
"Right sorry Lily."
"Remus." She repeated. "Would you like to hold Harry?"
Remus went rigid. "Ugh, Lily. Shouldn't James-"
"I already held him for a good long while before I came out to tell you guys."
"Well, Sirius is his Godfather, he should-"
"Remus. Quit being utterly daft and hold Harry. None of us care about your condition. Neither will Harry." Sirius's fathomless grey eyes bore into Remus, his words doing a formidable job of slicing through Remus' barriers and concerns, causing the worn man to deflate.
"Are you sure? Lily I'm-"
"Going to be an extremely important part of Harry's life." She looked between the four men in the room. "He's going to need one sane male figure in his life; after all, he's not going to find that with anyone else but you."
"Sanity is overrated." Sirius muttered petulantly.
"Sirius, he'll need you just as much you know." Sirius brightened at Lily's words, "You too Peter. All three of you will be important for different reasons."
James watched as Lily showed Remus how to hold Harry and he took him carefully, afraid of the child's fragile state.
Remus was acutely aware of how strong he was, in that moment, holding someone who had already wormed his way into his heart. Already become pack.
Sirius lost all pretence as he bounced impatiently, waiting to hold Harry. Once his precarious hold on his patience deteriorated he snatched (gently, of course) Harry from Remus and stared deep into the brilliant emerald pools gazing curiously at him. Sirius froze.
James watched his best friend uncharacteristically relax – not in that superior, casual way of his, no, it was something else.
Lily noticed, "They need him too."
James smiled softly at his wife, "You always were observant."
"I did notice your subtle displays of affection." She teased.
The two young parents looked at each other. So many emotions and feelings transpiring between them they felt lightheaded – or maybe it was the twenty-two painstaking hours of labour catching up to them. Regardless of the cause, they had never been more in love than that moment.
"Thank you." James voice broke, "for, for picking me, for knowing exactly what I need, what my friends need. You make this war bearable, you know? It doesn't seem so bad with you beside me. I, I couldn't ever live without you."
"I love you so much James that it breaks my heart."
The Healer snuck passed the three men gathered around the bundle in the very good-looking ones arms and passed the couple who, trusting their friends with their child, only had eyes for each other.
The child had been born at exactly 11.59pm on July 31st. She needed to file a report for her superiors and then she could finally go home. That was one of the most arduous labours she had ever conducted and though the others in the room hadn't noticed it. She had.
The baby never cried.
All babies cried when they took their first breath upon being expelled from their mother's birth canal, unless there were complications. If there were complications as soon as they were resolved, then the baby started to cry.
Harry James Potter hadn't.
He hadn't made one sound. It unnerved her. There was something wrong with that boy. She noticed something in his eyes while she cleaned him making her certain she didn't want to find out what exactly that was.
"James?"
"In here, Lils." James called from the couch. His fingers wrapping around the fluttering snitch he had been playing with. He stuffed the quivering object into his pocket and tiredly ruffled his hair.
She turned the corner into their modest living room; spotting her husband sprawled on the couch Lily approached him before sitting on the edge of a cushion near his stomach. James shifted, pulling her closer.
They were quiet for a long while, the incessant ticking of the mounted clock the only noise.
"It's only been a week." James wasn't sure whether Lily was trying to comfort him or admonish herself. She was having as much difficulty with this arrangement as he was.
"I hate this."
"Me too."
They both sighed.
"All I ever wanted in school was to lock you in a broom closet and be your only source of comfort until you cracked and passionately made out with me to alleviate your boredom. I used to joke that if I could ever get you there, I'd never leave." James chuckled humourlessly, "Now I have you all to myself with a great kid upstairs and I could spend all my free time having my wicked way with you...and I'm miserable."
"We had plenty of sex before we were forced into hiding. It was fun being late for everything all the time." She giggled, winking saucily at him.
Her fingers snuck beneath his sweater and begun drawing shapes on his chest. James muscles clenched and unclenched in tandem with her movements.
The rising sexual tension was dispelled however, when Lily spoke again.
"But now we have nothing to be late for. No one we're allowed to see. No where we're allowed to go. We have no choice but to stay in this house for our sons' protection. And while I'm sure this prophecy must have significant ramifications, I can't help but think Dumbledore-"
Lily's jaw snapped shut, her teeth grinding together.
A sinking sensation filled James stomach as he stared at Lily's downcast eyes. "Say it Lily."
Slowly her eyes met his.
"Say it."
She swallowed several times, her fingers spasmed once on his chest but she spoke. She confirmed his suspicions. "Dumbledore is wrong."
Saying those three words seemed to break something in Lily and the tense atmosphere that had settled over this Muggle cottage in Godric's Hollow since the two of them and Peter performed the Fidelius charm shattered.
"What good are we doing here? Hiding. We're sitting ducks. I can't help but think we'd do better fighting for our son out there. We've done well so far, haven't we? I want Harry to have a future, more than anything – I need to guarantee that for my son. How can I do that cloistered in this stupid cottage, shielded from everything?
"Were not even allowed to communicate with anyone – so how do we know our friends are all right? How do we know You-Know-Who hasn't destroyed everything we fought so long for? This – this feels like...this feels like giving up."
James couldn't really add anything to his Wife's impassioned speech. She summed up everything he'd been feeling and afraid to voice. She had more courage than he ever would.
He'd been raised to idolize Dumbledore. Saying he was wrong, or could be, well, it felt like blasphemy.
It felt like spitting on Merlin's grave. (If anyone knew where it actually was)
"And why, if we had to be sequestered, couldn't we have done it in our own home? Why couldn't we have gone with Alice, Frank and Neville? Wouldn't our sanity be salvaged, at least marginally, to have the extra company?"
"Because it wouldn't be safe." And as James said it, half-heartedly defending the man his late father had taught him to look up to, he realized, finally, just how flawed Dumbledore's explanations had been.
Lily's voice rose shrilly as she jumped from the couch, pacing. Strands of her ruby hair escaped from her high ponytail as she began waving her arms. "It wouldn't be safe? Not safe? Because then all of his ducks would be in the same place. No. You're right Potter that wouldn't be safe at all. Except you seem to be forgetting that the Fidelius is the safest course. There's no wiser decision, remember Potter?"
Lily stopped.
James waited, knowing she needed to blow of steam and loving himself enough not to needlessly place himself in her line of wrath.
He glanced upwards, wondering if Harry had been woken by Lily's ranting.
"James." He started at the eerily calm expression he found upon returning his gaze to her. He'd never seen Lily's face look like that. "James? James! Oh Merlin's beard, tell me I'm wrong." She sobbed suddenly, crumbling to the floor in front of him.
James perplexed, scrambled up from the couch. Right before he reached his wife they both heard it.
"Mum!"
Lily, tears still leaking from her emerald eyes, twisted her head so fast it cracked. James hand froze, halfway to his wife. Their eyes met.
James found himself first, grabbing Lily's arm and wrenching her upwards, pulling her, despite his disbelief, towards the stairs.
James thundered up the stairs dragging his wife behind him. By the time they reached the landing she seemed to regain her presence of mind as she started pulling him towards the nursery.
Lily flung the door open, catching the knob so it wouldn't slam and startle Harry.
The fourteen month old child stood in his crib, tiny hands gripping the railing. He looked like he had tried to escape the structure only to be hindered by his small stature.
The two parents stared at their silent son, waiting. Lily brushed her tears away with the fabric of James sleeve, "Harry? Sweetie, are you all right?"
Harry stared at them, his expressionless face betraying nothing. One tiny hand unclenched itself from the railing and reached upwards, towards his mother, closing and opening. He said nothing.
Lily loosened the titan grip she had on James arm, starting forward to comfort her son. "We must have imagined it James."
"How could we have imagined the same thing at the same time? He said Mum. I'm positive."
"James he wouldn't just start speaking, we're fooling ourselves. He's never said one word...never made a noise, never cried." More tears fell from her lashes, as she picked Harry up, her face turning back to James, "What if something's wrong with him?"
"Lily-"
"Maybe...maybe Peter was right. He's unnaturally quiet. It just isn't normal."
"Harry's special. His learning curve is just different. You're a great mother Lily. It's not your fault." James knew it wasn't Lily's fault that Harry never made a noise.
He did worry that it might be his. He worried more than was likely healthy about his silent son.
He remembered how pleased they were, at first, that Harry never cried.
But then they never knew when he was hungry. He never laughed at James faces or squealed when he was taken on his broom. He never made the sounds that Neville would at Order meetings. The Weasley children would be running around babbling away and Harry would watch them all but never say anything.
Sure he communicated with motions but he never said anything.
The only person who never voiced any concerns about this fact was Sirius, whose narcissistic tendency's had stretched to include one other person: Harry. He told them Harry was too smart to waste his time on such tedious things. Sirius made it into a joke, adamant that Harry would talk to them whenever he felt they had said something worth a response.
While James could clearly see his son wasn't stupid, he worried. It was protocol for parents to worry and Lily had made him read loads of baby books in preparation for his son, so he knew just how abnormal Harry's silence was.
"Mum." Harry pulled on Lily's green shirt, his small hand gripping the tear stained fabric.
"Oh my – James? Did he-"
"Yeah Lils. Yeah he did." James breathed, months of worry flaking and fluttering to the floor.
"Mum 'kay?" A small furrow appeared between Harry's brows. "Mum 'kay?" He repeated, still seeming displeased with his words.
James arms wound themselves around Lily's waist, his chin rested on her shoulder as he peered at their son – their wonderful, brilliant speaking son.
"I'm okay Harry." Lily whispered, awe saturating her voice. "I'm okay." She bent her head, rubbing her nose against Harry's, laughing in her excitement. She pulled back, kissing the small nub before leaning into her husband's embrace. "Oh James."
"Mum's the word Lils. His first word."
"Weahr Pa'ft?"
"When a Potter starts something, they just bulldoze straight through, don't they?" Lily laughed, though, James noted her exuberance had faded in light of the reminder Harry unwittingly offered.
"Of course they do. It's the Potter way." James focused on his son who seemed to be frowning, his intelligent eyes staring, waiting. "Padfoot is away for a while Harry, but you'll see him soon. Promise."
"Don't make him promises you can't keep James Potter." Lily admonished, "You and I both know he may not see Sirius for a long time."
"No. He will. Tomorrow morning I'll send Dumbledore a letter. We can't live like this Lily. It's in neither of our nature's to sit around doing nothing. We're not protecting Harry by staying here, were just hiding him. And if it's really so important we stay here, well then Dumbledore will have to explain why. Not just tell us there's some prophecy about either our son or the Longbottoms. I need more than that and, and I should have gotten that first before making a decision like this for our family."
Unfortunately, for the Potters, Dumbledore convinced them to stay in Godrics Hollow until the New Year. Dumbledore promised that after the New Year the small family could return to Potter Manor, for by then he was sure the immediate danger would have passed.
On October 31st 1981 Voldemort treated the elder Potters to a swift if not merciless death.
But on Halloween every person is offered both Tricks and Treats.
Voldemort found, on this particular evening, that his night would end with a Trick instead of the Treat he had been anticipating.
All of his meticulously planning would be for naught as he was tricked from his body by a child with shockingly green eyes.
Silence reigned in the small muggle cottage in Godrics Hollow as Harry Potter stared at his unmoving mother. Blood dripped from a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, sliding down, coalescing with fat tears, leaving pink lines to mar his nearly expressionless face – nearly expressionless because while nothing else moved, his lips quivered dangerously.
AN: I skimmed over the murder at Godric's Hollow because we all know what happens and we've seen it so many times that I feel its unimportant to go over it again and again.
Let me know what you think.
