A/N: This one-shot is to take place on the night of October 29th, 1981. Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not known anything in the Potterverse; all credit to JK Rowling.
The cemetery was quiet at night. No one was laying flowers at a loved one's grave, nor were any teenagers wandering about creating mischief. It was a chilly night in Godric's Hollow and most of the residents had chosen to remain indoors. The snow that had started earlier in the afternoon had not yet ceased. Only one person, donned in a heavy black cloak, stood on the cemetery grounds.
Her dark red hair blew in all directions with the wind, but the witch made no attempt to fix it. She appeared to be studying one particular tombstone. Her emerald eyes narrowed in a mixture of scrutiny and confusion.
The sound of footsteps startled the witch. She whipped out her wand and turned around, searching for the source of the noise. She thought she heard hoof beats, but did not see any kind of animal either. After a few moments of silence, the young woman sighed and returned to studying the tombstone.
"Lily?" a familiar voice said suddenly, causing the witch to yelp in fright.
The redhead turned around to see a bespectacled man standing behind her. He was looking at her with concern. Her fear faded to relief as the messy-haired man joined her by her side.
"How is Harry?" Lily asked him.
"Padfoot is looking after him, and he couldn't be happier. He missed us, you know," answered the wizard. "Harry hasn't been coughing as much, but Madam Pomfrey left us a few potions in case it starts up again."
"It was nice of Albus to send her," Lily replied. She brushed the loose tendrils of hair out of her face. "I wish we could have brought him to St. Mungo's..."
The wizard frowned. "Pomfrey is just as good, Lily. You know we can't leave here. It's not safe for us."
"I know, James," said Lily, sighing. "I just can't help wondering when all of this will be over. There's so many worries! I worry if Frank and Alice are all right, I worry if Peter is safe, I worry for Molly and her family, and I can't even think of how poor Dorcas must be feeling, after losing Benjy like that-"
"Lily, please," James interrupted. "Believe me, I'm as frustrated as you are that we're stuck here unable to do anything. If I didn't have you and Harry, I would have gone insane by now. Albus would have informed us if something happened to anyone in the Order. As for Peter, he will be fine; everyone still believes that Sirius is our Secret-Keeper. There is no reason anyone would want to go after Wormtail. We have to protect Harry, love."
Lily thought for a moment, then nodded. "You're right," she admitted. "We have to keep Harry safe, no matter what."
"No matter what," agreed James. He glanced down at the tombstone. "What were you looking at?"
Lily bent down and brushed away the layer of snow that had covered the headstone. The names on the grave became visible again. James gasped when he read them.
"Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore," he read aloud. "Where your treasure is, there will be your heart also." His hazel eyes were lit with realization as he read the dates. "Albus never told us he had a sister."
"Albus never mentioned his childhood at all," Lily reminded him. "I wonder what happened to them."
"Old Bathilda was right then, wasn't she?" James wondered. "She must have told us at least a dozen times that the Dumbledores had lived here."
"Perhaps she isn't as barmy as I thought she was," Lily said with a small smile. "I wonder, then, if Albus really was friends with Grindelwald."
"He very well could have been. Friends are not always who you think they are," James said bitterly. He scowled, and Lily knew instantly who he was referring to.
"James," she began softly, "I know you think that Remus-"
"Don't mention his name," spat James. He turned away from the tombstone, glaring up at the full moon as if it had done something to offend him.
"All right, I won't," the witch conceded. "I know you and Sirius think that he is the traitor, but it doesn't make any sense! He's as good as your brother, James. Besides, he spends most of his time out with Greyback's pack, risking his life for the Order! I don't believe for one second that he is the traitor."
James whirled around, his eyes frantic. "We're all risking our lives, Lily. This is war! We are in hiding because Voldemort wants our son dead - a baby, for Merlin's sake! Greyback is on the side of the Death Eaters, -most of the werewolf packs are at this point-, and he could easily be passing information to them. I hope I'm wrong, Lily, I really do. With Harry and you in danger, I won't take any chances. We're safe with Wormtail."
The pair stood in silence, staring at the grave of Kendra and Ariana. The tears dripping down Lily's cheeks glowed in the moonlight as she wept silently. They had already lost so many: Marlene and her family right before Harry's first birthday, Gideon and Fabian, Benjy blown to smitherenes, Caradoc, the list of loved ones lost could go on and on. James was completely right; they were safe from Voldemort by putting their trust in loyal Peter Pettigrew.
"Should we tell Albus? About Peter?" she asked her husband.
James glanced at the tombstone, then shook his head. "If we tell Albus, he'll tell the rest of the Order, and that means he will find out. It's better off with just Sirius knowing."
Lily nodded. After a pregnant pause, she took his hand and began to lead him away. "Let's go home, love," she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. "Harry needs us."
James followed her out of the graveyard. As they approached the exit, he draped an arm around the slender redhead next to him. "Hopefully Padfoot hasn't destroyed much." He smirked.
Lily chortled. "This is Sirius we're talking about. We'll be lucky if he hasn't destroyed the entire house!"
The couple laughed as they made their way through the cemetery gates. The snow was coming down harder now, the wind blowing it in all directions. James watched Lily fight to control her hair from blowing in front of her face. Impulsively he grabbed her by the shoulders and stopped her.
"I love you, Lily," James said with a smile.
Lily smiled back, inching closer to him. "I love you too, James."
The Potters shared a short, yet sweet, kiss. Lily pulled away, muttering something about picking up where they left off when they returned home. The two began walking down the road towards the home where their baby boy was waiting for them.
Neither of them had noticed they were being watched.
A tall man stepped out from behind the shadows of the cemetery once the Potters had left. His long, wiry, grey hair and beard blew in the wind just as Lily's had. He approached the tombstone the Potters had stopped at. Slowly, he bent down and wiped the fresh layer of snow off of the tombstone. Despite his rather disgruntled appearance, his bright blue eyes were shining with tears.
The tall man knelt down, ignoring the sting of the cold, snowy ground. With a wave of his wand, a buoquet of roses and daisies appeared underneath the stone. He then wiped away a few stray tears.
"Happy birthday, Ariana," the man whispered.
Then, with a loud crack, he was gone.