Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, likely never will.
AN: Lilly from just after her marriage to the night of her death.
Because I Won't Think About It
The room is small and cozy. Lived in, yes, but all them more charming because of it. The widows are opened and gentle sun light streams in warming the room even more. I walk about humming as a pick up this and straighten that. Cleaning up after my new husband. You know I prefer to clean the muggle way at times. I suppose somethings will never change.
Others do.
But I won't let myself think of that. I'll clean, and I won't think of that.
James is off to work at them moment. So I have the house to myself. Our little abode, Gordric's Hallow. We are pathetic about such things, naming our house after Gryffindor. But James still wears his house jumper and truth be known I do have a particular fondness for red and gold. So here we are practically a couple of school kids.
How I wish we could go back to those walls, to those times. We were so safe. But we still are I'm sure. Yes, I am muggle-born. But this war has nothing to do with us. And it'll remain that way.
Right?
A door closes. I put a smile on. I won't let myself think of that.
I'll go to greet my love.
Why?
Why, why, why, why, why? Why must we be so damned noble. Stupid Gryffindor courage.
But I won't let myself think about that.
I try to focus on the words in front of me. A magazine. Not the paper. Never the paper. Not during the day. Some things just shouldn't be given the chance to shadow the day. In the day I read magazines, I read comics, I read fiction. I don't read the news, because the real world's too much.
But I won't think about that.
I won't think about how we have signed our own death warrant. That we have brought this war into our home. And how I swore we wouldn't get involved. But we did.
Didn't I say I wouldn't think about it?
A article on some of the newest charms developed. Yes I'll read that to stop my mind from wandering. To forget.
Because I won't think of that.
I stir the pot that holds tonight's dinner. I'm cooking for five tonight, not two. Four Marauders and myself. Then again I find I'm cooking for five more and more often. How much longer will I cook for five?
I won't think of that. I have to cook. I have to cook for five.
I have to cook for four never-ending stomachs, as well as my own. I chuckle at the thought. I swear with the amount they all eat, they ought to be a couple hundred pounds. But then they get their exercise don't they? James as a professional quitich player. Sirius, training to be an auror. Peter, running around serving at his pub. And Remus, poor unfortunate Remus gets his every month. And of course there's the exercise we all get with the Order.
But I won't think about that.
I do worry about them. At times I feel I have gained three children with this marriage. At other times, I feel I've gained three brothers. Either way they are my family now, they came with the husband, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
I hear the loud bark-like laugh, as well as the no-hold-barred deep one, the musical chuckle, and the squeaky snigger. I smile. It's so nice to hear them laugh. It's times like this I can imagine that we're just an everyday family whose greatest fear is running out of toilet paper.
But we're not are we? How much longer will they laugh? How long before each is silenced one by one forever? How long?
Never.
I won't think of that.
They will never be silenced. I hear the laughing again. I make my way toward the cheerful sounds. I wide my hands on the dishtowel.
Now what is so funny?
The house is silent. I can't even bring myself to hum in order to fill the silence. I don't think I've been able to hum or sing for quite some time. How long will it be before I can hum again?
But I won't think of that. I'll wait for him.
I worry when he goes out to work for the order. More so now than before. Maybe it's because before I would go with him. No. More likely it's because now he in coming home to us. Not just me. Now he has to come home to Harry too, never mind the boy's not even born yet. He has to come home to me and Harry. Because if he didn't . . .
I won't think about that. I'll sit here and not think of that.
It's late. He'll be home soon. And then we can talk of what color we'll paint the nursery wall, what stuffed animals we'll put on the shelves. And he'll talk of how Harry'll be the greatest quiditch payer, and lead the Gryffindor team to victory. After all with a coach like him how could Harry go wrong?
Will he really coach Harry to victory? Or will he not come home one night? Just like that.
I won't think of that. Because I can't.
Because James will always come through that door. Every night.
And Sirius, and Peter, and Remus will always show up looking for food, advice, or company.
Because that's how it's always been. And how it always will be.
Right?
The door closes and he enters the room. He had to come home for Harry, and for me.
I hug him close.
I fold another miniature shirt. They're so small, just like Harry. Just like Harry's so small and cute.
And helpless.
But I won't think of that. Because prophecies and divination are for the foolish.
And I'm not foolish, and neither is Harry.
I hear Sirius cooing as Harry giggles and James, Remus and Peter nearly laugh themselves to death at the amusing picture I'm sure he makes with his leather jacket and roughish looks cooing at a baby. Who would have thought it of them. The Marauders. They all make such good 'uncles'. Sirius giving him 'horsey' rides, Remus reading him fairytales and Peter slipping him candy when he thinks I'm not looking.
And I can't forget the doting farther. I think James has a heart attack whenever Harry's out of his sight.
They are going to spoil him I know it. And I'll be the evil one who has to teach him discipline. I scowl playfully at the thought. They all care for him so much.
Or they act like they do. But one of them doesn't. One doesn't care if Harry lives or dies. I just don't see how any of them could feel that way they all are his 'uncles', all his family.
But one doesn't care. Which one?
No, I won't think of that. Because I can't see how any of them could.
I fold a pair of pants when I here Harry start crying. I laugh as I hear Sirius begging Remus or James to help him, or at the very least tell him what to do. The other to just laugh at their friend's obvious distress. Chuckling I put the laundry aside.
I better go save him.
It's Halloween. A time of celebration. I remember Halloweens gone by. I remember the great feasts at Hogwarts and, later, after we left school, the parties. Whether just us the Marauders and me. Or maybe the Order. Or maybe friends from work. But tonight we'll spend it alone. Sirius said he'd come over, but that won't be until later. What will next Halloween be like? Will we be at a party? Will we be alive?
I won't think of that. Because we will.
We'll be at a big party we threw here at Gordric's Hallow. And Peter will be by the food eating, maybe talking to a girl, and Sirius will have spiked the punch and gotten himself and James drunk and Remus will stand there trying to lecture them all the while trying to hide his amusement. And I'll stand with Harry shaking my head at them and laughing. And they'll laugh too even as they make great prats out of themselves. Because that's what the Marauders do.
They don't laugh anymore. They try, but it never reaches their eyes. Their eyes are always clouded over. They try to hide it, but they can't. Because we all know it's just a matter of time.
No, I won't think of it.
I won't think about any of it. Because, because if I do I'll start crying. I'll start crying and never stop. I'll never stop, and I'll break after holding up for so long. And if I break they will too. They will too because, they're just as fragile as I. If one of us falls we'll all collapse.
So we don't think about it. Don't think about anything but putting one foot in front of the other, breathing in then out, eating and sleeping. Living from today to tomorrow. Because there's always a tomorrow. The sun always rises, so there's always a tomorrow.
But the run rising doesn't always make a tomorrow does it? Just because you're there when the sun goes down doesn't mean you'll be there when it comes up.
Because Marlene wasn't. Neither was her family. Or Benjy, or Edgar and his family. Cardoc, Gideon and Fabian weren't. Neither was Dorcus. And Alice and Frank might as well not be. Because they didn't have a tomorrow. None of them had a tomorrow, even though the sun rose.
There isn't always a tomorrow.
But I won't think of it. Because the sun will rise and it'll be a tomorrow.
Because there's always a tomorrow.
Some one apperated outside. It must be Sirius.
I better go greet him.