A/N: Hello there! This was written in honor of Jo and Harry's birthdays today. Thank you both to the queen and king of my heart.
Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing. Rats.
James hated this. Merlin, he hated it.
He was hidden in an empty alleyway, sweat slicking his forehead and his body battered and bruised. A cut sliced across his forehead, blood drying and dribbling down the side of his face. His glasses were cracked in the left eye, and he couldn't make his bloody hands stop shaking.
It was dangerous for him to be on a mission in this state. He was antsy and nervous and unfocused, and it could get him killed. He was aware of this, of course, but his brain didn't have much room for other thoughts. It was clogged with the single notion of Lily.
Just like old times, he thought dryly.
She had told him to go, and they had fought – briefly, though, because then she was doubled over in pain – and he had kissed her forehead and her lips hard. "Just come back alive," she had whispered, and he had nodded, before disappearing into the dark night with Sirius. He had berated himself the entire way to the Order headquarters, but Sirius kept pulling him onward. "She told you to go," he had said. "So let's go, and get back. Preferably in one piece. So that Lily doesn't kill us."
And so he had gone.
The battle had been longer than he had wanted, lasting well over four hours, with James barely having a moment to stop and catch his breath. He was exhausted and aching, and his mind wouldn't stop wandering back to the subject of Lily. He closed his eyes and pictured her face, how terrified and determined she had looked when he left. When he had left her there, in their home, alone and pregnant and worried.
He heard footsteps pounding the pavement in front of him. His eyes snapped open and he jumped off the wall, poised his wand. The footsteps were frantic and quick, and a silhouette was illuminated by the streetlamps in the background. "Prongs? That you?" a voice called from the darkness.
James rubbed his face and let his arm fall to the side. "Merlin, Sirius. Scared the hell out of me."
"Sorry." Sirius appeared in front of him, his face grimy, minor cuts and scrapes dotting his cheek and left arm.
"How's Remus? Peter? Dorcas? Shit, is Hestia okay, because she was feeling a bit peaky earlier, and -"
"James, for Godric's sake, take a breath." James gave him a pointed look. "And, yes, everyone's fine. Except for me, if we don't get you back, because Lily will certainly murder me."
James allowed himself a small smile, and then nodded once. They had lived. They had survived one more night, there weren't any casualties (for them, anyway). And it felt good, damn it.
"Yes. Yeah. We need to go. But first let's get Remus and Peter."
The pair set off to find the other half of the Marauders, and once all four were rejoined, they Apparated to Godric's Hollow.
The dead leaves of the dry summer blew across the street as they landed in their usual Apparition point, James sprinting the instant his feet hit the ground. The other three followed at a similar pace. They passed through the wooden gate, James quickly unlocking the door silently and running through. He paused for a fraction of a second when they entered, listening for anything amiss.
And then he heard Lily's scream of pure pain, and his feet moved again.
Up the stairs, through the hall, to the bedroom, through the closed door, and into the room.
Lily was lying on the bed, her hands gripping the white sheet that was laid over their bed. Her face was reddened and slicked with sweat, her fiery hair pulled into a knotted ponytail. James hated that look on her face; it was the one that haunted his nightmares, that image of agony written into her beautiful features.
The witch from St. Mungo's was by Lily's legs, sitting on a small stool, a few nurses behind her with their necessary equipment. "Push, Lily," she was saying in a shockingly even tone. "Push."
James ran over to his wife, kneeling beside the bed. He reached up to brush back her hair from her face, and at his touch, her eyes snapped over to him. Her right hand released the sheet instantly, fumbling for his hand. She looked so ecstatic, so relieved, and when she smiled at him wearily, he couldn't help but smile back.
Just then, another contraction came, Lily's scream permeating the air. And, at the same instant, a second scream echoed; a horrific yell that silenced the entirety of the room. The doctor beamed at Lily, cutting the umbilical cord swiftly and handing the baby over to the nurses to tidy it up.
Lily looked completely exhausted, but she refused to let herself close her eyes. Her hands were trembling and her eyes looked terrified, as if the nurses would keep her child from her. "Is my baby okay? Will someone tell me if my baby is okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse and quivering.
The witch, with the baby swaddled in her arms, smiled at Lily again and placed it into her awaiting arms. "It's a boy," the woman whispered.
Lily's fingers trailed over her baby's head – my son, she thought, amazed – a smile tugging up her lips. She turned her face to James, her own awe echoed in his eyes and face, and he leaned down to press a firm kiss to her lips. "Lily Potter, I love you."
She laughed, touched his face gently. "You came back alive," she murmured, her voice laced with weariness.
"You told me to. Couldn't really disobey, now could I?"
She smiled. Turning back towards their son, their beautiful baby with tufts of unruly black hair on his head, Lily whispered, "He's perfect."
"He gets that from his mother."
"Yes, well, he looks quite like you. A pity, really."
"But he's got your eyes," James said, reaching forward to touch his son's hand. The baby's chubby finger clasped on tightly to his father's significantly larger one, and Lily heard his sharp intake of breath.
"I've been thinking about a name, during this leisurely process of birthing him," Lily said, a twinkle in her eye.
"Yes?" James asked, his voice still quiet as he watched his son's tiny hand.
"I like Harry. Harry James."
James looked up at her, and he was almost positive she was the most perfect person he could have found, that he would never – could never – love someone as much as he loved her. "Harry James Potter," he stated. "I like it."
"Never mind us over here," Sirius coughed into his hand.
Lily's head shot up to take in the scene: the three men (boys, really, she thought) crowding the door to the bedroom. They were all looking equal parts happy and shocked, but none of them had dared breach the entrance just yet. Lily laughed, beckoning them in.
"Couldn't you have done that in… a hospital or something?" Peter groaned quietly.
Lily laughed again and shook her head. "Too dangerous. Besides, didn't you enjoy the show?"
The three of them shuddered, and took their positions around the mother's bed.
Sirius stood next to James, and Peter and Remus went around to Lily's other side. The nurses and doctor were in the back, cleaning. "Say hello, Harry," Lily murmured, positioning him so all four of them could see.
James clapped Sirius on the back, a crooked grin on his face as he looked at his best friend. "And you'll be the godfather, of course, mate."
Sirius looked up with questioning in his eyes, but as James' firm look, he let himself smile. "Of course, Prongs. Of course."
The nurses and doctor bade their goodbyes, shaking the proud father's hand and smiling at the natural mother on the bed. The boys had retrieved chairs, all of them sitting around her bed. "My boys," she sighed. "All of my boys."
While the four of them fell asleep one by one – first Peter, then Sirius, then Remus, and, lastly, James – Lily laid awake, her arms cradling her child, as she sang soft songs to him.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Pretty please read & review and leave me your thoughts. I love you all so much, and I am eternally grateful for you and your attention.
xoxo, Hannah
