Hi Sriya! Here is the information for your Jily Secret Santa partner: AJ, dontchasethe-quaffle, Gryffindor. Wishlist: fic; prompt: "lots of fluff!" No M-rated, please.
Snow flurries outside the windows of Potter Cottage, and the baby is crying.
A light flickers on, and James Potter groans. "I'll go," he says to his wife, whose hands are thrown over her eyes. She makes an unintelligible noise of gratitude, and turns over, sinking back into sleep.
Sliding his feet into his slippers, he shuffles out of the bedroom and down the hall, lighting his wand. Pushing open the door to Harry's room, he taps the little lamp twice with his wand so that the room is bathed in dim light, and walks over to his son's cot. The baby is lying on his back, face red and screwed up in misery.
"Hey, hey, little mate," he murmurs, picking him up and gingerly feeling his nappy. "What's wrong? You're okay there...you're not sick, are you? C'mon, let's have a look."
Tucking Harry into the crook of one arm, he pulls out his wand and performs a basic diagnostics spell. "Nothing wrong there...maybe you just can't sleep, hmm? Okay, okay, let's go for a walk."
Murmuring nonsense under his breath, he walks slowly around the room. The baby quietens after a few seconds and lies still in his arms, eyes wide and unblinking as he watches his father.
"Your eyes are getting lighter, love. Maybe they'll go green, like your mum's. I hope so, you know. You've got enough of the Potter genes. Look at that hair. You're going to have a fine time getting that to lie flat, I can tell you now. I still haven't managed it and I've got twenty years on you."
Harry babbles something and smiles, waving his arm at James.
"Yeah, I see you. You've got a good arm, you know that? You'll be Dad's little Chaser one day. Or maybe Seeker. Yeah, that sounds about right. Harry James Potter, Gryffindor Seeker." He walks towards the window and stares out. "Look at that snow. We'll have a white Christmas this year. Your first Christmas, Harry. You'll love it. There's presents involved."
Harry suddenly makes a grab for his glasses.
"Ah-no, no, give those back. No rush for that. You'll get them before long, if these Potter genes have anything to say for themselves."
"I thought you wanted him to have my eyes?" He turns, and Lily is there, framed by the open door. Her eyes are still sleepy but she smiles at her husband, looking extraordinarily like their son.
"He might get your eye colour, but bad eyesight is practically destined for you, isn't it, Harry? All the Potters have had shi-sheep eyesight."
"Sheep?" Lily's laughing as she comes towards them, reaching her arms out for her son, who goes to her willingly.
"Yeah, sheep. Haven't you ever seen a sheep with glasses?"
"Can't say I ever have."
"Well then, maybe you're the one he'll get the bad eyesight from."
She laughs again, and the sound of it warms James like Firewhiskey. He slips an arm around her, and the three of them stare out of the window for a long moment. The silence is broken by Harry's tiny yawn.
"Someone's getting sleepy," says Lily, lifting the baby up and smiling at him. "Why can't you sleep tonight, hmm? You've been a very good boy recently. You've not woken Mummy and Daddy up for weeks."
"He's been restless all day. Wouldn't eat properly either. I think he's picking up on-everything."
Lily frowns. "That might be right, actually. Maybe we shouldn't have any more Order meetings here."
James smiles humourlessly. "Where else would we go? Potter House is the safest place. It's not like we can go all the way up to Hogwarts every week, and anyway -"
"-there are kids there," she finishes. She brushes a hand over her son's face. His eyes are drooping. "There are kids here. We're practically kids, James."
"I know."
"We joined when we were eighteen, that's only just adulthood in Muggle terms. We could've died. We almost did, and nobody was calling us kids then, but we were. I know there's nowhere else to go, but god, James. I didn't want my life to be the war as well. It's bad enough that work is. "
"I know, Lily. I do. I never wanted this, but I guess that we signed up for it."
"You might have, but-I never did. Sorry," she says, passing a hand over her eyes. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't snap at you. Here, take him. I reckon we can put him back in the cot now. He's half-asleep."
"Yeah." He lifts his son into the air, achingly aware of the small weight. He lays the baby down, and draws his knitted blanket safe around him. Harry blinks sleepily before closing his eyes. "It's not my fault, but it's not yours, either. And you're right, you never signed up for this. It was a stupid thing to say, you had no choice, and I-well, I never thought it'd end up like this. Sometimes I wonder whether we're going to make it out."
And this is the thing about them. Because James? He's not the serious one. He laughs and makes jokes and provides the lightness that is so desperately needed, because someone's got to. Because Remus is spying in the werewolf divisions of Voldemort's army and refuses to tell anyone what he's seen, apart from the fragile bones of the thing. Because Peter is terrified out of his mind and James knows it, and because Sirius is just so angry and he knows that, too. Because honestly? They're losing the war, and people are dying who were his friends, and because they're too damn young to fight in battles so bloody, and because to acknowledge the fact is to admit that they can't do it anymore, and because they have to fight for as long as they're standing, because there was never really another option for Lily, and where Lily goes, James is by her side. Because Lily is the only one who really knows how fucking terrified James is, and because when he's there behind everyone else, she's there holding his hand, and for all his life he's been wondering about love like every other foolish kid out there, and this is the best definition he's ever had.
So he tells her the truth and she tells him the truth, and they don't try and comfort each other with a pretty lie, because that's just not what marriage is. That's not what love is. And that's what makes James fight, really. Sirius fights because he's angry and Frank fights for his son and Lily fights because she has to, but James? Well, suffice it to say that if it weren't for her, he'd have taken Harry and run long ago. Because logically, it's not worth risking his son to fight this losing battle.
(Love, James has found, has no real place for logic.)
"I'm scared, too. I think I could live with not making it out if it weren't for - no, that's a lie. I couldn't ever be okay with dying. Maybe a few years ago. I could've said that and believed it then. But now..." She rubs her eyes. "I don't know. I never knew it'd be like this. I guess - I just didn't know."
He drags his eyes away from his son, finally sleeping peacefully, and looks at his wife. She is illuminated by the moon, hair and skin turned silvery in its light. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and she looks small. He crosses the room and hugs her, burying his face in her shoulder.
"I know. I s'pose you never really knew our world before. It was - better, I think. But worse, too. I don't know. I was too young to see the bad stuff. You know, how kids grow up believing that the world's a pretty good place. All the wars and things happened in the past. My granddad told me stories about Grindelwald and I thought, well, good job that's all done and over with. I had a bit of a rude awakening at school."
"Me, too. I thought it would be - well, magical. Sorry about the pun."
He half-smiles, then sobers once more. "I'm sorry you only ever got to see the war. It shouldn't have been that way."
She leans back into him, smiling. "Hmm, I did get the good bits of the wizarding world, too. I married you, didn't I?"
"You got the good bits, did you? Well, I can agree with that."
She swats his arm, giggling. "No innuendo in front of the baby, James."
"Oh, he's asleep. And he's going to get used to it eventually. Why did we make Sirius his godfather, again?"
"Because we were desperate, and Remus wasn't around. And because he's the least likely to poison our son, worst comes to worst."
"Fair enough."
There is silence for a few moments before James speaks up, barely loud enough to be heard. "What if we do die, Lily? What if Sirius does have to look after him?
"He'll be okay. Sirius loves him, you know he does. He's even...well, mildly responsible around him."
"No, I know that. I mean that I don't - I want to raise him. I want to be his dad."
She turns around in his arms and looks up at him. "Oh, James. You will be, even if we do die. Sirius won't forget you, and he won't let Harry forget you, either."
"I don't want to die, Lily." He refuses to look at her, just keeps gazing down at the face of his son, his beautiful boy, and feels like crying because it's not fair, it's not fair that they're barely in their twenties and they're worried about dying.
"Me either, James. I don't want to - okay, here's an idea. I don't want to die, and you don't want to die, so let's promise each other that we won't. Not forever, just for tomorrow. Okay? And then we'll look out for ourselves especially tomorrow, because we'll have promised." She touches his face lightly, meeting his gaze."I'll go first. I promise we won't die tomorrow. Now you."
He rests his forehead on hers. "I promise we won't die tomorrow."
"Now that's that. We won't die tomorrow. And we'll do that every day until the war is over, okay? We'll survive like that."
He kisses her, slow and sweet. "I love you," he breathes against her lips.
"I love you too. I'm so - glad that we're here, James. I'm so glad we're together right here in Godric's Hollow today, and I'm glad we've got Harry. And...you know, the war is terrible and awful and I hate it and I'm so scared, but even through that, I'm - I'm glad we're here."
"Me too, Lily. I'm glad, too." And he is. That's really the only word for what he's feeling because yeah, he's scared. He's scared he or Lily will die and leave Harry alone, he's angry because of the unfairness of it all, he's worried about Sirius and Remus and Peter and the whole damn Order, he's not prepared and he's never been, really. But then - he's got Lily. He's got Harry. And you know, maybe it's because of the war, or maybe it's despite it, but there is such a wealth of love for them within him that it - doesn't make up for all the things he's lost, or all the things he's yet to lose, but it does make him glad.
"Now, let's go to bed, shall we? There's work to be done tomorrow." Slipping out of his arms, she takes his hand, tugging him gently towards the door.
He pauses, glancing for a final time at Harry, sleeping soundly. "I'll get Dumbledore to find a new place for the Order meetings. He'll understand. He'll figure something out."
"Okay." She squeezes his hand. "We'll do it together. Why don't we ask our other Order friends around tomorrow? We can do the tree, and ask him there."
"Alright. Let's."
They walk back to their room, and slip into bed. James takes off his glasses, and Lily shakes out her hair from its hastily thrown up ponytail.
"Goodnight, James."
"Goodnight, Lily."