A/N: First, a big thank you to my first three reviewers: aggies2015, Magic and the Marauders and Ondo Maximum. Siriusly, thank you .

Anywho, I've decided to continue on with this as a story and not just a series of one-shots, because as aggies2015 said, it's just too much to leave it as a bunch of one-shots. I hope you all like what I have in store for this story and hopefully it's not so cliche. I'm still debating whether or not to make Bellatrix the villain but that's another issue. Just one quick question: any ideas for a love interest for Harry? Should I stick with Ginny? I've been thinking about Daphne Greengrass because, for some reason, I like the idea of them being together. Any other ideas guys?

Oh, and before I forget, just in case anyone's interested, updates won't be coming too soon for this story. I'm already working on another two stories as it is and they're my top priority right now. This update was quick, but only because this chapter was really easy to write. BUT, if you'd like updates to be quicker, leaving a review might make me write faster.

Yeah, totally did just bribe you guys ;)

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd probably be lounging around in my private island, not stuck in a house with a broken AC :p

Chapter 1: Not Quite Over

Voldemort's dead.

Those two simple words had brought an enormous amount of happiness and relief to the young woman with the crimson curls. She had allowed herself, for the first time in almost a year, to finally let her guard down as she felt tears of happiness trickle down her cheek.

And perhaps it was wrong to be glad over somebody's death, but Voldemort was dead and her son was safe. Harry was safe and that was all that mattered.

How? she remembered herself asking. She wanted to know exactly what had brought upon the demise of the man who had caused so much death and destruction.

Sirius had obliged, telling her about the Horcruxes, all five of them.

He vaguely told her of coming across the locket, before going to Dumbledore. It astounded her, how fast the three men—Sirius, Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, whom they had included in their quest after a second's hesitation—had worked.

Dumbledore had provided them insight into the mind of Voldemort. It seemed that those months Dumbledore had spent obsessing over Voldemort's past, or Tom Riddle as he had once been known, since learning of the Prophecy had really paid off.

They had found the ring first, hidden amongst the debris of an old home—Riddle's old family home to be exact. The diadem had been next, which Sirius had recalled seeing in the Room of Hidden Things during one of his expeditions of the school. Moody had helped with the diary, recalling one like it during one of his raids at the Malfoy Manor.

The goblet had been harder to come across, but Dumbledore, knowing Riddle all too well had suggested that perhaps it was hidden where Riddle himself thought made a wizard a wizard: Gringotts. It had taken some time, but they had finally deducted that since Malfoy had already been in possession of one of his Horcruxes, the next must have been left in the hands of his most trusted servants: the Lestranges. Dumbledore had collected a debt owed to him by the goblins to acquire this missing Horcrux.

He spoke of how they had destroyed them, one by one until only the soul that resided in Voldemort was left. He didn't speak of Voldemort's death and Lily knew better than to ask.

It didn't matter, anyway. All that mattered was that Voldemort was dead. She was safe. James was safe. And, most importantly, Harry was safe.

She felt elated, so elated in fact that she almost missed the overwhelming sadness lurking behind Sirius' grey eyes.

What else, happened, Sirius? she asked.

He had hesitated, but she insisted, wanting to know. And then, as it so happens in life, her happiness was stubbed by the shaggy-haired man's next words.

Peter. Peter is dead.

Peter, lovely little Peter whom had said nothing the day she had learned of the Prophecy that had kept her captive for almost a year, just held her in his arms as she wept. He didn't try to comfort her like James had, or cheer her up like Sirius nor did he offer words of advice like Remus had. He had stayed silent, letting her get off her chest what she so desperately needed.

Peter, whom had always lamented himself of being a little more than a Squib, of not being as powerful and as brave as he thought a Gryffindor ought to be. How ironic it was then, that it was the same bravery he didn't know he possessed that allowed her heart to continue beating, pulsing blood through her veins as she picked up her small son, cradling him in her arms.

She had escaped, moments before, to her son's room when they had started discussing Peter's death. She felt it was too much for her to bear, to learn how this brave, brave man had died, allowing them to live. It just felt so wrong.

But a part of her—the selfish part of her—couldn't help but feel relieved.

Because, to think, if it hadn't been for Peter, they could all be dead now. Or worse.

She shook her head, not allowing herself to dwell on the possibility as she looked down at her son. At just one year of age, Harry looked extraordinarily like James, from the mischievous glint in his eyes to his untidy jet-black hair. Except for his eyes. He had her eyes. The same striking shade of green that captivates the heart and pierces the soul.

Or, at least that was what James had told her once.

Harry stirred sleepily in her hands and Lily smiled—the first true smile she had managed ever since they had been forced into hiding. It felt wrong to, with Peter's death hanging over her like a dark cloud, but she couldn't help but feel relieved that her little family had gone through this whole ordeal unscathed.

It had been thanks to Peter's sacrifice that she could now hold her sleeping son in her arms and know that he was safe, for once. And she would be forever grateful to Peter because of it.

"And what happened to the Longbottoms?" she heard Marlene's soft voice whisper as she re-entered their small sitting room.

They were all seated on the large sofa, a half-full bottle of firewhisky placed on the table before them. The fire was in its last stages, burning dimly, giving the room a gloomy feeling, which suited it just fine because Peter was dead and it just didn't feel right.

She took a seat next to her husband, taking his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She could feel James relax as he returned the pressure. She turned to the conversation at hand, with great interest. She had been so overwhelmed when she had learned of Peter's death that she had almost forgotten that Alice, one of her best friends, had also been forced into hiding.

"Dumbledore has suggested they remain in hiding, for now," Sirius responded, looking incredibly tired.

He looked twice his age at the moment; but, then again, they all did. War does that to you, sometimes. Ages you until you are hardly recognisable; just a shell of your former self.

"What happens next?" Lily asked softly, after a minute of silence.

"Next, we round up his followers," Sirius spoke up, heaving a great, weary sigh. "Just because Voldemort is dead doesn't make the Death Eaters less of a threat. If anything, they are most dangerous now. They will want revenge. The Lestrange's especially." He turned to look at them then, looking almost apologetic. "Dumbledore believes that it would be best if you send Harry away, just until this whole thing blows over. He believes that way, Harry would be safer."

Lily could feel her anger rising. How dare Dumbledore suggest such a thing? She knew the Headmaster was only looking out for them, but that was ridiculous! How could her son be safer anywhere else? She was his mother; she would never let anything harm her son.

"No," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice down. "He's staying with us."

"Tell Dumbledore Harry isn't going anywhere," James said through gritted teeth, sounding as angry as she felt. "Our son is going to stay with us and that is final."

"I told him you would never agree. He wanted me to run the idea by you, anyway," Sirius said, managing a small smile. "Then it would be best if you remain in hiding as well, for the time being."

"But that could take weeks, even months," James said in frustration, passing a hand through his already untidy hair. "I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to help. I want to fight."

Lily sighed; she knew exactly how he was feeling. They had been in hiding for almost a year and she could already feel it catching up to her; she could perfectly recall every single crevice in their home if she closed her eyes.

But, if it was for their safety, what was a few more months of hiding? It would pass before they knew it and then, they'd be free again. She turned to her husband and opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut-off.

"Prongs," the shabby man spoke up and James turned to look at him. "I know what you're going through, but—"

"With all respect, Remus," James snapped, interrupting him, "but no, you don't. You weren't forced into hiding because some bloody lunatic was after your family. Voldemort wasn't after your son."

"Yeah, maybe I wasn't forced into hiding, and maybe they aren't my wife and son, but you are my family," Remus said quietly, making James' frustrated expression soften. "Don't think for a minute that I don't know what you've been going through. I already lost my parents and Dorcas. Now Peter. You five are all I have left; I don't want to lose you too."

James hung his head, rubbing a hand across his tired face as he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Moony. It's just, I'm tired, you know? I just want this to be over. And I don't want to stay here, doing nothing."

Remus sighed. "We all are, Prongs. But it'll be over soon; the Order is working alongside the Auror Department to capture the remaining Death Eater's as quickly as possible."

"Remus is right, James," Lily said softly. "I'm sure they've got the best people out there, looking for them. It'll be over before we know it and then we'll be able to get on with our lives."

James exhaled loudly, turning to Sirius as he clasped his wife's hand in his. "D'you think we'll be safe here?" He paused, measuring his words. "With our Secret-Keeper gone?" He didn't say it, but the words still hung over them: With Peter dead.

Sirius hesitated. "I don't see why not; Dumbledore said nothing against , to be on the safe side, you should probably get another Secret-Keeper. I could do it," he offered.

"No, I'll do it," Marlene said calmly, as if she were commenting on the weather or any other menial thing. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at her, but she was only focused on one in particular: the man with the grey eyes. "You said so yourself the first time, Sirius. You'd be the obvious choice and so would Remus. Nobody would suspect me. And it would just be temporarily, until this whole thing blows over."

"You're Lily's best friend," he reminded her, looking at her pleadingly. "Almost like a sister to James. And—I can't let you, Marls." He didn't say it, but it was still there, hanging on the air around them: I can't lose you too.

"We could go to Dumbledore," Lily suggested quickly, before Marlene could protest. "He offered the last time; I don't see why we couldn't ask him now."

James sighed. "I think Dumbledore has plenty on his plate right now to worry about."

"There always is another option," Remus said, almost to himself as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He paused, running a hand through his sandy hair as they all turned to him. "Although I'm not sure if it would work."

"Well, spit it out, Moony. We haven't got all day."

He sighed, speaking after a moment's hesitation. "You could always be your own Secret-Keeper."

"Please tell me you're joking," James said, feeling his frustration rising. How easier this whole ordeal would have been, had he known that one year ago. Then maybe Peter could have survived.

"It's just a theory I've been working on, Prongs. I cannot guarantee its effectiveness. After I learned that you two were to take on a Secret-Keeper, I did a bit of research and I haven't found anything that would stop you from being your own Secret-Keeper. There's no previous history about being one's own Secret-Keeper, but it is a really old spell and its effectiveness when using others has never been disputed."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" James demanded, trying to keep his anger under control.

"You never asked," Remus responded calmly. He didn't sound reproachful or angry, just the tiniest bit hurt.

James sighed. How stupid he had been, to ever doubt his friends.

"I'm sorry, Remus. We were just so scared and confused and—"

"You don't have to apologise, James," Remus said with a small smile, cutting James off. "That's all behind us now. The important thing right now is keeping your family safe."

"What are we going to do, James?" Lily asked, turning to look at her husband.

James sighed. "I don't know, Lil. I like Moony's theory, but I want to run it by Dumbledore first, to make sure. I don't want to take any chances where my family's concerned."

"That'd be best," Remus agreed. "But what are you going to do tonight? Like you said, it'd be best not to push your luck."

"We could stay here," Marlene said, turning to look at Lily. "I mean, if it was okay with you. I don't think I could go home right now, knowing you still aren't safe. We could ward the house; I doubt any Death Eater will try anything stupid right now, what with all of the Wizarding World looking for them. And we aren't due at the Order Headquarters until the morning."

Lily nodded, feeling relieved. "I'd like that. I'll feel safer, knowing you're all here."

It was almost dawn by the time the Potters had finally climbed into bed, with a still-sleeping Harry securely between them. James had protested, but Lily had insisted on having their son sleep with them, if only for the night—she couldn't bear to keep him out of her sight more than she had to.

She had been laying in bed for the past ten minutes, staring at the dark ceiling; although she was exhausted, sleep wouldn't come to her. James was laying beside her, his breath even and she turned her head to him, observing his sleeping figure in the darkness. It was a scary thought, knowing that, had Peter chosen to speak, both she, her husband and her child could all be dead. Lily turned on her side and pulled Harry closer to her body, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, before turning to James' sleeping figure again.

"James?" she whispered softly, trying to determine whether or not her husband was already asleep. She didn't know what she was going to say to him; all she knew was that she needed to hear his voice, to know that he was still there.

"What is it?" James responded, voice thick with sleep. His hand found hers in the dark and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing. It's just—I love you."

"I love you, too, Lil."

Although Lily couldn't see him, she knew he was smiling. She let out a small smile of her own as she settled back down to sleep.

They slept peacefully that night for the first time in over a year, knowing that their son was finally safe.

A/N: It always bugged me that James and Lily weren't their own Secret-Keeper. I mean, Bill did it, so we can assume it would work for them as well. So I guess this was my way of explaining it: that the idea never crossed their minds. Only explanation I could come up with, other that, if they had, we wouldn't have a story, would we?

Anywho, I was going to jump around a bit, but I decided that a short explanation would be best. As for Voldemort's death, in case anyone is interested, it'll come up in one of the later chapters. Anyway, if you guys like the story so far and don't think I'm just wasting my time here, why not favorite, follow or drop a review? It'd be greatly appreciated if you did :)

Did I just ask you guys to review twice I think I did..get the hint ;) lol :p