ii.
"Are you sure about this?" Lily asks him gently.
The truth is he's not and he almost tells her so. For the hundredth time that day, he almost, almost changes his mind. But then he looks across the room to the mantle over the fireplace at a picture of the Marauders back at Hogwarts during their fifth year. It's exactly three days before The Prank and when James looks at the picture just right, he can see everything building up to that moment.
Remus is obviously tired and usually just sits next to the tree, book in hand, glancing up at the camera now and then with a weak smile. Occasionally he nods off, exhausted by the weight of the waxing moon.
Peter mostly just grins hugely and listens attentively to whatever Sirius or James is saying, waving cheerily at the camera once in a while. Sirius and James, though… Sirius and James are trouble. Oh sure, sometimes they talk to Peter or Sirius makes a grab for Remus' book, but more often than not Snape or some other Slytherin wanders through the corner of the shot and then there's a problem.
He used to think this picture was funny – a living reminder of a thousand pranks pulled throughout their boyhood years. Water balloons filled with shampoo get pelted at Snape. The head of the Slytherin house wanders through with hair charmed red and gold. It all seemed so harmless at the time. And that, of course, is exactly the problem. It doesn't seem harmless to him now, not in retrospect. Sirius, however, still finds it mostly funny.
"Yes," he tells Lily, nodding. "Yes, I'm sure."
He's lying, but it's obvious and he's mostly lying to himself, so Lily lets it be and just squeezes his hand before placing it on her slightly swelling belly. And that, that is all the reassurance he needs – will ever need.
Sirius will not understand this decision. He'll be angry and hurt and he'll act like a spoilt child who's not gotten the toy he wants, but this is so much more important than Sirius' bruised ego.
"He'll get over it," Lily says confidently.
James isn't quite sure that's true. Sirius might forgive him anything, but he'll never quite get over it. He's held a grudge against Snape for "accidentally" tripping him on the platform to the Hogwarts Express as they headed to school for the first time. Nearly nine years later, that grudge has yet to show signs of fading.
But then that's exactly the point, isn't it? Sirius has never grown-up, never will grow-up. He'll forever be one of those Lost Boys, living for the moment, taking risks and shirking responsibility. That's all fine and good for a best mate. It's an entirely different matter when choosing your child's godfather.
"I can't let this be about hurting Sirius' feelings," James says, brushing his wife's copper hair behind her ear.
That the role of godfather is more than just a title goes unsaid between them, but it's still hanging there thickly in the air like an ever-present fog that half-obscures everything. This is wartime, of course, and both of them are caught right in the middle of it. Lily's not gone out on missions for the Order since they learned of her pregnancy, but as a muggleborn married to a pureblood she's at the center of the conflict all the same.
The thought of his Lily as a target sends chills down James' spine. She grasps his hand again, giving it a tight squeeze, and his mind calms instantly.
She's always been able to do this, to draw his mind into the here-and-now and away from the 'what ifs' and 'should haves' that muddle his wits. She's not, by nature, an optimist, but she'll not allow anyone to wallow in the things they can't change. There are times for moments of hesitation, she's said, and those times are when we plan, not when we act. For a woman he loathes to see involved in this war, she makes one hell of a soldier.
"It's okay to question this, James," she tells him, as if reading his mind. "I know I have."
He looks up at her, surprised at this.
"But, I thought…" he starts.
She laughs delicately and it seems utterly impossible that these same twinkling eyes have seen the very worst of what wizard-kind has to offer.
"You thought I'd be happy you weren't choosing Sirius?" she asks.
"Our personalities may clash some," she admits. "He acts rashly and he's temperamental and he can be very childish at times…"
"Don't hold back, honey," James says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Tell me what you really think."
She smacks his arm lightly in rebuke before continuing.
"He's as loyal a friend as they come," she smiles. "I've no doubt that he'd give up his life to save our child."
She hesitates a moment, as if there is something they've purposefully left unsaid because saying it makes it real.
He traces her wedding band with his thumb and nods for her continue.
"But," she says warily. "If something happens to us, we won't need someone to die for our child; we'll need someone to live for it. We'll need someone who can feed the baby at three in the morning and change its nappies and teach it to read."
Part of James, the part that helped Sirius add skele-gro to Snape's nasal spray potion back in second year, wants to defend his best friend, but most of him recognizes that his wife is right. Sirius is the person you want with you in a bar fight or a quiddich game. He's not the person you want as your child's guardian.
No, he's made the right choice, he decides and he's about to tell Lily this when their fireplace glows green and a familiar pudgy form plops through, landing square on his arse and covered in a fine sheen of ash and soot.
"James!" scolds Lily. "How many times have I asked you to clean out the chimney?"
James winces at her tone as he reaches out and offers a hand to their guest.
"Sorry, Pete," he says, helping his friend up and clapping him soundly on the back in greeting.
"S'alright," Peter says with a forgiving shrug and a light smile. "Your chimney is no where near as bad as Sirius'. If ever there was ever anyone who needed a house elf…"
James chuckles a bit at this, but quickly covers it with an entirely unconvincing cough as he catches Lily's steely gaze.
"Yes, well… let's not judge our home's cleanliness in comparison to the bachelor pad, hum?" Lily says, smiling with that look all women have that says you'll fix this as soon as possible, are we in agreement? Only, of course, it's not actually a question. James, who – to his great fortune – decoded this particular look years ago, nods and puts his hands up in surrender.
"Speaking of the boys, aren't they here yet?" Peter asks, glancing around the room and tossing a cashew into his mouth from a small bowl on the end table.
"Actually, it's just us tonight, Pete," James tells him.
Peter stops mid-chew, his mouth still ever-so-slightly open.
"Just us?" He asks, because surely he's heard James wrong. "Did Remus and Sirius cancel or something?"
"No, I only invited you," replies James with a funny look on his face. "I thought I told you."
Peter has to force himself to finish chewing the cashew and swallow, because James has never, ever in the years they've known each other only invited him to do anything.
To be honest he's always felt a bit like a third-wheel (or fourth, or occasionally fifth). He's never had Sirius' easygoing nature or Remus' quiet but creative mischievous side. He's just Pete. He's the guy they always sent down to the kitchens when the pilfered treacle tart ran out. He's the guy they asked to watch their schoolbags while they raced brooms across the quiddich pitch. He's reliable, dependable and loyal, but he's not the first person anyone invites to anything.
"But… why?" Peter finally sputters. "Did something happen? Are you and Sirius having a row? What did he do this time?"
That funny look is back on James' face and Lily is looking at him with an odd combination of amusement and pity.
"No, Peter. We just wanted to spend some time with you… and we had an idea we wanted to run past you, too," James says, sharing a secret smile with Lily.
"It's just… you never just invite me over," Peter says, still a bit stunned.
"Oh," James says shuffling his feet and glancing at Peter a bit sheepishly. "Well, with the baby coming and all and the wedding before that. Well, you know. We've been really busy."
Peter nearly blurts out that he doesn't just mean lately, he means ever, but catches himself just in time. He's not fool enough to question his luck here again. How many times had he sat behind in the common room while Sirius and James snuck out to Hogsmede because the invisibility cloak certainly couldn't have hidden three of them? How many times had he stood guard while the other three'd had the real fun executing some prank? He had no idea.
"Can I get you boys something to drink?" Lily asks, interrupting his thoughts.
"Butterbeer would be nice," Peter tells her.
"Forget butterbeer," James says, clapping Peter on the shoulder. "Let's break out that bottle of Dragon's Breath Brandy, Lils."
"You would want to drink that when I'm pregnant and can't have any alcohol," Lily says rolling her eyes, but she's already on her way to get it anyhow.
James studies Peter for a moment like he's not sure what to say next and Peter is all too aware of the scrutiny. The smaller man looks wholly uncomfortable in his own skin, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, eyes darting around the room aimlessly.
"You know, Pete," James says slowly, sitting down and gesturing for Peter to do the same. "I can count the number of people in the world that I truly trust on my fingers and still have enough left to make a rude gesture."
Peter bristles suddenly, extremely nervous of where this conversation is headed. He hasn't even done anything yet. He's only agreed to talk with some people and surely that can't be a crime. And even if it is, how could James possibly know about it?
"These are dangerous times," Peter agrees non-committally.
Apparently he's said the right thing, he realizes, relaxing as a big smile takes over James' face.
"Yes," James says. "They are."
James has never been able to sit still for long and so it doesn't surprise Peter at all when James stands up and starts pacing in front of the fireplace like a caged animal.
"You know, people said we were nuts when Lily and I announced we were going to have a baby," James tells him. "They said we were foolish to take that kind of a risk with a war on."
"Let them mind their own business," Peter scoffs. "If they want to let You-Know-Who put their lives on hold, that's up to them."
"Exactly!" James says, eyes twinkling with delight that Peter understands where he's coming from, which is, of course, exactly why Peter said what he'd said in the first place. "But, you see, that doesn't mean we can be totally unprepared for possible consequences."
At this point, Peter has no idea what James is getting at, so he just makes agreeable noises and nods appropriately while his brain works overtime trying to connect the dots. Lily comes back into the room with two glasses of Dragon's Breath Brandy for them and sits where James had been perched on the settee moments before.
"The thing of it is, Peter," James says, glancing at Lily for reassurance. "Lily and I know there's a chance that something could happen to us. And we want to make sure our child will be okay if we aren't around to take care of it."
"Plan for the worst. Hope for the best," Peter agrees.
"Right!" James says excitedly. "That's why we wanted to ask you to be our child's godfather."
There is dead silence for a long moment in the room and Peter very nearly drops his brandy. His jaw hangs loose and his eyes bug out, looking back and forth between Lily and James.
"You… You want me to be your child's godfather?" Peter asks, suddenly looking around the room as though he expects Sirius to pop out and say AH HA! Got you! because surely this is a joke, a prank. Obviously Sirius is meant to be James' child's godfather.
"You don't have to answer right away," James tells him, totally misreading Peter's disbelief. "Take some time to think about it."
"But… what about Sirius?" Peter asks stunned.
"What about him?" James asks, no longer pacing and suddenly a bit defensive.
"Well, he's your best mate, isn't he? Why would you choose me?" Peter asks.
James winces almost imperceptibly at this.
"We're all mates, Peter. You know that. We're marauders," James says, sidestepping the question.
"But Sirius is Sirius and I'm just me!" Peter insists.
Lily laughs a bit at this and smiles kindly at his confused glance.
"Sirius is a good friend and a good man," Lily says. "And if you say no to this, which we would completely understand, we'll probably ask him. But Peter, this is something we trust you with."
"You're a good man and a good friend, too, Peter," James tells him. "But you're also level-headed and reliable where Sirius is… not. We trust you to keep your head on straight and do what you have to in order to keep our child safe, if anything happens to us."
Peter very suddenly wants to cry, which is stupid because he hasn't cried since fourth-year when his grandmother died, but this is something that really gets to him. For the nine years he's known James, all Peter has ever wanted, ever needed from his friend was acceptance as an equal. And after all this time he finally, finally has it.
This isn't just James asking him to distract their potions professor while he and Sirius slip some belladonna root into the dreamless sleep potion brewing. It isn't even like James and Sirius and him deciding to become animagi for Remus. No, this is James picking him over everyone else. This is James asking him to be part of his family and not asking Sirius or Remus.
A huge grin breaks out over Peter's face and his ego swells with pride for the first time in a long time. He is needed and accepted and special and it feels so much better than he'd ever thought it would.
"I don't need to think about it. I'd be honored to be your child's godfather," he says with an air of confidence he's never possessed before.
James claps him on the back in a kind of half-hug like quiddich players after winning a game, like teammates. And Lily comes up and hugs him full on, kissing him on the cheek.
"I knew I could count on you, mate," James tells him with a lopsided grin as he pushes his glasses back up his nose.
"Can you stay for dinner, Peter?" Lily asks him.
"Oh," Peter says quietly thinking about what he was supposed to do tonight. But suddenly this is so much more important and he doesn't really remember why he was going to do that other thing anyhow.
"Well, I was supposed to meet some co-workers… to talk about this… extra project," he says vaguely. "But, I don't think I'm going to do it, now. It would probably take up too much time and I want to be here for my godchild. So, yes. I'll stay."