Authors' Note: We do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, plot, or anything else you recognize, we are not making any money from this story. In truth, the story owns us. Final thanks to F. L. Butler for the severe editing to this chapter in particular. Ten points to Gryffindor for her fabulous work!
And a special shout out to musical-penguins for reviewing every chapter! We love you.
And we love everyone who reviews. (hint hint.)
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sirius Black sat with a pack of cigars and a bottle of firewiskey in the library at Potter Manor. It was a very posh place to be, all told. The walls were lined with shelves, they in turn were filled with ancient leather tomes, newer books, photographs of family members. Sirius was reclining in a leather chair, legs swung up over the arm. He turned a cigar over in his fingers, wondering if Prongs would know if he smoked one before the kid was born. Deciding he would, Sirius tossed the cigar carelessly on the side table.
Lily was upstairs in labor, had been for some time, James and the MidWitch with her. Sirius was acting as security. Although truth be told, he very much doubted the Dark Lord was going to burst through the front door at two-thirty in the afternoon. Two-thirty in the morning and Sirius might be a little more alert. Restless, he launched himself out of the chair and ostentatiously went to peruse the selection of transfiguration books.
Mad-Eye Moody had acted as security yesterday- Frank and Alice Longbottom had a little boy, Neville. If James and Lily have a daughter, they will be safe. If they have a son... well, the Dark Lord could just as easily go after the sprog. Unless the kid has the good sense to wait until after midnight. Then it will be August first, and the kid will be in the clear, boy or girl. Of course, then the Longbottoms will be targets...
Sirius wished he had never heard the damned prophecy.
He felt absolutely useless to protect his friends from the evil that was saturating Britain. So did Prongs, he could see it in his oldest friend's eyes. Ever since Dumbledore had told the prophecy to those affected, well, it was suddenly difficult to be happy about the two babies that the Order had previously rejoiced over. Sirius wondered about these boys... would they be as melancholy or dramatic as the stars they were born under? At least Sirius was godfather to one of them. He could at least try and be a distraction of sorts.
Suddenly there were thundering feet down the corridor, and the door swung wide open. James was there, wide eyed and breathless.
"Well?"
"I have a son."
"Well done, James!" he embraced him.
"Don't tell me well done; you should have seen what Lily had to do."
"I'd rather not know," Sirius said lightly. He poured each of them a drink. "To your son," he toasted.
James threw back the shot.
"His name is Harry James Potter," he said.
"To Harry James Potter!" toasted Sirius again, refilling their glasses.
"To Harry James Potter," James agreed. After tucking away their second shot, James led Sirius up to the bedroom. The MidWitch had finished tidying by then (she made James help her before he rushed to tell Sirius the news), and Lily had finished feeding the baby.
Sirius grinned at the bundle in Lily's arms, and the shock of black hair sticking off its head. "Well I can already see he takes after his father." He kissed Lily on the cheek, and conjuring some flowers, offered them to her.
She passed the baby to James to receive the flowers. "Thank you, Sirius. They're lovely."
"They're not lilies!" he said, proud of himself. He had learned that lesson early on.
Lily laughed. Sirius wondered how she could be so calm. "Don't let James hog the baby. It's only right the godfather should get to hold his god son."
There was a mock tug-of-war over the baby, before James good naturely passed the bundle. Sirius cradled his god son with no small sense of weight. Physically, the baby weighed almost nothing, a little more than a Quaffle, but the prophecy hanging over his head was almost tangible. He gently passed a hand over Harry's hair, feeling its softness. It was then the baby opened his eyes- they were exactly like Lily's.
"Whoa," said Sirius, surprised.
"Right?" said James.
Lily smiled at the men crowing over the baby's eyes.
"I though babies were born with blue eyes," said Sirius, taken aback. He looked at Lily with suspicion, "What did you do?"
"I ate only garden peas the last month," she teased.
Sirius returned his gaze to the infant, "Well whatever you did, it worked."
Harry closed his eyes again, and relaxed into sleep. "That's right, mate. You've had a traumatic day. I can only imagine the state your father was in when you popped out."
"Hey!" called James indignantly.
Sirius put his finger to his lips, shushing him in the manner of one Madame Pince. Lily chuckled. "The child is asleep. No loud noises, please."
After a few more minutes, Lily decided to kick the boys out, claiming she needed a nap, and couldn't they leave the baby and go smoke those hideous cigars that Sirius undoubtedly had brought, thank you very much.
You don't argue with a woman that has been in labor for twelve hours.
O0O0O
"Babies are weird," said James quietly, rocking his son to sleep.
"Why do you say that?" asked Lily from the bed.
"They're so delicate. I mean, his skull hasn't even fused together." James passed his hand lightly over the boy's head, feeling the slight soft spots under his fingertips.
"Thank Merlin, otherwise he wouldn't have come out as easily as he did."
"You call that easy?"
"No, I just think it would be harder if he hadn't had squished so much."
Harry was asleep now. He was doing that adorable thing with his mouth, as if sucking on an invisible nipple. Maybe he was dreaming about an endless food source? James had no way of knowing. He put Harry gently in the cradle, nudging it slightly and set it to swinging.
Lily was curled up adorably in bed, waiting for him. Everything she read about babies told her she should sleep when he did. Harry was a good baby, according to Lily's research. James liked to argue that Harry was the best baby. Lily told him she was going to withhold judgment until he could sleep through the night.
"And the way he sees everything upside down."
"He'll be growing out of that soon enough."
"And he can only see the color red. He'll probably be a Gryffindor."
Lily couldn't help but laugh. She snuggled closer to James and breathed him in. "With you and me as his parents, he probably will be thrown in to Gryffindor House."
"It's also weird that he's going to grow up and be a completely different person."
"Yeah," she agreed. "And he'll have your genes!" she whispered in mock horror.
"Hey, I was a model child."
"I'll bet," Lily shot back.
"It'll be cool to watch him grow up."
"Start walking and talking," said Lily.
"Get his first broomstick,"
Lily laughed, "Get a letter from Hogwarts..."
"Make the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, a chaser of course."
"Oh, of course," agreed Lily. "Go through school."
"Get a job."
"Get married."
James laughed. "I don't think he'll be happy we're planning out his life for him. Maybe we should focus on getting him to sleep through the night. We'll wait until he's seven to plan the wedding."
"Deal."
O0O0O
James wished he could freeze this moment forever. Lily had insisted on a Christmas Tree, so they had a small one, but it still nearly scraped the ceiling of their manor. Decorations had flooded in from all the Order members - mostly cute things that Harry could play with. With the exception of the lights, all the decorations were concentrated on the bottom half of the tree - only places where Harry's pudgy little fingers could reach.
Lily sat on the floor, gazing down at a tiny little Harry in her lap, who was reaching up with wide eyes towards an ornament of a little gnome that did a little dance from the string it hung on. James was leaning against a door frame with his arms crossed, watching the two people he loved most in the world. It was a perfect moment. Even the smell of burnt popcorn that drifted from the kitchen seemed somehow endearing.
In a few minutes, Sirius would arrive and present Harry with his very first Christmas gift ever. (James had it on good authority that Harry was getting a stuffed dragon, though no one had told Lily yet - they were worried she'd disapprove. Dragons weren't exactly cuddly, unless you were Hagrid.) Others were sure to trickle in, out of the cold, to partake in Lily's eggnog, and Harry's infectious laughter.
"What are you staring at?" Lily looked up at him with a cheeky grin. James crossed over to her, and squatted down on the carpet. He tried his best not to notice the way the light played through her auburn hair, or how beautiful she looked with Harry in her lap. A few months after their child was born, and he still couldn't keep his hands off her to save his life.
"You," he smiled back, reaching up to play with a rogue curl. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Harry's first Christmas." she murmured, and pressed her forehead against his. "I can't imagine it being more perfect."
Sex underneath the Christmas tree with spiked eggnog? was the first thought that popped into his head, but he was very good and curbed it. The amused look in her eyes told him that she probably knew what he was thinking anyway.
He was about to kiss her again when a small fist landed hard against his leg. Little Harry had gotten enough distraction out of the Christmas ornaments, and was ready to play again. James smiled, and hoisted him up in his arms.
"And you, little man." he spoke in a mock stern voice. Harry's wide green eyes seemed to grown even wider for a moment as the boy decided whether or not to take his father's new tone as serious or not, then a laugh gurgled out of those tiny little lips, and his hands flailed out again.
"Your uncle Sirius got you a very nice present this year," he smirked, already picturing his son's crazed, gleeful expression at playing with the moving, fake-fire-breathing stuffed toy. "And your mum got you something wonderful, too, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see it."
For the nine months leading up to Harry's birth, James had been worried sick. Did he really want to bring a helpless creature into this world of death and chaos? He had a hard enough time letting Lily out of his sight for even a moment, and she was a fully functioning adult, able to not only take care of herself but to kick ass and take names as well. But a baby? The child couldn't even feed itself let alone defend itself against You-Know-Who and his followers.
It wasn't until he stood beside a red-faced and crying Lily and cradled little Harry in his arms, stared into his impossibly deep green eyes (an exact mirror of Lily's) that he realized all the worrying, all the doubt didn't matter. Yes, the world was a scary place, but the child he held in his arms would make everything brighter. In Harry, James found another reason to fight on, to not lose hope.
Baby Harry was old enough now to crawl around on his chubby little legs, and crawl he did. The moment James set him down on the carpet, Harry was off like a rocket, trudging towards the kitchen in search of the cat, who had fast become the boy's best friend. James thought perhaps the cat tolerated the child rather than held any affection for him, but Harry had yet to be scratched, and he'd done more than his fair share of tail pulling.
James still worried a bit when his son wandered out of eye sight and rose to go after him, but Lily tugged on his hand and drew him back down.
"Don't worry, James," she pressed a hand to the stubble on his cheek. "Harry's fine. He's exploring."
Every single day of the past year had been one new adventure, one new worry after another. Death Eaters didn't even seem as scary now that he had to worry about whether or not his son would accidentally fall down the steps, or stick his finger into a candle flame, even if Lily had baby-proofed the manor. Still, he wouldn't trade it for the world.
Lily turned in his arms and snuggled her back against him. He wrapped his arms around her and stared up at their tree.
"Where on Earth did we get that tree topper?" he asked, and Lily snorted.
"Sirius gave it to us." she said simply. Which meant, of course, that it was the most hideous tree topper in the history of the world, and slightly resembled a niffler.
The next moment revealed a small black-topped head that poked out from behind the kitchen divider. The sight of his parents glued yet another smile on Harry's face, and he clapped his hands together. (Or attempted. He hadn't quite got the coordination down to fully hit the targets yet.)
"Come here, sweetheart," Lily held out an arm, and Harry gamely crawled over to them with a laugh. The minute he was within grabbing distance, Lily snatched him up and cuddled him to her chest. His small fists balled into her shirt as he lay his head on her breast.
This was a perfect moment, James thought as he wrapped a hand around his son's back and buried his face in Lily's hair. Absolutely perfect.
Then there was a knock on the door, and an obnoxious voice yelled,
"Open up, lovebirds! It's colder than a witch's tit out here!"
Sirius had arrived, and in fine spirits, if the loud banging was any indication. Lily laughed as she hauled herself to her feet, and scooped Harry up in her arms. James too got up and walked to the door.
When he opened the door and saw the gigantic grin on his best friend's face, he knew this was sure to be the best Christmas ever.
O0O0O
Harry's first year passed in a whirl of Lily assured everyone that he was an exceptional baby. He was good at saying "mama" and "dada," calling nearly everyone that indiscriminately. He was curious and funny and playful. But he also had a penchant to just sit and observe with his wide green eyes, as if he knew that not everything was quite right with his world, no matter how much the grown-ups liked to pretend. He would not be parted from the stuffed dragon that Sirius gave him, and among his other favorite playthings were James' glasses, Lily's earrings, and Dumbledore's long beard.
But time passed and Harry's first birthday was suddenly upon them; Lily did not want to risk a party, just tea with Bathilda Bagshot, who lived down the street. Sirius had sent Harry's first boomstick, a tiny affair that gave Harry a mad gleam in his eye. Lily couldn't deny Harry this new-found joy, but was constantly worried about him hurting himself. Because there were a lot of fragile things at Potter Manor...
O0O0O
"I... have an idea," said Sirius when he visited one rainy night in October.
"What's your idea, Padfoot?" James asked, folding socks in the library. Lily was on the floor, playing with Harry, trying to distract him from the tense adults.
"I don't think I should be your secret keeper."
"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius," said Lily, crossly.
"I'm not being ridiculous," he said calmly. "I think you should pick a different secret keeper. Suspicion will fall on me. How could it not?"
Silence fell. Harry stumbled to his godfather and lifted his arms, in the universal sign for "you'll pick me up if you know what's good for you." Sirius complied and settled the black haired boy on his lap. When Harry was comfortable, Sirius began his reasoning again.
"If I fall into wrong hands..."
"Sirius, listen," said James softly, using his real name for the first time in recent memory.
"No, James, you listen. If I don't know where you are, I can't give you up. No matter..." what the Death Eaters torture me with... the words were unspoken, but in war, especially this sort of war, you learned to listen to what was not being said.
Again the room was filled with silence. It was so thick it nearly choked them. Even Harry was observing them all silently, absent was his typical giggle.
"I am so sick of being a pawn," interrupted Lily, suddenly.
"Aren't we all, love," James stated. Not asked.
"There's not many people I trust anymore," said Sirius slowly.
James sighed. "You know how I feel about the Marauders. And we can always trust Dumbledore. And Lily, I obviously trust her. And Harry," he offered.
"Well, I think you should switch to Wormtail."
"Why not Remus? Or Dumbledore? He did offer," Lily pointed out.
"Dumbledore has enough to worry about," said James.
"Yeah, mainly about us," she argued. "About Harry."
The three adults turned to look at the person in question. Harry was still very aware of the tension in the room, observing them all from Sirius's knee with wide green eyes.
"Still. But why not Remus?" James questioned.
Sirius hesitated. It seemed like such a small thing, but... the truth of the matter was, Remus was supposed to meet Sirius at Admiralty Arch; they were supposed to guard the Queen, who was spending the week at Buckingham Palace. But Remus never showed. Sirius covered for him, not mentioning Remus in his report, nor questioning his absence. He had assumed he forgot. Stranger things have happened.
But still...
There were many close calls in the past few months that put the Potters at risk. James being tailed by potential Death Eaters while doing the shopping. Lily receiving threats while replenishing potion supplies. Both of them being spooked while at the zoo with Harry, apparating just in time for a gorilla to escape and go on that mysterious rampage...
"I just think Peter would be the most unexpected option," Sirius said finally.
Lily shrugged. "The least we can do is ask him." She stood up and stretched her back, vertebrae popping slightly. "C'mon, Harry. Time for you to practice with your toothbrush. Then maybe Sirius will read you a story." She picked him up off Sirius's lap.
Harry landed a look on Sirius that read very clearly, "you had better make good on that."
Sirius chuckled. "What's his favorite book this week?"
Because Harry was the best at listening to the silences. If Sirius didn't know better, he'd say that Harry knew everything about the delicate situation he was born into. This thought did not make him happy.
O0O0O
The thing about being married to James was that you were also married to his three best friends. And while she only slept with James, she found Peter, Remus, and Sirius constantly underfoot at Potter Manner, cracking jokes, petting the cat, raiding the pantry, even sometimes helping tidy up (that was usually Remus, actually). She didn't mind, especially after Harry was born, when she could hand off the infant to one of his uncles and catch a few minutes of sleep, or take a shower.
But now, it was just her and James. They had cast the Fidelius Charm to hide them from You-Know-Who. And while they were fine by themselves, they were also very much not fine. They were bored and lonely and scarred. Not that they didn't trust Peter to keep their secret (he was due to go into hiding soon). But if Lily was honest, the tension had been building since they found about the prophecy hanging over Harry's head, but she had been too exhausted to fight.
But these past few days, well, everything about everything annoyed her.
"James, do the washing up," she demanded. He was gazing out one of the windows again, morose and irritating.
"Please?" he prompted.
She glared at him. "I cooked. You wash up. "
He slammed his hands down on the sill of the window; the panes of glass rattled. Harry was sitting on his blanket, gnawing on toy. Lily calmly picked him up, carried him up the stairs and settled him in the crib. She left him there with his teething toys and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door. He shouldn't have to hear them fight. However calm Lily climbed the stairs, she was furious by the time she reached James in the front room.
"What is wrong?" he demanded.
"I could ask you the same thing!" she nearly shouted. "You've been moping and crying and absolutely no help to anyone."
"Well forgive me if I'm a little depressed!"
"I would if you were more apologetic about it!" She could feel the blood rushing to her face. She hated fighting with James. Always had; it's one of the many reasons she had never wanted to go out with him in the first place.
"Yeah, because maybe that would annoy you less!" he said sarcastically.
"Well look around, James, you're not the only one depressed and terrified! But unlike you, I'm still trying to take care of us! I can't do that by myself!" she turned and stormed into the kitchen, loudly clearing the table and slamming pots and pans around. She filled the sink with scalding water and fairy soap. Muttering darkly, she began to wash the dishes.
She didn't hear James shuffle into the kitchen, but she felt his arms wrap around her waist. He was hugging her and burying his nose in her hair.
"I'm sorry."
She leaned her head back. He rested his head on her shoulder, and moved his hands down her arms into the hot water and drew them out. He gazed at her red hands; they looked like they had been burned by that awful curse again. Spinning her around, he kissed her palms and pulled her into a proper embrace. She was trembling now, and so was he.
"I'm so scared," she whispered, hesitantly.
"Me too," he admitted.
"I hate this; I hate everything about this. I feel like I'm a pawn, disposable."
He held her tighter. "I know."
"I'm sorry too, James. I'm sorry I snapped."
He drew back to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry I've been so bloody useless. Go get Harry, relax, and I'll do the washing up."
She sighed, kissed him, and went upstairs.
James finished the washing up, poured him and Lily a glass of wine each and brought them in to where she was playing with Harry. James joined them in their lighthearted fun, and then said, "You know, it's getting very close to our Anniversary."
"No it's not, that's in May."
"No, I meant the anniversary of our first date. Halloween?"
She smiled as Harry tumbled around the room on unsteady feet. His dark hair threw his green eyes into sharp relief. It was a contrast she'd never grow tired of.
"How do you think we should celebrate?" she asked in her sexy, bedroom voice that she knew drove James crazy.
"Does it matter?"
"Nope," she smiled at him, and took another sip of her wine.
James smiled back, and took her hand. Harry brought them one of his toys and garbled a few nonsense words at them. As long as they were together, they were fine. They kept each other fighting. He loved his family, and Lily would do anything for them. Here they were, sitting in their living room, safe, loved, and defiant.
