11th October 1981
"Do you know what today is?" Mason said, wrapping his arms around her from behind as she surveyed the now nearly empty spare room.
"A Monday?"
"Well yes, Miss Practical," he grinned, kissing her quickly and running his hand over her belly. "But today, do you know what today is?"
"Not a clue," she snorted, "Have you left my tea in the kitchen?"
Mason vanished quickly to get it and once she was drinking it happily he continued.
"A year ago today was the storm!"
She raised an eyebrow. "The storm? Oh! Where you should've kissed me and didn't?" she teased.
Rolling his eyes, he smiled, "Yeah, that one."
"That was really only a year ago?" she said gently, watching him. "It feels like a lifetime ago. A lot has happened since."
Mason laughed and poked her side carefully, "You don't say. What would one year ago Lyra have thought if she'd seen this?"
"That Dorcas had finally succeeded in her meddling," she laughed, pointing to the last box that needed removing from what would be the baby's rooms.
They'd decided that seeing as they were working on a tight schedule with the baby – who, after Lyra finally went to St Mungos for a check-up, was doing okay and was due at the end of January – they wouldn't try and move now. His family home was still off limits both because they weren't sure if it was structurally safe and because he wasn't ready for that, and while the flat wasn't ideal, the spare room, previously just filled with crap, would work fine and they both felt a move would be too much.
"You wouldn't be happy? You wouldn't have been overjoyed knowing you ended up with me?" Mason teased.
"I'd think how on earth did I get myself knocked up, even if it was with the hot instructor," she said dryly, smiling despite herself, "Get lifting!"
"Yes boss."
When they'd told Moody and the others about the baby, there had been mixed reactions: Remus was just pleased Lyra had told Mason and he could now get excited too, Peter had seemed absolutely terrified so they hadn't bothered telling him anything else and Sirius had been stunned into silence for a long time before managing to congratulate them. Lyra had suspected there was still some resentment there, some unshakeable knowledge that with Marlene's death all of this had been stolen from him, but she knew he was trying, and that meant a lot.
Moody however, had been protectively furious – he'd worked backwards from her due date and worked out that it meant she'd been fighting whilst pregnant and had gently but forcefully barred her from any missions, which she wasn't even mad about as she was increasingly uncomfortable and would much rather be sitting down than duelling. Mason was back at 'work' but only with the Order. Moody, bypassing Crouch's orders that all Aurors be available at all times, had told him he didn't need to come in until he was ready. Mason had accepted gratefully but had decided he could still help the Order; it was helping him get back on his feet, having more routine and something to focus on, and so Lyra didn't begrudge him it when she knew he was being careful for her sake now.
The pair were now focussing on getting the flat and themselves ready – three months didn't seem like a long time and while she didn't regret their decision, she did wish it wasn't so frantic.
"Room clear," Mason said triumphantly, brushing his hands together. "Time to paint?"
"You want to paint today?" Lyra checked, leaning against him as she surveyed the room again.
"If you're up for it? Gives it time to dry while I'm out tomorrow," Mason added, "And I've got an errand to run later, bits to pick up."
"Sure, then let's paint," she smiled. He'd wanted to do it the Muggle way as much as possible: the whole room could've been done in a day if they'd just used magic, the paint dried, the furniture put up, the frames hung perfectly level but that was boring, and he knew if they did that, they'd be back to having nothing to do and Lyra would go mad with boredom. He did, however, crack open the paint tin using magic – he wasn't stupid.
Lyra grabbed the paintbrushes and handed him one with a grim. "I really hope you know what you're doing, because I don't at all."
"Yeah, we've got this," he smiled, his expression softening, "My dad used to make us do DIY all the time, he liked doing it the Muggle way too. Is that an old jumper? It'll probably get trashed."
She nodded and checked the colour of the paint again before straightening up. "Let's do this!"
Mason laughed, set the needle on the record player in the corner and waggled his eyebrows. "Let's."
Needless to say, Lyra was awful, if it was possible to be bad painting when you weren't even doing the edges. Mason ended up doing most of it because she conceded defeat and spent most of the time sat on the chair they'd brought in, trying to wipe paint off herself. But it had been fun even if she'd never thought she'd enjoy doing menial muggle tasks, and the room looked better already with the soft grey on the walls covering the weird cream paint of before.
"We did it!" Mason grinned, stepping back, dropping the brush and wiping paint onto her nose with a smirk.
She whined. "You did it! I was… emotional support."
"A very vital part of the process," he sniggered.
She wiped the paint off, wrinkling her nose up. "I hope so."
"It was!" he promised, using his sleeve to clean her face with a snigger before kissing her. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," she admitted, "But I'm okay, it's just because I've been on my feet."
"I'll make dinner," Mason promised, "Unless you want a takeaway? I'm going to swing round to Sirius' place while he's away to check on things anyway so I can get something."
She considered that as she settled back onto the chair. "Maybe? That Chinese is good, the one on the corner."
Mason grinned. "Predictable."
"I have about nineteen years of takeaways to catch up on," she scoffed, "Don't judge me."
"I'd never judge you, my love," he teased, waving his wand to clean up after them.
"While you're doing that I might try and sort through some of the boxes, what's even in them?!"
"Merlin knows," Mason admitted, helping her through to the living room and settling her on the sofa. "Throw away what you want, I can guarantee it'll all be rubbish."
"And you say you're not a hoarder," she grinned, watching him search for his jacket.
Mason gave her a look but his eyes were sparkling. "I won't be long, send a Patronus if you need me."
"You too, stay safe," she smiled, rolling her eyes at his cheesiness but 'catching' the kiss he blew her as he left.
Mason did have to check in on Sirius' flat, and he did have some errands to run, but he also had another item on his to do list. Once he'd established that Sirius' flat was secure and he'd picked up more milk, he apparated once more, appearing on the gravel driveway of his family home.
Taking a deep breath, he tucked the milk into his bag and looked around him. After the attack, in the hazy days following his time in hospital, he'd managed somehow (he suspected Lyra had guided him through it) to set up some basic wards around the property to keep Muggles and trespassers away so from the outside there was no evidence that anyone had been here. The weeds were starting to push their way up through the gravel, the only evidence of time passing with no one to look after the place and so Mason quickly cast a spell to unroot them all, not wanting all his mum's hard work to go to waste.
He wiped his already wet eyes, and moved forwards purposefully, letting himself into the house that seemed to recognise him, the door swinging open smoothly.
The house was dark and quiet, so Mason turned the lights on and cast a warming spell to make it feel less foreign to him and then made his way upstairs, carefully controlling his breathing. He half suspected that avoiding coming home was only making it harder now he was back, but he still wasn't ready to be here without his family. Making his way into his parents' old bedroom, he paused to look around and then crouched in front of the large chest at the end of their bed. Inside, there were the baby clothes, photos, toys that Marie had carefully packed away from each child. Mason, Marlene and Mark's first baby grows were all in here, as well as quilts she'd made, photos of her and Marcus in various states of exhaustion, the children's St Mungo's wristbands and their favourite toys, all lovingly kept and organised.
It took Mason a long time before he could begin to look through what was there, but eventually he started, knowing exactly what he was looking for and it didn't take long to find it. It'd been carefully folded and wrapped up with his other baby clothes, but it was still as good as new – his first baby grow. He laughed wetly and laid it on the side, grabbing the rest of what he wanted and packing it all up carefully. In an ideal world, his mum would currently be making a fourth little outfit, but that wasn't going to happen and the next best thing was his. She'd want that too, he knew.
Carefully closing the trunk, he stood up and smiled, wiping the dust off the top of it tenderly and stepping back.
"Thanks, Mum."
"Honey, I'm home," he called as he shut the door behind him, locking it quickly and dumping the takeaway on the table.
Lyra looked up from her sorting and grinned. "Hi! You okay? You were gone a while."
"Always," he promised, kissing her forehead and bringing over the other bag. "I made a detour, that's all."
"To do what?"
"Have a look," he smiled, sitting next to her and opening the bag.
Lyra gave him a funny look but peered into the bag, pulling out the little outfit and gasping. "This is adorable!"
"Guess who wore it first, too," he said softly, leaning his forehead against hers.
Lyra blinked at him. "No way were you ever this tiny."
"I was," he chuckled "This was mine. I went by the house, I knew Mum kept it all and it felt right somehow. I've got some other things too, but I wanted this one in particular."
"It's gorgeous," Lyra smiled, "Did she make it?"
"She did," Mason said, brushing his finger over the design gently. "And if you don't want to use it, I-"
"I do want to," she promised, shifting to lean her head on his shoulder. "Absolutely. Baby will love it. Thank you, Mason."
He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair down with a fierce tenderness, unable to speak through the lump in his throat.
"I know, sweetheart," she whispered, "I know."
"I think Sirius has been in the house."
"This house or your house?" she frowned, slowly setting her plate down on top of his already empty one.
"Mine. I went just to check on everything but Marlene's room was way cleaner than the rest of the place and I think the bedding is different. I don't know if he's just been cleaning it, or if he's been staying there, but it would explain why he's not been in when we've called at his place."
Lyra' forehead burrowed in confusion. "Last I spoke to him he didn't want to go back, why lie?"
"He might not be staying there, Ly, don't get ahead of yourself and stress yourself out," he said hastily, "It could just be he doesn't want it to get dusty, I can't say I blame him, I understand the feeling."
She chewed her lip and put her knife and fork down. "I don't know, Mase, he's… not been himself since. Not that that's surprising, I completely get that, I just… I don't know how to talk to him anymore. He's grieving, sure, but something has changed too."
"Something has in all of us," Mason pointed out.
"Not like that," she whispered, "Please tell me you see it too. He's angry, and while I know he defaults to anger for most big things, this feels… bitter, I don't know."
Mason sighed because he did see it and he agreed with her. Now they knew for sure someone was leaking information to Voldemort, it made the change in Sirius seem more and more suspicious. But then again, he reflected, everyone behaved suspiciously now. Remus would vanish every month with no explanation for where he was except for being 'ill', Peter jumped every time you walked into a room he was in, Sirius snapped if you so much as mentioned the mole, and the rest of the Order were shifty and on edge too – the bond that had held them all together was fraying.
"Maybe… maybe we should change the wards," Lyra admitted quietly. She felt awful for suggesting it, she felt cowardly, but if there was someone betraying them – she knew it couldn't be Mason, she just knew – then they needed more security, especially with her effectively out of action.
Currently, apart from themselves, the only four people who could get through the door were Sirius, Remus, Peter and Moody. She was starting to think that was four people too many.
"Sirius won't like it, and I doubt Remus will either," Mason warned, knowing that their feud was only growing, and both of them took any suspicion against them to heart.
"I know," Lyra groaned, rubbing her temples, "But maybe we have to do it? It's not like we can do a James and Lily and just vanish, we're still needed and we're not being targeted like that, but I also don't like the idea of someone just being able to get in. Even if it's not them, what if they were taken? Side-long apparation is possible."
Mason hated that she was right. "I know," he mumbled, "And we can always use the baby card to try and smooth things over, but I'm sure they still won't like it."
"I don't like it either," she sighed, "But I think it'd be for the best."
Mason nodded his agreement. "We can do it tonight, if you want. My half of the wards won't take long to change."
"Nor will mine, and we can write and let them know," Lyra whispered. "Just us in the house."
"Just us," he promised, sending the plates through to the sink and leaning over to take her hand.
She'd actually beaten him to the suggestion: now the news about the pregnancy was out and she was visibly showing, he felt far more exposed. It might be paranoid, but Mason wouldn't take any chances – not when they didn't know for sure why the Potters specifically had been targeted and especially not with Avery still out there too. He'd never tell Lyra, but when he'd gone back to sweep her flat for the last time before it was sold, there had been two more notes from the Death Eater waiting on the table. He'd burned them immediately and never mentioned them, but the thought of him finding out that Lyra was pregnant filled him with a kind of fear that woke him up at night with a scream stuck in his throat. He was all for tightening the wards and laying low – all thoughts of heroism were secondary now.
13th October 1981
A pounding on the door made Mason jump and he grabbed his wand from the coffee table before approaching, knowing full well that Lyra's wand was also trained on their front door from her spot on the sofa, one hand on her belly.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Remus!" Remus snapped from outside. "Why did your wards just spit me out in the middle of the park rather than on your doorstep? It's tipping it down, I'm soaked!"
Mason looked back at Lyra and frowned: they'd sent an owl to Remus' flat explaining the situation but he evidently hadn't received it.
"Extra security, mate, we wanted it all in place before the baby came," Mason called back.
"Can Sirius get in?" Remus accused, predictably.
"No," Lyra said firmly, getting up and joining Mason at the door, "No one can, don't be an arsehole, this isn't a favouritism thing."
Silence from the other side, before she heard Remus' head whacking against the door softly.
"Sorry," he muttered. "That was a dick move. Can… Can I at least come in?"
"When did you first find out about the baby?" Lyra asked.
"We were at my flat and you spilled tea on yourself," Remus answered and Lyra nodded at Mason to open the door. She stepped back to let Remus in, her wand still raised just in case, tucking behind Mason.
Remus held his hands up as he slipped in, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He looked older than the last time she'd seen him, and she couldn't help but notice the thin scar running across his cheek that hadn't been there before.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. It's just been… a long week."
"Where have you been?" Mason asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing an arm.
"I can't say, Order stuff," Remus said apologetically. "I wish I could explain, but I can't."
Lyra sighed and turned away to find him a towel but Mason beat her to it and spelled Remus dry before he dripped all over the carpet.
"I get it, before you hate me," Remus added, "The security. I do get it." He glanced over at Lyra and her growing belly and smiled. "How are you doing?"
"My feet hurt constantly, but we're doing good," she said with a little smile. "Lily's giving me tips."
Remus ran a hand through his now dry hair. "Good. I… I just wanted to pop in, now I'm back from the mission, just to see how you were getting on."
"Have you heard from Sirius?" Lyra asked, biting her lip.
"You think Sirius talks to me these days?" Remus said dryly, shaking his head. "I've not, I'm sorry."
She sighed and nodded. "I'll write to him again."
Mason kissed the top of her head as he went past. "Remus, are you staying for a drink?"
"No, no, sorry, I ought to get back and speak to Dumbledore and get this info to him. I'm sorry I burst in like that," he smiled tightly, "And I hope your new wards hold up."
"I do too," Mason said, his mouth a thin line as he turned to Lyra, who had lowered her wand but still gripped it tightly. He didn't blame her.
Remus nodded firmly, seemingly turning something over in his head. He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but nothing came out.
Mason and Lyra stayed very still.
"I ought to get back," Remus repeated, his expression softening slightly as he glanced at Lyra's hand resting lightly on her stomach. "I'll see you soon."
"Take care, Remus," Lyra whispered, and it sounded far more like a plea than she'd intended.
"You too," he muttered, before he turned and left, cutting off Mason's attempt to decipher the unreadable expression on the man's face.