The Houses Competition (or THC) Round 2

Story Type: Standard

House: Hufflepuff

Class: Muggle Studies

Prompt: [Time] 8:14/20:14 and Trying (or succeeding) to understand what somebody is going through.

Word Count: 1659 words

Beta Love: Thanks to my team for beta-ing

Content Info: Story depicts the immediate prelude to canonically character death (but no fighting, injury, or in-story death)

8:11 pm

It was Harry's second Halloween. Although, James reflected, at 15 months old, he was much more able to enjoy it then he had been at 3 months old. Lily and James had agreed to let the toddler stay up late to search for candy around the house. Lily had transfigured some of his outgrown clothing into a miniature quidditch uniform complete with gloves and goggles and Harry had gleefully spent the evening racing about the house on his toy broomstick with a lollipop in his mouth.

By now, it was several hours after sunset, and Harry had started to fuss after the day's excitement. James had just finished bathing him, an exercise that resulted in as much water on the floor of the bathroom as was in the tub. Newly nestled in clean pajamas, Harry was now curled up with Lily enjoying some bedtime stories before both parents carried him up to his bed to sing him to sleep.

James took advantage of the quiet moment to relax. He poured himself a butterbeer from a bottle that Bathilda had gifted them and walked up to an enchanted mirror they kept in the living room.

"Sirius Black," he requested. His own reflection in the mirror distorted and shifted until it was no longer his at all, but that of his best friend. Sirius was also in hiding, although Dumbledore's intelligence suggested Voldemort was less interested in him than in the Potters. If Sirius felt the weight of the war, it didn't show in his appearance. His hair still fell in long strands down his face and he offered a regular easy laugh.

"James!" Sirius said through the mirror, "How are you? How's my godson?"

"I don't think I'll ever forgive you for sending him those flying sugar whizzbangs," James replied, "We were cleaning sugar from the house for weeks. He kept trying to lick it off the floor."

Sirius shrugged, unrepentant. "How's his Halloween costume? I thought mine was great this year; check it out!" Sirius transformed into a dog and wagged his tail in a self-satisfied manner. James gave a half-hearted chuckle; it wasn't the first year Sirius had used that joke.

"His costume was good; he looked like he was ready to try out for the team tomorrow," James responded, but there was a note of heaviness in his voice.

Sirius, now back in human form, sat down on the floor. Emotions were not his strong suit, but he knew James well enough to know when he was upset.

"Hey, James, what's going on?" he asked.

8:12 pm

James felt his throat close. This was ridiculous. Harry was fine, he was happy. James's involvement in this war was necessary to ensure a safe future for his son. He had no reason to be upset about the small sacrifices involved in doing that.

Slowly, James gathered himself and forced a deep breath into his lungs. He noticed the clock had moved forward to a new minute while he had been indulging in his little breakdown. He still had time; Lily would finish reading to Harry at 8:15.

"It's just—" He searched for the right words. "Harry's getting bigger, and he's starting to notice things." Sirius nodded sympathetically but had a confused look on his face. Sirius had always been content to be the fun godfather – he didn't know much about child development and didn't care to learn.

"We listened to the Quidditch game on Wizarding Wirless last week," James tried, "and he got really into it. I'd love to actually take him to a real game. I'd love to take him anywhere. And, just knowing he's stuck here is killing me."

"It's not forever," Sirius pushed back gently, "He's not even old enough to remember going to a Quidditch game yet. By the time he is, maybe this will be over."

"Yea, maybe." James looked unconvinced.

"Hey, now. Have we ever really lost when we put our minds to it?" Sirius tried to lighten the mood, "What's Voldemort compared to some Slytherin prefects, eh?"

Sirius didn't know the details of the prophecy. James and Lily had agreed they wanted as few people to know as possible for the time being, so Harry could grow up without the weight of those expectations on his head. He knew Voldemort was after the Potters and that they were very concerned for Harry's wellbeing if things should go badly for them, but James hadn't told him why Voldemort wanted him, Lily, and Harry in particular.

'Born to parents who have thrice defied him.' He remembered Dumbledore reciting. It could apply to either his child or the child of the Longbottoms. The prophecy said that Voldemort would mark one of the children his equal, but James couldn't shake the feeling that he had forced his happy baby son into the prophecy. He hadn't been forced to fight Voldemort. Nobody had made him defy the dark wizard three times. It was his fault his son had to grow up in hiding, kept away from other children and the excitement of the outside world.

"Sirius," he said, returning his attention to the mirror, "I want to tell you something."

8:13

Sirius sat uncharacteristically silent for a moment. This was not the time to say the wrong thing. Normally, he was flippant and unconcerned with both the trials of parenting a toddler and the risks of war, but he could see this was different. Even if he couldn't really understand what James was going through, he needed to at least try.

"So, it's definitely Harry?" he asked.

"Not necessarily. The Longbottoms' boy, Neville, also meets the criteria," James said heavily. "Voldemort will choose one, somehow, I guess?"

Secretly, Sirius hoped he chose Neville. The Longbottoms were skilled and wonderful people and Sirius would never wish suffering on them, but James was his best friend and Harry his godson. He sensed that wouldn't be helpful to say, though.

"Even if it is Harry, he'll be ok," Sirius said, not having to fake the confidence in his voice. "He has you and Lily and he's already showing some magical aptitude himself. And–" Sirius kept himself talking so that he didn't think of the impossible reality of losing James and Lily, "And – we've got Dumbledore on our side. Voldemort doesn't stand a chance."

"Maybe." James didn't seem convinced, "But until then? I've created a world in which my son can either hide in his home or be hunted by the most powerful dark wizard of our time. What kind of choice is that? And what if we screw this up and he has to face that without me and Lily? He's just a little boy."

Sirius reached out a hand and pressed it against the mirror. James did the same from the other side so their reflections touched. It brought both a measure of comfort, and they sat silently for a moment.

Sirius cautiously broke the silence. "James, I won't tell you I understand everything you're going through, because I don't. But if you ever need anything or if Harry or Lily ever need anything, just let me know and I'll be there."

"Thanks, Sirius." James sounded tired, but the notes of panic and despair seemed to have lifted from him. "I've got to go help put Harry to bed. Stay out of trouble, will you?"

"Would I ever get in trouble?" Sirius asked with a grin. James rewarded him with a small smile and allowed the connection between the mirrors to close.

8:14

James found Lily and Harry curled up on the living room loveseat. Harry was attempting to eat a board book titled "Baby's First Magical Spells" that listed spells for each letter of the alphabet. Lily gave him an affectionate kiss on top of his head.

"How's he been?" asked James.

"More interested in eating the book than reading it," Lily responded, "I think he's getting drowsy. Do you want to start getting him ready for bed?"

James nodded and lifted Harry into his arms. Harry let his head fall onto his father's shoulder and closed his eyes, trusting and safe.

"What should we sing?"

"What about a muggle song?" Lily asked. The wizarding world had a whole collection of bedtime stories and lullabies of its own, but Lily sometimes missed the simple songs from her own childhood.

James nodded and walked to look out the window, Harry a comforting weight in his arms.

Lily started to sing, "Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high–" she began

"There's a dream that I dare to dream. Why, oh why can't I?" James added his voice to the tune Lily had taught him.

Then he stopped abruptly. He thought he had heard something. Perhaps it was just the rustle of the wind through the fallen leaves. No, it sounded like footsteps. He shifted Harry into one arm and the boy started to wake up in response to the sudden change of energy in the room. James grabbed at his wand as a tall robed figure with a pale face appeared at the edge of the garden, but realized he had left it on the couch when he had grabbed Harry.

"He doesn't know we're here. The Fidelius charm–" Lily whispered.

"Why else would he be hanging out in our garden?" James whispered back. "Peter must have flipped."

A loud bang startled them both. Lily and James saw a flash of orange light out of their peripheral vision. There was no question now; Voldemort had knocked down the front door.

James shoved Harry into Lily's arms. They could still get out safely if James could only delay Voldemort. The others would take care of them. Sirius had promised.

"Lily, take Harry and run!"

Lily ran upstairs with Harry and James turned to face the entrance. They may have defied Voldemort three times, but he would do it once more to keep his family safe.