31 July 1980

Remus glanced over his shoulder—an unshakable reflex that he had picked up over the last few weeks—as he reached the tall, dark hedge that marked the front garden of James and Lily's Godric's Hollow cottage. Once he had ensured that he wasn't being followed, Remus reached out and pushed open the little white garden gate, heading up the brick path to the front porch.

He felt the hum of protective enchantments in the air as he made his way up the path—anti-apparition wards, hex-deflection shields, repelling charms, all of which had been placed over the cottage in the four months that had passed since James and Lily had been urged to go into hiding by Dumbledore. As Remus walked up the steps to the front porch, he glanced through the sitting room window. James had forgotten to draw the curtains, as usual, and Remus could see Sirius—clad in flannel pajama trousers and a black T-shirt—seated in the armchair by the fireplace, shaking his leg. His shaggy black hair was ruffled in a way that made Remus certain that he'd been roused from bed by James.

Raising his hand, Remus knocked twice on the Potters' front door. Through the sitting room window, Remus saw Sirius jump up from the armchair, suddenly tense and alert. A second later, Remus heard footsteps in the foyer beyond the front door.

"Who is it?" Sirius demanded, his voice sharp. "Declare yourself."

"It's Remus John Lupin," Remus responded. "Also known as Moony, I'm one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, which is currently locked away in Filch's office because James left it in the Astronomy Tower during Head Boy patrols in the last week of our seventh year."

There was a series of clicks, then the door swung open and Sirius appeared in the frame, grinning.

"Nice of you to bring that up, tonight of all nights," Sirius said, ushering Remus into the foyer and shutting the front door behind him. "I swear, if James's kid doesn't find a way to get that map back one day, I'll surrender my own Marauder title for failure as a godfather."

Remus snorted with laughter. Just then, there was a clatter of footsteps from the nearby stairwell, as James—who, like Sirius, was wearing pajamas—appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his glasses lopsided and his notably wand-less arm raised threateningly at Remus.

"It's him. I've already checked," Sirius assured James, who nodded. "Not that you could do anything about it either way, without a bloody wand in your hand, you idiot. How are you twenty years old and still leaving it lying about?"

James shot Sirius an annoyed look, then turned to beam at Remus. "You made it."

"Trust your baby to pick the middle of the bloody night to make an appearance," Remus told James, smiling as he stepped forward and embraced his friend. "How's Lily doing?"

"All right, so far. Cried a bit about our parents not being here, but now she's mostly just swearing and threatening to curse me if I ever get her pregnant again," James said somewhat sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "The contractions are still pretty far apart—Elinor says she's got some ways to go."

"Elinor Bones is here?" Remus asked, surprised.

"Yeah…with everything, we thought it would be safer for her to be the one to deliver the baby than a random midwitch," James said, shrugging. "The fewer people outside the Order who know our address, the better."

Remus nodded, grimacing. Sirius shoved his hands in the pockets of his pajama bottoms, staring at the floor. For a moment, none of them spoke.

Then, Remus cleared his throat pointedly. "Er—shouldn't you get back upstairs and be with your wife?" he asked James, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh," James gave a little start, as though only just remembering that his wife was, in fact, in labor a floor above them. "Right—yeah—I should go." But he stood there another moment, his expression strained and set. Then, he lowered his voice. "Can a baby be born with glasses?" he asked in a hushed, tense voice. "Or—oh, Merlin—what if it has antlers or something—?"

"James," Remus rolled his eyes, as Sirius guffawed. "If you don't get upstairs right now, Lily will hex you so hard, you won't be around to find out."

James's jaw dropped, his hazel eyes growing very wide. Then, with a strangled noise in the back of his throat, he swiveled around and sprinted back up the staircase. Remus and Sirius exchanged a smirk, shaking their heads, before they simultaneously turned and made their way into the sitting room.

"So," Sirius said, settling back into the armchair by the fireplace. Remus, meanwhile, took a seat on the sofa. "What have you been up to tonight?"

Remus frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"It's nearly one in the morning, and you're not in your nightclothes," Sirius said, raising his eyebrows significantly at Remus's attire—a slightly shabby traveling cloak over a pair of thick gray robes. "You clearly weren't asleep when you got James's patronus."

"Oh, I—er—" Remus hesitated, swallowing as he looked down at his robes. Sirius was right; Remus hadn't been at home when James's frantic patronus had arrived—he'd been in Yorkshire, on Dumbledore's orders. But Dumbledore had specifically warned Remus against telling his friends about this particular Order assignment, which was a sensitive and risky one—it involved scouting a possible rogue werewolf that was wreaking havoc on Muggle villages in the North Country. Dumbledore was keen on learning the werewolf's identity and whether or not it was acting on Voldemort's orders, but he was also insistent that Remus be discreet about his sleuthing, in case the werewolf was dangerous—or worse, in league with Fenrir Greyback. In fact, Dumbledore hadn't even confided in the other leaders of the Order—Moody, Mr. Dearborn, and Elphinstone Urquart—about the mission.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, frowning warily at him. "Are you all right?"

Remus jumped, looking up at Sirius. "Oh—yes, of course—I-I just—"

But Remus was saved the trouble of explaining himself—and his whereabouts that night—by a sudden knock at the front door. In a flash, he and Sirius had both drawn their wands.

"Peter, probably," Sirius muttered, leading the way back into the foyer. Remus glanced in the direction of the stairs as they walked to the front door—but James had not come downstairs to investigate the knock this time. Remus strongly suspected that Lily had threatened to curse his existence into oblivion if he left the room again.

"Who's there?" Sirius asked for the second time that night, his ear pressed against the door. "Declare yourself."

"It's W-Wormtail," came the muffled response. Remus shared a bewildered look with Sirius—it sounded as though Peter was shivering. "P-please—let m-me in."

Sirius frowned. "Peter, you know the drill—you've got to tell me something only you and I would know."

"Oh—r-r-right—erm—well, I-I—I g-got f-five O.W.L.s—"

"Wormtail, how am I supposed to remember how many O.W.L.s you got?" Sirius demanded. "I don't even remember how many O.W.L.s I got—"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Remus muttered impatiently, reaching out and pulling open the front door to reveal the short, shuddering form of Peter on the front porch. His robes were practically soaked through with water. "What on Earth—?" Remus broke off in alarm, hurriedly chivvying Peter into the house and latching the door behind him. "What happened to you? Why are you sopping wet?"

"I-I w-w-was in Scotland," Peter explained, teeth chattering. "It w-was r-r-raining."

Remus used his wand to cast a Warming Charm over Peter as the three of them walked into the sitting room. As his robes grew drier, Peter's breathing began to quieten and his shoulders stopped shaking.

"Why were you in Scotland?" Sirius asked, as he, Remus, and Peter settled themselves around the coffee table—Sirius on the armchair and Remus and Peter on the sofa.

"I was with Sturgis Podmore on the Isle of Skye," Peter explained, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he slumped back against the sofa cushions. "We were helping the McKinnons go into hiding."

"What?" Remus looked around at Peter, startled. "Why are they going into hiding?"

Peter shrugged dismally. "Same reason as the Longbottoms—and Lily and James," he said. "Marlene's name came up in a list of targets being tracked by Death Eaters. The whole family's gone into hiding together—Marlene, Bryce, Bryce's parents, and Bryce's younger brother, William, and his wife."

Remus blinked, leaning back in his seat and thinking of Marlene—of her strong, sharp, ever-stoic presence in Order meetings. Only a real threat to her family's safety could have forced Marlene off the battlefield and underground.

Swallowing heavily, Remus looked at Sirius. Sirius met his eyes only briefly before he looked away.

"Well," Sirius cleared his throat, reaching into the pocket of his pajama bottoms and producing a deck of Exploding Snap cards. "Now that the mood is sufficiently grim, who fancies a few rounds of Snap as we wait on Elvendork's arrival?"

Peter laughed, and Remus gazed at the deck of cards in amazement. The idea that something as normal as Exploding Snap could still exist in their world was absurd, yet glorious.

So, they played into the wee hours of the morning, talking and laughing together for what felt like the first time in years. They discussed Sirius's latest fling, a barmaid at the Leaky Cauldron who had very nearly fainted at the sight of his motorcycle. They talked of their families—of Peter's mother, Remus's father, and Sirius's cousin Andromeda, with whom Sirius maintained fairly regular contact. Apparently, seven-year-old Nymphadora hated her name. Sirius was still lording this fact over Andromeda.

It was almost like being back at Hogwarts—like being back in their old dormitory, where they had shared countless games of Exploding Snap and hours of lighthearted conversation on the rug in the middle of the room. But they weren't at Hogwarts. They were sitting in a house that had been given nearly every protection the Order could provide, and just a floor above them, two of their best friends were having a baby. And so, they talked about James, and Lily, and the soon-to-be new addition to the Potter family—for it went without saying that this baby would belong to each of them, as well. To Remus, who had long-accepted that he would never father a child of his own and risk ruining an innocent life. To Sirius, who would die before he despoiled a child with his unfortunate surname. And to Peter, whose faith in fatherhood had been dashed early on, when his own father had left his wife and son without a backward glance.

It was just past six-thirty when a tired but smiling Elinor Bones appeared in the doorway of the sitting room to tell them that the baby—a boy—had been born at five forty-six in the morning. He was six pounds, eight ounces, and perfectly healthy, Elinor said, as she swung her traveling cloak over her shoulders, preparing to head home. And he was ready for visitors, she added.

Remus followed Sirius and Peter up the stairs in a daze. The faintest rays of sunlight were beginning to filter through the cottage windows from the pinkish-red sky outside, bathing the entire house in a soft, golden glow. But the glow from the sun was nothing compared to the glow that seemed to emanate from Lily's face, where she sat in hers and James's bed, cradling a squirmy bundle of blue blankets in her arms. She looked exhausted, and there were tears in her eyes, but her happiness was intoxicating. Remus found himself drawn towards the bed, as though his legs were moving of their own accord.

Lily looked up and beamed when she saw the three new arrivals to the room. Glancing up at James, who was sitting next to her on the bed—looking half-mad with relief and delight—she nodded. James grinned back at her, standing up and clearing his throat.

"Everyone," he said softly, gazing down at the baby in Lily's arms, "meet Harry James Potter."

Peter let out a little sob, clapping a hand over his mouth, but neither James nor Sirius laughed at him. Sirius was utterly transfixed by the baby, whose enormous, brilliant eyes were blinking curiously up at him from under dark lashes—as though they couldn't get enough of the world around them. Stepping closer to the bed, Sirius held out his arms.

"Er—may I…?" he asked hoarsely.

James looked at Sirius, smiling. Very carefully, he bent down and took the baby from Lily, turning around to gently lay him in Sirius's outstretched arms.

"Mind his head," Remus told Sirius automatically—and both Sirius and James looked at him in surprise.

"How d'you know about babies?" James wanted to know.

Remus's lips twitched. "I practically raised you lot, didn't I?"

With the baby now snug in his arms, Sirius sank down to the edge of James and Lily's bed, looking positively enraptured.

"Hey, there, mate," he said quietly. "I'm your uncle Padfoot—I'm your godfather. And this…" he paused, swallowing. "This is your family."

Both Peter and Lily were crying in earnest, now. James sat back down next to Lily, embracing her. It took Remus every ounce of effort he possessed to contain the enormous lump in his own throat, as he moved towards Sirius and the baby. Very gently, he extended his hand and stroked the baby's fist with one finger. Almost at once, five little fingertips latched on to him, surprisingly strong and warm.

"Harry," Remus whispered.

At that very moment, a red-gold glow burst suddenly across the room, as the outline of the fiery orange rising sun appeared in full over the bedroom window. And Remus found himself beaming, laughing, as sunlight flooded, fierce and bright, into the Potters' home, onto the most beautiful baby any of them had ever seen.


Author's Note:

Small disclaimer: I found James's line about the baby being born with glasses/antlers on Pinterest, and ever since, I haven't been able to imagine James not saying it. XD

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Something a little happier after the last one.

Ari