A/N: Still exhausted, but dinner and a swim have done wonders, so at least it's now out of sleepiness rather than pain.

He potters around the kitchen, humming under his breath as he cooks dinner, while she knits another blanket for Harry's cot. Knitting can feel menial at times, but she enjoys losing herself in the monotony of the task. The constant repetition gives her the space to think while also giving her an excuse not to think. And, at a time like this, any hobby that allows you to ignore the horrors of the world around you is one worth maintaining.

Today, however, seems to be one of those times when thoughts refuse to go away, for she is just starting to immerse herself in the process when her husband tells her, "Lily, we need to talk about this."

She sighs. While she has managed to avoid the topic over the last couple of days, there's no way she can do so forever. "I know," she admits. "I just don't like talking about what will happen if we die."

"Do you think I do? I hate the thought of us not being around for him. But you and I both know that we need to be prepared."

"Yeah. I know." Unable to concentrate on getting the lines straight, she sets the partially knitted blanket aside and leans forward, propping her elbows up on her knees as she cradles her chin in her palms. "Let's do it, then. What are you thinking?"

"Padfoot," he replies instantly. "Harry already adores him, and he loves Harry like a son. It'd be the easiest transition for Harry, and it would be good for Sirius. If we..."

He falters, so she continues, "If we're not here, he's going to need something to keep him from hurling himself straight into the enemy lines in a misguided quest for vengeance. Taking Harry somewhere safe would do that."

"Yeah."

"I think we should ask Alice and Frank to do it if he can't. They already have Neville, and we know they'd raise Harry similarly to how we would."

"But Remus - "

"I would be happy for him to raise Harry, but I don't think he'd want to. You know how he gets about his lycanthropy, James. He'd be in a constant state of terror that someone would find out and that that would then disadvantage Harry, and that wouldn't be healthy for either of them. We could tell the goblins that he's an option, but I think we should try to avoid it if possible. For his sake."

"Who else, then? Peter likes Harry, but he isn't cut out for fatherhood. And my parents can't," he adds, his jaw tightening at the thought of how steadily their health has been declining over the past few months.

Neither of them point out that hers can't either anymore.

"Petunia could."

"No. She and that husband of hers are never going anywhere near my son."

"I hate him even more than you do, James, but there aren't many other people we can trust. Literally anyone else could be a spy for Voldemort. It's not ideal, but they're safe and they're removed from the war. I know I could talk Petunia into letting Dumbledore send them all overseas somewhere if she knew it was for her own safety as well."

"Only as a last resort," he compromises. "Sirius, Alice and Frank, Remus, my parents, Peter, Petunia."

"Agreed. I'll owl Gringotts to ask a delegate to meet us at Hogwarts. Petunia and Vernon have taken Dudley to Wales for the rest of the month, but I'll catch up with her after that to make sure she would be alright with it."

"Speaking of Dumbledore, he suggested that we put in a clause that allows him to supersede the letter of the will should he deem it necessary." His expression turns disgusted as he quotes, "'Just in case the spy turns out to be someone you trust.'" Shaking his head, he continues, "No one on that list would betray us. But it might be a good idea to give him that power anyway, just in case circumstances change with the war and we can't risk meeting up with another goblin."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with that." She frowns. "But I suppose it is Dumbledore, so..."

17 October 1981