Saturday, October 31, 1981

James's eyes fluttered open when he heard Lily whimper. He touched her shoulder and she started awake, gulping air.

"You're okay. You're safe." He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back until her pounding heart slowed.

"I had a dream they found Wormy." She pulled away and lay back against the pillow. "A bunch of Death Eaters were torturing him, trying to get to us." A sob rose in her throat as she found his hand and clutched his fingers. "He was so scared."

James rolled onto his side and pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead. "He's okay, Evs. They won't find him. He's safe and well-hidden."

"I know. It just can't shake the bad feeling, you know?" She nestled into his chest and sighed, her hot breath tickling his skin.

"I know. I worry about him too. But worrying won't help keep him safe." He kissed the top of her head. "It just keeps you awake. So try to relax and get some sleep."
"Yeah, alright." The quaver had not left her voice, and James felt hot tears splash onto his bare chest.

"Hey. How about if we ask Padfoot to check on Pete tomorrow? He can stop by after he's off duty and make sure he's okay."

She let out a breath, and some of the tension left her body. "Okay."

James held her close, stroking her arm until her breathing became slow and even. His thoughts drifted to Lily's dream, but he forced himself to put those worries aside. Sirius was going to check on Peter tomorrow, and everything would be fine. Heaving a deep sigh, James shifted closer to Lily and slipped into a doze.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when James stepped outside and began his morning jog around the back garden. The brisk October air raised goosebumps on his bare arms, but he warmed up after the first couple of laps. He had started almost every morning with a run since his second year at Hogwarts. Back then, his aim had been to build stamina for Quidditch, but now he did it mostly to clear his head. It was far too risky to run through the village, so he resorted to circling the perimeter of the garden until he made himself dizzy.

As he passed the oak tree that Sirius had climbed one night after Harry was asleep and the three of them had drank too much firewhisky, he allowed himself to think about something that had been nagging at him all week. Now that they were protected by the Fidelius Charm – a spell that pinned the responsibility for their safety on one person's shoulders – he felt safer. Before they had performed the Fidelius, he had been nervous about leaving Lily and Harry alone in the house, even just to run in the back garden. The thought of something happening when he wasn't there to protect them tormented him, and sometimes his worries persuaded him to cut his run short or forsake it altogether. Now, however, he was sure that his wife and son were safe while he enjoyed a few laps around the garden. This left his mind free to think about the war – which was possibly an even more unpleasant topic, considering how things were going. Things are going to turn around soon, he told himself. They've got to. And at least Voldemort can't get to us now.

A sick wave of guilt washed over James, slowing him down as it weighed on him. He thought of Peter, holed up in his remote hiding place, alone and terrified. Peter is afraid because of us. Peter is in danger because of us. The thought made his stomach clench, and frustration flooded his body when he thought of the rest of the Order, fighting the war while James ran laps around his garden and played chess with Lily and read Harry Tales of Beadle the Bard. The memory of his last battle filled his mind – the prickle of fear, the rush of adrenaline, and the blissful surge of relief afterward.

No. It did him no good to dwell on his frustration, so instead he pushed himself to run faster, until the fence and grass became a blur around him. When he drew to a stop, chest heaving and heart thumping, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. For now, he had forced the frustration to the back of his mind, and he trudged inside to make tea before Harry woke up.

James propped the two-way mirror against his empty glass and spoke Sirius's name. Over by the window, Lily stirred a potion, while Harry played with wooden blocks by James's feet. An announcer's voice issued from the wireless, describing yet another Muggle murder, but James silenced it with a flick of his wand. Lily shot him a reproachful look but didn't comment. James smiled to himself, watching her shoulders relax as she stirred in plimpy eyes a little at a time. If he didn't limit her news consumption, she'd be glued to the wireless and the Prophet all day, a worried little furrow creasing her forehead.

"Hi Prongs." Sirius's face filled the mirror, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he lounged shirtless on his sofa. "Miss me?"

James winked. "I always miss you. But I have a favor to ask."

"God, you're needy." Sirius leaned forward to flick a bit of ash into the ashtray on the coffee table. "What is it?

"Can you go check on Pete later and make sure he's okay?"

Sirius took a drag on his cigarette, then turned his head to exhale. "Yeah, I suppose. I'll be off at nine – I'll go then, and then I'll call you on the mirror to tell you he's just fine, munching on biscuits in his stupid fucking pajamas."

"Padfoot," Lily called. "Watch your language. Harry's right there."

"Well, I can't see him. Put him in front of the mirror."

James lifted Harry and plopped him down on his lap. Sirius's face lit up when he saw Harry; Harry giggled and stuck his finger in his mouth.

"Listen to this, Pads." James looked at Harry, then pointed at the mirror. "Who's that, Harry?"

A smile spread across Harry's face as he pulled his finger from his mouth. "Uncle Pa-foot."

Sirius's eyes widened. "That's right, Harry." His eyes darted back to James. "That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever heard in my entire life."

"Sirius!" There was a note of irritation in Lily's voice. "It's going to be your fault when the next word he learns to say is 'fuck.'"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well, now you've just said it, too, you bloody hypocrite. And at least look at me if you're going to tell me off."

She left her cauldron and knelt down in front of the mirror. "Do you ever wear clothes?"

Sirius glanced down at himself. "What? I'm wearing pants."

"Did you just have to check?" Lily asked, laughing.

"Maybe." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and narrowed his eyes. "You know, I think I'm going to go. I don't appreciate being judged this early in the morning."

"It's not even early!"

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "Do you hear that judgey tone, Prongs?"

Lily grinned. "Love you, Padfoot."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll talk to you tonight after I check on Pete." He waved. "Bye, Harry."

Harry pressed his fingers against the glass and smiled as Sirius disappeared from the mirror. Smiling to himself, James opened a Quidditch magazine while Harry returned to his blocks and Lily attended to her potion.

After lunch, James and Lily brought Harry outside to enjoy the mild fall weather.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions," James said as he handed Harry his toy broomstick

"I wish there was a bit more sun, though." Lily frowned up at the cloudy sky.

"Nah, it's harder to see the balls when the sun is in your eyes." He mounted his broom and circled the garden, staying below the top of the fence so the neighbors wouldn't see. The light breeze ruffled his hair, and he longed to soar and dive high above the house. Instead, he zigzagged and executed a series of tight turns before returning to hover beside Lily and Harry.

"You have a go, Evs." James hopped down and offered her the broom.

Lily climbed onto the broom and took a lap around the garden. James watched her and noted with satisfaction that her form was improving. She was still a bit shaky when she turned, but her grip was much more natural than it had been a few months ago.

"Look at you," he said when she landed next to him. "You're getting better – you really are."

"Yes, I expect I'll be asked to play for England any day now."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. You do look very cute on a broom, though." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, then leaned in to kiss her.

He released the Snitch from his box of Quidditch balls so Harry could chase after it on his little broom. Harry wasn't quick enough to catch it, but he squealed with joy as he zoomed around the yard in pursuit of the tiny golden ball. James flew beside him, pulling him back onto the broom when he leaned over too far.

When the Snitch fluttered above the toy broomstick's maximum height, James and Harry flew back to Lily. She had spread a blanket on the ground to watch them, and James settled beside her while Harry toddled around chasing leaves.

She frowned as the wind picked up and leaves tumbled around the garden. "We should really get rid of all the leaves."

James plucked a leaf from the grass and poked her face with the stem. "Evs, that's no fun. Today is supposed to be a relaxing day."

She batted his hands away. "It's going to kill the grass if we don't."

"Fuck the grass."

She laughed and lay back on the blanket. Her hair spilled over the edge of the faded fabric and mingled with the grass. When she shifted her hand, dried leaves crunched underneath her.

"I'll do it tomorrow," James promised.

He lay down beside her and propped his head on his arm, then resumed tickling her face with the leaf while he watched Harry pull out handfuls of grass and toss them into the air.

Harry went down for a nap after they came in from the back garden. When James returned from the nursery, he plopped down onto the sofa with a groan.

"He's getting heavy." He grimaced and rubbed his bicep. "I think I pulled something. You should probably rub my shoulders."

She rolled her eyes. "Whiner." She watched him for a minute, then began working at the muscles in his shoulders.

"I was only joking. You don't really have to rub my shoulders." He closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing into her touch.

"I know." She slipped her hands under his shirt and kneaded at the knots in his back until the tension in his body melted away. He gave a soft moan. Her fingernails dug into his skin, and he could sense her desire in the pressure of her fingers. Turning to kiss her, he pulled her down onto the sofa. Her hands slid beneath the waistband of his trousers, making him ache with anticipation. Before he lost himself in the heat of her lips, he flicked his wand at the curtains to hide the two of them from view.

Harry was still napping when the wind picked up and clouds covered the sky. "I feel safer now," Lily said. She was stretched out on the sofa beside James, her hair spilling over the cushions and across her pale, freckled skin.

James nodded. "Me too." He looked around at the coffee table and the cushion beside him. "I left my wand in the kitchen just now, but I don't even care. I don't feel like I'll need it at a moment's notice, you know?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far." Her eyes drifted to the arm of the sofa where her wand sat.

He shook his head. "I trust Pete. He wouldn't let anything happen to us. We're safe here."

She touched his knee, sympathy heavy in her expression. "I know it's still killing you, asking Wormy to put himself at risk like this for us. I feel guilty, too. But it's for Harry."

He sighed. "I know. I just hate letting everyone else fight the war while I hunker down, safe and sound." He raked a hand through his hair and rested his head on her shoulder. "Sorry, I know I've been saying the same damn thing since we went into hiding. I thought it might get easier, but it doesn't."

"I hate it just as much as you do. It eats at me every time I hear about another battle that went wrong, or another friend we've lost. But there's nothing we can do about it." She stroked his hand with her thumb. "You can complain as much as you like, by the way. That's what I'm here for. That, and giving really good back rubs."

The rain was coming down in sheets as they stood and began to get dressed.

"I miss the Halloween feasts at Hogwarts," James said as he wriggled into his trousers.

Lily glanced over at him as she fastened her bra. "I dunno. I feel like the Halloween feast was always an excuse for someone to pull a stupid prank."

James laughed. "Yeah, that someone was me, except the pranks weren't stupid. They were brilliant."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it was really brilliant to fill all the girls' toilets with bats."

"That wasn't us," James said, frowning. "Although we did end up taking credit for it, just because it was easier than correcting people."

"I do miss the actual feasts," Lily admitted. "All the food and the decorations. Flitwick let me help decorate once."

James grinned. "I remember. The Great Hall never looked better." He tilted his head sideways to look at her. "Let's decorate the house. Harry would love it, and you can show off your advanced Charms skills."

Lily smiled. "Your Charms skills are just as good as mine."

"I guess we'll see."

They covered the walls with spiderwebs and lined the rooms with orange twinkly lights. James wanted to conjure live bats, but Lily insisted that was unsanitary, so they settled for paper bats instead. Bathilda had brought over a couple pumpkins, and they carved them when Harry woke up. Harry was happy to mash the pumpkin guts in his hands, but James carefully stenciled out and carved the Ballycastle Bats logo onto his pumpkin

"Is that a chupacabra?" James squinted his eyes and peered at the undefined shape she had carved into her pumpkin. "Or, wait, a Krup?"

Lily set down her knife and sighed. "It's a cat."

James turned his head and frowned. "Oh, okay. I see it now."

Lily threw a pumpkin seed at him. "Arsehole."

His eyes strayed to Harry. "Real nice, calling me an arsehole in front of our son."

"Oh, shut up." She stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Stay here and admire your perfect pumpkin, if you like. I'm going to make dinner."

5:00 pm

Dinner wasn't anything special – just beans on toast – but James tried his best to make it feel like a Hogwarts feast. He pulled a flask from his pocket and tipped some into Lily's pumpkin juice.

"Like Padfoot used to do," he said, smirking before adding some to his own glass.

After a few sips of his drink, James tried to throw an ice cube down her shirt. She squealed and threw one back, then threw her hands over her drink to block his retaliatory shot.

She shook her head and gestured at the ice cubes melting on the floor. "Great example we're setting for Harry."

James looked at Harry and grinned. Harry's chubby fingers toyed with a half-melted ice cube, and a smile lit his face as he giggled. A glob of pumpkin guts was smeared across his shirt, and more was smashed between his fingers.

"He needs a bath." James took a long swallow of his spiked pumpkin juice, then scooped Harry up and started for the bathroom. "Hopefully no inconsiderate tossers filled the loo with bats."

James settled himself on the bathroom floor as Harry happily splashed in the bathtub. Hot, steamy air filled the room, fogging up the mirror. Harry gave an enthusiastic splash, and water spattered across James's glasses.

"What happened in here?" Lily asked as she opened the bathroom door and stepped in a puddle. "Why didn't you do an Impervius?"

James shook water from his glasses and shrugged. "He thinks it's funny when I get all wet."

Harry slammed his hand down and splattered both of them with water, then laughed at his startled, dripping parents.

"I can't blame him," Lily said as she wrung out the ends of her hair. "You do look pretty funny with your hair all plastered to your face like that."

After the bath, they dressed Harry in pajamas Peter had given him for his birthday. The soft blue fabric was printed with tiny Krups, and James noticed a small stain on the sleeve as he fastened the snaps. Carrots, he thought, running his thumb over the spot. Or maybe pumpkin.

"These aren't going to fit him for much longer." Lily tickled the bare ankle exposed at the bottom of the pajamas.

James grinned. "Don't cry, Evs."

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't going to."

"Okay, but you cried when he outgrew the leather jacket Pads got him."

"Oh, shut up." She shoved his shoulder. "That was sad, alright?"

They brought Harry back downstairs and plopped him down on the living room floor to play with his blocks. Lily left to tidy up the kitchen; a minute later Harry tripped and let out a wail. The sound sent the startled cat scurrying from the room.

"Hey. Don't cry." James scooped him up and bounced him on his knee. When the crying didn't abate, he shot colorful smoke from his wand. Harry's eyes widened as he followed the smoke's path through the air and tried to grab it.

Lily came back into the living room, humming a Paul Simon song. Her long hair fell into her face, and there was a pumpkin seed stuck to her arm, but James didn't point it out. She placed his glass of spiked pumpkin juice on the coffee table and smiled.

"You didn't finish your drink."

He grinned and shot a jet of blue smoke from his wand. "I was too busy throwing ice cubes at you."

"Sometimes I feel like we shouldn't be allowed to be adults."

"Me too." A puff of yellow smoke replaced the blue, and Harry dragged his fist through it, giggling.

Lily's smile faltered. "But most of the time…" She left the thought unfinished.

James nodded heavily. "Yeah." He stood and scooped up Harry, then handed him to Lily. "Do you want to put him to bed while I make you another drink, and maybe a special Halloween dessert?" He threw his wand onto the sofa and stretched, yawning. "I wouldn't be opposed to going to bed soon, either. I'm knackered."

He headed for the kitchen, whistling the Paul Simon song Lily often sang to Harry before bed. The firewhisky had made him sleepy; he yawned again and thought longingly of their puffy duvet and Lily in the old Quidditch jumper she liked to sleep in.

There was a crash from the hall. The front door just swung open and hit the wall, James realized, his body already hurtling toward the hall before his brain had time to catch up. He's here. Words burst from his lips, echoing in his own panicked voice although he had no memory of speaking.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off."

He had imagined this scene many times, lying awake listening to Lily's steady breathing or rocking Harry to sleep in his nursery. The details varied – sometimes Voldemort appeared in the middle of the day; other times he crept into the cottage while they were sleeping; once James had dreamt he went downstairs in the morning to find Voldemort sitting at the kitchen table. But no matter what the circumstances, James was always paralyzed by fear.

Now that he was facing the real Lord Voldemort and not a figment of his imagination, the fear never came. He felt detached, disconnected, as though watching the events unfold from a distance. It was bizarre, almost absurd, seeing Lord fucking Voldemort in their hallway, standing beside Harry's pram and Lily's muddy boots and one of Sirius's empty cigarette packets that he had forgotten to throw away. He had a strange urge to laugh when he saw Voldemort's foot slide over the Marlboro packet. Imagine if Voldemort fell and broke his neck tripping over your cigarette packet, and that's how we won the bloody war, he would tell Sirius later. A lead weight slid into the pit of his stomach as a thought occurred to him. If there was a later.

Voldemort's wand quivered in his long white fingers. James thought of his own wand, tossed onto the sofa cushions, and experienced a pang of regret so strong he could barely stay on his feet. If only he had brought it with him to the kitchen. I never thought I would need it. I never thought Peter would break the Fidelius Charm.

Peter. His stomach twisted as he wondered what they must have done to Peter to extract the secret from him. Shrieks of pain and pleas for mercy filled his head, followed by an image of Peter sobbing and writhing on the ground as he tried to withstand the Cruciatus Curse. I would have withstood it, James thought, anger flaring up hot and sudden. I would have endured it to protect him. But the rage dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving only sadness in its place. Peter was never good at setting aside pain or fear. He did the best he could. James hoped they had spared Peter's life. It's not his fault we roped him into this.

Lord Voldemort raised his wand, his sleeve falling down to reveal pale, thin arms. James moved backward to block the doorway. It was a pointless, futile gesture – what chance did he stand facing Voldemort unarmed? Yet even if he could hold him off for a few seconds, that would buy Lily more time to escape with Harry. He had to try. He had to do what he could for them, even if it was small and insignificant.

High, cold laughter issued from Voldemort's lips, but James hardly heard it. Memories flashed through his mind, drowning out his surroundings. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat in front of the common room fire, laughing and playing Exploding Snap… James and Sirius circled the pool on their brooms, trying to land Quaffles in the inflatable tube below while Euphemia and Fleamont looked on from their lounge chairs… Dead leaves rustled under his hooves as he bounded after his friends, Moony's howl shattering the hushed silence of the forest… Sirius and Mary levitated six drinks while James, Lily, Peter, and Remus sat at their usual booth in the back of the Three Broomsticks… Lily walked toward him, tears sparkling in her eyes and splashing onto her delicate white lace dress… Harry turned his head to smile at him from Lily's arms…

James clung to the last memory, letting the images swallow him up until the cramped hallway faded. He held tightly to the small details: the little tuft of black hair that stuck up on the side of Harry's head; the spark of recognition and joy in his eyes as his lips turned up into a smile; the burp cloth draped over Lily's shoulder; the soft sway of her body as she rocked Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!"

James didn't hear the curse or see the flash of light; he was enveloped by thoughts of his family.