Disclaimer: I own the idea behind this song fic. The characters and places of the Harry Potter series belong to Rowling and other associated companies. Billy Joel owns 'Goodnight My Angel (Lullaby)'.
Author's Note: I've found writing song fiction rather enjoyable as it turns out. Whether there are more to come after this…I don't know. I guess it depends on how much writer's block I'm suffering from. Anyway, I've had this one kicking around in my head for a while and I'm only putting it down for my own mental health. I'm not sure how much I even like Lily. Fanfiction has rather tainted my view of Harry's parents (no offense meant to writers of Lily/James fiction). But the song was too sweet not to write. So, I hope you like 'Lullaby'.
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'Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes…'
As she half whispered, half sang softly to the inquisitive eyes and the smiling baby face that stared up at her. Lily wasn't sure she wanted what she was asking. Already Harry had been in the world for an unforgettable week and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. His own emerald eyes were breathtaking. She never thought she would find such a vivid resemblance to herself staring out of a face that looked nothing like her. She reflected, hoping that he wouldn't grow tired and close those delicate baby lids, shutting her out of his dream-world, how one day somewhere on the far horizon of time, she would be gone and these glorious eyes would be all that was left to testify to her.
He gave up the fight to drowsiness and drifted off as she rhythmically rubbed his small baby tummy and sang softly, leaning over him on one elbow as he slept beside her. She wondered what he was dreaming of. Would he dream of her?
'And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think I know what you've been trying to say…'
Already a year had passed and Lily still lingered dreamily on the expression of Harry's eyes. He was always watching her. Asking her questions, though he hadn't said so much as a few simple words and the usual baby sounds. His eyebrows would raise in that way babies had of asking, when she left his eyesight for the moment, "Will you be back?" And they would light up as she appeared moments later, almost relieved that he'd worried for her in vain—if indeed babies were capable of such emotion. He did this frequently now as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing for his party that evening. Checking the clock in the front room every so often, leaving to dig something out of the broom closet, he would ask her the same question, craning his small infant form around in his highchair so as to keep his glorious green eyes with those dark and delicate lashes on her as much as he could.
She sang to him to reassure him that she was there, though he could not see her.
'I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go, no matter where you are
I never will be far away…'
Lily, watching her life, her Harry, covered in cake and frosting, soaring through the air and giggling as his godfather tossed him gently. She felt a vague twinge of jealousy from some unknown and secret cavern of her heart. Sirius was a hero to Harry. He looked at him differently with those eyes than he'd looked at her. He always seemed to adore her the way she adored him. But there was no faint raise of his eyebrows, a question of 'Where are you going? Are you going to leave me?"
She loved that at such a young age he treasured her so much. She couldn't spend more than bare minutes away from him and his questions seemed to confirm that he felt the same way. But still she was jealous of Harry's carefree and playful air with Sirius.
A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie. She was faced with three gleaming and mischievous smiles. James, Peter and Remus had come up behind her and asked her to follow them. They had holed themselves up in Harry's room for the past half hour while Sirius entertained both her and Harry. She was only mildly interested in what had occupied them. They explained that they had been working on a gift for Harry's birthday. She was to be the judge as to whether he would like it or hate it.
Upon entering Harry's room she found the most ridiculous sight and she had to laugh.
The walls were decked out in Quidditch posters, both vintage and current. Distracting scenes of flying Chasers and Seekers, aggressive Beaters and scowling Keepers littered the walls.
"He won't be able to sleep, you three. You'll keep him up with all of this distraction," she laughed surveying their work.
James beamed at her. "Maybe it will have some influence, athletically, I mean."
"What if he turns out to hate Quidditch?" Peter asked leaning against the door frame of the room.
"He could turn out to be a whiz at Potions, James," Remus suggested with a smirk.
Lily smiled and shook her head again. "I don't think he's old enough to even care, guys. But it looks great."
Sirius came in behind them carrying the now washed birthday boy. Handing him to Lily, Sirius complimented his mates on a fine decoration job.
Harry stared in awe.
Lily, for the first time in a string of dealings with Quidditch obsessed men, suddenly hated the sport and Harry's natural enthusiasm for it worried her.
"He's not playing Quidditch," she protested, knowing full well what kind of censure she would get for the statement. She was standing in a room of full-fledged fanatics and a new fan was being formed every second that Harry watched the fluid movements of the images on the posters.
"Of course he is," James, Peter and Sirius all countered in the same instance.
"It's dangerous," she offered, holding Harry closer to her.
"I think it may be a little too early to set Harry's future in stone," Remus added wisely. "He has talent enough for many things. How about we leave the final decision up to him and clear off?"
"Yes," agreed Lily. "It'll take me forever to get him to sleep with all of this commotion going on around him," she finished, jerking her head toward a Wimbourne Wasp in a dive.
'Goodnight my angel now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an Emerald Bay…'
She settled the distracted bundle down and changed him hurriedly for bed. It was a more difficult task than usual as he was craning around and squirming to keep his eyes on the players. She thought with a slight pang of how much she would miss moments like these, changing, bathing, feeding. There would come a day when he wouldn't need her anymore. She wondered if she could bear it. Even the way that James and the others had discussed the eventuality of it, interest in Quidditch, school, and all, she couldn't help but wish that things could go on like this for a while longer.
She wished for all of those things for him as well. But when that time came, she feared he would lose that connection with her, that need to be always with her. She felt that she would never lose that connection to him. But what if one day it had vanished, suddenly?
She banished the thought from her head and settled down in the rocking chair, holding him close to her. She would just have to cherish moments like this when she had them and keep them with her when he grew up and grew too old for her doting. She kissed his soft baby forehead as he yawned.
'And like a boat out on the ocean
I'm rocking you to sleep
The water's dark and deep
Inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me…'
As he yawned and fought sleep, tiny eyelids drooping slowly only to raise swiftly awake and droop again, she sang to him and rocked him in her arms, his head lolling back and forth against her in rhythmic answer to sleep's tempting call.
She stared at his face, so much like James', and guessed at what dreams he might have, what talents he would one day show, what sort of future he would pursue.
With one gentle finger she smoothed his unruly dark hair and brushed his delicate cheek.
Where was the girl that would one day take her place? He would one day find the love of his life and he would look at her that way that Lily cherished and she would have to step aside, yielding her treasure, her baby boy to her. She would one day see him married and happy. She prayed that whoever would be lucky enough to capture this all-too-worthy heart was deserving enough of it.
'Goodnight my angel now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry and if you sing this lullaby
Then in your heart there will always be a part of me…'
Thinking how painful it will be to give him up—her life, the best part of her—someday for another, she smiled at what joy it would bring him to be rocking his own child to sleep adoring them, singing to them, feeling his heart run over with far more love than it can contain—the way she was feeling now. She knew how easy it would be to make that sacrifice, to give him up for that special girl. But part of her would always be with him—she knew that too.
Three more months went by and Harry had grown and Lily had grown worried. They were in hiding. That baby way that Harry had of looking at her, questioning her, happy and relieved to see her reappear when she had left him, had begun to unsettle her.
He wasn't looking at her like that at the moment, splashing and laughing and carrying on the way mischievous little boys do—knowing he was being difficult and loving it.
His high peels of laughter made Lily laugh as well, wet as she was from his splashing bath water. Two baby teeth and a tongue protruded adorably from his slightly parted lips as he relished in the trouble he was causing.
After wrestling him into pajamas, they settled down to the part of the day that she enjoyed the most—their evening lullaby. Things had changed. They were cautious and scared. But this treasured routine remained comfortingly constant.
And then he pushed away from her as she sat him down in her lap, settling into the rocking chair and their evening ritual. His tiny baby fists clung to her shirt and he stared up at her, unblinking, eyebrows raised, the emerald depths of his eyes asking her again if she would leave him.
She kissed his forehead and settled him in her arms, his grasp still tight on her sleeve.
Her heart stopped as she heard the commotion. The door. Shouts. James yelling for her to get Harry out. She heard it all from the upstairs bedroom with numbing panic. Harry heard it too.
And then silence.
Her heart beat faster in time to the rhythmic ascending footfalls of someone on the stairway. It wasn't James. She knew he was dead—she had felt it.
She raced to the crib across the room with mounting terror. Everything was in a slow-moving haze, she couldn't seem to move fast enough, and they were trapped.
She hugged Harry to her knowing that it would be the last time she would ever hold him. She closed her eyes and breathed in that intoxicating smell of baby shampoo. He looked at her, questioning all the while she pried his fingers gently from her shirt.
She heard the door open and spun around to meet the intruder. It was as she feared. Voldemort.
Placing herself between her assailant and Harry she stood firmly rooted to the spot. Her fingers held a fiercely white-knuckled grip on the rungs of his crib. She barely heard the offers he made her if only she would give up her child.
Never.
He raised his wand.
She turned and looked one last time into his bright green eyes, she felt the hot stream of a tear as it rolled down her cheek. He wasn't questioning her anymore. He seemed to understand why she had to leave him now—or at least she hoped he would in time.
Harry's mouth widened briefly into a fond smile, the way he would always do when waving goodbye. She shook her head. It was only goodbye for a little while.
In the seconds before the final curse that ripped life suddenly from her, she finished the lullaby, promising her little boy—her life—that it wouldn't be forever.
'Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabies go on and on
They never die, That's how you and I will be…'
