Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Nineteen: Parenthood

I was back in my parents' mansion, in the receiving hall. There was no one around and I could hear only the sound of weeping. I walked, confused, towards the sound.

It was coming from the dining room. My mother and father both were weeping, their faces buried solemnly in their hands, shaking with tears, as they sat on either end of the dining table. "Mother? Father? What is the matter?"

"My poor boy!" my mother cried. "So young!"

"Mother? Tell me what is wrong!"

"Such innocents!" my father wailed.

"Father! Please, let me help," I said soothingly. I wanted to reach out a hand to comfort them but found my hands occupied. Looking down, I noticed a baby boy cradled in my arms. He appeared to be a little over a year old, with tufts of rich, black hair covering his head and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt over his eyebrow. He stared up at me with an inquiring glance and I gasped at the shocking green eyes I beheld. "Are you my son?" He merely smiled at me.

Suddenly, a breeze blew a large set of French doors open in the dining room, behind my mother. From the bright white light, Prongs stepped into the room. "Prongs?" He nodded at me and snorted in reply. His antlers had grown and reached to the ceiling of the room. I couldn't help but be mystified by the subtle yet powerful gaze as he held his head high. If the lion is the king of all beasts, no one had told Prongs. Stepping gracefully like a ballerina with pointe shoes, he came towards me. He gave a look that clearly meant that I was to follow him, then he turned away into the bright light outside. Adjusting the little infant in my arms, I walked after him.

I was in a lush green forest. The sunshine trickled down through the summer leaves, creating patterns of shadow and dots on the path. I looked behind me but my childhood home was gone along with my parents. Prongs gave me a look of urgency. He tiptoed along the cleared path as I followed alongside him with the baby. The air was warm and sweet and the wind managed to sneak in a few puffs across my neck now and then.

After walking through the forest, we came upon a clearing. There was what looked like a Greek temple. Its marble columns shone magically in the sunshine far above. There were no windows and the stairs did not go up very far. The entire structure was gleaming; there was no dust, no marks, no indication of being modern or ancient. Prongs nodded his head towards it: I was to enter. He walked with me until we reached the steps. I journeyed up but he remained at the base like a guard dog.

Inside were pews upon pews of people. I recognized a few but most were strangers. They were dressed in many fine and luxurious robes in various colours and patterns. All were under deep distress. Some were wailing and crying without abandon. Others comforted the saddened with grim faces and wet eyes. A few sat silently in the pews as tears ran down their faces without bothering to wipe them away.

Leaning against the white wall on my left, Peter stood with his arms crossed. He was not crying; his face was blank of emotion. I walked over to him and saw that his right hand was bleeding badly. His crossed arms allowed him to stick his hand under his left arm. Whether it was to disguise the injury or stop the bleeding, I wasn't sure. He was dressed in grey high-quality robes except for the dark red spot where the blood stained under his arm. The blood lingered on other areas, I noticed, like someone had flicked a bloodied paintbrush at him many times. A few of the grieving came over to Peter and bowed deeply, muttering thanks and praise. One or two bent to their knees and kissed the hem of his robes. Peter said nothing and his expression did not change.

In the very front middle pew, Remus sat stiff-backed, alone on the very left side. I went to him. His jaw was firmly set like stone. His eyes were dry but they burned with grief, disbelief, and fury. His hands were clasped tightly together in his lap as if he longed to hurt someone and only his will power was holding him in the lonely pew. He was dressed in black with white lining, however these were of mediocre quality as if Remus hadn't bothered with how he appeared and had thrown some random robe on without caring. He stared straight ahead, his pained eyes unmoving. No one came to praise Remus or even to comfort him. I turned my head to see what held Remus' fascination. It was two white closed coffins side by side on a platform covered in black satin. Lilies surrounded them.

In back corner of the large room, a door slammed open. A pair of dementors swooped out, dragging someone behind them in their clawed hands: Sirius. Sirius was dressed in Azkaban prison robes, blood splattered over his front. He was struggling with all his might, screaming for someone to believe him, someone to save him. As he passed the coffins, he cried, "I didn't do it! I may have been to blame but I didn't do it! Please, someone, anyone, please listen!" But no one was listening and the dementors continued to pull him along. He screamed to Remus, "Please! Remus, help me! You know I didn't do any of it!" Remus seemed to snap out of his reverie and turned only his head to stare at Sirius, who was slowly passing by. Remus blinked blankly at him and then he drew in his breath, his throat gargling, and spat in Sirius' face. "Rot in Hell, traitor," Remus hissed coldly and turned back to stare at the coffins.

Sirius continued to scream and wail as he dragged between the pews. He called out to some members in the crowd by name. Most did not even acknowledge his cries but near the end, Marguerite, one of the silent onlookers whose tears just ran down her face, raised her hand, half-reaching out to him but at the last second, she shook her head sadly, drew her arm back and looked away. Sirius looked at Peter, who was still leaning against the wall, unfazed. "Peter! Curse you, Peter!" he screamed in rage. Peter merely raised his right hand and wriggled his fingers to say good-bye. I gasped when he did this because his index finger was missing and the hand was covered in blood from the wound. With one final howl of despair, the dementors led him out of the building. Suddenly, little Percy Weasley appeared at Peter's side, grinning up at him, offering an outstretched hand, saying cheerfully, "Want to come home with me? I'll take real good care of you and I'll love you forever." Peter shrugged and took the boy's hand in his left. Percy squealed with glee and led Peter out of the building, rattling on, "I'll call you Scabbers, like in Auntie Virginia's book even though I'm not supposed to talk about her anymore. I've got red hair like Ron Seannings and my little baby brother was named Robert but now he's Ron like Ron Seannings so I guess he can play with you too and..."

"What is going on?" I demanded but received no reply. Finally, I went up to the closed coffins and adjusted the baby so I could use my other hand to open the lid. I opened the left one and the lid was surprisingly light. Once the coffin was open, I looked inside. It was Lily. Her eyes were closed and I could see that her hands were crossed over her chest; she looked like she was merely sleeping. With a startled yelp, I closed the coffin and resolved myself against my gut to open the other coffin. I, of course, was in the other one. I shook my head in disbelief. How can this be? Why are we both dead?

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around to see one of the mourners with her arms outstretch as if to embrace me. "Is that the boy? Is that really him?"

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, frantic.

Soon, other mourners came up behind her, buzzing, whispering, "It's him. It's really him! Look at his scar!" They were all pointing to the baby or reaching out to me. They were completely enraptured, like cult members before their deity. I backed away as they came forward, more numerous.

"Go away! I don't understand! Leave us be!" I demanded angrily. They just followed me, pressing closer and closer. They begged me to let them touch him, hold him, behold the scar on his head, while reaching out like demons from the depths of the underworld. "Stop! Leave us alone! Stop pressing against me!" The baby began to cry and I clung to him tightly. I wouldn't let these crazy people near him. "You're scaring him! You're scaring me!" They crowded in closer, the ones in front started stroking him with their fingers. I pulled farther back, pressing him against my chest, his face hidden in my shoulder. He was still crying and squirming in fear. "Don't you dare come closer!" They did anyway. They were like one huge many-headed monster that couldn't be heeled. "We want the Boy-Who-Lived," they chanted. I tried to shield him with my body. I screamed with paternal rage, "No! You can't have him! He's just a little boy! He's frightened, don't you understand?! You're all scaring him! He doesn't want your attention! He doesn't want all this! Leave us alone, do you hear me?! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

The crowd shuddered and separated as Prongs burst them apart with his bulk and antlers. The mob was knocked off their feet as Prongs stood in front of me, nearly nose to nose. Shaking with rage and fright, I knew what I had to do. "Come on, Prongs, let's get out of here." I crawled on to Prongs' back like he was a riding horse and he galloped out of the building.

We rode through the beautiful forest at high speed, putting as much distance as possible between us and the crazy baby worshippers back in the temple. I stroked the baby's hair and eventually he stopped crying, even managing a smile. Even though Prongs was flying at breakneck speeds, I was able to comfortably observe my son in my arms. I cuddled him against my neck and absorbed his warmth. He fit perfectly everywhere I put him and in every position I placed him. "I love you," I told him, kissing the scar on his head, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Then I felt the bottom of my stomach drop as Prongs and his riders changed altitude. Out of nowhere, a cliff had appeared and since Prongs had been going so fast, he couldn't stop in time and we began to free fall down towards a stream. The three of us split apart, flying in opposite directions. I reached out my arms to grab my son but he flew away from me.

After forever, I landed harshly in the stream. I moved my leg slightly and I grit my teeth in pain. My leg was broken so I wasn't going to be walking anywhere. I looked around me but to my horror, I couldn't see where my baby had landed. I searched madly, my breathing quickened in panic. "Where are you?" I cried.

There! He was floating downstream and Prongs was nearby on the shore. Prongs got up, shook himself, and stepped into the water. The baby's blanket caught on a collection of pointy plants growing off from the shore. He bobbed in the slow current of the stream, fussing in the cloth. Prongs looked at me. "Go get him, Prongs! Bring him to me!" Prongs nodded curtly and skipped lightly over to my son. He nibbled on the plants in order to free him. Suddenly, he stopped and raised his head to peer into the forest on the shore. A great bang rang out. Prongs gave a strong moan. A large red spot grew on his flank and he rose to stand on his hind legs, rolling his front legs madly, and stepped back on all four. He teetered to one side and then the other before crashing into the water.

"NO!" I screamed. I tried to propel myself forward but I found that my unbroken leg was caught in some underwater plant and it had no intention of releasing my ankle. Flailing madly to free myself, I kept screaming at Prongs' fate. Who had done this?

Suddenly, a man walked out of the forest, totting an old-fashioned Muggle rifle over his shoulder. He was tall, beefy man with nearly no neck and a red face. His moustache was well-trimmed and thick. It was Vernon Dursley. I stopped moving, perplexed at the identity of Prongs' murderer. "Well," he barked, "that's the end of that nonsense. No more of that foolery!" Behind him, Petunia, Lily's sister, stepped out primly. She very carefully tiptoed into the water as if it was molten lava and stopped by my son. Making a face as if she was readying herself for something revolting, she detached the bundle from the thorny plant and picked up the fabric containing him with only her thumb and forefinger, holding him as far away from her as possible as if he was some sort of slug.

"What is that?" Vernon remarked, wrinkling his nose.

"That's my son," I explained. I reached out my hands. I begged, "Please, give him to me."

Petunia made a face. "Absolutely not! You'll make him like you, a freak!"

Vernon nodded in agreement. "We have to squash your influence right out of him."

"Time to put a stop," Petunia spat, shuddering, "to this abnormality."

She turned away, still holding the bundle at arm's length, heading back to Vernon. Vernon looked thoroughly revolted. "It's hideous," he remarked.

"I know," she replied matter-of-factly, "he'll be just like my sister and her husband. Filthy thing, isn't he?"

"For the love of everything good and just, give me my son!" I cried, trying to launch myself towards them but I couldn't move.

They ignored me. They continued to walk into the forest. Vernon asked, "Where are we going to keep it?"

"I don't know," Petunia answered, shrugging, "The cupboard under the stairs is empty."

"Sounds good enough."

I flailed in the water, screaming at them to give me my son back, tears streaming down my face.

*** ***

I bolted awake. I had to stop them! I grabbed my glasses and hurried downstairs. Not only that, I had to save Sirius from those dementors. They were obviously dragging him to Azkaban by the looks of it.

I ran madly through the kitchen, crashing into someone, who grabbed me in alarm.

"You got to help me! My friend, Sirius, was taken by dementors to Azkaban and these horrid Muggles, my sister-in-law and her husband, took my son and I need to save him quickly and..."

"Wait! Who was taken to Azkaban by dementors?"

"Sirius Black, my friend. But I can save him later. I need to save my son..."

"From the Dursleys?"

"Yes and..." I paused and finally saw who was talking. It was Sirius who looked a cross between confused and highly amused.

"And I got taken away by dementors?" he asked, smiling. I held my head, shaking away sleep. I felt very disoriented. "I'm still here, James, so that's not true." He took a step back and looked me over. "And you were going to launch a rescue party in your pajama bottoms?"

I looked down at myself. I was only wearing the pants I wear to bed. I didn't have a shirt on. I didn't have any socks on and I didn't have any shoes. I did look pretty ridiculous. Sirius, on the other hand, was fully dressed and clean. There was breakfast being prepared around him. "When did you get up?"

"Two hours ago. I thought you were going to be up at the crack of dawn like some kid at Christmas and drag me out of bed so I made sure I got up before you could do bodily harm. But you had a lie-in instead so I made breakfast."

"Thanks," I said. I couldn't help the feeling I was supposed to be doing something.

"But I'd recommend getting showered and dressed first."

"Why?"

"Because Remus and Peter are going to be here in about five minutes and I don't think either of you want them to see you half-naked."

"Five minutes?!" Growling, I ran up the stairs and took a quick shower and dressed myself at top speed. When I was half-way dressed, it hit me. My son was born this morning! I could go visit now. "What time is it, Sirius?" I hollered down.

"10:45," Peter's voice yelled back.

I continued dressing myself as I hurried down the stairs. "Can we visit Lily and the baby now?" I asked, excited.

"You're finally awake," Sirius replied. "I was wondering when the 'little kid at Christmas' personality would take over."

"Is it visiting hours yet?"

"Yes, it is but we can't go yet."

"Why not?" I whined.

"We're waiting for Remus," Peter explained.

"His mum has to get him out of bed. He was sleeping when I called," Sirius added.

"What's he sleeping for?" I demanded.

"Eat something, James," Sirius ordered as Peter pointed importantly to a chair. I slammed into it as Sirius handed me a plate. "Anyway, he didn't get home until one o'clock in the morning, according to his mother."

"He can catch up!"

"That's rather unfair," Peter remarked. "We don't have to rush out of here. Lily isn't going to run away."

I bounced impatiently in my seat as Peter helped himself to some breakfast, explaining that he had just woken up himself.

"You're not eating," Sirius commented. "Eat."

"What are you, my nanny?" I snapped. "Where's Remus?"

"Probably getting into the shower," Sirius answered. "You can eat while we all wait."

"I'm not hungry," I explained, "I'm too excited."

"If you don't eat," Peter said, swallowing, "Lily will know. It's a little known fact that all mothers have a special sensor that tells them when anyone has not eaten breakfast, done their homework, had enough sleep, and important things like that. Since Lily is a new mother, she will sense you not eating breakfast and we will all get a motherly lecture." Sirius started cracking up. "Oh, and godmothers, too. Let's not forget them."

"You're right about that. I swear," Sirius said, sitting down and helping himself and me to food, "Clarissa was psychic or something. She just knew."

"My mother is the same way, that's how I know," Peter replied.

After a few moments of quiet chewing, there was a pop and Remus, his hair still wet, stormed in. "I hate customs officials," he growled.

"Good morning, Remus," Sirius answered, sarcastically. "You're certainly chipper."

"Sit down, Remus, we're having breakfast," Peter said, nodding at the empty chair.

"Unless you just want to go," I suggested, grinning.

"He doesn't," Sirius interrupted. "Eat your food. We're not leaving until you eat all that," he ordered, pointing at my still-full plate of breakfast.

"So, we've gathered that you hate customs officials," Peter prompted. Remus dragged the chair away from the table and began filling his plate with food angrily.

"Well, I went to customs and I told them that I lost my license when they checked for it. But the girl said she didn't have it. But she told me that some other official might be able to help me. So, I waited and I waited. I finally got him but he couldn't help but this other official might be able to help me."

"How many officials did you get through?" I asked.

"Oh, no," Remus answered bitterly, "I haven't reached the good part. So, after three officials, they ask me to describe any special markings. Well, I wanted it back so I said, 'Well, it states that I'm a werewolf if that helps.' Of course, their attitude completely changes from bad to worse. Why was I leaving in such a hurry? Where was I going? Where was I coming from? What is my business in the country? How did I learn Apparation in the first place? Was I registered?"

"Well, obviously, you're registered!" Sirius interrupted, "no one just puts 'werewolf' on it just for kicks!"

Remus growled. "It took hours upon hours. Finally, they take me to the official who monitors Tradable Creatures going in and out of the country, the final humiliation! Anyway, of course, he doesn't know what to do and I had to wait with him for hours. They finally came back to tell me that I didn't need to visit this idiot and oh, by the way, whoops, the license on the desk of the first person I went to!"

"So, that was at one?" Peter asked.

"Yes, that was at one. Oh, those people are lucky it's not closer to the full moon or they wouldn't be completely healthy right now." Remus sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't get your message. My mum was trying to tell me as I headed to bed but I told her to be quiet, I was too tired."

Sirius tapped his fork against the plate slowly before saying, "So, that's Remus. Where were you exactly, Peter?"

"Oh," Peter explained, "I had to go shopping for food. I was in the store, walking down the aisle and guess who I ran into?"

"Snape?" Remus suggested. Peter shook his head.

"Whetstone?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Celestina Warbeck?" Sirius wondered.

"Blithe, the violist," Peter answered. "So, we got to talking and we went out for drinks. I didn't return home until one o'clock myself. I saw the post but I thought it was bills or something so I didn't bother looking at them. I'm really sorry."

"You better be!" Sirius replied melodramatically, "I was left all alone with only a cigar-smoking crazy man to make fun of by myself."

"What?" the rest of us stammered.

"There was this old man smoking cigars in the waiting room. Apparently his daughter was in there and he was a mess. The nurses kept coming by, telling him to put it out but he wouldn't listen. So, I took out my wand and doused it and every other one he lit. He was ready to kill me by the time his grand-daughter was born." He sighed. "I wish I had asked Marguerite to come to St. Mungo's to wait with me but oh, well. At least she got a full night's sleep. I'm seeing her today at four," he explained to Remus and Peter, who nodded in understanding.

I slammed my fork down on my empty plate. "Look, all gone," I exclaimed. "Let's go."

*** ***

"Good morning, starshine... the earth says 'hellooooo'..." Sirius sang as we all covered our ears. Sirius is horribly tone-deaf. Furthermore, he looked pretty silly, skipping and twirling through the hall as he sang.

"Sirius! Please, don't sing that song!" Remus cried. "I hate that song."

"Fine," Sirius said confidently, "I won't." He continued walking down the hall of St. Mungo's near the area where an orderly said we would find the window where all the babies were kept. As we all removed our hands, Sirius sang again, "Let the sunshine... leeeeet the sunshine in... the suuuuunshiiine iiiinnn..."

"AAA! That's even worse!" Remus yelled as Sirius laughed. "No selections from 'Hair'!"

"My boooody is flooooating through spaaaace..." Sirius sang as Remus ran up to him to bat him on the head.

"That's still a song from 'Hair'!"

"What you would prefer me to sing, then?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing would be gr..."

"I'm nothing without you, walking hand in haaaand..."

"Stop! I hate that song, too!"

"There it is!" I cried, seeing the long window. I pushed through Sirius and Remus, breaking them apart, and pressed my face against the window like a Quidditch fan when a new broom in showed in the store display case, except the drool. "Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?" I asked frantically. "I can't read the names!"

"James," Sirius said quietly, tapping me on the shoulder, "before your heart explodes from stress, why don't you move so Remus can see? Remus has 30/20 vision, after all."

"Oh, yeah," I muttered, walking reluctantly away from the window. Remus stepped forward and scanned the rows of squirming babies.

"There," he said, pointing at one baby. We gathered around him, trying to see where the finger was pointing to. "Fourth row, third baby on the left." The baby himself could not be seen as he was covered in swaddling blankets. He didn't appear to be moving.

"He's not moving," I remarked, "is that bad?"

"He's probably sleeping," Peter answered.

As Peter spoke, a nurse came in and grabbed the carrier that my son was in, rolling him away. "Hey!" I yelled. "Where's he going? Bring him back!" I began knocking on the glass slightly. Remus grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

"He's probably going to Lily's room. We'll see him there. Why don't we head there?"

"Well, before we go," Sirius said, "I was wondering if you picked a godfather yet."

Actually, I had decided a long time ago but I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings by blurting it out. "Well, I thought I'd tell the person privately..."

"Oh, I understand, you picked Remus and you don't want Peter or me to feel bad, right?"

I was gobsmacked. "Uh, no, I didn't actually pick Remus. No offense, Remus."

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "I'd pick Remus if I were you. He's dependable, he's a nice bloke, he gets along well with people, he's got good morals when it's convenient..."

"He's strong and good at protecting others, he's considerate, he has a steady job usually," Peter added, ticking them off on his fingers. "I'd pick him too."

"I don't usually have a steady job!" Remus objected. "Besides, what court would let me take him if something happened?"

"Well," Sirius argued, "Elliot got little Clarissa just fine and he wasn't named legal guardian by the parents. Not that we know who the parents are but still."

"But I bet they were really reluctant to actually let him."

"Yes, but in the end, they let him. So, you can too."

"This is irrelevant because James didn't pick me, did he?" Remus snapped.

"That's right," I said slowly, "but he was my second choice in case the godfather refused or died or something."

"It's not me, is it?" Peter squeaked.

"No, Peter, it's not. Why are you so scared?" I wondered.

"I can't handle kids. I mean, once they're six years old, I have no problems but any younger and I freak out."

"Anyway, I picked Sirius as the godfather."

Sirius blinked bemusedly at me. "But why?"

"What do you mean, 'but why?' Why not?"

"James, I am the most irresponsible one of us here, I've lost my job more than Remus has and he has his excuse for losing them; I don't, I'm the most insensitive person to walk the planet, I have no morals under any conditions, and I'm better at playing with little kids than raising them. I'm probably the worst choice here."

"I don't think you're that bad, Sirius," I answered. "I mean, I thought about this a long time when I was bed-ridden awhile back. See, I thought about what a godfather needs to do. When the parents are alive, they provide moral support. Lily always says that being a good parent is more than a good job or a house, it's about loving and caring about the child, you know? Well, I thought about that and I think Sirius could drum up enough moral and emotional support during a crisis. Even though Remus can do that too and so can Peter. But what really decided it for me, what made Remus second-choice rather than first-choice, is that I feel that Sirius understands what the role of godparent really means because he was raised by his godmother. Now, people didn't think Clarissa Tapp could raise a kid on her own and they even took her to court about it but in the end, she did a pretty decent job, better than some I could say. I think I know why: because she loved Sirius and knew that she had been given this honor by his parents and she couldn't prove their judgement false after they had placed that faith in her. She wasn't the richest or brightest woman on the planet, she had problems that she had to overcome but that didn't make a difference. And I think that Sirius' parents knew that when they decided to make Clarissa the legal guardian in the event of their deaths. So, I've decided that too and I'm appointing Sirius as the godfather and legal guardian in case our deaths."

There was dead silence after I stopped talking. I looked around anxiously at the three of them. Finally, Peter sniffled, "That was beautiful."

"I didn't realize you had put so much thought into it," Remus remarked, stunned.

"Did you write that in advance or something?" Sirius asked.

"No!" I answered. "I mean it and I'm serious. You understand what this means to me, as a parent," I added firmly. "As your friend."

"Don't guilt trip me into agreeing! I was going to say 'yes' anyway, I just think it's a weird decision."

"Was Clarissa a weird decision?"

"I guess so."

"Was she a bad legal guardian?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Then what's the problem?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, it's your decision. You're going to regret it, you know."

I smiled at him and shook my head. "Nah. I know you too well."

*** ***

After navigating our way to Lily's room, I rapped smartly on the door.

"I'm awake," Lily called sweetly if a bit weakly as well. I entered the room and grinned at her. She frowned. "You fainted."

"I know," I admitted bashfully.

"You had a look of horror and you fainted at the very sight of your newborn son."

"Don't rub it in. I wasn't quite expecting his appearance." I walked over to her side as she rolled her eyes. Remus and Peter asked Sirius to verify that I had fainted which they all had a good chuckle over at my expense. I ignored them and kissed my wife on the forehead. "How are you?"

"A little weary and a bit blue," she answered, smiling, "but they say it's normal. I should be fine." Lily still looked a little worn-out but there was a definite light shining in her eyes. "Have we decided on a name yet?"

"Um... well, I was thinking..."

"Look who's here!" Remus announced as a nurse rolled the baby into the room by Lily's bed. We all lightly cheered upon his arrival. I leaned over to take a better look at my son. He was seven pounds and his face was red as if he got sunburned. His eyes were shut and his body was wrapped in white linens. He looked much better now that he was clean.

"Do you want to hold him?" the nurse asked. I nodded. She smiled and came over to show me the fine art of holding a baby. Feeling very awkward and on display, I fumbled around for a few minutes before finally managing to hold him comfortably. Lily hummed softly to show her approval of the scene. We grinned at each other and I looked at our son. After a few moments, the nurse asked if we still needed her but we told her no so she reminded Lily to call if anything happened and left.

"So, I assume the baby was rescued from the evil Dursleys?" Sirius joked. Everyone else but me expressed confusion at such a weird statement so I told about my dream from beginning to end. By the end, we couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"Peter is little Percy's pet now!" Sirius exclaimed. "How embarrassing."

"Never mind that! What happened to my hand?" Peter replied.

"You didn't seem to mind much," I added.

"Certainly bothered Sirius in the dream though," Remus remarked, then mimicked Sirius, " 'How dare you cut off your finger!'"

"Doesn't anyone else think it's rather odd that James can interact with himself as Prongs?" Lily asked light-hearted. "And that Vernon can shoot him? I don't even think Vernon has a rifle."

"Prongs died and Wormtail became a pet!" Sirius cried dramatically. "What are the Marauders coming to?"

"Let's not forget Padfoot getting dragged to Azkaban by dementors," Remus added. "Moony lives on to fight another day!"

"What is it with people dreaming about me going to Azkaban with dementors?" Sirius scoffed.

"That's the first time I've dreamt about it," I said.

"My dad used to have a recurring nightmare about me being in Azkaban with dementors. I would cry out for his help and he would search the entire place trying to find me. Sometimes he would find me, sometimes he wouldn't. Sometimes I'd be dead, sometimes I'd be eaten away by animals, sometimes I would be an old, half-crazed skeletal man, stuff like that. He used to wake up screaming and he'd run into my room and shake me awake to make sure I was okay."

"Aw, that must have been awful," Lily moaned.

"That's because they were talking about dementors being part of Azkaban back then. And now they're talking about it again. Simple as that," Remus explained.

"They won't do it," Peter commented. "They'll talk about it but they won't actually do it. The dementors won't stick to one place, everyone knows that."

"And we won't let my sister and her husband take our son, James," Lily said. "We have our godparents lined up, don't we? No one would even consider it if something happened."

"And nothing will happen," Remus added. "Who's the godmother?"

"Olivia Longbottom. I'm Neville's godmother, for your information. He's such a cute little baby." Lily stroked our son's face, and added, "But not as cute as mine."

"Hello," Mrs. Pettigrew called from the door with the Lupins trailing behind her. "Can we come in?"

"Yes, please do," Lily answered. The three parents bustled in as Sirius crossed the room to the window to add space.

"Oh, Lily, he's so beautiful," Mrs. Lupin remarked, smiling. Mr. Lupin nodded his agreement. The Lupins are a quiet couple, saying only what was necessary. Mrs. Pettigrew is a chatterbox and began talking quickly.

Mrs. Pettigrew had raised Peter alone since he was two years old. Mr. Pettigrew had simply walked out the door one morning and never returned. Mrs. Pettigrew had been frantic with worry and a search commenced but no luck. Mr. Pettigrew had simply vanished into thin air. The police assumed him dead.

He wasn't as dead as most thought. He had become bored with his humdrum life with his wife and young child and had left for Scotland, never looking back. He didn't want to deal with the long, boring process of legal divorce so he reasoned that fake death was a good way to cut ties. It would have worked longer if his girlfriend, eleven years later, had not wanted to visit Hogsmeade on a Hogwarts Hogsmeade weekend. It was then that Peter spotted his "dead" father walking around town. He explained the story to us quickly and we worked together to surround him and catch him. We were caught by the local authorities (for assault) and the truth came out. Mrs. Pettigrew was summoned and she was furiously angry at her estranged husband of eleven years. The girlfriend was furious as well. She had known none of this and he had even told her that his "young wife and child" had died eleven years ago, probably in order to gain her sympathy. Mrs. Pettigrew divorced her husband and the girlfriend left him. As far as we know, Mr. Pettigrew really died two years after we left Hogwarts, alone and penniless. On an ironic note, the girlfriend actually became very good friends with Mrs. Pettigrew and Peter (neither blamed her for what happened) and her children (she did marry a guy who had not faked his own death) are currently having vocal and piano lessons taught by Mrs. Pettigrew. Out of habit, people continue to call her "Mrs. Pettigrew".

"Oh, babies are wondrous things, aren't they? I remember when Peter was born, such a happy day for me! I'll never forget it!" Mrs. Pettigrew sighed and clasped her hands together.

"I remember when Remus was born," Mrs. Lupin said nostalgically. "I was sitting outside, watching Mary's children play in the back garden. Mary had to take me St. Mungo's because you were at work," she explained to her husband. "Remus was very quick. Not even two hours. I believe it was one hour and fifty minutes. Ah, he was a precious baby."

"Oh, Peter took four hours. I remember it very well. Geoffrey was excited at the time and he rented a car for the due week. Pity Geoffrey didn't know how to drive," Mrs. Pettigrew commented solemnly. "Lucky he crashed on the way home or Peter wouldn't be here today." She patted Peter on the shoulder, smiling. Peter gave her a rather disturbed look but he probably thought better of asking for details.

"Hello," my mother called softly from the door. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Mother," I answered. She walked in carefully, smiling brightly. "It's a boy."

"I know. How are you two?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Lily replied and I nodded to show that I was good as well.

"Abigail," Mrs. Lupin greeted, "how wonderful to see you. It's been ages."

"Hello, Elizabeth. Is Remus home yet?"

"Yes, here I am," Remus answered, waving his hand slightly.

"We were just discussing when our children were born," Mrs. Pettigrew interrupted brightly.

"Oh, well, James was very difficult. I'm glad I delivered at home, I don't think James would've lived through the trauma of me traveling anywhere. He was so small, only four pounds at full term. I barely saw him for the first two weeks of his life."

"Oh," Mrs. Lupin answered, bringing her hand to her mouth, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. James pulled through and now he's a father of a perfect and healthy baby boy of his own."

"I wonder how Sirius was delivered," Mrs. Pettigrew remarked. We all looked at Sirius but he was staring out the window, not paying attention.

"Sirius?" I said, trying to catch his attention. He jumped and turned his head to face the room in confusion. "Did Clarissa ever tell you about your birth?"

"Oh, my mum went into labor while she was delivering a presentation about some constellation. I was born slightly ahead of schedule. Aunt Clarissa had a blast though, she thought my birth was fun. She was twelve at the time so she remembered it pretty well." He shrugged to say that that was all he knew.

"Speaking of babies," Lily said, "what are we going to name him?"

"Well, I was thinking of naming him after my father, Harold, and James for his middle name," I answered brightly. Everyone seemed to like this except my mother. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think you should name your son after your father. It'll make him feel like a replacement, that's all." My mother frowned and added, "I would feel uncomfortable if he was named Harold. I was married to your father for so long, Harold means your father to me. I don't know if I would ever get used to it. I like the middle name though."

There was a long silence until Lily suggested, "How about Harry instead? It's from Harold but it's not actually Harold. How about that?"

We mulled it over. "Harry James Potter," Remus stated.

"Doesn't sound bad," Peter commented.

"Sirius, what do you think of Harry?" Remus asked. Sirius didn't look away from the window but answered, "Who's Harry?"

"The baby, silly," Mrs. Pettigrew replied. "What do you think of the name?"

"Sounds fine to me."

"I think that would be fine," my mother answered. I nodded.

"Then Harry James Potter it is," Lily concluded proudly.

"Oh, dear," my mother gasped slightly, "look at the top of his head." Pulling the cloth slightly back, I saw what my mother had noticed. His entire head was covered in thick, black tufts of hair much like mine.

"Oh no," I muttered, "the charm worked through my gene pool. He's charmed as well now."

"It'll probably take generations to weed it out," my mother grumbled.

"His eyes are blue. Lily, is there something you're not telling me?" I joked.

"All babies' eyes are blue. It'll change, I promise," Lily replied good-naturedly.

"It better."

"What colour eyes will it have, do you think?" Mrs. Pettigrew asked.

"Well, his choices are grey, brown, and hazel from our side of the family," my mother answered.

"And green and grey from my side. No blues on either side, I think," Lily replied.

"Let's just hope he doesn't need glasses like I do," I sighed, "stupid little pieces of glass."

For over an hour, we discussed the baby and our plans for the future and slowly, one by one, the well-wishers left, leaving Lily, Sirius, and me behind with the baby. "You probably have things to do today," Lily said.

"We do, unfortunately. No time like the present, huh?" I remarked.

"I just want to relax for awhile, no offense but I'm still worn out."

"None taken. I'll visit tomorrow, is that alright?"

"Perfect."

I gave her and Harry a kiss before calling out to Sirius, "Come on, we have a room to arrange and you have a date to keep." Sirius muttered something to himself but got up and followed me out the door.

"Congratulations, you two," he said to Lily and Harry as he walked out.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Because this is nineteenth chapter, this is the longest fic I've ever written! It's beaten "Inner Child" which is finished at 18 chapters! I loved writing that dream sequence. I have been planning that dream for a very long time and now I finally got to write it in a chapter, yay! I'm so glad I finally have Harry born and named because I was sick of trying to get around his name and gender! I mean, we all knew who the baby was going to be! Originally, I planned Mr. Pettigrew to just be dead but I added the whole running away and faking his own death just to be funny. Yes, it's supposed to be funny, not scary. I need reviews! I need them very much! I want reviews! Please press the review button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com with comments and questions! See ya later!