That morning, the game of choice was word association.

This was baby Harry Potter's new favourite pastime. Ever since his baby brain had trained his throat and mouth to make sounds that his father would recognise and understand - for his mother had always known which bits of his babble meant feed me, or change my nappy or put Thomas the Tank Engine Back On Right Now Or I'll Scream Down Godric's Hollow! - this was the only thing that would entertain him.

Though James Potter was extremely glad that it was ... for now he could train his son to be part of one of the most complex rituals ever designed by a witch and wizard.

And time was running out. As Halloween approached, James knew that he had to complete his infant son's conditioning before the Thirty-First. If he didn't, then all hope would be lost, and any chance he and Lily had of saving their son's life in the future would be lost with it. If James got this wrong, then the knowledge he had unearthed - regarding Tom Riddle enduring beyond the destruction of his final Horcrux - would die with him in three weeks time.

Then James would once again have to watch his son marry the very vessel that protected the Spirit of Voldemort, and the Dark Arts that would allow her to turn Harry Potter into her own personal slave.

James was determined not to let it come to that. Albus Dumbledore had provided him with the idea, the work around that would allow James and Lily's resurrection after sixteen years of rest inside Harry's wand ... and the enchanted feather blanket that would keep them warm all that time. He also gave James the best news yet, that he had finally discovered the way to protect Harry's eternal soul ... to slow him up when he was tempted by the rapids of lust.

Her name is Hermione.

It was a simple note. James still hadn't told Lily about it, about the girl whose love was the antidote to the Dark Entrapments that nothing could prevent Harry from falling prey to. James wondered what his wife would say when he did, when he passed on the secret that he knew the name of their future daughter-in-law. Lily wouldn't be happy about being kept in the dark for sure, but she'd soon forgive him when he told her the alternative.

That if they didn't get involved, their son would end up with a Cursed Child for his bride.

So James had to content himself with the knowledge that Dumbledore's plan would work, that Harry would grow to be humble and modest, and that the old mage himself would shape Harry as best he could, until his parents could return to finish the job.

It was a risky strategy, one that could go wrong in a thousand ways, but for now it was the best they could do.

Lily knew some pieces of it, of course. She knew, and had cried a million tears over, the fact that she and James had to die on Halloween. Ever since Dumbledore had told them of the Prophecy he'd heard, and his subsequent research into the fine details of it, this cold truth had become etched into Lily's brain. They had to die, to protect Harry from a mortal enemy, only to return at the opportune moment and save him from a far greater threat. They would watch his life from the core of his wand, which Dumbledore would ensure ended up in Harry's hands. It wasn't how Lily had pictured motherhood, but at least she'd be close by and able to protect Harry when his need was greatest.

Then came James' job at the Department of Mysteries, the theft of the most powerful Time devices housed there, and the confirmation of all their worst fears. Voldemort would target their son - sending his generals to deal with the Longbottoms as an insurance policy, which chilled Lily as she considered her best friend Alice's fate - and the circle would be complete. It was a circle started in the future, when Harry cast Expelliarmus at Tom Riddle for the third time, and defeated him again. It would become his signature spell - and the only effective defence against The Killing Curse in the history of magic.

And it would save his life ... when Voldemort tried to murder him on Halloween.

This was the part that Lily didn't understand, and that Dumbledore lacked the language to explain. This solution had come from the future, he'd said, but his language was allegorical and full of more riddles than Voldemort himself.

"Everything that happens, Lily, in the past and in the future, arises from the past, and only by understanding the past, can we make our way in the future."

Lily was baffled by that. But James seemed to know more about it. He was holding something back from her, but she knew better than to push him on it. They didn't keep secrets from each other, it was one of the enchanted promises they'd made at their wedding. So, if he wasn't telling her something, she knew the secrecy itself was important, and that she'd know whatever it was when she needed to.

Which is why the scene which greeted her on entering her house that morning didn't surprise her. James and Harry were playing word association again. Sat facing each other cross-legged in front of the fireplace, James would say a word, then Harry would titter out the correct response as he gave his father a clumsy high-5. They must have been at it a while, Lily reasoned, for James was already at the sing-song stage.

"Avada Kedavra!" James chimed. "Expelliarmus! Avada Kedavra - Expelliarmus! Avada Kedavra ..."

James urged Harry to finish the song.

"Essel-er-are-mus," Harry tried, causing Lily's heart to melt at his cuteness as she watched from the doorway.

"Almost," James grinned encouragingly. "Try again ... Expelliarmus!"

"Expel Earmuffs!" Harry giggled. Then he looked up. "Mama!"

Harry clambered up onto his stubby little legs before padding over to Lily, who scooped him up and snuggled him close.

"He's getting better," James grinned as he turned to look at his wife and son.

"We'll get him there," Lily replied confidently. "Three weeks is plenty for this little learning machine. Mind you, I should have asked for some parenting directions from the people who are buying Mum and Dad's old house. They know a thing or two about talkative children."

James offered Lily a weak smile. He didn't want to give her pity, knowing how much she hated him doing so. It hadn't been six months since her mother had passed away, but they had chosen to sell Lily's childhood home to provide a nice little trust fund for Harry while they still had time. They had bought Petunia out of the inheritance as an unseen present to Harry on his first birthday back in July. It pained her to sever the link with her youth, James could see that, but Lily was the strongest person he knew and abhorred anything that might have been construed as weakness in her character.

"They do?" James queried.

Lily nodded. "And you'll never guess who it is. It was the most bizarre thing."

"I'm listening," James encouraged. "I'll just stick the kettle on. I'm sure you fancy a cuppa."

"Always," Lily grinned, sitting on the couch and bouncing baby Harry in her lap. He gurgled happily and tried again to say Expelliarmus properly, to impress his Mum.

"So, who's buying the place?"

"Well do you remember the old couple next door, Mr and Mrs Granger?" Lily began. "Well, the husband passed away about the same time as Mum, and the old dear can't really look after herself anymore. So her son bought my old place so he can keep an eye on her. I haven't seen David since we were kids. It was the weirdest coincidence."

"Old boyfriend, eh?" James teased, as he took teabags from the kitchen cupboard.

"Funnily enough he was my first kiss," Lily mused playfully. "And a big, sloppy one it was, too!"

"Should I be jealous?"

"Maybe. I was about seven at the time. And I was the one who kissed him. I never have been backwards about coming forwards, as you know. So you'll have to decide if you have a love rival there!"

"I knew I was practising Avada Kedavra for a reason!" James quirked. Then he narrowed his eyes seriously. "So, this David ... is he single?"

Lily hooted out a laugh. "No, he's happily married. I met his wife, Catrin, and their little girl. She's only about Harry's age, maybe a bit older, but she's so talkative. I had a full on conversation with her. Chats at about a million miles an hour, but she's bright as a button. Cute little thing, too. Masses of hair. I'd have loved a go at braiding that. Not only that, but she was dripping in magic. I could tell. I didn't say anything to David, obviously, but they have a little witch on their hands there. I'd bet my racing broom that she's already on one of Minerva's lists somewhere!"

James chuckled heartily. "And did she have a name?"

"Oh yes," Lily smiled, as James placed a mug of tea in front of her. "Hermione Jane Granger. It seemed to be very important to her that I remembered her middle name, so she told it to me about a dozen times. What? What is it? ... Why have you gone so pale?"

James swallowed hard as he processed the news. His mind was focused solely on the little note hidden at the bottom of his sock drawer upstairs.

Her name is Hermione.

"Hermione ... you're absolutely certain that was her name?" James asked sheepishly

"Yes, I was only speaking to her an hour ago. Why? What's so special about that name?"

"Oh ... nothing much," James replied nervously. "Apart from it being the name of our future daughter-in-law, obviously."