(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)

The Healer's office was cold, and made of white tile. It smelled of potions, and James was sorely remembered of Professor Snorks on the first day of school. They were waiting, Lily was quietly sitting next to him, fidgetting with her long hair. She looked scared. They didn't know why the Healers had called them back to talk to them. They had only been here a week before, and now they had returned for some unknown reason.
"Do you think everything's all right?" Lily asked nervously, as James's foot tapped the tile below. There was tile above. And tile on the walls. What sort of person had tile on the walls?
"I'm sure it is," James said, taking her hand, "It's probably perfectly fine."
"But then why did they call us back?" Lily said, her voice cracking, "Only if something was truly wrong . . ."

"They would have told us before calling us here," James said, "It's probably just some sort of testing they have to do."
Lily didn't answer, and let out a deep rattling breath. She hated this. What was going on in her stomach? What was the matter? Was it all right? Was the baby all right?
Had she done something wrong? Had she been a bad mother? Had she messed up her baby before it was even born? She hadn't drunk anything alcoholic, not even at the party. And she didn't smoke. She hadn't fallen. What had happened?
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter?"
James and Lily looked up, and saw their Healer standing in the doorway, smiling. Okay, good. She was smiling. That was a good sign. The Healer was smiling. Nothing could be wrong then.
"Follow me, please," she said. She was a smaller woman, very skinny and hardly any fat on her at all. Her white coat seemed gigantic on her. But her bright face smiled up at the two as they entered the back room where an examination table was set up for Lily. Lily sat on it, and James stood next to her, holding her hand. They were both so nervous.
The Healer took her own seat across from them on a chair, and pulled out her charts. She then brandished a quill and started to write in some of the worst handwriting that either of them had seen.
"James and Lily Potter, am I right?" she asked.
"Yes," James said bravely.
"Well, we have good news for you," the Healer said, and smiled warmly again, "We can tell you what sex your child is. If you would like to know."
"You can tell this early?" Lily asked.
"You can tell at all?" James added.
"We have charms that allow us to create an illusion of your child before he or she is born. In case you are curious in who's eyes they received, what sort of color hair they have, or what gender they are," the Healer continued, "We can create this illusion for you if you wish."
James and Lily stared at her, and then to each other, "Is this what this whole thing's about?" Lily asked frantically.
"Yes," the Healer said, "We thought you may want to take advantage of the charms. They are fairly new . . ."
"Of course!" James said, "Of course we will!"
"Would you like to know the sex before seeing it?" she asked.
Lily nodded, and James followed her lead, "Sure."
"It's a boy," the Healer said, and then her smile returned, "Congratulations," she added, and then left the room.
Lily and James looked at each other in pure joy. James was smiling so broadly. He was going to have a boy! A boy!
"I can't believe it," Lily said, "Everything's all right. Everything's going to be all right."

"And it's a boy!" James said, hugging her. She laughed, and returned the embrace.
"Harry, then," Lily whispered happily in his ear, "Harry Potter?"
James stopped, and then solemnly nodded, letting her go, "Yeah," he said, "Harry Potter."
"Harry James Potter?"
"Yeah," James smiled widely, and the Healer re-entered the room, holding her wand out.
"All right, here we go," the Healer said, and pointed the wand to the floor in front of them. Lily and James were still in each other's arms as the small woman said a few words, flicking her wrist, and soon, there was a glow of light from where she had directed the spell.
The light magically grew, and quickly began multiplying in front of their eyes. The lights danced around, finding their places in the figure that was now appearing, and James found himself staring at the boy in front of him, his mouth wider than Sirius's had been.
In the glowing of the light, stood a boy identical to him. His hair fell messily into his face, and his nose was a little different. And the boy was a little younger, and shorter . . . but other than that . . . it was James.
Lily gasped, and gripped James's hand, "It's him!" she whispered, "It's our son!"
"It's me," he said.
But then, he looked at the eyes. They were Lily's. Someone had taken her eyes and plastered them over his hazel ones. Those emerald green eyes peered out from behind the messy hair as the boy smiled at them happily. He had Lily's smile. His mischevious and arrogant way of standing. He was thin, and would make a great Quidditch player.
And James would be there at every one of his games. He would make sure of it. He would be there, cheering him on. And during off-season, during the summer when his son was home, he'd teach him all of the how-tos of flying. He would be the best player of them all. Even better than James.
It was Harry. This happy, healthy, and smiling boy in front of them. It was Harry that they would grow to love and know. And James would always be there for him. And he would treat him like he did Sirius and Remus and Peter.
God, his son would love his friends. They were going to teach him everything about the world. About what mistakes not to make, and which ones to make. Where the entrances to Hogsmeade and the castle were. And at night, James would curl up by the fire with Lily and tell their son all about how they had met, about how they had fought Voldemort first hand, and their son would love them.
They would be a family.
"Now this is only a composite outline of him," the Healer explained, "It does not include any glasses, hearing devices, injuries that he may obtain while living. But a blueprint, if you will," she grinned at James, "He looks very much like you, Mr. Potter."

"But he has his mother's eyes," James said in awe, and Lily could be seen with one tear rolling down her face. It was her son.
She would cook him breakfast in the morning. She would teach him everything that there was to know about life. She would be there to protect him. No matter what.
And then slowly, the lights disappeared, and the boy named Harry was gone. James and Lily were let out of the back room, and set free into the tile waiting room again.
But James could still see that face of Harry in front of him. It was his. It was his son. That boy was his son.
And he was a father.

Sirius barged into the house, without saying a word to Lily, who tried to take his coat at the front door. His entire head was sopping wet, and he had a burn mark on his good cloak.
"WHERE IS HE!?" he roared, and Lily pointed a finger up the stairs. Sirius didn't hesitate.
He charged up the staircase, jumping four at a time, until he reached the second landing.
"JAMES!" he barked, and James could be heard coming out into the hallway.
"What?" he asked, "What's wrong?"
Lily sighed, and shut the door quietly as she heard the two men's voices from upstairs.
"THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!" Sirius's tone rang through the walls, "THEY SHOWED ME WHAT THEY'RE GOING TO DO! THEY TRIED TO DROWN ME!"
"They are not going to try to drown you!"
"Were you there? No! So how would you know? You wouldn't!"
"I've been baptised, Sirius, and it isn't a major operation," James argued, "They're just going to baptise you, Padfoot. They were drowning . . ."
"I knew I didn't like church for a reason. The one time that I give it a chance, I get burned, and . . ."
"How did you get burned?"
"That clown in the robes made me trip into a candelabra, and . . ."
Lily groaned, and walked into the kitchen so she couldn't hear the bantering of Sirius Black. She shut the door to drone out the noise, and it worked quite efficiently. The kitchen was silent, and perfectly clean. Just what she needed.
The eyes of Harry had been the same as hers. It was truly her son. And he was beautiful. He looked so much like James. They could have been brothers.
She closed her eyes, and smiled to herself. She was a mother. It hit her head on now. She was a mother to a beautiful son. And wife to a beautiful man. After the war was over, life would be beautiful as well, and everything would be . . . perfect.
She hugged herself, and tried to listen to the heartbeat of the child inside of her. Maybe if she listened close enough, she could make it out.
The doorbell rang, and her eyes snapped open. The shouting of the two upstairs continued, and she was left to answer the visitor's calling. She sighed, pulled her hair out of her face, and opened the door to walk into the parlor.
The doorbell rang again, and she shouted, "Just a minute! I'm coming!"
And what a surprise it was when she opened the oak door to reveal Frank Longbottom, along with Marlene and Alice. Peter was behind them, looking very shaken.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"We need assistance immediately," Frank said, "Is James home?"

"Yes, him and Sirius are upstairs," Lily said, "Are we being called in?"
"Yeah," Marlene said, her face excited, "We've got some Death Eaters cornered. Crouch wants us all down there now."
Sirius and James had stopped shouting, and were now on the steps behind Lily. Without saying another word, they grabbed their cloaks, and rushed past Lily.
Lily made to go, but James pushed her back, and shook his head, "No, Lily. Remember Harry. You can't go. It's too dangerous."
Lily glared, and then looked to Alice for support. None came, and therefore she reluctantly retreated back into the house, shutting the door behind Sirius and James.
"Love you!" James said through the door, and Lily nodded.
"I know," she whispered to herself, and her eyes trailed over to the table where her wand was sitting.
She was not a house wife.
She was a soldier.