A/N: Okay, first I have to give a shout-out to my hometown of Pittsburgh. In the first scene, Harry uses "pitcher" to say "picture." That is totally commonly accepted speech where I live! Although I don't use it, plenty of people do.

Next . . . Despite the title, this is not the last chapter. There are several more to follow. I should have the next one done soon.

Fair warning: I made myself cry with this chapter. It's a tough one. Thanks for reading and reviewing . . . I hope you like the way I've handled this!

I don't own Harry Potter, and I really don't own Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Some dialogue in the final scene of the chapter is taken from pages 179 and 240 of the American hardback edition. All credit is given to JK Rowling, her publishers, and anyone else who has ownership of the words.

The Final Confrontation

"Okay, Harry, what would you like for dinner tonight? Chicken or beef?" Lily asked, as she stood in the kitchen, trying to decide what to cook.

"Beef!" Harry replied confidently.

"All right, then, beef it is," Lily smiled. She kissed the top of the baby's head as she passed the table where he was sitting in his booster seat to color. "Thank you for helping me decide what to make."

"Welcome," he replied cheerfully, not looking up from his drawing.

"What are you making?" she asked, looking down at the picture.

"Pitcher," he said, still coloring.

"Yes, I can see that. Is that Daddy?" she asked, referring to the blob of color that seemed to have the most black at the top of it.

"Yes."

"And is this Mummy?" she asked, now pointing to the red-topped patch of color.

"Yes," he said again. "Harry here."

"I see you," she smiled, looking at the smallest blob, which was also topped with a great deal of black. "You're a very good artist, Harry."

He smiled. "I love you, Mummy."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," she said, kissing him again. "I'm going to go make dinner now, okay? I'll be right here in the kitchen with you."

"'Kay."

James came in from the attic, where he had been storing boxes of the toys and clothes that Harry had outgrown. He smiled, noting that both Harry and Lily were absorbed in their work; neither had noticed him walk into the room. He came up behind Lily, and put his arms around her. She screamed and jumped in alarm. Harry jumped at the sound of his mother's scream, knocking his crayons all over the floor.

"James!" Lily yelled, whirling around to face him. "What are you doing?"

"Scaring you," he grinned. He kissed her cheek. "Hello, darling."

"Don't give me that," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced at Harry, and saw the spilled crayons around him. She waved her wand to recollect them onto the table.

"Thanks!" Harry called.

"You're welcome, Harry," she replied. She looked at James with annoyance. "Is there any particular reason you wanted to scare me to death?"

"I never said I wanted to scare you to death," he replied. "And if that was my goal, I'd say I've done a pretty poor job of it. You still look quite alive to me."

"Alive enough for this," she said, snapping the towel she was holding at him.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed as she hit him. "That hurt!"

"Serves you right. Never scare a person with a towel in her hands if she grew up with siblings. I guarantee she's had towel-snapping battles."

Now it was James's turn to roll his eyes. "Everything's stored upstairs," he said by way of changing the topic.

"Good." She smiled. "If your mother has her way, we'll be dragging it down again before too long."

"She does want another grandchild, doesn't she?"

"She's been hinting a bit."

"You'd think she'd be happy with Harry. She was happy enough just to have me as a child."

Lily rolled her eyes again. "Don't go getting too full of yourself, now, Potter. She was quite eager to adopt Sirius and I, wasn't she?"

James made a face at her. "Shut it."

Lily laughed, and kissed his cheek. "You know I love you."

"And I love you," he replied. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Something that involves beef."

"Beef?"

"Harry's choice," she smiled. "I just haven't decided what to do with it yet."

"I'll take the hint to get out of your way," James laughed. He crossed to sit down at the table with his son. "Hey, Harry. What are you making?"

"Pitcher," Harry said without looking up at his father.

Lily smiled at her two boys, and returned to her cooking.

In the days following James and Lily going into hiding, Sirius took his promise to protect Peter very seriously. He felt a great deal of responsibility for Peter's well-being after giving up the post of Secret Keeper and essentially forcing him to take on the job. Peter had not wanted to do it, but had chosen to agree for the sake of their shared friends. Sirius knew that it would be very poor repayment for Peter's selflessness if he now gave up on his own assurances to make sure that Peter remained safe.

And so, during his office shift with Olivia, he kept looking at his watch. He had arranged to check on Peter that evening, and wanted to be sure that he was on time for their appointment. After he looked at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, Olivia threw down her quill.

"Honestly, Sirius, is there somewhere you'd rather be?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to look at innocent as possible.

"You've looked at your watch about a hundred times since we got here. Do you have some hot date I should know about?"

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, her name is Trixie, and she's a blond bombshell from the United States. You know what they say about those American girls . . ."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Right. I totally believe you."

"What? You don't think Trixie the American blond bombshell would want me?"

She gave him a seductive grin. "You've got your own blond bombshell right here."

Sirius grinned. "Don't try to seduce me at work, Alexander. You know how little self-control I have, and there's an unreasonably high possibility that your brother could walk in on us."

Olivia laughed. "Seriously, what's with the obsession with the time?"

"I have an appointment with Peter," Sirius confessed.

"An appointment with Peter? Since when did he become a member of the Wizengamot? Last time I checked, you didn't need to set a time to meet with him."

"You know how his work schedule has been recently. This is the only time we can get together, and we need to go over some stuff for the wedding – like whether or not he's going to be in it."

"Sirius!" she exclaimed. "You haven't asked him yet?"

"I've had a lot on my mind!" Sirius said defensively.

"Go!" Olivia said, waving her hand toward the door. "Go ask him now! For goodness sake, Sirius, you procrastinate more than I do!"

Sirius laughed as he got to his feet. "That's high praise coming from you." He crossed the room and bent down to kiss her. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll cover for you if Moody needs us."

"Thanks," Sirius replied. He took his keys out of his pocket. "I'm going to ride my bike over."

"Wouldn't it be faster to Apparate?"

"It would . . . but then I'd be back at work sooner."

Olivia rolled her eyes again. "You are horrible."

"And you love it."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her again, then left the office, closing the door behind him.

That had been easier than he had thought. Now he just had to get over to Peter's, make sure everything was fine, and get back to work before anyone noticed that he was gone.

Sirius had only been gone for three minutes when Moody banged into their office. Olivia glanced up from her paperwork before greeting her visitor; a lucky chain of events, as her intention had been to mock Sirius for coming back so quickly.

"Moody," she said instead, trying to keep any guilt from her face. "Problems?"

"Yes," he said, looking uncharacteristically disturbed. "Where's Sirius?"

"Around somewhere," Olivia said vaguely. "I don't think he said exactly where he was going."

"Damn. I wanted to tell you together. Well, I'll let you know now, and then you tell him as soon as he sets foot in this office."

"What's going on?" Olivia asked, beginning to feel her nerves shake. Moody was never so dire in his instructions. "Did something happen to James and Lily?"

"No – not yet. But Margaret Potter has been attacked."

"What?" Olivia exclaimed, extremely glad she was sitting down. She grabbed the arms of her chair. "What happened? Is she all right?"

"No, Olivia, she's not," Moody said, sitting down in the open chair across her desk. "She's dead. She was hit with the Killing Curse."

All the color drained from Olivia's face as she gave a cry of pain. "Does James know?"

"No. That's why we need Sirius; we need to be able to tell him. No one can get a message to the boy without Sirius telling them where to find him."

"He's their Secret Keeper . . ." Olivia muttered. "Is that why they went for Mrs. Potter? They thought she was the Secret Keeper?"

"We think so," Moody replied. "Both she and her house-elf were killed. We think that Voldemort himself may have been involved. They were very clean murders – almost too clean for a regular Death Eater."

"Where is she . . . her body . . . now?"

"Still at the house. The entire area is being treated as a crime scene. We have quite a few Aurors there."

"Can I go?"

"You want to see that?"

"I – I don't want to, but I need to."

Moody nodded. "Go, then. And take Black with you, if you can find him. Tell him that it's his responsibility to tell James and Lily what's happened."

"I will," Olivia replied.

Moody nodded again, and left the office. Olivia waited half a second, then pulled her summoning globe from her pocket, tapping it with her wand. She had to get Sirius to Mrs. Potter's house. She had to be the one to tell him that his surrogate mother was gone. She couldn't let him hear it from someone else.

Sirius was nearly to Peter's house when he felt the globe in his pocket grow warm and vibrate. He pulled it out and looked at it distractedly, trying to make sure that he didn't crash his motorbike. When he saw the address scrolling across it, followed by the message "urgent," he nearly dropped it. Putting the globe safely back into his pocket, he veered right to change his course. He could keep Peter waiting. Mrs. Potter needed him far more.

He raced to the house he had spent so many hours in with his heart pounding. He didn't have any details or any idea of what to expect. He had to get there. He had to know that James's mother was okay.

"She's fine," he told himself over and over. "She's okay. She has to be. Harry needs his grandma. James needs his mother. I need . . . She's going to be fine."

Even though he was certain that Mrs. Potter was fine, he accelerated. He had to get there. He had to see her, to know for himself what had happened to merit an urgent summons.

Peter was bored. He had exhausted almost every diversion he had in his small, new home. All that were left were the shelves of books, and he was not in the mood to sit quietly and read. He wanted to be out somewhere, doing something. He was actually starting to miss work.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight o'clock, the time that Sirius had promised to be there. He smiled slightly. At least Sirius's visit would provide a break from the monotony. Maybe he would stay and chat for awhile. He had every other time he had come to visit.

The burning pain in his arm caught him off-guard. He grabbed it instinctively as the order to Apparate to Voldemort's office filled his mind. What could the Dark Lord want with him? He had given a report less than a week ago, and had not been given any new assignments since then. Why would he want to see him again so soon? Not unless . . .

"No," he whispered, his eyes growing wide with fear. "He can't know. Not yet. Not so soon."

Staying home worrying wasn't going to get him any answers to any questions. He Disapparated before he had time to change his mind.

"Okay, Harry, you've learned a little bit about each element of the game, but it's time to put them all together. Listen, here's how it works," James said, taking out all the toy Quidditch equipment he had collected for Harry.

Harry sat down on the floor next to James, providing him a rapt audience. The baby loved to play with his Quidditch toys with his daddy. Lily, who was lying on the couch reading the Daily Prophet, lowered her paper to watch the interaction between her husband and son. James lifted the red Quaffle from the floor.

"You know what this is, right?"

"Kaffle!" Harry said enthusiastically.

"Right, the Quaffle," James replied. "We've talked about this before, I know. We said that we have to throw it, remember? Well, the people on the team who throw it are called the Chasers. There are three Chasers on the team, and they toss the Quaffle to one another and try to score with it. To score, they throw it through one of these." He paused to pick up Harry's toy goal post, and put the ball through it. "See, if I had thrown this through without the Keeper stopping it, I would have won ten points for my team."

"Daddy was a Chaser at Hogwarts," Lily said.

"Daddy – Chaser?" Harry said, his eyes wide.

"Yes, he was a Chaser for the Gryffindor team," Lily elaborated. "He and Auntie Olivia were two of the best Chasers Gryffindor ever had."

"Daddy best!" Harry enthused.

"Daddy likes Quidditch a lot, and Daddy would like it if we could continue," James laughed. "I was very, very good, Harry, but there were definitely players who were better than me."

"Did I just hear some modesty?" Lily asked, clapping her hands to her chest in mock shock. "I must be hallucinating!"

James laughed, and threw the Quaffle at her. She caught it, and threw it back.

"See that, Harry?" he asked. "That's what the Chasers do with the Quaffle. They toss it around just like that!"

"I thought we were using it as a weapon?" Lily laughed.

"Teachable moment, Lil," James laughed. He shook his head, and picked up the toy Snitch. "What's this?" he asked as he tapped it with his wand.

"Stitch!" Harry replied, reaching for it.

"Wait, wait," James said gently. "The Seeker has to find this to end the game and win his or her team extra points."

"Stitch, stitch!" Harry cried, straining to take the ball from James's hands.

"Okay, okay, I see that you want to play," James laughed. He released the Snitch, letting it zoom around. "Okay, try to get it!"

Harry looked for a moment, then grabbed it as it zoomed past his head. He chuckled as he looked at the ball in his hands, then released it, letting it fly around again. He began to chase it around the room, catching and releasing it over and over.

"He loves that thing," Lily smiled.

"He does, doesn't he?" James agreed with a grin. "I should have held it for last. We didn't get to go over Bludgers."

Lily laughed. "Well, there's a tragedy."

James grinned, and watched his son for a moment. "I'll bet he'll be a great Seeker."

"Ah, for Gryffindor, right?"

"Naturally," James grinned. "And Sirius and Olivia will have children soon; theirs will be the Beaters."

"Not the Chasers?"

James laughed. "I'm sure that any child of Sirius's would be better suited to be a Beater."

Lily laughed with him, then sat up quickly as Harry nearly fell into an end table. "Keep an eye on him if you're going to let him do that, James."

Harry had righted himself and was chasing the Snitch again. James turned from Lily to watch him more closely.

"He'll be fine," James said soothingly. "All the best Seekers took a few knocks chasing their toy Snitches as babies."

Lily shook her head, and hit him with her paper. "What if he turns out to be completely uncoordinated? It's possible, you know – I am his mother."

James pretended to think for a moment, then laughed. "I'll love him just as much as I do now – just like I love you."

Peter was shaking as he was escorted into Voldemort's office. He clasped his hands together in an effort to hide how much they were trembling.

"You wanted to see me, my Lord?"

"Yes, Peter," Voldemort said, sitting up straight in his chair. "It has come to my attention that you have been withholding information from me yet again."

"In-information, my Lord?" Peter stammered.

"Yes, vital information," Voldemort said softly, his voice quite controlled. "You neglected to tell me that the Potters had gone into hiding using the Fidelius Charm. You further neglected your duties by not revealing the identity of their Secret Keeper."

"I – I d-don't know what . . ."

"You know very well what I'm talking about," Voldemort hissed, leaning forward. "You will tell me how I can find the Potters, Pettigrew, and you will tell me right now."

"My Lord, I . . ."

"Have I not made this perfectly clear in the past, Peter?" Voldemort asked, picking up his wand. "Have I not told you repeatedly that any lapse in your performance will mean problems for you? Have I not explained all that I am capable of?"

"No, my Lord, I know what you can do," Peter said quickly, his shaking becoming more pronounced. "It's just . . ."

"Are you worried about your friends at last, Peter?" Voldemort said with a laugh. "You have been giving me information about them for over a year, yet now, when they are in hiding, you suddenly become reluctant to share your knowledge? Why is that, I wonder?"

Peter tried desperately to look away before it was too late, but was not fast enough. Voldemort dove into his mind, searching for information.

"Peter, you have withheld more than I ever dreamed," Voldemort hissed, his eyes shining with an odd combination of fury and excitement. "You never thought to tell me that you are their Secret Keeper."

"My Lord, please . . ."

"Tell me where to find them, Peter."

"Please . . ." Peter begged again.

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Yes, Peter, this is the point that we have come to. You finally have the information that will allow me to destroy Harry Potter, yet you seem to have recently developed a conscience. Well, well, this will never do. Perhaps you need a bit of persuasion. Crucio."

Peter fell to the floor, shrieking in pain. He just wanted it to be over, he wanted the pain to end. He would do anything . . .

"Please," he gasped, shrieking again. "Please, make it stop! Please!"

"It will end when you are ready to talk," Voldemort hissed furiously.

Peter shrieked again. "Please!"

"You know," Voldemort said, never removing his wand from Peter, "people have been known to go mad from over-exposure to this very curse. If you force me to continue on with this, you may become insane. Or, beyond insanity, it may kill you. But if you are prepared to sacrifice yourself for your friends like that, by all means, continue to bear the pain. How very noble of you."

"Please!" Peter shrieked. "Please, I'll tell you . . . I'll do anything . . . don't kill me! Please, make it stop!"

Voldemort instantly ended the curse. Peter lay facedown on the floor, crying and shaking from the pain he had endured. Voldemort smiled at him.

"You always have to make things so difficult, Peter. I am beginning to think you have a weakness for dramatics. Very well, the curse has been lifted. Tell me where I can find the Potters."

Still shaking, Peter pushed himself up so that he could look at the Dark Lord. He rattled off the Potters' address, watching the excited smile that lit his master's features when he had finished.

"Thank you, Peter," Voldemort said, standing up and sweeping his wand into his pocket. "You are free to go. I have a murder to commit."

The Dark Lord Disapparated, leaving Peter alone on his office floor. His arms, which were still shaking uncontrollably, collapsed. Peter fell on his face again. He took deep breaths for a moment as the events of the previous fifteen minutes took their toll on his mind.

"My God," he whispered. "I've done it. I've destroyed James and Lily. I've destroyed Harry. I've destroyed . . . so much."

He finally managed to bring himself up again, eventually pulling himself into a standing position. He was still trying to work through all that he had done as moved to the door. As he stumbled out of the Dark Lord's office, he only had one coherent thought, a thought he hadn't had in so long . . . possibly never before in his life . . .

My father would be so proud.

An intense feeling of foreboding filled Sirius as he approached Mrs. Potter's house. Swarms of Aurors surrounded the place, talking seriously to one another. But, despite all the Aurors, he couldn't find the one woman he needed to see. He landed his bike, and took off toward the house at a run.

"Mrs. Potter?" he called. "Are you here?"

"Sirius!"

He turned to see Olivia running toward him. For the first time, he was disappointed to see her. "I thought you were James's mum," he said, smiling slightly. "Were you the one to call me here, then?"

"Yes," she said tensely. "Moody came in right after you had left. Sirius, there's something you need to know –"

"Have you seen Mrs. Potter?" Sirius asked. "I got really worried when I got your message. I just want to make sure she's all right before we go do whatever Moody wants us to do."

"Sirius . . ." Olivia trailed off, and took a deep breath. She took his hands in hers. "There's something you need to know."

"What is it?" he asked, frightened by the sorrow in her eyes and voice. "What's going on, Liv?"

"Sirius, Mrs. Potter is . . . she's gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone?'" Sirius asked. "She wasn't here when this happened?"

"No, Sirius, I mean she was hit with the Killing Curse. I mean she's gone."

Sirius sucked in his breath quickly, and bit his lower lip. He blinked rapidly. "No," he said softly. "No, Liv, she can't be gone. James needs his mother. I need her. She can't have just . . . died."

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Olivia said, a tear shaking loose from her eye and making its was down her cheek. "I know you loved her like she was your mother, too, but she's . . . there's nothing we can do anymore."

"Is she here?" Sirius asked, choking the words past the lump that was forming in his throat.

"Yes, she's still in the kitchen, where they found her."

"I need to see her."

"I know. I'll come with you."

They walked around to the back of the house hand-in-hand. The kitchen door was open, and several Aurors were in the room, examining the scene as they tried to recreate the crime.

"Can you give us a minute?" Olivia asked as she and Sirius approached.

"Sure," one of them said, standing up straight. "We could use a break. Let us know when you're done."

After the others had left, Sirius and Olivia moved forward. Sirius stopped short as his eyes fell on Hetty's silent form just inside the door.

"My God," he muttered. "They killed Hetty, too?"

Olivia nodded silently, squeezing his hand gently.

Sirius continued forward, dragging Olivia with him. He stopped beside Mrs. Potter's body, and dropped Olivia's hand to kneel down next to her.

"How could this have happened?" he asked, the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at the still body of the closest thing to a loving mother he had ever known. "We all love you so much, we all need you so much . . ."

"Do you want me to go?" Olivia asked uneasily.

"No, please stay," Sirius said without looking up. He buried his face in his hands as the sobs shook his body. It was really true. She was really gone.

Olivia came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. He leaned back against her, still trying to control his tears. He had never imagined that it would be so hard to see Mrs. Potter like this – but he had also never dreamed that he would see her like this.

After several moments, he managed to stop crying. He wiped his hands across his face to remove the traces of his tears, and looked down at Mrs. Potter again.

"Why would they go after her? What good would it do? She was a pure-blood; she didn't have any information they needed . . ."

"Moody said they think that it was Voldemort, not a Death Eater," Olivia provided.

"Voldemort?" Sirius asked, looking up at her. "Why would he want to kill her?"

"They think that he thought that she was James and Lily's Secret Keeper," she said softly.

"But how – why would they think that?" Sirius asked, frowning deeply. "They were supposed to think that it was me. That was the plan. If everyone thought that it was me, she'd be safe."

"How would they know it was you, Sirius?" Olivia asked shakily. "You only told us – me, Remus, Peter, Dumbledore and Mrs. Potter. Why would you think that the Death Eaters would know it was you?"

"But of course it got back to them," he said.

"Well, they certainly know about the Fidelius Charm," Olivia said. "Everyone knows about that. But how would they know . . .?"

"We made sure Remus was there," Sirius said almost to himself. "We made sure he knew . . ."

"What does Remus have to do with this?" Olivia asked in confusion. "Sirius, come on, let's get out of here. You're not making any sense. You don't need to see this, I shouldn't have brought you . . ."

Sirius's eyes widened as everything fell into place in his mind. Remus wasn't the spy – he couldn't be. If he had been the spy, he would have been sure to send Voldemort after Sirius, thinking that he was the Secret Keeper. He would never have sent him after James's mother. Giving false information to Voldemort would be cause for his death. Sirius, James and Lily had been wrong – so very wrong. It had never been Remus who had been hurting them, giving away information about them . . . and that only left one person who could be the spy . . . Peter . . .

He raised his head to look at Olivia with a stunned expression. "My God, Olivia, I've made a terrible mistake."

"Sirius, what are you talking about?" she asked. "Come on, let's go. You need to be away from here . . ."

"You're right," Sirius said, standing so quickly that Olivia was forced to jump back so that he didn't step on her. "I need to find Peter."

"Peter?" Olivia asked in confusion. "First Remus, now Peter . . . Listen, Sirius, I know you want to tell the guys what's happened, but you need to tell James first."

"James . . ." Sirius's eyes widened in fear. "Yes, I need to get to James. But I have to see Peter first." He took off at a run, sprinting back to his motorbike.

"Sirius, wait!" Olivia yelled, struggling to keep up with him. "What are you on about?"

Sirius stopped at his bike and looked back just as she caught up to him. "I need to tell him," he said.

"Okay," Olivia said, stepping back. "James should hear about his mother from you. Do you want me to come?"

"No, I need to do this alone," Sirius replied. He looked at her for a moment. "I love you, Liv."

"I love you, too," she replied.

He leaned down and kissed her. "I'll love you forever, you know that, right?"

"Yeah . . . of course . . . I'll always love you, too . . ."

Sirius grinned. "Good. I'll see you soon, love."

He jumped on his bike and slammed down on the accelerator. He had to get to Peter's hiding place before Voldemort did.

If Lily had thought that by giving Harry a playroom she would eliminate having toys strewn throughout her house, she was sadly mistaken. His toys seemed to make it into every corner of their new home within days of moving in. Harry took to moving himself to the toys rather than moving the toys back into the playroom; for this reason, all three Potters found themselves in the living room on Halloween night, playing with Harry's stuffed animals.

"I think he's getting tired," Lily observed as Harry made his lion attack the hapless sheep that James was holding.

"I think you're right," James replied as he made the sheep fight back. Harry laughed at his father's antics, but his eyelids drooped as he fought to stay awake. "Are you tired, Harry?"

"No," Harry said forcefully. "No bed."

"It's getting to be bedtime," Lily said, rubbing the face of the stag she held against his cheek. "But how about you and I cuddle on the couch for a minute first?"

Harry giggled and grabbed the stag from her. "No bed."

"Not bed, just cuddling on the couch with Mummy," Lily smiled.

"I will, too," James grinned, standing up. He pointed his wand at the couch to expand it. "We should all fit, right?"

"Definitely," Lily grinned.

James laid down first, and Lily laid down with her back up against his chest. Harry continued to play with his toys, determinedly avoiding his parents' attempts to make him get ready for bed.

"Don't you want to come and cuddle with Mummy and Daddy?" Lily asked. She leaned over to pick up Harry's dog. "Doggie Sirius is here, too."

"Doggie Siri," Harry grinned. He came across the room, and Lily picked the baby up, putting him down in front of her.

For several moments, no one spoke. James was relaxed against the back of the couch, with Lily leaning up against him. He played with her hair, even as she ran her fingers through the unruly locks of Harry, who was curled up against her. As his breathing evened out, Lily knew that her little boy had fallen asleep. She smiled, and twisted her head to look up at James.

"I think he's out."

James grinned. "He really was tired."

"Yeah."

They lapsed back into silence for several moments. It was James who broke it when he spoke softly again.

"You know, Lil, I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"Harry."

Lily smiled. "What about him?"

"I think we've done a fantastic job with him, don't you?"

"He's the sweetest baby alive," Lily affirmed.

"Well, I've been thinking . . . maybe my mum's right. Maybe it is time for us to try all of this again."

Lily twisted her head to look up at him. "You want to have another baby?"

"Well, we already have a little me. Now we need a little you."

"Are you serious?" Lily whispered.

"Do you want to have another one?" James asked.

"Nothing would make me happier," Lily beamed. "I was thinking about the same thing! When do you want to start trying?"

"No time like the present," James grinned, leaning down to kiss her.

Lily smiled against his lips, and pulled away. "Shall I put Harry to bed first?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," James laughed.

Lily stood up slowly, trying to lift Harry up without waking him. James suddenly reached out to grab her arm.

"Stop," he whispered.

"What is it?" Lily asked, tensing instantly.

"Someone's coming."

"Who could be coming?" she asked, bewildered. "Was Sirius supposed to come to check on us tonight?"

"No," James said tensely. "Listen . . . do you hear those footsteps?"

Lily fell silent, her eyes growing wide. "Someone is coming," she said in a terrified whisper.

James put his finger to his lips, and crept toward the window with his wand out. He pushed the curtain aside to peek out, then jumped back, letting it fall back into place. His face showed utter fear, but his eyes reflected a desire to fight. He was not going to let this demon take his family.

"Is it -?" Lily couldn't bring herself to finish her question.

James nodded grimly.

"Oh, God, oh, God," Lily moaned, clutching Harry to her, waking him as she jarred him around. "How could this have happened? How could he have found us? Peter was supposed to keep us safe! I did the Charm right; no one has been able to find us!"

"It doesn't matter now, Lil!"

"It doesn't matter?" she shrieked. "But Peter –"

"Lily, take Harry and go!" James yelled, cutting off her continued speculation about what had happened to bring Voldemort to their door. "It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

"James, I can't leave you!" Lily exclaimed, tears filling her eyes.

"I'll be fine, love, just get Harry out of here!" He gave her a lopsided smile. "We've taken him on before – it's just one more time."

"I love you, James," she said.

"I love you, too, Lil," he replied. "Now, get Harry out of here!"

Lily grabbed the baby to her even more tightly, and ran out of the room. She tripped over several toys and stumbled, but managed to stay on her feet. She ran all the way to the playroom, where a fireplace was connected to the Floo network. She looked at it for a moment that lasted an eternity, but stopped.

"We can't leave Daddy all alone," she told Harry. "We have to be very quiet, though . . . Voldemort can't know that we're here . . ."

She thought of the last time she had been afraid to leave James alone in battle, when the Death Eaters had ambushed them on the beach in Greece. She had been so sure that all was lost for them and Sirius had come out of nowhere, ready to help, ready to fight, ready to defend them . . .

Oh, why hadn't they forced him to remain their Secret Keeper?

But maybe it didn't matter . . . maybe he would come in at a crucial moment to save them again . . .

James stumbled toward the front door, ready to battle Voldemort to the death. The rage that rushed through him made him sure that he could kill this beast himself. He was angry with Voldemort for finding them, angry with Peter for giving him their location, and angry with himself for not realizing that Peter had been the spy all along. How could he ever have suspected Remus? The one man who had fought all his life to make and keep friends would never sell those friends out . . . Why hadn't they seen that from the beginning?

The door burst open in a shower of sparks and the sound of Voldemort's chilling, high-pitched laughter filled the house. He turned to look at James, whose wand was already held high, ready for battle.

"Where is your son?" he asked.

"We've played this game before," James replied. "I wouldn't tell your minions, and I'm not about to tell you."

Voldemort waved his wand, sending a jet of red light sailing toward James. He blocked the curse, and shot one of his own back at the Dark Lord. The two began a duel that seemed to go on forever. James put every last molecule of his being into the battle, knowing that he was fighting for not only his own life, but also for those of his wife and son. He couldn't let them down. He had to at least tire Voldemort to the point where he couldn't kill them when he tried.

"This has gone on long enough," Voldemort said at last. "Your family has been a problem to me since I began my campaign, James. I will not stand for it any longer."

James knew what was coming. He had known that it would come down to this from the moment that he first heard Voldemort coming up his walkway. But even that knowledge was not enough to make him back down.

"Do it, then," he whispered. "I'm not afraid. I know that you'll never win, because evil never triumphs. Good always wins in the end. As long as people continue to go about their lives without fear, as long as love continues to flourish in this world, you will never win. You can't, because you just can't compete with courage and love."

"Very poetic," Voldemort said in a bored tone. "We shall make those your famous last words. Avada Kedavra."

As the jet of green light flew toward him, James closed his eyes, summoning Lily's and Harry's faces before them. He wanted them to be the last things he saw.

On the other side of the house, Lily heard his body hit the floor. She sucked in her breath sharply, and bit her lips to keep from screaming. Tears jumped into her eyes. She knew what had happened without seeing it, without being told. There was no way she could have felt such a horrible void in her heart if James were still alive.

Harry looked up at her with his huge green eyes. "Daddy?" he asked quietly.

"You feel it, too, don't you?" she whispered, running her hand over his head. "Please be quiet, Harry. We still have each other, and we want to keep it that way. We can't let him find us."

She held her baby tightly, rocking him back and forth as her tears ran into his hair. Harry remained quiet, and put his small arms around her neck. They had barely begun to comfort one another when she became aware of footsteps entering the playroom. She jumped to her feet, grabbing her wand to defend herself.

"Have you come to finish us off, too?" she asked angrily. "Now that you've killed my husband, you're down to two Potters to destroy."

"I'll only be destroying one," he said. "I'm not here for you, I'm here for the baby. Give him to me."

"No!" she screamed, holding Harry all the tighter. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl . . . stand aside, now . . ."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –"

"You don't need to die, you silly girl," Voldemort hissed. "I have no use for you. It's the boy I want."

"Not Harry!" Lily screamed. "Please . . . have mercy . . . have mercy . . ."

"When have you ever known me to show mercy?" Voldemort cackled. "I have come to kill the baby, and that is what I am about to do. Avada Kedavra."

"NO!" Lily screamed desperately.

Voldemort laughed wickedly as the jet of death sped toward Harry.

Lily turned her back on him, still clutching Harry to her chest, thereby using herself as a human shield to protect her baby. The curse struck her back, stealing the life from her body. As she fell, her arms opened, and Harry slid down her body onto the floor. He looked at her with huge eyes. He pushed himself to his small feet, and toddled to the place where her head lay.

"Mummy?" he asked, touching her face. "Mummy? Mummy, Harry scared! Mummy!"

"She didn't need to die, you know," Voldemort said, looking at the baby. "She did buy you a few extra moments." He smiled in a twisted way. "I don't believe we have ever met, and it would be terribly rude of me to kill you without introducing myself. I am Lord Voldemort, Harry, and I am here to make sure that you can never destroy me as some think you may. So, although it has, of course, been a pleasure, I think that it is time for us to say goodbye. Avada Kedavra."

Harry looked at Voldemort with a loathing generally not seen on the faces of toddlers. He knew that this man was the one that had done something to his mummy, something that made it impossible for her to respond to him. He screwed up his face, unaccustomed to the feelings and emotions that were coursing through him, as the jet of light hit him . . .

There was pain, but it was brief. The light had barely touched Harry when it rebounded, striking Lord Voldemort. Harry watched as the man screamed in pain. Then, his body seemed to melt away while a shadowy something floated upward.

And then the house came down around them.