A/N: This got a bit different dimension than I had in mind at first… but hopefully it's better. I'd like to read your opinion. R&R, please. Enjoy.

Children of the Dark Year: Thetis

The red-haired young woman sat down on the kitchen desk, took the glass her husband was passing her and sighed. Harry had finally fallen asleep. The boy had enough stamina to wear out both of them. And now this.

"We have to be careful, James," she said thoughtfully, taking a sip and humming appreciatively. The upcoming event was constantly on her mind and she thought – no, she was sure – it was going to end bad. Something was going to happen, she just couldn't put her finger on it. "If it was only about us, I'm fine with the concept. But Harry-"

"All of them have seen him before. Have held him. They won't just grow fangs and bite him-"

"I didn't say anything like that."

James was, of course, right. But that still didn't mean she was going to stop being nervous. "Have you completed the list?" He nodded, picked a roll of parchment from the top of the fridge (she had insisted on having one) and, simultaneously taking a gulp from his glass, handed it to her. She straightened it while he settled in the heavy old chair he had insisted on keeping.

There weren't many names – just their best friends, and she felt it was way too few to say goodbye to yet at the same time way too many to let at the same time in one room with their son.

Evelyn, Alice, Frank, Peter, Amelia, Gideon, Fabian and, of course, Sirius…

Lily frowned. It might have been a mistake, but she wouldn't have put it past James to leave one of their best friends out.

"And Remus?"

James fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable under his wife's gaze, and nervously ran his hand through his hair.

"Lils, I… I'm not sure about him-"

"Well, I am!" she responded angrily. Remus was the last one she would expect to betray them. Anyone, even Sirius was more likely to do anything twisted. Remus was the kindest, most sincere and most straightforward boy she had ever known. And apart from any of James's other friends, she felt she really knew him.

"You said you didn't want to take risks-"

"Remus isn't a risk! Remus is- Remus loves Harry as much as we do! He would never, never-"

"Lils, somebody is giving private information about us to You Know Who."

She stared at him disbelievingly, blood drained from her face. The glass on the table next to her cracked and a thin trickle of blood red wine oozed on the white tablecloth.

"No," she said, almost soundlessly. James's face had hardened and now he was staring at the photograph on the wall opposite him. It was taken on the day of their Graduation Ceremony – all the seventh-year Gryffindors were there. She didn't like the seeking scrutiny – as though he was trying to find a traitor among them. A traitor… what kind of age were they living in?

"Remus does not." Of that she was sure. Remus's life was full of insecurities and he knew to value the few people who loved him. He knew there was nothing Voldemort could offer him and even if… even if they had found the cure, Remus wouldn't make that kind of a deal. Not at that price. He had learnt to live with his curse, learnt to accept it… who knew better than her? She had listened to him on the nights after his transformation, when he sat in the common room until the early morning hours, as close to fire as he could get without being burnt, because he was constantly cold. She had seen the tears he wouldn't shed anymore; just looking at him she had felt the pain he was feeling, but refused to let show.

Remus was the ideal of Gryffindor; he was brave, courageous and fiercely loyal. She had expected James to have realised it long ago.

"We cannot be sure-"

"Say that again and I hex you!" You fat-headed twit! She had though he had changed in the last two years. But no, he was still incredibly naïve, thanks to the care – spoiling – he received from his perfect pure-blooded parents. He still believed people who flattered him more than people who told him the truth downright. He would invite Born-to-be-sidekick-Peter and My-head-is-bigger-than-yours-Sirius, but not Remus. And why?

She had the bitter feeling she knew. Running around the school as Animagi with a werewolf once in a month was fun, but when it came to trust, the werewolf was never one to receive it. Damn pure-blood prejudice!

"Calm down, Lils-"

"Stop calling me that!"

James looked taken aback. He probably knew that she honestly despised the endearment Sirius had made up for her, but he might have forgotten, since she was patient enough to put up with it most of the time. At least it served for him to realise that he had done some serious line-crossing there…

"Okay. Remus comes. Would that be fine with you?" he asked haugtily and Lily's temper neared the mark 'dangerous'. In the past two years she was rarely aggravated with him, but this was… this was so ignorant… for once she had to agree with Snape on the assesment of her husband.

"Fine. Wonderful." She scribbled the name under 'Sirius', thrust the parchment at James and stomped out of the room.

CotDY

The bedroom was dark but for two tiny glowing blue lights.

"Sorry, baby. Did we wake you?" she asked quietly. Harry looked up at the golden stars floating above the cradle and fisted his left hand (the right one was in his mouth). The stars started circling, pushed by the child's instinctive magic. She couldn't help it – she smiled.

"How is it you can always make things seem better?"

The baby didn't spare her a glance, watching the 'sky' with fascination. She shook her head and walked over to the bed. It was tidy and empty and cold. She sighed and with resignation sat down on the edge. Her nightsuit was folded neatly under the pillow. It had been expensive and nowhere near as comfortable as the cotton pyjama she used to wear at school had been. She put it on anyway, and paced to the cradle.

Harry was making the stars spin in the opposite direction and she found she was just as amazed as the child, though for an entirely different reason. How many three-month-old wizards could actually perform deliberate magic? She didn't fool herself – when she said her child was special, it wasn't just maternal pride.

Suddenly a freezing thought popped in her head – what if Harry was the reason for all the madness? What if it was actually her, who had put the things she was now afraid of into movement? Could it be that they were happening because she… because of her visit at Severus's?

She swiftly turned around and rushed into the bathroom. The mirror showed her a young, soon-to-be twenty-one, woman with wild messy red hair framing a sickly-pale face. She looked as a walking dead; her lips were trembling, her eyes haunted. Was this the missing piece of the jigsaw? Did they have to go under the Fidelius because of her rash actions?

"Oh, Harry…" she whispered to the deaf walls. Whatever happened, as long as Harry would survive, she was content.

The door opened and for a short moment of irrationality she thought it was her son, but then James entered, with his head bowed and overally looking apologetic. She watched him in the mirror as he stepped closer and put his arms around her from behind.

Nobody said a word, but this was how it always went. This was James's way of saying he was sorry. She had learnt to accept it, just as she had learnt to tolerate many other of his oddities. Though… would he hate her if he knew she had put them in danger? Even though she had done it to protect their child?

"I love you, Lils."

She nodded. He said it often, but it still didn't quite lose its special feeling. He kissed her hair and she forced herself to smile at his reflection. Maybe… maybe they would survive this. And if not, at least Harry would.

CotDY

Lily woke up to franatic knocking on the windowpane. Muttering a few curses about stupid forms of communication, bloody birds and unnaturally early hours to be awake she crossed the bedroom and let the owl inside. It looked around wearily, bulging its great round eyes and eventually stuck out a leg with a parchment strapped to it.

"There's some corn on the mantelpiece…" she mumbled sleepily and heard the bird take off. She didn't spare it another glance, staring at the letter. The crest was familiar, she was sure it belonged to some of her former classmates. Not Blacks, but otherwise she had no clue.

"Whazza matter?" She cast James a weary glance, but he was still facing the opposite side of the room and she simply couldn't bring herself to care. His breathing evened out within seconds, so she didn't even bother to respond.

She yawned, took a glance at Harry and guessed he would be awake shortly, judging from the stink. She would let James take care of it, as a small revenge for yesterday. There was some mail for her to read.

The bird was perched on the mantlepiece and looked like it was trying to decide between stuffing with the food and falling asleep on the spot. Longbottoms. The crest belongs to Longbottoms. The fact that she remembered was a clear sign that she was already awakening. Whatever. She had always been an early-riser, and with Harry around she was used to getting up before the dawn.

The owl was probably waiting for reply. She gracelessly tore the envelope and unfolded the parchment within.

Dear Lil,
me and Frank will probably retreat from the 'public life' for a while and I've heard it's the same for you… We're planning a farewell get-together, and as I know you, you're as well. How about joining?
Alice

It took her three minutes to find some spare parchment and a pen, and it was enough time to bethink the answer.

Dear Alice,
of course, as long as it's within a week. Our guest-list is attached. How's Neville?
Lily

The owl eyed her with spite, but she unceremoniously kicked it out. She already heard Harry crying. Damn the lazy man. His own child was in discomfort and he didn't have the grace to get his lazy ass out of the bed.