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Behind Emerald Eyes

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Chapter 38 -

Life

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will have a son . . .mothered by the last and only in a line of fire, and be heir to the mighty lion. Powers only the father can match, will he bear. Born as the fifth month rises and when the moon is split . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will have a son . . ."

Back and forth. Step. Step. Step. Back again. Step. Step. Step. Forward. Step. Step. Step –

"Y'know, if you keep doing that, some poor old bloke will trip over the carpet you've trod up," Ron said conversationally, watching as Harry glanced at the clock. His comment went unnoticed.

"Do you think she's okay? It's been almost three hours!" He looked to Ron for comfort, emerald eyes wide and afraid.

"She's fine, Harry, relax!" Ron laughed. Harry nodded distractedly, glancing at the clock once then at a door to their left, before starting pacing the same track. A sigh escaped Ron's lips. "I tell the lad to relax and what's he do? Start making me nervous..."

"It's his first child, leave him alone," Bill laughed casually, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed above his head. Cool as always.

Ron looked at him coyly. "And you had your first child when? Last month? The month before? And you're suddenly the expert on stress?" He snickered. "If I remember correctly, you were freaking out more than Harry!"

"Yeah, but at least I didn't do that!" Bill laughed, pointing to the clock. Ron looked at it to find the hands spinning wildly around, picking up speed by the second. Harry, who was still pacing erratically below, was oblivious.

"Harry, calm down!" Ron said, standing and placing a tight grip on his friend's shoulder. "Before you tear the place apart!" Harry stopped his pacing as the hand of the clock slowed down at half-passed seven – eight hours after the appropriate time. He nodded quickly.

"Yeah, I know, I'm just so bloody nervous and excited and terrified!" Harry shivered, glancing at the clock on the wall pointlessly then at the door. "I wonder if she's o–"

"She'll be fine!" Ron said calmly. "They have the best Healer's in there with her as well as Hermione and Mum! Honestly, mate, there's nothing to worry about!"

Harry looked at Ron stoically, a finger in his mouth where the nail was being anxiously chewed. "I hope you're right."

It was almost five months after the final – and hopefully last – battle, in which Harry defeated the vengeful son of the late Tom Marvolo Riddle. The battle had been fought fiercely by both sides, and even though the Light came out on top, it was not without its losses.

Hestia Jones had been killed, as well as the two new recruits to the Order: Taylor Rainman and Antoine Gabrielle. They had been brought into the Order to strengthen ties between Russia, France and Britain, and unite the forces against evil. Their presence had brought alliance but not before it could be put to good use. Their deaths, though tragic, truly connected the countries.

The Death Eaters that had been captured – or worse – were put back in Azkaban, now run by wizards, with strengthened wards to hold them. The Dementors had vanished with the life of Voldemort's son and were believed to stay that way until another powerful form of evil reemerged. In which case, the Ministry and Wizarding World would be ready.

The rest of the Order were fine. Those that had been injured were healing, including George, who had been hit with what the Healer's identified as a Blood-Leadening Curse; slowly, the curse spread throughout the victim's body, poisoning the blood it touched and leaving it with traces of lead. If the curse was left long enough without removing, the victim would die a dreadfully painful and excruciatingly slow death.

Fortunately, though, they had gotten George to the hospital just in time, and even though he still had some trouble moving about at the speed he once did, he was almost back to his bouncy, cheerful old self.

Everyone else was recovering well and getting over the traumas of the battle and the raids of the rogue Death Eaters afterwards. Evil was leaving the Wizarding World, and even though they hoped it would be for the last time, they knew more would take its place in time.

Ron was back playing Quidditch, or had been before the season ended a few weeks ago. They made it into the Grand Final – and won. Hermione and Harry were back teaching at Hogwarts, but as Ginny's pregnancy came to its final stages, Harry took leave to stay with her all the time.

"I know how you feel, son," Arthur said from his spot by the water tank. He was looking rather pale and sweaty. "I've been through seven of these myself and it never gets any easier, especially to know it's your daughter in there!"

Harry placed a shaky hand to his head. "Thanks and all, Mr Weasley, but that really didn't help me."

The door to the side opened and Hermione's head appeared; bushy-haired and wide-eyed. She smiled. "You can come in, Harry." He didn't need telling twice; Harry was already walking through the door.

The room smelt of the sweet scent of flowers, which were lining each of the walls and dresser from the many admirers who had heard of Ginny's stay in hospital and sent well-wishes and gifts. It looked like an entire gift shop, Harry thought bizarrely, before taking in the rest of the room.

There was a bed in the centre of the room, the head of which rested against the wall, where a female Healer stood with her wand taking notes on a levitating board. She glanced and smiled at him as he approached. Hermione was close at his side, gripping his elbow tightly, letting him lead her closer. Molly Weasley stood by the bed, her cheeks and eyes glistening with tears, one hand clutching a bunch of tissues the other holding her daughter's hand.

And then there was Ginny. Sweaty and pale with messy hair pulled into an awkward knot at the side of her head and dark bags beneath her eyes. She glanced at him with drained eyes and dry, cracked lips smiled blissfully.

Beautiful. As always.

Harry walked closer, his heart beating as if in slow motion in his chest. Each pound brought him closer to the small bundle lying in his beloved's arms. Ginny looked down, shifting the pale blue blanket slightly, then looking up.

"Hello," she said with a slightly hoarse voice.

Harry licked his lips. "H-Hi."

She smiled once more. "Care to meet your son?"

There was no need for an answer. The word's tumbled around in his mind and time slowed as he stepped closer. The bundle of skin and blanket was lifted into his arms and he got the first view of his son.

Emerald eyes looked up into his own. Large, beautiful eyes. The mirror image of his own yet entirely different. Innocence and curiosity and wonder – emotions they both felt. The child felt like nothing in his arms yet he held it as if it were made of the finest glass.

Emerald eyes sleepily drifted closed then opened, blinking away the stupor. Tiny fingers, miniatures of his own, reached for touch, closing around Harry's thumb. He was suddenly overcome by emotion. The spot behind his eyes burnt and he felt tears pry their way out down his cheeks.

His son. Emerald eyes and a shock of bright red hair, scattered thickly over his head, with a small spot at the back already sticking up. Harry ran a finger over the child's pale, red-splotched cheeks, his hands no longer shaking but steady in their hold.

He didn't want to look away but when he did, it was with eyes so overcome by tears of joy he could hardly see anything. He looked down, wiping his eyes with his shoulders, to look once more at his son.

Son. Family. His.

"Ginny..." he breathed huskily.

"I u-understand," she replied, her voice cracking with her own emotion-brought tears. "Come here." Harry, keeping his eyes glued on those of the child, slid onto the bed beside Ginny. Her arms snaked around his middle, enclosing both of them tightly.

"I love you," he said fiercely, looking into her eyes with intense passion and devotion.

Ginny smiled wearily, exhausted and weak, yet at the most alive point in her life. "I love you too."

Harry, letting Ginny place one hand beneath the little bundle of existence in his lap, looped an arm around her back, linking it with her free hand. Her head drooped to his shoulder. "Will you marry me?" he said softly, turning so he could look in her eyes. She quickly looked up at him, mouth open and eyes wide. She quickly grinned, kissing him and pulling away.

"Yes, Mr Potter, I will," she said, before being pulled into a passionate kiss. Hermione and Molly politely turned their backs, both their cheeks wet. Hermione went to the door, disappearing outside for a moment, and returning with Ron and the other's close behind. It seemed as though the rest of the Weasley's had turned up, as Charlie, Fred and George followed their father and brothers inside.

Ginny and Harry pulled apart, looking down at their son, and smiling. "What are you going to name him?" Molly asked, lightly blowing her nose with a tissue. Ginny looked up at Harry, nodded slowly and smiled.

Harry looked around at everyone and said, with a heavy heart ready to explode, "His name is James Sirius Albus Arthur Potter."

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The wind howled under the door, clutching at the darkness in the corners and shying away from the glowing red embers watching from the grate. Shadows stooped from the ceiling, thrown along thread-bare carpet from stretching legs of chairs and the towering posts of a large bed.

Twisted sheets silhouetted a figure lying upon the high mattress. Groans and gasps and strangled sounds escaped from his slightly parted mouth, as he turned and tossed beneath the covers in distress.

"No..." he breathed fearfully, his face turned to the side, so the ruby light from the fireplace illuminated the creases in his brow. "Never!"

Suddenly, he sat up, a curtain of black hair falling around his face, oily with sweat and mistreatment, and mussed from a fitful episode on the pillows. Endless eyes, clouded from sleep, widened as realisation dawned as he looked around the room. Growling and swearing, he swung his legs from the bed, landing his bare feet upon the thin green rug.

Across the room, he opened a cupboard and pulled out a glass and bottle. Setting them at the table and roughly sloshing ginger liquid into the glass, it disappeared down his throat in one hurried gulp. Screwing his face up at the horrid taste and quickly refilling for another, Severus Snape turned to the fire, so the reddened coals lay glittering in his eyes.

"Stupid Potter and his stupid Prophecies," he growled and the second glass of whiskey disappeared with another swallow. "Penguin suits..."

He shuddered.

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Disclaimer – I Do not own Harry Potter and never will.

And that's it. The last chapter of Behind Emerald Eyes.

I can't express my thanks to everyone who reviewed and read in words, except that I continued this story because of you! You're all the greatest, seriously, and none of this would have happened!

I had that last part of the chapter planned way ahead of everything else, except for the kid's name, which i had before i even started the story. I know it's long but I might right another couple of scenes later on, when he's older, than show why. Other scenes may include Harry and Ginny's wedding, James' first day at school or first signs of magic, and any other funny scenes i might imagine.

Other information you may want to know, is that Ron and Hermione are godfather and godmother, and James was born during a Lunar eclipse – think back to the prophecy at the top of the page. He's also Godric Gryffindor's heir, another reason why Voldemort wanted Harry dead, and why Voldemort's son wanted all three of them dead – Harry, Ginny and their son.

So, if i decide to write the scenes later on, I'll put them in a one-shot story probably called something like: Behind Emerald Eyes: Extras or something like that. So, keep a look out if you want to read them.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed or even read, it is so great to know that something I wrote has been linked to so many people. It's the greatest accomplishment finishing a story. Thanks and I hope to hear from you all soon!

Later Days...

Dana

aka

QueenWeasel