Author's Note: Thank you so much for the ridiculously kind feedback-I'm blown away! Your words, follows and faves of this story made my heart absolutely soar. Chapter 3 was turning out to be ridiculously long, almost 20,000 words, so I decided to split it, hence why it's ready tonight. Good news, most of Ch 4 is done, just a few things to work out, but I make no promises about an update next week. I'm hopeful, but I'm also a mom of 4, two of whom are 19 month old twins (hi all you mamas of lockdown babes-we're warriors!), so you know, life.
Take care of yourselves, and Happy Halloween!
"Well, I'm a giver,
And I'm still giving 'em hell
Forgiving's pretty hard
So I made an art of out of forgettin' 'em well"
Miranda Lambert, Bluebird
"James," Lily finally choked out, stomach rolling sickeningly. "I'm so sorry, this wasn't how I wanted you to find-"
James scoffed. "Oh, so you did at least think a bit of how you might tell me I'm a dad, even if you didn't act on it." His tone was bitter, eyes still wide, anger burning within.
"You aren't my dad," Harry chimed in, looking at James skeptically. "I heard Suzanne tell Creepy Dave Mommy was a wee-dow, so I asked Ms. Speil at school what that means and she said it means my dad died." Harry turned to Lily with a confused look on his face. "My dad's dead, right?"
Lily closed her eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath. Please let the ground swallow me, she thought. Anytime now, ground will open, I will fall through.
She opened her eyes. Nope, no ground swallowing. Just Harry, who was looking utterly perplexed, Black, whose face had somehow grown even more accusatory, and James, who seemed apoplectic with rage.
"I'm dead?!" He bellowed. "In your dream scenario for why I was not in my son's life, that's what you settled on?"
"I'm so sorry," Lily started, but James was on a roll.
"Seriously, tell me how it went. You arrive at wherever the fuck you were in the States and someone asks about the baby's dad and you say to yourself, 'Oh I know! Let's just kill James off! Because he will definitely never find out he has a real, human child!'"
"James, please, I want to explain—"
"Oh I can't wait to hear-"
"Just please," Lily recognized her tone was pleading, almost begging. "Can we please not fight in front of Harry?"
At Lily's words, James turned back to the child in question and his face went soft.
"Shit," James said, and he took a few steadying breaths. "Not making a great impression, am I?"
"No, pretty terrible, actually," Black said, his voice light, unable to pass an opportunity to tease James despite the seriousness of the situation they found themselves in.
"Harry," Lily said, kneeling again to ensure she was at his eye level, gently placing her hands on his shoulders. "Mommy made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Your dad is alive, and this is him. James," she gestured over her shoulder, beckoning James to kneel beside her.
James hesitated for a moment, but proceeded to kneel, sucking in a barely audible breath as he looked at Harry, eyes drinking him in from head to toe, a slow smile taking over his face.
"Hi," James said. "I'm James, your dad." He held out his hand, and Harry, after giving Lily an unsure look to which she gave an encouraging nod, took it. James' face was awestruck, mouth slightly ajar as he touched Harry for the first time.
"Hi," Harry said. "Do you play soccer?"
James let out a small laugh, smile widening further. "No, but I was one of the best Quidditch players this school ever saw."
"What's that?" Harry asked, looking back at Lily.
This, however, seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as James was then reminded of his fury at Lily. He stood, turning on her.
"He doesn't even know about QUIDDITCH?"
"Alright mate," Black interjected. "Merlin, only you would be more upset that your kid doesn't know about Quidditch than you are that his mother concealed his birth for three years."
Lily bit back a laugh, unable to help herself, and James threw her another furious look. Black, for his part, threw her a quick smirk before rearranging his features to glare at her again. Right, Lily thought. We are all very angry or contrite. No laughing.
"So, an idea," Black continued. "I'll take the little guy outside. There's some students playing a pick-up game outside as classes are cancelled, since you know, your son defeated Voldemort this morning. You two talk."
Lily hesitated, anxiety creeping over her. She had always been extra protective of Harry, never leaving him unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, only really with Gemma. Even sending him to school had been difficult. And now, even if what she was hearing was true, that Harry actually had defeated Voldemort, a fact that Lily still did not know for certain, she still did not feel safe, could not fathom letting her son out of her sight. Especially with Sirius Black.
As Lily chewed on her lip, James seemed to pick up on her hesitation.
"Sirius is surprisingly good with kids," he said, his face a bit softer. "And we can step outside, too, so he'll still be in your line of sight at all times."
Knowing she couldn't really say no, that she owed James this conversation, had owed it to him for quite some time, Lily nodded. "Lead the way, then."
The four made their way to the entrance hall in a tense silence, other than Harry who seemed more or less oblivious, waving to the paintings only to cackle madly when they waved back. He kept looking back over his shoulder at Lily with a "can you believe this?" look over his face. One time, his gaze fell to James, who gave him a smile, but Harry's face became suspicious, unsure, and he turned back around to focus on the suits of armor. Lily could not help but notice James' face clouded, his shoulders tensed.
Once reaching the grounds, Black and Harry took a left, with Harry running ahead, forcing Black to scurry after him with an "Oi! Slow it down!" leaving Lily and James very much alone, a hundred pounds of baggage between them. Lily scarcely knew where to start, how to begin to unravel the story that lead them here. James, for all his anger earlier, stayed quiet, waiting, tense.
Just get it out, Lily thought to herself. Just be honest and open. You can do that now, you are not the same person you were at eighteen.
Taking one final deep inhale and exhale, she began.
"I owe you the world's biggest apology, James," she started, noticing a slight waver in her voice from nerves. He heard it too, turning toward her, eyebrows raising in curiosity, even as the scowl on his face remained firmly in place.
"When I found out—"
"When?" James asked, his voice quiet. "How long did you know before you left?"
"December, during the Hogsmeade visit. I apparated to a muggle town and took a test there."
"December?" James bit out, sounding bitter. "You knew for months, while we were still shagging regularly—"
"Yes," Lily said simply.
"Why?" James asked, face still a mix of fury, but now there was something else, something new. Hurt, Lily realized. Rejection. Pain. Her heart ached, that familiar guilt creeping in.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say," she started again. "At first, I wasn't sure if I was going to, you know, keep him. And then, once I decided, I was so scared—"
"Of me?" James asked, his face becoming fuller of despair by the second. "You were afraid I'd—what?"
Lily blanked, wrinkling her brow. "Hurt me," Lily said, voice quiet, but strong. "Not physically, of course not that, but emotionally? Mentally? Our relationship was so difficult for me. I never knew where I stood with you."
"Lily, I—"
"No, you need to understand," Lily cut in. "I was so insecure, James. I don't think you ever realized, but I was pretty familiar with being rejected, tossed aside. And you were never very nice to me, even when we were, well, together, or not together but shagging. I didn't think you'd want me, or us," she said, gesturing to Harry, finally voicing the fears she had felt since that December afternoon. "And then I finally convinced myself to tell you, and you asked for the date and ditched me—"
James made a noise as if he wanted to jump in, like he wanted to say something, but Lily held up a hand.
"Please, let me get this out, please. Being open with you doesn't come easily, and I need to explain."
James looked at her, a long gaze, and then nodded, gesturing for her to go on.
"So you ditched me, and as you know, I heard what you said to Lupin, about me, and the kind of girl you thought I was, and god, it broke me, James. I was mad about you, and I thought we might finally be getting on the same page, and then I heard you say that? It shattered my fucking heart."
As Lily talked, she became aware her voice was thick, that tears were welling up in her eyes. Never, even with Gemma, had she been so vulnerable in regards to her relationship with James. These feelings had been a stone around her neck for years and speaking them now, to the person who most needed to hear them, was overwhelming her. It was if all of her repressed emotions were falling over her in a tidal wave, threatening to sweep her away, to drown her.
James, for his part, let his head fall, staring hard at his shoes. When he finally spoke, he did not look at her, but his voice was rough, choked, even. As if he too were at war with his emotions.
"So I'm the reason you left then? I always thought, but it's good I guess, to know for sure."
"No!" Lily said, cutting in abruptly, grasping James' forearm, causing his face to snap to hers quickly. Blushing, Lily pulled back as if she had been burned, clearing her throat and tucking her hair behind her ear.
And so from there, she explained the prophecy, Dumbledore's determination to keep Harry a secret for his safety. How, yes, she had been angry and hurt with him, which contributed to her decision to cut him out, but ultimately, she left to save Harry. That she had regretted nearly every day that he had been kept in the dark, but by the time she felt strong enough to tell him, Dumbledore made her so fearful of a spy that she simply could not gamble with her son's life.
"I will never be able to apologize enough," she finished, feeling as though words were failing her, like there was no way to show him how deep her regret ran. "I stole three years of Harry from you, and I don't even know where to begin to start to fix that."
James cleared his throat, swallowing hard. He let out a few breaths, rolled his shoulders slightly. But still he stayed silent.
The moments dragged on. Lily allowed herself to glance over to where Harry stood with Black, gesturing wildly as he watched the pick-up Quidditch game. Guilt hit her like lightning again as she imagined another life, one where James had been involved, one where James had shown him the sport for the first time.
"I don't know what to say," James finally spoke, breaking Lily out of her own reveries. "I'm still so angry, Lily. I don't know if I have a right to be—"
"You do—"Lily cut in, heart sinking with shame.
"But if we are discussing apologies, I owe you a pretty colossal one too. I was an ass, an absolute prick. When I think about the things I said and did, how I treated you—"his voice broke, and Lily almost reached for him again. Almost. But her hand would not complete the action, as if it knew he needed to feel what he was feeling, as if part of her knew he needed to work through this on his own.
James cleared his throat. "I was gone so deep for you, but I didn't know how to show, how to get through to you. I knew you were keeping me at a distance, but I thought sex was the only thing you wanted me for. I thought…I don't know, it got you going when I was acting like a dick. I convinced myself that's all you wanted. If I had known— he broke off again.
"I know," Lily said quietly, meeting his eye briefly.
James shook his head, forehead creased. "I did wrong by you before," he said. "I need you to know that I know that. I knew it the day you left, but it was too late then to fix things. But I want to now, for all three of us."
Silence fell over them again, both watching Harry, neither ready to speak, to let their minds wander to all of the what-if scenarios floating just below the surface.
How long they stood there, Lily had no idea. She waited for him to speak or to walk away, to yell more or ask her another question. Instead he surprised her by staying silent, allowing all that was said and unsaid to wash over the both over them.
Not long after, Lily and James both found themselves in Dumbledore's office, giving Lily an odd sense of deja vu to their 7th year as co-Heads. Dumbledore had sent them a message while they had been out on the grounds to come at their earliest convenience, and so they signaled to Sirius to bring Harry in so the four could make the trek to Dumbledore's office together.
Harry, however, had other ideas in mind and was now in desperate need of a snack, and not without anxiety, Lily had acquiesced to Black's request to take him down to the kitchens ("He's going to lose his mind when he sees house elves," Black had muttered as the two gave them a cheery wave before splitting off to the kitchens).
As Lily sat in the plush arm chair, she couldn't help but bite her lip nervously. It had been a whirlwind of activity since she had woken up this morning, and as her stomach growled, she realized she had yet to eat anything herself. This only made the gnawing feeling worse, as if her anxiety was literally eating her from the inside.
James, for his part, seemed equally agitated, bouncing his knee repeatedly, running his hand through his hair. The two had hardly exchanged a word since their conversation outside, both simply talked out, unsure how to continue the conversation or move forward. A stalemate, Lily had thought. An impasse.
"Lily," Dumbledore said warmly as he entered, giving her a grin. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you here, alive and well. I apologize that I did not meet with you sooner, but I had to meet with some of the Order members, then tie some loose ends up for you in West Virginia, contact the ministry, and then I was informed you were indisposed with other conversations," Dumbledore rattled off, throwing James a quick look.
James stared back resolutely, his shoulders tense, hands flexing so quickly Lily might have imagined it. He's spoiling for a fight, she realized, seeing the clench in his jaw, the stare ice cold.
"I need," Dumbledore said, eyes traveling back Lily, "if you can, an account of exactly what happened last night. Anything you can remember."
And so Lily spoke, recounting the whole awful ordeal, from Voldemort's appearance, to Gemma's heroics, her voice breaking as she relived those final moments with Gemma, tears pouring from her eyes even as she fought to keep them back. James conjured her a handkerchief, and both men, while brimming with curiosity, allowed her time and space before asking her to continue.
Voice soft but resolute, she explained those final moments, so sure she was going to die, that this had all been for nothing, that Voldemort would murder Harry, only for the explosion to occur instead.
"From there, you know what happened next. I sent the patronus and someone came and got us," Lily finished lamely, unsure what else to say.
Dumbledore sat quietly, but James interrupted before long.
"What does this mean? How did they survive?" James asked. His eyes kept traveling back to Lily, as if searching for the answer on her face.
"I'm not sure, not yet. I have a theory, but I need a bit more time. What matters now, however, is that Voldemort appears to have vanished, and Harry does seem to have been the one to do it. After all, you said he was on top of you when the curse came; that would mean the curse hit him and likely reverberated back at its caster. But I think we'd be naive to assume he is vanquished for good. James, as you know from your work on the Horcruxes, he is not dead, not yet. But certainly significantly weakened. We will need time to think through our next steps, but in the meantime, I do want you to continue your work."
None of this made any sense to Lily, who opened her mouth to ask more questions, but was promptly cut off by James, who now looked irate.
"I'm taking a leave," James said, expression stony. "I want time with my son."
"James," Dumbledore began with the same patience Lily exhibited when explaining to Harry the necessity of eating his vegetables. "You are the Order's curse breaker. You are most qualified—"
"That's all you have to say to me? You knew for three years my son was out there, in danger, and you give me some bullshit about curse breaking?" To his credit, he did not raise his voice, but there was an angry growl present underneath his tone. Lily noticed an angry red flush crawling up his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fist, as if trying to reign in his composure.
"James, I do apologize," Dumbledore said, and he did look sympathetic, Lily thought. "It was not my goal to keep a family apart. There were moving pieces needed in different places-"
"All for the greater good," James snarled, the flush growing by the minute.
Lily looked back and forth, growing more ill at ease by the moment. She had never seen anyone so irate, so borderline disrespectful to Dumbledore. She knew James had his reasons, was justified to feel everything he felt, but also felt it was misdirected; that she deserved his wrath instead. That is was easier to direct his resentment toward Dumbledore instead of her.
"James," Dumbledore tried again. "I know you are upset. But please try to understand my point of view. Lily did not want you involved at first, and so I abided by her wishes. Once she changed her mind, it was clear we had been infiltrated by a spy, who, by the way, we've yet to identify. I could not put Lily and Harry at risk."
James scoffed, his face remaining unchanged. "Did you think I was the spy? Or simply that I was too incompetent to keep them safe?"
"Neither, James," Dumbledore said, face ever the picture of patience. "But you are loyal to a fault, and I feared you would naturally take the news to Sirius, Remus, or Peter."
"They would die," James said, bristling with indignation. "They would die before they'd give up my child to Voldemort."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "And your loyalty to them is admirable. But my mind remains unchanged. I would make the same choices again if it meant keeping Lily and Harry safe."
The two men shared a tense moment, eyes locked, but neither backing down. Lily felt as though they had rather forgotten she was there, lost in their own disagreement.
Unable to stay silent any longer, Lily finally chimed in. "Sir, what happens now? What do I need to do next to keep Harry safe?"
Dumbledore took his eyes from James, turning to Lily. James sat back in his chair, not relaxed, but spent, weary even. Lily knew the feeling well.
"There are options. We can find a new hiding place, either somewhere else in the United States or elsewhere. We could track down your sister and keep you and Harry both in the Muggle world—"
"You should move in with me," James cut in, taking both Lily and Dumbledore off guard. Lily noticed a pink twinge to his face, but his eyes never wavered from her as she processed his words.
"What?" Lily asked, bewildered, positively baffled.
"You need somewhere safe to live, and I can provide you with that. I want to provide that, for you and Harry."
Lily's mind whirred, trying to process James' offer, her mind immediately drifting to Harry. What's best for him? Lily asked herself, mentally calculating the possibilities.
Pros, she thought wryly, her old standby for making decisions: security, a relationship with his father, both of his parents living in the same house
Cons: Both his parents living in the same house, she thought with some degree of humor. After all the last time they lived together it had been…
A disaster. A tragedy. Laced with miscommunication. Heartbreaking.
But this could be different, a small voice spoke to Lily. This could be everything. We could learn, Lily thought. We could learn to be honest, to communicate, to be open, for Harry's well-being.
Sighing to herself, Lily turned to Dumbledore, waiting for him to weigh in.
"Staying in England would not be bad, necessarily. You wouldn't be hiding, but you would be safe. Potter Manor is nearly as safe as Hogwarts, which you'll need. Undoubtedly, Harry's name will get out, and the privacy afforded by the manor will be valuable when this happens. Plus protection from Voldemort's followers who are still active, looking for revenge…"
Dumbledore trailed off contemplating, but Lily shivered, a chill running down her spine. Revenge against her three year old child, she thought miserably. That it wasn't just Voldemort, but his supporters, too, and they were so numerous. Lily felt that familiar coldness, the numbness of panic seeping into her bones.
"Hey," James said, giving her arm a squeeze. "You said you didn't know where to start to fix things. This is a start. I'll protect you this time. You don't have to be scared." Of them, seemed to dangle at the end of the sentence. Of me, hung in the air, unspoken. Lily locked eyes with him, those family hazel swirls, so determined, so clear.
"No one's the best version of themselves at 18," Gemma had said. Lily closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath.
"Okay. Yes. We'll move in."
Yet, before Lily could move in with James, there was a final trip she needed to make, a goodbye she knew she had to say.
Three years ago, Lily had cut and run, allowing others to fill in the blanks for her; it had been the easier option. It had also been one made on emotion, the one that had led them down this path, the one that had resulted in more untied loose ends than she scarcely knew how to unravel.
And so, hesitantly, nervously, she pulled James aside after their meeting with Dumbledore on their way to meet up with Harry.
"I need to go back to the States for a few days," she said. She was not asking permission, she told herself, although she could feel his unease, maybe even his skepticism that she'd return.
"But Dumbledore said he took care of things," James said as they made their way down the stairs.
"I know. But there are people there that I need to see. I owe them an explanation even if I can't tell them the truth," she replied, willing him with her mind to understand.
"Will you take Harry with you?" came his quick reply, a challenge almost in his eyes.
"Of course. That's his only home he's ever known. I'd like to see if anything is salvageable. Any of his things or our pictures, or—"she trailed off. Anything of Gemmas, she thought, not able to voice that thought. "It's just important that I go."
"Okay then," James said, giving her a nod. "But I'd like to come with."
"You—what?"
"I'd like to come. I want to see where Harry was born. I want to know what his life looked like."
Lily blinked hard. She has expected a fight or a snide comment. A dig to make his distrust of her known. But instead, he was simply asking to be included. This should have made Lily excited, pleased even, and she was, but there was something uncomfortable settling in her gut. It all felt too easy, too swept under the rug. Too much like their old patterns, where they hurt each other and then pretended all was well.
Nevertheless, Lily cleared her throat and then nodded her head. "Alright, you'll come with us. I was hoping to leave sooner rather than later."
"I can go tomorrow," James offered as they reached the entrance to the kitchens, gesturing for Lily to tickle the pear.
"Tomorrow works," Lily said, but found she could not hold her tongue, did not want to. If James was harboring some fanciful notion of how their journey would evolve, Lily was determined to speak her truth. "But James, you were wrong earlier in Dumbledore's office."
"What?" James asked, confused.
"About where we start. The start isn't Harry and I moving in with you and becoming an instant family. A start needs to be forgiveness and healing. I've had three years' head start. I've had time to process what you haven't."
"What are you saying?" James asked, despair lining his face. "Are you changing your mind?"
"No," Lily replied. "No. What I want to say is, in three years I've had a lot of time to think and figure out all the things I did wrong, but also the things you did wrong, too, that led us to where we are now. So when I apologized today, it wasn't a spur of the moment thing as I processed new emotions. It was deep and honest, and frankly, very fucking hard for me. So I hope you do forgive me, I really do, for Harry's sake. And I want you to know there's a lot I've already forgiven you for, too, but just because we both apologized does not mean we're fixed. I can't forget about how you made me feel, and I don't want you to forget how you felt when you learned I kept Harry hidden from you, either. We can't just brush things aside."
"I get that—"
"I know you do, in theory. But I think we both need to live with our feelings for a bit, work out exactly what's in our heads, and figure out how to be honest with ourselves and with each other. There isn't a quick fix for this," Lily continued, studying him closely as she did.
James nodded, his eyes earnest, no sign of anger or resentment. "I agree."
"Good," Lily said. "Now we've made a start."
Lily and Harry stayed overnight at Hogwarts in a guest dormitory, Harry finally settling down and beginning to ask questions. He quite simply needed to know everything: where was Gemma, why they were here, when would they be going home, and of course, James. Questions Lily had thought she'd have more time to prepare herself for; after all, he was three. He had always know he had been loved and cherished, had adults in his life who made him a priority. He hadn't yet realized he was the only child in his class without a father; hadn't questioned why some kids had a mom and a dad while he just had Lily.
She wasn't dumb, Lily had rationalized. She had always know she'd have to tell him everything eventually. But that had been years down the road when he was emotionally ready to handle the weight of the information. Not at three.
So Lily had kept it light, explaining he had been busy protecting them from the bad man (not a total lie, she told herself, as technically he had been working for the Order), and Harry accepted it at that.
"Sort of like a super hero, huh?" He asked, little eyes round.
"Well-"Lily started, trying to think how to correct him.
"That's so cool. When can I see him again?" Harry asked with a big yawn as Lily put him in the bed they'd share that night, kissing his forehead.
"Tomorrow," she replied. "He's going with us back home to help pack, but then we're going to live with him for a bit."
This caused a brief wrinkle in his brow as Lily settled herself under the covers, drawing him in close. He's safe, she thought. He's in my arms, and he's breathing, and he's okay—
"Can I bring my fire truck? Seer-us said no one plays that here but I want to bring it anyway," Harry asked, his little eyes closing.
"Anything, love. You can bring anything you want," Lily reassured, playing with his hair until she heard the steadying sounds of his breathing, relaxing into her.
Lily stayed awake for a while, listening to his breathing, feeling his pulse through his t-shirt. This is enough, she thought. Tomorrow, there would be a million new problems, hurdles to figure out, uncharted territory to navigate. But tonight, knowing Harry was alive, that the immediate danger had passed, she drifted to sleep.
To say Lily was apprehensive as they landed with a firm thud in the familiar backyard of the hotel was an understatement. Despite all of his talk the night before, Harry was quite shy around James. James, for his part was trying, engaging Harry in conversation and trying to draw him out of his shell, but the looks Harry threw her way, constantly checking in with her, seemed to cause an air of defeat to hang over James' shoulders.
"Give it time," she whispered as they walked toward the back entrance.
James had nodded, but upon entering the hotel, the three had grown silent. The sight before her was—
"Oh my god," Lily breathed, seeing a hole through the kitchen wall, exposing the destroyed dining room, all the way to the front lobby. It looked as though part of the roof had collapsed, a small leak trickling down.
Pulling out his wand, James muttered a quick spell over the three of them, a protective charm, just in case anything fell. Lily's mouth hung open, tears coming back to her eyes as she wandered, Harry silent by her side.
"We can use the back stairs," Lily gestured to the stairs off the kitchen. "I'd like to see if I can get into our rooms. There's some things there that are important."
"Wait," James interjected, continuing to look around, moving from Lily's side to the front, where the damage was the worst. "This was where…?" He studied the scene, closing his eyes, taking a breath.
"Yeah, right there," Lily stated, feeling haunted.
James looked carefully, eyes trailing to the crumbling stairs, the hole in the ceiling. Taking his time, as if imagining the whole horrific scene.
Finally he nodded, and they made their way upstairs, solemnly, without speaking.
The positives of the hotel being fairly large was that the damage was rather contained to the front corner, leaving Lily and Harry's (and Gemma's, Lily's heart sank) relatively untouched. James transfigured the furniture into chests, and Lily set to work using packing charms to put away clothes, pictures, toys, blankets, anything that might help James' house feel like home for Harry. She had made her way to Gemma's room, leaving Harry with James to wrap up, and took a few more pictures, a few pieces of jewelry Gemma had always tried to pawn off on Lily ("Who am I wearing this for?" Lily had sassed. "Creepy Dave?"), when she suddenly felt James' presence beside her.
"Harry's pretty much good to go. He has so many animals," James said, a small smile overtaking his face. "Is that his favorite to play with? I thought he liked soccer, but Sirius mentioned trucks," he rubbed his face, as if figuring out Harry's favorite toy was an enigma he needed desperately to solve.
"Soccer was new. He just started this fall, so it's a recent phase. Trucks and animals have been lifelong favorites," Lily replied, absentmindedly playing with the framed picture in her hands.
James motioned to it, asking permission to see. It was of newborn Harry, wrapped in blankets with a giant beanie on his head. Eyes closed, he looked like a little doll.
"Two days old," Lily said, watching him as he stared down, reverently at the frame. "He was such a sweet baby," she continued, unsure if this would help them move forward or drag them back into the complexities of the past.
"He's perfect, Lil," James said, finally giving her a soft smile, handing the picture back.
"Keep it," Lily said. "Your first picture of him. You can put it on your nightstand, or desk at work, or whatever the other dads do these days," her tone light.
"I'll enlarge it into a banner, hang it outside the ministry," James said. "Or a flag. I could fly it over the house. It's my job to embarrass him right?"
"Oh, definitely," Lily agreed. "A flag and a banner, then."
Upon leaving the hotel, the three made their way into the little town, Harry happily pointing out various places they had visited and loved, half-sharing memories that Lily was certain James couldn't possibly follow, but he nodded along eagerly, asking questions, encouraging Harry to continue talking.
"That's my school!" Harry called out, pointing to the brick building, the cheerful little playground outside. "Am I going to school now, Mommy?"
"Not today, love," Lily said. "But maybe later we can see some of your friends and say hi. Why don't we take James for a hot chocolate?"
This earned a cheer from Harry as he sprinted ahead, making their way through the small town's square, still decked out with Halloween décor. It was unnerving, Lily thought. Thirty-six hours she had taken Harry trick or treating on this very same route, only for them to be back now with everything changed.
"I'm going to apologize in advance," Lily said, throwing James a smile as they pushed open the door to the town's coffee shop.
"Why's that?" James said.
Lily didn't need to explain, as the moment they walked into the door behind Harry, there was an immediate chorus of "LILY!"
Before her sat many of the stay-at-home moms from the town, children in school and husbands at work, leaving them with endless free hours. Lily also couldn't help but notice a few of the staff from the hotel were present, her spirts falling as she remembered that they all were out of work for the time being. She would have to find out about Gemma's will eventually, and see if they could arrange payment or something until decisions were made about the hotel. She didn't even know where to begin.
"Your great-grandfather with that long beard said you were in the hospital down in Wheeling," Suzanne said, coming over to her, along with a few other women, engulfing Lily in a cloud of White Rain hairspray and self-tanner. "Why didn't you call for us to come get you? I could have sent Bobby—"
"You poor little dear," Lily heard another, Meg, croon.
"Poor Gemma," said Valerie, squeezing Lily's arm.
"You shouldn't be up walking around," Suzanne chimed in again. "Sit. Tell us everything. Were you close by when the gas explosion happened? It must have been awful!"
"Yes," Lily started, but didn't get far.
"Jeee-sus, Lil," Angie suddenly appeared, pressing a large cup in her hands. "Who is this?" She asked, giving James a long look up and down.
Harry, however, answered for her. "That's my dad, except he didn't know he was my dad because he was off fighting the bad man to keep us safe," He said from where he was perched on the table, someone having set him up there and handing him a large cookie. "And now we're going to live with him."
Lily braced herself as the women took a collective inhale and immediately began raining questions down on her.
"But—"
"Always said you were a widow—"
"I had no idea, if I had known I would have told Creepy Dave to back off—"
"Looks just like Harry, my Lord!"
"When did this—"
"How did this—"
"Alright!" Lily finally called out over the fray. "This is James. And yes, he is Harry's father. We thought he was dead, but he's clearly not. He was— she thought quickly, the lie coming to her in a flash, "Special Ops for the military. Disappeared on a mission. We reconnected not long ago."
The women, usually full of chatter, were momentarily silenced.
"Well, I'll be," Angie said. "God, if he isn't a sight for sore eyes after all these years, huh, Lil?"
Lily blushed but did not answer, but could not help but see James visibly inflate. His ego will be unbearable, Lily thought, but without malice. She observed him for a moment as the women flocked to him, offering him hot beverages, bringing him pastries, forcing him into a seat for his own interrogation. He was fit, fit, she thought. Dark hair tousled to perfection, olive skin flawless. His hazel eyes, one of her favorite features, were obscured behind stylish round glasses, his jaw strong, but slightly clenched, giving away his unease with the attention. He wore a navy sweater, which pulled across his shoulders, highlighting his broad, developed shoulders, large hands accepting the drink forced upon him. He tossed her a panicked look.
Rather than stepping in, Lily made her way to the counter to say hello to the owner, Maggie, a kind older woman who had been a good friend of Gemma's.
"How are you holding up, Maggie?" she asked, leaning on the counter.
"It's awful, isn't it," she said, eyes sad. "She was the best of us."
"Too true," Lily said, eyes filling slightly.
"She loved you," Maggie said, reaching across to squeeze her arm. "And Harry, too. Would have given anything for you, to see you happy."
Lily didn't respond, Maggie's statement hitting a little too close to home for her, tears stinging her eyes, throat closing with emotion.
Understanding her silence, Maggie topped off her drink before continuing. "Doug and Angie are going to have a little get-together tonight, something for all of her friends to get together to remember her. She didn't want a funeral, would have loathed it, but didn't feel right not to do anything. I'm glad you'll be there, with Harry."
"We'll be there," Lily said, nodding.
"Of course you will. Do you really think that pack of hyenas are going to let your fella leave without plying him with alcohol and torturing the both of you more?"
"Oh, he's not—"
"See you at seven, Lil," Maggie said, moving away to refill drinks elsewhere in the shop.
Making her way back to James and Harry, she could hear Suzanne launching into a long story about a time Harry had gotten sick and Lily had been in a panic he needed to go to the hospital.
"So I told her, Lil, sweets, babies get sick. As long as his fever stays below 103—"
"I thought it was 102," Meg interjected.
"Whatever. I told her my babies would run a fever all the time, no need to worry, but Lily was insistent. Carried Harry to the hospital by herself, mind you, only to find out it was a little cold."
"I was a new mom!" Lily defended herself, sliding into the empty seat offered to her. "How would I know?"
"Well point is, James," Suzanne continued, "She took the best care of your little guy while you were away."
James gave a chuckle and a nod, shooting Lily a smile, but she noticed it did not stretch all the way to his eyes. The conversation continued to flow after, with more stories about Harry and Lily, as well as random tidbits from the town the last few days. Soon, the ladies started to disperse, with promises to see each other in a few hours at Angie's.
From there, they stopped by Harry's school as it was letting out, allowing Harry to see his friends and play on the playground. James, for his part, jumped right in, pushing Harry on the swing, chasing him down the slide.
It all felt so domestic, Lily thought. Almost like they had become an instant family, despite her warning to James. She tried to enjoy the moment seeing her son so happy, but being back here, the specter of the hotel, the lack of Gemma's presence, crushed Lily. It was too much, too fast.
She allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts as the two played, Harry's friends joining in as more parents from the class drifted over to offer condolences, ask questions, setting the town's gossip mill ablaze, Lily was sure.
All too soon it was time to head over to Doug and Angie's, and Lily noticed the house was packed. It wasn't a surprise—Gemma had been everyone's favorite, well, everything, when she had been alive. Lily could practically see her here, in her element, flitting around from group to group, saving the gossip for later to debrief with Lily over a glass of wine.
The three were almost immediately engulfed again by more friends, people who knew Gemma well and had helped to raise Harry, raise Lily, people who had put their stamp on her heart.
"Drink this," James said, handing her a mason jar, and Lily took a sniff and recognized the moonshine instantly. "Some guy named Dave just gave it to me and made it seem like I'm a proper wanker if I don't finish it, but I have never tasted something worse in my life. And that includes Bertie Bott's."
Lily stifled a giggle. "That," she said knowingly, "is Creepy Dave. And he is most certainly trying to make you pass out early."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because he has a huge crush on Lily," Meg said, coming over to put an arm around Lily. "And I mean, hello? Who wouldn't? But you know that, James. Your wife is a smoke show. As if she'd actually be single—who would let her go once they have her?"
Lily forced a laugh but felt James stiffen beside her. Thankfully, Harry diffused the situation, running over with a book that belonged to one of Angie and Doug's gaggle of kids.
"Mommy, look! This is just like mine!"
Lily eyed the book, The Velveteen Rabbit. Harry had gone through a long phase of that being his favorite, with Gemma and Lily taking turns reading it time after time, over and over.
"Can I see it?" James asked, crouching down to Harry's level.
"No!" Harry said forcefully drawing it back.
"Harry-"Lily corrected, her tone warning.
"Only Mommy reads me my bedtime book. Mommy or Gemma. And you can't make me go to bed, either!"
"Harry!" Lily scolded, taken back by his attitude. "I'm sorry James, I'm sure this is just a lot for him—"
"No," James said, standing. "I get it." He gave Harry's hair a quick tousle, before turning to Lily. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll catch up later."
Lily watched him go, nerves gnawing at her. She forced them aside, to be dealt with later. She, much like Harry, felt like this was all a little bit too much for her. She was grieving herself, for Christ's sake, mourning the closest person in her life, preparing to say goodbye to her friends who had become family, all the while trying to figure out how to insert James into Harry's life, into her life. If James had his feelings hurt, he would need to work through this bit on his own.
And so she continued to socialize, sharing favorite memories and laughs, as well as shedding a fair few tears as the night wore on. Eventually, she caught sight of the time, and sighing, started to make her many goodbyes, accepting hugs and promises to stay in touch.
"But Lily," Valerie said. "Where on earth are you staying?"
Lily paused, thinking, but unable to come up with a solution. Somehow she didn't think the best answer was to say they would be using their magical powers to use a magical transportation device to go back to a magical castle in Scotland.
"Oh," she said. "I hadn't even thought—"
"Oooh! I have the best idea!" Suzanne's voice cut through. "You can use mine and Bobby's lake house!"
"Their love shack, she means," Angie said, waggling her brows at Lily.
"Oh no, we couldn't, with Harry—"
"There's plenty of space and a really, big bed," Suzanne said, her voice sing-songy. "Perfect for a little romantic reunion. And Harry would have his own room, far away, so he wouldn't hear—"
"It wouldn't be like that," Lily said. "We aren't, I mean, we're not—"
"I insist. Here, take this bottle of wine," Angie said, crossing over the make-shift bar and handing Lily her favorite bottle of red. "You two have a lot of catching up to do."
Unsure what else to do, Lily accepted and began rounding up Harry and James. With promises to stop by the coffee shop in the morning before they left for the "airport" ("No, Dave," Lily had said, exasperated. "You do not need to drive me. I'm literally never getting in your car"), the trio started the walk to the lake house.
A short while later, Harry in the master bed that he would share with Lily, she all but collapsed on the large sofa in the family room and mindlessly flicked on the television. Glass of wine poured, she allowed herself to close her eyes and she rubbed her neck, willing the tension to leave her body.
"Tired?" James said, sinking onto the couch a few spaces away from her. It hit Lily then, all at once, that they were alone, for the first time since they had reunited. She felt the knots she had been trying to work out become instantly tight again.
"Exhausted," she said. "I'm going to finish this wine and then I'm passing out. Hopefully Harry will sleep in tomorrow morning," she tacked on optimistacally.
"Well, even if he doesn't, I can watch him in the morning. What does he like for breakfast?"
"Oh, no," Lily said, waving her hand casually. "No need. I'll get up with him, I'm used to it."
James' jaw clenched again and he let out a slight huff of breath.
"What?" Lily asked, raising a brow.
"What do you mean, what?" James replied. Here we go, Lily thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
"You're clearly pissed off about something, and seeing as I just put one toddler to bed, I'd rather not deal with another temper tantrum. Out with it, what's bothering you?" She said, keeping her tone light, but being direct nonetheless.
"It's just, I didn't exactly need yet another reminder that I know nothing about my son or that I'm basically intruding on your life."
Lily let out a little laugh. "Did I say that?"
"No, but since we got here it's been story after story, comment after comment. It hasn't exactly been easy, you know," he said, his gaze level.
"What do you want me to say, James?" Lily responded, putting down her wine glass. "You don't really know him, haven't been around—"
"Yeah, and who's fault is that, Lily?"
"I've apologized and accepted my responsibility for that already, James. I can apologize again, or we can get to the root of the matter. What, exactly, is bothering you?"
Her words hung in the air, a challenge. James looked at her long and hard before picking up her discarded wine glass and taking a gulp.
"I felt like an idiot today," James finally spoke, voice quiet. "There is a whole town of people who know Harry, who know you, better than I do. And I know—"he said, raising a brow at Lily as she opened her mouth to respond, "I know, with time I will know Harry. But seeing you both here, your life that you built, I'm sad that I missed that. And angry with myself."
"Okay," Lily said, leaning toward him slightly. "Go, on."
"If I hadn't been so terrible, if I had been better, I could have been here with you. Or, well, maybe not here, exactly, because honestly, Meg pinched my bum like five times, but somewhere. And even if we weren't together together, I would have still been a part of everything. I fucked us up."
Lily didn't answer, but sighed, leaning back into the cushions, closing her eyes. She had no idea what to say because he was right; his feelings were valid, and while she was sympathetic, she knew she couldn't erase that. Lily was well-versed in guilt, in the what-ifs, in analyzing every choice she made, every sentence she spoke, in order to determine how things could have been different.
"I think," she finally spoke, opening her eyes to see James staring blankly at the television. "I think you have had an incredibly emotionally upheaving two days. And I'm glad you told me how today made you feel. It's like I said, no quick fix, but I appreciate the communication. And I'm sorry for the part I played in making you feel that way."
"Do you think he likes me?" James said a little sadly, but hope present in his tone.
"Yes, of course. Harry will come around, I promise," Lily said. "He thinks you're a super hero. You're already way cooler in his eyes than I ever have been."
"Nah," James said. "You're his whole world. He worships you. I get it," he said, a little bashfully. "You're different now. More confident. Happier, I think, overall. It's a good look on you."
Lily felt her cheeks warm a bit, but didn't respond, allowing the silence to stretch. She could feel her eyes closing a bit when suddenly, one of Harry's screams broke the moment.
"MOMMY!" He shrieked, his voice laced with a sob.
Lily was on her feet in an instant, sprinting up the stairs and into his room, James on her heels. Her heart raced, already imagining the worst case scenario. He's back, she thought. Voldemort's back—
But as she entered the room, all she saw was Harry, and after James cast a few spells, reality sunk in. It was a nightmare.
"Shhh, love, it's alright," she whispered, pulling Harry onto her lap as she sat on the bed, stroking his tear stained cheeks. "Just a bad dream."
"I saw the bad man, and he was coming for us again and—"
"Shhh, Harry, I know. It was so scary, I know, but it's over, he's gone, shhhh," she comforted, snuggling Harry to her chest, raising her eyes to meet James', seeing the same pity, the same worry that her own probably reflected. Her poor son, she thought. She was not surprised he was having nightmares, she knew that was probably inevitable, but she had no idea how to fix this, how to make him feel safe.
After rocking and cuddling Harry for what felt like an hour, he finally quieted, but still clung to Lily as if his life depended on it.
"Mommy, stay with me?" he asked, his voice little, sleepy.
"Of course," she said, pulling back the covers and nestling inside. James made to move to the door and hit the lights, whispering a faint "Good night," as he backed away.
"Wait!" Harry called. "Sandwich hug."
"Oh," Lily thought, feeling instantly awkward. "Harry, James doesn't know about sandwich hugs."
"Show me," James said, re-entering the room. "I mean, if that's okay," he said, deferring to Lily.
Sandwich hugs were something Lily and Gemma had done with Harry when he had been particularly difficult to put down, with both lying on either side of him and encasing them in their arms, like a sandwich. On nights he felt especially insecure (usually due to illness or injury), he became desperate for the comfort they provided.
"Lie down," Lily instructed, and hesitantly, so hesitantly, James got under the covers as Lily instructed him to put his chest against Harry's back, draping his arms over him.
James was stiff at first, sliding his arm over Harry but making sure to not touch Lily. She could feel the front of sweater where her arms were still wrapped around Harry, but otherwise, they had no physical contact. Eventually, however, she felt his arm make its way to her lower back, pulling both she and Harry toward him more, relaxing into the embrace.
"You don't have to stay after he falls asleep," Lily whispered as she mentally counted Harry's breaths.
"Lil," James breathed, voice so quiet. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
As Lily felt herself succumbing to sleep, she could have sworn she felt soothing circles on her back as Harry snuggled deeper into her chest, tucking his head beneath her chin, the three of them safe in their cocoon, together.