Hello lovelies!
I said I was taking a break, I know I did. So how about for the foreseeable future, we can assume I'll post part II chapters randomly. There was one scene in this chapter that I needed to finish off, and once I did, I thought, why not share it?
Besides, maybe it's better like this, cause Part II...is quite intense. Regardless I would like to apologise profusely for this one. It broke my heart a little.
NOTE: Aperio basically means to open in latin for reference later on in this chapter.
Please leave a review and let me know what you think x
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
"If there ever comes a day
when we can't be together,
keep me in your heart,
I'll stay there forever."
-Winnie the Pooh
At James's impromptu meeting with Albus Dumbledore a month ago, the two men came up with a tentative plan. The Potters would move into the house in Godric's Hollow as soon as possible, as things would get more complicated the closer it got to Lily's due date. As it was, she was forbidden from apparition of any kind unless absolutely necessary; it was extremely risky for her and the baby.
A warm summer breeze tousled James Potter's unruly hair, and he stood in front of his house, arms folded over his chest, and he shifted restlessly from foot-to-foot. Dumbledore was standing beside the younger wizard, his arms clasped behind his back as he stared up at the bright, azure sky. He was trying to make shapes out of the fluffy clouds.
"I know the past year has been difficult for you, with the disappearance of your siblings, and with the prophecy—"
"Siblings?" James asked hollowly. He looked up at his former Headmaster with a peculiar, troubled expression as if he was mentally at war trying to recall something important. "Sir…I don't have siblings."
It took Dumbledore a moment, but then he soberly recalled the few details Hermione and Draco had shared with him when they were carving their runes. They'd succeeded, the two Potters had erased their existence from the minds of their peers. However, the enchantments Dumbledore had cast on his own mind, protected him from their spell.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "sorry, my boy…slip of the tongue, my mistake."
James frowned, but nodded dully. He blinked and a crystal clarity swept over his eyes. "Sorry, Sir. What were we talking about?"
"Your secret keeper," Dumbledore said with a serene smile."You've chosen Sirius Black?"
"No, Sirius refused. He thinks that his position at the Ministry makes him too vulnerable."
"Mister Black is staying on as an Auror?" Dumbledore asked, as if he didn't already know the answer.
"Moody is reassigning him a new partner next week since I am on leave for the foreseeable future. Sirius keeps on insisting he'll be fine, since he doesn't have a wife or children to worry about protecting."
"Well, in that case, who is your secret keeper?"
James smiled softly, meeting the elder man's eye and said, "Peter Pettigrew."
Lily Potter was set to give birth sometime next week, and Sirius was expressing his sentiments on their name choices.
Early that morning, in order to deal with some of the panic and stress he was enduring, James thought to make some lemonade as a treat for his wife and friends. Lily had downed two glasses already, and she was reclining in a rocking chair on the back porch. Her eyes were closed and she was dutifully ignoring her boys.
The half-full pitcher was on the short, round table beside the woman, and a couple glasses surrounded it.
Sirius refilled his tall glass, and took a small drink before gazing down at the woman he considered a sister. "Harry? Really? Which one of you picked that, and why wasn't I consulted beforehand?"
James's smile faltered for a minute. He was sitting on the top step, facing towards the house, his own glass—full of lemonade—in hand. A bead of condensation ran down the glass's side and hit his finger.
James glanced down at his glass—at the finely-sliced, slivers of lemon bobbing amongst the ice-cubes and tart but sweetened liquid—and could not recall how or when they had picked the name Harry.
Lily pried open an eye, and dismissively waved a hand at Sirius. "You just wanted us to name him after you, or something equally as ridiculous!"
Sirius placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be affronted by her statement. "Why I never. My name is bloody brilliant. The boy would be blessed to share it."
James's smile didn't reach his eyes as he nodded at his best mate. James raised his glass to his lips, and the moment the glass touched his flesh, a voice echoed in his ear.
"Whether I remember or not, you're always going to be my brother."
James's brow drew together in befuddlement but the more he tried to concentrate on the thought, the more it blurred out of focus.
Harry James Potter was born on the thirty-first of July, nineteen eighty, and James fell in love instantly. It wasn't the same, doe-eyed infatuation he'd held for Lily upon seeing her for the first time at Kings Cross station. This was stronger, more absolute, and James knew he would do anything to protect his son.
Outside the walls of their 'home' the mounting pressure and burden of the war progressively got heavier and heavier. Voldemort's power was growing at a frightening rate. And the threat directed at the newly born Potter was no longer an intangible concept but a harrowing reality.
August brought warmer days but crisper nights, and James often sat in deep ponderance on the steps of the back porch at dawn, staring at their compact backyard. Lily would come find him, gather a blanket around him and coax her husband back inside.
Harry was generally a delight, but he was still a newborn, and his cries racketed through the night as he tried to communicate his various needs. James and Lily were exhausted, and it was only the frequent visits of their friends that helped them maintain any semblance of sanity.
James was strewn across one of the black leather armchairs in the living room with Midnight lying across his torso; James was scratching behind the feline's ears and she purred approvingly back at him. Remus was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and Sirius was pacing the length of the room, cradling the sleeping infant in his arms, rocking him back and forth and humming lowly.
Sirius glanced over at James, and narrowed his eyes in disdain at the cat who, as he saw it, was smirking smugly at him. "The beast hates me. Where in Godric's name did you get it again?"
"Can't remember," James murmured, shrugging. He was exhausted, and while he loved his son, he was all too happy to let his Godfather take care of him for a little bit. "I know I've had her for years…Mum or Dad probably gave her to me when I started Hogwarts."
"Why would they have done that? Didn't you already have a grey owl as your familiar?" Sirius wondered aloud.
James's brow furrowed and his lips twisted in confusion. "Padfoot, I never had an owl. I always used one of the school's."
"Right," Sirius said, but from his tone, it was apparent he was not convinced.
"What are we talking about?" Lily asked as she entered the room. She'd twisted her crimson hair into a chaotic bun on top of her head, and she was wearing an oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt that had slipped off one shoulder, and a pair of black knickers. She tiredly rubbed at her eye as she trotted over to James.
James shifted into an upright position—the leather squeaking as he moved—and Midnight hopped off of him, heading directly for Remus. She curled up beside Remus, and he gently stroked the length of the feline with a tiny smile. It was strange that the werewolf and cat liked each other so much, and none of them understood it.
Lily crawled into James's lap, and sagged into him. She yawned widely, and her eyes partially closed from the force of it. James pressed a kiss to the side of Lily's head and wrapped his arms around her.
No one had answered Lily's prior question, but Remus cleared his throat and grabbed everyone's attention. "Does anyone ever get the feeling that there are things missing? Important things missing from your memories?" Remus asked quietly.
James sighed, and he languidly stroked the outside of Lily's bare thigh. "Every day," James confessed. Remus turned a keen eye on him, the hazel melted into amber and gold, and he silently urged James to go on.
James outstretched a hand, his surroundings blurred, and he whispered, "it's just beyond my grasp. I can't reach it, I can't touch it."
"Maybe it means we're getting old," Sirius said with a light shrug. He gazed down at the artfully swaddled babe in his arms, and cooed softly at Harry as he roused from his nap. "Especially you, Papa Stag."
"If that's what it is, then I'd hate to find out how I get on when I'm older than a century," James smirked wistfully, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story.
Soft snores whistled from the slumbering man's nostrils. His glasses were askew on his face, his mouth partly open. One hand was spread across his son's back: Harry was peacefully asleep on his Father's chest, his tiny hands curled into fists on either side of his head, and his tongue peeked out of his mouth.
Lily strolled into the living room, a hand over her mouth as she yawned. Sleep crusted her eyes, and she smiled tiredly at the quaint sight before her. Harry had been fussing all night, and James offered to walk Harry around the backyard until he fell asleep.
Lily adjusted the waistband of her satin, pale pink shorts and strode over to her husband and son. She noticed the messy pile of plushies in the corner of the room on her way, but with a happy shake of her head she ignored it.
Lily braced a hand on the couch arm and knelt on the ground in front of her boys. She stroked the hair off James's forehead, and caressed his face lovingly. She errantly traced a small scar over his left eyebrow.
Lily dropped her chin onto the couch cushion, and she reached over to brush the backs of her fingers over Harry's chubby cheek. Lily whispered, "you are loved, Little Fawn. Never forget that."
The vibrant beauty of fall was brief, and the multi-coloured leaves hastily blew off the trees and gathered on the ground. James and Lily took turns raking the yard.
The bitter morning air twisted in through the kitchen window, but Lily was bundled up in a warm, cable-knit sweater, black sweatpants and James's fuzzy pink socks.
Lily Potter hummed 'Life On Mars?' By David Bowie as she flitted about the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
Lily had just finished adding the remainder of the dry ingredients to the wet ones, and she picked up the stainless steel bowl and cradled it against her, and with the other she held a whisk. She was about to whisk the ingredients together when a voice came from the door.
"That smells good," Remus said. The werewolf stayed over the night prior; when he wasn't spying on the werewolf packs he was either at Lupin Den or using the guest bedroom in Godric's Hollow.
Sirius and Remus often missed one another these days, and they only saw each other on the rare occasion; their schedules never aligned.
Remus was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest, smiling. The wispy silhouette of another wizard who was almost as tall as Remus was standing in the doorway beside the werewolf.
"What?" Lily blinked blankly. Remus strode into the room, and the silhouette faded to dust and was swept away by another flutter of her lashes.
"Do you need any help?" Remus asked. Lily placed the bowl on the counter, and dropped the whisk into it.
Lily nodded listlessly. "Yes, I could use some help. It would be lovely actually. Thank you my sweet Moon."
"Hullo, is anyone home?" Sirius sang as he entered the house. Of course they were, they weren't allowed to leave after all, but he thought he'd try to lighten things up a little.
It was almost Christmas, and the streets outside were covered in several inches of white, fluffy snow. Sirius stamped the cold out of his feet, and blew warmth into his slightly chilled hands.
"Sirius?" Lily's voice echoed from upstairs. With light footfalls and quick feet, the witch appeared at the top of the staircase in moments.
Sirius removed his black leather boots, placed them besides the door, and proceeded to take off his leather jacket and scarf as he watched his friend.
Lily was holding Harry to her chest, and all her previous energy drained out of her. She tiredly descended the stairs and Sirius barely got a greeting in before Lily handed Harry to him.
Thankfully, Harry wasn't jostled too much, and his little hands sleepily grasped at air. Lily snatched the pastel pink cloth off her shoulder, and laid it across Sirius's.
"Thank Morgana you're here. Take him, I need a nap," Lily said haggardly. She leant over to press a kiss to Sirius's cheek before she turned on her heel and sluggishly headed back up the stairs.
Harry smacked his lips together and blearily stared up at his Godfather. The baby's gaze was unfocused. When he was born, Harry's eyes were a deep blue, but swirls of emerald green had started to appear in his irises over the last few weeks.
"Hey there, Little Fawn, your parents are clearly knackered. You're an exhausting rascal aren't you?"
Sirius patted Harry's bum affectionately, and the boy snapped out of his drowsy state. Soon, he was gurgling happily up at Sirius, and reached out towards the man's shoulder-length raven hair.
"I suppose that means you're already taking after your Dad, but, don't be fooled, your Mum is quite the spitfire when she's ready," Sirius informed Harry in a matter-of-fact fashion. Harry responded with a soft noise, and Sirius took it as agreement.
Harry's hair was thickening every day, and he currently had a head of fine, soft, raven curls.
Sirius shifted the boy in his arms so he was holding Harry beneath his bum, and he was cradling his head and he gazed directly into his eyes.
"Don't worry Little Fawn, I promise, we're going to keep you safe."
Harry smiled at him, all gums and pink mouth. A little drool came out the side of his mouth, and Sirius adjusted the boy and used the cloth on his shoulder to wipe it up.
"Alright, mate. While your Mummy and Daddy get their rest, what shall we do?" Sirius asked aloud. "I think we should play with the new toy I got you."
Sirius strolled through the compact entryway into the living room and headed to the centre of it. He knelt down and carefully placed Harry on the carpeted floor. Harry's feet were half-bent and his arms were stretched towards Sirius.
Sirius fished in his pocket until he found the smooth, round object. Sirius retrieved it, and grinned toothily as a flash of gold glinted in his hand. Harry made a happy noise and Sirius's grin grew brighter.
"You like that, don't you?" Sirius came up with quite the nifty idea the other day. It was a toy version of the golden snitch on the end of some thin but strong black twine. (It was smaller and only activated in five minute intervals before it went dormant.)
"Aperio," Sirius whispered, and the snitch's wings unfurled. It whizzed right above Harry, and the boy's eyes tracked it and reached out, grasping for the snitch.
"That's our boy. Who knows, maybe by this time next year, we'll have you flying round on a training room," Sirius smirked, knowing Lily would castrate him if he tried.
Harry's legs kicked about as he tried to catch the snitch that perpetually evaded his grasp. Eventually, Harry was tuckered out and his eyes drooped and his arms fell to either side of his head. Sirius gently patted his stomach, warmth flooding his veins.
Sirius laid on his side, curled around Harry, and he propped his head up in his hand and stared out one of the windows across the room. The sky was a greyish-blue, and snow cascaded from the dark, wispy clouds.
Sirius's eyes fluttered shut and a whiff of chamomile and vanilla wafted into his nose, and steady fingers stroked backwards through his hair. A girl was reaching out to him, her features a blur, but she had raven curls.
"Don't you ever say you aren't good enough again, Sirius Black."
Sirius heard her voice sometimes, along with others, but he kept that fact to himself because he would sound quite mad if he began rambling about the voices in his head. Perhaps it was the Black madness afflicting him.
Wouldn't that just be miserable, if that's what it is, Sirius thought glumly as his eyes pried open and he gazed at the snow. The Black madness.
"Do we really need to send a gift to Petty Petunia, and Violently Purple Vermont?" James asked. "Their son was born at the end of June last year."
(James and Lily found out about Dudley Dursley a couple weeks ago from Dumbledore, he mentioned it passing during a brief visit when he gave them a briefing of current affairs. He'd 'forgotten' to mention it before.)
"Petty Petunia, and Violently Purple Vermont?" Lily asked in amusement. She peered up at him from the cake she was frosting.
James was leaning back against the counter beside where his wife was working. And a few feet away, Harry was sitting in his high-chair, hands gleefully smacking the moving, enchanted images of snitches and broomsticks printed on his food tray. James smirked at the sight.
"I have to do something with my time. Unfortunately, coming up with fun nicknames for my in-laws, is about as interesting as it gets these days," James sighed. He absently threw the snitch in his hands forward, and caught it quickly before it got too far away.
James paused, held his breath and stole a glance at his wife. She looked unperturbed by his statement, but regardless, he sheepishly tacked on, "aside from spending time with my beautiful wife and child of course."
Lily rolled her eyes and skimmed over his last comment. "I will never know how you got that snitch, considering you were never a Seeker." Lily shook her head, bright green eyes locked on her cake as she smoothed the top until it looked practically seamless. The frosting was dusty pink; Lily was baking her own birthday cake since she didn't have many other options.
(James was in charge of dinner, and the other Marauders were meant to come round later and bring alcohol with them.)
"Easy, that's cause Dr—" James cut himself off. The thought twisted, and he forgot what he was going to say.
"That's cause…?" Lily hadn't noticed James's blunder as she was too focused on the task at hand. Proudly, she stepped back from the cake, and assessed it slowly. It was a three-tiered lemon cake with vanilla buttercream frosting between each layer. The same frosting was on the outside of the cake, but Lily had incrementally folded in red dye until it turned the pretty pink colour.
"Probably nicked it off our Seeker," James recovered smoothly. He tucked the snitch into his pocket, and strode over to Harry.
The boy was babbling loudly and ecstatically, and even though James understood none of it, it brought him indescribable joy. It brightened the house, which was a feat considering how trapped Lily and James were feeling these days.
James was mentally fatigued, there's a knot in his shoulder that Lily promised to massage out later, but their son was happy and healthy, so it wasn't all bad.
With the turn of the year, and the drudgery of monotonous winter—it'd lost its sparkle this year—plaguing the young couple, they were slowly being driven mad. Many nights, they awake in bed, tracing each other's skin, lingering on their tattoos and discussing a future outside of this house.
"You never told me. Why a Hungarian Horntail?" Lily whispered against James's inked flesh one night, placing a small kiss to his skin that sent a shiver up his spine.
The dragon was meant to symbolise both Hermione and Draco Potter. Female dragons were larger, and there were a few select characteristics that differentiated the sexes; it was reflected in the tattoo. And of course the obvious, it was a homage to Draco's name.
James Potter did not recall the reasoning behind that particular tattoo that night, and with pursed lips he shrugged in the darkness. He did recall feeling uninspired during the tattoo session.
"Not sure, love. I don't think there was much meaning to that one. The other tattoo is for Mum and Dad like you know…I probably just thought it looked cool."
James missed his familial home. For a myriad of reasons, but sometimes in the dead, small hours of the night, he guiltily thought to himself, at least that prison was bigger.
"Then…we complete each other." James pondered the strange phrase. He'd said it years ago, but he couldn't recall to whom, when or why.
"James?" Remus asked.
James snapped to attention, head jerking upwards as he looked at his two best mates. It was a rare occasion where Remus and Sirius were visiting at the same time. (Peter had been by earlier in the week, but he hadn't stayed for long and he was uneasy holding Harry. James shrugged it off as nerves.)
"You alright, mate?" Sirius asked.
"Yea, course. Just spaced out for a second," James replied. The three men formed a misshapen circle around Harry, who was crawling towards Remus with seemingly intent purpose.
When he reached Remus, the man scooped the boy into his arms, holding onto him firmly, his hands tucked under Harry's armpits. Remus pulled a funny face and Harry giggled.
Sirius gifted Harry with a snake plushie a couple weeks ago as a way to poke fun at James, but much to his immediate horror it became Harry's new favourite thing. He refused to go anywhere without it, and James often found him babbling nonsensical at it. Slinky had to be within the boy's line of sight or Harry would start fussing until he got him.
Lily said it served them right with a bright laugh. Sirius just prayed it didn't mean the boy was bound for Slytherin house.
"How is Lily doing?" Sirius asked softly as to not rouse the witch in question. She was several feet away, taking a nap on the leather couch and bundled under a pale blue, knitted blanket.
"She hasn't hexed me this week, so I'd say she's swell," James joked. (Lily hadn't hexed him in a long time.)
"Well, that's something," Remus teased. Remus adjusted his hold on Harry so that the boy was balanced against his hip and his arm was wrapped around him protectively.
The call of the pack thrummed in Remus's veins as if Harry was his own; Harry was born into the pack, and thus Moony had claimed him as theirs. There was a thin, golden thread that extended from Harry to Remus and Sirius, and it wasn't as strong as the rest of the pack's bond, but they were sure it would grow over time.
Sirius cocked his head to the side and stared intently at Harry. The boy was patting his hands against his head and making happy noises. "Prongs…I have an idea."
Remus's eyes widened and he shook his head uneasily. They all recognised the look Sirius got in his eyes when an insane idea slipped into his conscious stream of thought. It almost never ended well.
Eleven minutes later, Sirius sat back proudly and admired his handiwork. James was shaking his head and muttering under his breath, 'my wife is going to kill me'. Remus's mouth was open in awe as he held Harry's head up.
Harry's head swivelled back and forth, and his hands were rubbing against the short, rounded antlers sprouting from his scalp. Sirius clapped his hands together in triumph. The sharp, sudden sound roused Lily Potter from her nap.
The witch's eyes pried open, as if her eyelids were stuck together and it was laborious parting them. She blinked blearily at the scene before her for several moments, and under her breath she mumbled raspily, "I am going to close my eyes again, and when I do, those better be gone." She did as she promised, and when the antlers were not gone the second time around, Lily shot upwards into an upright position and threw her blanket off of herself.
Lily gaped at her husband and her best friends, and bellowed terrifyingly, "you did not give my baby, ANTLERS!"
"Actually," Sirius raised a finger, "we did."
Remus and James both shot him incredulous looks, and before James could open his mouth to explain or apologise, Lily dove forward to grab her wand from the coffee table in front of her. A blink later, and Sirius was howling, rolling around on the ground and clutching his stomach. Lily'd employed a swift stinging hex.
"The fuck, witch. What is it with you Potter women and choosing violence as your first option." Sirius whinged, dramatically curling into a ball on his side.
Sirius's use of 'women' instead of 'woman' went unnoticed by everyone. If it hadn't, they most likely would've deciphered it as a reference to Dorea Potter. However, another witch was on Sirius's mind in that moment, but as always, he immediately forgot all about her.
Saturday, October 31st, 1981
Godric's Hollow, UK
Halloween
"Take Harry and go!"
As soon as the words left James's mouth, the feeling that had been niggling at the back of his mind for over a year, ripped open a part of his mind that had been hidden and locked away.
"He's going to live. He's going to be safe, Jamie," a warm voice assured him and James smiled; it was the voice of his brother, Draco Potter.
"Avada Kedavra!" James saw the red eyes coldly assessing him, and the flash of green light that soared his way too quickly to dodge. But then, daffodils, spring and warmth enveloped him.
"He's going to be okay, Jamie." The words kissed his ear in a gentle caress, and the last thing James saw was bright, glowing images of his siblings beside him, their arms looped through his, radiantly grinning.
James Potter died with a smile on his face.