Disclaimer: Still not Rowling. That'd be creepy to wake up this morning and be her!
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Sunday, May 24, 1981
James and Lily were sitting on their couch in Godric's Hollow. Lily had just put Harry down for a nap, and he had been very good about it today. James had tuckered him out, and he was thankful that afterwards, Harry had lain in his mother's arms, asleep before she even put him in his crib.
"Thank you for making my job easier," she laughed as she snuggled up to her husband. "You know how hard it is to get him to fall asleep sometimes."
James kissed the top of her head, her curly red hair tickling his nose. "Glad to be of service," he joked. "Harry's a good boy."
"Yes, he is," Lily agreed fondly.
They sat there for a while, enjoying the silence of the house. James was always thankful for the time with his family that he got. Every moment with them was precious, and he truly cherished his wife and his little man, as he always called Harry.
Lily let out an exhausted sigh, and James immediately grew concerned. Every time she made a sound like that, he knew she was worrying again - not that he was any better. It was rare for the couple to completely relax - after all, they were the parents of Lord Voldemort's prime target. James sometimes wondered if Harry ever picked up on their fear - he desperately hoped not. They played with him, spoke to him, kissed and cuddled him, and showed him all the love they had in their hearts. They treasured every moment they had with him. They didn't want him to ever notice how much they feared for him.
A few weeks ago, Lily had come home from work and told James about what she'd read concerning goblin magic. She had been hoping to find some more concrete information so she could give a report to the Order. But so far, she had been disappointed.
James knew she despised her boss, Kathryn Templeton, but she was ready to do anything to find the information she sought. Therefore, Lily had asked her if there were any more papers or books on the subject. Unfortunately, Ms. Templeton had not taken well to her asking. She was supposed to do the work she was assigned, and that was that. Lily needed some other way to find out what she wanted to know, but at first, she wasn't sure how. Unlike Muggles, witches and wizards didn't have public libraries where you could seek out information. Of course, there were bookstores like Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, and Lily had already taken a trip there. However, she was unimpressed with what she found. There was some basic information, but it was even less knowledge than what she had gained at work.
Many of the rich pureblood families owned a lot of books; Sirius's family was one of them. Sirius had told James and Lily that as a boy, he had been forced to read Nature's Nobility, which he described as nothing more than "filthy pureblood rubbish". The Black library also included many dark tomes as well, and according to him, the magic in them was not to be spoken of. "Some of those books are truly vile," he'd said, shuddering. "I bet Voldemort read a bunch of them."
At the last Order meeting, Lily had asked Sirius whether he had any relevant material about goblin magic. Sirius, knowing Lily certainly wasn't joking if she was asking about the Black library, had agreed to ask Kreacher to peruse it, even though he was more than reluctant to do so. He had run away from his family at the age of sixteen, and even though he was disowned, he could still technically ask Kreacher to perform tasks for him. All he had to do was say his name, and he would appear.
It was very apparent that Sirius despised Kreacher with every fiber of his being. The look in his eyes spoke volumes. But for the war effort, he would go to any lengths. Lily's revelations about goblin magic had spurred him into action. James could see how much his wife had changed - instead of exclaiming loudly and angrily that Sirius was incredibly wrong to use a house-elf the way he was, she completely let it go. But James would never call her out on it; his idea of right and wrong had been warped, too, and he knew it.
As Sirius had left the Order meeting, he had said quietly, "It's very, very easy to get caught up in those books." There was a shadow lurking behind his eyes as he spoke. "The dark ones can be extremely ... addictive, and that's putting it mildly." He had shared a significant look with James, who once again marveled at his best friend's strength of character. He had resisted those urges and said no to dark magic. That said a lot about the kind of person Sirius was.
Unfortunately, even Kreacher's search had proved fruitless. There was plenty of information about things that didn't bear thinking about, but nothing about what Lily was looking for. Sirius promised to keep looking; he possessed a stubborn streak a mile wide, and once he had his mind set on a certain goal, he refused to give up. "I owe you, Lils, and I'll do anything to see this war end," he'd said solemnly.
"I know you will, Padfoot," Lily had said, knowing this was nothing but the truth.
"James?" Lily's voice pulled her husband back to the present.
"Hmm?" James asked, comforted by the scent and feel of her soft curls on his face.
"I feel useless," Lily murmured, her voice full of hopelessness. "There's another Order meeting tomorrow, and I still have nothing to report. Obviously, it's a good thing that I haven't seen any suspicious activity at work, but I wanted to talk about goblin magic. I ..."
"I know, darling." James tightened his arms around her, feeling her body tensing up as she revealed her emotions to the one person she knew she could depend on. "Lils, you are doing the best you can. That's all Dumbledore can ask of you, you know that."
"I do," Lily confirmed quietly, "but it doesn't help. Things are only getting worse, James, and Harry ..." She took a deep breath, the look in her emerald eyes scaring James with its intensity. "Sometimes," she whispered, her voice full of raw fear and desperation, "all I want to do is take Harry and run. You, me, and our son - we can go someplace where there's no war, where we don't have to wake up every morning and find out that more people have been murdered. We won't have to live with the fact that Voldemort is tainting everything, that the monsters who support him are rampaging through the country, harming innocent people who haven't done anything to deserve it. I want my Harry to have a childhood. I want him to - to stay alive." Her voice shook, and she blinked back tears.
In all honesty, James wasn't at all surprised to hear her say this. For a while, he'd been thinking along the same lines. The thought of leaving his best friends in the world, the Marauders, leaving the Order behind - it was a daunting, terrifying prospect, but Lily and Harry ... they were what mattered most to him in the entire world. Honestly, since Dumbledore had informed him and Lily of the prophecy, he felt like his relationship with the Marauders had drifted. He still felt incredibly close to Sirius; the other man was his greatest and most devoted friend. But even he, as much as he tried, couldn't really understand what James and his little family were going through. And he was terrified - he was so, so scared - that his son would die before he got a chance to live, that Voldemort would end his precious life before it even began. "You know, Lily," he said softly, carting his hand through her curls. "I know exactly what you mean."
Lily's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?" she asked, true shock in her tone. "But the Marauders ..."
"You and Harry will always mean more to me than the Marauders. I love them - they're my best mates. But you and Harry are my family," he said fiercely, his fingers still moving through Lily's hair. "And I'll do what I need to, to keep you safe. If it means leaving the Order and the war far behind us, then so be it." His voice grew quieter as he confessed something to her that he had kept locked inside for a very long time. "What is the Order doing, anyway?" His eyes grew hard and angry, although the emotion wasn't directed at his wife. "All we ever do is talk about what we need to do next. Talk, talk, talk. What is it accomplishing? What good are we doing? The Death Eaters always seem to be two steps ahead of us, and we don't save hardly enough people." He held Lily tight as he felt the familiar rage and helplessness pump through his body. "We're always too late," he whispered as images of bloodied, tortured bodies filtered through his mind. It was only a small number of Death Eaters that finished their victims with a clean Killing Curse. As horrifying and gut-wrenching as it was to see someone get hit with that spell, there were worse ways of dying. James used to think that an Avada Kedavra was the worst thing one could ever see, but after witnessing what had happened to countless victims as the Death Eaters made sport of them, James knew that wasn't true.
And, Merlin, he was sick of the constant, empty platitudes that were spouted by Dumbledore. He'd lost count of the number of times the old man had given hollow condolences, telling people that their loved ones hadn't died in vain and that they were heroes. When James had first become a member of the Order, the title of "hero" had looked 'glamorous to him. But in the end, what did it mean? That title wasn't worth the violence and carnage. Death - that was what happened to heroes. They were buried in the ground and covered with six feet of dirt.
"I know, James." The fiery, passionate girl he'd first fallen in love with, who used to think every battle was worth fighting, softly agreed. "I don't know how much longer I can take this."
James kissed her then, pouring every ounce of emotion he still possessed into it. They were two warped, jaded people now, but James thought cynically that at least they were going on this downward spiral together. He almost laughed at the darkness of his thoughts - the old James Potter, who only worried about whether or not he'd get caught putting a dungbomb in Filch's office or how to get into the Slytherin common room so he could place slugs inside, would have been flabbergasted at who he was today.
"I don't see how people like Benjy still have hope," Lily murmured once she and James had broken apart. "He's still convinced Voldemort will be defeated."
"I honestly have no idea," James agreed, thinking of the middle-aged man who, somehow, still possessed an amazing resilience and strength of character. "And he doesn't just seem to be spouting platitudes, either, like Dumbledore is these days. He truly thinks it's going to be worth the sacrifice. He sincerely sees a better tomorrow coming for all of us. Merlin, if only I still had that hope."
"And he has a son, too," Lily said, clear awe in her voice as she thought of Benjy's positivity and optimism. "He told me that Sam turns eleven at the end of the month, and it'll be his first year at Hogwarts in September."
James nodded against her, wondering if Sam regained any innocence at all. With Benjy as a father, he surmised, he probably did. Benjy would somehow have been able to make sure his son had a joyful childhood, even through this turmoil and tragedy they were all facing. He knew that during every Order meeting, the boy stayed in his room upstairs so as to not disrupt the proceedings. Benjy and his wife were divorced, and neither James nor Lily knew what that story was. He had full custody of the boy, and although the Potters wondered what had happened, neither asked. Benjy was very private about those matters, and it was none of anyone else's business.
"I feel ashamed sometimes," Lily admitted quietly as she snuggled her head into James's chest as she listened to his heartbeat. "He makes it look so easy, to have hope. I feel like he's the light of the Order. I ... I feel like I see only darkness now. If I lost you and Harry, I'd ..."
"Shhhh," James murmured, once again understanding her completely. If he lost Lily and Harry, he didn't know how he'd draw another breath. "I know. Me too."
For minutes after this, they held each other desperately, the intensity of the moment washing over them. It felt like a huge chasm was gaping open before them, and they would fall in if they didn't cling onto each other.
And they stayed that way until the cry of their baby permeated the silence, breaking the moment. Immediately, both parents got up to tend to him.
For now, they would spend time with their son. For now, they would try to forget about what was going on outside their beautiful little cottage. They would play with Harry, hold Harry, love Harry. They would be a family.
Because in the end, that was all they needed.
