Euphemia Potter died a week later. Her condition had deteriorated so much in the preceding weeks that she was too weak to leave her bed without both Sirius and James supporting her, and she started to have a hard time swallowing liquids. After a few days and no signs of improvement, James finally had to admit to Lily just how bad his mother's condition had become, and the two of them had spent most of the last week taking turns keeping watch at her bedside. Eventually, in the early hours of the morning on a Wednesday, Mrs. Potter passed away quietly in her sleep.

James was quiet for a long time after the funeral. Having gone through the same thing only months before, Lily understood the overwhelming sense of loss that he was experiencing, and the time it would take for it to ease. She still thought of her own parents everyday.

The baby had started kicking a few weeks ago, and Lily would often lay her hand on her stomach and wonder how her family would have reacted to the little life growing inside her. She would laugh slightly when thinking about her parents' initial shock, cringe at the thought of Petunia's outrage and disgust ("You can't let anyone see! What would the neighbors think?" -Lily still hadn't told Tuny that she was pregnant, and as much as it pained her to withhold such a large part of her life from her sister, she also couldn't bear the thought of further judgment from her), and then tear up at the realization that, ultimately, her parents would have showered her with love, understanding, and excitement at the prospect of a new grandchild.

Though she was partly terrified by the idea of being a mother, and longed desperately to have her own mother by her side to guide her and help her through the process, she found a certain comfort and consolation in the baby. It gave her a new purpose in life, beyond the endless fighting of the Wizarding War. She suspected that James felt the same way. They might have lost their families, but they were still here, they were still alive, they were still together. They could build a new family all of their own, and let the legacy of their own parents live on.

Lily called James over to the sofa one afternoon on one of these occasions, a couple of weeks after the funeral. "James! The baby's kicking again!"

James ran over from the kitchen with an excitement that she hadn't seen in weeks. He laid his hand, so much larger than Lily's, on her stomach, and waited for the next kick. It came almost immediately.

"Merlin's Beard!" he exclaimed, "She's getting strong!"

"What makes you think it's a girl?" Lily laughed.

"Have you seen the number of pumpkin cakes you've been eating? It's definitely a girl. Little Lily Jr. has a sweet tooth."

"That's just an old wives' tale. Maybe it's a boy, and James Jr. has the sweet tooth."

"Well," said James, feeling another kick, "boy or girl, it's going to be a stellar Quidditch player with strength like that."

Lily smiled, and thought for a moment. "James," she said, softly, "What are we going to name the baby?"

James' frowned slightly, apparently realizing that the topic of names hadn't come up before. For the most part, the two of them had been affectionately referring to the baby as "the little Chizpurfle" which was a kind of small, magical parasite.

"I think," he said slowly, "we should name it after one of our parents."

Lily smiled. "So, Fleamont if it's a boy, and Euphemia if it's a girl?"

James snorted. "Er, on second thought, let's name it after one of your parents. Euphemia might work as a second name... Fleamont... less so."

Lily spoke in mock seriousness. "Fleamont Potter, you were named after your paternal grandfather, and he is eternally sorry."

"Yeah, let's not scar our kid for life," said James, laughing.

"So... Rosemary if it's a girl, and Harrold if it's a boy, then?" Lily asked.

"Yes, Rosemary is good! Rosemary Euphemia Potter. What do you think?"

"I think it works," said Lily, recalling her own mother's name with fondness, "I take it you don't like Harrold, though?"

"Er... it's a bit, old-man-y, don't you think?"

Lily laughed. "You can't imagine looking at a baby and thinking 'that's a Harrold'?"

"No. To be completely honest, no I can't."

"Well, what about Harry, then? That's what most of my dad's friends called him, anyway."

"I like Harry. Actually, I think my grandfather-my father's father-went by Harry too."

"And he named his son Fleamont?" Lily asked, slightly baffled.

"Apparently it was my grandmother's idea."

"Good lord. Your poor father. So, Rosemary Euphemia if it's a girl, and Harry... James... if it's a boy."

"I like how you just casually threw my name in there," James said.

"Well, you were the one who said you didn't want Fleamont. Besides, I like James," said Lily.

James smiled at her. "Fine," he said, "Rosemary Euphemia and Harry James."

...

Rosemary Euphemia Potter was born on December 10th, 1978. Lily went into labor shortly after dinner, and James quickly ordered a taxi to take them to the nearest hospital (Lily had been uncomfortable with the idea of giving birth at home, and without any living female relatives or friends capable of performing the magic that would be needed if anything went wrong, James had agreed that a muggle hospital was the best option) and little Rosemary arrived several hours later, just before midnight. The doctor commented on the strength of her lungs as she came into the world, and James proudly announced that she'd gotten that from him. Lily told him that if Rosemary was half as loud as he was, she'd run away to Switzerland, but he told her that if that was the case, she'd probably still be able to hear her.

Little Rosemary grew up quickly over the next several months, and as her parents became more deeply entrenched in the war movement-first being asked to help develop spells and battle strategies, and eventually becoming fully-fledged members of the Order of the Phoenix-she found herself being toted around in various slings, and rocked to sleep during strategy meetings. She was a pretty baby, with her father's large hazel eyes, and her mother's dark red hair, which grew in tiny curls upon her small head.

Once she was old enough to be left on her own for a few hours at a time, her parents began leaving her with older Order of the Phoenix members while they went out on missions. During this time, she would babble away loudly to whoever was watching her, and take great pleasure in grabbing any wands that got put down within reaching distance. James called her his little menace, and would bounce her up and down in the air when they got back, telling her how proud he was of her magic and that she was going to be at the top of her class when she went to Hogwarts, just like her father. Meanwhile, Lily tried to keep a straight face while apologizing to the poor, unsuspecting babysitter for her daughter turning a prized family heirloom into a soft toy while their back was turned.

When Rosemary was around ten months old, Lily Potter got pregnant with her second child, much to her and James' surprise. Unwilling to expose her unborn child to harm, Lily took a backseat in the Order, continuing work on spells and strategies that she could develop from the safety of their little tudor home. James continued going out on missions every few days, but he made a point of requesting reconnaissance missions only, which he could carry out in either his Animagus form or with his invisibility cloak with little personal risk. During this time, Lily developed a strong friendship with Alice Longbottom, who had become pregnant with her first child at almost the exact same time as Lily, and the two would often meet for tea while they worked on Order business together. Rosemary had started learning to walk at this point, and would totter around the room looking for things to play with-usually prized possessions, keys, and jewelry-occasionally tugging on one of the two women's sleeves and demanding a "bicky" (biscuit), which her mother would always grant her as long as she returned whatever little knick-knack she had stolen.

On July 31st, 1980, Harry James Potter was born, this time in the safety of the Potters' home, with a handful of Order members present to provide aid in case there were any complications. Muggle hospitals had recently become the favored playgrounds of a handful of death-eaters, and Lily had agreed to a home-birth on the condition that it not be in the bedroom she shared with James. Despite their initial surprise at the pregnancy, both Lily and James were overjoyed at the arrival of their new son, and Rosemary looked on in happy curiosity.

Having taken a good long look at the tiny person with jet-black hair lying in her mother's arms, Rosemary picked up the little ragdoll that she'd been playing with earlier and pointed to it, saying, "Rosie dolly." She then pointed to her brother and said, "Mummy dolly." Lily and James laughed, and Lily gave her daughter a kiss.

"Yes, Rosie," she said, "This is Mummy's dolly. You have to be very careful with him, okay? He's very little, and you're much bigger, so you need to protect him."

Climbing up on the bed next to her mother, Rosemary gave a nod of great seriousness, and Lily passed Baby Harry over to her to hold. James stood behind his daughter to support her arms, and for a few moments, all was bliss.