The Prewetts' funeral was held one early July afternoon. Lily, who had known the twins' family, found it an unbearable affair. She and James stood near the middle of the crowd, the funeral party gathered to lay the coffin's side by side to rest. Lily could see the back of Molly's head, her short red hair resting perfectly curled just above her shoulders. There was a pram beside her, which she rocked back and forth every once in awhile, keeping her youngest child – Ron – calm. To her right was the rest of her family – five boys and Arthur – all of their ginger heads bowed solemnly.

It had been years since Lily had seen the family. She remembered when Fred and George were still in their mother's belly, no more than a far off idea. She'd always looked warily upon Molly; uncertain whether the woman was happy with the lot she'd been given. She and Arthur had married while still so young and – like many other young women of her time – she'd never been given much freedom of choice. Lily had always thought Molly tired and unhappy, constantly chasing after her young boys, but now – soon to be a mother herself – she saw a different woman.

Lily heard a snuffle nearby and turned to see Emmeline, clutching tight to Mary's hand, tears staining her cheeks. Lily turned away, unable to bear the sight. It reminded her too much of her mother's expression when she'd laid her husband of many years to rest, a goodbye never shared before his sudden departure.

"I cannot say, and I will not say that he is dead," the officiator, a small and balding man with glasses too large for his face, began to recite. "He is just away. With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand." Lily found James' arm and clung to it tightly, afraid she might fall. "He has wandered into an unknown land and left us dreaming how very fair its needs must be since he lingers there."

"Okay?" he whispered.

Lily responded by pulling him closer. Keeping James near was the only thing that made the experience bearable. "And you – oh you, who the wildest yearn for an old-time step, and the glad return, think of him faring on, as dear in the love of there as the love of here. Think of him still as the same. I say, he is not dead – he is just away." Once the poem, written years before by James Whitcomb Riley, had been finished, the coffins were lowered and the family began to drop handfuls of dirt upon it.

Lily stood still, watching, as the two men, once so dear to her, were pulled farther and farther away. The Prewett family dispersed, moving aside so that guests were able to approach once more, passing along condolences before they left. Lily stayed back, not ready quite ready to approach. One of the graveyard workers had begun to shovel fresh soil, burying the men farther and farther beneath the earth.

"That was awful," Alice said, appearing at Lily's side as the crowd began to scatter. She and Lily had practically matching bumps. As both she and Alice neared their due dates, Lily had thought about how strange it was that they should bring two new lives into the world, as two they'd held so dear were lost.

"I keep feeling like I'll turn around and see them there," James sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just doesn't feel real…"

"No sign of Sirius?" Frank asked. He stared around the graveyard as though expecting to find the scruffy haired man just wandering around.

"Said he didn't feel right coming after being the bearer of bad news."

Lily knew there'd been more to it than that, Sirius felt responsible for Fabian and Gideon's demise. He didn't feel right making it home alive when they'd been brutally murdered. The guilt was eating him alive and there appeared nothing any of them could do to help ease it. Neither did it help that Remus insisted his survival was further proof of Sirius' "suspicious" behaviour.

"Remus is dealing with his furry little problem tonight so he didn't feel he was in the right state," James continued, making up for the absence of his friends.

"Marlene said Dorcas went over to try and talk some sense into Sirius," Alice said, nodding towards the blonde haired girl across from them. Marlene was with Emmeline and Mary, trying to help comfort her friend. Always the hero.

"Pete!" James cried out, Peter's head turning in the crowd. He approached, hands tucked into his pockets awkwardly. Lily looked over his shoulder to see Aldora coming along with him, her face void of any genuine emotion. Lily couldn't help but wonder whether she'd ever thought of taking up acting when she always seemed so well controlled.

"We wanted to go pay our respects," Peter explained, eyes darting towards the crowded Prewett family.

"We should all go," Lily agreed. "We owe them at least that."

"They seem well loved," Aldora, piped up, her own version of sympathies.

"They were the best of us," Alice told her. "Two of the bravest people I knew."

"Gone too soon," Aldora nodded.

It seemed that Mary and Marlene had finally convinced Emmeline to join the rest of the group. She came over, eyes red and puffy, a strand of strawberry blonde hair slipping from the bun it had been coiled into.

"Hi love," Alice said, drawing her in for a hug – rather awkwardly with her protruding middle. Emmeline looked so fragile, like a bird with a broken wing. Lily reached out for her to wipe a tear from her moistened cheeks.

"You're doing just fine," she promised.

"I can't bear to look at their family…"

"We're going to go up altogether, okay? You'll have all of us right behind you."

Emmeline gulped nervously before nodding and taking her first step. They all approached together, Lily holding her friend's hand, and waited with the rest of the guests to say their last goodbye. Lily's heart ached as she passed the large photo of the two boys together. It looked like it was from sometime between fourth and fifth year. Fabian's hair was shorter, the way it had looked when Lily first remembered noticing him, and his ears poked out in that goofy way they always did. Both brothers had an arm strung over the other's shoulder and they grinned proudly – Lily wondered what they'd been up to before the photo was snapped.

"Lily!" She stared up to see Mrs Prewett, more tired looking than ever. The plump woman wrapped her arms around Lily, smiling down at her rounded belly. "The boys mentioned you were having a baby…" Her eyes lacked the usual twinkle they'd had when she smiled. Now she just looked tired, defeated, like a woman that had just lost her only two sons.

"Only a month left." She felt lucky to have the baby stirring inside of her. Each time they kicked or turned Lily was reminded of the fresh start she was sure to have. She let Mrs Prewett press a hand to her stomach and feel for a kick – which happened often enough.

"Wonderful." The older woman smiled, trying hard to look pleased. "So wonderful."

"Thank you," Lily whispered as they embraced once more.

"Whatever for dear?"

"Showing me what it looks like to raise such brilliant young men."

Lily swore she saw tears as they parted, Mrs Prewett, giving her hand a final squeeze. Her husband was an easier man to greet, Lily had spent much less time with him during her relationship with Fabian. Molly, her family at the end of the line, smiled warmly at Lily.

"Look at you," she said, nodding towards Lily's bump.

"Yeah," she laughed nervously, "a new development."

"It looks good on you."

Lily stared down the line of young children, all looking towards her with their big brown eyes. "I'm sure you could teach me lots."

"Oh, it's easy," Molly, promised, swatting the compliment away. "They'll spend most of their time driving you mad but they'll find the rare moment to remind you why you decided to have them in the first place."

"I'm so sorry," Lily apologized, their small talk vanished like smoke. "They were…heroes."

"Thank you." Molly's lips were pursed into a tense smile. Lily could remember how gruelling it had been to listen to person after person remind her what an "inspiration" and "wonderful man" her father had been. The words lost meaning after a while.

"For what it's worth, I'll never forget them, Fabian especially." Molly averted her eyes as though the confession made her uncomfortable. "I loved him."

"Thank you, Lily," she said once more. The finality in her tone made it clear to Lily it was time to move along. She shifted towards the children, smiling down at them. Only Charlie and Bill recognized her, both boys greeting Lily with excitement. She was just about to give Arthur's hand a friendly shake when she heard Emmeline take her place in front of Molly.

"Molly I—" she began to say but the red-haired woman cut her off.

"Thank you for coming," she said robotically.

"Molly—"

"We don't want to hold up the line." Lily looked towards Arthur, who seemed just as uncomfortable as anyone else with his wife's icy behaviour.

"I just want to say I'm—"

"I've heard you," Molly snapped for the final time, keeping her voice hushed so as not to alarm anyone around them. "I'm not interested, Emmeline. I know quite well what you've got to feel sorry for and that's on you. Now, if you'd move aside…"

Lily watched as Emmeline stepped back out of the line, ashen faced. Her hands shook at her sides so vigorously that Lily could see it even from a few feet away. She stepped out of the line and took Emmeline in her arms, the woman practically collapsing.

"I've got you." It was Frank — who had been next in line to speak to Molly — that took Emmeline in his arms. "Let's get this one home." He allowed her to lean on him as they started trekking back towards the road, Emmeline barely staying up right.

"Who else needs a drink?" Marlene asked. She'd come up behind Lily, the whole group watching the scene ruefully. Would they ever be okay again?


An impromptu wake had been held at the Leaky Cauldron, everyone managing to come out for it. Marlene had forced Sirius to finally leave the house and Dorcas had urged Remus to come for at least an hour if only to have a final drink in honour of Fabian and Gideon Prewett. It seemed everyone had a pint before them — sans Lily and Alice, who sipped on ginger ales. They raised their glasses to clink together in a final toast.

"To two of the bravest men I've had the honour of knowing," Remus said.

"Two of the best beaters Gryffindor will ever have!"

"Two of the kindest, bravest, and most honourable souls I will ever meet." It was Lily who said the last part, her words seeming to strike a chord with them all. They clinked their glasses together and sipped quietly on their drinks, no one quite sure what to say.

All that James could think about was how fragile life now seemed. For so long they had felt invincible, the gang had made it through hell and always survived, but morality had struck. In a month or a week's time, they might be toasting to another one of them, the war claiming a new victim. How were they supposed to live in such fear?

"Hey Lil, remember when you tried to set me and Gideon up?" Marlene jested.

"And you ditched him on our double date? Yeah, that one was hard to forget."

Marlene's eyes turned to Sirius, expecting some kind of response, but his grey eyes stared dully at the table.

"Don't you remember that shaggy dog sitting outside the restaurant the whole time?"

"Yes?" Lily answered, the truth not yet clicking. She sat there a few seconds longer before gasping with realization, green eyes darting from Marlene to Sirius.

"No way!"

"Yup," Marlene scoffed.

For a few seconds, there was a murmuring of laughter but it died out quickly. No one felt quite right being happy, not when they were missing two people. Sirius had barely said a word since being dragged through the doors of the pub and it seemed even with a drink in front of him his spirits could not be raised.

"Remember their big house party before seventh year?" Alice asked the group, continuing their sharing of memories. "That was a good night."

"Sometimes I feel like everything changed after that party," Remus sighed.

"That's just cause you met Leila and started getting laid regularly." It was Sirius who spoke now. James couldn't be certain rather his tone was meant to be teasing or cruel. It seemed Remus didn't either for he simply ignored it.

"All I remember about that night is Lily's dress," James smirked.

"What was my dress?"

"That tiny green one that Alice forced you into?"

"Oh my god that was awful!"

"You looked hot!" the girls all protested.

"Besides," added Alice, "it made a good impression if James still has the image glued in his brain."

James remembered that night so well, if only because he spent the whole time dreaming of tearing Lily right out of her dress. He'd been madly in love with her back then and certain she would never feel the same. James had thought he would die still hoping that maybe, just once, Lily might feel the same. Little had he known…

"He was hooked long before that dress though," Lily said, looking up at James with love in her eyes. "Weren't you?"

"I've got a soft spot for redheads," James shrugged, "what can I say?" The two kissed quickly and when they pulled apart Dorcas had raised her glass once more.

"To friendship, love and laughter and a future filled with it." That was something James would happily raise his glass to. They toasted once more and as James stared around the table he couldn't help but hope that just maybe things would turn out okay.


Two Weeks Later

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and swelteringly hot at that. Late July had brought with it a heat wave that Alice, ready to pop at any moment, was no fan of. Frank, stuck at work all afternoon doing God knew what had insisted Alice keep company throughout the day. Now that she was past her due date – by a count of only three days – he was insistent she was watched like a helpless child.

Remus had come over for the afternoon – happy to spend some time with Alice – and the two of them had decided to go for a wander around town, Alice taking a break every once in awhile to rest her aching feet.

"Have you seen Emmeline recently?" Remus asked once they had exhausted all small talk. They were making their way along the main street towards a family owned ice cream shop Alice quite liked.

"Once, since the funeral. She's…struggling."

"Hestia was in a right state when I was on a stake out with her the other night," Remus shook his head. "I think they've taken a break."

"Emmeline said she can't even look at her now. All she sees is Gideon's face...twisted in rage."

"I've been so mad at him," Remus confessed, not looking proud of himself. Alice had her arm looped through his as she waddled along side. "If he hadn't been so fucking self-destructive…"

"I tried to persuade Moody not to let him go." Other than Marlene, Remus was the first one Alice had told. Moody had looked guilty enough when Emmeline had accused him of sending the Prewetts to their grave; she didn't want to add another chip on his shoulder.

"When? How?"

"The day of," Alice explained. "Marlene knew that Sirius was heading out with him that night and she begged me to try and stop Gideon from going. Fabian wasn't supposed to be sent out that night, he was backup."

"Makes sense." A group of young children went running past them, ice cream dripping from their cones, a tired mom rushing to keep up. "Moody and Dumbledore have been on…different paths, shall we say?"

"What do you mean?" Alice's eyebrows drew together, they way they always did when she was concerned.

"Moody is no longer running the Order," Remus explained. "Dumbledore's taken over."

"That's ridiculous!" Alice couldn't believe her ears. Alastor Moody was one of the smartest wizards she knew, how could his authority be questioned? "We owe everything we've succeeded in so far to Moody—"

"There's been some debate," Remus told her, biting his lip anxiously. Alice knew perfectly well why her husband had failed to relay such information to her. Frank had become obsessed with keeping the house a "war free zone," no discussion of things Alice had little to no power over. "People think it's time for a new head of the Order…there's worry that Moody is no longer thinking clearly."

"No one's thinking clearly!" Alice protested, the pair rounding on their destination. "It has been two years of this crap!"

"I know," Remus agreed.

They put the conversation on hold once they stepped into the shop. Alice got herself mint chocolate chip in a cup and Remus pralines and cream. They sat on the patio out back, Alice basking in the shade a low hanging oak tree offered.

"So, you and Sirius are…?" The question had been on her mind all day but only now did she have the energy to finally inquire.

"Merlin, are you really going to force me to discuss that one?"

"As long as Marlene is coming to me worried you're going to kill each other." Alice found the feud between the two men immature and exhausting. While they needed to be banding together, staying strong, Remus and Sirius had turned to pointing fingers and making blind accusations. They were acting like children.

"She can't see clearly when it comes to him."

"Apparently neither can you."

"Look, I just think his movements have been a little suspicious. I mean you have to agree, it's been over a year we've been dealing with information being leaked and nothing has been done to uncover the mole."

"We're doing our best," Alice reminded him. It was easy for Remus to grow impatient but efforts were being made behind the scenes. Alice had seen Moody's countless meetings with Dumbledore, strategizing. They'd insisted on keeping schedules top secret but most people had failed to do so – disclosing information to "friends."

"His brother goes missing and he doesn't care, he winds up surviving a mission he should've died on, his last name itself is a red flag—"

"This is wrong Remus," Alice reminded him for what felt like the hundredth time. "You must see how wrong this is. He's your friend."

"What if he isn't though? What if this whole time—"

"Seven years at Hogwarts he was just fooling you? Waiting for a chance to act?"

"Well, someone was!"

Alice rubbed her hands along her tired face. She hoped she might open her eyes to find a better world, one in which friends and foes were not so easily confused.

"Do you remember Muggle Studies?" Alice asked. "When we learnt about the world wars?"

"Yes."

"Could we have ever won if soldier had begun to turn on soldier? If we'd refused to protect one another in the trenches? The Germans would have used the weakness to their advantage, preyed upon it, encouraged it even if they'd had the chance."

"So what do you suggest? We sit around and wait until this traitor reveals themselves?"

"We trust each other," Alice insisted. "I'd rather go to my grave for believing in my friends than because I turned my back on those in my life."

Remus bowed his head at that, too guilty or stubborn to push the conversation any further. They finished off their ice cream in silence. Alice spent the time trying not to think about her aching back and Remus stared thoughtfully into his cup. When they finally finished Alice needed to be pulled out of her chair with the grace of an elephant.

"Ohh," she said, inhaling sharply. Her belly was tight – as it was most days – but she felt a stirring within, something she'd never felt before. She rested one hand on the back of the chair, the other pressed against her bump, waiting. By the time Remus had returned from throwing away their empty cups she had her eyes clenched shut in pain.

"What?" Remus asked. He was at her side in an instant. Alice breathed in and out for a few seconds until the cramping had stopped.

"I don't know." She opened her eyes and let the light flood them once more. "Just felt…funny."

"Nu-uh, no way, we are not going into labour on my watch." Remus took her arm. "Come on, let's get you home."

They started walking back the way they'd come, Remus keeping the conversation rolling – Alice uncertain whether the distraction was for her or his benefit. They were halfway back to the house when Alice paused once more the pain coming stronger and swifter this time. She clutched to a fence to her right, gasping. She nearly doubled over from the pain it was so intense.

"Fuck," she cursed, waiting for it to pass as quickly as it had before.

"I should get Frank," Remus said certainly. "We'll get you home and I'll get him—"

"No!" The idea that this could be it, time for the baby's arrival, was too scary for Alice to bear. "He's just going to worry."

"Al, you're going into labour-"

"I'm not," she told him, taking deep breaths as the pain began to ease.

"These are contractions, you need to—"

"I'm not having this baby right now!" she snapped. "I'm not ready."

Remus didn't say another word. He waited until Alice could stand upright again and walked silently beside her the rest of the journey home. She could do this. She just needed to make it a few more hours, until Frank returned home, and then they'd figure it out. Just like they'd planned.

Remus — giving up on arguing with a pregnant woman — instead did his best to keep Alice comfortable. He forced her to sit and brought forward iced water and cool cloths to pat down her forehead when another contraction came. Within an hour they were seven minutes apart, Alice sweating through them each time.

"I know you won't like this," Remus began as another contraction started to pass, "but I really feel it's time to get Frank…"

"No!" Alice insisted once more. This time her voice came out strained and desperate. She clutched Remus' hand like a terrified child. "Please don't, not yet."

"We can't wait until you're pushing Alice! He'll want to know."

Tears prickled at her eyes. It wasn't meant to happen like this… "I'm not ready," Alice said as her lips began to tremble. "I can't do this."

"That is not true."

"It is, Remus, I...I don't know how to be someone's mother! This was all a mistake. An awful, poorly planned mistake."

"Do you love them?" Remus asked.

"What?"

"Do you love your baby?"

"I...I don't know...I've never even met them…"

"Do you want to meet them?" Remus tone was stern, on the verge of scolding, but it got through to Alice perfectly clear.

"Yes," she nodded, "of course."

"Then this isn't a mistake," Remus told her, "and for what it counts, I think you're going to be a fantastic mother. I've known so since you shared the news." Alice dropped her head against Remus' shoulder and cried. Tears sprang to her eyes with ease and stained her rosy cheeks. Alice wanted her mother. She wanted the wise advice of a woman that had been through the same thing to comfort and coach her through her labour.

Remus was stroking her hair, breathing deeply along with Alice to keep her calm. She realized, lying in her friend's arms, exactly who she needed right now to hold her hand.

"I'm going to make a very out of character request."

"I'm ready."

"I need you to get my mother-in-law."


It was Mary's first day off in weeks and she was basking in it. It was a gorgeous day, the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Patrick was away at summer camp for the week, leaving the house alone to her and Reg. They'd spent all morning in bed, not bothering to check the time once. They could be as loud as they pleased, making love beneath the covers without fear of Mary's little brother walking in. It went on for hours until Mary finally emerged from their nest to whip up some breakfast.

They ate it in the back garden, sipping coffee and scarfing down scrambled eggs – famished from their early morning activities. Mary wore nothing but a flimsy silk house robe, her feet rested in her boyfriend's lap.

"We should go on a hike," she suggested, feeling adventurous.

"If you're looking for some more exercise I can think of better things…" Reg's eyebrows rose suggestively. He tickled Mary's ankles so that she giggled uncontrollably, begging him to stop. "I'd rather keep you to myself all day," he said hungrily. "Keep you in nothing but that robe."

"Who knew there was such a naughty mind behind those innocent eyes."

"I like to keep you on your toes," Reg smirked. He reached over for Mary's hand, tugging her out of her chair and into his lap. In a matter of seconds, she had completely forgotten the steaming mug of coffee waiting by her plate. His hands roamed her body, sliding along her waist, gripping at her bottom. He loosened the tie of her robe, slipping a hand beneath to cup her breast.

"We have neighbours," Mary whispered between kisses.

"They're at work," Reg insisted, lips nipping hungrily at her neck. Mary smiled, dipping her head back without protest. She didn't have it in her to stop him and besides, she was enjoying herself too much. His hand slid along her thigh, moving closer and closer…

"FUCK!" Their bubble burst, Mary leaping from her boyfriend's lap to find Marlene's, eyes covered, standing near the back door. "SORRY! SORRY!"

Mary hurried to tie her robe up once more, struggling to get the blush from her cheeks.

"Ever heard of knocking?" she demanded, trying to hide her own embarrassment.

"I did! I'm sorry! I really didn't think…" Her eyes were still covered like a child that had walked in on their parents. Reg – equally as embarrassed as Mary – had leapt from his chair. He cleaned up their breakfast plates awkwardly desperate for any distraction.

"Okay," Mary exhaled, "we're decent." Marlene uncovered her eyes carefully as though afraid Mary had lied. Mary was grateful she looked just as uncomfortable as they did, a blush rising up her neck.

"Aren't you supposed to be working today?" Mary asked. Reg had already whisked past them, mumbling something about cleaning up the kitchen.

"Yes," Marlene nodded, a sheepish grin coming upon her face, "but my boss allowed me to leave early."

"Are you sick?"

"Nope." She continued grinning away. Clearly, she was in on a secret that Mary was not but the latter had no patience for the whole charade. Why had her pleasant afternoon been interrupted so abruptly? "Remus came by to see me."

"Okay?"

"Alice went into labour."

The words didn't register at first, Mary continuing to stare blankly at Marlene, and then – like a bulb had gone off – she gasped.

"No - way!"

"Yes! She's home right now and asked for you, I'm simply the messenger."

"Oh my god!" Mary squealed. "Our first baby!"

"I know!" She couldn't help thinking it was the news they all so desperately needed. Since the Prewett's funeral, everyone's spirits had been low. Parties and nights at the Leaky Cauldron had been put on pause, a mourning period taking place.

"You should tell Emmeline," Mary insisted, eyes lighting up. "God knows she needs news like this."

"I figured we'd do it together, two against one."

"Yes!" Mary would agree to anything in her euphoric state. "Yes! Let's go!"

Mary was about to go skipping out the back gate when she noticed Marlene's wary expression. "Maybe you want to get dressed first?" she suggested. Mary glanced down at her lack of clothing, smiling guiltily.

"Yeah, good plan."

X

It took five minutes worth of knocking — and one angry look from the woman who lived downstairs — before Emmeline finally swung open her door. Her eyes were glassed over, as though she'd been drawn from sleep in the middle of the afternoon, and her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days.

"What's up?" she answered, yawning widely.

"This won't do." Marlene pushed her way into the apartment without invitation. There were clothing and half eaten plates of food scoured throughout the tight space. Mary couldn't believe her friend, usually so neat and tidy, was surviving in such a state. "I need to see you showered and dressed."

"Please," Emmeline protested, "I'm really not in the mood today—"

"Well it's a good thing today isn't about you." Marlene ignored her, leading the way towards the bathroom. Emmeline looked at Mary, as though hoping for some support, but she simply shrugged. Marlene had experienced the same stages of grief Emmeline was being forced to endure – she knew better than anyone else how to kick someone's butt into gear.

By the time Mary had reached the doorway Marlene was already starting the water for a shower, getting the temperature just right. "Now, do you need me to step in there with you or can you do this one on your own?"

"You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?" Emmeline growled.

"You'll thank me one day. The wallowing doesn't help, the not showering only makes it worse."

"I'm not wall—"

"No one is accusing here, Emmy," Mary stepped in. "We're just concerned bystanders. Besides, the sooner you get ready the sooner we get to tell you why you're here."

"To annoy me I assume," Emmeline complained as they left her to her own devices.

Mary and Marlene waited in the bedroom, which both women made desperate attempts to tidy up. Marlene prepared some food – certain Emmeline wasn't properly feeding herself – and laid it out on the bedside table so she might eat before she got ready to go.

"Are we doing enough?" Mary worried. She had tossed all of the dirty clothes into a laundry hamper and closed all the open drawers with a flick of her wand. It was still a mess but a less frightening one in Mary's eyes.

"Most of it is up to her," Marlene said. She was making the bed, smoothing her hands along the covers to get out any wrinkles."After a while, she'll need to put herself back together alone."

"I don't know how you did it after Henry." Mary had never taken the time to appreciate how much Marlene had overcome. Forced to watch her boyfriend burn to death and then left to pick up the pieces all at the age of seventeen.

"I was lucky," Marlene said. Her face was drawn pensively, "I got to end things on a positive note." They heard Emmeline turn the water off, both putting a pin in their conversation in case she might over hear it. When she emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around her middle, they pretended as though they'd been discussing nothing more groundbreaking than the weather.

"Well then," Emmeline began, putting on the clothes Marlene had so graciously laid out for her. "What's the reason for this interruption in my day?"

"Alice is having her baby," Marlene confessed. Emmeline paused halfway through zipping up her shorts, turning on both girls with her jaw hanging open.

"Really?"

"Went into labour early today," Mary confirmed.

"That's…amazing." It was the first time Mary had seen her friend's face light up in weeks. Emmeline had colour in her cheeks — real colour — and her lips were not turned down in a frown.

"She's asked for you," Marlene said. Mary was certain it wasn't true but the white lie didn't hurt.

"Me?" Emmeline asked in shock.

"Yes you, silly."

Emmeline seemed to move a little faster after that. She didn't protest when Marlene shoved a plate of toast in front of her and insisted upon her finishing it off before leaving the apartment. When the three girls finally made it outside Emmeline was not trailing along but leading the way, her head not hanging the way it had since she'd learned of Gideon's fate. It was the first time in weeks Mary hadn't wanted to hold her hand and guide her safely forth.


Alice was lying in the tub, her swollen belly rising above the water's surface. She gripped the edges of it each time a contraction came. A pillow had been settled behind her bed so she might lean into it when support was needed, which was often. On any other occasion it might have been a peaceful way to spend her afternoon but here and now she felt only uncomfortable. Instead of enjoying the warm and bubbly comfort of the water Alice would breathe deeply and prepare for another contraction. Each time she clenched her eyes and prayed they might cease to come and the baby would wait another week.

"Alice? Darling?" The bathroom door clicked shut and Alice glanced up to see Augusta. Alice had never been so grateful for her mother in law's company. The older woman kept her calm and soothed her through each pain. Augusta herself had experienced birth and understood its trials and tribulations. She rubbed Alice's back when the young woman needed it and had been the one to suggest the warm bath as a method of pain relief.

"Is Frank here yet?" Alice asked. She sounded fragile – like a child begging for a toy they might never get. While she'd wanted to avoid involving her husband earlier she now desperately needed him. Frank would know what to do. He'd kiss her temple and rub the inside of her palm the way he always did. She wanted him by her side, holding her hand, reminding her what all the pain was for. It felt like Remus had left hours ago to fetch him.

"He'll be here soon," Augusta promised. "In the meanwhile, drink this."

"What is it?" Alice looked at the murky liquid sceptically.

"Not the prettiest thing but it does the trick. It's a potion, something to help numb the pain. My mother gave it to me when I was in labour with Frank."

"Can you tell me about it?" Alice asked. She was desperate for any distraction. "The day you had Frank."

"It was late August," Augusta began. She was sitting on the edge of the toilet, legs crossed, staring off towards the door thoughtfully. "Awful weather that night. It had been a terribly humid week – a record breaking summer for it – and there was a big thunderstorm the night I went into labour. I woke up in the middle of the night with my first contraction, covered in sweat. Didn't wake Neville up, of course, it took three rough shoves to manage that." It was rare to have Augusta speak of her late husband. She had a slight smile now just mentioning his name. The few stories Alice had heard of him were from Frank and even he found it difficult to discuss a man that had died when he was only five.

"Neville was in a state," Augusta scoffed. "Running around the house like a mad man, getting everything in order."

"Sounds a lot like his son," Alice smiled. She ran her hands along the surface of her belly. Her nakedness, which might have alarmed her at any other point in her relationship with Augusta, seemed a casual occurrence.

"That boy is the spitting image of his father." Augusta lowered her eyes and Alice could swear she saw tears behind them. "Sometimes, when the light catches him just right, I swear I see Neville."

"I see you in him," Alice said. Augusta looked up in surprise as though the very thought of Alice complimenting her was shocking. "His bravery and strength, there's no mistaking where he gets that from."

"Well…" Alice didn't think she'd ever seen Augusta so bashful. The old woman averted her eyes, rubbing her hands together uncomfortably. She was unaccustomed to the praise and Alice couldn't help but wonder how often it was she received any. "I'm sure your baby will be the same…thanks to their mother…"

"One can only hope." Alice stared down. She could see the baby moving inside of her, shifting around, getting ready to enter the world for the first time. She couldn't tell if the feeling that stirred inside of her was terror or excitement. She looked over at her mother-in-law who was still staring away shyly.

"Augusta I…" Alice stopped herself, considering her next words carefully. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye." It was the first time she'd ever felt guilty about it. Perhaps Alice was partly to blame for the constant friction between the women…

"I just wanted you to know how thankful I am, that we have your support, even if I'm not always so clear about it."

"Oh, well," Augusta, babbled on embarrassedly, "really Alice, it's okay—"

"If anything ever happened to Frank and I we'd want you to look after them." Alice ran her hands along her belly, which was beginning to tighten with an oncoming contraction.

"That's very kind of you dear," Augusta smiled, look truly flattered, "but nothing is going to happen to you two."

Alice might have said something to respond but another wave of pain came over her instead. She clung to the edges of the tub till her knuckles went white. Augusta was at her side in seconds to offer support.

"Breathe," she reminded her, carrying Alice through the pain. "Deep breaths love, in and out."

Alice found it difficult to do anything but close her eyes and pray it ended quickly. Her seven minutes was quickly approaching five. It seemed that Augusta's twenty-four-hour labour might not be repeated that night. Alice stayed still, eyes closed, her whole body tensed up until her pain eased and she could lie back once more, exhaling deeply. Augusta ran a cloth along Alice's forehead and passed the glass of potion in her direction once more.

"You're doing great," she assured her.

The door flung open just then, and like a gust of wind, Frank came rushing into the bathroom. His brown eyes were wide in terror and his breathing heavy as though he'd run the whole way home.

"I'm so sorry!"

"You're here," Alice smiled, drawing her husband down for a kiss. He got on his knees and kissed her deeply.

"I love you," he said, stroking back her sweaty hair. "Are you okay?"

" I am now," Alice nodded, breathing a little easier with them all together.


Lily was content. She and James had spent the afternoon together like an old married couple. They had taken to strolling through the shops on Godric's Hollow main street. Lily had purchased a few bits and bobs for the baby and James had found a dusty old book on croquet he insisted on buying.

It was only fair that after a day of wandering around town the the two finish off at Harry's for dinner. They had a "regular" table, the same one they'd sat at three years ago. Much had changed since then but what remained was bliss in Lily's eyes.

"You know that night you showed me the cottage, after our wedding?" Lily asked, munching on a french fry.

"Of course."

"Twenty-five percent of my excitement was for the new home but seventy-five percent of me was just happy to be closer to Harry's."

James laughed out loud, turning a few heads in the shop. Recently Lily had found comfort in laughter. Things between them – between everyone – had been so grim since the Prewetts had passed. It felt like everyone was walking on eggshells; afraid of who might be next and terrified of being too happy. It felt rare – their happy Wednesday afternoon – after so long in the darkness.

"It's the one bad habit my dad passed along to me," Lily smirked.

"Enjoying a good meal of fish and chips? No shame in that."

"My love for greasy food is strong, especially at the moment. I think it currently surpasses my love of mashed potatoes."

"Now that is a serious statement you're making Mrs Potter." James pointed a french fry at her accusingly. She giggled, her cheeks the same rosy shade they always turned when James used her surname.

"You just had to go and get me hooked on Harry's." Lily motioned down to her half finished plate of fish and chips as evidence of the monster James had created. Her husband only seemed to grow prouder.

"How else could I convince you to fall in love with me?" he teased. "I needed to let you know I had a great fish and chips place up my sleeve."

"If I wasn't completely certain I was having a girl I'd definitely say we name our son Harry."

"Name our son after a fish and chips shop?" James scoffed, nearly choking on his drink.

"The best fish and chips shop!"

"Is this the pregnancy brain all the baby books talk about?" James asked. The comment earned him a slap on the arm from Lily.

"What? You too afraid to make a bet Potter?" She knew the suggestion would get right under his skin. "Unless…you know you're going to lose?"

"You're that certain it's going to be a girl?" James asked eyebrow arched sceptically. Lily had felt it in the first few months and – with only two and a half weeks left – she was still sure, it was a girl.

"Mother's intuition," she said with pride. It felt funny, she, a mother.

"Okay then, if it's a boy we name him Harry and you have to explain the meaning behind the name to everyone that asks." They were both grinning like mad men as they shook on it. Once they'd finished up their food they left the shop hand in hand — a perfect day well spent.

"It'll be funny when we tell our daughter one day that she might've been named after a chips shop."

"Or when you explain to our son why his name is Harry."

"It's not a bad name!" Lily protested. "I like it…it's…charming."

"James Jr. would be better but I see your point." Lily laughed as they turned the corner on their street. As they got came upon the cottage a figure could be seen sitting on their front stoop. Lily's stomach lurched. She might've begun to panic had she not seen the smile upon Dorcas' face as they approached her.

"I've been waiting for you two love birds for nearly an hour!" she called out when they were close enough.

"Good news?" James asked hopefully.

"Very, Alice has gone into labour."

"When?" Lily gasped excitedly.

"Mid afternoon. Remus was scrambling all over looking for Frank."

"He found him?" Lily asked eyes lit up with joy.

"Of course, he's with her now. I do come bearing some less exciting news," Dorcas added, smile faltering. "Frank was meant to be on a stakeout with me tonight, just outside of Essex."

"You need me to take over?" James asked. That didn't give Lily any joy. It had been easier a few months ago to suggest James get back out into the field but now, since the loss of the Prewett's, his being away was more difficult to bear.

"Wouldn't be long," Dorcas promised. "Just for a few hours tonight. Kingsley would take over around three in the morning."

James turned to Lily for confirmation he should go. She knew with just a look from her that he'd turn the order down. He would tell Dorcas he wasn't comfortable leaving Lily alone so far into her pregnancy in a heartbeat if she needed him to. Lily couldn't do that though. She couldn't tell a soldier not to fight, not when she knew – were roles reversed – she'd want to answer the call.

"I'll be fine," Lily assured him, swallowing back her nerves. "I'll make Marley come stay with me. We'll have a girls night."

"Are you sure?" James asked. She was sure only that watching her husband walk off into the eye of danger was a difficulty she would never grow used to.

"I'll be fine," Lily repeated, leaning in for a kiss. "Duty calls."

Lily stood on the front steps until James and Dorcas had disappeared around the bend. She clasped her hands around her belly.

"Just you and me then, huh?" She rubbed her hand over the spot of belly she liked to pretend the baby's head rested. "I can't wait to meet you."


Marlene unlocked the door to Sirius' apartment. Inside it was dark and musky. The windows were all closed and the blinds pulled down to prevent the spread of life. Marlene contemplated cleaning up, the way she had with Emmeline, but Sirius was different. He didn't need her to intrude upon his space, only provide a shoulder to cry on.

"Marls?" His voice came from the bedroom. She paused, halfway through picking up a few dirty plates. He sounded small, childlike, and she yearned to take him in her arms and ease the pain he was going through.

She found Sirius lying on top of his covers curled up in the fetal position. He was facing the window. his curtains were drawn and there was a dead look in his eyes.

"You've got to stop this," she told him. Her scolding was of little use, few were more stubborn than Sirius.

"You know that Remus is telling people I did it?" Sirius' voice cracked as he asked the question. Marlene had tired long ago of the feud between the two men but it was the agony in Sirius voice that struck a chord with her.

"Well, he's wrong." She wouldn't fathom Remus' paranoia any more than she did Sirius'. "Everyone knows that-"

"Peter told me Remus is going to try and get me kicked out," Sirius continued gravely. "He doesn't think it's safe for anyone to be sent out with me…"

"Stop that." Marlene crawled onto the bed. She put her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. She swore she saw the stain of tears upon his pillow but pretended she hadn't. "You're not a monster."

"My last name says otherwise."

"You couldn't save them. I know how easy it is to tell yourself otherwise, I've been there, but you're wrong."

"You should've seen it," Sirius shuttered. "I've never heard anything like it, the sound of a killing curse making an impact." Marlene winced as she pictured the sound herself. She didn't want to imagine two men she'd loved dying. "Did it feel like you were dreaming?" Sirius asked. "When you watched Donovan's burn?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"I suppose it was worse," Sirius reasoned. "A less merciful death…"

"You need to get out of bed," Marlene instructed, "out of these clothes. When's the last time you showered?" Marlene made to rise from the bed but Sirius snatched her around the wrist.

"What about next time?" he asked. "When it's you or me?"

"We don't have any control over how or when," Marlene said, fingers running through his hair as she spoke. "Our only choice is in the life we lead before it all."

It wasn't the reassurance that he needed. Her words did not soothe the worry stirring in his belly but there was no remedy Marlene knew for that.

"Will you get up?" Marlene asked. "For me?" Sirius didn't budge. She worried that even her pleas might not do the trick but then she saw him turn his head and his grey eyes looked up at her all glossy and scared.

"How am I supposed to get up and live when they will never get another chance?"

"Because I need you to," Marlene told him sternly, "and James, he needs you too. He's scared right now, Sirius, and he needs his best friend. Remus is a fool for thinking he doesn't too."

"You'd be better just giving up on me," Sirius advised. "Probably much happier."

"I'm happy." Marlene leaned in to kiss his forehead. "You make me as happy as I need to be."

Perhaps he needed the simple reassurance that someone still cared. Sirius showered and dressed while Marlene did her best to make his home livable again. When he finally re-emerged, no longer in the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past week, she kissed him deeply.

"Where are we off to then?"

"To give you some hope," Marlene replied.

That hope lay in a little home on Brighton where Alice Longbottom was in the process of having her baby. Remus and Augusta were sitting in the living room waiting for news from upstairs. Alice's shouts of pain assured them all she was still in the processes of labour.

Remus' face went pale when Sirius entered the room, like a dog that had picked up a foul scent.

"How about some tea?" Marlene suggested. "Remus, would you care to help?"

She played nice until they were alone. She knew Sirius wouldn't want her to say anything, he didn't want Remus to think that he could get under his skin, but it was out of Marlene's control.

"I think she keeps the tea bags up here—" Remus edged towards a cupboard but Marlene had blocked his path before he reached it.

"Back off," she growled.

"Huh?"

"You told Peter you wanted Sirius kicked off the team?"

"Marlene, that's—"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She couldn't believe her ears. Remus, of all people, would turn his back on a lifelong friend? "You have no idea what he's been going through."

"I have some," Remus snapped in response. The kindness in his eyes was replaced with an icy glare.

"You think losing a loved one equates?" Marlene couldn't stop the storm of rage that pushed her forth. "You've never seen a person die. You can't begin to imagine the horror of it." Remus turned away shamefully remember who between them knew best. "This is petty."

"He's thrown around as many accusations as me."

"And it's petty," Marlene confirmed. "Two wrongs don't make a right. You have been friends for years and you would throw it all away for this?"

"It's easy to be friends when you're just children. Before there was a spy in our midst. You think that the Prewetts died by accident? You think Donovan's was a shock victory for the other side?" Remus was barely recognizable in his indignant rage. He kept his words hushed so that they wouldn't echo past the kitchen walls but they sent the hairs on Marlene's arm on end.

"You can't believe he's capable of that—"

"He's capable of more than you see." Marlene frowned. More than she knew? She spent the most time with Sirius, saw him more than anyone else when his walls were down, she knew him. There was little Remus could say about the man in the other room that would shock her. "You're blinded Marlene, you love him and it's stopping you from seeing clearly."

"When I was young my grandmother took us on a camping trip, just me and Amy. She told us tales of vampires and werewolves, nasty beasts as she called them. I believed her then. I would wake up from nightmares convinced such an evil creature had snatched me from my bed in the night. When you finally trusted me enough to share your secret I was shocked. These demons that had haunted my dreams for so long weren't demons at all, they were little boys and girls who had been robbed of their innocence and freedom."

Remus didn't look at her. Marlene had intended to make him feel guilty. He didn't look like the kind eyed boy she'd grown to love so many years ago. She couldn't see the exhausted and scared Remus that she had seen rising from his slumber in the Hospital Wing after the evening of a transformation. That person would never point fingers at his friends.

"You're a good person Marlene," he finally said. His brown eyes flickered up towards her and glistened with grief. "But he'll be the end of you."


The Longbottoms' bedroom felt cramped. Mary was tracking Alice's progress, Emmeline helped to fetch wet cloths and ice chips for the mother's comfort, and Frank refused to leave his wife's side. Every once in awhile Augusta would pop up from downstairs to see how things were going, and force some more of her ghastly potion down Alice's throat.

It was quarter past eleven when Mary finally rose from between Alice's legs, whose contractions were coming on stronger and faster than before, and announced it was time to push. That Mary would deliver the baby had been decided at some point along the road. It seemed fitting that she, who had been the first to know of a baby, would also be the one to bring it into the world.

"Well," Mary said, smiling at her red faced friend. "It's about that time." Alice's face was glistening with sweat from the exertion of the past few hours. Her brown eyes flooded with fear, darting between Mary and Frank.

"I'm scared," she admitted. Her lips were shaking anxiously. "What if I can't do it?"

"There is nothing that you can't do." Frank leaned in to kiss her forehead. "You've made that perfectly clear from the first day we met." Alice laughed, although it sounded more like a sob when it came out. "We've made it this far haven't we?" Frank stroked back her sweat soaked hair. "Just a little further…"

It took a few more deep breaths before Alice turned to Mary and nodded to confirm she was ready. Mary coached her through each contraction, reminding Alice when to inhale and exhale, how long she needed to push for, and how far along the baby was coming. She felt for Alice, who was putting every ounce of effort into it and yet, making only small advances.

Alice had been pushing for over an hour when she seemed to finally give up. She threw her head back in agony her breathing ragged. It was past ten on July 30th. It felt like Alice had been in labour forever, but Mary was certain the baby would be born within the next thirty minutes if her friend could manage it.

"You've got this," Frank encouraged his wife. "We're so close Al, they're almost here."

"I can see the top of their head!" Emmeline insisted, peeking over Alice's leg. It was the most excited Mary had seen her in months. She'd taken her job – holding back one of Alice's legs as far as it could stretch – with enthusiasm, throwing herself into it.

Alice was panting, her eyes tightly shut. Everyone in the room stood very still as they waited for her to make the next call. "Okay," she said, still not opening her eyes, "I'm ready."

Mary began to count through another push and watched as Alice's face strained through the pressure. She screamed out in pain as she neared the end of it, the baby's head coming out a little further.

Mary had been right. She stayed kneeled down for another thirty minutes before the head shoulders, and torso of the baby came sliding out so fast she feared she might not catch them in time. Silence fell over the room, nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, and then there was a baby's cry.

He was beautiful. Still purple and covered in blood. His face was all scrunched up as he parted his small lips to let out the belting tune. There were sighs of relief throughout the room as Frank and Alice embraced and stared in awe at the tiny human in Mary's hands.

"A boy," she announced as her voice cracked with tears. Mary didn't bother cleaning up the baby before she placed him, naked and fresh from the womb, on his mother's chest. Alice's hands pressed delicately into his smooth back and tears poured from her eyes. Emmeline had come to Mary's side, both women crying in awe. Mary only had a few moments to appreciate the new family being formed before she had to clean Alice up and cut the umbilical cord.

By the time the baby was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket there were anxious visitors at the door. With Alice cosy beneath a blanket and Frank by her side, Augusta, Remus, Marlene and Sirius all came in to meet the newest Longbottom addition. He was first placed into his grandmother's arms, red faced and screaming. Mary could barely breathe with the all the relief and joy that filled the room.

"Oh Al," Marlene cooed as she stared over Augusta's shoulder. "He's perfect...and tiny!"

"It's hard to believe isn't it?" Augusta smiled. "He'll be as tall as his father one day though, won't you?"

"Perhaps he'll have the same talent on a broomstick as his namesake." Alice's words touched something in Augusta who turned to face the bed with tear filled eyes.

"Really?" she asked the couple.

"Neville Longbottom," Alice smiled, "your grandson."

"Oh, Alice…" there were tears streaking Augusta's cheeks now. "Thank you." She kissed the baby's forehead.

Baby Neville was passed around the room, each person holding him for a few minutes. Mary watched as Emmeline and Sirius, who had been secluded and mourning for weeks, seemed to light up in the presence of new life. Both of them watched the young boy in disbelief. While they had both experienced great loss there was now new life, a future to look forward to.

When Neville was finally returned to his parents he seemed to relax a little. His mother pulled out a breast and began to feed him - Augusta assisting to get the baby to latch on. Mary watched from the sidelines as euphoria filled her veins.

All was well.