A/N: I apologize for taking so long to get this final chapter up. It has gone through edit after edit and sat untouched for weeks at a time simply because I could not bear to put it up and put the final pin in this four-year long storytelling process. I was sixteen when I started writing this story, never imagining more than a few people would stumble upon it, DEFINITELY not picturing that I'd be posting the final chapter four years later. I love this story and these characters so dearly even if they are not technically my own. Thank you to each and every single person who has read, sent questions, comments, and lovely, lovely compliments on countless chapters. I cannot count the number of times I have been having a terrible day and opened my mailbox to find a handful of comments from readers who are gushing about their favourite couple/character/plot point. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your commitment to this story and the characters I have slowly moulded into my own. I hope this final chapter ties up everything just right for you and that you can return to this story time and time again and still enjoy it as much as you did the first time. xx
A dream. Lily had dreamt that she and James were together. She had imagined an entire future into existence. That past – the one in which is had done her hardest to avoid James Potter at all costs – now felt more like a dream. Without James there was no Harry, no family to replace the one Lily had lost. Without James she had nothing, now more than ever.
That didn't matter anymore, though. James was gone. She knew it. She'd heard the ghastly sound of his body hitting the floor. Harry was still wide awake in her arms, blissfully unaware of the danger they were in.
Lily's eyes welled with tears, her chest tensing up as she struggled to swallow back the lump in her throat. He's gone. She could feel it; something in the air had changed. Something was missing. She pictured James' body, lifeless and pale lying at the bottom of the staircase. He was always so warm – tossing off the covers in the middle of the night and turning the temperature in the house down despite Lily's frequent protest. He'd never feel warm again.
It wasn't long – the twenty seconds it took for Voldemort to travel up the stairs and discover the closed door Lily and Harry hid behind. She held him close to her chest, heart pounding, tears dripping onto his head of jet-black hair. The door burst open, red light filling the room. The dresser and bookshelf Lily had used to block the door were pushed aside with the flick of Voldemort's wand. She was helpless.
"It's hard to believe it's been three months now." James did not need to elaborate for Sirius to understand. They were sitting in the kitchen, sharing beers. Lily was putting Harry down for bed upstairs. They didn't know it then, sitting five feet away from each other, but it would be the last time they were together alive.
"Yes," Sirius agreed, not returning James' gaze. Instead, he pictured Marlene – lying on her side, the morning light making her hair shine.
"I'm sorry," James apologized suddenly, catching Sirius off guard. "I should have never tried to stop you two…"
"James, we are so far past this now." Sirius and Marlene had been given three years. In the past few months, Sirius had been trying to remind himself how lucky he was to have been given even that. It still didn't feel quite fair, not when he passed by older couples on the road, couples that had been given fifty years of life together.
"When did you know? That you loved her."
James had never asked that before. There had always been a code of silence between the two men when it came to the intimate details of Sirius and Marlene's relationship. It was a wall that had not existed between James and Sirius when it came to any other woman.
"That first time she glared at me, sitting across from me on the train, or maybe when she pushed me into the Great Lake in second year for telling her she couldn't hang out with us because she was a girl." James chuckled. "I didn't realize it until much later though. Until I saw her as more than just your friend."
"I never thought…" James cleared his throat, his voice thick with emotion. "I never knew…" he corrected himself.
"How could you?"
"I should have noticed," he insisted, riddled with guilt.
"I hardly knew myself and even when I did… I would have never wanted you to know."
Sirius could see the tears glistening behind James' glasses. It was impossible now to discuss their past without the unloading of overwhelming emotion. It felt to Sirius sometimes that life from here on out would be filled with chasing ghosts who were never to return, ghosts that would only fade with time.
"We've done, okay," Sirius assured his friend with a clap on the back. "One day, when all of this is over, it'll be easier to see."
"I hope you're right, Padfoot."
"Haven't I always been, Prongs?"
"Do you think that Sirius is okay?" Lily asked, her voice carrying from the kitchen. James and Harry were sat in front of the fireplace, playing with the toy cars Harry had been given for his birthday (a gift from Mary, who insisted all muggle boys loved them).
"I'm sure he's fine," James assured his wife. Sirius was supposed to show up at six for dinner. They'd held it off for an hour but when there was still no sign of him they gave up. "He probably just fell asleep is all." That's what James hoped had happened.
"You don't think he's drinking again, do you?" Lily stepped out of the kitchen. She was frowning, her face drawn into the same scowl she always wore when something was troubling her.
"He seems to be making a genuine effort to do better." James was forcing himself to be optimistic. Sure, the past few months had not been Sirius' finest, but James could see a real change in him now. He'd needed to hit rock bottom in order to start making his way back up.
"I just want him to be okay." Lily plopped down onto the couch, exhaling deeply. "He just seemed so good, you know? These past few years, once he sorted his shit out. He just seemed really happy."
"He'll get back there."
"Will he?" Lily didn't sound so sure. "Even once this war is over, she's never coming back." She. The word hung ominously between them.
"He'll find someone else," James said, hating the words even as they left his mouth. "Maybe not like her but… someone who can take care of him."
"I don't know if I could stand it, seeing him with anyone else." No, James didn't think he would be able to either. He would feel Marlene's presence anytime he watched another girl hold Sirius' hand at the dinner table or kiss him on New Year's Eve. He would always know who was supposed to be there.
"Would there be other girls for you, if roles were reversed?" The question caught James off guard. He looked up at his wife, aghast.
"How could you even ask that?"
"Well," Lily shrugged, not quite meeting his gaze, "it wouldn't be wrong if you did."
"Come here." James reached out for her, pulling Lily onto the floor with him and Harry. He took her in his arms, her back against his chest. "I will never love anyone else."
"You say that now but things can change," Lily said, ever the realist. She turned around to face him, her green eyes flickering down.
"Things will never change," he told her with confidence. "I knew how I felt when I was eleven years old and I still know now." They kissed, James, pulling away slowly, looking into her eyes.
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."
Lily blushed. "Please," she protested, "I'm not even close. Especially not these days."
James shook his head, looking at her with eyes that said: trust me, I'm right. Harry came over after that, placing a blue toy truck in Lily's hand and then an orange one in his father's. He let his mother draw him into her chest, smothering his face in kisses before releasing him, his hands tangled in her long red hair.
"I like your hair like that," James said, watching as Lily ran her fingers through it and flipped it over her shoulder.
"You like it long and shapeless?"
"I just like your hair, is that such a crime?" James reached forward, smoothing Lily's hair back, running his own fingers through it. "Besides," he added, "it makes it easier to pick you out in a crowd." Lily rolled her eyes, kissing him. James was reminded of their moment earlier, on the couch. "To be continued," Lily had said.
"We should get the boy to bed early tonight," James suggested - his face inches from Lily. She looked into his eyes, smiling, the kind of smile that left her eyes twinkling with joy.
"I'll do the dishes, you start tiring him out."
"Deal," James agreed. They high-fived and Lily stood up, turning for the kitchen.
"Alright Harry, how about a few rounds on the broomstick?"
"Yes!" Harry agreed eagerly, dropping everything in his hands.
"James!" Lily complained. "Come on, it frightens the cat."
"Lil, Mimi has been completely missing for twenty-four hours now."
"She hasn't! There's no way she got out, I would have noticed. She's just frightened with you two bumping about, breaking vases," Lily said, looking pointedly towards Harry.
"Broom!" he shouted in response. "Broom!"
James couldn't help laughing. Lily threw her hands up in defeat and disappeared into the kitchen.
"Come on bubba," James said, grabbing Harry's broom. He helped the eager toddler onto it, sending the thing off with a swoosh of his wand. Harry squealed with joy, directing the broom around the living room, James chasing after him, wand at the ready for any accidents.
"Oh come on, James," Marlene insisted, urging him forth. They were fifteen, the summer before their fifth year at Hogwarts. It was a blazing hot July afternoon and Marlene had suggested they check out the annual festival that took place in James' town square. Now, she was trying to force him into a psychic's tent - which he refused.
"It's a waste of money!" James reminded her for the hundredth time. "It's just some muggle rubbing their crystal ball."
"I have some fake coins in my purse from Zonkos. Now you have absolutely no reason to refuse." James still did not move closer towards the purple tent, within which his future was promised to be foreseen.
"Why don't you just do it?"
"I will, but only if you do it with me." She stretched her hand out before him to take. If he said no now he'd look like an ass.
"You're buying me candy floss after this," James said, stepping forward with her.
"Deal."
The tent was humid and dim. There was a round table in the middle of it, black folding chairs on either side of it.
"I told you," James whispered to Marlene, his eyes resting on the crystal ball in the centre of the table. She rolled her eyes.
The woman sitting behind the table was older, in her sixties perhaps, with sagging skin and poorly drawn on eyeliner, a scarf wrapped around her head. "Fifty pence," the woman said before either James or Marlene could get in a word. Marlene placed her counterfeit coins on the table and, after some inspection on the woman's part, they were dropped into a small sack at her feet.
"Who's getting the reading?" Her eyes shifted between the pair of them with disinterest.
"He is," Marlene said, pushing James forward before he could protest. He sat down on the folding chair across from her, hands clasped in his lap.
"You have to go," the woman said, looking over James' head at Marlene. He spun around to face her, completely ready to bail on the plan now that he would be forced to endure the farce on his own, but she agreed.
"See you on the flip side, mate," she grinned, drawing back the thin veil at the entrance.
"What do you want to know?" The woman asked impatiently. "You get one question."
"One question for fifty pence?" James said in disbelief. The woman shrugged.
What did it matter? Anything she said would be a load of bollocks, he knew that. Divination took years of practice and dedication. You couldn't simply be born with the sight.
"How will I die?" James asked.
"You want me to tell you how you'll die?" she replied sceptically.
"Yes." He wondered what sort of elaborate end she'd design. The victim of a random shooting? Car accident? Maybe she would take the boring route and assure James he would die, old in his bed, surrounded by loved ones.
"Fine," she agreed, shaking her head, as if anything she was about to tell him was true. "Give me your hands."
"My hands?" James asked incredulously. "You don't use that?" He pointed at the crystal ball between them.
"Simply decorative, love," she said with a smirk. She was laughing at him, for assuming she might actually know how to read a crystal ball.
He slid his hands across the table, letting her take them in her own rough, meaty fingers. She closed her eyes, as if receiving a message from beyond. The silence was unbearable (even if it was only ten seconds). James could feel himself beginning to sweat through his shirt. His throat was dry. He was going to kill Marlene for making him do this.
"Green. The colour green is very present…"
"Maybe I die in the grass," James said, not without a little sarcasm.
"Shh!" The woman scrunched her face up, her eyes clenched, sometimes her grip on James' hands increased.
"You won't be much older than you are now. You'll look the same but you will be entirely different." A smile moved across her lips. "Boy turned into man." James rolled his eyes. "It's very… unnatural." She shook her head. "It's unclear. At least to me." You don't say.
She dropped his hands suddenly, eyes opening. "All done."
"That's it?" An unapologetic scam.
"That's all I can see, or make sense of at least. Things change, the future isn't set in stone. Your death is not either."
"Enlightening." James grumbled, stomping from the tent. Marlene was waiting outside, cotton candy in hand.
"Well? What'd she tell you?"
"A load of bollocks about a green light," James snapped, taking the stick of cotton candy from Marlene.
"Hm, maybe you're destined to end up like Jay Gatsby."
"Who?" James asked, shoving a wad of cotton candy into his mouth. He savoured every last bit as it melted on his tongue.
"The Great Gatsby? Fitzgerald? You really don't have any muggle friends, huh?"
"Did Lily suggest it to you?" James asked, eyes lighting up. "Does she like it? Should I read it do you think? Would she be impressed by that?" Marlene was already walking away, James chasing after her, demanding to know whether reading The Great Gatsby would be the thing to turn Lily Evans onto him.
Alice was in the sunroom - a small, glassed in space at the back of the house - when she heard the front door shut. Remus was home. She had been finishing off the bottle of red wine that she and Frank had shared earlier that night. Alice stood up, moving gingerly from the dark room into the light of the kitchen.
"Remus? Is that you?" He walked into the room like a dog with his tail between his legs.
"Hey."
"Where'd you go?"
"Don't judge me."
"I would never."
He bowed his head. "I went to Dorcas' grave. To see if maybe…"
"Oh Remus…" Alice would never judge him for the confession. It broke her heart. She could imagine herself, roles reversed, wishing desperately for just a glimpse of Frank's ghost. "You don't need to see her ghost to know that she's here."
He sighed heavily, settling at the kitchen table. Alice poured the remainder of the wine bottle into a glass and handed it to Remus.
"I'm starting to forget her, Al." His head was still down. "It's like she was never here at all…"
Alice sat at the table across from him, reaching for Remus' hands. "That's natural. After my parents died—"
"But it's Dorcas, Al." Remus' head raised and she saw the tears shining in his eyes. "She's supposed to be here. We were supposed to be together."
"Plans change," Alice told him. She struggled not to tear up herself, watching Remus in such pain. "It doesn't mean that you'll never be in love again."
"Could you? If it were Frank, could you move on?" Alice's stomach sank.
She knew the answer: no. She couldn't imagine ever loving someone the way she loved Frank. There was ten years worth of history between them. Frank had been her first… well, everything. Kiss. Love. Man. She learnt very quickly when they were apart that no one compared to him.
"I don't know. Maybe, with time. If it was someone kind, someone who could bring a little light back into my life. Then maybe I could."
"I'm cursed. I'm not going to put another person, let alone myself, through this again."
"Remus…" Alice couldn't stand to hear him talk about himself like that. Her best friend was not a monster. He was a kind, gentle soul. He read her son bedtime stories with personalized voices for each character for crying out loud.
"Leila, then Dorcas, the only people I've ever been in love with—"
"It's a terrible coincidence. The kind of awful, unimaginable thing that only happens in war."
"Now you're just making excuses."
"I have to believe, for the sake of my own sanity, that these days will soon come to an end and we can have the lives we always dreamed of."
"That's the thing," Remus said, clearing his throat. "I never dreamt much about my future. I knew it would be difficult, no one wants to spend time around a werewolf. I didn't care much about having a future until…" His voice faltered. Alice intended to remind him that he was surrounded by people who loved and cared about him. She would have said it, she would have told him once again that he could live in their guest room forever if he so desired. She never got the chance though.
A loud banging at the front door practically shook the entire house. Both Alice and Remus jumped up from their chairs.
"Are they trying to wake up Neville?" Alice complained, rushing to the door before another round of knocking could come. She expected to open it and find Alastor Moody or Kingsley Shacklebolt perhaps. Someone bearing important (likely bad) news. She would give whoever it was a talking to for nearly waking her sleeping baby.
"Hagrid?" Alice said, mouth dropping open as she greeted her unexpected guest. "What are you…?"
"Can I come in?"
"Of course." Alice stepped aside, watching as Hagrid bent to get through their doorway. By the time she'd shut the front door Frank was at the bottom of the staircase.
"Hagrid?" he said - sounding just as surprised as Alice had before him. "What're you…?"
"I'm sorry ta be showin' up 'ere so late." He was fidgeting with his coat, which seemed to be bunching up at the front, and then he pulled down the zipper and Alice saw what it was making him so uncomfortable.
Alice, Frank and Remus all stepped closer towards the baby, confirming their suspicions about who it might be.
"That's Harry," Alice gasped. The boy was asleep, curled against Hagrid's chest. When Hagrid shifted, she saw the wound on Harry's forehead, a searing cut shaped like a lightning bolt.
"I'm sorry," Hagrid apologized once more. "I came straight 'ere from the Potters'. Dumbledore's orders."
"So they're…" Alice's voice trembled, "dead?" Hagrid nodded, tears in his beady eyes. Alice didn't want to cry - especially not when there were so many questions to be asked. How long did Dumbledore want Harry to stay with them? Permanently? One night? There were the darker questions too like, how? How had this happened to them?
"Someone sold 'em out to Voldemort," Hagrid told them. "They were betrayed."
"You don't know by whom?" Remus asked, speaking up for the first time in the conversation.
"That's all I know. I'm ta go straight back to Hogwarts after this, report to Dumbledore." Hagrid gathered Harry in his arms, careful not to wake him, and handed him over to Alice. She took the boy, his warm body pressed against her chest. He was alive. Somehow, against all odds. She put her nose to the top of his head, inhaling the familiar, baby smell. Just like Neville.
"We'll take good care of him," Alice promised, holding Harry tight, as if he might float right back into danger's path.
"I'm sorry for yer loss," Hagrid said, bowing his head. No one said a word. None of them had broken, not yet, but the moment Frank closed the door behind Hagrid they cracked.
"I have to go find Sirius," Remus insisted. He walked with purpose towards the coat rack, Frank blocking his path.
"No," he shook his head. "You can't, Remus."
"Get out of my way, Frank," Remus grumbled, his words sounding less like a request and more like a threat.
"What're you planning to do, huh?" Frank snapped. "You have no plan and with the track record you two have, all hell will break loose the minute Sirius sees you on his doorstep. There are people working on this - tiers of well trained people - whose job it is to deal with these kinds of situations."
Alice watched the whole exchange from the living room, rocking back and forth to keep Harry soothed. The last thing she wanted was to wake him up, poor little guy, and freak him out more than he already was.
Remus' shoulders went slack. He sunk into himself. "They're dead," he said, his voice lacking its previous conviction. "How can they be dead?" He stepped back, away from Frank, and stumbled over to the armchair by the fireplace, collapsing into it, his head in his hands. Alice could feel her heart breaking as she listened to every one of his heavy, pain-filled sobs.
Tears filled her own brown eyes, her stomach knotting the way it always did when she was trying to digest truly terrible news. She left the room and went upstairs with Harry still safely in her arms. Hours ago he was being tucked into bed by his parents and now… well… now they were dead. They'd never read another bedtime story or fill the tub with water for bath time again. Had Harry seen them die? And, she wondered, how had he been spared? What had James and Lily sacrificed in order to protect their son? Alice knew, were roles reversed, there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep Neville safe.
Neville was fast asleep in his crib. Alice used her wand to erect the travel cot that they had, tucked away in the closet. It popped into place in a matter of seconds and she placed Harry down to rest, still cozy in the blanket he had arrived in.
She stood there, one hand on Neville's crib, the other on Harry's, staring between the two boys. Part of her hoped that Hagrid never returned for Harry. She'd much prefer to raise him herself, to know that he was loved and well taken care of. It was what James and Lily would've wanted - a happy family for their son to grow up in, people who would tell him stories of his parents and their friends.
Tears rolled down her cheeks then, blurring her vision. Alice heard floorboards creaking and turned around to find Frank, standing in the doorway. She went to him and crumbled in his arms. Nothing would ever be the same, she knew that, their lives were hopeless. Any chance of happiness, of recovering from all of the trauma they had endured, was slim. There was a chance for the boys though, Harry and Neville, there was a chance that they could have something better. That was the point of all their fighting wasn't it? To create a better world for those who followed.
Alice closed her eyes and there was Lily, clear as day, her red hair practically sparkling in the sun. Her feet dipped into the edge of the lake. She smiled, a big, cheerful grin, and Alice could hear her: Take care of him, protect him as though he were your own.
That's what Lily would've wanted, had she had the chance to ask, and that's what Alice would do. After so many years of friendship she owed Lily this.
"We're going to be okay," Frank said, kissing the crown of Alice's head. "I'm never going to let anything happen to you."
Alice looked up at him, her cheeks wet with tears. "Oh Frank, don't you know by now we shouldn't make promises we can't keep?"
James could hear the radio playing from the kitchen. Every once in a while Lily sang along softly. He loved it when she sang, though he knew she'd stop immediately if he tried to enter the room. James, on the other hand, was doing his best to tire out Harry before bed, although, as usual, it was he that ended up the most exhausted.
James had resorted to using magic to entertain his one-year-old son (always a sure bet). He produced colourful puffs of smoke from the tip of his wand, Harry clapping excitedly and running his hands through them.
Harry giggled loudly, loud enough for Lily to hear him from the kitchen and know that James had failed miserably at his job. It was a beautiful sound though. James leaned forward, kissing the top of Harry's head, covered in jet black hair. He smelt of baby powder and lemongrass soap. One day he would miss this, Harry being so small. In no time he'd be sprouting up and going off to Hogwarts. James tried to picture his son at eleven years old but the image seemed impossible to conjure up. Harry would always be a baby in his mind.
"More, Dada! More!" Harry demanded, looking expectantly towards James' wand. He puffed some more smoke from the end of it, until Lily stepped out of the kitchen. She looked at the pair of them, shaking her head with disapproval (though her smile said otherwise).
"You're supposed to be winding him down, not up," she reminded James as Harry squealed with joy.
"What can I say, the boy is very persuasive."
Lily scoffed. "You're just a push over is what you are." She strode over to the couch, pushing the hair from her eyes.
"Come on bubba, time for a bath." Harry resisted being taken away from his father at first, gripping to his shirt.
"I'll be up soon," James promised, "I'll read your bedtime story." He kissed Harry on the cheek, handing him off to his mother.
"You were having fun with Dada, huh?" Lily asked, looking down into Harry's green eyes. "Should we go get nice and clean so Dada can come read us a bedtime story?" Harry nodded and Lily carried him off upstairs. James leaned back, closing his eyes for just a second.
Then he heard it; the sound of footsteps and the rattle of the front door. He leapt up, rushing towards the window. Please be Sirius.
"LILY!" James' heart pounded in his chest as he rounded on the entryway. There were a thousand thoughts running through his head but the only one that mattered was making sure that Lily and Harry were safe.
"LILY, TAKE HARRY AND GO!"
"What—" he heard her begin to reply. There was no time. The door would be open within seconds.
"IT'S HIM! GO! RUN! I'll hold him off!" James saw the flash of light as Voldemort blew the lock from the door. James was standing at the bottom of the staircase, blocking his path. At least he could buy Lily a few seconds, the amount of time it would take Voldemort to kill him and step over his dead body.
James heard the sound of a slamming door from upstairs. He prayed she didn't waste a second before apparating to safety. His life was gone now in any case. There was no hope of any end but that of Voldemort's wand.
James stood, straight backed and proud. He would not cower in fear the way his opponent hoped he would. Voldemort stood before him, heavily cloaked, wand already at the ready. It would all be over soon: all the fighting, pain and heart break. It had all been for this: his life in exchange for his Lily and Harry. It was a generous deal.
James didn't close his eyes. He saw the green flash and then it was over. With a thud he hit the stairs, Voldemort shoving his body roughly aside to ascend them.
Sirius flew his bike to Peter's. It was only a fifteen-minute ride and he much preferred it to apparating. He parked down the street, giving himself enough time to light a cigarette and finish it before he knocked on Peter's front door. The weather was timid, considering it was the end of October. Sirius wore his leather jacket, the collar popped up. Marlene had bought it for him a few Christmases ago. She swore it made him look unbelievably sexy.
He knocked on Peter's door three times, the same knock they'd agreed on so that Peter always knew who it was. When he didn't answer Sirius knocked three times again, and then again, and again…
He stepped back onto the road, looking up towards the second story of the building, where Peter lived. The curtains were drawn, the windows dark. He wasn't home and if he was, he certainly didn't want anyone knowing it. Sirius turned right back around walking (at a faster pace than he'd approached) towards his bike.
It was a thirty-minute ride to James and Lily's cottage but he'd make it. He would make sure they were safe and worry about Peter's whereabouts later. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight, and Sirius moved easily through the night, drawing his bike to a halt a few doors down from the cottage. He left his helmet in the sidecar, shaking his hair out.
It was not until he was nearly at the front gate that he noticed the home's destruction. The roof was caved in, all of the second storey windows were blown out. He rushed forward, throwing back the white gate. He should've known, before he dared open that front door, that there was no chance he'd find his friends alive.
James was the first thing he saw, laying at the bottom of the staircase, his arm twisted behind his back. The image was much like the one he'd found at the McKinnons' home. Sirius yelped, hands covering his eyes, desperate to make the image go away.
He was thankful that the lights were out and he could make out only the basics of James' features. His glasses ajar, messy hair...
Sirius was ready to lie down on that staircase, beside his best friend, and die right there with him. James was the only family he'd ever had, his partner in crime, his best friend, his brother. Sirius had failed to protect him.
Tears flooded his grey eyes, falling into his lap, and then he heard it – a baby crying. Harry crying. Sirius stood up, stepping carefully over his best friend's body, and sprinted up the stairs, bounding towards Harry's room.
He found Rubeus Hagrid, standing in the middle of the bedroom, struggling to comfort Harry, who wailed in his arms. Sirius' eyes shifted immediately to Lily, sprawled across the floor, her face covered by her long red hair.
"Hagrid…" Sirius' voice was hoarse. "What…what happened? How…?" Sirius looked towards Harry, who had a terrible wound on his forehead.
"I've no clue," Hagrid admitted, snuffling back tears. "I came on Dumbledore's orders, ta take 'arry—"
"Take him where?" Sirius asked. "I'm his Godfather, I should be the one to take him." He couldn't imagine the horrors Harry had witnessed. James and Lily would have wanted for him to be taken care of by someone familiar, someone who was family. It was why they had made him Godfather in the first place. It was what Marlene would have done, no questions asked, were she in his place.
"I'm sorry Sirius," Hagrid frowned, "I've strict orders from Dumbledore 'imself."
"Right," Sirius nodded, his heart sinking. Dumbledore would have a plan in place, something he'd kept in his back pocket in case James and Lily should, by some chance, die before their son. Sirius couldn't yet understand it, how Harry lived, but he was grateful.
He wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye, stepping forward to stroke Harry's head of soft, black hair (already starting to stick up in the back like his father's).
"You'll take good care of him, won't you?" Sirius asked. He looked down at Harry's round face, his chubby cheeks wet from all the tears. His eyes just like his mother's. It was for the best, that Hagrid take Harry to safety. He would be taken care of and Sirius could do one last thing for James and Lily – avenge their death.
"Of course," Hagrid promised without a shimmer of doubt. "I won't let anything 'appen to 'im."
"At least let me give you my bike," Sirius insisted. "You can fly, it'll be easier on him."
"I couldn't possibly—" Hagrid tried to protest. Sirius shook his head.
"Really, I won't be needing it."
"Yer sure?" Hagrid asked skeptically. Sirius only nodded his head. Yes. He was certain the bike would only be a hindrance to his plan.
Remus was standing out back, cigarette shaking between his index finger and his thumb. Six hours. That's how long it had been since he'd found out that the Potters had been murdered. He heard the back door slide open and shut and a few seconds later Alice was at his side.
"I wanted to tell you," she said out of the blue, sitting on the top step of the deck. Remus joined her.
"Tell me what?" His hands were shaking so badly now he could hardly reach the cigarette to his lips without dropping it.
"Voldemort, he was informed of a prophecy," Alice explained, making Remus' stomach sink. Whatever it was, he knew it wouldn't be good. "One that predicted that the one to defeat him would be born at the end of July—"
"Fucking hell." Remus dropped his cigarette, stomping on it.
"He could have picked either boy, but…" Alice's voice cracked. Remus didn't look over to see the tears in her eyes, knowing that it would only make him break. "He chose Harry," she said, struggling to get the words out, her voice so heavy with emotion. "There's…" she cleared her throat awkwardly, "one more thing you should know."
"What?"
"Sirius was the one that insisted they not tell you." Remus froze. He didn't say a word. They hadn't trusted him - James and Lily - not enough to tell him the truth. Not enough to believe that Sirius was overreacting.
"Remus, I just received a letter from Kingsley," Alice went on, her voice hoarse from all the crying. "The Potters' home was under the Fidelius Charm. It was Dumbledore's decision, to increase safety measures after the McKinnons were murdered." Remus could feel his heart rate rising. "It was Sirius," she spat out, "Sirius was their secret keeper."
It took a few minutes for her words to sink in. "I was…" Remus shook his head. He was right. Sirius was the traitor. That's what she was telling him. "Sirius?" Remus clarified. "Sirius was…" Remus cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump in it. "He was the spy?"
"Yes," Alice nodded, her eyes flooding with fresh tears. "He was the only one who could have told Voldemort where to find them." Remus had been right, all along he had been right. The truth wasn't as vindicating as he'd thought it would be. In fact, it left a hollow ache in his chest. He was right, one of his oldest friends had been plotting their destruction all along, he had murdered the people Remus loved most.
"I'm so sorry," Alice apologized over and over, snuffling back tears. Remus didn't know whether she was apologizing for lying to him or the fact that she hadn't believed him when he'd been telling the truth all along.
"Has he been caught?" He stood up, arms crossed against his chest, pacing along the back deck.
"They're looking for him," Alice said, rubbing at her rid-rimmed eyes. "He won't be able to escape justice for very long and when they catch him…"
"He'll be sent to Azkaban?" Alice nodded her head. Good, Remus thought bitterly, he can rot there for all I care.
"We can't let anything happen to Harry," Alice said. "I don't care what Albus bloody Dumbledore says. Harry belongs with family." Her chin quivered. "Well… we're his family now."
Remus, who'd had his back to her, turned around, mustering a weak, sad, smile. "You're right," he agreed, "we won't let them take him." He knew, even then, that it would not be that simple. Nothing would ever be simple again.
It had been raining for nearly an hour but Sirius still did not budge. He stood across the street from Peter's apartment, hidden in shrubbery. He had a clear view of the front door so that he would know the moment Peter returned. Hours he'd been standing there, ever since he'd returned from the Potters'. It was early morning now, sometime after seven, judging by the rising sun.
Sirius spent his time waiting cursing himself for every stupid mistake he had made in the past year. How obvious it was that Peter – the group's weakest link – would be the first to break. Instead, Sirius had suspected Remus. Remus, who had never been anything but kind and forgiving. Sirius had destroyed any hope of them remaining friends. The tenderness between them was lost. He only hoped now that he would have time to explain everything to him.
Sirius pushed wet strands of hair away from his face, staring across the road towards the same oak wood door he'd been watching all night. It was then that he saw the first sign of movement, a hooded figure coming down the street, turning the corner, putting a key in the lock…
Without a plan in place, Sirius burst forth, rushing from the greenery he'd been hiding behind. He was across the street in a matter of seconds. He took Peter roughly by the shoulders and thrust him back against the side of the building. Peter's eyes were wide in horror as he looked up and saw Sirius standing before him.
"S-Sirius," Peter stuttered. "What are y-you…"
"I should've known," Sirius said, eyes filled with rage. "You were always a coward."
Peter's eyes shifted around frantically, searching for a way to escape. Sirius had a tight hold on him, one hand threateningly close to Peter's throat.
"I didn't have a choice," Peter tried to explain. "You have no idea how difficult it was—"
"Difficult?" Sirius bellowed. "Was it difficult stabbing your friends in the back? Murdering James and Lily."
"I didn't mean to!" Peter trembled. "He's terrifying Sirius, if you could only understand—"
"I understand!" Sirius howled, Peter flinching away from him. "I was raised by those monsters. I spent every day of my life resisting their attempts to brainwash me. I did what was right."
"As if you've never made a mistake."
"I've made plenty," Sirius assured him, "but I've never betrayed my friends."
"Haven't you?" Peter countered, still shaking in Sirius' grip. "Were you not the one who told me where to find Marlene that night?" Sirius went still. "If it weren't for you…"
"What are you and Marlene up to tonight?" Peter had asked. They were sitting in a bar in east London sharing a pint. Sirius had just come from home, leaving behind a sleeping Marlene, naked and warm beneath the covers.
"She's going to her family's place for dinner," Sirius told him, not thinking anything of it. "I'll be on my own tonight."
"It was you," Sirius realized, the anger in him rising. "You killed her?"
"Yes," Peter nodded, a hint of pride in his voice - mixed in with all the fear and anxiety. "I looked her in the eye and I killed her. She died knowing exactly what would become of you all."
Oh Marlene, Sirius thought, his heart breaking. It was she that would take this betrayal hardest – Marlene was the most loyal person he had ever known. He pictured her blue eyes, filled with horror, realizing that she – just like Sirius – had been tricked.
Peter saw his opportunity and he took it. While Sirius was distracted by the memory of Marlene, Peter shoved him, breaking free from his grasp, and ran up the street as fast as his short legs could carry him.
"You're a coward, Peter!" Sirius yelled, chasing after him. "You won't get away with this!" He'd known, all those years ago - when Remus had suggested James and Sirius allow Peter into their exclusive group - that it was a mistake. Even then Peter had not appeared trustworthy.
Peter kept running, right out into the open street where unassuming muggles passed them by. They paid no attention to the two men, more focused on staying dry and getting out of the rain.
"How could you?" Peter shrieked, rounding on Sirius. "James and Lily…" Sirius saw it then, that glint in his eyes, he had a plan. "You murdered them!" Now heads turned, people trying to see what all the yelling was about.
"You little shit," Sirius seethed, reaching for the wand in his pocket. It was no use. Before he had a chance to defend himself there was a bang and suddenly he was being thrown backwards, landing with a hard thud on the road behind him.
He heard the screams before he saw the smoke, billowing up from the ground. His ears rang as he moved towards the middle of the street. The bodies of Peter's victims lay scattered around, some moaning in pain, others frozen as statues. Beyond that, at the spot in the road where Peter had been standing, was a giant, gaping hole, leading straight down to the sewer - to the rats. It was laughable really, how well Peter had managed to play the game. He'd out maneuvered them and all the while they had assumed he was an untalented, sensitive little thing.
"Merlin's beard." Sirius looked up and saw a man in black Auror robes wearing a bowler hat. He stared down into the hole and then towards Sirius at his side. With a flick of his wand Sirius' hands were bound behind his back. "Sirius Black, you are under arrest," the man announced.
Sirius looked from the scene of the crime to the team of Aurors approaching them, eyes widening in horror. He couldn't help himself – he began to laugh. Deep, belly aching chuckles that left him feeling winded and empty. It was brilliant, really. Peter had escaped and left Sirius behind to pay for his crimes.
It was Sirius who would not get away with what he had done, for Peter was right – he had betrayed the ones he loved. It was he who had convinced James and Lily to change their Secret Keeper, he who had divulged Marlene's location to Peter on the night of her murder, and he who had been stupid enough to accuse Remus of being a spy, keeping everyone distracted from the real traitor in their midst.
Forgive me, Sirius thought as he was taken roughly by the arms. The truth was, he had no clue whose forgiveness he should beg for. James? Lily? Marlene? They were all dead as a result of his blindness. Perhaps Remus who would never forgive him now.
They were right to accuse him of murder, and he was guilty.
Lily was standing in front of the kitchen sink washing up after dinner. James always teased her for choosing to clean up without magic but Lily enjoyed the distraction – and the chance to have something to do with her hands.
She had the radio set on the windowsill, music vibrating from its speaker.
I see a bad moon a-rising
I see trouble on the way
The song reminded her of so many nights from her youth – parties at which everyone would rush onto the dance floor whenever the Creedence Clearwater Revival song began to play. How many times had she danced to it with the girls? Emmeline or Marlene, a few beers deep.
Lily heard the sound of Harry's laughter coming from the living room and paused for a moment, smiling. That teenage girl being drawn onto the dance floor, usually in the Room of Requirements, could've never imagined what life would have in store for her. Lily emptied the water from the sink and paused in the doorway for a moment, admiring her boys.
"More, Dada! More!" Harry demanded, grasping for his father's wand.
Mary had come by the other day for a one-year check-up (it was too risky to bring Harry into St. Mungo's now). "He's got a larger vocabulary than any other one-year-old I've met." It had been difficult for James and Lily not to beam with pride at the revelation.
"Of course he does," James had grinned, scooping Harry into his arms. "Harry's going to change the world one day, aren't you mate?"
He will, Lily thought, standing there, watching her son shriek with joy when colourful smoke burst from his father's wand.
She stepped into the room after that, making her presence known. James put his wand down on his chest, from which it promptly rolled off and under the couch. Lily took Harry, carrying him up the stairs for his evening bath. They'd agreed to put him down early so that they could have some alone time.
Despite being trapped in the same house day in and day out they never seemed to spend any time alone together. Not unless they were sleeping, or reading silently side by side. Lily imagined James, reading Harry to sleep, tiptoeing back into their bedroom to find her waiting for him. Christ, she hoped the boy went down quickly...
"LILY!" She froze, just outside the bathroom door. "TAKE HARRY AND GO!" Go? Go where? And without James? Lily's blood ran cold.
"What—"
"IT'S HIM! GO! RUN! I'll hold him off…"
It took a second for her husband's words to sink in. Lily could hear the pulsing of her heart ringing through her ears as she clutched Harry and ran into the closest bedroom - his. They were inside when she heard the front door burst open.
She stood beside the door, ear pressed against it, listening for any signs of a fight. Perhaps James had been mistaken; it was Halloween after all, maybe Sirius had shown up in heavy robes to startle them. There was the sound of one single blow, one curse, and then a body hitting the ground.
She wasn't stupid - if James had been armed with his wand he would have fought back. There was only one possibility now - her husband was dead, and now he would come for her son. Without a wand, or any possible escape, Lily pushed whatever she could against the door, Harry resting on her hip, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks.
James is dead. James is dead. She recited the fact over and over in her head, choking back sobs as she did. James had always told her there was no way in hell he'd leave her, not unless you killed him. Well, Lily was alone now. She heard the sound of footsteps on the landing and stepped back, Harry cradled against her chest.
"Mama loves you," she whispered to him, trembling. "I won't let him hurt you." The door burst open, Lily turned away from the explosion to shield Harry. Red light filled the room and the table and boxes that had been shoved against the door were thrown across the room.
There he was, standing in the doorway, hooded, wand at the ready. He pointed it not at Lily but Harry, her arms wrapping protectively around him. She stepped back, carefully placing Harry behind her in his crib so that she could shield him with her body.
"Not Harry," she pleaded, looking into Voldemort's slit like eyes. "Not Harry, please not Harry!" James had given up his life trying to protect them and Lily would do the same for her son, even if her efforts were in vain.
"Stand aside, you silly girl," Voldemort seethed, lips drawn up into a snarl. "Stand aside now." She wouldn't. She couldn't. Not with Harry behind her. He was living proof of the love that she and James had shared, proof of the family they'd had, even if their time was cut too short. He was her son, her beautiful boy, the greatest thing she'd ever done.
"Not Harry," she repeated, tears blurring her vision. "Please, take me, kill me instead—"
"This is my last warning," Voldemort told her, his tone growing short. Lily knew she didn't have much longer. I will not let your sacrifices be in vain. I won't let it be for nothing. She thought of all of them – Fabian, Gideon, Dorcas, Marlene, James – they had died to stop this, to save Harry, to eliminate Voldemort's power and call an end to the whole bloody war. How could Lily step aside now and let it be for nothing? How could she allow any harm to come to her own flesh and blood, her child?
"Have mercy," she begged him, growing hysterical. "Please… have mercy… not Harry!" Voldemort stepped closer, Lily's heart pounding in her chest. "Please – I'll do anything!" And she would. She would've endured any level of humiliation or pain just to save Harry.
"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"
Twenty-one. Everyone she had ever loved was gone. Harry, helpless in the crib behind her, was the only thing that mattered now, mattered more than her own survival. Those last few seconds seemed to stretch on for eternity, Lily clutching the bars of the crib behind her. She thought of James, rolling over in bed, his hair a tousled mess. Marlene laughing. Sirius on his broomstick. Remus, in the library, sitting across from her, nose buried in a book. Mary's signature scowl. Emmeline, making drinks filled with too much alcohol and very little juice. Dorcas in her leather jacket, arms crossed, bossing first-year Aurors around. Fabian's arms, strong and warm, always open. Her mother in her apron, slaving over something in the kitchen. Her father in his armchair, cigar in hand.
You can do it, flower, she could hear him saying, you're the bravest girl I know.
Harry hadn't made a sound. At least it was better than him crying. It would all be over in a second. Green light would fill the room and in an instant her body would hit the floor. Would it hurt? Would everything go dark or was there something, something more that was waiting for her on the other side?
October 31st, 1981. The end of the war marked a great celebration for most in the wizarding world. Voldemort was gone and with him the power and influence of his Death Eaters. Of course, no one walked away from the war without a few scratches.
Alice Longbottom would spend the next month and a half trying to forget - about those she had lost and those who had left. Sirius off to Azkaban and Remus, well, no one knew really. He had disappeared the day after the Potters' funeral, insisting that staying would be "just too hard." It wasn't as if Alice found it particularly easy being left behind, especially when it was by choice. What she didn't know then was that she'd never get a chance to tell Remus this - how much his leaving had broken her heart or how terribly she missed him. Instead, she would be tortured, alongside her husband, to the point of insanity. Before the year was done, the Longbottoms would be as good as dead.
Remus would never forgive himself for leaving. Nor would he ever find the courage to admit to Neville Longbottom, when he met him twelve years later, that he had once known his parents (Alice in particular) very well. Instead, he would do his best to be kind to the boy, though never grow too close, as he feared for the rest of his life that Alice had died resenting him for leaving. Perhaps she'd hate him even more for not trying to take care of Neville after they had been tortured. Remus would stand by his promise to Alice, never to let anyone in too close. He would keep his word for another fifteen years. Until he met a rather unique, kind-hearted Auror - not entirely dissimilar from Dorcas - who taught him how to love again.
Of course, the first wizarding war would soon fade in the minds of all as the second approached, as would its heroes. No one would remember the heroic feats of Dorcas Meadowes, nor the camaraderie of James Potter and Sirius Black. Few left would remember the infamous Quidditch game at which James and Lily had finally gotten together. Stories of the original Order of the Phoenix would grow far and few between. The safe house would remain empty for years and, eventually, fall to pieces. Alastor Moody no longer used successful missions completed by Marlene or Lily or Emmeline as examples of his excellent leadership - their successes were now clouded by their tragic ends.
Simply put - they faded. Their lives, hopes and were replaced by a younger generation, one that was able to see the battle successfully through. Perhaps they would have faded from memory completely, their stories lost to the cruelty of time - but now you know. Remember them. For it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
