I do not own Harry Potter.

Lily Potter had never lost that mother's instinct for when her baby needed her during the night. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, to her, it had only been four years since he had been a baby. Or maybe it was because her nine years in a coma had made her treasure every minute with her son. Whatever the reason, when she woke up early on an August morning, she shrugged on her bathrobe, lighted her wand, and was halfway to Harry's room before he awoke with a low cry.

"Harry?" He was breathing as if he had just run a mile and was clutching his scar. Her heart skipped a beat. Did it hurt him?

Harry sat up, as his mother sat on the bed beside him. He put on his glasses. "Harry, what happened?" Lily asked, gently. "Are you alright?" Harry glanced over her shoulder, and Lily looked around to find James leaning against the door, looking concerned, although he was trying to hide it. She turned back to her son. He was rubbing his scar again.

"My scar hurts," he muttered. "I woke up, and… the last time it happened…" he trailed off.

He didn't need to finish. The last time his scar hurt, Voldemort had been near him. James crossed to the window and looked out. Lily couldn't help but remember the last time Voldemort arrived at her door looking for her son. She hid a shudder.

"I'm sure he can't be here," Harry said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"Of course not," James turned away from the window. "He's in Albania, severely weakened. He would be foolish to come here."

"And whatever else he may be, Voldemort is no fool," Lily said, briskly. It was true. The idea of Voldemort being here was almost absurd.

"Do you know if curse scars hurt sometimes?" Harry asked.

"Some," said James, "But yours is different from any I've ever heard of before. It's likely to behave different from others."

"In the meantime, we'll write to Professor Dumbledore," Lily said. "We'll see if he knows anything about it."

"And you'd better write to Sirius," James added. "You know he wanted to know everything that happens around here."

Harry nodded and got out of bed. James and Lily exchanged a furtive glance, agreeing silently that there was no point in any of them trying to go back to sleep.

"I think it's about time for breakfast," Lily said with cheer that was only slightly forced. "I'll go make some eggs. Come down when you're ready."

She and James headed down the stairs to the kitchen, silently. They didn't say anything until they reached the kitchen and shut the door behind them.

"What do you think?" James said, quietly.

Lily spun to face him. "What does it mean?" she gasped. Now that Harry couldn't hear them, she let down her mask of calm. "Why does his scar hurt him now? It hasn't for three years, and Voldemort can't be anywhere near here. Can he?"

"No!" said James, fiercely. "I checked the wards and checked for nearby humans while I was at the window. It couldn't be him. I won't let him hurt you or Harry again!"

"We can't protect him!" Lily said, wildly. "We couldn't before." She turned quickly away and started getting breakfast ready. She had to do something.

James was silent for a moment. "Nothing like that will ever happen again, Lily," he said, low but determined. "We got a second chance at life. It can't end the same way. Lily, we've got to believe that." He crossed over to her and wrapped her in his arms.

Lily leaned against him, letting him comfort her. "Ok," she whispered, "ok." James was right. There was no point in borrowing trouble. "Why do you think it hurts him?"

"I don't know," James said.

They stayed like that a minute, before Lily pushed him gently away and went back to breakfast. "I'll make breakfast. You write to Dumbledore."

James nodded and left the room for paper and quill.

Lily yawned as she stirred the porridge. It was only four in the morning, but today was the Quidditch World Cup. Harry and Ron entered the kitchen, yawning themselves. Hermione arrived a few minutes later. Ron and Hermione had been staying at the Potter's house for the last week, and today, they would meet up with the Weasley's at the world cup, and afterwards, the trio would stay at the Burrow until the start of term.

James was the only one who seemed really awake. Probably because he cared about quidditch the most, Lily thought, grumpily. She herself had never been a big fan of the sport, but she'd seen enough of it when her husband and son played that she'd learned to find it interesting, and she was going to the game.

"Why do we have to get up so early," Ron asked, stifling another yawn.

"We've got a bit of a walk," James said, cheerily. Far too cheerily for this early in the morning, Lily thought. Of course, James had always been a morning person. But really, there was early, and there was way too early, and four in the morning was way too early. She tuned back into the conversation in time to catch the end of James explanation for how they were getting to the world cup.

After they finished their breakfast, the five of them took their packs and headed out. The hike did not leave much breath for talking, and conversation was sparse on the way. About halfway there, they met up with Arthur Weasley, the twins, and Ginny, as the rest of the Weasleys were apparating later. Amos Diggory and his son Cedric met them with the portkey. Apparently, Cedric was the seeker who had beaten Harry to the snitch last year, something Amos was very proud of, and something that Fred, George, and James were rather sensitive about.

"Are we waiting for anyone else?" Lily asked, before the situation could get any more awkward.

"No," said Amos, "The Lovegood's have already been there a week, and the Fawcett's couldn't get tickets."

"There's only a minute to go," said Arthur. They all gathered around the boot, reaching out to touch it. It activated, and they were whisked off to the Quidditch World Cup.