Threat

"Feel like dropping by Diagon Alley?" James said. "Might be nice to get out of the house for a bit."

Lily nodded, heaving herself to her feet. "Just give me a minute to change."

She waited for him to leave before she took off her nightgown, pausing to stare at herself in the mirror. Her body had become an endless source of fascination, all the more so now that she'd reached the third trimester. She ran her hands over her belly, smiling as the baby kicked in response. Boy or girl? It didn't matter. She only cared that it was healthy and strong, nudging at her insistently as she struggled into her dress.

The past seven months hadn't been easy. From those terrible bouts of morning sickness to her constant mood swings, she'd been miserable more often than not. Even when the sickness had abated, she'd felt tired, so tired, unable to do anything but lie in bed and cry.

But that, too, had passed. Her mood had lifted and her energy returned, though she had a bit more trouble getting around these days. She'd never realized how cumbersome a pregnant belly could be, using a spell to put on her shoes before she headed downstairs.

"You look nice."

"Thanks."

She'd transfigured a dress with a sweetheart neckline, leaving plenty of room to accommodate her larger breasts. Billows of airy white fabric helped to conceal a belly that felt enormous, the hem decorated with delicate lace trimming. It suited her perfectly, a flattering alternative to the plain cotton nightgowns she wore around the house. For the first time in months, she felt pretty, smiling to herself as she put on a bit of lip gloss.

"Ready?"

She nodded, summoning her purse as James ushered her out the door.

Her pregnancy had changed him, too. He'd become more attentive, even considerate, tolerating her cravings and mood swings without complaint. Of course, he was eager to have a child, which probably explained the shift in his behavior. No doubt he'd go back to his old ways as soon as she gave him what he wanted.

Did it matter? Not really. She wasn't going to let anything spoil her good mood, smiling as she lifted her face to the warm May sunshine. Soon enough, they were wandering through Diagon Alley, ducking in and out of several shops before James paused in front of Fortescue's.

"How about some ice cream?"

"Yes, please."

"What would you like?"

"Something with toffee," she said. "Cherries and sprinkles and chocolate chips. Oh, and pralines!"

He returned a few minutes later, looking sheepish as he held out three different cones. Unable to help herself, she giggled.

"You know, I can probably eat all…"

She trailed off, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted a familiar figure in the distance. Severus?! She didn't have time to react, standing there frozen as his eyes came to rest on her belly.

Fuck.

She couldn't hear him, but the word he mouthed was unmistakable. His features twisted, shock giving way to something that could only be described as horror. Or was that disgust? Before she could decide, he'd slipped away, retreating from her like she was contagious.

"Lily?"

Snatching the ice cream from James, she burst into tears as she dropped it in the rubbish bin.

"What the hell?"

"I want to go home."

"But we just got here. Don't you want to…"

"Take me home!"

He obeyed without further protest, probably assuming it was just another one of her mood swings. Within minutes, she was back in her bedroom, not bothering to undress before she crawled beneath the covers.

"Lily?" he called from the other side of the door. "Do you want me to…"

"I just want to be alone. Please."

To her relief, he respected her wishes, not bothering her for the rest of the afternoon. She cried for what felt like hours before she finally fell asleep, only to be awoken by an achingly familiar voice.

"Is it mine?"

Was that why he'd looked so horrified? If so, she could hardly blame him. An unplanned pregnancy would've been dangerous for them both… wasn't that why he'd always given her contraceptive potions?

She stared at the Patronus, hoping he'd remember the precautions they'd taken. He had to believe James was the father… for his own safety, if nothing else.

"When are you due?"

She didn't answer. How could she? That would mean breaking her Vow, bringing death to both her and their child. But she had another idea, one that would hopefully leave no room for doubt.

The next day, she wrote a stack of letters, each one mentioning that her due date was September 2. She couldn't send one to Severus, obviously, but they went out to everyone else, even people she hadn't spoken to in years. Between the Magical world's propensity for gossip and Voldemort's constant scrutiny… there were no guarantees, but she was fairly certain the news would reach its intended target.


Severus dropped into his armchair, faint with relief. September 2? That would place her well out of danger, all the more so if the child was born a few days late. Wasn't that common with first pregnancies? He remembered his mother mentioning something to that effect, claiming she'd been more than a week overdue when she'd given birth to him.

What he'd seen in Diagon Alley… he shuddered, still haunted by the memory. He'd been unable to move, unable to breathe, panic clawing at his throat as he'd realized she was pregnant. He'd never imagined that could happen, that delivering the bloody prophecy might mean endangering her of all people. That was the moment he'd understood how deeply he loved her, praying to gods he'd never believed in that the child wasn't his. If it was, he would've known exactly when it was conceived… destined to be born in late July.

Born to parents who have thrice defied him.

What did it mean? He hadn't thought about it at the time, too intent on following the Dark Lord's orders. Now? What if the child had been his? Would he have fit the criteria? He'd killed another Death Eater. He'd saved Lily's life, even though she was supposed to be the enemy. Both of those things would easily qualify as betrayals, though he couldn't seem to come up with a third.

Did it matter? Not in the least. Lily was safe, pregnant with a child that had nothing to do with the prophecy.

A child that belonged to another man.

It should've been enough. Just knowing she was safe… it should've been enough. He shouldn't be feeling this sharp stab of jealousy, his stomach churning as he thought about the implications. He didn't want to think of her lying in Potter's arms, didn't want to imagine what they'd done to conceive that child. Something twisted deep inside him, making him wish…

Wish for what? That he was the father? Obviously, he wouldn't have wanted that if it placed her in danger, yet the underlying resentment couldn't be denied. Why Potter and not him? Why couldn't he have been the one to put a ring on her finger? Why couldn't he have given her a child if that was what she'd wanted? Why couldn't he have been there to escort her through Diagon Alley, buying her ice cream, laughing in response to whatever trivial thing she'd just said?

He knew why. Of course he did. He had no one to blame but himself, cursing his decision to take the Dark Mark. It was his own poor judgment that had driven him and Lily apart, allowing Potter to take his place.

Yet still, he'd been given a second chance, one he'd never dared to hope for. Foolish, perhaps, but he'd started to believe…

He'd still believed, even when she'd ended their relationship. He'd convinced himself that it was only temporary, that somehow, she'd find her way back to him. He'd believed and he'd waited, defying all logic and common sense.

Now? It was time to accept the truth.

It was over. Him, Lily, whatever they'd had… finished. It had ended the moment she'd gotten pregnant, bound to Potter by the life growing inside her. Had he planned it that way? Had she? What did it matter? She'd never leave him now.

Wrong though it might be, Severus couldn't help despising the child, even as he hated the father who'd sired it. If not for them…

He shook his head, reminding himself that Lily was safe. Everything else? He supposed he had no choice but to accept it, even if he wished…

No. There was no point in wishing anymore.


Lily hadn't succeeded. Not yet. She still had one more obstacle to face, a final hurdle she needed to clear if this deception was going to work. Unfortunately, this one would be much more difficult than the rest.

Giving birth at St. Mungo's was out of the question. Even if James didn't know the difference between an early baby and a full-term one, the healers would. And while a midwife was more likely to keep her secret, Lily couldn't be sure she'd be able to keep that secret herself. There was no telling what she might cry out in the middle of labor, especially if it was as painful as she feared it might be. And even if she made it through that without giving herself away, what about the baby? What if it looked too much like Severus?

All these possibilities brought her to a single conclusion, one that scared the hell out of her. But what else could she do? She couldn't risk anyone finding out, even if…

Even if that meant she had to give birth alone.

Once her decision was made, Lily did everything she could to prepare herself, reading every book she could get her hands on. She learned all about the stages of labor, memorizing numerous techniques for coping with the pain. But as her belly continued to swell, she grew fearful again, scared that the baby might be too big for her to deliver on her own.

She was a week overdue when she felt the first contraction. It woke her at the break of dawn, an unpleasant cramping sensation in her lower back. Another false alarm? Somehow, she knew it wasn't, waiting for it to pass before she opened the bedroom door.

"James?"

"Yeah?" he called from downstairs.

One word and he'd take her straight to St. Mungo's, perhaps even a Muggle hospital. She wavered, opening her mouth and then closing it again before she forced herself to speak.

"I… I couldn't sleep last night. I think I'll spend the day in bed, see if I can nap until later this evening."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

She shuffled back into her room, locking the door behind her as she cast a Muffliato. Retrieving her box of supplies, she arranged them on the bedside table, pacing back and forth as she waited for the next contraction.

For the next few hours, the pain was manageable enough. Her contractions were about 20 minutes apart, allowing for an occasional nap in between. She rested, had a little breakfast, followed by a long bath, gritting her teeth through a contraction that seemed stronger than the others as she headed back into the bedroom.

By then, it was 3 PM, hot July sunlight pouring in through the window. Flicking her wand to close the drapes, she cast a cooling charm, deciding there was no point in getting dressed. Why should she? She wasn't going anywhere, nor did she plan on letting anyone near her until after the baby was born.

She didn't cry out until her water broke, the pain almost crippling as she eased herself onto the bed. She was 5 cm dilated by then, chills skittering up her spine as she realized that the worst was yet to come.

"I can do this," she whispered, llifting her wand to cast another Muffliato. It was a good thing she did – the next contraction hit her even harder, followed by at least half a dozen that left her howling in protest, arching her back in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

After a while, she glanced up at the window, surprised to see that night had fallen. The next charm informed her that she was 8 cm dilated, which meant…

She lost her train of thought, tears streaming down her cheeks as she suffered through the worst contraction yet. After that, they were relentless, her world reduced to pure, blinding pain as they slammed into her one after another. She knew then that it was never going to stop, screams echoing off the walls as she begged for someone to help, to come and save her, to do something, anything

"Please," she whispered, the word emerging as a hoarse whisper as she fell back against the pillows. Yet even as she said it, she lifted her wand, refreshing the Muffliato Charm. She'd come this far, hadn't she?

Closing her eyes, she gasped as another wave of viselike pressure gripped her insides. Her hands clawed at the blankets, her body racked by a contraction that felt like it would rip her in two. Another and another and another… she heard herself screaming for Severus, desperate to have him there beside her even as she cursed his existence.

Finally, she was given a respite, struggling to catch her breath as she cast another diagnostic. 10 cm or close to it. She was almost ready to…

"Bloody hell."

Her body didn't need any charms to tell it what to do. The next contraction forced her to push, screams giving way to grunts as she strained in the darkness. That was the only reality she knew for at least another hour, panting and pushing, slumping against the pillows when she had a few seconds to rest. By then, the bedsheets were soaked with sweat, the room so hot she felt faint as she struggled to push the baby out. She couldn't make it move no matter how hard she tried, sobbing in frustration as another brutal contraction released her from its grip.

For the first time, she seriously considered calling James. She knew she had to do something, afraid of what might happen if she didn't deliver soon. But how was he supposed to help her? She was too far gone to make it to the hospital, and besides…

She moaned, hunching forward as her stomach tightened again. And then suddenly, instinct took over, her body urging her to switch positions. She eased herself onto her knees, whimpering in relief as she felt something shift inside her.

It took several more contractions, her muscles trembling with exertion as the baby made its slow descent. And then finally, finally, she felt pressure between her legs, her breath catching in her throat as she summoned her wand.

"Lumos," she whispered. "Accio mirror!"

She set the wand beside her, gazing in wonder at the tiny patch of head. It was covered in jet black hair, the exact shade of…

"Hey Lily, you awake yet?"

Hastily, she canceled the Muffliato, her eyes wide as she glanced at the door.

"Give me a minute!"

"You all right? You sound like you're in pain."

"That's because I'm in labor, you miserable git! Now leave me alone!"

"What?! Right now?!"

"Go away!"

"We've got to get you to Saint Mungo's," James said as he rattled the doorknob. "Unlock the door!"

"Can't," she gasped as she was forced to bear down again. "Please… just…" Trailing off, she gave several forceful pushes, grunting and straining as the top of the baby's head emerged. She really was crowning now, wincing at the terrible burning sensation as the contraction came to an end. It wouldn't be much longer… just a few more pushes…

"Want me to blast it apart?"

"James Potter," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she sank back on her heels. "If you come through that door, I'll hex your bollocks off."

"Right, well, I guess I'll give you a few more minutes."

She closed her eyes, sighing in relief as she heard his footsteps retreating down the hall. Now more than ever, she really did want to do this alone, proud that she'd come so far without help. And yet it was more than that, something she hadn't fully realized until that moment. If the baby's own father couldn't be here to see it born, she didn't want anyone else to be here either. This moment belonged to her and Severus's child, something deeply sacred she wasn't willing to share.

Casting a final Muffliato, she leaned into the next contraction, almost welcoming the pain. She heard herself making strange, animalistic noises, her muscles quivering as the rest of the baby's head slid out, followed by its shoulders, the rest of its body emerging with a final, agonizing push. She cried out as it happened, gut wrenching howls giving way to a whimper of triumph.

And then it was over... the pain, the fear, the uncertainty, all of it. She sat there stunned, her eyes filling with tears as she reached down to touch the tiny being.

"Well, Severus," she whispered, smiling as the baby let out a wail. "I guess we have a son."

Exhausted though she was, she managed to clean him up, cutting the cord before she brought him to her breast. It took him a few minutes to catch on, but then he suckled greedily, his green eyes hazy and unfocused.

Green? Weren't they supposed to be blue? That was what she'd always heard about newborns, but there they were, the exact same shade as her own. His hair was a beautiful, silky black, his face…

There was no mistaking Severus in those features. They weren't fully developed yet, but there was the slightest hook at the end of the baby's nose, his face a bit longer than one might expect on a newborn. His lips were rather thin with a slight downturn at the corners, an unmistakable reflection of his father.

She cried as she reached for her wand, thoroughly convinced that her baby was perfect just the way he was. But she knew it was necessary, adding a touch of fullness to his lips and cheeks before she removed the hook from his nose. Fortunately, she didn't need to worry about his hair. Black like his father's, the same shade as James's… yes, that would do.

There was one thing she didn't change, though it would've been an undeniable link to Severus if anyone had known to look for it. He had a tiny birthmark at the top of his thigh, a pale brown spot that was roughly the shape of a star. James had seen Severus naked when he'd stripped off his clothes, but would he remember such a minor detail? Somehow, she doubted it.

"All right then," she said softly, lowering the baby onto a nest of blankets. "Just a couple more things I need to take care of."

Ten minutes later, she was reasonably clean, soiled sheets replaced by fresh ones. She'd gotten rid of the afterbirth, too, putting on a soft cotton nightgown before she settled herself in bed. She cradled the baby in one arm, using the other to open the door with a flick of her wand.

"James?"

"We should really get you to…" He stopped in the doorway, his eyes widening. "How in the hell…"

"What?" she said, giving him an innocent look.

"My mum said it took her… bloody hell, I don't remember, but it was a long time. How did you do it so fast?"

"Trust me, it wasn't fast. I was in labor for 16 hours. 17? Something like that."

"17 hours?! Why didn't you say something?"

She shrugged, folding back the blanket so he could look at the baby. "No need to, really. I managed fine on my own."

"I guess so."

With that, he let it go, mesmerized by what he believed to be his newborn son. Leaning over the bed, he traced the baby's tiny features with the tip of his finger.

"He looks just like me."

The glamours had worked. Lily sighed in relief, even as she resisted the urge to argue. Someday, those glamours would be removed, though that was something only she or Severus could do. She'd made sure of that.

"Harry James Potter."

"What?"

"Harry James Potter," he repeated. "What do you think?"

She couldn't think of a reason to argue, caught somewhere between deliriously happy and thoroughly drained. Instead, she nodded, deciding that she liked the name. Well, the first name, at least. It wouldn't have been her first choice, but she certainly preferred it to some fancy wizard name. His mother was Muggleborn, after all, his father a Half-blood. It made sense for him to have a name that was suitable for both worlds.

"Harry," she agreed. "Now if you'll excuse us, Harry and I have had a trying day. We could both use some rest."

James nodded, leaning down to kiss the baby's forehead.

"I'll be a good father. Promise."

He'd lied about countless things, though this time, Lily knew he was being sincere. She saw it in his eyes, something that couldn't be mistaken for anything but unconditional love as he looked at the baby. She almost felt guilty, wishing it wasn't necessary to deceive him about something so important.

Then again, she'd do whatever it took to protect her child. If that meant breaking James's heart when the time came? So be it.