A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 14, and for your continued support! I'm trying to get through the rest of the summer before September comes, so I will do my best to keep the updates speedy over the next fortnight.

Not a ton to update on from a personal side since my last posting… still dealing with morning sickness (which REALLY sucks), some headaches, and I'm really tired, but I've been told all of that is pretty normal for this stage of pregnancy, especially if you're carrying twins. I'm not showing much yet, which is a good thing, as we haven't really told anyone (outside of my cheating with revealing the news here, of course). I just entered week nine… so I'm hoping we can hold out three more weeks. I might have to tell my boss earlier, if I keep almost falling asleep at my desk!

Chapter 14 responses are post-chapter, as there are quite a few of them that are very lengthy. It's so wonderful to read the reactions and reviews, and thank you so much for posting them!

I hope everyone enjoys Chapter 15 – we have some more flashback action! Part Two will be posted shortly… the chapter was a bit too long and too intense for one go, but I won't leave the cliff-hanger longer than a day or two, if I can manage it.

Warning: Some language and graphic scenes.

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and story lines are the property of the wonderful Joanne Rowling, in whose world I am honoured and privileged to have an opportunity to play for a while.

Chapter 15: As the Seventh Month Dies, Part One

'Feel, right here,' Lily said, reaching for Sirius' hand. He jumped backwards as though she might scald him.

'It's – it's alright, Lily, I'm good,' he said awkwardly, going a bit red.

James laughed. 'Scared, Padfoot?'

'No!' Sirius said stubbornly. 'But I'm not gonna feel up your wife, Prongs.'

'Oh, Sirius!' Lily scoffed. 'It's my stomach, not my breast for Merlin's sake. And he's kicking like mad, you don't want to miss it.'

'Go on,' James encouraged.

Hesitantly, Sirius reached out his hand. Lily grabbed it and placed the flat of his palm against her robes. He was almost shocked by how firm her quaffle of a belly was beneath them – it had grown so much in the past seven months. For a moment, he felt nothing. Then, quite suddenly, there was a sharp nudge against his hand. He almost yanked it back in surprise, but Lily held him still.

'Did you feel him?' she asked, her eyes almost swimming.

'I – yeah,' Sirius said, jolted again as the baby gave another kick. 'That's – holy shit, Lils, doesn't that hurt?'

Lily gave a tinkling laugh. 'Sometimes,' she admitted. 'If he gets me in the ribs. But that only tends to happen at night. It's amazing, isn't it? He's so strong already.'

'Amazing…' Sirius repeated, rubbing the spot a bit in spite of himself. Suddenly realising what he was doing, he let his hand drop. 'I, er.'

Lily laughed again, giving him a swift peck on the cheek before hurrying off for the kitchen.

'It's alright,' James assured him, grinning at the odd look on his face. 'I couldn't quite wrap my head around it the first time she had me feel him either.'

'Just wait until he's out,' Sirius warned with a smirk. 'Then he'll be kicking you.'

James laughed, looking a little dazed. 'I can't believe it's only a month or so to go now.'

'Believe it,' Lily called from the kitchen. 'And get a move on, because I'm not baby-proofing this cottage on my own!'

'You sure you don't want to move back in?' James asked, giving Sirius a slightly terrified look.

'Absolutely,' Sirius said, already backing for the door. 'Besides, if I don't have my own flat, whose place is he going to run off to when you lot are too much to handle?'

'You can have your own room,' James grumbled. 'He can run there.'

'Can't do,' Sirius pointed out. 'You've gone and made it a nursery already, haven't you? And I'm not taking that mobile down again until the moment he turns eighteen; it took us half a day to figure it out.'

'Only two hours,' James protested.

'That was the cot,' Sirius reminded him. 'And we only did that so fast because Dumbledore turned up and sorted it.'

'Take the guest room?' James suggested. 'We never have anyone to stay. And it'll be an excellent opportunity to put off Petunia… not that she needs an excuse to stay away.'

'No can do,' Sirius said, still grinning. 'What if she comes anyway? What if she wants to bunk in with me? I love you mate, and I love Lils, but there's no way I'm shagging her sister.'

He sobered a bit as he recognised the true worry in James' eyes. 'Relax, Jamie,' he said, squeezing his shoulder. 'You know I'll always be around, if you need me.'

'James – get in here NOW!'

'Have fun with the baby-proofing,' Sirius said with a wicked grin. And he threw himself through the door before Lily could call him back.

Sirius woke again in a cold sweat, relieved to find that – at least – he hadn't changed back this time. And the dream didn't morph grotesquely at the end either. Progress.

Rolling onto his stomach, he edged toward the mouth of the cave, staring up at the bright moon. It was nearing full again… A night like this, a lifetime ago, he might have been sitting with James and Moony and the rat, plotting their next excursion through the forest. Their reprieve from the troubles of the world.

Instead, the forest was providing a whole different kind of shelter tonight.

Flipping over, Sirius tried again to get back to sleep. But his mind was far too crammed with memories. Five days… in five days, Harry would be thirteen.

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Harry knocked nervously on the door to Snape's classroom at nine o'clock on Monday morning. He hadn't seen the Potions master since the previous Thursday – since the scene in the clearing. Snape hadn't been to a meal in the Great Hall. He hadn't come by the headmaster's office. He hadn't even sent a note for Harry to meet him and receive his comeuppance for his disobedience. For all Harry knew, Snape had simply vanished from the school.

But, having received no word to the contrary, Harry turned up for his Potions tutorial precisely at the allotted time.

Even without Snape's anticipated lecture, it had not been an enjoyable week-end. Remus had given him hell for running off after a mass-murderer, and threatened to stop his anti-Dementor lessons if Harry couldn't show 'a modicum more maturity in critical decisions.' Albus hadn't shouted, but he had made Harry feel miniscule with his quiet disappointment. Then he had vanished to the Ministry of Magic for almost the entire week-end, convening with other important wizards over the growing crisis. Even Hagrid had seemed out of sorts with him, when Harry ran into him in the Great Hall for breakfast on Sunday.

But Minerva had taken the prize. First, she'd forced Harry to bed for the whole of Friday, insisting in spite of his protests that he needed the rest to heal. Harry had grumbled about it quite ardently, until she threatened to call Madam Pomfrey back from her holiday to check him over more completely. In retrospect, however, he would rather have spent the whole of the week-end in bed and in hospital wing than faced McGonagall after she'd determined he was likely to live.

Instead, he'd gone down Saturday morning to find the headmaster gone and Minerva seated primly in his chair behind the desk, waiting for Harry. She ordered him to sit and proceeded to lecture him more thoroughly than Harry had ever been chastised in his life, working herself into a temper before screaming herself hoarse, then informing him that he was on restriction 'for the foreseeable future.'

Harry only hoped that her great dislike for Divination meant Minerva could not foresee the future all that long.

And he still hadn't tackled Snape.

With a sigh, Harry knocked again.

'Enter,' the Potions master's voice called at last. Harry couldn't tell from the tone whether Snape was more irritable than usual… but he wouldn't have bet a knut against it. With a thrill of dread, Harry pushed open the door.

Snape was seated behind his desk, nose bent low over a scroll of parchment. He did not take his eyes from the reading as Harry entered the classroom.

'Instructions are on the board,' he said to the desk. 'You will find the necessary ingredients, and several unnecessary ingredients, on the work table. Inform me when you believe you are through.'

Harry stared, unmoving. Snape seemed to take a few moments to realise Harry's lack of attention to the instruction.

'Move, Potter,' he said, giving the smallest fraction of a glare in his direction before returning resolutely to the scroll.

'Er – right,' said Harry, nonplussed. He hurried to drop his satchel and retrieve his cauldron, still sending odd looks at Snape's impassive form.

The dungeon remained in near silence for two entire hours – only the occasional splash as Harry added an ingredient or the scratching of Snape's quill disturbing the quiet. Every once in a while, Harry glanced up nervously in Snape's direction, but the professor continued to act as though Harry weren't there. Harry was used to this sort of treatment, of course, as it had been a favourite of the Dursleys' when he'd been living at Privet Drive… but he'd worked himself up to expect a tirade from Snape. This complete passivity made him far more nervous than shouting would have done.

'Finished, professor,' he announced at last, adjusting the heat to simmer on his cauldron when the brew turned orange.

Snape set aside the quill and parchment, rising from his chair to examine Harry's cauldron. Harry backed quickly out of reach when the Potions master drew near, wondering wildly if Snape intended to put him over his knee. The retreat was not lost on the professor, who stopped suddenly at the cauldron with a frown, looking into Harry's eyes for the first time.

The dark gaze seemed to bore straight through him – not unlike Dumbledore's penetrating blue one. Harry swallowed hard.

'I am not going to strike you, you ridiculous child,' Snape said, his voice derisive.

'I – I didn't think you were, sir,' Harry lied.

Snape surveyed him closely again. 'Yes,' he disagreed. 'You did.'

Harry said nothing, biting his lip as he forced himself to break the eye-contact. Snape bent over the cauldron, ladling out a measure to check its consistency.

'Acceptable,' he decided, nodding at the potion. 'You may go.'

'It's only eleven, sir,' said Harry. 'I still have an hour, if you want me to –'

'You may go,' Snape repeated. 'Ladle the solution into eight phials, and drain the remainder. Be sure to put tincture of sulphur in the base of the cauldron first to neutralise whatever remains, or it may cause damage to the pipes or your hands.'

Harry felt his frustration rise. He crossed his arms, glaring at Snape. 'Aren't you going to say anything?' he demanded. 'Don't you have reminders or a lecture to give me, sir?'

Snape raised an eyebrow. 'Yes,' he said drily. 'Be sure Minerva remembers to instruct you on the summoning charm this afternoon. I shall wish to return to that exercise before the start of term. Now, tidy your work station.'

Harry dropped his hands, staring incredulously at Snape. 'You don't want to tell me what a foolish little boy I was, to run off after you when you told me to stay here? You don't want to call me a brat and remind me that I'm exactly like my father – who was friends with a murderer? You don't want to shout at me for being reckless and unthinking and all those other things you're always warning me I am?'

Snape's face tensed a fraction. 'How did you learn that your father and Black were friends?' he asked quietly.

'Does it matter?' Harry said, with a hollow, almost manic laugh. 'Black told me, alright? Or, at least, he hinted at it, and the others admitted it when I asked. Not that anyone thought I needed to know before. They'd probably still keep me in the dark, if I hadn't figured it out for myself.'

Snape looked disdainful. 'It does not matter,' he told him. 'Not now. What Black was and what he is now… who saw him for the vermin he would become… it's a pointless mental exercise to speculate. You need only to stay away from him – far away from him, Potter.'

'I know,' Harry said. 'Because I almost got killed trying to go after him, right? Because I put myself in danger again, and because of me you got hurt, and I got hurt, and Sirius Black got away anyway? I mucked it up – just l always do.'

He was giving Snape's lecture for him, but Harry did not care. He just wanted it over with – he wanted to move forward. And if that meant working Snape up into a rage to burst whatever this weird tension was, then he was willing to do it.

'There is nothing left to say,' Snape said simply, still resignedly stoic. 'Whatever lecture I might have given, I am sure the headmaster and Minerva have already handled it. And you are their responsibility, after all.'

'I almost got you killed!' Harry shouted. 'I almost got myself killed, and who knows who else might have died. Just like I got my mum and dad killed.'

'What are you talking about?' Snape said sharply. And now, at last, he looked angry. 'I was not nearly killed Potter – I was stunned. And you are not the reason your parents were murdered.'

'Yes, I am,' Harry said stubbornly. 'Volde–'

'Do not say his name!' Snape hissed.

Harry glared. 'You Know Who,' he corrected stiffly, 'Told me so. When I met him in first year. He said my mother needn't have died that night – he only wanted to kill me. But she wouldn't move aside… so he murdered her too.'

'Potter –'

'And now,' Harry continued, raising his voice as he continued in his wild rant, 'I can hear her last moments, did you know that? Every time I get too near a Dementor – I can hear her. Pleading to save me, because she cared more that I lived than she did to save herself. Which is strange, really… because Lupin says Dementors make you relive your worst memories. And that's definitely mine – hearing my mother die. But it's also the only memory I have of her voice. And so sometimes, I don't want to stop it. Sometimes, I'm glad I can't make a patronus yet – because at least I can hear her. I can pretend, for just a moment, that it isn't my fault she's gone. And my father's gone. And it's all because some maniac decided he wanted to kill me before I –'

'Enough!'

Snape's bellow cut him off at last – which was perhaps a good thing, because Harry had worked himself near to hysterics now. He felt an odd elation in the raw tumult of emotion… though he could not discern exactly how he'd veered so far from his original intention to goad Snape into getting his diatribe out of the way.

'Enough,' Snape repeated. He was white in the face now. He did not look angry – not precisely. He looked… almost frightened, staring at Harry with something close to horror. Harry thought, perhaps, an onslaught of teenage emotion was Snape's idea of a nightmare.

'I am only going to say this once, Potter,' Snape said, schooling his expression into neutral once more. 'And then, for both our sakes, I shall forget we ever had this conversation.'

He took a deep breath and Harry waited, nerves replacing what had been frustration and hurt.

'You are not to blame – not in the slightest – for what happened to your parents that night,' Snape said firmly. 'There are… many people who could stake a claim to their deaths, but their son is not among them. What the Dark Lord did –' he broke off, uncharacteristically ineloquent. 'It was not your fault, Potter. No more than any wizard's actions can be attributed to any but himself, in the end. Do you understand me?'

There was a long, very awkward silence. Then Harry gave a stiff nod of assent.

'Now, complete your packing up, before I decide to get truly angry for your impertinence,' Snape growled.

'Yes, sir,' Harry said glumly, beginning his clean-up as Snape returned to his desk and his apathy. He felt almost let down by the lack of temper as he rushed through the job, paying far less attention than he should have done.

'Ouch!' he hissed, as a splash of the orange potion grazed the back of his hand while he lugged the cauldron to the basin.

'What did I say about the sulphur?!' Snape snapped, rushing over from his desk 'Did you pour it down the drain in that state as well, to ruin the plumbing?'

'N – no,' said Harry quickly, shaking his aching hand. 'I only just brought it over.' He made to rub the welt on his left hand with his right.

'Do not touch it!' Snape barked as he reached him. 'You'll only spread the solution. Give it here.'

He reached out for Harry's injured hand, but Harry flinched again. Something odd flashed across Snape's face.

'Let me see your hand, Potter,' he said, in a slightly softer tone.

A little embarrassed, Harry held it out. Snape took it more gently than Harry would have imagined, lifting Harry's arm to examine the welt.

'Accio essence of murtlap,' he muttered after a moment, directing his wand toward a corner cupboard. A small bottle of violet liquid zoomed through the cupboard doors. Snape caught it deftly, using a dropper to carefully apply four drops to Harry's skin. The redness faded at once with the worst of the sting.

'Thanks,' Harry said, giving Snape a nervous smile.

Snape held his gaze for just a moment, frowning slightly.

'Next time, be more careful,' he said coolly. 'And I shall do the same.'

He dropped Harry's arm again, and nodded him toward the door.

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'What's happened to your hand?' Minerva asked, her eyes drawn at once to a half-healed welt on the back of Harry's left hand as he joined her in her classroom after lunch.

Harry shrugged. 'Nothing,' he said sullenly.

Minerva frowned. 'Harry,' she said in a warning tone.

'A Potions accident,' he told her morosely. 'I wasn't paying attention and I splashed myself.'

Minerva found her temper – so close to boiling these days – rise sharply once more. 'In Severus' lesson?' she pressed disapprovingly.

'Yes,' Harry said shortly. 'And don't – please. He's already chewed me out once. I don't need another lecture.'

'You will watch your tone, young man,' she said curtly. 'I was only going to inquire whether he'd given you anything for it.'

'Essence of Murtlap,' Harry said grudgingly. 'It's almost faded since.'

'Hmm,' Minerva grumbled. 'Well, if you're sure, take out your wand. We'll focus on Charms today.'

'Snape said to remind you he wants me to learn the summoning charm,' Harry said dully, taking the wand from his pocket.

'Professor Snape, Harry,' she corrected. 'Really, I do tire of giving that instruction. And I certainly don't need Severus' aid in planning my lessons. Did you read the material on the spell?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Then you will be able to tell me what the theory behind summoning entails?'

'To summon an object, the wizard must focus on the thing they wish to summon. You have to picture it clearly within your mind, and direct your thoughts toward it. The charm is an incarnation of the desire to bring the object forward, and the spell is Accio,' Harry recited in monotone.

'Correct,' Minerva said. 'And what would be easier, to summon the cup of tea on my desk or to summon your broomstick?'

Harry frowned. 'The tea, probably,' he said. 'It's closer than the broomstick, and distance affects the ability to focus. But the cup of tea is also three objects really – the cup, the saucer, and the tea inside. You'd have to focus carefully, or else the tea might not move with the saucer, and the liquid would spill.'

'And what are the obstacles in summoning the broomstick?'

'The broom is farther away,' Harry said. 'But as long as the caster is focusing hard enough, it should come anyway. It's not so far that summoning would be impossible. But broomsticks also have magic of their own, which makes it a bit more difficult to work the spell on a broom than an ordinary object. There are also doors and such, so the charm would have to be held longer so the summoned object can navigate a path to the caster.'

'And what path will a summoned object take?' Minerva continued.

'The shortest possible distance,' Harry said. 'Although you can alter the casting to avoid damaging the object. It's possible to will a summoned object to slide under doors, or through windows, where solid walls are in the way.'

'Very good,' said Minerva. 'Now, what if I told you to summon something animate? The newt in that cage, for instance, or Hedwig, or perhaps another wizard?'

Harry shook his head. 'Summoning charms don't work well on living things,' he said, 'Because they aren't in a state of stillness. I might be able to summon a common newt – because it's not a magical being and it is, at least right now, in a cage and therefore relatively immobile. I probably couldn't summon Hedwig, because she has magic. It would be easier than summoning another wizard though, because a wizard's magic is more complex than an owl's. In general, only a really powerful summoning charm would have a chance at moving either. And the summoned being would probably not come neatly to the caster.'

'Precisely,' Minerva approved with a nod. 'You've done your revision. Now, why don't you give it a try.' She took an ordinary quill from her pocket, placing it on the work table a few feet from Harry. 'Summon the quill,' she instructed.

Harry frowned in concentration, directing his wand at the feather.

'Accio quill!'

Nothing happened.

'Again,' Minerva encouraged.

'Accio quill!' Harry tried again.

The feather twitched slightly, but did not leave the desk.

'Once more.'

'Accio QUILL!' Harry shouted.

This time, the feather shifted to the edge of the wood, then fluttered lightly to the floor.

'I can't do it!' Harry growled in frustration. 'I couldn't do it wandlessly either. I've got a block against this sodding spell.'

'Language, Mr Potter!' Minerva snapped. 'And take a breath. You haven't got a block on anything,' she disagreed, floating the quill back onto the desk with her own wand. 'You just need to focus more exactly.'

'I can't,' Harry said through gritted teeth. 'I can't focus on anything today.'

Minerva frowned. 'Because of your hand?' she asked. 'Severus should have given you –'

'No, not because of my stupid hand!' Harry snapped, turning away angrily as she came over to see it. 'My hand is fine. It wasn't even that badly burned to begin with.'

'What then?' asked Minerva, hands on her hips. 'Really, I don't know what has got into you lately, you've never acted out like this before.'

Harry seemed to deflate a little. 'Sorry,' he muttered. 'I – it's just…'

'Just what,' Minerva pressed, exasperated.

'Everyone's furious with me!' Harry moaned. 'Albus is so disappointed, Hagrid was distant, and Snape would barely look at me this morning. And then there's you – you're so cross at me you can hardly stand to talk to me in a normal voice. I can tell you want to curse me into next term. And I know I messed up, but I –'

'Harry,' Minerva interrupted, as he clearly approached a breaking point. 'Stop. Just… stop.'

She pulled gently on his arm, tugging him toward a student chair. He sat miserably upon it, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees. Curled up like this, he seemed much younger than he had in weeks.

'I can see why you're struggling with this,' she said, forcing a small smile. 'Chin up. You're never going to master a summoning charm if you work yourself into a state every time you try to cast.'

'Aren't you ever going to forgive me?' Harry said, his voice a bit muffled by his knees.

'Harry,' Minerva said softly. She felt her heart contract a little as she crouched down, resting a hand on his trainer. 'Of course I've forgiven you. This was never about holding you in some sort of perpetual state of disgrace. That's not what it means to be on restriction.'

'At the Dursleys, restriction meant I had to stay in my –'

Harry stopped, chewing at his lip. 'My room,' he finished quietly. 'Sometimes, it meant less food for a while, or extra difficult chores I'd never get finished in time.'

Minerva felt hot fury course through her blood. Behind her, a window suddenly shattered. Harry jumped so badly he nearly fell off his seat.

'Apologies,' Minerva muttered, casting a hasty repair charm at the glass without taking her eyes from Harry's face. 'That was my fault, I'm afraid.'

Harry stared at the window in trepidation.

'Harry,' the professor continued, drawing his focus back as she lifted his chin with her fingers. 'That is not acceptable behaviour toward any child, do you recognise that?'

'I know,' Harry assured her quietly. 'But – it was punishment. It's not supposed to be fun.'

'It was cruel,' she told him firmly. 'Not punishment. And it will never happen again, not while I am alive, do you understand me?'

Harry nodded.

'At Hogwarts,' Minerva continued, trying to pull her emotions in line, 'Restriction means you will spend your free time under supervision in the library or the headmaster's quarters. It means you will spend more time revising or reading quietly, and less time flying or doing other things you enjoy. It is a punishment which serves a purpose. Just like detention, it is a time when you are meant to reflect on your actions, and think about what you will do differently in future. I know it is not an enjoyable experience, but I do hope that you can understand why Albus and I feel you need this period of reflection.'

'I understand,' Harry said, glumly. 'I just wish you wouldn't be so angry. I am sorry, you know.'

'I do know,' Minerva assured him, cupping his cheek affectionately. 'And I am glad you can identify your mistakes. It will keep you from repeating them.'

Harry nodded. Minerva wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with her thumb.

'Don't be so downcast, Harry,' she said gently. 'It isn't forever. And,' she hesitated. 'I am not angry with you, anymore. But you cannot scare me like that anymore. We cannot lose you, do you hear me?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Harry said, giving her a tentative smile.

'Good,' said Minerva, returning to her usual briskness as she stood. 'So that's quite enough of that, then.'

'Should I try the charm again?' Harry asked, climbing off the chair and looking a bit more cheerful.

Minerva sighed, considering the feather.

'I think we've had enough of the practical lessons for the moment,' she decided, banishing the quill back to its place on her desk. 'Let's do something more amusing. Perhaps… tea on the Astronomy Tower? It's a lovely day, and the turrets offer a spectacular view of the grounds. I often head up that direction to blow the cobwebs away.'

Harry brightened at once. 'Okay,' he agreed. 'That sounds great!'

'Excellent,' Minerva said, waving her wand once around the classroom to put the furniture to rights. 'Let's be off then. Perhaps we can discuss what you'd like to do for your birthday on Saturday.'

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'James?' Sirius called, stepping into the front hall and closing the door behind him. 'Lily?'

It was the last day of July. The baby was already almost a week late, but the healers thought he might still be a few more days. Lily was too huge to get comfortable anymore and could not get a decent night's rest, and James was so anxious that he could barely sit still for five minutes at a clip. Both were over-tired, irritable, and impatient. Though no longer living in the little cottage, Sirius had taken to stopping by every afternoon… just to be sure everything was alright. Usually, James was here to greet him at the door. He found the silence disquieting.

'James?' he called again, throwing his travelling cloak onto the bench.

'He's not here,' came Lily's strained voice. It was muffled, like she was speaking through the walls. 'He had to run out – some contact with the order he needed to reach. Albus came for him early this morning.'

Something felt off. Slowly, Sirius rounded the corner to peer down the corridor. The door to the loo was shut, but he could hear Lily breathing heavily behind it.

'Er – everything alright?' he asked, rapping once on the wood. There was silence, and then a sharp cry.

'Lily?!' Sirius called in fear, trying the handle. She'd locked the door.

'It's… fine,' she said, sounding breathless. 'Everything's fine. I'll… I'll be out in a moment. Just wait in the hall, won't you?'

'Er… yeah, alright,' Sirius agreed, backing away from the door with a frown. He made his way into the front hall again, running a hand through his hair as he worked through his nerves. His heart was beating a slight flutter in his chest – like even his magic could sense something wrong in the house.

After a few long minutes, he heard the door to the loo click open. Shuffling footsteps echoed down the corridor, as Lily's belly preceded her through into the hall. She was gripping the wood of the wall for support, her face pink and her hair slightly damp. Though it was coming fast on tea time, Lily was still wearing a scarlet dressing gown with the Gryffindor lion embroidered on the sleeve over what looked like a nightdress.

'Merlin, Lily, here,' Sirius said, hurrying to steer her onto the front hall bench. She was sweaty and shaking beneath his hands. He crouched in front of her in concern, cupping her cheek. 'You look like hell,' he told her, his voice almost angry in his worry. 'What was James thinking, leaving you in this state? How long have you felt ill?'

'I'm not ill,' she disagreed, shaking her head. 'It's… the baby.'

'The baby?' Sirius repeated distractedly, conjuring a damp flannel to soothe her clammy face.

'Mmm,' Lily agreed, closing her eyes at the coolness of the cloth. 'Poppy said it'd be a few more days… so I told him to go.'

'James?' Sirius asked, trying to follow the disjointed conversation.

'Mmm,' Lily murmured again. Her head was lolling slightly, as though she was about to fall asleep. ''S only a few hours, I said. We'll be fine.'

'Right,' said Sirius thickly, moving the cloth so he could feel her forehead. 'Well, no offence, love, but I don't think you're all that fine. Actually, I think we'd better call a healer or something; you're burning up. Come on, let's get you –'

He broke off, as Lily gave a sudden cry again. No longer looking remotely dreamy, she hunched in on herself in agony, nearly smacking her head into Sirius' nose. He dropped the flannel in fear and grabbed her shoulders to keep her from pitching off the bench.

'Lily, what –'

'It's… okay,' she said tensely, still bent over herself. 'It's okay,' she repeated. 'Okay.' She raised her head again as the pain seemed to subside, new beads of sweat covering her brow. 'It's just the baby,' she told him, locking her emerald eyes with his. 'He's coming.'

There was a beat of utter silence, and then Sirius sprang to his feet.

'WHAT THE FUCK, LILS!' Sirius ranted in panic.

He paced around the front hall in agitation, feeling like his brain was about to explode. His heart was hammering against his ribs.

'What do I do? Who do I call?'

'Healer,' Lily ground out, through gritted teeth again. 'We need –'

She doubled over in pain again. Sirius rushed back to her side, completely helpless.

'Is it supposed to do this?' he asked doubtfully, biting back against his own howl as Lily squeezed down on his hand so tightly he thought his fingers would fracture. The lights of the hall flickered, and Sirius glanced about nervously.

'It's… it's fine,' she gasped, loosening her grip a little as the wave of agony passed. 'This is… this is what happens, I think. It's labour.'

'It is SO not fine. Where the hell is James?!' Sirius ranted, trying to ease Lily off the bench and toward the sitting room.

'No – the bed,' she said, her fingers grappling the wood as he steered her around the doorframe. 'I don't – ah!'

She hunched over again as another contraction started. Sirius didn't know much about babies… but he was pretty sure the faster these pains came, the closer he was.

'Oh fuck, Merlin's balls, what the –'

'Sirius!' Lily growled, drowning him out. 'Stop it. Get a grip, and send word to headquarters.'

'Headquarters?!' Sirius repeated in alarm. 'No, Lily, we need St Mungo's. And James. We need James right fucking NOW!'

'No!' she cried, grasping his hand again. 'No hospital, Sirius. We can't. Albus says –'

'Sod Dumbledore!' Sirius swore, conjuring a chair and pushing her gently into it. Behind him, the glass face of the carriage clock exploded, shards of glass missing them by inches. 'This is definitely not supposed to happen like this, Lily. We need help. We need a healer. You need –'

'Sirius, listen to me!' Lily shouted.

She was panting and drenched in sweat now, her deep green eyes wide with pain and her face pale against the familiar scarlet dressing gown. But for the massive belly, she might have been ranting at him in the Gryffindor Common Room after he and James had come in at half three from a jaunt in the grounds… they might have been seventeen.

But they weren't.

'Sirius, breath,' she said, more quietly. 'It's alright.'

'It's not –'

'I'm having a baby,' she said slowly, as though Sirius couldn't see the evidence right in front of him. 'A wizarding child. This is the way it's supposed to be. I need to get to the bedroom, can you help me do that?'

'I – yeah, okay. Bedroom.' Sirius repeated.

He heaved Lily to her feet again, and helped her slowly down the corridor. The stairs were a little more difficult, and they had to stop twice while Lily fought her way through more contractions. By the time he had her settled on the massive bed, she was nearly breathless and quite incapable of speech.

'Lily, I –'

'It's alright,' she assured him, patting his hand clumsily. She was looking sleepy again in the wake of the last contraction. 'Use the fire – call for whoever's at headquarters. They can get in touch with James and the healer.'

'Right,' said Sirius, still feeling quite inadequate.

'And pull the covers up, would you?' she asked quietly, as he slid off the edge of the bed for the fireplace. 'I'm cold.'

Sirius gave her a funny look. It was July, after all, and the little cottage was almost uncomfortably warm despite the cooling charms he and James had cast on the place to make it more palatable to the heavily pregnant witch over the past two months. But he did not dare second guess her. Instead, he reached to pull the duvet from under her legs.

And froze.

'Lily –'

'Come on, Sirius,' she complained.

'Lily –'

'Siri –'

'Lily, you're bleeding!' he said in panic. He dragged the covers back with a yank, staring in horror at the bedsheets.

They were drenched in blood. Far, far too much blood. Even Sirius, who knew nothing of babies or labour or any of the rest of it, was positive this was not supposed to happen.

Lily raised her head just a fraction off the pillow, looking dazed as she surveyed the mess of a bed beneath her.

'Call,' she said, her jaw set.

'You need to be in hospi–'

'No!' Lily shouted again, her voice gurgling in another howl of pain. 'It's… not safe… the baby…'

And she trailed off, eyes rolling back in her head.

'Lily?' Sirius called, shaking her by the shoulder. 'LILY!?'

Her head lolled as he shook, streaming red across her pillow even while it continued to pool beneath her. Sirius felt his stomach turning with fear as he tried to will his brain back into function.

Call.

And stop the blood.

'Right,' he said aloud. 'Right.'

There was no time for the floo now. Praying that Albus was within reach, he conjured a patronus, sending it straight to the headmaster with his pleas. Let Albus deal with James, and the healer.

He swirled his wand in the air, summoning a pile of fresh towels. Unsure of what to do and terrified he might muck everything up, he gathered the lot together and stuffed them as hard as he could between Lily's legs where the bleeding was heaviest, trying with all his might not to look too closely or think too much about the danger. He pressed hard against the pile with both hands. He could still feel the blood.

Hold her together. Just hold her together.

Dumbledore would come. James would come. Healers would come.

They had to.

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Review Responses, Chapter 14:

BlueLuver5000: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking it so far.

AlsoKnownAsMatt: Thank you for reviewing again and for your kind wishes! I'm glad you like the growing tension – it's certainly an interesting dynamic developing: Harry starting to become his own person as he rapidly leaves childhood; Albus struggling with the balance of his own personal responsibilities to both Harry the wider world, and the more ordinary difficulties of raising a child who will not be so for long. He knows he has to mould Harry into a good and humble person, and yet he also knows he is raising the only possible Saviour; he wants Harry to be happy and out of danger, and yet he recognises that without facing difficulties and dangers, he will not be ready for the ultimate fight. And, most ominously, he loves Harry more than his own life; and yet he grows ever closer to unravelling the mysteries of Voldemort's horcruxes, the true nature of the prophecy, and what Harry's destiny may become. I don't envy Albus's position in the slightest. But, like any parent, he hopes that Harry will not make the same mistakes that he regrets so dearly from his own youth.

Psitomer: Thank you for reviewing the chapter, and for your support (both on story and on babies)! I appreciate the well-wishes in both areas…

To answer your query on Albus and Gellert… I am deliberately leaving portions of their past relationship up to interpretation by the reader, at least at this point. This is mostly out of deference to JKR, and her revelations post-DH about her views on Albus's sexuality. I am personally writing with an eye to Albus-Minerva, and can promise there will definitely be no future Albus-Gellert romance. I do not envision that Albus and Gellert were ever involved in that way; but I do think it is possible Albus had feelings toward him at one point – he loved him, certainly. I envision fascination, enthralment, even adoration. Could that have been romantic in nature, at least for Albus? Sure. But I leave that to the reader. Love, as Albus so rightly says, is sometimes too complex for expression or understanding… as is hate. There's a little of both in there for Albus and Gellert, I think.

I'm glad you enjoyed Drunk Snape and his row with Remus. And you're right – Severus's biggest problem here is his inability to be honest with himself, not the people who are on his back. And happy you liked the bit with Aberforth – he's so different from Albus… and then, at times, so similar, albeit in a more ruffian incarnation. It's a fun relationship to explore.

Won't give spoilers on the overall timeline, but there are definitely breadcrumbs dropped in these past few chapters – things that are setting wheels in motion in Albus's brain. Of course, it's so frustrating for us – who know the truth – to watch… but as a solicitor myself I do sympathise in part with what the characters are feeling. It is so rare that someone is wrongly convicted of murder (despite what the telly sometimes shows) – it would be near to impossible to convince me, had I tried the case, that someone I'd helped put away was truly innocent of the crime… if I'd examined all the evidence, fought for the sentence, thought I really knew the details of what had happened. Of course, if for some reason I did discover that a man was innocent, I would do everything in my power – and as quickly as possible – to put the situation to rights. I identify with Albus here; I think it devastated him to discover Sirius's betrayal, but I think he's adamant in his belief that it was a betrayal. Those seeds of doubt have been sown, but growing them will take some cultivation.

Hope you sorted everything with your laptop and projects – and thank you again for reviewing!

LordTicky: Thank you for your continued support! It's fun to see how readers react to Grindelwald – and I'm very happy you like their chats! Gellert may be my absolute favourite character to get inside the head of… probably because it's such a stark change from the others, and he's so underutilised in canon. And would love advice or tips (even over internet!) – twins do not run in my family, so though both James and I have extensive relations, neither of us has any experience with twins… it will be a whole new level of madness, I don't doubt.

AECM: Thank you for your review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter too (and the update time – it was the fastest I could manage)! : )

Wide Eyed and Curious: Thank you so much for reviewing again, and for your compliments! I'm really glad you're enjoying how the characters develop here. And thank you for your blessings – here's hoping it's a smooth(ish) ride (at least until they actually get here)!

To the Guest Reviewer: Thank you so much for your support! I'm glad you are liking the story so much, and hope you will continue to enjoy it in future. Happy you liked the Harry revelation scene… there's definitely another on the horizon, as Harry has yet to find out the truly pivotal aspect of his father's relationship to Sirius. Hopefully, it will live up to expectations. And thank you for the well wishes! I'll certainly keep updating as things move forward.

Leonore: Thank you again for your review and enthusiasm! I compliment you on your critical reading skills, haha – those were precisely the parallels this chapter was meant to highlight. We'll definitely see more of both Aberforth and Gellert in future. I hope you enjoyed Chapter 15!

Babascoop: Thank you for your review! Yes, I am in agreement that the moment of truth is really, as Albus alluded to here, the beginning of the end of Harry's childhood. It is a turning point I intend to handle very carefully – and by degree. Clearly, he knows much more at this point than he did in canon (having figured out by now that Remus, James, and Sirius were all friends, and that all three disliked Snape). Half-truths, however, sometimes draw out more tension than continued obliviousness, or dumping everything at once. We can obviously see that in Albus's struggle – internally and with others – over revealing the rest of Black's history to Harry. And it will have its own set of consequences, when – as is inevitable – Harry does find out everything. We saw a bit of his reaction here; but how that might change, intensify, or backfire once he learns just how deeply his life is entwined with Sirius Black… that remains to be seen.

Closer bond with Snape… yes, to some degree this is true; certainly they understand each other more now than they perhaps ever did in canon (at least, until Harry saw Snape's memories). I won't expound too much on my thoughts on this relationship development, as I went rather in-depth in my response to another reader's query below. But yes, I think Albus has certainly seen glimpses of this. Remus – perhaps he is seeing it too… this is, after all, the second Harry-centric interaction he's had with Snape and rather a reversal of roles, as in the first it was Snape chewing out Remus for his reckless actions concerning Harry. But I think here, for both Harry and Snape, their reactions are quite based in conscience, and guilt. It's something I wanted to subtlety contrast with Grindelwald – for whom many things are calculated to an almost maniacal degree of coldness. Harry defends Snape because he knows he should never have run off into the forest, and he knows Snape was only in the clearing because he summoned him there, and he knows Snape didn't really intend that Harry should be injured. He doesn't know Snape's significant history with Black, however, as Minerva and Remus certainly do… and only Albus, of course, has been gifted with the ultimate knowledge that Severus blames Black for taking away the woman he loved, and that his own guilt from that tragedy is stirred by the mere memory of Sirius Black. That, of course, changes the way the adults view Snape's actions as compared to Harry.

Guilt and innocence… is a central tenet of this book. What is guilt? What is innocence? What is it we fear when contemplating the balance?

Gellert is well-informed; although here, most of his information comes directly from the missive he received earlier in Part II, and the papers that give public information. The eagle is helpful, of course, but I think most of Grindelwald's brilliance is that he is excellent at puzzle-solving; excellent at reading people; and excellent at correctly stringing seemingly incongruous scraps of intelligence into a wider story. It's a gift that Albus shares – which only increases his wariness, and – perhaps – his fascination. I think you are correct – in many ways, Albus sees in Gellert the way his life could have gone if he'd made one different decision; given in to temptation; or, perhaps, listened to his darker instincts. I used the Icarus allusion here deliberately – because, really, Gellert Grindelwald is the Icarus here: he flew too close to the sun, and was ultimately destroyed by his own hubris. It is what Albus – my Albus and the canon Albus – always fears for Harry.

Drunk Snape. I hesitated on this, because while Severus enjoys a glass of wine or a scotch at times, he is adamant in his abhorrence of drunks early on in this series, when we see his memories of childhood and his father (see, e.g. Part I, Chapter Seven, "Potions, Potions Masters, and Poison" – where he throws the glass against the wall in temper; or Part I, Chapter Twelve, "How to Bewitch the Mind" – where he reminisces in disgust that drinking before dinner has always reminded him of his father). However, I think Sirius's escape – and his continued existence – preys on Severus's mind like a parasite, driving him near to madness. I think madness is destructive, and it often has consequences. I think Severus strongly associates drinking alone with self-loathing, perhaps even self-destruction. And I thought it was important to bring him to that point here.

Albus/Gellert: I addressed this in a response above, so I'll skip it here. But, in a nutshell, I am leaving it deliberately ambiguous… at least for now.

Thank you again for reviewing, and hope you enjoyed Chapter 15!

WritersLife3: Thank you for your review! I hope you're liking the story thus far. I'm hesitant to promise you will see exactly what you've requested… but I think that we'll get more of that sort of behaviour in future. Harry certainly knows he was in the wrong; but so was Severus, to be fair. This chapter, we've seen a little of how that dichotomy plays out. Their relationship is definitely changing, and I think Harry understands Snape a bit better than he perhaps did in canon – is not quite as thoroughly black/white on what kind of man Snape is. Severus, in turn, definitely is starting to see other sides of Harry, and perhaps even feel protectiveness that stretches beyond what he's promised to Albus and to Lily. But I still don't think we're quite at friendship between them… it's one thing to feel badly that you accidentally let your thirst for vengeance overrule your sensibilities and injured a child; it is quite another to love that child.

I certainly don't think Harry blames Severus, in the way that Minerva, Albus, and even Remus seem to. Minerva sees his actions as reckless, destructive, and nasty. Albus recognises that Snape is probably sorry for it, but he is still angry enough to threaten him quite severely. And Remus… well, I think Remus was probably angriest of the bunch. But Remus has his own demons – significant ones, at that – and he recognises that people are sometimes monsters whether they want to be or not; the difference is, those with a conscience regret their rash actions. I think he saw this in Severus last chapter – both in the way he spoke and in the way he was dealing with his turmoil of emotions about the incident.

Although the relationship between Severus and Harry is certainly a key part of this story and will continue to be as it develops, it isn't going to be a Severitus or Sevitus fic. In any case, I hope you like the direction we move in.