FALLING WITH GRACE
by shiiki

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Naming of a Saviour

February – March, 1980

February started with the loss of Edgar Bones and his family, murdered in their own home by a whole gang of Death Eaters – it had taken no less than ten. Lily, despite James's protests ('I'm pregnant, not invalid!' she had countered), had joined the rescue team. When they arrived, Edgar's wife and son had already fallen and Edgar himself had been single-handedly fighting three Death Eaters and trying to shield his daughter against a fourth. They were too late to stop the two killing curses streaking out towards father and daughter; Lily watched him fall, as though in slow motion, his face twisted in concern for his young girl, who crumpled like a rag doll. Gideon Prewett was so incensed that he killed the Death Eater responsible on the spot. James and Sirius Stunned another who had hesitated to fire the Dark Mark into the air, but the others escaped.

'We'll pick off the rest of you, one by one,' snarled one of them before Disapparating.

There was nothing to do but inform the Ministry that there had been another murder. Amelia Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement arrived, white-faced and shaking; Edgar was her nephew. Frank and Alice stayed to take care of matters with the Aurors while the rest of the Order went home, devastated by the loss of yet another of their ranks. Lily had to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion for Gideon Prewett, who was distraught at having actually killed a man – even if he had been a Death Eater.

The worst news of all came in March, when Dumbledore called Lily and James and Frank and Alice to Hogwarts unexpectedly.

'There has been a prophecy made, which may affect your lives irreversibly,' he said gravely.

James looked rather disbelieving. 'A prophecy, sir? What could a prophecy have to do with us?'

'Please hear me out first, James. Last week, I made my way to the Hog's Head to interview an applicant for the post of Divination teacher. She made a most alarming prediction … which I will allow you to hear now.' Drawing out a shallow stone basin with runic carvings etched into its sides, he dipped his wand into its misty contents.

The ghostly figure of a very thin woman rose out of the basin, revolving slowly. She resembled a grasshopper with her enormous round glasses and skinny wrists protruding from underneath a few layers of shawls wrapped around her torso. In a strident voice, she announced:

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …'

Having made this pronouncement, the silvery figure sank back into the basin just as she had rose. Lily watched her, transfixed, the words revolving in her ears just as the figure had been. Who was this child who might have the power to destroy Voldemort? Hers? Her hand moved instinctively to her belly. It hadn't ballooned out much yet, unlike Alice, who though was only about a month further along, had an abdomen the size of a Quaffle. But Lily could still sense the stirring of the life beginning inside her.

'I don't understand,' Frank was saying. 'There's no certainty that this prophecy will be fulfilled. I know something about prophecies – there's a hall of them in the Department of Mysteries that have never come true!'

'Yes – I agree, Frank,' said Dumbledore. 'I do not believe that our destinies depend on what is foretold; rather, it is our choices that make the difference. In this case, however, it is Voldemort's choice that will affect you. I regret to say that I was not the only person who bore witness to this prophecy. A servant of Voldemort overheard the first part of this prophecy, and I do not doubt that right now Voldemort will be actively hunting for the one whom he believes will be his deadliest foe. He does not understand, however, that in doing so, he may very well hand-pick his own adversary.'

'So he'll just be after us, thinking that either Lily or I may be carrying his downfall?' said Alice.

'I admit I do not know if Voldemort will wait for the birth of the child before marking him down. As it is, I believe he may not know yet that either of you are expecting…but it is a matter of time. He will recall that the four of you have each faced him three times and survived, and he will discover your pregnancy – as well as the due dates, for he has spies in many places. I'm sure the four of you realise the implications of having Alice and Lily due in July …'

Suddenly, Lily realised with huge relief that Dumbledore had got it wrong; the prophecy could not refer to her. '… born as the seventh month dies …' – her son was due in August!

'Sir, there's been a mistake,' she said thankfully. 'I'm due in August, not July.'

James looked as relieved as she was. But Dumbledore's eyebrows were furrowed.

'The distinction between a July and an August due date is not very clear …'

'What if your baby comes early?' said Alice softly.

'He won't!' Lily wouldn't allow herself to believe it. 'Don't say it, Alice.'

'Lily –'

'No!'

'I do admit,' said Dumbledore calmly, 'that Frank and Alice appear to be in graver danger.'

Alice placed a hand protectively over her belly. Lily felt like doing the same, only – only she couldn't accept it. Voldemort wouldn't – couldn't come after her unborn child.

'I would suggest,' Dumbledore continued, 'that you go into hiding at once.' He was looking directly at Alice, but Lily had a feeling he was addressing her as well.

Frank looked stunned and apprehensive. His arm went protectively around his wife. Alice, however, though her face was white as a sheet, shrugged it off, and stepped forward bravely.

'I swear on my life that Voldemort will never take my child. We will go into hiding at once.'

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. 'If you could stay a few moments after, we can discuss the details … As for James and Lily …'

She felt torn – it wasn't that she didn't want to keep her baby safe. They could hide, withdraw from the fight and disappear, but Voldemort would continue to hunt them, and how could anyone guarantee that they would be safe, with Voldemort getting stronger by the day?

'Wouldn't hiding be too obvious, Professor?' James pointed out suddenly. Lily felt a sudden rush of relief. It was so logical – if they ran, it was a reason for Voldemort to give chase. 'Voldemort would guess why – we would be even more of a target.'

'That is true,' said Dumbledore, nodding.

'Isn't that true for us as well?' said Frank. 'We don't know for sure that Voldemort knows we're expecting –'

'Frank!' said Alice exasperatedly. 'Look at me. It's not going to be easy to hide this.' She patted her swollen belly tenderly. 'And besides, your mother knows he's due in July, and who knows how many relatives she's told. And you know that we can't trust anyone now –'

Dumbledore coughed and looked at all of them sorrowfully. 'I understand that you would rather be actively helping the Order, Frank,' said Dumbledore gently, 'but by protecting your child, you may be doing us the greatest service possible.'

Lily found herself staring at Alice with great respect. She found herself recalling catechism lessons from her childhood. Like Mary, mother of Jesus, this was the woman chosen to bear the prospective saviour of the wizarding world.

'Whatever he may turn out to be,' said Alice finally, 'he is still my child first and foremost. And I will protect him at all costs.'

'Above all, a mother's love is the most powerful,' said Dumbledore approvingly. 'We had better discuss how you will go into hiding now. James, Lily, if you're sure …'

James glanced at her – a split second's hesitation – and she nodded in reassurance. 'We're sure,' he said.

'I thank you for coming, then.'

'Thank you, Professor,' said Lily empathically, as she and James rose to leave.

'Do be careful Lily,' urged Alice. Lily hugged her friend tightly.

'I will. Take care of yourself … and the little one.'

'Neville,' said Alice softly. 'We're going to call him Neville.'

---

'Neville Longbottom, saviour of the wizarding world,' said James thoughtfully, as they made their way down one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade so that they could Apparate home.

'Don't joke about it!' Lily choked out. 'It's terrible – it's cruel – I hate Voldemort!'

James halted in his steps, and drew her close. Lily laid her head on his shoulder.

'I'm scared, James,' she whispered. 'If – if it were us – if he thought it were us – he'd kill me, he'd kill our baby –'

'I won't let that happen,' said James forcefully. 'I'll die before I let anything happen to you. You know that. And nothing's going to happen. Once July has come and gone, we won't have to worry.'

And if it happens in July … James didn't say it, but Lily knew the unspoken question, the chilling possibility that Alice had raised but neither wanted to accept was running through both of their minds: What would they do if their child was born in July?

'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,' said James, although neither had voiced their worry. 'Likely we'll find we've been worrying for nothing.'

Lily nodded mutely into James's shoulder. It was a rare hope – she tried to feel comforted.

'So,' said James, trying to change the subject once they continued on their way. 'What'll we call the new Potter, then?'

'A boy,' said Lily automatically. 'It'll be a boy.'

'How do you know?'

'I just do. Call it a mother's intuition.'

'A boy,' said James happily. 'James Junior?'

'I'm not having another you running around the house!' said Lily, alarmed. 'Besides, it'd be too confusing, with two Jameses. He'd end up with a nickname. We should give him a name he can use.'

'I know – call him Albus! I'm sure Dumbledore would be pleased …'

Lily considered this. Then she shuddered.

'Albus Potter. What does that sound like to you?'

James looked confused. 'It sounds impressive … don't you think so?'

'Yes, exactly. It sounds like the name of a hero, James.'

'Isn't that good?'

'No! James, I don't want him a saviour of the world. I want my son – our son – safe and happy and normal and – and – not some prophesised world-saver! I don't want Voldemort after him, damn it!'

'Lily, relax! It's just a name, right?'

'I – I just don't want – oh James, can't we give him a nice, normal name?'

'Well … unless you want to call him Tom, Dick, or Harry, I can't think what –'

'Tom Potter. Dick Potter. Harry Potter.' Lily was already running through each name.

'Harry Potter,' she repeated, lingering on the last option.

'Hey, I like that,' said James. 'Harry.' He looked wistful, and Lily recalled suddenly that James's elder sister, who had been a victim of the Dark Arts, had been named 'Harriet'.

'He could be named for Harriet,' she said softly. How coincidental that they had stumbled upon such a simple, but suitable name!

James nodded. 'Thank you. It's perfect.'

'Yes it is. And it's a safe, commonplace name,' said Lily happily. 'Whoever heard of a Harry saving the world?'

James laughed. 'I think you're being paranoid. But Harry it is, then. Harry Potter.'