Chapter 2:

..

It was nearing the end of February, and the snow was beginning to melt off the cottage roof and icicles dripped from the eaves onto the snow below. She opened the windows every morning to let in the fresh ocean breeze off the cliffs and drank peppermint tea in front of the fire as cool air filtered through the house. She breathed deeply and sank back into herself, calm for the first time in days.

As of today, she was four months pregnant, and the first signs of her pregnancy were becoming visible. Her belly formed a little bump beneath her t-shirts and she cupped it gently, in awe of what her body was capable of. Of what her body could do, given love and protection and what a wonder it could create. In five months, they'd have a baby, a gift from the gods; a child to love and to cherish and to hold, a baby they could teach the art of empathy and giving, of bravery and sacrifice and doing the right thing when everyone else was going the wrong way. A baby who was so innocent born into a war, a baby who could bring peace and joy to those who needed it the most.

Lily put down her cup and hugged her knees to her chest, burrowing her head in her arms as she cradled her baby from within, the baby she never knew she wanted but could no longer live without. A baby, her baby. She was going to be a mum.

"I love you, little one," she said quietly, a smile tugging at her lips as tears dripped down her cheeks. "Little baby, your mum loves you so much."

...

Morning sickness had plagued her for weeks- she was unable to keep anything down and was constantly tired and nauseous. James had brought back loads of Pepper Up potion for her the last time he had been in London but her supplies were running low. She bought ginger from the Muggle market and had ginger tea every morning trying to offset it to little success. She spent her days with oatmeal and a glass of water by her side trying to keep something, anything down. She spent a lot of time lying in bed, a book propped up on a pillow, Muggle records playing quietly in the background. She often didn't get out of her pyjamas, choosing to be comfortable and sick rather than uncomfortable and unhappy.

Looking in the mirror, she had lost weight too, she had bags under her eyes and her hair had lost its shine. She tried for a smile but it didn't come as easily as it once had. Her clothes were dirty and the house was dirty and she had no motivation to do anything. She wanted to sit still and do nothing. Deep down she knew that she couldn't- sitting still and missing him without doing anything about it wasn't productive. So she cleaned, did a load of laundry in-between trips to the loo to be sick. She made her mum's chicken noodle soup and made herself eat it. She had to be strong, even if it meant getting up and doing a load of laundry. She couldn't sit and wait for her hero to return like some lost damsel in distress. She was stronger than this, she was Lily Evans, dammit and she could do anything. She could withstand anything, and could deal with this as she always had- even if it burned she would push forward.

Lily was beginning to feel a huge personality shift occurring inside herself. No longer was she the hot tempered, rebellious person she was at Hogwarts, indeed, not even the person she was when they were first married. The war had aged her, she was more mature, less concerned about the thrill of the chase and more content with normalcy and peace and quiet. Scotland had aged her, isolation and fear had all done their job in maturing her into who she was now. This tiny house and the wide open cliffs and fields changed her from the inside out.

She didn't have it in her to rebel any longer, this wasn't the time to push her limits. It was a time to think hard of what she was fighting for and decide if it was worth it or not to continue. And was it? Lily wasn't completely sure. But one thing she did know was that Voldemort was her enemy, and if defeating him meant sacrificing time with James so he could work with the order, giving up her freedom, her friends and her family and spending more than her fare share of time alone so they could be safe, so be it. He had to die, this had to end. So maybe she did have her mind made up.

Maybe she understood what was on the line, what the cost of his defeat truly was, even then, even in February 1980, a year and eight months before the sword would drop. She didn't feel twenty any longer, didn't feel like she was just married and just beginning her life. She felt tired, tired of fighting and running and hiding. Tired of losing James to Order missions when he could be at home with her. She didn't care that it was cowardly to think that way, she knew that James needed to fight, needed to feel useful. She knew that he was fighting for a better world, and she was proud of him. But she wanted him home more.

Her own thoughts of inadequacy plagued her sitting alone in the house, she felt cowardly, sitting back letting others take the brunt of the fight. She wanted to be involved, wanted to fight Voldemort rather than let others do it. She knew she couldn't, it wasn't worth the risk to their baby in something as stupid as fighting. She wasn't just putting her own life on the line anymore, this was her child- the one thing she knew she had to protect. Even at the cost of her life. But still the thought of her uselessness nagged at her. She was in hiding, wasn't that already unfair to those who were honour bound to fight?

Lily wondered what Alice was thinking, all the way in Ireland. Did she feel like she was doing the right thing? Siting on the sidelines while others protected her and her baby? Did she feel as useless as she did? Lily hoped not, this anxious waiting was eating away at her piece by piece. Was it fair to herself to think that way? She had no right to think one way or another. This was the way things were- this was the reality of being in hiding, these feelings of inadequacy, of loneliness and self-doubt. It was only natural to think that she was in the wrong when she had nobody to tell her otherwise.

James wouldn't like this kind of thought, he would call her the bravest person he knew because his idea of bravery and hers had been skewed in war. Bravery for him was doing what was right, no matter the cost. Bravery for him was learning dangerous magic and becoming an Animagi when he was fifteen. Brave for him was standing up to pureblood supremacy in his own ways and dealing justice how he saw fit. It was running around in the Shrieking Shack every full moon keeping his friend safe from himself. Bravery was standing at Lupin's side when most of the Ministry of Magic wanted him in the werewolf colony.

Bravery meant marrying her even though it was dangerous to, bravery meant staying by her side and loving her even though it made no sense. But it was different for her. Her idea of bravery now included the mundane, because she had two people to protect now and not just one. Bravery for her meant protecting their child and staying safe in her own ways. Bravery for her had once meant fighting battles and protecting allies, fighting and dying with friends by her side. It did no longer. She wasn't naive enough to believe that could work any longer. Bravery was subjective, she would learn, and couldn't be defined with something as superfluous as words. Bravery meant going down to the Muggle town near them and having coffee even though it scared her to be so close to Muggle society and yet feel so separated from it. Bravery was knowing that James might never come home again and she might have to raise their child on her own. Bravery was acknowledging that some day she would be dead, someday James would be dead all of them would be dead and the world would end and there was nothing she could do but wait for that day to come.

Bravery was staying soft even though her world was hard.

She found bravery in the everyday things, and for now, that was enough.

...

The wind was strong on the cliffs, but her head was full and the fresh air welcome. She had pulled on three of her warmest jumpers, wrapped James' Gryffindor scarf around her neck and pulled a dry blanket from the line and sat on the cliffs with her hardcover copy of Emma, the last book in the set she had bought a month ago. In the distance, little coves and rock outcroppings formed a bay, vaguely c-shaped. The beach was far below, smooth stones and sand the waves crashed upon and receded from. The grasses bent around her in the wind, pulling her hair from its messy braid.

She took a sip of her tea before grimacing and setting it back down. She lied flat on her back and counted to ten, trying to overcome her nausea. It had been getting worse as of late, and entire days were spent immobile in bed, lying gently inclined as a way by which to discourage nausea, a magically warmed bag of beans on her back and a washcloth over her eyes. Good days too, intermixed with the bad, but Lily felt like she was stuck in a limbo of menstrual pain that never seemed to wane. But today was a good day, with some deep breaths she felt her nausea recede, so she gently sat up and crossed her legs beneath her; a position she had always found the most comfortable when seated.

It looked like it was going to rain, she thought; heavy grey clouds crowded the horizon. But it was still dry and cool, so she tucked the tissue bookmarking her page under her knee and began to read.

By noon, three raindrops had fallen on her book, and she could not for the life of her remember the umbrella charm (it was p something, she thought, and a flick of the wrist) so she tucked her book to her chest and swept her blanket into her arms and walked back into the house.

By the time she made it back, her hair was wet and the book damp. She undid the wards surrounding the house, opened the door and re-cast them, thick veils of magic surrounded the house and sealed the walls, making them impervious to unwelcome entry.

She cast a quick drying spell on her book and put it on the kitchen table. The wind was hitting the house at full force, huge gusts of wind that whistled from cracks in the windows and under the door. The fire continued to crackle, but less so than earlier so she added another log in order to heat up the house. She pushed a towel under the door and set the kettle on the cooker for some tea. Maybe she'd have soup later, she thought. Something warm with cream and lots of salt.

Just when the kettle whistled, there was a firm knocking at the door.

Lily stopped dead, the kettle in one hand and a tea cup in the other. She was so startled, she nearly dropped it, but regained her senses and put both down on the counter. No one knew they existed, she thought desperately. Not even the Marauders, not the Order or any of their school friends. The house shouldn't even be visible so many wards on it. Maybe she hadn't cast them correctly, maybe they had been undone somehow. Maybe Voldemort had found her at last.

But a Death Eater wouldn't knock, she thought desperately. He'd just barge in and kill me.

Again, the doorknob rattled and she jumped. She snatched her wand from the couch and poised in front of the door; she hadn't held her wand defensively in four months and her hand was shaking with fear.

"Hello?" She said bravely. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Lils, open the door."

Her fear melted and she made to unlock the door, but stopped at the last second, remembering the passwords they had made all those years ago when they weren't sure who could be at the door.

"What did I dress up as for the Halloween party in sixth year?" she asked, one ear against the doorframe, her hands shaking and clammy.

"A sexy witch," he said back with a smile in his words, and Lily shook from excess adrenaline. "What did Snuffles and I buy to impress Lily Evans in sixth year?"

"A motorbike," she said, and unlocked the door. "Oh James,"

"Hold on, don't hug me yet. I'm soaking wet," he said, laughing. "Let me take this off first,"

He unwrapped a long grey scarf from his neck and peeled off his leather jacket -both of which were sopping wet- and dropped them to the floor.

"Gods," he said, and wrapped her in his arms and kissed her neck. "I'm never leaving again, I swear. I missed you so much,"

Lily choked quietly, tears running freely down her cheeks. "I thought you were a Death Eater,"

"Sorry I scared you,"

Lily exhaled quickly and smiled, tears running down her face. James was home.

...

They spent the night eating the soup Lily made; a white bean soup she hadn't known herself capable of. But it tasted like home, and with James beside her she was satisfied. He didn't talk about the Order, and she didn't talk about her loneliness. There was no use to letting the outside world seep into their little house; it kept him sane to think that she was safe here. So they laughed about the cat chasing Lily's wool balls and getting stuck behind the cooker. They spoke about the baby, how big he was getting, how she'd be the size of a house by summer. He pushed back his chair and spread his rough and broken hands over her soft belly and marvelled at their baby, tears in his eyes while she glowed with pride. This is important, he'd said then. This is life, Lily, the life we've made together. This baby is living proof of how much I love you.

He washed the dishes and she dried, a wash cloth swung over her shoulder and Grimm circling their ankles. The wind howled and the rain pelted the windows, but they spent the evening on the couch, the fire lit and candle light dancing off the walls. She told him about Emma and he read her the Puddlemore United stats, one of his legs between hers, his hands round her waist and his face in her neck. Once he couldn't keep his eyes open, they walked hand in hand to bed, the floorboards creaking, the smell of candle smoke heavy in the air.

Her hair hung like copper dangling over the pillows, his face scratched her neck with an unkept beard, the soft plaid of his pyjama bottoms warm against her bare legs. She smiled with her eyes closed, and James kissed the soft hollow of her neck, his other hand spread protectively over her little belly.

"I wish I never had to leave," he whispered, burrowing his face in her neck. "I could stay here forever,"

"Staying safe, baking buns, reading novels and holding hands on the cliffs."

"Actually building the cot," he said cheekily, and Lily smiled. "Making love in front of the fireplace."

"A perfect life."

"I love you," he said earnestly, and rose up to kiss her. "I don't say it enough, but I love you. I don't ever want to leave, Lily,"

"Shh," she said, holding a finger over his lips. "There is no one else. We're the only people left in the world,"

...

They spoke about their dreams; things they wished they'd done and hoped to do someday. Things they'd do, places they'd go, people they hoped to see again. They spoke of the nights spent together and the lazy mornings after, the Saturday afternoons in the Gryffindor common room and the taste of his mother's blueberry pie. They reminisced the night shifts they had spent walking the halls of Hogwarts hand in hand looking for a couples hiding in broom cupboards, stolen biscuits from the kitchens in their pockets. James told her about the night he had told his Mum he was going to drop out of school to join the Order in sixth year, how livid she had been.

"I would be too, if you had said the same to me." Lily replied, resting her head on James' chest.

James smiled, and recanted the memory for her.

…

"James, you're finishing school." Dorea said with a strange hard tone to her voice. Behind her, Sirius sat on the counter, eating an apple, watching Dorea with as much apprehension as James was. James' mum had never put their foot down before.

"Mum, I'm of age, school is useless at this point anyway. I'd rather be protecting people and helping defeat Voldemort than sitting in Charms!"

"I don't care," she said, her chin quivering. "I don't want you on the front lines, fighting with Dumbledore. No matter how noble it may be, it's not worth you dying, James!"

"Yeah listen to your mother, Prongs."

"Stay out of it," James snapped, and put a hand on his mum's shoulder, who tensed under his touch.

"Listen," he said quietly. "I'm not doing this to be rebellious or stupid, Mum. I'm doing it because I can't stand the thought of sitting on the sidelines while people risk their lives to bring Voldemort down! I can't stand it!"

"I know," she said kindly, "it's what I love about you, James. You always put others first. But listen to me, just this once. You have people who need you too. Your father and I need you. Peter and Remus and Sirius need you. Lily needs you. You're not fourteen and free anymore. You have responsibilities to the people who love you and need you alive in order to keep living themselves."

"That sounds like a cowardly way of living," James said.

"No it's not," she said. "Sweetheart, its taking into account the losses that could result and going forward differently. You're so often reckless, but this is bigger than, than pranking Snape or skipping class or becoming illegal Animagi. This is laying your life on the line. This is seeing friends die and family die and your future being taken away from you. This is losing everything you fought so hard to have, and I can't accept that future for you, James. Not yet. Graduate. Make it these next couple of months and join later. I've always wanted to see you graduate."

"Plus you get more time with Evans if you go back to school,"

"Screw off, mate."

"I don't have any right to tell you what to do anymore, James." Mrs Potter said, "You're of age. Your father and I raised you well, you're brave and caring and smart and we love you too much to lead with your head instead of your heart. Go back to her. Go back to Lily. She's always been your moral compass."

…

James had called Lily from the Muggle pub across the street that night and she spent the rest of Easter break at Potter Manor, getting to know his parents and their elves and her new boyfriend in his own home. She slept in the spare room across the hall from James and Sirius' bedrooms and fantasized about being so close to him, and yet so far away at the same time.

She spent her afternoons playing Quidditch with them, having lemonade and pumpkin juice and homemade blueberry pie by the fireplace in the living room and talking the nights away.

She told them about Petunia, she told them about Snape. She told them about her childhood in Spinners End and Cokeworth and how she first used magic when she was nine to make a flower grow in her hand. They in turn told her about their childhoods, about how Sirius had been blasted off the Black family tree the year before and wasn't welcome there anymore. James worried about his parents health, how they always tried too hard and would work themselves to death someday.

She told them about her dream to become a healer after she watched a friend die and couldn't do anything about it. James wanted to be an Auror and Sirius wanted to be a Quidditch player. But James said his dream would have to go on hold until Voldemort was dead and the world was at peace again.

"What if he never gets defeated, mate?" Sirius said quietly. "What then? You can't put your dreams on hold forever."

"He'll die," James said resolutely. "He has to."

Neither Lily nor Sirius had the heart to contradict him.

...

They talked about the future like it would never come, and perhaps that future they imagined for themselves wouldn't. No matter how hard you try you can't plan for your perfect future, life always gets in the way.

Or in this case, Voldemort. The world was dark while he was alive. Their whole world was shrouded, Diagon Alley was cast in dark shadows, full of people with their eyes fixed firmly on the pavement walking quickly from one place to the next. Hogsmeade was much the same- they had cancelled weekend visits after a Death Eater raid killed four people in their year alone six months before. The Ministry of Magic was near corrupt and all the Prophet had to say in those days was lies. Death Eater propaganda filled every waking moment, and it was only getting worse.

Hogwarts was the only place left unaffected- but those who came brought it with them. Their fear, their anxieties broke the magical defences surrounding the school and permeated the halls with a rising tension that never seemed to plateau. Dementors surrounded the village and cast dark shadows and exhaled their cold, stale breath into the air, making the whole world shiver.

But they found happy moments intermingled with that of the was light there too, even amongst all that darkness that pressed in on all sides. Those who had the power to say Expecto Patronum in those days were the real survivors, because happy memories were the only salve to protect one from the bad ones.

There was happiness too, even there, even in 1980 when the entire world was scared and cold and held in the dark.

Joy existed, but it was scarce. People were afraid to be happy when so much evil existed, scared to really live when so many had already died. But Lily knew living was important, and so did James. So they tried their best to find happiness in the small things, capture it in order to share it with others. They had found it in the small things, kept joy close so it would never be forgotten.

…

"WILL YOU STOP TORTURING THE DARN CAT!"

"I don't know what you're talking about Evans," James said, levitating a ball of string while Grimm desperately tried to reach it. James grinned up at Lily as she glared at him. "See? No harm done."

"The poor thing is traumatized, but no problem."

Grimm hissed at James and he finally relented and let the ball drop, causing the cat to pounce and slobber all over it.

"I don't know why you bother, Potter," Lily said, turning the page of her textbook.

"You can't condemn a man for trying, Evans," James said, stretching out like a cat on the hearth carpet, his Divination homework lying unfinished beside him.

"Also true, but not necessarily commendable,"

James pulled the captured snitch from his pocket and let it flit between his fingers, circling around his head. Lily saw the golden blur as it flew around the room. Grimm jumped at the sight of it, ball of yarn forgotten.

"Why aren't you studying?" Lily asked after a moment or two, her thick Ancient Runes textbook open on her lap.

"Don't need to study, Evans," James said, "Divination is not worth worrying about."

"I see,"

"Of course, that's taking into mind that Morgana won't pass me no matter what-,"

"Which she will," Lily said.

"And that I am somehow incapable of procuring nonsense to please her demented heart, which I'm not, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't."

"And anyways," James said, catching the snitch at the last second, inches away from Grimm's paws, who growling angrily in response. "Divination's just an elective- it won't matter in the long run. Not much will."

Lily turned away from her textbook, stunned. That wasn't the first time she had heard the aftertones of truth and honesty in his voice, nor was it the first time she had forced herself to look away from him to hide her blush. Lily held her emotions plainly on her face and everyone knew it, especially James.

"You make it sound like you're not coming back," she said, twirling her quill between her fingers, staring resolutely at her textbook, but not reading a word.

"I'm not," he said. 'I'm joining Dumbledore's lot the second I'm of age."

"You're not finishing school?" she said.

"Why? Will you miss me, Evans?"

There was silence then, and Lily started to realize that his voice dipped into sincerity.

"Yeah, I would," she said without thinking, tucking herself even further into her notes so he couldn't see her blush.

James sat up and turned to face her, the red lump on the sagging armchair of Gryffindor common room who wouldn't turn around.

"Huh," he said. petting Grimm absentmindedly, who purred under his touch. She would miss him? Did he hear her right?

"Why are you so desperate to join up anyways?" she asked hurriedly, "it's not like the world's ending tomorrow."

"I can't just sit here at school and wait for others to sacrifice their lives when I should be doing the same thing. It's unbearable."

It was her turn to be quiet. She had always known James Potter to be the self-sacrificing sort, brave to the point of stupidity, but this was adult stuff. Joining the Order of the Phoenix was serious, she wondered what his parents thought, or indeed if he had even told them. He wasn't even seventeen yet.

"I get that," she said quietly, "but I also see the logic in waiting until we graduate."

Lily looked down at her notes with blurry eyes and shut her textbook. "Ah, screw it. i'm not getting everything done anyways."

Grimm rolled over and James rubbed his back absentmindedly, more watching her than anything else.

Lily sighed, pulling her hair out of its messy bun so her scalp could have a rest. James watched her, transfixed, as her long hair fell over the arm of her chair, it's deep red tones catching the light of the fire, making the colours change from copper to maroon to crimson. It was curly today, she must have slept in braids, he thought.

He thought he heard her speak, she was looking expectantly at him.

"What?" he said, looking back up at her.

"I asked when you were leaving." Lily said.

"I'm of age in March, so sometime after that I guess."

"I know when your birthday is," she said impatiently. "So you're not even finishing sixth year, then?"

"I can't. There's too much to do. You understand."

Lily sighed, braiding sections of her hair absentmindedly. A world without James Potter in it would be a peaceful world, that was for sure. But not necessarily one Lily fancied living in. It was true that James had stopped hexing people for the fun of it, true that he had matured and grown up a lot this past year. She would miss him if he left, more than she rightfully should. She wouldn't forgive herself if she gave up her chance to tell him how she really felt if he did end up leaving, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

"I wish you wouldn't go," she said without thinking.

Lily turned, her cheeks flushing pink. It was too late for this! Her mouth got away from her when she was tired, she hadn't slept very well last night in anticipation of finishing her paper. She really should be in bed.

"Well, goodnight," she said awkwardly, her courage forgotten. She gathered her things and put them in her schoolbag. She hadn't noticed how the common room had emptied, and just as well, it was two o'clock in the morning.

"Wait," James said, grabbing hold of her wrist.

"What?"

"I don't want to leave like this."

"Like what?"

"Bickering!" he exclaimed and Lily frowned. "Evans, we've been fighting for six years now. It has to stop, I don't want to fight you anymore."

Lily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. James towered over her, his messy hair framing his face beautifully, his eyes kind and gentle. No, she didn't want to leave like this either.

She took a step forward, the firelight making his eyes dance. He lowered his face towards hers, and suddenly they were kissing. He had his arms around her waist and hers were tangled in his hair and fireworks exploded behind her eyes as he pulled her closer. His scruff brushed against her cheeks and tickled her but she didn't care. She was finally kissing James Potter, nothing else mattered. She poured into the kiss all of her anxiety over him leaving, trying to tell him how devastated she would be if he left, how much she cared about him, how she had always wanted him. She tucked herself into her arms and he pulled her tighter and for a second, everything was perfect.

"We should be in bed," she mumbled against his lips, and he laughed.

"Planning on crawling into mine, Evans?"

She swatted him, firm reserve melting when he laughed.

"Live a little, Evans," he said, kissing her gently. "We've all the time in the world."

She didn't know how long they stood there before she pulled away. He was something dangerous she knew she shouldn't touch, something funny and caring and kind. The pull towards him was inescapable, and she knew that she wasn't letting go anytime soon.

"What can I say to make you stay?"

"You're doing a pretty good job of it right now, I reckon," he said gruffly and she kissed his cheek.

She thought for a second, and kissed him again, on the lips this time, feeling the warmth of his skin under his sweater. She was happy, happier than she ever thought she could be in his arms. Why had they denied each other for so long? They had wasted so much time that could've been spent together and Lily wasn't willing to waste another second.

"Go out with me, Potter?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

…

They would dance around each other for another month before their relationship solidified in late February and she finally took him on that date she promised. That was the day he showed her his Animagus, scared her to death, and the day she punched him in the face in surprise. They would laugh about it later, because that was also the day she showed him her patronus- the doe, and how it complimented his stag perfectly.

"Soulmates," he had said. And maybe they were.

They spent the entire day in the woods, making snowmen, having a snowball fight with the Whomping Willow and laughing their heads off when it finally decided to start hitting back. They ran and slid with boots on on the lake, trying to keep their balance as they ran, moonlight casting shadows and trails for them to follow. And when the moon broke the horizon and the stars came out they named all the constellations they knew and made up the ones they didn't, sat and marvelled at the world around them. It was beautiful, they decided. Their world was breakable, it was scarred and damaged and only getting worse. It was war, after all. But for that moment they were suspended in time and everything made sense when they were together. Their stars had collided, and they were happy. No matter what would come, they could best it as long as they were together.

He pulled his broom out of his pocket and Enlarged it and they flew back to the castle when her watch struck two, her arms around his waist. It was the happiest day of his life, because Evans finally fancied him back and his heart felt whole for the first time.

They flew back to the castle in the moonlight, opened the heavy doors of the Entrance Hall and snuck upstairs even though she was a Prefect and should've known better than to be up after hours. They walked up the flights of stairs leading to Gryffindor tower giggling and whispering, hiding beneath James' Invisibility Cloak. They each watched for Peeves and Filch, holding hands because they felt safer that way. She whispered the password and the portrait hole swung open before them.

They kissed goodnight in the common room and spent the rest of their waking hours smiling, grinning into their pillows thinking about what tomorrow could bring. It this was what love was, they had fallen head over heels.

That was day one of many that were still yet to come.

…

Back then, love was easy.

Love was sitting beside the other in the Great Hall and doing homework together in the common room. Love was smelling his aftershave in Amortentia and holding his hand when they walked down the hallway to Charms. Love was going on dates like their first around the grounds and watching the stars in the Astronomy Tower.

Now everything as complicated, love was waiting for him to come back and keeping their baby safe by keeping herself isolated. Love was sleeping together under the stars like they had at Hogwarts not knowing when he would be called away again. Here her world sounded like the crackling of spruce logs and the whistling of wind through stone and mortar. It sounded like waves crashing against the cliffs and the rustling of grasses as they bent in the breeze. It was dew between her toes and soft sunlight on her face, the dead stalks of wildflowers ticking her knees. It was lazy morning sex, it was snogging in the kitchen in pyjamas, it was putting three sugars in his coffee and laughing at his corny jokes. It was pulling out her fathers record player and play Buddy Holly and Jerry Lee Lewis with her eyes closed, dancing in her dreams. Here she could pretend that she wasn't a witch, that the world wasn't ending and war wasn't raging. Here was the ocean, and the stones and the fire, here was James and cuddling in bed, tracing the contours of sunlight on her sleeping husband's face.

Love was remembering how wonderful things had been before and hoping that they could be great again someday. So she watched, and she waited as those wonderful golden memories fell around her subconscious every night in the moments before she slipped into sleep.

…

The early morning sunlight streamed through the open windows of their bedrooms, casting a warm glow on the walls. She squinted and saw James getting dressed before her, a letter on his bedside table. She groaned and rubbed her eyes.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked sleepily, and James smiled gently, pulling a jumper over his head. "You know it's rude to leave the morning after without saying goodbye."

"I was going to, but you looked too pretty sleeping to wake up," he said, sitting beside her before kissing her forehead gently. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Do you have to go?"

James kneeled in front of her and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You know I have to, Lils,"

"Doesn't mean I have to like it,"

"No, but this time I won't be gone for long." He said, a pulled his jacket on over top of his jumper. "Two weeks, tops. I promise."

"Be safe, James," she said, and pulled his head towards her, kissing him soundly. "I love you. Call me when you can."

"I will," he said, and with one last smile at her, he Apparated.

…

It was March 22nd, 1979 the two year anniversary of her joining the Order.

She had pseudo joined before she graduated, told Dumbledore she would fight someday soon without actually pulling any missions. That particular day two years before burned sharp into her memory. She wasn't usually a sentimental person, but crossing that particular day off on the calendar was harder than it should've been. Lily missed the sensation of being productive.

James had joined a couple months before she had, checked it out with the other Marauders before to see what they were getting themselves into before jumping in with both feet. He attended his first meeting in late June that same year.

...

"Nice of you to finally show up," Sirius said, drink in hand. James shrugged and sat down next to his best friend at the long banquet table of the Order headquarters.

Other members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix were there too: Hagrid, McGonagall, Frank Longbottom. James knew some but many of the older members he had only heard about and had never seen. The room itself was bright and sparsely decorated, situated in the attic of a Muggle Manor in Kent with so many protective enchantments on it that it was invisible and unplottable.

Dumbledore himself sat at the head of the table, parchments surrounding him deep in conversation with Elphias Doge, who looked serious and concerned.

"What's going to happen?" James asked, twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Dumbledore will give us more information, who's gone into hiding, suspected Death Eaters, where You Know Who might be, that sort of thing," Remus said from across the table from them, his face was hidden in a hood and James was confused that he hadn't recognized his best mate before then. "Then he'll ask for volunteers for missions, which are extremely dangerous. I can't expect Lily would be a fan."

"No, I suspect not," James said stiffly.

This wasn't playing pranks and being obnoxious in Gryffindor common room, this wasn't being rebellious and taking risks for the thrill of it. Here and there real people were dying, Benjy Fenwick had been torn apart by the Death Eaters less than a year ago, Emmeline Vance was killed by Death Eaters a month before. This wasn't a joke anymore. Death came to friends, to strangers, to next door neighbours; death came for parents and roommates and best friends. No one was exempt from pain and loss, not James and certainly not anyone sitting around that table.

"We'll come to order," Dumbledore said, and the talking around him silenced. "welcome to our new members, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and James Potter. You're contribution is appreciated."

There was no applause, no sound. Around them, everyones eyes were drawn.

"I've nothing but bad news, I'm afraid," Dumbledore continued. "From what we have been able to gather, Voldemort's inner circle has expanded. His followers have begun to seep into the Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet. They can no longer be trusted."

Again, stunned silence rather than the reverent sort filled the room. James shuffled his shoes nervously.

"Werewolves in the north are in revolt," Dumbledore said, looking around the room sadly. "Many have already sided with Voldemort or are soon to do so. Giants too have sided with their side. Voldemort and his followers outnumber us sixteen to one."

Life was bleak in war.

Tomorrow sounded like an impossible dream, war was yesterday, today and tomorrow- there was no guarantee that you'd live, no promise that you'd somehow make it out- there never was.

Most of the time it came down to luck, to timing. Sometimes it was your best friend who ran into the Killing Curse and not you. Sometimes you ducked, sometimes you cursed them back, but no one could nail it down one way or another. The logic behind it all.

War was chance, and even then James Potter must've known that the odds weren't in his favour.

…

James had said that he'd call her, they had planned back when he was still at Hogwarts to call at least once a day. He had to walk farther than he'd like to find a Muggle payphone.

The night was strangely cold for June and the wind was blowing dead leaves across the pavement. He pulled his Gryffindor scarf further up his chin and walked to the strange booth on the side of the road. He inserted the strange Muggle coins into the telephone and dialled the number of her flat, hoping Lily would pick up.

After three rings, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Lily?"

"James!" Lily said happily, and James smiled to himself. Her joy was what he needed in a world with so much uncertainty. "How was the meeting?"

"A lot more than I was expecting," he said honestly, tucking himself further into the windbreak of the booth. "it was hard to listen to Dumbledore rattling off deaths like he was. He asked for volunteers for a mission in the West Country, and I said that I would."

"How long will you be gone for?"

"I don't know, it's hard to say. We'll be gone until we do what we came to do, I guess."

"Who's going with you?"

"Sirius and Amelia and Frank Longbottom. The full moon is coming up, so Remus couldn't come and Peter's mother is sick again. It's just as well, we're a good team as it is."

"You'll promise not to be stupid?"

"I'm never stupid."

"Yes you are and you know it," she said, her voice thick. He knew that Lily meant it as a joke but there was a strange edge to her voice that he hadn't heard before.

"I promise," he said. "Really. And Lily?"

"Yeah?"

"Be safe for me too. I'll call you when I can."

After they had said their goodbyes, James felt more heartsick for her than he had before.

…

"Did you get a hold of her?" Sirius asked, tying up his boots with magic. Remus tucked his wand in his pocket and looked at James expectantly.

"Yeah, she's fine." James said, "I told her that we were leaving."

"Did you tell her what we were doing?" Sirius asked.

"Of course not. She would be worrying the entire time."

"You know she's going to join the Order eventually, James," Remus said. "You can't keep her in the dark forever."

"No, but she's got enough on her plate already without me adding to it," James said, "did you know that her dad's sick? He's got lung cancer. Lily's really worried about him"

"He'll be okay," Remus said, "and if he passes, Lily will be strong. You know she will."

"But she shouldn't have to be," James said. "She's only nineteen."

"We're nineteen too, mate." Sirius said sadly. "We all have our own battles to fight."

"She'll be okay," Remus said, hugging his friend so he could cry without anyone seeing him. "We'll all be okay someday."

…

Lily ended up joining the Order that November, and pulled missions like the rest of them even though it scared James half to death when he went without her.

She put herself to good use, and finally understood the satisfied feeling of doing something productive for a change. It felt good to be needed.

She learned the value of a good nights sleep, learned the art of sleeping with one eye open and had a newfound appreciation for all things canned. Nothing tasted better than canned beans over an open fire when she was hungry enough to eat it cold. Maybe even without the spoon.

Frank taught her how to catch a fish one day when they were on a mission in Liverpool, and they ate fresh cod for dinner that night, cooked slowly in the coals of their campfire.

To be honest, it wasn't much different from when Harry, Ron and Hermione were on the run almost eighteen years later. It was the same fear, the same anxious longing to be back home. The same chills that settled around them at night and protective charms over camp lest the Death Eaters find them.

When she wasn't away, they lived in a flat in Sussex, far enough away from London that they could just be by themselves.

They had the Marauders over for supper whenever they were both home and played games and talked well into the night. Sat by the fire with lemonade and pumpkin juice and blueberry pie like they had all those years before at the Potter's.

All of them understood the realities of war and peace, and learned to value both for their individual merits. War meant helping and being useful, taking out Death Eaters, infiltrating hideouts, gaining information. Peace meant quiet dinners and slow conversation that needed to go nowhere quickly. Peace was what all of them preferred but no one was cowardly enough to say it out loud.

At least not verbally, anyway.

They all showed it, the war had aged them. The war clung to Lupin's past and prevented him from living in the present. Prevented him from going anywhere near London without charms on his appearance lest he be caught and put into the werewolf colony. It stuck to James' face when he smiled, stopped him from laughing easily and joking over the little things because big realities stood in his way.

The war caused a bottle to grace Sirius' hand more often than not, it clung to his throat and brought tears to his eyes when it all became too much. It showed in Lily's eyes, in her jerky actions in nominal tasks, it was the dark circles and lank hair that were reality now because of the war. It was always holding onto her husbands hand because he was the rock in her life, even in war, and she needed him to stay strong so she could do so herself.

The war only amplified Peter's feeling's of inadequacy, of his perpetual uselessness in the grand scheme of things. The war had him cling to the arm of the majority when stress threatened to cave in on him, caused him to side with the Death Eaters when he knew it was wrong.

War brought out the truth in everyone, one way or another, because it was also around then that Peter stopped stopping by the Potter's flat for tea and suppers because he felt too guilty to betray them like that. Felt like the fifth wheel that was so unnecessary and didn't really belong despite everything they said to convince him otherwise.

So he found hope in someone else. In Voldemort who could care less if he lived or died.

That was life in war, and was the reality well into the years to come.