A/N: Hello! Alas, the end is nigh! Thank you so much for reading and following and favourite-ing and reviewing - much love to you all! This story has been a project of mine for a while and I'd never have come this far without all of your support. I know that it's got a lot darker than it originally started out but that's just the nature of the universe J K Rowling has created. As much as this has strayed from canon (usually accidentally because my brain... it's full of stuff and plans and argh, let's not go into it), it's ending will be faithful to the books.

Anyway, enjoy and have a lovely day!

JAMES' P.O.V

OCTOBER 1981

"You want me to be Secret Keeper?" Padfoot splutters, his toothbrush in his mouth.

"I know it's a lot to ask, mate, but we need someone we can trust."

And my trust for Padfoot is unwavering. From meeting him when we were eleven, to becoming best mates, to discovering that Moony was a werewolf, to learning how to be Animagi, to every prank, every midnight excursion, every Christmas, every birthday, him moving in, him being disowned, his brother dying, Order missions, girls, alcohol, deaths, war… everything. He's been there for everything, he's my brother. There's nothing I wouldn't trust him with.

"We really don't have much time, Sirius," Lily calls from the other side of the door.

"I think you're making a mistake –"

"Please, Sirius," Lily says, "for Harry."

Sirius suspires resignedly, setting his toothbrush down.

"Fine, but we need to do this quickly…"

He opens the door and Lily hugs him tightly, "You're the best."

"I know," he says, "how does the Fidelius Charm work?"

"It is rather complicated," Dumbledore appears behind us, nearly scaring us all to death, "I believe I can help, however."

Lily glances at him and nods, as if encouraging him to continue.

"Once your location is under the Fidelius Charm, it will be invisible, intangible, unplottable and soundproof. The secret will be concealed inside an individual's soul and so long as it remains there, it cannot be discovered by Lord Voldemort. Unless the Secret Keeper divulges it directly, it cannot be discovered any other way."

"So if I get tortured –"

Lily gulps slightly, the concern on her face becoming increasingly apparent. Her face starts to go white.

"It must be disclosed willingly, at least, that is my understanding."

"Is there a large possibility that you've misunderstood?"

"Quite possibly."

Lily blanches, looking very ill.

"Hey don't worry about me, Lily-flower. I'm invincible remember? Oh wait, what happens if I die?"

"Then the people who know the secret will become the Secret Keepers but I hope that it shall not come to that."

"So do I. What about whilst I'm still alive?"

"The people who know the secret won't be able to share it until you die – this location will still remain hidden to them unless they are alone and truly think about it."

"Right. When should we cast it?"

"Tomorrow?" Lily suggests, "We can get all the Marauders here one last time before…"

Before we hardly ever see them again went unsaid. To say goodbye also went unsaid.

"Time is of the essence," Dumbledore says, "good luck, I have every faith in you."

To whom he was referring, I have no idea. He then Apparates and leaves us alone. Lily turns to Sirius and throws her arms around him. He hugs her back, looking a lot calmer than I know he must be.

"Cheer up, Lil. It's not like I'm leaving you with Prongs for the rest of your life – I wouldn't inflict that fate on anyone."

"You'll be careful, won't you? Don't bloody get yourself killed – I'll never forgive you if you do."

"Hey, will I have to tell you two where your own house is?"

Lily steps back from him smiling and punches him in the arm, playfully. She looks a little livelier now.

"There's my girl," he says.

"There's our girl," I say, wrapping my arm around her, kissing her forehead.

She leans back and grasps my hand, her anxiety and distress crushing my hand – but I don't mind.

THE NEXT DAY

We're out in the garden. It's late afternoon, Harry's crawling/walking around on the grass and Lily's brought out all of the good wine.

"Wormy! I haven't seen you for ages!" Moony beams at Wormtail.

Wormtail returns the hug awkwardly, looking very much out of place.

"How have you been?" he asks, fumbling.

"Pretty damn awful," Moony replies cheerfully, pouring himself some red wine.

"Oh," Wormtail replies. "That's… unfortunate."

"How's old Melanie?" Padfoot asks, leaning against the wall, lighting his cigarette.

"She ran off with an Irishman. They now have three children."

"Oh," I reply, pouring Wormtail a very large glass before adding to my own, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Wormtail shrugs, "She's happy, I think."

I hand him his glass.

"I was sorry to hear about Edgar," Moony says, sitting down.

"Edgar?" Lily asks, sitting down next to him.

"Didn't you hear? There was a Death Eater attack, you know how they've been getting quite close in tracking some Death Eaters down? Yeah, it was him, his wife, children… everyone."

"I can't believe it," Lily says, looking genuinely upset, "Amelia? Has anyone spoken to Amelia? Is she safe?"

"Moody said she was."

"Good. She must be… oh God. We should send something to her."

"Lily…" Padfoot sighs, "Is that really a good idea? I mean, I know it's a horrible thing to say but that family could have been yours. We got lucky this time but we know Voldemort's looking for Harry – we really can't take any risks. Which is why I think we need to get this spell done pretty quickly."

"I wish I could stay longer," Moony says, kissing Lily on the cheek. "We'll talk soon."

"Yes," Lily says sadly, "Remus? Stay safe, won't you?"

"Of course," he gives her a mock salute and then gives Harry a hug before nodding to me, Padfoot and Wormtail.

She watches him go.

"You'll see him again, Lil," I say, clutching her hand. "It's not goodbye forever."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do – when have I ever been wrong? Hmm?"

"How can you ever know if it's the last time? When I last saw Mar, I had no idea…" her voice cracks slightly but she shakes her head, dispelling the tears.

"You never know if it's the last time," I say softly. "So you cherish every moment you have. I know Moony, he'll be alright, I promise you."

"Shall we crack on with this charm?" she says with false brightness.

"I'll go," Wormtail says, shifting where he stands.

"Bye Wormy," Lily says, kissing him on the cheek. "You'll look after yourself, won't you?"

He nods back tightly.

A FEW DAYS LATER

Lily's made breakfast – a proper English breakfast with bacon that smells heavenly. She hasn't cooked like this in so long, the last time I had a breakfast like this – I can't even remember it. I have tried to do it before but ovens and timings and smoke… I'm not allowed to try again. We haven't cast the charm yet; we're going to do it today. It got too emotional yesterday so we decided to wait.

Padfoot enters the kitchen looking slightly dishevelled and tired. I reckon he didn't sleep much last night.

"Morning, Sirius," Lily says, handing him a cup of coffee. He sniffs it suspiciously. "It's black and bitter, just the way you like it."

"How can you be so cheerful? It's eight o'clock in the morning."

"Precisely," she says, tickling Harry as she walks past. "It's a new day, the sun is shining, the leaves look really pretty, Halloween is less than two weeks away – if that isn't enough to make you smile than you're more choleric than Scrooge."

"Scrooge?"

"Never mind, it's a Muggle thing. Now eat up."

He sits down at the table with a thump. He never was one for mornings, nor was I, or Lily but for some reason, Lily's taken it upon herself to be cheerful enough for the both of us. Perhaps it's because she feels obliged to lighten the mood and distract us. I don't blame her, it takes effort to keep up morale and the last thing I want is for Padfoot to collapse and drown in his own spiral of misery and despondency. It's very hard to pull him out when he does that.

Harry throws some toast at Padfoot's head and Padfoot finally cracks a smile.

"You're a little monster and a half," he says, pulling faces at Harry which cause him to start laughing.

Lily smiles from behind her cup of tea, squeezing my hand under the table.

"With aim like that, he'll be a Chaser when he's older," I announce.

"I wouldn't expect any less from a son of yours," Padfoot says, "but I've seen his reflexes – what about a Seeker?"

"A Seeker?" I muse over that thought whilst I chew on my eggs.

"Is that less dangerous than a Chaser?" Lily asks.

"Well he probably won't have more than one player purposefully barging into him at all times but Seekers can get into all sorts of nasty scrapes."

"Don't tell her that, Padfoot, or she'll never let him play Quidditch. Being a Seeker is perfectly safe, Lily. Don't listen to him."

"What's safe about being unnaturally high up, on a broom of all things, at one hundred miles an hour?"

"Honestly Lily, that's where the thrill comes from. It wouldn't be fun if it was safe," Padfoot rolls his eyes.

"Yes, it would. It would give me great peace of mind for that wretched game to be safe."

"I don't know of anyone who'd be game for safe Quidditch, do you Prongs?"

"No, I can't think of anyone."

"Him being on a broom doesn't worry you at all?" Lily asks, looking at Harry.

"He's a Potter. We belong on brooms, we're naturals."

"I swear, if he turns out as arrogant as you –"

"Not possible," Lily coughs into her tea.

"I am right here."

"Which is what makes teasing you so fun," she says, leaning over and kissing me on the lips.

"Um guys? I need to talk to you."

Lily's smile is quickly replaced with a face of utter seriousness.

"I don't think I should be your Secret Keeper – and that's not because I don't like the sound of responsibility or that I'm too scared or anything like that, I just think it would be smarter if it were someone Voldemort would never expect. Like, Wormtail, for example."

"Wormtail," I repeat.

"Yes, who in their right mind would expect Wormtail to be your Secret Keeper?"

"There is a reason why nobody would expect that –"

"Yes, I know he can be careless but we've known him since we were eleven. We can trust him not to fu-I mean mess, sorry Harry, we can trust him not to mess this up. It'll be a bluff. Voldemort will come after me, probably and he'd never in his wildest dreams think that Wormtail was your Secret Keeper."

"Is Voldemort following you?"

"If he isn't already, he soon will. I think this will be a lot safer. We won't tell anyone; it'll be completely secret. What do you think?"

I look at Lily; she seems to be considering it.

"I see your point, it's certainly valid. I just… there are so many ways that this can go wrong. How do we even know Wormtail would agree to be our Secret Keeper?"

"I invited him over so you can ask him yourself. I think this is the smartest thing to do. I'm too obvious, it's much safer for Wormtail to be Secret Keeper."

LILY'S P.O.V

A FEW HOURS LATER

We did it. We made Wormtail our Secret Keeper – I just hope he'll be okay. Padfoot went back to his apartment a couple of minutes ago, so now it's just me, James and Harry.

It's been a long day. Harry's playing with a toy dragon that someone bought him for his birthday – it occasionally breathes out flames that have no heat and don't burn anything, it just makes everyone jump and I worry that it might give Harry the wrong idea about fire.

I'm on the sofa, reading my novel - Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises. It's not the first time I've read it, but Hemingway has a way of writing that makes me want to read all of his books a thousand times. Every time, however, I just can't get over how much I dislike Frances and let's not start on Cohn.

I feel the sofa dip under someone's weight – James puts one arm around my shoulders and we sit in the light of the fire. The flickering flames seem to soften his features and bring a warmth to them that you don't normally see during the day, or at all really, not since our Hogwarts days. I rarely see him like this, completely comfortable and relaxed. His hair is gorgeous, he's gorgeous and sometimes it's nice to just take a moment to admire all the beautiful things around you and in your life. He's the highlight of every single one of my days, waking up to see him next to me is something I hope to always look forward to. He's everything I've ever wanted and more.

"You're staring," he says.

"Forgive a lady for admiring the finer things in life."

"The finer things in life?" he smirks.

"What? Have you suddenly gone humble? Will wonders never cease?"

"Enjoying your book?"

"Bullfighting, drinking, the aristocracy and a love that is never to be… It's wonderful."

"Sounds like a Muggle book."

"However did you guess? Just because you have no respect for Hemingway –"

"I'm not sure I even know who that is," he says, taking my book from me.

"No appreciation for fine authors," I mutter, reaching for my book.

"He's not even English," James sets me book down on the floor.

"So? He's an expatriate, lots of great writers are. Perhaps I'll move to Paris, find divine inspiration, and write a novel that'll make a fortune."

"Sounds rather far-fetched and drastic to me. Besides, you don't need a fortune; we already have one."

"One that we didn't earn, you mean. I don't think it sounds drastic at all – it's Paris! Just imagine - waltzing on a bridge at dusk, walking beside the Seine, climbing the Eiffel Tower and wandering the streets at midnight in the rain –"

"What's so good about Paris in the rain?"

"It's the most beautiful in the rain."

"You're crazy."

"Am I? Crazy in love with you, perhaps."

"You're a hopeless romantic," he snorts.

"And you're not? Admit it, there's something magical about Paris."

"Maybe if you're a bitter, lonely, delusional old soul."

"Fine, not Paris. How about Spain?"

"Do you know Spanish?"

"No – but I could learn."

"Not Spain."

"Fine, how about Italy?"

"Too much like France."

"Have you ever been to Italy?"

"I've been to practically every country in Europe – my parents liked to travel, remember?"

"We didn't go very many places when I was a child. I mean, we went to Brighton and seaside towns and London and places like that, but not usually abroad. Apart from one year, my parents had saved up for ages and we went to Paris. Maybe you think it sounds like a place for bitter, lonely old souls but I liked it. There was something about the culture that just seemed to grab me."

He looks at me with an unreadable expression – something between sadness, happiness, fondness and Merlin know what else.

"If you want to go to Paris, we'll go to Paris. Hell, I'll take you all over the world. By the time Harry's eleven, we'll have been to every country in Europe and more."

"Really?"

"Yeah – only my French is a little rusty, we may need to brush up a little."

I kiss him then, just because I know that it doesn't matter if it's Paris, Italy, Spain, Albania, or wherever, so long as I'm with him, I'll be happy. So long as we're together, I couldn't wish for anything better.