A/N: Sorry for the long wait for this chapter.

Chapter Forty Six

Barcelona was absolutely beautiful. Even this late in the year, the weather was gloriously sunny, if not precisely warm. There was fantastic architecture to admire, museums and markets to wander through, wonderful restaurants to eat in … and only the two of them to enjoy it. There wasn't any fussing, any crying, any worrying about how they'd handle the bathtime/bedtime routine, no worrying about how they'd manage to get the baby to eat anything but sardines, bananas and breadsticks for the rest of his life – to be fair, he gummed the breadsticks – and they could feel like man and woman again, not just people defined by their parenthood.

In theory, anyway. It took at least two days before either Lily or James found a topic that couldn't be twisted around to Harry. In that time, they toured the city at as leisurely pace as possible and fell in love with each other all over again. And their idyllic Spanish honeymoon was totally and utterly ruined when the mirror in James' pocket started speaking while they were strolling down Las Ramblas in search of some breakfast.

Sirius' voice was muffled, but it was clearly urgent in tone. "Prongs! Prongs, answer me, and bloody hurry up about it!"

James felt a weight of dread, like a stone, settle at the pit of his stomach. Without a word, he grabbed Lily's hand and pulled her down the nearest side alley. James pulled out the mirror and opened up the wrappings.

"Who's dead?" he asked grimly, deciding it was better to know the worst right away.

"No one, but you two need to get your arses back here pronto. We were attacked."

"Again?" Lily put in. "How do the Death Eaters keep-"

"Lily, keep your voice down," James urged.

She cast a pointed look at the enclosed space they stood in, and beyond that, the oblivious muggles of Barcelona. However, she did drop her voice as she went on. "How do the Death Eaters keep identifying members of the Order? Dumbledore-"

In the mirror, Sirius was shaking his head. "No, Lily, the Order wasn't attacked. We were. They came to the house."

Underneath her freckles, Lily went ashen, and James felt his head swim briefly with panic. "Is H-"

"Harry's fine, we got him out before any magic was flung around, and he's safe at HQ now. But they-"

"Were after Helena?" James guessed.

Sirius let out a short, sharp sigh and squared his shoulders. James recognised the look from previous instances when he'd had to deliver bad news. "That's what we thought, but no. That's why you have to come home – because they wanted to take Harry."

Why? How? Had Voldemort just decided to up the level of evil by killing off infants now?

Those questions would occur to both Lily and James later, but for now parental instinct completely took over. And that instinct was very simply, and unbelievably strongly, protect. Rip through anything, anyone, that happened to be stupidly between them and their child. Get to him. Check with their own eyes and hands that he was ok.

"HQ, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"We're on our way."

When Lily and James entered Westmoreland Castle, Sirius had their son in his arms, and immediately handed Harry over to James as soon as he was within arms' reach. Harry's small form was an incredibly reassuring weight nestled around him, and on spotting his parents, a broad, open-mouthed grin had appeared on his face. He was, as promised, entirely intact and completely unharmed. The sense of relief was staggering. Lily put her arms around her husband and son, her face pressed against Harry's unruly black hair. She closed her eyes briefly as she inhaled, then kissed him.

"He's ok," James said, as much to himself as her. "He's ok."

She nodded, then turned to face the others. It was just the Marauders, minus Moony, and she regarded them with eyes flinty and voice hard. "Tell us everything."

Helena and Sirius walked them through the details, which simultaneously chilled James to the bone and made him absolutely sure that he and Lily had made the right choice for Harry's godparents. Clearly their first thought had been to protect the baby and worry about themselves later. Lily acted for him too when she pulled both of them into hugs. "Thank you, both of you." She turned to Wormtail. "And thanks for looking after him, Peter."

"Oh, I didn't really do anything. I missed out on the action that Helena and Padfoot got too!" he finished, poorly disguising the note of relief in his voice.

In James' arms, Harry started fussing, making little unhappy sounds. "Think he's hungry."

"Shit, I forgot the formula," Helena grimaced.

"No problem," Lily assured her, taking Harry from his father. "Can I borrow your wrap though?" She sat down and arranged Helena's wrap over one shoulder, before starting to breastfeed Harry. Once he was fixed, Lily looked up at the others. "So: why?"

Not one of them had an answer for that. Harry wasn't even a year old yet – what value could he possibly hold in the eyes of someone like Voldemort? James shook his head. "It just doesn't make sense. As far as we know he could be a squib for God's sake!"

Sirius shook his head. "Oh, he's not a squib, mate. Managed a perfect repair charm earlier. He, er, got hold of Hellfire's wand," he added guiltily, seeing James' raised eyebrows.

James was saved from a reply by an emerald gush from the fireplace, followed by Lupin's lanky, unkempt form. He looked first at James and Lily, frowing in puzzlement. "I thought you two were in Barcelona? What's going on?"

"Excellent bloody question," Sirius answered curtly. "You did get my message then?"

"Of course, I did, I-"

"Only it's taken you a fair while to get here, hasn't it, mate?"

Moony frowned. "I've been busy."

"Right. Busy."

James had been dismissive of Sirius' suspicions before, but with his son so recently in danger, his paranoia was on high alert. He didn't fully trust anyone except Lily right now. Well, Lily and Sirius. He'd proven his loyalty a thousand times over.

"Harry was attacked," Lily told Moony suddenly, her voice loud in the tension-filled room.

James saw her tactic, and watched Remus carefully. If he was acting, he was doing a good job; his eyes widened, his mouth fell open and he took what looked like an involuntary step forward. "What? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, Remus," Helena reassured him. "Two Death Eaters posed as Lily and James but I killed them both."

"Nearly losing her own life in the process," Sirius added, proving that he didn't need to be in dog-form to be snarling. James wondered if he planned to bite next, and apparently Helena had the same thought, as she laid her hand on her husband's shoulder and squeezed gently. Sirius' let out a short, angry-sounding sigh, and backed down.

"The Death Eaters came to your house?"

"Yeah."

"But … how did they know Lily and James weren't in the country? How did they know Harry was in London with you?"

"You tell us," Sirius said, folding his arms.

Apparently, this was the final straw for Moony's forebearance. He straightened, looking Sirius squarely in the eye. "What is it exactly you're accusing me of, Sirius?"

"You know come to think of it, we haven't seen Dumbledore yet either, so maybe you know where he is. Unless you're not taking your orders from Dumbledore anymore?"

"Oh for God's sake, enough, the pair of you!" All eyes turned to the souce of this furious outburst, and found Lily. She kept her voice low, so as not to disturb the still-feeding baby, but her eyes blazed even in the dim light. She continued. "Death Eaters are trying to kill my son, or kidnap him – I don't know which is worse – and you two are arguing over imagined suspicions! I trust both of you, but frankly I don't have time to soothe your paranoia, so you can either let it go and help me, or get the hell out of the way, but you decide right now! Which is it to be?"

There was a ringing silence, broken only by the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Helena and James moved at the same time, flanking Lily. Helena put her hand on the other woman's shoulder. "What she said."

"Please lads," James added. "For me, and for Harry."

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, then Moony nodded shortly. "Alright."

"Sure, Prongs. For Harry."

"Thank you. Does anyone know where Dumbledore is? Does he know what's happened, or why?"

"We sent messages to him, same as usual," Padfoot replied, "but if he got them he hasn't deicded to turn up yet."

"So then, what do we know? Helena, did they say anything that could help?"

She shook her head. "No. But I've been thinking about Voldemort's motivations. There are some spells and dark magic rituals that require the sacrifice of a totally innocent soul."

James nodded thoughtfully. He'd heard of such things, but they were normally told to magical children as fairytales. Apparently fairytales that had their basis in fact.

"But why Harry, specifically?" Lily asked. "You-Know-Who must have known he'd be protected and there are plenty of children out their without that advantage."

"Maybe it has to be the blood of an enemy's child," Sirius said.

"Maybe. But I think this might be about me, too," Helena put in. "I know it's arrogant to assume everything is about me, but I do know Voldemort's way of thinking. Any why harm one person when you can harm two? There's no other baby I'm as attached to as Harry. I'm his godmother. And we know there's a traitor somewhere in our midst," she added, studiously not looking anywhere but the fireplace, "so my father would have that information."

They all jumped when Dumbledore's voice emerged from the far end of the hall, followed by his ghost-like form. "Sound as that logic may be, Helena, I believe it is wrong."

"Then why Harry?" James demanded.

"I'm afraid I can only safely divulge what I may know to you and Lily, James."

"I trust everyone here," James said firmly.

"Nonetheless."

"It's alright, we'll go," Moony said. He couldn't help casting a look at Sirius as he did so but Sirius' carefully neutral expression didn't change.

"So will we," Helena murmured. She bent to kiss Lily's cheek. "You know where we are."

She and Padfoot disapparated first, followed by Moony. Wormtail glanced at Dumbledore and stammered out a goodbye as nervously as if he was going to be sent to detention. "I'm- I'm glad Harry's ok- A-and, yeah, like Helena said …" He moved quickly to the fireplace and flooed away.

Now alone with them, Dumbledore didn't beat about the bush. "Lord Voldemort is targeting Harry because he believes that your son is the one person in the world destined to defeat him once and for all."

Direct, yes. Sensible, no. It left both James and Lily completely dumbfounded. Their gaping mouths were invitation enough for the elderly wizard to explain further. He conjured a chair and set it in front of the fireplace, settling into it. "As you may or may not know, Professor Delphi left Hogwarts at the end of the spring term. This precipated the need for a new Divination tracher. During the holidays I interviewed a young woman for the position. Frankly, though she had seer ancestry, she did not seem to possess any affinity for reading the future at all – but at the end of the interview, she gave me a prophecy. A true prophecy."

"Well, hold on a minute," James cried, "how do you know it was a true prophecy, how do you know it wasn't some kind of trick?"

"I am not easily fooled, James," Dumbledore answered quietly, the gentle rebuke coming straight from their schooldays. "She entered a trance, during which she was no longer present, and afterwards, she had no memory of her words."

"Alright, well – what were her words?" Lily asked, lifting Harry up to her shoulder to wind him.

Dumbedore spoke, but it wasn't his voice that either of them heard. It was someone they'd never heard before. "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..."

The word echoed in the room for a few moments after the headmaster had finished speaking, though they felt like they'd instantly soaked into James' brain. No surprises that most of his energy was focused on making it not true. And if it had to be true, then making it not about his son. "Alright, two of those fit Harry, but what's this stuff about 'having power the Dark Lord knows not'? He's only performed one bit of magic and that was entirely instinctual – and what the hell kind of magic could a baby know that Voldemort doesn't?" He sounded desperate, he knew, but desperation was what he felt; it was one thing to keep himself alive in this war, another thing to try and protect Lily … it seemed impossible that he might be able to protect his son now. Not if all of Voldemort's energy was focused on destroying him.

"There's something else," Lily said, somehow managing to sound calm, though her face was bloodless. "There's another child who fits the criteria. Frank and Alice's son, Neville. He and Harry were born on the same day."

But Dumbledore was shaking his head sadly. "I'm sorry, but no. Until I received the news earlier that Harry had been attacked, I would have agreed with you. That is, in fact, why I purposely kept both you and the Longbottoms in the dark. I hope you can forgive me for that. But there is one crucial part of the prophecy that means it must be Harry: Voldemort has marked him. Of the two boys, Voldemort has chosen Harry to be his rival."

"But …"

"… why?"

"I have only suspicions. Perhaps the reason is unimportant. The fact is clear."

"How does Voldemort even know about the prophecy? If it was just you and this woman-"

"By conicidence, or fate, there happened to be a Death Eater in the pub where we met. That Death Eater eavesdropped and heard the prophecy. He relayed it, in its entireity, to Voldemort."

"Who? Which arse-licking shit-weasel told him?"

Dumbledore sighed through his long, thin nose. "I am not going to tell you that."

"What? Why the hell not?" James demanded, incredulous.

"Because I believe you would wish to hunt him down."

"Too bloody right I would! That scum has put my son in the greatest possible danger, I deserve to know who it is!"

"And if I tell you, if you go after him and get yourself killed, how does that benefit Harry? How does it aid in protecting your family?"

"I- You can't expect me to do nothing!"

"I don't. I expect you to do everything possible to protect your son. Right now, that means going against all your instincts, and hiding. I have neither the information nor the power to guarantee we would meet with any kind of success if we attempted a counter-attack. You know there is one among us who is not who they pretend to be. Your only security now lies in secrecy."

"Alright, al-alright," Lily said shakily. "So, we hide, that's the easy part. How long, though, Dumbledore? Until he's seventeen, what? How is he to be educated if not at Hogwarts? Do we move abroad?"

They could, James reflected. He knew that, to Voldemort, the Atlantic Ocean would be an insubstantial barrier, but he'd feel better with three thousand miles of open sea between them. And Harry could always attend Ilvermornay. They could change their names, live someone else's lives … But he looked at Lily, and they knew instantly that they wouldn't do it. "No," he said softly. "How could we? To leave our friends here to be caught and tortured for information? No. We'll hide if we have to, but for no longer than we have to and here. Ready to fight for our son whenever we're needed."

Lily reached for his hand and grasped his fingers tightly.

Dumbledore's eyes were glittering brightly, and when he spoke his voice was slightly raspier than before. "Exactly as I thought. Gryffindors to a fault." He cleared his throat and continued. "There are, fortunately, many ways you can hide. We can make your house unplottable, set up defensive spells-"

"Helena and Sirius have already implemented some protections like that," Lily pointed out. "We can add to them."

Dumbledore carried on listing spells, some of which James had heard of and some he hadn't. He conjured a quill and paper and wrote every one of them down at lightning speed, only some time later realising how much of him wanted to go home with his wife and child and pretend this was all some horrible, awful dream. But pretending anything was a luxury they could no longer afford. Even for one night.