Chapter 4. Xenia Verdi.

"And if the Light triumphs, in the fourth spring after the death of the eight-headed serpent, a guest shall enter the world, able to look into eyes, but see souls. And a dead man shall speak, and the guest shall face the choice: to turn to the skies or to be drawn toward the grassy earth. For the sky shall bring happiness and prosperity, while the earth – fulfillment of destiny but loss of self. And by making the choice, the guest shall decide the fate of the Light."

These words, that she learned by heart when she was six years old, had long since determined her path, her life, her destiny. No, it was not resignation; it was her choice. Her life's goal – to fulfill the prophecy, to help the Light, for which she fought so adamantly in other people's souls.

She was named "Xenia" that spring, four years after the death of the Dark Lord. And she could see souls – a unique gift, a gift of healing that she cherished and nurtured, safeguarding it until the very moment when the portrait of Albus Dumbledore made her an offer to spend her last school year at Hogwarts; until the moment when the Sorting Hat gave her the choice: Slytherin or Ravenclaw… Until the moment when she consciously made her choice, ready to come to the rescue of the Light…

And she was not afraid as she prepared to save Harry Potter, whose light was nearly extinguished ; to exchange her gift for the healing of this weary and tormented man, who deserved to find peace. She was not afraid because she had spent almost her entire life waiting to fulfill her destiny, to help, to save…

And she succeeded at it, without losing anything… In fact, she gained much by following her path… Could she have guessed there, on Diagon Alley, at the first glance at the abashed black-haired youth with a famous surname, that none other than he would become her destiny, her bliss that she had never dared to hope for? She had come to England to carry out the prophecy, and that very prophecy, made years before, brought her love.

Because she, the seventeen-year-old healer of souls was a cousin of Scorpius Malfoy. And that youth – James Potter Jr. – turned out to be his best mate, almost a brother. And Harry Potter, for whose sake she had been granted her gift, was Jim's father… All those fates had been linked and intertwined decades before, when the prophecy voiced by Professor Trelawney was first recorded and then separated into two parts, according to the instructions of Albus Dumbledore…

She remembered well the evening when Jim was looking into her eyes frantic with worry, almost in a panic, knowing that she intended to fulfill her destiny, to part with her unique gift for the sake of saving Harry Potter from drowning in his tortured past… She watched him trying to resist, to find another way, torn between her and his father.

Clownish. A tad naïve. Beloved perhaps exactly for that childish recklessness, which she had long lost. Could there be a better exchange: her gift for James Potter's happiness and for her happiness with him? With him as well as with the other, whom James has now given her, four years after their chance meeting at the Diagon Alley, and whom she has begun to feel inside her – a thin thread of faint light was already linking her with the greatest gift that life could have given her…

"James, where are you?" Xenia looked around her, but could not see the black-haired young man among the multitude of customers, shelves and goods at this wizarding supermarket that had opened on Diagon Alley only six months before. "James!"

A familiar hand appeared from behind a nearby shelf, with tiny red socks capping two of the fingers.

"Jim, come on, stop this," Xenia smiled, looking at the "feet" dancing atop the box with self-washing plates. "Enough, we have to go!"

Finally, James' smiling face appeared above the box:

"Like it?"

"Like what?" the girl attempted not to laugh, incapable, as usual, to be cross with him. She seemed to never be cross with him. Ever. "Your behavior? You are like a First Year…"

"Na-ah," James drawled, his eyes on the socks. "Fine, I am taking them…"

"What for, just tell me, what for?" Xenia begged almost defeatedly, drained after the battle she had been waging with James here for the last hour. And when he walked around the shelf and approached her with a full basket in hand, she groaned, digging her nails lightly into his arm: "Have you gone mad? I knew that I shouldn't have told you straight away…"

She really had not planned on giving him her news that evening. She came back from the hospital, a little taken aback and even frightened ever since Healer Smethwick examined her and confirmed the diagnosis Xenia had already made for herself.

A child… A gift… And a responsibility that not everyone can handle. And James? No, she did not doubt him; she was only afraid to "saddle" her husband, to curb his wild young life, without which, she knew, he would die away. Like a caged bird…

But then, at home, she sat, looking at his sleeping face, at the wrinkles that first crossed his brow four years ago, when his mother was killed. He slept, smiling in his dreams, but his face still did not take on the carefree and merry expression he usually wore when awake. He opened his eyes, and she knew then that she could tell him. That she could tell him anything and he would accept it, and support her, and wouldn't get scared… And she told him. And he didn't get scared.

On the other hand, after the past three days of such escapades Xenia was at the end of her rope: James, in his typical manner, digested the news and went on living with his usual playful ingenuousness, despite Xenia's request to keep the news of her pregnancy to themselves for now. At least, at first, so that they would have time to get used to the idea of becoming parents…

"What do you mean 'stop'?" James protested, setting to the floor the basket filled with nappies, rattles, and toys. There was also a miniature broomstick and even a Quaffle.

"Are you mental?" Xenia laughed, as James caught her in his arms and lifted her high, his smile wide and blithe. "Let me go and stop horsing around…"

"Na-ah," James shook his head. "I am allowed to do it now. I allowed to do anything now… People!"

"Stop it," Xenia hushed, trying to hide a happy smile.

"People!" he shouted even louder, gazing into her eyes. "My wife is pregnant! I will be a father!"

The store patrons turned towards them and smiled; children watched them, puzzled.

"Right; definitely should have kept you in the dark," Xenia said decisively, and James immediately set her down. "Tell me, please, why do we need a broomstick? It will be gathering dust in the corner for the next three years… And the nappies?"

"What do you mean 'why'? We need to buy everything ahead of time; to be ready…" James said, resisting her attempts to empty the basket. "What if we forget something?"

"Potter, haven't you been told that babies gestate for nine months?" Xenia asked in her best imitation of Scorpius, glancing at her watch. The Malfoys were waiting for them to go to James' parents' – Albus was going away to school, and Xenia was trying to find a parting present for him, while James was horsing around, gathering baby stuff around the store.

"You see how little time we have left?" James smiled seductively at his wife, hugging her briefly. "We need to make sure we get everything my son could possibly need…"

"Why your son?" Xenia took out a blue babygrow and a matching bonnet. "What if it's a girl…"

"No, Xenie, it is up to me to continue the Potter line… I don't think my father would be very happy if all his grandsons have the surname of Malfoy... It would be… wrong, somehow…"

"And what of Albus?" Xenia was absentmindedly looking through the content of James' basket.

"Oy, I have long since given up on him. To be precise, since he was about five years old and announced that he wanted to be gay…"

"What?" Xenia laughed incredulously.

"Yes, gay. He heard me use the word and made the fateful announcement…" James kissed the top of Xenia's head, his arm still around her. "So, we'll have a son…"

"In eight months, so take all this," she pointed at the basket, "and put it all back, while I am paying for my purchases… Even more reason not to buy anything ahead of time… Lily will kill you if we are late, and Albus will be upset…"

"Everything is always my fault," James grumbled as he shuffled obediently back toward the shelves. In a couple of minutes he returned, holding the red socks, looking stubbornly determined: "I shall buy these anyway…"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Jim," Xenia sighed, "buy them, only quickly…"

"Fine… And then off we go to the fireplace Hall…"

"I thought we'd Apparate…"

"No, you cannot."

"James Potter!" Xenia punched him playfully in the chest. "I am pregnant, not terminally ill. Therefore, if your idea is to wrap me in cotton and pack me in a box for eight months, you can forget all about it…"

"Pregnant women cannot Apparate; I read so," James said stubbornly, pressing her hand to his chest.

"Potter," Xenia was beginning to get cross. "I am a healer myself, so stop giving me medical advice! Apparating is counter-indicated after ten weeks, and I am on my fourth… So, get going to the cash register or I will curse you before Malfoy gets a chance to…"

He sighed heavily, giving up, and Xenia smiled: when she was with him, she was always blissfully happy, even when she was cross…"