James and Lily spent the morning at St Mungos. The floo travel to London made Lily so nauseous that she was taken by a Healer to lie down on a spare bed on the ward. James was then torn between staying with her and rushing to see Ted. They both knew that he had to do the latter.

The ward had been magically elongated to accommodate the number of patients that were showing no signs of recovery, as well as people like Ted.

Ted lay under the covers in a bed at the very end of the ward. He was asleep, but was shaking.

Andromeda sat on the edge of the bed beside him, eyes red and puffy, watching her husband with maternal-looking heart-break.

"This is my fault," she said quietly. "I criticised him. I told him to stop being so... scared. Practically threw him at her, didn't I..."

She reached towards Ted's face and gently twisted his head upwards. The pillowcase stuck to his face which was sticky with blood, and Andromeda winced as she peeled the pillowcase away from his face. She turned his head to face the other way.

Most of his hair was missing around his ear. The side of his head was scorched; a big bloody patch bordered by black burnt skin.

"Fuck..." James whispered.

"When he wakes, the healers will ask him whether he wants his ear cut off."

James had seen Ted mere hours ago. He'd been so refreshingly calm and content. That was what James liked about Ted's company. Ted was the least intense person he'd ever met.

"Andromeda, this wasn't your fault..."

She shut her eyes, looking annoyed, but her voice wavered with emotion. "I overestimated her. I knew she'd come for me, but I didn't think she'd hurt us... I just thought she'd want to... oh, I don't know. I'm so fucking stupid..."

"Andromeda-"

"I let her get away, too. Couldn't even trap her. I let her disappear. After telling my own child to go and hide in the woods, I fucking let Bella go after her..."

James stayed silent as Andromeda rubbed her temples. He looked over to Nymphadora, who was sitting on a chair near the entrance of the ward, with a healer spoon-feeding her potion for her bandaged wrist.

"She wasn't cursed," said Andromeda, having followed James' gaze. "She tripped over a stump in the woods and fell on her arm."

"Ouch."

"I'm the worst mother in the world."

James looked at her. "Don't be stupid."

"I am!" Tears welled in her eyes. "I can't afford to buy her new clothes, I haven't got any NEWTs so no-one will employ me, I drink too much, I swear too much... Nymphadora can't tie her own shoelaces, did you know that? I had to charm her shoes to tie themselves. She goes to Hogwarts in two months and I still haven't bought her a fucking wand..."

It was uncomfortable to see Andromeda cry. It was wrong, like seeing a cat walk on two legs. Andromeda was meant to be a warrior, and it was maddening that Bellatrix Lestrange could still make her crack.

That was the reality. Bellatrix had done this to her. James refused to believe that Andromeda had already been breaking.

"James... you have to take Nymphadora."

James stared at her. "What?"

"I can't... I can't keep her safe..."

He felt a jolt of panic that he tried to disguise.

"Please... just until the wedding. I'll have to bring her home and... buy her Hogwarts things. I just... I don't want her where Bellatrix knows she lives and I can't leave Ted..."

James looked around for Nymphadora, who was no longer on her chair. She was now sat on Lily's bed, and the pair were talking about something sad. It was uncomfortable, too, to see Nymphadora so sombre. It didn't suit her. She needed to be hyperactive and chatty. James wanted her to be annoying.

James turned back to face Andromeda. "You need to leave, too."

Andromeda gave a half-hearted laugh and rolled her eyes. "I'm not made of money, James."

"Well, I can-"

"If you try and hand me money, I will punch you in the head."

They fell silent, with Andromeda thinking and James secretly relieved that she's jokingly threatened him.

"Ted's got cousins in Prague," said Andromeda with a small shrug. "I might write to them and see if they'll have us when Ted's better... if he gets better."

James sighed. "If I take your kid, I can't tell you where we live. Not because I don't trust you, but in case-"

"I know. I understand. And I trust you," she replied, looking at him sincerely.

James nodded. "It's a scary thought."

"She wouldn't be any trouble," said Andromeda quickly. "She just needs to take her comics and she'll be fine on her own!"

"For two months?"

Andromeda grimaced. "Just make sure she writes to me."

James promised that she would. When he told Lily of this plan, she had been willing to help, just as James had expected. In fact, Lily seemed more willing than James, especially as he noticed that her bump seemed to be protruding noticeably more than it had been yesterday.

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"I'm not sure I like this," James said to Lily later that night, lying in bed and watching her comb her hair.

"You could have said no. Andromeda would've understood."

"I couldn't have... I didn't 'like' fighting Death Eaters, but I still did it. You've got to do things you don't like sometimes. I'm just uneasy."

"Why?" Lily asked. "We'll be fine. Personally, I've never felt safer than in this country. And Dora's an easy girl to handle. Ted plays fetch with her, for crying out loud."

"Still, it's someone else's child. And we've got one of our own coming. What if it arrives while Dora's here? What'll we do?"

Lily put down her comb. "I doubt that'll happen." She thought for a moment, then picked up her comb again and continued. "I'm starting to feel like I'll be pregnant forever. How many months along am I? Eighteen?"

"Well, tell the kid to hurry up. I'm getting impatient."

Lily never combed her hair at a mirror. She always did it at the window, usually open, and looked out of it as though seeing her reflection in the world outside.

"You're very beautiful, Lils. Do I tell you that enough?"

Lily smiled. "You do. I feel very doted-upon."

James regarded her curiously. "Do you think Harry's beautiful?"

Lily looked confused. "Of course..." She put down her comb once more and walked over to the bed.

"Do you think he'll be beautiful when he's older?"

"Of course! Don't you?"

"Yeah, I just... wonder..."

Lily slipped in under the covers, looking at him for any clearer answers.

"There's a difference between handsome and beautiful, right?" James asked her.

Lily thought about it and nodded noncommittally.

"Like Sirius. He's a good-looking bloke, right?"

"Right."

"You'd say that he's handsome, right?"

"Sure."

"But then there's beautiful people... like Ted."

They both looked through their ajar bedroom door, down the hall to where Harry and Nymphadora were sharing a room. There was no noise coming from their room, but that did not assure James that Dora was asleep. She had barely said more than two words since saying goodbye to her parents.

"When people like Ted get hurt..." James continued in a whisper. "... it makes me fucking hate people. Frank's like Ted, too. I hate the world for what it's done to Frank."

To James, Frank would always be a boy. James would always worry about Ted. They were too good and innocent to be subjected to the current state of the world, and the world had noticed this and pounced.

Lily put her hand on his shoulder and leant on it. "Ted and Frank are two heart-breaking people," she concurred. "They were meant for Heaven, not Earth."

James pictured Frank's proud smile after a victorious quidditch game and the way Ted's floppy hair, cigarettes and rebellious clothing clashed with his boyish naivety. He didn't believe in Heaven like Lily believed in Heaven, but he knew that some people belonged to somewhere far purer and happier than the world they were in.

"What is life going to make of Harry?" he asked, gently grazing his cheek against the top of Lily's head.

She lifted her head and turned his to look at her. Her eyes had gone dark and lovely in the dim bedroom.

"He has us. Whenever he's hurt, he'll come to us."

James swallowed thickly. "Imagine if..."

But he didn't finish his sentence. He knew it would be a step backwards to start talking of the past and all its awful variables. He was sat in bed in a cabin in Sweden with his pregnant wife, and the past was not fucking welcome in this moment.

They slipped deeper into the covers, and curled around each other. James pressed a warm hand to his wife's stomach, pressed his nose to the top of her head and breathed in her hair, and pictured the child that was preparing for life inside her. He or she would be just as achingly wonderful as their brother, and it made James feel heavy with dread just to think of how terrified he would be every day, growing old and losing the strength and influence to keep his children from harm and the horrors that happen to beautiful people.

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A/N: This chapter was pathetically small, but the next chapter's going to be THICK.

I've been listening to the composer Max Richter while writing a lot of this story. The song "On The Nature of Daylight" was a heavy influence on this chapter. Past good-uns have been Boy 1904 by Jonsi, Way Go Lily by Sam Amidon and Brennstein by Sigur Ros. I've refrained from writing what I listen to while writing because it really boils my piss when authors punctuate every other sentence with the lyrics to Iris or Yellow or Take me to Church. But those songs I've listed are gorgeous and if you want any more, I've got a playlist for this story I can feed you in the A/Ns?