Epilogue: The Wolf Pup

"We need to get out of here. Lily's going into labor."

Remus stared, looking between Lily and Severus in shock and horror. "What —how—it's too soon!"

Severus was already at Lily's side, guiding her deeper into the alley, calling a response back towards Remus as the other man hurried to catch up. The Healer's worry was evident, though he managed to keep his voice fairly level, playing at a confidence that he didn't feel. "She's right at the end of the 7th month. It's pretty early, but — we'll make it work. Everything's going to be fine."

Lily gasped as a contraction hit. "We need to go. Now."

"You can't apparate!" Remus, in his panic, clung to one of the few pregnancy facts he could remember in that moment, prompting exasperated sighs from both Lily and Severus.

"In case you haven't noticed, Remus, I'm in labor and we're in the middle of a warzone! This is not the time to look for alternate transportation! Now take my arm and aim for the bedroom, no way in hell am I climbing those stairs right now."

Remus scrambled to obey, grabbing Lily's left arm as Severus took her right, all three of them focusing all their concentration on getting Lily home in one piece. A moment of relief when they arrived safely on the upper story of the house at Spinner's End, then the reality of the situation hit. Lily was in labor, months before the anticipated end of her pregnancy, Diagon Alley was under attack, and they were on their own. Remus was outwardly the most panicked, out of his element and terrified to think of all the things that could possibly go wrong, things that he could do nothing about. Severus, with a better understanding of what was going on and a clearer role to play, was at the same time more concerned and less panicked. He knew all the things that could go wrong, the things that already might be going wrong to send Lily into labor so early, but he also knew what steps to take and how to proceed given the situation. Lily, ironically, seemed the calmest of the three, once her initial shock began to wear off. She trusted Severus, perhaps more than he trusted himself; he was the one who had overseen her whole pregnancy, the one who she had always planned would deliver her baby. She knew exactly what knowledge he had, what training they had received together, remembered well the delivery they had presided over side by side. If anyone could get them through this, it was him, whether he believed it himself or not.

And indeed, Severus seemed to grow more confident by the moment, pushing aside concerns and worries that he could do nothing about, and focusing on the steps that he could take. Pulling out all of the potions he had begun to brew as soon as Lily's pregnancy had been confirmed, potions to ease labor and alleviate pain, and a calming draught for Remus, who seemed in dire need of one. Casting every spell he could think of to monitor both Lily and the child, already anticipating what might need to be done to ensure the survival and wellbeing of a baby born after only seven months. Even with the assistance of magic, labor continued for hours, long hours of feigned confidence and hidden fears, anticipated joy warring with thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong. Night fell and the stars came out, just visible through a crack in the window curtain, peace and calm at odds with the frenzied activity of the birthing room. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, just as the first hints of dawn began to brighten the eastern sky, Lily gave birth to a tiny, perfect baby girl.

There were tears and congratulations, relief and celebration, all the emotions suppressed (with varying degrees of success) over the course of the long night bubbling to the surface. A few more tests, diagnostic spells confirming that both mother and child had made it through safely, reassurances that they all needed after the fears of the last dozen or so hours. It was then that exhaustion hit, and before long all three Lupins had surrendered to much needed sleep, some more fitfully than others. Severus, on the other hand, found himself far too awake despite the hour. No doubt he would crash before too long, when the excitement and adrenaline finally wore off, but for now there seemed no point in attempting to rest. He made his way down to the kitchen, brewing himself a mug of coffee and settling at the table to drink it, staring at the wall and thinking of everything and nothing. An owl tapping at the window roused Severus from his reverie, and he rose with a sigh to collect the Daily Prophet, to which the household had only recently resubscribed to keep abreast of the news. Absentmindedly unrolling the paper, he was suddenly glad that he had not yet taken a sip of his drink, for no doubt he would have spat it across the table. It had been easy, caught up in the whirlwind of Lily's labor, to forget the scene of chaos the trio had fled in Diagon Alley, to set aside worries over what might be happening in the rest of the world and focus only on the little piece of it that was most important in that moment. Severus had been dimly aware of Remus receiving a patronus message not long after they had apparated home, a call for reinforcements from James, but had put it from his mind as soon as Remus's response ("Lily's in labor, we can't leave her. Good luck") was sent. It was only now, confronted on the front page of the Daily Prophet by a photograph of Voldemort's victory speech at the Ministry of Magic, that he realized the true extent of the previous evening's events. It had not been a single, isolated attack on Diagon, or even a set of several coordinated assaults on other cultural centers; it had been the conquest of the entire wizarding world.

He couldn't tear his eyes away, reading in rapt, horrified fascination. The Dark Lord's speech was printed in its entirety, along with the prophecy that seemed to damn them all. Severus's thoughts whirled, shock making it only more difficult for his sleep deprived mind to focus on the words in front of him, struggling to process what he was seeing. The words swirled in front of his eyes. A prophecy, just as he and his friends had speculated so long ago — had it truly only been a year before? So many of the young Order members who had sat together in each other's homes, stood whispering after meetings at Headquarters, so many of them were now dead. They had been right, but there was no satisfaction in that, not when Alice and Frank were dead because of it, not when little Neville was gone, and with him all of Dumbledore's hopes. Another piece connected then; no wonder the Headmaster had reacted so strongly to the Longbottoms' deaths, going into seclusion and all but abandoning his people. Severus read through the prophecy again, as if he could make sense of the situation if only he could commit the words to memory. Born as the seventh month dies. Neville had been born at the end of July. Severus remembered it well, the summer heat as he and Lily delivered the baby. His thoughts flashed back to another delivery room, only the night before, or had it been morning by then? His own words reassuring Remus over and over that Lily's baby would be fine, it was the end of her seventh month, that was long enough. The end of the seventh month.

His thoughts turned to Neville again, another perfect baby he'd held so briefly in his arms, only to be found dead within a year. Desperately Severus tried to redirect his thoughts, flipping through the newspaper. His eye caught on a photograph, Alice and Lily dueling the Dark Lord, the photograph he and Remus had tried to hang on the fridge before Lily put a stop to it. They still had it somewhere, tucked away as a memento. Young witches stand defiant against Dark Lord, the caption had said. It was reprinted here, along with the matching line from the prophecy. Born to those who have thrice defied him. The phrase sounded familiar; Severus's tired mind tried to make the connection. A toast after he himself destroyed the locket horcrux, Diana's voice echoing in his ears 'To Severus Prince and defiance of the Dark Lord'. And another, Remus, voice gruff in imitation of Aberforth Dumbledore: 'it's a fool who defies the Dark Lord to his face, boy'. He flipped the page, the words of the prophecy written out again and again. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. 'It's alright, Remus, it's the end of the seventh month, she'll be alright'. Born as the seventh month dies. The pieces swirled together, thoughts almost aligning, slipping past each other. Defiance. Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies.

Severus's mug smashed to the ground, spilling coffee across the kitchen floor. Upstairs, Althea Prince Lupin began to cry.

...

Author's Note: Here ends the tale...for now. As you may have guessed from this epilogue, the adventures of Sev, Lily, Remus and the rest of the gang are far from over, and I do intend to write more of their story in the future. My current plan is to first write a set of shorter segments/one-shots to cover the intervening ~11 years (tentatively titled "A Prince Among Wolves"), before concluding with a second full-length fic for Althea Prince Lupin's time at Hogwarts. The writing timeline on this is yet to be determined, though I expect it will be months before I am able to start posting again.

I hope you have enjoyed going on this journey with me as much as I have enjoyed taking you on it, and I hope to see you again when we return with the sequels. As always please let me know your thoughts in the comments, particularly if you have any predictions for where this story might go next (I love to hear your theories)! Thank you again to everyone who has read, followed, bookmarked, and/or commented on this story, I appreciate you more than I can say. And, for the last time, a huge thank you to Rory for beta reading and keeping me and this story on track.