Home Again

Dedications: Here I go again.

My Muse- She obviously wanted this written.

Chapter 1: John and Lily

(8:39 p.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

Lily Evans plopped down on her bed after a long day of chasing her small son, Harry, around the house. He had just learned to crawl, and was quite fast for an 11-month-old. Lily had, at first, encouraged his new skill by playing “hide-and-seek” with him, but the child seemed to like that game too much. She had lost him for thirty or so minutes, until he finally peeked his scruffy black head around the corner, grinning at his mother. Relieved, she had bathed him, fed him, and put him to bed.

Now she was tired. John was due to work late tonight and wouldn't be home for the next hour or so. She forced herself to get out of bed and change into her pajamas; she didn't want to have to do much moving when John got home. All she wanted was to be cuddled. Clad in her pajamas, she slipped back into bed and wrapped herself in the comforter, imagining it was John that was holding her. She made a little moaning sound and snuggled into the comforter. The wave of sleep was hitting her about now, and she'd be freshly rested for when John came home.

`Maybe we'll watch a movie later. Or…something like that. James is always ready for--'

Her eyes shot open and she suddenly felt very cold. James. Why had she thought about him? John, she corrected herself mentally. John. Even though no one was around, Lily felt extremely embarrassed. This had happened many times before. She had even called out James's name when--well, that's not important, is it? What's important is that she needed to push the name `James Potter' as far out of her mind as she could get it.

She glanced over at the baby monitor on her bedside table. No noise was coming from it. She sighed, and at the same time grew very sad.

`He hadn't wanted him.'

Lily thought back to the argument she and James had had a couple days before she and Harry left. Lily had been feeding Harry--they had just got back from the hospital a few hours before--and James was looking at him nervously. Lily had asked him what the matter was, and he said, very seriously, that he wasn't sure if he was ready to be a father yet.

Lily closed her eyes, trying to remember everything from that night, down to the floral comforter that she'd put on their bed.

“Well, you should have said something before you got me pregnant,” she jibed lightly. James chuckled nervously.

“Lil, I'm serious.” He looked down at the baby. “He's…he's so tiny. What if…I hurt him by mistake, or something?”

She put a hand on his arm comfortingly. “I'm sure you'll do fine.”

“What if I don't? I don't know the first thing about taking care of babies! This is the first one I've ever been around.”

“You've got to start some time,” she pointed out. “We're stuck with him for the next eighteen years.” She smiled down at Harry.

“I--I'm only eighteen myself,” he said tensely. “I'm too young.”

“That's not what you said for the past nine months!” said Lily, growing annoyed; Harry could sense this and started fussing. “Shh,” she soothed. Once he quieted down, she looked back up at James. “Do you remember what you kept telling me during my pregnancy?” James grew silent, choosing to stare at the floor rather than his wife. “I do. `You don't have to be scared, Lily! I'll be there! I'm going to help you with the baby! You don't have to worry about quitting your job, or giving up college, your hopes and dreams, because I'll be there. I know what to do!'”

James's cheeks reddened. “I…I didn't say that last bit.”

Lily glared at him. “That's what I interpreted.”

“Well, you definitely interpreted wrong,” said James bluntly. “I don't know how to take care of a baby.”

“There's really not much to it,” Lily said, “You feed him, change him, bathe him, and play with him. It just takes some getting used to.”

“What if I don't get used to it?”

“You know, you're giving me the impression that you don't want this baby.”

“I never--”

“You're not dedicated at all. You're complaining more than you're helping.”

James looked from Lily to Harry. He was done eating now and Lily had him cuddled against her. She was rocking him slightly in her arms and he kept opening and closing his little eyes, seemingly trying to decided whether or not he wanted to sleep. Did he really want to be weighted down with a child? He thought.

`I'm only eighteen. I don't want a child. But I do want Lily. She wanted him. The whole time she wanted him. I don't want to settle down so soon! We're barely out of school and we have a baby already. She was right. I don't want him.'

James looked at Lily once more, trying to find the right way to express to her what he was both feeling and thinking, when it just came out, so bluntly, rough, and harshly.

“Maybe I don't want him.”

He instantly felt like an ass, because the moment Lily comprehended what he said, she looked extremely hurt. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Without another word, she gathered Harry in her arms and walked from the room, ignoring James's call of, “Lily, I--that's not what I meant!”

She had spent the rest of the night on the couch with Harry sleeping beside her in his bassinet.

Wet, hot tears brought Lily out of her reverie. She wiped them away, sniffling, and felt an ache in her chest. She brought her knees up to her and laid her head down, a choked sob emitting from her.

`I miss him.'

And John knew this. He knew that Lily wasn't truly happy, that she had been sort of scarred by James's refusal of Harry. But he tried his best to heal her heart. Lily felt better when she thought of him. John. He didn't mind that she had a baby, or that she hadn't been a virgin when they'd met, and he still loved her. And he loved Harry, whom he had known from the time he was two weeks old.

`James cared. He didn't want our baby. Why am I crying over him?'

`Because you still love him,' said a voice inside of her head. `He was your first love. You'll always miss him.'

“Oh, bugger off,” she said, annoyed at the voice.

“Fine,” a voice from the doorway said, sounding facetiously hurt, “I'll just go talk to Harry.”

“John!” she said, excited, hopping off of the bed and over to him, hugging him in welcome. “You're early.”

He smiled into her hair. “Yeah. They let us out forty minutes early.” John worked at the Ministry of Magic, where Lily had worked when they met. He worked in the Apparation Test Center. Same as she had.

“Why?” she asked, still clinging to him as he tried to set his briefcase down.

“Lily, off!” he said, not really annoyed with her. She let go. “Because the last kid didn't show up for his test.”

She laughed. “It's funny. You calling him a kid when we're not much older ourselves.”

It was true; Lily and John were both only nineteen. Though he was a few months older than she was.

He shrugged. “That doesn't matter. We have forty extra minutes.” He grinned, and she crossed her arms over her chest in a challenging manner, giving him an odd grin.

“Forty extra minutes for what, John?” she teased. He pulled her toward him and nuzzled her neck, giving it a light nip with his mouth. Lily giggled.

“Oh. For that.” She grinned at him. One thing Lily was glad for was the fact that John and James looked almost nothing alike. It made certain things easier. James had shorter, straight, black hair, glasses, and a clear complexion, while John was more like Lily with long, curly hair (Although it was brown rather than red, and not halfway down his back. Just an inch or so past his ears.), a face full of freckles, and good vision.

And sex with John was much different than sex with James. Lily didn't know exactly how to explain it. She guessed that it was how they had each approached it. James…shall we say, rushed things a bit, while John was slower, and seemed to like to savor each moment they were together. Lily had to admit that she preferred John. First love or not, James had not put much thought into what Lily wanted in a relationship.

Another reason she was with John.

(9.30 p.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

Snug and warm in John's arms, Lily grinned and snuggled closer to him. He kissed her neck, blowing softly on the freckled skin, which sent shivers up her spine. Lily moaned.

“Oh? You like that?” John teased, making to pin Lily down on the bed, part of their little `game'.

He leaned down to kiss her, but was interrupted by the cries of a small baby. Lily groaned, but this time, it wasn't out of pleasure.

“Way to ruin the moment, Harry,” she grumbled, and John moved from off of her. She slipped her robe on overtop of her undergarments, which was all she managed to get on before John had pulled her back on the bed for cuddling, and stepped from the room, down the hallway, and into the nursery.

Harry had pulled himself onto his feet and was grasping the railing, a sad look on his face. Lily instantly forgot her annoyance at the sight of him. He flailed his arms out toward her, falling down onto his bottom in the process.

His mother giggled and picked him up. “You're not strong enough to stand yet, are you, Harry?” she asked him. He made a gurgling noise in response.

“What do you want, eh?” she asked. “Are you hungry? Wet?” She checked. Clean. “Do you want your bottle, Harry?”

The sound he responded with suggested a `no'. Lily raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you interrupt daddy and me? Hmm?” He laughed.

“What's so funny?” she teased him, tickling his chubby stomach, encouraged by his shrill giggling.

“Oi,” came a voice from the doorway, “what's all the noise?” Harry stopped giggling immediately and watched his father cross the room. When he reached Lily and Harry, he smiled at him, letting up his mock annoyed expression.

“Da!” Harry burbled at John, reaching for him. He obliged him and lifted him from his mother's arms, making funny faces at him, to which Harry responded by grabbing his nose.

“Oi!” he said, his voice distorted, “let go!” Harry giggled, but obeyed. “Silly,” said John, tickling him. Harry laid against his chest and closed his eyes.

“Oh. You wanted daddy,” said Lily, sounding slightly hurt. John put an arm around her and kissed her cheek.

“He just wanted to cuddle.”

“With you.”

“So…?”

Lily smiled. “I was just teasing. Are we bringing him back to our room?”

“Sure looks that way,” he commented, looking down at Harry, who was watching his parents out of one eye; he shut it as soon as he saw that John noticed. Lily and he both giggled.

“My little man,” she said fondly, rumpling his hair. “So much like your father.”

At these words, the adults exchanged glances and went silently with Harry to their room.

: : :

Okay, I think I will start ending my chapters with three colons, since the site won't let me use the asterisks like I used to.

So…what do you all think? Do you like John? Hate James? I want feedback! -wink-

Megan

-->

Dedications:

My bowl of almonds: They're yummy.

Chapter 2: Returning

(8:21 a.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

“Ow!” mumbled Lily, turning over to glare at her boyfriend, who was sitting on their floor. “You squished my foot!”

John looked sheepishly up at her from slipping on his sock. “Sorry. I tried not to wake you, but I sort of…erm…tripped.”

Lily chuckled. “You were always the graceful one.”

“Hey!” He blushed.

Lily stuck out her foot. “Look what you did!” she admonished, even though there were no marks. “Make it better!” she stuck her nose up in the air, crossing her arms and closing her eyes simultaneously. She immediately felt John's curly hair against her leg as he bent to nuzzle her foot. He gave it a quick kiss and looked up at her.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah.” She sunk to the floor beside him and sat herself in his lap, nestling her head against his chin.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he answered, kissing her.

“So where were you going?” she asked pensively, tracing the design on his shirt with her finger.

“The kid showed up today. They called me in.”

Lily looked up at him, and he could tell by the look on her face that she was not happy. “But it's Saturday!” she whined. “You have to stay!”

“It'll only take an hour,” he assured her, stroking her hair softly, “I'll be back before you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. I'll just play with Harry until you get back.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Good. Do you want me to get anything for breakfast while I'm out?” Their eyes met; she noticed his one raised eyebrow. Lily thought; did she feel like cooking? Not really.

“Sure. Just pick up my usual from McDonald's.”

John gave her an incredulous look. “For breakfast?”

“Yes!” she chirped happily with a grin. “McFlurries are a wonderful merger of all the food groups! A perfect selection for your balanced breakfast.”

He rolled his eyes, ensuing a grin from her. “I'm picking you up a sandwich, too.”

“You spoil all the fun,” she pouted playfully, giving him `puppy dog' eyes.

“Really?” An impish grin parted his lips. “I didn't hear too many complaints last night.” He finished with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Lily had the good sense to blush and swat him lightly on the shoulder, but didn't comment any further.

“Anyway,” he said, assuming a more serious tone of voice and glancing at his watch, “it's about time for me to go. I'll see you in an hour. Maybe an hour and a half if the traffic is bad.” He stood up, pulling her to her feet beside him simultaneously.

“'Bye!” he said, giving her a quick kiss. Lily had barely any time to respond before he had picked up his briefcase and was in the doorway. He stopped at her call.

“Yes?” he asked, not sounding the least bit impatient, looking over his shoulder at her. She walked over to him, and wrapped him tightly in her embrace, her sweatshirt feeling very warm against him. She nuzzled him.

“You don't have to rush off, you know,” she said groggily, eyes shut. “You don't need to drive in. Just Apparate or Floo!”

“I can't if I'm getting you food!”

“Then I'll cook.”

“Why do you want me to stay so badly?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“You haven't said good morning to Harry!” she insisted. “He misses you so much during the day!”

John sighed. “I know. But do we really want to wake him now?”

Lily was about to respond, but a noise from the next room beat her to it. She took John's free hand in hers and led him into the baby's room. Harry smiled up at them from the crib. He was laying on his back and babbling senselessly in baby-talk at them. Lily smiled at her son and lifted him from his bed, cradling him in his arms. The boy immediately fussed, as this was not the way he liked to be held.

“No!” he whined, struggling to free himself from Lily's tight hold. She rolled her eyes at his familiar expression, but arranged him in his favorite position; facing forward, supported under his arms. Harry liked to be able to look around. He giggled at John and his bright eyes lit up.

“He's such a happy baby,” said John, eyes shimmering, as he let the boy grab onto his finger with his tiny hand.

“He's happy to see daddy,” Lily said, kissing Harry's cheek. “Aren't you?”

“Da!” Harry enthused, scrambling his arms toward John. Lily handed him over, watching the two laugh, talk (or try to, in Harry's case), and play. She felt a slight ache in her chest at the thought of James. He hadn't seen Harry since the night she left. When he was four days old…

“I'm going, James!” she yelled across the living room, hoping her voice would carry to the massive kitchen, where she knew James was. All of her things, besides Harry and his travel bag, had been moved to her new apartment, so there wasn't much to carry.

The western-style doors swung open and James emerged, trying to look calm; he wasn't hiding it well. All she needed to do was look at his eyes to see that he was a mess inside. Obviously, he had regretted what he said to Lily two nights before. But that did little to ease her pain.

“Bye,” she said sheepishly, bending down to grab Harry's bag and the handle of his car seat carrier. James didn't look at her. He only looked down at the infant in his seat with misty eyes. She was glad that his bangs had fallen in front of his eyes; she didn't need to see him crying. This was already hard enough.

“B-bye,” he whispered. A whisper seemed to be all that he could manage. It broke Lily's heart to hear him sound like that; so distant, far, lost, and confused. And cold. For the past two years, Lily had looked to James for a source of comfort, friendship, and love. Why, then, was she leaving him? Why were her baby's things all packed up with hers? Why had she signed divorce papers? Why had she bought an apartment in Hogsmeade?

`I'll tell you why,' began the nasty little voice inside of her head, `he didn't want your baby. He didn't want to be a father. He said so. You heard him.'

`I know,' she responded. Her breathing was becoming shaky and quick. She wanted to leave as soon as she could. She began to walk to the front door of their--his house, and found that with every step she took, a little piece of her was dying. But she didn't look back. She didn't say a word. Her chest ached like hell and she knew why; she didn't want to go. She loved James. Stopping for a moment, she glanced into the mirroring glass panel on the back of the door; he hadn't taken his eyes off of Harry the whole time.

“Lily?” John's concerned tone startled her out of her memory. Harry was silently looking at her. “Are you alright? You look like you're about to cry.”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut to get rid of the lingering tears. “I'm fine. I was just thinking.”

“What were you thinking about that made you cry?” he wondered aloud.

“Nothing,” she replied softly, glancing over at the wall clock. “Oh!” she remembered suddenly, abandoning her melancholy disposition, “You'd better get going before that kid leaves again!”

John checked his watch in a hurried rush. “You're right!” he exclaimed, holding Harry out toward her. She took him. He kissed both of their cheeks quickly and rushed out of the house. When Lily heard the front door shut, she wandered into their room, Harry perched on her hip, and stared out of the curtained window into the driveway. His car was backing out and she listened to the vroom of his car as it sped down the street.

He was, like Lily, one of the few wizards that had bothered to get a driver's license. What was surprising was that he wasn't even Muggle-born, as she was. He had just always liked the thought of driving, and pursued it. She turned her gaze away from the window and knelt down on the floor, setting Harry beside her, so she could search under the bed. Harry wandered around the room, grabbing his mother's bedroom slippers. Lily giggled and then stuck her hand under the bed, trying to find an album.

After going nearly all the way under, she found it, hiding cleverly in the far corner. She grunted a bit as she shuffled back out and Harry eyed her disheveled appearance inquiringly. She gave him a look of her own.

“What?” she asked, sounding playfully annoyed, “is there something wrong with mommy being dusty?”

Although he didn't understand a word of what she said (apart from `mommy') he giggled at her.

She placed the dusty album in her lap and brushed it off. Harry placed his hands on it for support and looked up at his mother.

“Gah?” he asked her.

Hearing his baby gibberish always made Lily laugh. She exchanged the album for Harry, and he cuddled himself in her lap, gazing over to the dusty book she had slid onto the floor in front of them.

Lily flipped the cover over. The book had a very musty smell from laying in its resting place with the dust bunnies and the occasional dirty sock. Harry coughed and put his hand over his nose.

“Bleh!” he remarked, giving his mother an annoyed look. Lily couldn't help but smile. Oh, how he resembled James! She rumpled his mess of hair and kissed his forehead.

“Do you want to see your father and me? I have a lot of pictures.”

“Uhh?” he asked. Lily interpreted this as “Father?” and proceeded to flip the first empty, dusty page over. Harry squealed in excitement when he saw that the next page was full of colorful, moving pictures.

“Ma!” he said excitedly, pointing down at the Lily in the picture. She nodded.

“Very good, Harry!” she praised. “Now who is that?” She pointed to the tall, black-haired man beside her. He had his arm around her and was smiling broadly at the camera. Lily's heart ached at the sight of him and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes.

“Huu?” he repeated phonetically, mimicking her. She giggled, sniffling a bit. Placing her finger on James's face, she said, “That's your father. See? He looks like you.”

“You?” Harry repeated, confused.

“Yes, sweetie,” tittered Lily, “you.”

“You!” he enthused, smiling.

“And there he is again, Harry!” she said brightly, mesmerizing the small child with the moving pictures, “That was our graduation day.” Picture James kissed picture Lily on the cheek and she felt a sharp pang in her chest.

“Da! Ma!” said Harry, pointing as James repeated the act. Lily smiled and wiped her eyes. He was probably referring to the kissing she and John did. Harry was such a smart baby.

Just like his father…

James.

Lily flipped the page, her eyes clouded with tears. Her breathing was becoming quick again. A tear slipped from her eye and landed with a splat on the page, startling Harry.

“Ma!” he said, in his little gasping voice. He touched her cheek with a tiny hand in the place where another tear was trailing behind. He wiped it off.

“'Ook!” he insisted, pointing to the page. He tapped it firmly until she smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Alright, Harry,” she said, cuddling him, “let's look.”

And for the next half and hour, she showed him all of the pictures in the album, including the ones of him on the day he was born. James's mother had gone camera crazy, so there were plenty of those. Lily had laughed when he'd remarked “Baby!” and she had to remind him that he was still a baby. Of course she'd cried a bit when she reached the picture of the three of them; Lily was laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to who knew what, Harry, wrapped in a fuzzy blue blanket, was cradled in her arms, and James was sitting beside her, gazing down at the infant and occasionally touching his cheek gently with his finger. He had his other arm around Lily.

This was when the torrent of tears had begun. She lifted Harry from her lap and set him on the floor beside her and drew her knees to her chest, sobbing and drawing in deep, raspy breaths. Tears fell from her cheeks to her legs and ran down to her ankles, creating a small, discolored mark on the carpet.

Harry was worriedly trying to calm his mother down. “Ma!” he repeated over and over again, scrabbling at her leg as he tried to get her attention. She finally lifted her head to look at him; her eyes were puffy and somewhat bloodshot, and the rivers of tears didn't seem to be capable of drying.

Her son gave her a “I'm the only one in this house allowed to cry!” look, and she picked him up and cradled him. He didn't seem to mind this time, since his mother seemed to be soothing.

“I miss him, Harry,” she whispered into his ear. “And I bet he misses us.”

“Us?” Harry asked of the unfamiliar word.

“Mommy and you,” said Lily. “Would you like to have lived with James?”

Harry didn't answer her. He struggled to get out of her grasp, but not because he didn't like the way he was holding her this time. He crawled in front of the book and pointed at the man with the shaggy black hair.

“Ames!” he declared proudly.

Lily smiled at him. A true, genuine smile. “Yes, Harry,” she said, almost eagerly, “James.”

“Ma! Ames!”

“Yes.”

“Da?” he asked unexpectedly. Lily felt a rush of coldness sweep through her. John. What about John? She sighed angrily after a moment.

`A look through the photo album does not change anything,' she resolutely explained to herself. `Just because you miss him, does not mean that he misses you!'

`But what if he does?' the voice taunted inquiringly.

`He didn't want him,' said Lily's conscious sadly, referring to the bubbly baby at her heels.

`People change,' said the voice silkily.

`What do you mean?' No response. `Hello?'

She sighed and turned her attention back to Harry. “Want breakfast?”

Harry nodded enthusiastically and pointed to his mouth. “'Ood!” He reached his arms toward her begging to be picked up. She gave him a `look' and said, “Oh? Now you want mommy?” before picking him up and heading down to the kitchen. In the hallway she passed the picture of the three of them (she, John, and Harry, that is) sitting in the studio of a professional photographer. Ignoring herself and Harry, she focused on John.

What would her life be like without him? She knew that his love had saved her from suicide several times before. When she had first started working at the Ministry, Harry had come along with her every day, due to her lack of funds to pay for a sitter. John, who worked two desks down from her, was instantly curious about the young girl and her baby, and tried to strike up a conversation with her during their lunch break.

He had then learned how sad and hurt she was, and that she wanted desperately to be with her ex-husband again. John had tried to be as comforting as he could. He had quickly become a good friend and they spent a lot of their time together; talking, going out for dinner, playing with Harry, and walking around Hogsmeade (where they had both lived at the time).

And although he had known very well that Lily was still madly in love with the baby's father, John had tried to pursue a relationship with her. One night, it had all just--happened. They'd been sitting on the couch--Lily was feeding Harry--and when he finished…well, the rest was a blur. But 6 months later, here they were. In a nice, new house in Godric's Hollow.

Same place as she and James had lived.

She tore her eyes from the picture, rounded the corner and went downstairs. The living room was still clean from yesterday's spurt of Spring Cleaning (mind you, it was December), and Lily inhaled its fresh scent. She loved things to be clean. If Harry threw even one toy out of his crib, she had a hard time bypassing the room without putting it back.

“'Ood!” Harry insisted impatiently; Lily heard his stomach growl.

“Sorry. Sorry,” she said and hurried into the kitchen where the cold, floor tiles sent goose bumps up her arms and legs. Placing Harry in his high chair, she then went to the pantry to grab the instant cereal mix. The whole process of sprinkling the powder into his favorite red bowl, adding a bit of cinnamon for extra flavor, giving it a tap with her wand (which Harry gasped in awe at) and setting it on the tray in front of him took about 30 seconds. She even bewitched the spoon to feed him.

Harry giggled and bounced happily in his chair. He loved seeing his parents use magic and got excited every time. It never seemed to get old. Lily gave him a kiss on the forehead before she walked into the living room to select a magazine from her basket. She wanted to make this quick in case anything happened while she was out of the kitchen. Even simple household spells could be dangerous.

Her hand was on the latest copy of “People Magazine” when the doorbell rang. She grew excited. It had been nearly an hour. John! He was home! She rushed to the front door, the wintriness of the doorknob seeping into her skin, and she swung the door open, a welcoming grin on her face.

But when she saw who was standing before her, it distorted into an expression that could be described as many things. Confused. Surprised. Worried. Angry. Amorous, even.

The person on her doorstep was the last person she had expected to see.

Because the person on her doorstep was James Potter.

: : :

Yay! Return of the cliffies. Go Megan.

I would like to add that I was pleasantly surprised at both the quick succession and number of reviews that my first chapter received. I checked my mail this morning and 6 emails were in there! I grinned…muchly.

My first reviewers!

satans little fairy--I like James too, but he was bad James! He redeems himself nicely, though.

Cherry Chalk--Yes, I do try to limit my stories to original ideas. Not the ones where Lily and James are in school and they hate each other, or she hates him and he loves her, and they get together in the end. While some of them are well written, one does grow bored. -wink- I hope this chappie was good enough for your faves!

LJstagflower4e/JCtigerwolf4e--Like I said before--your penname takes way too long to type! xP Hah! I win! I made you hate James and love John! Just like I told you I would. -smug grin- And I put the question “Why did I sign divorce papers?” in there just for you, Becca! They WERE married!

Pale pink roses--Microsoft Works does not want to let me leave the first `p' lower case. Anywho, glad you loved the chapter! I didn't even like James at the time I wrote that, and he is my second favorite character next to Lily! And we ALL love John! (Even you, Becca! Bwahaha.)

athenakitty--You know, I don't think that you've ever sent me a review that had a statement in it. -Grin- And I even managed to answer a couple of them in this chapter! I'll try my best with the rest: I'm not spoiling the bit about James. You'll have to wait until the next chapter. Sirius is very irrelevant to this story and I'm not sure where he fits in yet. That's the lovely thing about waking up with an idea--your brain doesn't fill in the simpler bits. And just in case this didn't clear things up, Harry did not know who James even WAS until Lily showed him the pictures. He called John daddy. Or “Da”. Because John is the only father figure he knows.

Megan

-->

Chapter 3: The Deal

(9:17 a.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Lily surveyed him from his shoes to the chaotic black hair atop his head. He was wearing a dark blue sweater with gray trousers along with a chenille scarf to match his sweater. A plain black robe (left unhitched for style purposes) served as his top layer. His attire made her feel very underdressed indeed; she had on thin plaid pajama pants and an oversized green sweater that read “Kiss Me--I'm Irish!” on the front. Her ponytail was a disheveled mess and she was almost certain that there was a piece of dust lingering above her eyebrow.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked. Her arms were trembling slightly and her eyes were as wide as saucers. It was a new sensation to Lily; she had never been nervous around him before.

“I heard that you lived nearby,” he said in the same familiar, deep tones. “I thought I'd--er--say hello.”

“Hello…” said Lily awkwardly, trailing off. To break the silence and to be polite (not to mention that she really wanted him to stay), she remembered her manners. “Would you, erm, like to come in? Harry's eating breakfast right now.”

James looked a little uneasy at the mention of his son, but differently so. It wasn't like it had been on `that night'. They were two completely different kinds of uneasy and Lily was eager to learn exactly how they were different.

“Sure,” he responded. Lily backed up and he stepped over the threshold, looking around the room. The walls were bare of any color except for the few portraits they'd scattered throughout the house, the carpet was gray, brand-new and freshly steamed, and the tile bordering the doorway was plain white separated by straight black lines. Lily had also tried to add a bit of a feminine touch to the room with ribboned curtains, doilies, and potted plants. She noticed James smirk for a moment at the site of these, and she held back her own smile; he had teased her when she'd brought them out at their old house.

“Everything looks so new,” he commented conversationally. “Did you just move in?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest for warmth, “a couple of months ago.” She found that it wasn't hard to talk to James at all. Maybe it was her body's reaction to crying for him all the time. He was here now. There was no need to cry.

“Is it just you and Harry?” he asked tentatively, although his expression suggested that he already knew the answer.

“No,” she said; it felt like a huge weight had been tossed into the pit of her stomach as she said this, “my--er--boyfriend too.”

If there was an Olympic competition for the most put-out expression, James Potter would have taken home the gold. It was obvious to Lily that he had heard about John, but didn't really believe it--or want to believe it--until it came out of Lily's mouth. And if there was a subsequent competition for attempting to hide said expression, he surely would have been sent back home.

“So, what's his name?”

“John. John Stroud.”

James gave a nod. “Lily Stroud?”

“Not yet,” she said, trying to suppress a grin; she couldn't help it, John made her happy. “But we have talked about it.”

Another nod. Lily could tell that he was hurting inside. He had the same foggy look in his eyes as he had when Lily had left all those months ago. “Where's Harry?”

Lily's blood froze. Harry was still in his high chair. Hopefully her magic trick had amused him long enough; he usually whined and wriggled to get out of his chair the moment he had finished. What if it tipped over? She nearly ran straight to her baby, but she didn't want to give off `bad-mommy' vibes to James, so she kept quiet and calmly lead him to the kitchen.

She sighed with relief once she saw him; he was sitting in his chair still, trying to catch the spoon, but it stayed cleverly out of reach. When he saw the two adults, he shifted his attention away from the flying spoon and said cheerfully, “Ma! Ames!” along with a bang of his little fists on the tray of the high chair.

James seemed slightly impressed that Harry knew and could say his name, but was also confused. He raised an eyebrow at Lily, whose cheeks took on a bit of a pinkish shade. “How does he know my name?”

She doddered nervously from foot to foot. “We…were, uh, looking at pictures this morning. I told him who you are.” This time both of his eyebrows were arched into the air; it was clear that he suspected a fib.

“Pictures?” he reverberated dubiously.

Lily nodded confidently to mollify his suspicions. “I just…felt like looking through them. And I showed Harry.”

Harry perked up again at the mention of his name and looked at his mother. “Ma?”

Pretending neither of them had said anything, she walked over to the high chair and lifted him out of it, beaming. “Good! You didn't get messy!”

“No!” said Harry proudly. He hugged his mother around the neck and she patted his back in return. With a flick of her wand, she ended the feeding spell on the spoon and it descended to the tray with a clank. Lily turned around to face James, who had a smile etched onto his face.

“He's so cute,” he said earnestly. Lily glowed with pride; every mother liked to hear this of her child, even if it was their father who was saying it.

“Would you like to hold him?” she asked nervously. `Oh God, please don't let him say no.'

“Okay,” he said with a smile. Lily smiled at him in exchange. `He didn't say no! He doesn't hate Harry!' “Let's go in to the living room. I want to talk.” James bobbled his head and stepped aside for Lily to lead them in to the living room.

They took adjacent seats on the couch and Lily offered Harry to James. He took him rather nervously, as if Harry were a delicate antique, but held him close. Harry seemed to like James, because he didn't complain at all about the closeness; he usually only let himself be cuddled when he was tired--less argumentative. Lily smiled down at her son; he adjusted well to strangers. Though she doubt he counted James as a stranger. He had seen pictures of him this morning and was a relatively trusting child. If he saw someone in a book, a picture, or on the television, he considered them to be people he knew.

“Ames,” said Harry, tugging on his scarf and gazing up at him with his scintillating green eyes. James looked down at him, anticipating a reply.

“What?” he asked, trying to sound as `baby-friendly' as he could. Lily rolled her eyes at him.

“He's not going to answer you,” she said, concealing her giggle so not to offend him. “He's just talking. And he wants attention.”

“Oh.” He sounded embarrassed. “Well…I…er….” He trailed off. Harry grabbed his father's finger and began nipping it lightly with his tiny, newly-grown teeth.

Lily watched the adorable sight for a moment before looking up at James in earnest. “Why are you here? Tell me the truth.”

James sighed and looked down at Harry. “Can I have my finger back?” he asked his son.

“Ames!” said Harry as he let go of his finger. James patted him on the head and wiped his finger off. He cuddled Harry to his chest so he wouldn't have to worry about him tumbling over the side of the couch, and then looked up at Lily.

“I came back for him,” said James, referring to the small boy in his arms. Lily's heart beat faster; was she really hearing this? He stared sincerely at her and Lily knew that he was going to talk to her--really talk to her. “I know that I was a jerk, and that I should have given everything a chance to sink in first, and I want to try and fix that. I also know that I've missed a lot already. But I don't want to miss any more. I may not be able to get you back”--Lily blushed and busied herself with a tendril of her hair--“but I should be able to take a part in Harry's life. He's half mine.”

Although Lily was ecstatic to hear that James was finally ready for Harry, she also felt that he deserved a bit of a reprimand for taking so long to do so.

“And what has made you finally come over?” she asked, sounding slightly condescending.

“Well…I just realized that you lived close, and I--”

“You knew where I was living before,” spat Lily, sounding awfully vicious toward the person she had been crying over earlier that day. “Why didn't you come back then?”

“I don't know!” he said, sounding angry as well, until it ebbed and he appeared to be considering something. “I guess…I thought that you wouldn't take me back….And now you have this John fellow… You don't realize how stupid I feel.” When he finished, he sounded very glum and remorseful. Lily's heart went out to him--if it had been her in that position, she would have been confused, too.

“I might have,” she said, her tone of voice gentler. “I missed you a lot,” she admitted. James's warm smile was very comforting. It felt like the old days. And he was even snuggling with Harry, who had fallen asleep.

“I missed you too, Lily,” he said softly. “And I still do. But I guess that doesn't matter now, does it?” He chuckled lightly to comfort himself.

“You weren't there,” she said, and at first her voice was soft and shy, but she grew more confident as she spoke on, glad to finally express her feelings. “John was there. He helped me raise Harry and he accepted me. You didn't want him.”

“I didn't mean that,” he admitted heavily, “I did want Harry. I wanted you too. I was just scared. My whole life had been decided for me. There was no way to go back and fix it. Just like there's no way to go back and fix what I've done. I just want to start over.”

“We can't start over, James,” said Lily. “I'm with someone else now.” `But I love you.'

“I meant start over with Harry,” he said, giving her an odd look. Lily reddened. `Shit. That was smooth. Now I sound conceited.'

“Is that alright?”

Lily tried to answer him, but a click from the bolt on the door and the appearance of John in the foyer distracted both of them. It wasn't until he had closed and locked the door that he noticed James sitting on the couch. He had the McFlurry and a cup of what Lily guessed was coffee in a drink holder in one hand and a small, brown bag in the other.

“You didn't tell me you were going to have a visitor, Lily,” he said both conversationally and surprised, walking over to them. He peeked downward at Harry sleeping in James's lap and felt a rush of competition and jealousy.

“I'll take Harry upstairs if you want,” he offered.

“He's fine here, thanks,” said James politely, gently stroking his son's messy hair. Lily admired how tender he was with the child. How could this man have thought himself unprepared for his son?

John nodded; Lily could tell that he wasn't liking this much. “I brought your food,” he said, turning to Lily. “Ice cream and a burger.” She accepted the bag and smiled at him.

James snickered. “She still eats ice cream for breakfast? My Lily hasn't changed a bit.”

The effect of his last sentence ensued mixed feelings. Honestly, he hadn't meant to. To him, she had always been `his Lily'. Lily was very flattered, of course, to hear that he still thought of her in this way, but she didn't want to upset John by giving off the impression that she had liked it. And John? Well, if looks could kill, he would have aimed a dirty glare right at James. But being the civil man he was, he chuckled politely and announced that he needed to go upstairs to change.

Lily started on her ice cream first. McFlurries had the tendency to melt quickly, as most soft-serve ice creams did, so it was best that one finished it soon. Which wasn't a problem. She always finished desserts relatively quickly. John had even remembered her favorite flavor; Oreo.

`This is so much better than waffles,' she conceded to herself, stuffing a large spoonful of the sweet dessert into her mouth.

`You know what would go perfectly with that?' asked the nasty voice.

`Hmm?'

`James.'

`For a voice inside of my head, you're awfully suggestive,' Lily told it bluntly.

`You're the one that wants it. I'm a part of you. Leave that other man. You've got all you need on the couch.'

`But John never left me.'

It seemed like the voice always left when she needed its advice the most. She looked back up at James, who had been staring meditatively at Harry.

“He's cute, isn't he?” asked James, staring admiringly down at his son.

“Yes,” Lily conceded warmly, setting her McFlurry cup on the coffee table to her right, “he looks just like you.”

James plunged out of his dream-like state with a devilish grin. “Does this mean that you think I'm cute?”

Lily pondered for a moment; she did not want to give James the satisfaction of knowing that Lily still felt for him quite yet. “No. I merely agreed with you that our son is cute. Then I said he looked like you. You're the one who made a connection between the two.”

James wore a challenging grin. Lily picked up her cup and amusedly scooped more ice cream into her mouth. “There had to be a connection,” he decided, “You said he was cute and that he looked just like me. That means that you think I'm cute.”

Obviously, she was not going to win this one. Lily snapped her fingers in mock defeat. “Damn you and your clever ways, James!” They both laughed.

John could hear them from the upstairs hallway. He sensed a glow in Lily. Something she had never shown with him. They were so happy just to be with each other, it made John wonder how they could have ever split up. He sat in the hall for the next few minutes to think, since he didn't really feel like either one of them had expected him to return.

What would happen if Lily chose James over him? He didn't want to lose her! She was his first love! The woman he had lost his virginity to! He had to get rid of this other man. James couldn't just suddenly decide that he wanted to take back Harry and Lily!

But Lily had warned him about her feelings for James before they had even begun dating….

`Then she shouldn't have gotten involved with me,' he thought. But then he felt bad. It wasn't really Lily's fault. She was just confused. She had been hurt by someone she loved and she had sought comfort.

`Why did she have to seek me? I love her, but I wasn't ready for this. You can't give someone something and then take it back!'

`Who said that he even came here to take Lily back?' asked another voice. `He had the boy in his lap. Perhaps he just wanted to see him.'

`Or maybe he just wants your girl, man,' interrupted another.

`Shut up,' said John angrily to the voice. As much as he didn't want to believe it, he knew that James hadn't only come here to see Harry. Because if he had, their attention would be focused more on the child than on each other.

John pictured again the happy glow that radiated from Lily. He wanted her to be happy. James made her extremely happy, which was something John never seemed to be able to accomplish. Sure he made her happy, and he had helped with the mending of her heart, but he had never made her that happy before. The happiness one feels when they visit old high school buddies, when you look back at memorable pictures in a photo album, and when you wrap yourself in a blanket from your youth. John simply could not compete with what James had with Lily. They had known each other from the moment they stepped onto Platform 9 and three-quarters (Literally, the moment for Lily. She had tripped over him, as Sirius had dared him to sit in front of the wall.) until their graduation in 7^th year. John had bunked in the same room as James all those years and had seen Lily on a regular basis, but didn't pursue her madly as James had.

One might think that would turn a girl off. Apparently not.

So he came to his conclusion: If James made Lily so happy, he was precisely who she was going to get.

- - -

(9:49 a.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

“So how did you find out that I was here?” Lily asked, trying to sound as casual as one can when they're finishing a burger in front of their ex. John, who was coming down the staircase, thanked whatever higher power was up there for her question. (He had been curious about how he found out since the moment he spotted him.)

“Well, I work for the Floo Network Authority and I couldn't help but notice a new addition to the list. And I had heard that you were with a man named `John Stroud,'” He answered, confirming her earlier suspicions. “Plus, I live close by. It wasn't too hard to figure out.”

John took a seat at the armchair across the room from the couch. “So,” he began, trying to find the nicest way to phrase his question, “Lily never told me why you're here.”

“I'm here to see Harry,” clarified James. He could tell that John was both suspicious and a tad jealous (“Or he might just be giving off that impression for show,” he reconsidered). Who wouldn't be? If he were in his position, he would want himself out of the house too. “We're going to set up a visiting schedule.”

John stole a quick glance over at Lily. She looked so happy. Of course, she had only been waiting for this for nearly a year. But it was obvious that there was another reason she was happy; James. And not just that he had come to see Harry. He had also come to see her.

All at once, he felt bad for his jealously and considered Lily's feelings. This was the man she truly loved. He had redeemed himself for his mistake and was even taking the next step by setting up schedules. John had to admit to himself that he had already lost them. And all of this could have been avoided if he would have ignored the sign up papers for Floo service.

“Lily?” he asked, “Would you come into the kitchen for a moment?”

At first she felt annoyed at him for requesting this. Her first assumption had been that he was jealous and wanted the other man to leave the room. When he explained to her his true intentions, however, she was very surprised.

“Go with James?” she parroted incredulously, whispering so that the aforementioned person would not hear. “But why? I thought you were jealous of him.”

He sighed. “Look, Lily. I know that you're in love with James. You told me that when we were just friends. And now look; he's come back to see his child. Isn't that what you wanted? You three can be a family again.”

“You make it sound so easy, John! But it would be hard on all four of us. I don't know if I could go back to living with James. I've grown so accustomed to you.”

“But you even said that you weren't truly happy without James! I saw the way you two are together. You can't hide that grin from anyone, Lily. Especially me,” John said, giving her a wink.

She smiled. “He does make me happy. And seeing him with Harry makes me even happier.”

“See?” he persisted, “just stay with him for a week. And if things go well, you can stay with him. If they don't, come back home. It's a trial separation. And if you don't like it there before the week is up, do try to stick it out. Everybody deserves a second chance, sweetie.”

“But what about you?” she asked with a frown, “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

As touched as this made him feel to hear this, he persisted. “Seeing you unhappy hurts me,” he said, “Sure I love being with you, but not if it would make you happier to be with someone else.”

Lily could feel tears taking shape in her eyes. John understood. Like he always had. She wrapped him tightly in a hug and kissed his neck.

“Thank you for understanding. And I do love you, John. If things don't work out, you can count on me coming home.”

He grinned at her. “I would be ecstatic if that happened, but I know you'll end up the way you've always wanted to.”

“Oh, I hope so,” she said nostalgically, “I just hope you'll be okay if it does.”

“I will be.”

`Why am I so concerned?' she abruptly asked herself. `We haven't even discussed this with James. He might not like the idea.'

`Of course he will,' assured the voice. `You heard him. He wants you back. But would you have him?'

`I…I don't know,' she answered uncertainly. `He didn't come after me. He didn't comfort me or help me at all. Why do I even like this man?'

`Because you know he has a good heart. And that he didn't do any of it on purpose.'

`I know.'

They re-entered the living room and Lily led the way back over to James. She sat back down on the couch and gave John a “you do it” kind of look. James looked expectantly at each of them in turn, and when he was given no reply, he asked,

“Is there something you two need to tell me?”

Lily cleared her throat. John gave her an impatient look, but cleared his own throat--to begin speech rather than to annoy people--and said, “Lily and I had an idea”--Lily stepped on his foot--”alright I had an idea.” Harry yawned and shifted position slightly as James uncrossed his legs. “Since I know how much Lily misses you, I wanted her to try spending a bit of time with you. Just the three of you. Lily and Harry can go to your house for a week and if things work out, they'll stay. But if they don't, she can come back home. Either way, it works out for her.”

James felt a flutter of hope in his chest. He might get Lily back! And Harry! But at the same time, he didn't want John to be hurt. It wasn't his fault that Lily wasn't in love with him. Or that he would grieve for her. James knew he was a good person because despite his personal feelings for Lily, he was willing to give her up to someone else just so she could be happy. He felt himself gathering admiration for him.

“Well, Lily?” asked James, beseeching approval. “Are you up for it? A whole week with me?” There was something in his eyes that made Lily smile. He looked mischievous, serious, and hopeful all at once. Just like he always had.

“You bet I am, Potter,” she said with a challenging grin.

: : :

-->

New Author's Note: Okay, you guys - I feel really dumb about not posting the rest of this story on Portkey until now. You know why? It's been done for YEARS. Yeah, sorry about that. I posted a new chapter of one of my other stories and I discovered this little clerical error of mine.

Old Author's Note: I am very excited about this chapter. It adds on to the clue I put in my comments to the reviewers. Let's just see if you're clever enough to find it, shall we? And to pick out the next clue in this chapter. I look forward to your reviews!

And I am trying hard not to feel offended at a comment someone made. John is not gay. I originally intended to do a scene where his dark side comes out and he goes all weird on James. But it was so uncharacteristic that I decided against it. All the times you all see “I just want her to be happy” is him trying to convince himself that this is what he actually wants. Well, let me clue you in. HE IS LYING TO HIMSELF. Who would want to give up their girlfriend? There is a lot of private grieving on John's part that I haven't decided if I want to publicize. But rest assured, he is not as much of a push-over as he comes off as.

Oh, and I've found a flaw; I said it was December. Harry's supposed to be 11 months old. His birthday would have to be in January for that to work. Damn.

As for the `Floo Network Authority' job, James works two jobs, as the Floo Network one doesn't require much (on most days, anyway), and he rarely gets called in for his Auror one. They leave the daily basis work to the Aurors-in-training rather than the ones who've been around a while. But you won't see him work much. He has a very odd schedule and only goes into the office about once or twice a week. Mostly due to the fact that he's rich (loads of inheritance money he received on his 18^th birthday) and doesn't really need to work. Then there's just the fact that Lily's over and he wants to spend as much time with her as he can.

Dedications: ….Well, you know me. Of course there are more.

My Muse: She is wonderful in supplying even more ideas for this story.

Chapter 4: Comforting and Day One

(12:42 a.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

As Lily laid in her bed that night beside a sleeping John, she felt two different, opposite emotions relating to the deal she had just made. On one hand, she felt her insides squirming with anticipation of James's arrival tomorrow. She wanted to go with him. To try and mend their mistakes. They both knew that they could easily make it work.

But on the other hand, she was so used to her life with John and Harry. It would feel so odd to not have him around anymore. John was always there when he needed her; and if he wasn't, he was always a phone call away. (Yes, John has been Muggle-ized by Lily. She bought him a cell phone. And I don't care if they didn't have them in the early `80s. They do now.) And James? Before they had split up, Lily would be surprised if he were a room away. They spent so much time together.

She and John spent more time apart. He worked full-time and would always stop in if he was called. Lily didn't like that. She liked being with him. He had given up his part-time position for a better paying full-time one three months ago. It was why they had moved to Godric's Hollow in the first place. And when she had been living with James, he was rarely called in to work (an Auror) and she had, at the time, been on maternity leave from the same position.

Now she was blissfully unemployed. There was no need for her to have a job. John made all of the money they required. It was also better for Harry to grow up around her rather than a baby sitter.

She turned to look at John, propping her self up with her arm, bended so she supported her head. He looked so peaceful as he slept; his face was smooth and undisturbed, his soft bangs cast a shadow on his forehead in the dim light, and if she looked hard enough, it almost seemed like he was smiling. Not a full fledged smile, just around the edges of his lips. Lily smiled back and gently touched his cheek. His smile grew wider.

“You were supposed to be asleep!” Lily rebuked playfully, swatting his chest.

“I couldn't sleep. I knew you were awake. And you were thinking about tomorrow.”

She snuggled up to him and he put his arm around her back. “I was. But I'm tired now.”

“Oh,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice, “I guess I can't give you your going away present, then.”

“You got me a present?” she asked, taken aback, and turned around to lean on his chest so she could look him in the eyes. “When did you have the time?”

“Well, it's…sort of a present,” he explained with an odd grin. “I just…wanted to be with you one last time. Before I lose you.”

She kissed his forehead. “You're not going to lose me. You can stop by to see Harry and me whenever you want. Unless the blinds are shut.” She laughed to assure him that she was joking. “And I might not even stay. Neither one of us knows how the week will go.”

“Yeah, I know.” Lily could tell that he was dubious of this.

“But I'd be happy to share one last time with you,” she said, nuzzling under his chin with her curly red head.

“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised and pleased, “Even if there's a possibility you'll get back with James?”

“Yes,” she said resolutely. “Because for tonight, I'm with you.”

- - -

She was walking down a darkened alley, Harry clutched tightly in her arms, and felt the wet road beneath her feet. It consisted of hundreds of differently shaped bricks; some even had carved script on them telling who the donators were that paid for the road. She averted her attention to her higher surroundings: on her left side, a long row of towering buildings stooped over her, and when she looked more closely, she could see that they were townhouses. To her right, adjacent to the paved sidewalk was an equally lengthy wooden fence. Even in the darkness it looked worn and dirty. There were a few holes poked through it and two lazy cats lounged on its top. How they managed this without falling off, Lily nor the world may never know.

Lily walked farther up the road, minding her feet as she watched for protruding bricks. Harry ignored all of her attempts to play with him along their walk and remained focused ahead. She looked down the road; in the distance, she could see that it forked. Picking up her pace, she reached it in no time. There was no sign at the fork giving directions, as there should have been, so Lily peered down each path in turn.

The first one had someone standing at the end of it. He or she was about a hundred feet off. When she squinted, she could make out the grinning face of John. He stood there with his hands in his jacket pockets, rocking patiently on his feet and even humming a cheerful tune. When he saw Lily, he waved.

She shifted a few feet to the right and looked down the second path. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who was waiting for her at this one. Clad in the same outfit she had seen him in just yesterday, James looked back at her. He gave her a cheerful smile and a wave. She stepped farther backwards so that she could see them both at the same time. John looked a bit more eager than he had before and James was staring expectantly at her.

“Lily!” “Are you coming?”

She bit her bottom lip. Which path? Surely she should go to John. Right?

`One last time.' Echoed in her head.

Lily thought. `Last. He said last time. That means…no more.'

`So go with James,' the nasty voice coaxed.

`But John,' she said concernedly, `he'll be all alone.'

`Not for long!' the voice squealed in delight before promptly leaving.

“What does that mean!?” Lily yelled, turning in a full circle to look for any sight of the voice. “Don't you hurt John!”

Then another thought occurred to her. `Had he been cheating?'

“Come on, Lily!” “Let's go!”

Their calls were becoming more anxious now. Maybe they thought something was wrong.

“I'm fine!” she called, and noticed that her echoes sounded shrill and scared.

“Lily!” “Lily!” They called simultaneously. It echoed over and over.

“Stop!” she yelled, once the noise became too loud and frequent for her to handle, switching Harry to her right arm and covering an ear with her left. “Stop calling me!”

“Lily!”

“Stop!”

“Lily!”

“STOP!” Her head was pounding and her body was dripping with sweat. She thrashed about, trying to run far away from the noise, and found that she could barely move. Something was holding her back. She shut her eyes against the frustration of being confined and felt an odd sensation in her arms and legs.

“Lily!” This time, the call was less insistent. It was gentle and soothing. Her eyes shot open and she was met with the blurry figure of James. Startled, she scooted back to the side of the bed nearest the wall and rested her back up against it. She was tangled in her bed sheets.

“I've gone blind!” But when she blinked again she realized how silly she was being. Her surroundings were not a darkened alley but her own bedroom. Everything was still the same as last night; her dresser was littered with jewelry, its mirror, and letters, the closet door was still shut, the floor clean with a small pile of shoes at the foot of the bed, and the bookcase was as tidy as ever. The only thing missing was John. James was here instead.

“Are you okay?” he asked uncertainly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “We've been trying to wake you up for ten minutes.”

“We?” she echoed, looking around the room. “Who's `we'? You got a toad in your pocket?”

Ignoring her comment, he said, “John and me. He gave up about 4 minutes ago and went to work. He said to tell you goodbye and that a group of kids came in for their tests and he had to leave. He's a strange bloke, you know,” James commented thoughtfully, “I asked him to come for dinner and he said no. Weird. Thought he might like to see you and Harry.”

Lily's cheeks were burning uncomfortably and she took the opportunity to wipe the sweat off of her forehead. “Maybe he's got plans,” she suggested evasively.

James cocked an eyebrow. He knew her too well. “Plans, eh? Of what kind? Anything like that vivid dream you were having just then?” He smirked, putting emphasis on the word `vivid'.

Lily smacked his shoulder. “It wasn't that kind of vivid, you git. It was just…confusing.”

James folded his arms and rested them on his arched knees, gazing at her inquiringly. “Confusing? How so?”

“Can we talk about it some other time?” she implored.

“Sure.”

“Is Harry ready to go?” she asked distractedly, disentangling her feet from the bedspread.

“Er…not quite,” he exaggerated. Lily gave him a look and his shoulders sagged in defeat. “Alright, he's not even up yet. But he will be. I'll get him ready while you're getting ready. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, pushing off of his knee to hop off of the bed. “Now out!”

- - -

It had taken around thirty minutes to get all three of them ready and over to James's house eight blocks over on Maple Oak Lane. Harry had cooperated very well that morning due to the fact that he woken up to see that it wasn't his mother or John that was there, but James. And Harry liked James. After squealing his name excitedly several times, he had let James change him and put his day clothes on. He even went downstairs and made him a bottle (Lily kept bottles in the fridge. Easy to warm up.), which made Lily very proud to see.

`He finally knows what he's doing. And he does it well. Harry loves him.'

“Wow,” she said, genuinely impressed as she entered the kitchen. “Where'd you learn how to take care of a baby?” (She was impressed that he knew what to do, but had to slip in her fair share of teasing. It wasn't, after all, that hard to change a child, dress them, and warm up some milk. But she was pleased all the same.)

James shrugged, embarrassed at her praise. “I just…I've done some reading.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. There're a lot of…erm…helpful books in the library.”

Lily uttered a mock gasp. “James Potter stepped foot in a library? Willingly?”

He glared at her; the same expression Harry gave her when he was annoyed. “Yes. It was actually kind of fun.”

Lily mouthed the word `wow'. “Amazing. James had fun in a library.”

“You know,” he said, “If I didn't love you, I wouldn't love you right now.” He smiled at her.

She went very red and little else had been said until they reached his house.

- - -

(9:45a.m. 1457 Maple Oak Lane. Godric's Hollow.)

When they finally reached James's house, Lily was reminded of how massive it was. And expensive. The front door was shiny mahogany wood with a gold plated door handle and matching lion-shaped knocker. She peered through its window as James unlocked the door and saw the distorted shape of a grand room; this place obviously had a lot of concealing charms on it. It looked much smaller from the outside. Lily snickered to herself at the thought; James had never been good at charms.

`I wonder who charmed it for him?'

He pushed the door open and it bumped the wall as it swung backwards. Harry squealed in excitement when he saw the large room before them; on the right, there was a staircase, and to the left, the dining room that Lily knew led straight to the kitchen. Further ahead was the living room, and to the right past the staircase lay the “extra-curricular” room, as she had formerly nicknamed it. Lily grabbed the handle of Harry's carrier and walked into the house. A lovely Persian carpet was beneath them, giving a nice touch to the hard wood floors below. There was a thin wooden table along the staircase's wall with three framed pictures and a full-length table runner below them.

When they walked further down the hall, she peeked into the dining room and saw that the table had a vase of lilies as a centerpiece, two candles on either side of the vase, and its own, longer table runner.

She looked back at him, slightly impressed. He smiled. “Do you like it? I fixed everything just for you.”

A tingling feeling swept through her. “I love it,” she said breathlessly.

“Then you'll love this,” he said eagerly, taking her hand, “come on.” He took them up the long flight of stairs and down the hallway to the last of the four bedrooms, pausing outside the door. Turning to face her, he said, “Close your eyes. I want it to be a surprise.”

She obliged him and heard him open the door after a few seconds. He led her in carefully, moving her in front of him. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath.

“Open your eyes.”

Lily opened them and a rush of color met her eyes. She was standing in the room they had used as a catch-all for their boxes and bags when they had first moved in. The last time she had seen it, it had been piled with towers of boxes and rows of large bags of clothing and knick-knacks. But now it was clean. And totally unrecognizable; the rush of color she had seen was the walls that had been muraled with characters from `Winnie the Pooh.' (James had always been an artist.) There was a crib (also decorated with Winnie the Pooh memorabilia) and a changing table against the back wall, along with a painted side table and a lamp. The wall on their right was bare except for paintings, and the one on their left held the closet. James had also installed several shelves in random locations around the room on which he placed books, stuffed animals, and decorative toys. There was even a red and yellow toy box.

Lily turned around and grinned widely at James, who started to grin back. “So…you like it?”

Surprising herself with her audacity, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “It's wonderful, James! When did you do this?” She pulled back and looked at him.

“A couple weeks ago. I had been planning on coming to see you about Harry for a while. But,” he added, “the things downstairs were done last night. I had no idea you would be coming over when I went to visit yesterday.”

“Well, I love it all,” she said, leaning back against him. His arms encircled her waist. “How about you, Harry?” she asked, addressing the baby in the carrier, “do you like your new room?”

He giggled in excitement.

- - -

(2:12 p.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

John slumped down on the couch in the living room and stared blankly up at the ceiling. It had taken those four children three hours to complete their written exams and forty-five minutes for their physical ones. And because it was Sunday and he was the supervisor, he had been the only one working in his department today. Then traffic had been horrible on the way back (He preferred driving in) and he'd been stuck in a jam. Now he was beat.

`I can almost hear Lily stirring in our bedroom. Any minute she'd be down here to greet me. And maybe even snuggle.'

But she wouldn't be. Lily was gone. She was eight blocks away with Harry and James. John couldn't feel too depressed, though. After all, he had gotten his last night with Lily and the promise that she'd be there at the end of the week with Harry, regardless of whether she was remaining at Maple Oak or not, to say goodbye. And to arrange a schedule for John to come see Harry. If, in fact, she was staying.

`I want her to stay. Right? She's happy there. That's what I want. I want her to be happy.'

`Who are you kidding?' asked a voice unexpectedly. `You want Lily back. Admit it.'

`I…I know I do,' he admitted. `But I also want her to be happy. You know I can't do what James does.'

`But you still want her back,' insisted the voice.

`I know.'

As much as John wanted Lily to be happy, he wanted to be happy as well.

And right now, he wasn't feeling very happy.

- - -

(7:36 p.m. 1457 Maple Oak Lane. Godric's Hollow.)

Lily had had a wonderful day. They'd spent all of their time indoors; talking and catching up with each other's lives, chatting and laughing about the old days, and playing with Harry. Then it was dinner time. James had transfigured one of the dining room chairs into a lovely high chair for Harry when he had embarrassingly realized that he had forgotten to purchase one. Lily lit the candles (as she was better in Charms than he was), and did the spoon trick for Harry again. He loved it. And he seemed to love James and his house. He had only asked about John once the entire day and Lily told him that they would go to see him next Sunday.

A lot of help that is to Harry.

The best part of the meal was not the flowers, the candles, or even the lovely table runner; James had remembered to cook her favorite food. Pasta. And lots of it. He had also remembered that she preferred oil and garlic as a topping rather than sauce. They even chopped up a few noodles for Harry to try. And he loved anything the adults did.

Halfway through the meal, James broke the silence. “Do you like your food? You still like garlic and oil, right?” He sounded very anxious.

“Yeah. It's great, James,” she said earnestly, “But you know, everything doesn't have to be perfect.” At his uneasy expression, she added,

“But it was.”

- - -

(8:23 p.m. 1457 Maple Oak Lane. Godric's Hollow.)

Lily was washing dishes in her old kitchen. Everything was exactly as she remembered it. The dish rack was on the left, the breakfast bar in front of the sink, the refrigerator was behind her and the stove to her right. And the microwave was still to the right of the refrigerator, near where they kept the bread box and the spices.

She had offered to do the dishes to give James and Harry some alone time. All day it had been the three of them and she wanted to give them an opportunity to bond. Just the men. As she scrubbed the last dish she noticed that the giggles and faint mumbling that had been coming from the nearby living room had ceased. She stuck the dish onto the dish rack and tiptoed the long way out of the kitchen; the creaky door might have disturbed them.

When she rounded the corner and stepped into the living room, an adorable sight met her eyes; they were both asleep on the couch, Harry tucked into the crook of his father's arm. One of Harry's arms had drifted over to James's chest. Their messy black hair was--well, messy, and James had removed his glasses. They looked nearly identical. Having their eyes closed helped.

`Awwwwww.'

She nipped back upstairs (as quietly as she could, being excited and all) and into the bedroom she and James were sharing to get her Polaroid camera.

“Grr,” she mumbled as she dug through the bag. She finally found it at the bottom and raced back down the steps and into the living room once again.

`Good. They haven't moved.'

A quick aim and click of the lens and a small, square, gray picture slid out of the chute. She removed it, touching only the white edge, and gently sat both her camera and the picture down on the table, making sure it would face James when it dried. His glasses were placed in front of it so that he couldn't miss it.

Then she curled up with him.

: : :

-->

Author's Note: I had to do a lot of research for this chapter. I knew NOTHING about allergic reactions, lactose intolerance, Cows' Milk Allergy, or treatment of allergic reactions. Thank the Lord for my friends at the Gaian Parents Guild! I love them all!

Dedications: I'll stop one day.

My Muse: She put me ahead of schedule.

GPG Members--IllianaGalean, lunashock, Nopenname, Graceangel, the dancing kitten, and Rain Yupa (for his bit on the fetus development). You were all very helpful! My chapter would have been highly inaccurate without your help.

Chapter 5: Allergies on Day Two

(9:03 a.m. 1457 Maple Oak Lane. Godric's Hollow.)

When Lily woke up the next morning, she found herself alone on the couch. The blanket she had covered them with last night had somehow found its way to the floor and the warmth that it and James had provided was gone. She struggled into a sitting position, rubbed her eyes, and looked around the room. It was so clean, just as she had always kept it back when both she and James had lived here full time. The house probably stayed so clean because he was the only one living in it. Lily remembered his dorm room back at Hogwarts; it had always been so messy. Clothes had been pitched everywhere, trunks open, leaking schoolbooks and supplies, not to mention the odor. He had not been assigned the cleanest of roommates, nor was he very tidy himself. She was very glad this had changed about him over the years.

'James and Harry must be upstairs,' she thought, yawning. 'Maybe I'll sleep for a bit longer.'

Scooping the blanket from off the floor, she draped herself in it and laid down on the throw pillow. She closed her eyes and pictured in her mind the adorable sight from the previous evening.

'They're so cute together. I hope I have many more photo opportunities like that one.'

She had nearly drifted off to sleep when she heard the pounding of footsteps on the staircase and the shuffle of feet against the floor as someone--presumably James--ran into the living room. Lily kept her eyes shut as the noise grew closer, but could ignore it no longer once she was roughly shaken on the shoulders.

"Lily!" he hissed, "Wake up!" She groaned and sat up. And she would have told him off for disturbing her, too, if his expression hadn't been so serious.

"What is it?" she asked, pitching the blanket aside and scrambling hurriedly to her feet. "Where's Harry?"

"Come here!" he said, frightened, grabbing her arm. "Something's wrong!"

They rushed out of the living room, up the stairs, and into she and James's room, where Harry was laying on his back in his bassinet. Lily gasped when she saw him; his arms, legs, and face were covered in a red rash and his breathing was wheezy. She picked him up and cradled him, turning around to glare at James.

"What did you do?!"

"I just…he was fine…I gave him his bottle," he stammered, confused and nervous.

"Y-you what?"

"I just gave him some milk!"

"Cows' milk?" she asked, sounding fearful. James was very confused.

"Yes," he said tentatively, "isn't he old enough for it now?"

"You IDIOT!"

"I was trying to help!"

"HE'S ALLERGIC TO COWS' MILK!" Harry began to cry at his mother's yells, worsening his breathing. Lily muttered soothing words to him and rubbed in circles on his stomach to calm him down.

"Then why were there bottles in the fridge yesterday?!"

"Because I pump milk! It makes it easier," she said in a softer tone, feigning serenity, trying to stop Harry from crying.

"Oh," he sounded embarrassed and remorseful. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I didn't know. He'll be all right, won't he?"

"I--I don't know," she said worriedly, glancing down at her son, "How much did you give him?"

"The…the whole bottle."

"No. You didn't…." She sat down on the bed and cuddled Harry close, lowering her head so that her hair draped in front of her face. She kissed his forehead.

James lowered his head shamefully. "I was just trying to help…."

"You can't give him dairy products," she explained in a grim tone. "He's got Cows' Milk Allergy . It's why I had you give him chopped up pasta and cereal last night," she said, "I had ice cream the day before and my milk would have made him sick. I didn't pump it last night."

James nodded. "How can we make him better?"

"We can't," said Lily sadly, lifting her head and looking him in the eyes, "he's going to get very bad. We'll need to take him to the hospital."

"He…he's going to what?" James's heart began to beat very quickly. "How do you know?!"

"The last time he was given cows' milk, he got sick. The doctor told me that a second encounter with it before he has a chance to outgrow his intolerance--if he does, I outgrew mine--would trigger Anaphylaxis."

"Ana-what?" Lily was about to answer him when Harry began to cough violently. James shuddered.

"We have to go!" Lily gathered Harry more securely in her arms, stood up and hurried out of the room. He heard the stomps of her footsteps all the way down the staircase and the opening and closing of the front door. She was obviously on her way to Mungos. James sank down on the bed and supported his forehead with his palms. His eyes began to water.

'I've really screwed up this time,' he thought glumly, 'Lily will probably leave as soon as Harry's better. I've lost them again.'

'Maybe not,' said a voice, 'She'll need you now. Her son is sick. Go to the hospital.'

'What if he dies? I can't bear to watch it.'

'Cows' Milk Allergy isn't fatal,' the voice pointed out. 'Now go. She'll probably get there very soon.'

James walked over to the big, curtained window in the front of the room and looked out at the driveway. His car was gone. Lily had taken it to drive into London to where the Wizard hospital, St. Mungos, was located.

'I can't Apparate,' he thought, annoyed, 'because Muggles' shops are all around Mungos.' Someone would be bound to see and he would be in loads of trouble. 'There's always the underground.'

- - -

Twenty minutes, a brief jog, a hop over the turnstile, and a dodge of security later, he was sitting in a rickety underground train rushing toward the center of London.

'The one time I forget my money,' he thought to himself, feeling stupid and shaking his head in dismay of himself.

He kept glancing worriedly over his shoulder in case the security guards were on the look-out for a young, black-haired man with glasses.

He twiddled his thumbs idly as he thought of what Lily must be going through right now; the doctors had probably hooked Harry up to every contraption under the sun, as well as drugged him up with several types of medication and possibly issued a vaccination or two. Just the thought made him quiver; he had always hated hospitals.

But on the brighter side, Harry might have reached medical care before his reactions worsened in severity. He might enter the lobby of St. Mungos to see Lily and Harry waiting for him, with perhaps even a smile or a wave. Lily would tell him that she was sorry for yelling at him and that Harry was okay. They would go home and pretend that none of it had happened….

He lurched forward slightly as the train came to a sudden halt. With a beep, the intercom came on and a smooth, feminine voice said, "London Towne Square. Stop 2. All passengers please exit to the right of the platform. Have a nice day."

The shuffling of feet ensued and James rose from his chair. He brushed past people without bothering to excuse himself as he hurried to exit both the train and the platform.

'Surely where I'm going is more important.'

He rode the escalator to the top of the platform and ran out into the street, turning left. The crowd was thick with holiday shoppers and he rustled many bags and purses as he rushed past.

"Watch where you're going!" yelled one grumpy old man as James trampled upon his foot.

He didn't look back. Two shops ahead lay Purge and Dowse Ltd., the large, old-fashioned red-brick building that held the Wizard hospital. It was a very shabby, miserable place that had once been a Ventriloquist's haven. He hopped over the wooden railing and landed with a clop of his shoes on the pavement. Looking a horribly dressed, withered dummy in the eyes, he mumbled, "I'm here to see my son."

It blinked. "Name?" rasped the unattractive dummy. James was surprised; he had been expecting a more high-pitched tone of voice, judging by its appearance.

"Harry Potter. He'll be with his mother, Lily Po--Evans."

The ugly dummy nodded its head and gestured for him to come through the panel of glass. He glanced over his shoulder at the bustling crowd; no one was paying him any mind. He stepped forward through the cold, water-like glass and emerged no more than a second later in a teeming lobby of wizards.

'There're more people than the last time I was here,' he observed, glancing around at the benches of wounded people. 'Must be more attacks the Ministry's hiding.'

The Healers were perusing the rows of injured patients with clipboards, taking notes on their symptoms. Through the crowd, he could see a fiery red head making its way toward him. Out of the line nearest him emerged Lily. He was nearly knocked off of his feet as she collided with him, wrapping her arms securely around his midriff.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned, as he rubbed her back.

She looked up at him with teary eyes. "Where were you?" she whispered shrilly.

"Well, you took my car," said James, sounding facetiously annoyed, "I had to take the train." Lily let go of him and they began to move further in, excusing themselves as they parted the crowd. "And then I forgot my money," he added conversationally, "and I had to jump the turnstile. I nearly got caught by security."

Lily gave him an all too familiar look. "If you hadn't done that for such a good cause, I would turn you in."

James grinned sheepishly. "You know you wouldn't. But on a more serious note, how is Harry? Please tell me he'll be alright."

Lily let her teasing smile fade and with it, a great burden was dropped upon James; it couldn't be good news. "He's in shock," she said, white faced with fear. "He lost consciousness."

"He…what?" James suddenly became immune to all of the sounds coming from the people in the lobby around him except for Lily. None of them mattered. Only what she had to tell him did. He had made a mistake and now his son was suffering. It had to be fixed.

"He's unconscious," Lily repeated. "And the Healer said his throat was swelling and his blood pressure has dropped some."

"Is it getting any better?" They had turned down a hallway and were passing a long row of doors with numbers in the early 600s. Three sconces illuminated the plain white walls and equally bland tiles. At the end of the hall was a cushioned bench.

"I don't know," she answered, "They wouldn't let me stay in the room with him. Part of me is glad for that, because I don't want to see him suffer, but I do want to know what's going on." She drooped down to the bench, James following suit. Lily covered her face with her hands and after about a half a minute, her shoulders began to shake and her upper body slouched down toward her knees. James put his arms around her and pulled her close. She sniffled into his shirt, burying her face within its soft fabric.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as she continued to cry. He paused for a moment to give her time to quiet down. "I really thought I was helping by feeding him. I wanted to let you sleep."

No answer. Lily just continued to cry. He patted her consolingly on her back.

"Please don't hate me, Lily. You have every right to be mad at me, but if you said that you hated me I don't think I could bear it. Do keep any such thoughts to yourself." She began to calm down slightly. James only heard the sound of her shaky breaths and sniffling as she tried to clear up her nose. He kissed the top of her head. "He'll be okay, love, I know he will. Just get some sleep. I'll wake you up when I hear word from the Healers, okay?"

Her response was a soft moan and the snuggling of her head in the crook of his arm. It may not have been much, but it comforted him. He was not hated.

- - -

(10:16 a.m. St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. London.)

During the course of Lily's nap, James had drifted off to sleep himself for fifteen minutes or so, using the back wall for support. He was aiming for a bit of a longer nap, but a brightly clad Healer shook him awake and ruined all of those chances.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked uncertainly. She was a middle-aged blonde witch with a kind, intelligent face and warm, yet now concerned, eyes. James felt like he could trust her.

"Yes."

"Is the patient in ward 615 a relation of yours?"

Lily hadn't told him what ward Harry was in. He had no idea if that was him or not. "If you mean Harry Potter, then yes, he is my son."

The witch nodded and consulted the square, brown clipboard in her right hand. "Well, it seems that Harry has had a problem with this before"--James nodded, going by Lily's story--"and his second encounter has triggered Anaphylaxis."

'Oh great,' thought James sardonically. 'It's that big word I know nothing about again.'

"What is Anaphylaxis?" he questioned, sounding politely curious.

The nurse gave him a strange look. A look that James decided meant 'You should know! He's your son. Weren't you there last time?' But she explained nonetheless. "It's a severe allergic reaction. It can affect several areas of the body at once, and in rare cases it can be fatal within minutes." James's face must have been chalk white with fear because she added, with a small chuckle, "But this was not the case with your son. He has recovered from unconsciousness and both you and your wife may go in to see him." She gestured to ward 615, which had been left ajar, seemingly by the blonde Healer herself.

James nodded, a wide grin on his face. He was happy (for his own personal reasons) that the woman had called Lily his wife, but he was even happier to hear that Harry was awake and well. His heart beat faster in his chest with excitement. He could jump up and down. He could sing. He could run down the hall screaming jovially. All of which he decided against, as he had already had enough negative public encounters that day to go on with.

"Lily!" he hissed excitedly, gently shaking her shoulders. "Lily! Wake up! Guess what!"

She moaned in an annoyed manner, as she always did when she was woken up. "What?" she mumbled groggily, wiping her eyes and yawning. She made little waking up noises as closed her eyes and started to lay her head back on his chest.

"Harry's awake!"

"He is?" Lily sat up at once and stared at him with an expression of mingled surprise and joy. "Are we allowed in to see him?"

"Yes," said James, shifting a bit to give her the subtle hint that he wanted to go as soon as possible. She obviously got it because she was on her feet in a snap, touching his arm for comfort and they walked two doors down to ward 615.

The heavy ward door creaked as James pushed it forward. They both gasped at the sight of their son, and Lily grabbed James's wrist tightly out of instinct. James had been right when he said he would be hooked up to every contraption under the sun; he had an IV in his foot, oxygen tubes up his nose, and a Healer was leaning on the bed taking his blood pressure.

Once she finished, she walked over to James and Lily. "His blood pressure is rising back to normal and in about a half hour we can remove the tubes." She glanced over at Harry, who was not being very active. He looked tired and sick; his rash still showed on his legs, and they assumed it was still on his arms, as he was wearing a long-sleeved one-piece, and they weren't visible. "If you're going to visit with him, please don't pick him up or encourage talking. That is, if he can."

Lily nodded; it seemed to be all she could do as she watched her baby lay on the hospital bed. James put an arm around her and said thank you to the doctor. A moment later, she had exited the room and shut the ward door. Tentatively, they made their way over to his bed and took a space on either side of him. Lily smoothed his silky black hair away from his forehead and kissed it.

"My poor baby. I hope it doesn't hurt to have those tubes in you," she said sadly. Harry's lower lip quivered and he stretched his arms out toward her. "No, sweetie. Mommy can't hold you." His eyes filled with tears and he let out a cracked whine; his throat was probably dry. "I-I'm sorry, Harry." Tears of her own slipped out of her eyes and tumbled from her cheeks to the bed below. She bent her head low, leaning her forehead in her hand, and her hair fell in a curtain in front of her face. James gave her a quick pat her on the back and then looked down at Harry.

The boy grabbed his finger as he usually did, but in a rather half-hearted and tired way. "Ames," he said weakly.

"Shh," whispered James. "Don't talk. You need to go to sleep. Nap time, Harry."

Harry made a whimpering noise not unlike the ones emitting from Lily at the moment. But when James gave him a stern look, he cuddled into his pillow and closed his tired eyes. James looked back at Lily, who, despite the fact that her hair was still draped across her face, was wiping her eyes and seemed to be calming down.

"Lil," he whispered. She looked at him. "Get some sleep. We all need sleep."

His response was a nod and a slight shake of the bed as Lily adjusted herself. He followed his family's example and laid down as well.

- - -

(11:12 a.m. Ward 615. St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. London.)

"Sir," said a distant voice. "Sir!" James mumbled a string of incoherent words as he sat up. His glasses were askew and had left an imprint on his cheek. He straightened them. The Healer who had taken Harry's blood pressure was standing at the edge of the bed, glaring down at him.

"This is against hospital policy!" she said, not bothering to keep her voice down, and James noticed Harry shift slightly.

"Be quiet!" he snapped, surprising the woman. "Can't you that they're trying to sleep?" He indicated Harry and Lily. The Healer glared at James, hands on her hips, but she lowered her voice.

"I came in thirty minutes ago to remove his tubes," she said as she extended her hand towards Harry. James glanced at him and noticed that they were missing; he seemed happier even in his sleep. "He's going to be fine, but we're keeping him over night to run some tests and be sure he doesn't have a relapse of some sort."

"Alright," he said. A question popped into his mind as the woman was beginning to head towards the door. "Wait!" he hissed, "I need to ask you something!"

"What?"

"Can you tell me about Anaphylaxis?"

"You mean you don't know what it is by now?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Harry's records stated that he had early stages of Anaphylaxis during his last encounter with Cows' Milk."

"I wasn't there," he said regretfully. "Lily and I weren't together then."

She glanced from Harry to James, comparing them, and he thought she was going to ask him if he was his biological son. But apparently their similar looks were enough for her. She nodded. "Come with me, Mr. Potter," she said, "I have an information pamphlet on Anaphylaxis in my office."

- - -

(11:23 a.m. The fabric chair. Ward 615. St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. London.)

James stared down at the thin information packet the Healer had supplied him with. The cover depicted a smiling child of around seven or eight years old holding a small stick with a gray end.

'That has to be the Epi-Pen she was talking about,' he recalled.

A smaller picture in the upper right hand corner showed an array of food items such as shellfish, peanuts, milk, eggs, and fish. The title that stretched across the top of the page read "Anaphylaxis" in big, green, block letters. He flipped open the first page and read the long column of information:

The greatest danger in food allergy comes from anaphylaxis, a violent allergic reaction involving a number of parts of the body simultaneously. Like less serious allergic reactions, anaphylaxis usually occurs after a person is exposed to an allergen to which he or she was sensitized by previous exposure (that is, it does not usually occur the first time a person eats a particular food). Although any food can trigger anaphylaxis (also known as anaphylactic shock), peanuts, tree nuts, shellfish, milk, eggs, and fish are the most common culprits. As little as one-fifth to one-five-thousandth of a teaspoon of the offending food has caused death.

Anaphylaxis can produce severe symptoms in as little as 5 to 15 minutes, although life-threatening reactions may progress over hours. Signs of such a reaction include: difficulty breathing, feeling of impending doom, swelling of the mouth and throat, a drop in blood pressure, and loss of consciousness. The sooner that anaphylaxis is treated, the greater the person's chance of surviving. The person should be taken to a hospital emergency room, even if symptoms seem to subside on their own.

There is no specific test to predict the likelihood of anaphylaxis, although allergy testing may help determine what a person may be allergic to and provide some guidance as to the severity of the allergy. Experts advise people who are susceptible to anaphylaxis to carry medication, such as injectable epinephrine, with them at all times, and to check the medicine's expiration date regularly. Doctors can instruct patients with allergies on how to self-administer epinephrine. Such prompt treatment can be crucial to survival.

Injectable epinephrine is a synthetic version of a naturally occurring hormone also known as adrenaline. For treatment of an anaphylactic reaction, it is injected directly into a thigh muscle or vein. It works directly on the cardiovascular and respiratory systems, causing rapid constriction of blood vessels, reversing throat swelling, relaxing lung muscles to improve breathing, and stimulating the heartbeat.

Epinephrine designed for emergency home use comes in two forms: a traditional needle and syringe kit known as Ana-Kit, or an automatic injector system known as Epi-Pen. Epi-Pen's automatic injector design, originally developed for use by military personnel to deliver antidotes for nerve gas, is described by some as "a fat pen." The patient removes the safety cap and pushes the automatic injector tip against the outer thigh until the unit activates. The patient holds the "pen" in place for several seconds, then throws it away.

While Epi-Pen delivers one pre-measured dosage, the Ana-Kit provides two doses. Which system a patient uses is a decision to be made by the doctor and patient, taking into account the doctor's assessment of the patient's individual needs.

'Traditional needle and syringe kit?' thought James with wide eyes. 'Harry is not getting that one. The Epi-Pen will be fine. Lily can carry it with her in case of emergency. I wonder why she never told me about the allergies in her family before.'

Speaking of Lily, as if on cue she stirred in bed and sat up, looking around the room for James. When she spotted him, she got out of bed as carefully and quietly as she could, so not to disturb Harry. He was still sleeping soundly. And the more time he spent at the hospital sleeping the better. When he started crying, it was very hard to stop him.

Lily tiptoed across the room and sat down on the small table next to James's chair. She eyed the packet curiously and craned her neck to read the print on the page.

"What's that you've got?"

"A packet about Anaphylaxis. I didn't know much about it so I asked the Healer for some information," he responded.

Lily smiled. "Good. I'm glad you're taking some interest."

"Of course," he said, "I don't want this to happen again." There was a minute or two of silence during which Lily sneezed and James cleared his throat of the lingering phlegm he had accumulated during his nap. Then he worked up the courage and asked Lily,

"So why didn't you tell me about the allergies in your family?"

Lily shrugged. "I didn't know they would be passed down. He only got sick for the first time four months ago. And I had gotten over my allergies as a child. But I do still get sick sometimes when I eat peanuts."

"You were allergic to peanuts?"

"Yes. So?"

"It's not a problem or anything," he assured her with a small grin, "I was just curious, is all."

Another minute's pause. "So, they said that he'll be fine. They're just going to keep him overnight to run some tests and keep him from having a relapse," he said in parrot of the Healer.

Lily nodded, but she had a strange expression. It seemed like she wanted to say something, although she didn't quite know how to word it. "I…er…I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning," she said, staring more at the stain on the wall above James's head than at him. "I was just scared. I didn't…I…thought he might…you know…I--well, I'm sorry. You understand, right?"

At James's wide grin, Lily cocked her head and glared at him. "Are you laughing at me?"

This time he did laugh. "No, Lily. I'm just…happy. I thought you hated me, or something. I thought you'd go back home."

"Hate you?" she echoed, wrinkling her nose in confusion. James stared at all the spackled freckles on it. "I could never hate you, James. And why would I go back home?"

"Because I made Harry sick."

"But you didn't do it on purpose," she pointed out. Then she sighed. "I should have told you about the allergy. And that I pump milk. It was my fault too."

"So…we're okay now?"

"Yeah," she grinned, "I think we are."

James's soft brown eyes locked with her brilliant green ones for a moment, and he leaned forward to give her the first kiss he had given her in nearly a year. His hand gently caressed her freckled cheek as he remembered the tingling sensation of her soft lips. He felt her hand slide past his shoulder and behind his neck where she brushed his skin softly with the tips of her nails. They broke apart for a second or two to breathe and all at once it came back; the feel of his hand on her cheek, the alluring scent of his cologne, the smell of his hair, and the feel of his lips against hers. When she pulled all the way back, she felt James tenderly rub his thumb across her cheek and saw him stare at her with concerned eyes. Her own filled with tears. She was failing the battle to hold them back and felt one escape from the brim of her eye.

"Lily?"

She stood up briefly to switch seats from the tabletop to his lap and cuddled her head into the crook of his neck. The smell of him had always seemed strongest there and it comforted her. She drew in a shaky breath and mumbled three wonderful, beautiful words that James had been longing to hear.

"I love you."

: : :

-->

Author's Note: -squeal- My favorite chapter EVER.

Dedications: Don't worry. On the bright side, these things'll stop when I die.

My wonderful reviewers: You make me and my inbox smile.

Chapter 6: Oops! Day Three

(5:23 a.m. Hallways. St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. London.)

Lily was wandering the expansive hallways of St. Mungos despite the fact that everyone else was in bed. It was lucky that James had made friends with Harry's Healer, because if it weren't for her, they wouldn't have been able to stay with him tonight. The ward he had been assigned to could board two people, but Harry was its only occupant so an extra bed was left unoccupied.

When visiting hours had ended, two Healers came into the room; one foreign to Lily and the one who had taken Harry's blood pressure and had given James the pamphlet. The first Healer had tried to tell them to leave--that visiting hours were over--but when the second one saw Lily's tearful expression--which, I might add, she'd been trying to hide--she had given them special permission to stay. Much to the displeasure of the first Healer, I'm sure.

James had been sleeping at the time and when he awakened, Lily told him what had happened. He said that he was glad that they could stay, and he would have made sure of it even if they hadn't been given permission.

Lily beamed with pride.

They'd been sharing the bed all night, but she'd excused herself--claiming that she needed to go to the bathroom--for a walk. She'd feel rather guilty for lying to James later, but right now, she only felt sick.

It was probably due to the fact that she had eaten hospital food for dinner. And hospital food never coped well with her system. Maybe it was because she greatly disliked the place and associated it with bad things. Who knew? Or it could have been the chunk of peanut brittle she'd been given for dessert.

`I really shouldn't push my luck,' she thought glumly as her stomach gave an uneasy lurch. `Ahh! Bathroom!'

She scampered down the hall and into the main lobby, where she knew the bathroom was. The door swung back and forth violently as she hurried through it and into the nearest cubicle where she retched up her dinner.

Letting out a moan of distress and wiping her mouth, she leaned against the cubicle wall and drew her legs in an bend toward her chest.

`I hate peanuts,' she griped mentally. `I never want to see those vile legumes again.'

Now back to the bit about being a whore. Lily was having very mixed feelings about her actions towards John and James during the last couple of days. First, she had made love to John before leaving. She didn't know why she had chosen to accept his `gift' but somehow it comforted her and it had hopefully comforted him. And let him know that she didn't hate him. Or whatever he thought.

Then there was James. Why had he kissed her? Why? They were supposed to be trying this week for Harry. Harry, not themselves.

`But John arranged this for me,' she thought, `mostly for me, anyway. And I…I…'

`Love him?' offered the nasty voice.

`Yes. So much.'

`What about John?' it questioned. `Don't you love him?'

`Well…yes, but, this is different. I care a lot for John. I want him to be happy. And he did make me happy, and he took me in when I needed him, but….'

`You love James more?'

`It's not really that I love James more,' she conceded. `It's just that I'm not in love with John. I love him, yes. But I'm not in love with him.'

`What about that kiss James gave you? What happened then?'

`It...er…brought a lot of memories back,' Lily admitted. `I felt a lot for him when we kissed. It was like I…'

`Wanted him back?'

`Yes.'

`Do you think it'll happen?'

`I hope so. I want it to.'

`You know he loves you. He said so yesterday.'

`So he'll take me back?'

`I'm certain of it.'

Lily checked her watch: 5:30 a.m. She scrambled to her feet and left the ladies' room. The tiles were cold against her feet and she hurried down the long, winding hall. Pictures of past Healers grinned at her as she passed, and the Fountain of Magical Brethren stood tall and proud near the information desk. She turned right down the 600 hallway and made her way to the end, taking her time, to where ward 615 lay.

Her hand closed around the cool, silver doorknob and she pushed the door open. Harry was still sleeping soundly in his bed, turned on his side with his little hands upon the pillow and bed sheets. She drew back the curtain that separated the two beds to reveal a very sleepy looking James. He squinted in the darkness at her and then mumbled,

“Where'd you go? There's a bathroom in Harry's section of the room, you know.”

Lily was glad it was so dark; her cheeks were flushed bright pink. “Oh.” `I thought that was a closet. Honestly, they should label the doors around here.'

“Is everything okay?” he whispered as she lifted the blanket and joined him in bed. “You were gone for a while.”

“I just…got a little sick. It was the peanut brittle.”

James sighed. “I told you not to eat it!”

“Well, it was good. For hospital food, that is.”

“You think the negative reinforcement would have kicked in by now,” he mumbled.

“Oi!” she swatted him on the chest, ensuing a grin from him. But she snuggled closer to him anyway and he put an arm around her back, giving her forehead a kiss.

“I love you, Lil,” he whispered. Lily felt a warm feeling seep through her body and she nuzzled under his chin with her head. He gave a small laugh and looked down at her.

“You remind me so much of a kitten when you do that,” he chuckled. “I used to have one that would do the same.”

Lily smiled. “Well, I used to have a lot of cats. I suppose it rubbed off.”

“And the cuddling part,” he added. “Oh, and the long naps. The laziness too.”

“James!” she warned him, and then added, “At least I'm not a stupid deer!”

“Oi! Deer are not stupid and neither are STAGS,” he put an unnecessary emphasis on `stag'. It was part of their joke. The first time James had shown her his Animagus form, she had mistaken the beautiful stag for a deer. Since then, she has overused the term.

“Nah, it's just the stags.”

He poked her. “I am not.”

She poked him back. “Yes you are.”

He poked again in retaliation. “Then you love a stupid stag. And a stupid stag's son.”

Lily considered this. “I guess I do.”

James uttered a satisfied laugh and cuddled her close. “I win.”

Lily mumbled something in reply, but it was muffled by James's shirt. “Hmm?”

“I said”--she lifted her head so he'd be able to hear her--“`you do not.' You just made a point, that's all.”

“A winning point!” He loved teasing her. It was his greatest pastime.

“Oh, stuff it,” she surrendered. “I'm tired.”

“Aww,” he cooed in mock sympathy. “Does my little kitten want to sleep?”

Lily smacked him.

“Ow!” he moaned, rubbing his face. “Ferocious little kitten!” She raised her hand in warning. “Okay, okay!” She lowered it and snuggled under the blankets. Once he was certain that she was all tucked in and unexpecting, he did the move that ended up with Lily on her back and he proudly straddling her middle. He smirked at her.

“You like to play that way, huh?” she asked, a grin starting.

“Indeed.”

They didn't spend the whole time exchanging sarcastic remarks, but they didn't spend it sleeping, either.

- - -

(7:41 a.m. Ward 615. St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. London.)

`I can't believe myself,' thought Lily angrily. `Not that that wasn't wonderful…but still…'

She looked down at James, who had cuddled himself close to her soon after they'd finished. For someone who acted so tough, he sure loved to be held. Her arms were around him and his head was rested just above her breasts. His silky hair tickled her chin as he shifted position, but his glasses, which were painful if they pressed against you, had been removed.

Closing her eyes and savoring the softness of her pillow, she thought about earlier that morning and the night before James had come to pick up Harry and her. Both times had been done for two different reasons, and meant two totally different things to Lily.

With John, she had been trying to comfort him. Admittedly, sex had been the last thing on her mind that night, but there was no way she could have refused John. He had wanted it and it was their last night together. She didn't want to hurt him more than she already had by agreeing to the week with James. More than being comforting to him, it also comforted her some. It showed her that he wasn't angry at her for missing James or wanting to be with him. It was his way of telling her that he loved her one last time.

But she and James had done it strictly out of love for each other. She hadn't wanted their first time as a couple again to be in a hospital bed. Or in the same room as their small son, for that matter. That thin polyester curtain was not enough to block out the noise. She silently thanked anyone who was listening for the fact that no hospital staff worked late on their floor. James had also learned a few things that not only physically pleased Lily, but mentally too. He had finally learned to be more considerate of what she wanted during sex, and Lily found it to be their best time yet.

Though despite her reasons for her actions, she still felt like a whore.

`Two men in three days,' she thought dismally. `Oh, what would my mother say?'

`I think it's time to compare John and James,' said the nasty voice, `you need to know who you want.'

`I know I do,' thought Lily, `but how do I compare them? I love them both for different reasons.'

`Decide which reasons are more important.'

`Well,' began Lily, `I love John because he was the only one who cared about me after I left James. Everyone else at my job and in Hogsmeade looked down in shame on the teenaged mother. But he didn't. He was my friend.'

`Friend?' asked the nasty voice curiously, `Is that all?'

`Yes,' admitted Lily heavily. `I don't really regret letting it go farther, but friendship was all that I wanted from him.'

`Then why did you let it go farther?'

`I don't know.'

`Yes you do,' it conceded.

`Because he--he made me feel loved.'

`Now we're getting somewhere.'

`And feeling loved was what I wanted.'

`And James?'

`James is my best friend. He's been my best friend since the end of 6^th year. I'm always happy around him and he's the one I…well, you know. Then there's Harry. Harry is his son and he loves James.'

`But he loves John too.'

`Yeah, but I'm happier with James. It's just like the old days again. And John can still see him. Also, like I've told you before: I am not in love with John. I care for him and his happiness, but I'm not in love with him. James took my heart long before I met John.'

`So then do as I keep telling you to do: go with James.'

`I don't want to hurt John's feelings. How could I go with James and not hurt John?'

`You can't. You'll just have to hope that he'll get over it one day. And if you leave James, you'll be unhappy too. John wouldn't want you to abandon someone you really love. Your relationship would be tainted with his realitization that you do not love him.'

`But I do. It's just different love. Friendly love.'

`Lily,' sighed the voice. `Why don't you just rest for a while and think about it on your own?'

`Oh. That's nice,' she thought as she felt the voice slip away. Carefully, Lily unwrapped her arms from around James's shoulders and laid him gently on the pillow beside her. He shifted and pulled the blanket closer, but stayed otherwise asleep and still. She drew her legs up from under the blanket and hopped silently onto the white floor tiles. When she drew back the curtain, Harry squealed, surprising Lily, because she thought he'd been asleep. And that didn't at all wan her anxiety or her guilt.

“Ma!” Harry burbled as she sat down on the side of his bed. He waggled his arms at her.

“I still don't know if I'm supposed to pick you up, Harry,” she said seriously to her son. “Look at all of this stuff.” She gestured to the IV bag and the machines. Harry whined at her and gave her `soulful puppy dog eyes.'

“Oh, stop that,” she admonished with a playful grin. “You and daddy overuse that.” Lily gasped when she realized what she'd said; daddy. She had called James his daddy. That was John's term. James was just…James. A rush of cold made her tremble slightly. She sighed and looked down at Harry.

“Do you like James?” she asked him. Harry grinned at the sound of his name.

“Ames! Ames!”

Lily giggled. “I guess you do. What about daddy?”

“Ames!”

Was Harry trying to tell her something? Was she receiving some sort of sign from her baby? Does this mean that he liked James better than John? Was she free to stay with James now? Did she want James?

`Yes, you want James!' said the nasty voice. `Stop doubting your choices. Tell me why you cry yourself to sleep when John isn't around. Tell me.'

`B-because of James. I miss him.'

`Would you really want to go back to your old life? Now that you know James wants you and Harry back?'

`Not really.'

`Not really? What is that supposed to mean?'

`I just don't want to hurt John.'

`You're going to have to accept that you can't make both of them happy.'

`I know.'

She sighed. The ward door swung open and the healer from yesterday walked in, looking surprisingly cheery for someone up so early. Lily was barely awake; her eyes were drooping and she'd like to collapse onto the bed right now and sleep till noon. And she was sure she didn't look presentable, because her ponytail had stray bits of hair protruding from it and it had taken a slight lean to the right. She was also wearing the same outfit from yesterday and was in desperate need of a shower.

“Good morning!” sang the healer. “How's our little patient?” She strode over to the opposite side of the bed from Lily and looked him over, occasionally glancing at her clipboard.

“Well, Mrs. Potter”--Lily blushed at her assumption--“it seems that your son has recovered well and you may take him home anytime today!”

Lily smiled at her. “Thank you.” After making a few more marks on her paper, she tore off a section of it and handed it to Lily. “Here's his release form. Have a nice day.” Lily wished her the same and by the time she'd pocketed the paper, the healer and her shocking green robes had left the room.

In answer to her fatigue, she laid down on the bed beside Harry and snuggled into her pillow. Perhaps she could get in a bit of sleep before James woke up and they had to leave. She'd get no sleep done on a bumpy train with a toddler and probably wouldn't get much once they got home.

- - -

The trip home had definitely been exhausting. It was hard enough to get through the thick crowd in central London to ride the underground, but sneaking three people into a train was much more difficult. Both Lily and James had stupidly forgotten their money in their rushes to Mungo's, so they had to jump the turnstile (one at a time: James first, he got Harry, then Lily) and wear the invisibility cloak the entire time while squashed in the back of the train.

It was when the train stopped that they remembered James's car back at the downtown London garage. It was another three hours until the train's route brought it back to where they started. But they had to admit that sneaking out was much easier than in; some man had foolishly left his coat unattended while he went to the bathroom and James swiped his ticket stubs. (His wife was sitting next to his unoccupied seat). And babies didn't need tickets, so they were all set.

After the drive home, they were all tired and went almost immediately to sleep once they got back. Harry was still a little drowsy from the anti-biotics, so that helped his slumber along as well. He enjoyed his first night in his new bedroom, as did Lily. She and James shared a bed with no difficultly at all. It wasn't awkward and it wasn't strange. But what was strange was that Lily felt as if no time had gone by since they brought Harry home from the hospital. The first time, of course. It was as if nothing with John had ever happened. It felt so natural to her to be going to sleep next to James. She cuddled herself closer to him and in no time drifted off to sleep.

- - -

The rest of the week went by very well in comparison to the second day. She and James grew closer than they had been before and Harry grew to like James more than he did John. Not that he said that, or anything, but Lily could just tell. James was at home far more than John was and played with him more as well. And there seemed to be a connection between Harry and James. A connection that John and he didn't have. Lily couldn't quite explain it, but she knew it was there. And James was even helping Harry with his walking. Although it wasn't quite walking yet. It was more standing while supported and wobbling. But they were progressing, at least.

There was nothing that could have made her go back to Lorillard Avenue with John. She had made up her mind for sure; she was staying. Her mood had not been this good since before she had left this house and she had not cried, other than at the hospital for her son, at all this week.

The last two days of her stay did, however, bring about a few physical problems with Lily; she had been getting sick several times during the day. And she hadn't had any peanuts since the peanut brittle at St. Mungo's. This was beginning to frighten her.

Because there was a very good possibility of something Lily had hoped never to experience again. But last time she hadn't gotten sick. At all. Last time she didn't find out until--

She covered her mouth with her hand and ran to the bathroom as another rush of sick traveled up her throat. She just made it in time.

“That's it,” she said aloud, “I'm going to find out. Whether I like it or not.”

- - -

Meanwhile, back at the ranch--well, really in the downstairs living room, but was that relevant? Anyhow, down in the living room, James was pacing. Back and forth in front of the couch with his hand clasped behind his back. Harry's bright green eyes were fixed on him from his position in his playpen, following him as he walked.

James craned his neck over his shoulder to glance at him. “Harry?” he asked, “do you think I should do this?”

The toddler just burbled his name happily. “Ames!”

“Do you think it's too soon? But really, it isn't very soon. We've known each other for years, and--” James stopped and gave his son a curious look. “What are you doing?”

Harry had a stuffed raggedy Anne doll in his mouth and was chewing on her eyeball. He giggled as James took it away. “That's your mother's! Don't drool on it!” Harry reached for the toy, but James just ruffled his hair and smiled at him.

They both averted their eyes to the staircase as the slapping of Lily's bare feet on the steps echoed through the house. She walked shyly into the living room and joined her hands behind her back. James smiled inwardly; she looked very pretty. And his confidence was growing. He was going to do it.

“Lily? Could you come here for a moment?” James sat down on the couch and Lily walked over to take the empty space next to him. They shifted a bit to make it easier to face each other. He took her hands.

“I have something to ask you.”

“And I have something to tell you.”

“Well, you go first,” said James nervously, relieved to have his question delayed for the moment.

“No, no, you.”

“Me? Why me?” he warbled.

She sighed. “We'll go at the same time then.”

“Okay.”

“Ready?”

“Maybe we should count down from three.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“One.”

“Two.” In the space between `two' and the time they told each other what they needed to say, Lily and James became very, very nervous. For James, this was the most audacious thing he'd done in his entire life and there was a huge possibility of it ending in disappointment. And with Lily's news, she could either be squashed to death in a hug, or yelled at and rejected. But both decided to take their chances. There was no turning back now. Especially for her.

“Will you marry me?” “I'm pregnant.”

: : :

-->

Dedications: Bwahaha. It's like the song that never ends, people.

My subconscious: I had this wonderful dream that contributed to my trilogy! Yay! I wondered what I was going to use Gwendolyn for….

Chapter 7: Healing

(9:19 a.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

`I knew it had been a mistake,' thought John, `I never should have suggested it. Lily might not have wanted to…My sadness could have been a pressuring factor…And now we might be stuck with a child. God I hope it's James's…'

John had just received a visit from Lily. He had been very surprised to see her, and in the moment he'd looked through the window on the door, his hopes had been very high that she was back for good. But the nervous smile on her face didn't do much to assure him that this was why she was here.

“Hello, John,” she had said with a soft smile, “I told you I'd be back at the end of the week.”

“Are you staying with James?” His question had been brusque and he was sure his tone had been unpleasant, but he didn't want to dance around the issue.

“Well, erm, yes, actually,” she said, averting her eyes to the welcome mat on the doorstep. “But there's something I need to tell you. It's very important.”

“What is it?”

And that was when John received the biggest shock of his life. Bigger than the time he'd knocked both of his front teeth out when he was four, bigger than the time he'd failed his history exam, and much bigger than when he'd been promoted at work.

Because he might be a father. A real one--not just Harry's substitute. Which is how he had looked back at his daddy role during the past week.

There was only one problem; he could never handle this by himself. All his life, when he thought about children he imagined a wife being there with him. But if it was his baby, Lily would be over at Maple Oak and not here with him. Which is where she should be if it's his baby.

But what about Harry and James? Wasn't she in the right place, if his theory meant anything? She's with James. But what would happen if she had two children from two different men? They couldn't very well all live together. Polygamy is horribly wrong.

But Lily didn't want polygamy; she wanted James. And she had told this--a bit less bluntly--to him.

She had used the famous, “I love you, I'm just not in love with you” line. But unlike when you hear it in the movies, John could tell that this was indeed the case.

He knew that James had taken her heart first, and he knew that she had really only started a relationship with him because she had been feeling betrayed and hurt at the time, and he knew that he would never be permanently with her.

Then why did he feel so sad? So empty?

Because he was in love with her, despite her friendly feelings. But there was no way he could have asked her to give up her happiness for him. It hurt him to know that she cried during the day and that she practically lived out of old photo albums and it hurt to know that she cried herself to sleep when he was away.

It made him feel like he wasn't doing his job as her boyfriend well enough, although he knew this wasn't the case. Lily assured him--honestly--that he was not the problem.

The problem was that she and James had royally screwed things up before and she--if not him as well--was suffering from the rather harsh consequences.

So that was why he set up Lily and James's week together. To give her a chance to mend her old relationship--the relationship she desperately wanted back.

And to give her a chance to be happy again.

- - -

“I am not happy, James!” groused Lily as she walked back into the living room for the third time that day. James scooted farther down the couch to give her room to sit. He looked sideways at her and saw that her cheeks looked quite pale; she'd thrown up again.

“During my first pregnancy, I had no morning sickness at all! Now I've got it three times a day! I am going to kill whichever one of you did this to me.”

James chuckled. “Never mess with a pregnant lady.”

Lily smiled and snuggled against his shoulder. “That's right.”

They lay cuddled together for a few minutes without talking, just enjoying the silence of the house as their son slept.

“James?” asked Lily, lifting her head up so she could face him. “Will you still love me if it's John's baby?”

“Of course I will,” he said and gave her a hug. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and nuzzled his flannel shirt. “Did you think I'd exile you, or something?”

“I--I don't know. I just feel horrible.”

“Horrible? Why? Are you sick again?”

“No, not that kind of horrible,” she said brusquely, “For…for not knowing. I feel like some sort of whore.”

“Oh, Lily.” He held her tight and rocked her gently in his embrace. “You are not. You were with John that night.”

Lily paused for a moment. “So do you want it to be yours?”

“Of course I do!” he said, “I don't want John's…er…in your…I hope it's mine.”

Lily laughed. “I knew you'd say that.”

“Well, if I were a woman would you want some other man to get me pregnant?”

“It depends,” Lily contemplated, the ends of her mouth twitching slightly, “Would I be a man? Or still me? I'm not a lesbian, you know.”

He glared at her. “You know what I mean.”

With a giggle, Lily said, “Sorry, sorry. I was teasing. No, those other men better stay away from my Jamie!” She grabbed his arm possessively for emphasis.

“Now do you see? To me, you're mine. You've been mine for a long time, and other men should know that. So no touching.” He accented the last two words with pokes to her shoulder and smiled at her.

“But we weren't together then, so I don't know if I qualified as `yours',” Lily pointed out.

James frowned. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said glumly. Lily put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close so she could kiss his cheek.

“Don't look so glum. I'm here now. And I'm not going to leave again.”

“Good,” he said with a satisfied smile. “I never wanted you to in the first place. I cried for you for nearly three months every single night. My bed was very cold without you.”

“Oh?” Lily raised her eyebrows. “You're telling me you weren't with any other girls while we were apart?”

“Yes.”

“You swear?”

“I do.”

“On your life?”

“Yes, Lily. On my life.”

“On Harry's life? Because yours may not be important to you. You never know.”

“Yes, Lily! On my life, on Harry's--on yours! On the Queen of bloody England's life, I swear that I stayed faithful to you!”

Lily snickered. “You've always got to bring the queen in, eh?”

James grinned. “Mum always said to respect the queen.” They stayed silent for another few minutes until Lily asked,

“Why didn't you stop me? If you didn't want me to go?”

“I--I--” he faltered, looking tearful, “I didn't know if you wanted to be stopped. I thought that if I did, you'd say no. And yell. And I don't like being rejected or yelled at.”

“So you were willing to give up your wife and child over a phobia?” she asked, looking disgusted.

“No, it's…I…I don't know why I didn't stop you, all right?” He took his hand off from around her and folded them in his lap. Then he looked sideways at her.

“Why didn't you stay?” He looked down at the floor and began to slowly shake his head in disappointment. “I was stupid Lily. Very stupid. I didn't mean any of it. Why couldn't we have talked?”

Lily wiped her eyes and looked back at him. “Because you really hurt me, James.” Her voice shook with suppressed emotion. “All those months of assuring me that you were ready, and assuring me that you knew what to do, and that you'd be there for me….”

“And I was there for you!” His voice rose slightly. “I would have been no matter what, but you ran off and bought some apartment in Hogsmeade the minute something went wrong!”

Lily stood up and stared down at him with eyes that shone in indignance. “You had plenty of time to fix things! All you had to do was tell me that you needed to talk to me! There was no reason it couldn't have been worked out!”

“I had problems of my own to think about!” James was standing up too; they were face to face and practically yelling at each other. “I spent those three days thinking about Harry! And about you! And at the end of them I knew that I was ready! But then you said that you were leaving for sure. I never got to tell you anything I'd figured out! I just had to sit in the dining room and morn. Because I knew I'd lost you two,” he sat back down on the couch and rested his forehead in his palms. Lily sat down beside him and rubbed his back.

“You could have said something. There was plenty of time even on that night I left. I could have backed out of the deal and stayed here.”

“When was there time?” he whispered. “You took Harry and you were out of here just like that.” His eyes were watering; Lily could tell. The tears shimmered just beyond his silver-rimmed glasses.

“When I was walking out, perhaps,” she suggested in mock contemplation. Her own eyes were watering now. “That was the longest bloody walk to a door I've ever taken.” She laughed and a tear slipped from her eye.

James wrapped his arms around her and held her the tightest she could ever remember being held. It wasn't tight in a constricting way, but more in a loving way. An “I'll never let you go” sort of way. All through her body she felt warmth. In his arms she was safe from anything in the world that wanted to harm her.

And in his arms, she cried with him for the first time in her life.

- - -

(9:47 a.m. 238 Lorillard Avenue. Godric's Hollow.)

Lily had gone to a small, local park to meet up with John. Their earlier discussion didn't really cover much of what they needed to, and, as had been the case with James, Lily needed at least two times to get things totally sorted out. She was laying on her back on top of a picnic table, propped up on her elbows. No one was around the park to yell at her for doing so, either; the only other person there was a jogger, and she looked like she could care less about her surroundings.

Lily leaned her head back and let her hair blow in the gentle breeze. She hadn't felt this happy in long time. Or so free. And sure of herself. Which was surprising due to the fact that she was pregnant and retching up nearly every meal because of her morning sickness. And, in a rant, she had pointed out to James that three in the afternoon was most certainly not morning, and that someone had better rename the damned pregnancy symptom.

Although after a bit of flipping through one of their old pregnancy books, James found a nice spell to help Lily keep her food down, and she was feeling much better that day. Her happy mood might also be a result of her and James's chat the other night. They both realized where they went wrong and pointed out their mistakes. They also decided not to talk about it anymore, that it was in the past, and they were starting anew.

Lily lay back on the table and folded her arms behind her head. She was tired. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night because Harry kept waking her up, wanting to be fed. He was having his own bit of sickness lately and hadn't had much of an appetite. Until last night.

She sighed and closed her eyes. “And I'll have to go through the same thing with this one,” she mumbled.

“Talking to yourself, eh?” asked an amused voice from behind her. Lily sat up with a jolt and felt her cheeks go red. John took a seat on the picnic bench and smiled at her.

“I didn't hear you coming,” she said. No reply; John was staring off into the distance, seemingly pondering something. Lily looked down at the wooden surface of the picnic table. Why did she feel so nervous around him? She felt like she couldn't really talk to him anymore. It was so different from when they'd lived together. But come to think of it, she only talked to him about serious things at the beginning of their friendship. She told him all about James and her pregnancy, their relationship, why they broke up, confided feelings and thoughts to him, and none of it had been awkward. Now he seemed like a stranger. And she was starting to feel uncomfortable around him.

“I guess you'll need to have your stuff moved to your new house, right?” he asked tonelessly as he looked up at her.

“Yeah,” At his silent nod and quick stare to the ground, she cocked her head sideways and said, “Are you all right? You don't look so good. Have you been getting sleep?”

He shook his head. “Not much.”

“Is it because of me?”

He nodded. “I'm sorry.”

Lily sighed. “I--there's nothing I can do--I want to make it better--”

“You can't,” he said softly, “it'll just take time. I'll be fine.”

Another long pause. “I don't know if this is something you want to hear, but I have to tell someone.” A familiar smile graced her lips.

“You never could keep a secret,” he commented conversationally, also smiling. Lily felt a wave of guilt sweep through her; she did not want to make him stop smiling. She'd done enough of that.

“I…uh…” Having changed her mind, she quickly searched for another story to tell. No luck. John furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh, nothing.”

He sighed. “I'll probably find out sooner or later. You might as well.”

“I'm…uh…James proposed the other night.”

John's head snapped in her direction and his eyes went wide for a split second. “He did?” After the initial shock wore off, it looked as though it were something he had been expecting.

Lily looked shyly at her clasped hands. “Yes.”

“And?” he inquired eagerly.

“I haven't said anything about it,” she admitted. “After it happened, we both sort of went into shock. We didn't speak much.”

“Why would that send you into shock?” he wondered aloud.

“Oh, it wasn't just that.” Lily hopped gracefully from off of the picnic table and began to walk around the mulch path that encircled the playground; John followed. “It was the same night I told him I was pregnant. Same moment, actually.”

John gave her a peculiar look, but withheld his questions. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and walked with his head hanging slightly. Lily glanced at him quickly and then proceeded to stare at the empty jungle gym and swing sets. In an attempt, in turn, to glance back at her, he turned his head so to scratch his left ear; their eyes met.

Lily sighed. “What is it? We're getting nowhere this way.”

“I just need to ask you something,” he said. Lily's heart went out to him. He looked so scared and nervous. She softened her expression, yet urged him--gently--with a sweeping hand gesture.

“How much of a chance--” he cut himself off. “Do you think it's likely that--” He stopped again.

“If you're trying to ask about the baby, why don't you just say so?” she suggested, teasing. He gave her a grateful, yet embarrassed, smile.

“Do you think it's mine?” he asked, the anxiety and fear flooding back into both his tone and his expression. “Really, do you? Don't sugar coat it.”

Lily kept silent for a moment to increase the suspense. Immediately, she had known what answer to give him, and it was the absolute one hundred percent truth. She just enjoyed her drama, enjoying making him hang on her every movement, her every gesture, her every breath. After all, this was a big moment.

“No, John,” she answered finally, “I don't think it's yours at all. The reason I got sick at the hospital was because of my allergies, not because of a baby. It would have been too soon anyhow. I was just excited that Harry was better, so I ate the peanut brittle without a second thought.”

Lily was glad to see that he looked relieved. “Oh, I see,” she said, trying hard not to smile, “you don't want to have a baby with me.”

John obviously didn't know that she was joking. “It's not that at all!” he rushed to correct, “I just--”

“John, I was only joking.”

He was redder than a jar of tomato sauce.

They walked a while longer in silence until John worked up his courage again. “It really isn't because of you. I would love for it to be you. I just couldn't do this on my own….”

Lily nodded. “I understand. And I didn't think that I could either.” She paused. “And I wouldn't leave you all the work. You know I wouldn't abandon my baby.”

He sighed. “I know. I'm just so busy with work; I have no time for a baby! And I would never want to pile extra work on you and James. I wouldn't want to leave it with a sitter all the time either.” He stopped himself, realizing how frantic he was becoming. “You see why I have been stressing?”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don't have to worry about it. I'm almost positive that it's not yours. There were just so many things that point fingers at James.”

He pulled his lower lip in and out of his mouth with his teeth. He was staring at the ground. “I hope you're right.”

- - -

Not too far from our heroes, another dilemma was tearing at the cerebral cortex of a less admirable individual. Lord Voldemort was trying to make possibly the most important decision he had ever made.

“Which boy?” he asked aloud. There was no one in the room with him, so his own echo bounced back at him. Recently, one of his Death Eaters had reported to him a prophecy he had overheard in a local pub in Hogsmeade. After analyzing the prophecy, straining their memories, and violating the Ministry of Magic's “terms of service”, if you will, Voldemort and his comrades had narrowed the scope to two small boys who were very close in age.

Their names were Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom.

: : :

-->

Dedications: These are the last, I promise!

Stephen King: For helping me narrow my usage of adverbs.

My readers: For reading, of course! What would the point of this story be without you guys?

Chapter 8: Bereavement of the Potters

A lot of new things happened during the months that followed the early weeks of Lily and Harry's stay at Maple Oak. Harry learned to walk alone and unsupported, which was both a good and bad thing. It was good because it meant that his legs had gotten stronger and he was more independent, but this independence had also given him more opportunities for trouble.

And trouble was why his newfound skill was ambiguous. He was always exploring the house and playing with things he shouldn't. So far two lamps and a set of dishes had been broken, both because he pulled on tablecloths, an act he quickly realized his mother would not put up with; he spent copious amounts of time in his crib as punishment.

His speech was improving as well. In just three months he had gone from words like “cup”, “Ames”, and “ma” to “I have juice please?” and “Daddy!” and “Mommy!” Much of his improvement came from the time Lily spent with him. They always talked.

Not too long after Harry and Lily's arrival, James went back to work. The best part about that, Lily always told him, was that he didn't work often. He was rarely called in.

In mid-September came the biggest change to the Potter household: Lily went into labor. After a few stressful hours of hot baths, Kegal exercises, and breathing technique practice, James got both Harry and Lily into the car and sped off toward the center of London to the hospital. A few more hours later--of screaming and crying on Lily's part--came the birth of a baby girl, Alexa Jane. The last name came after the test.

As soon as she was out and clean, the doctor took her to another part of the hospital for a paternity test. James's blood had been taken earlier; they didn't need John's. If Alexa's and James's didn't match, that was all the evidence they needed.

During the time the baby was gone, James and Harry stayed close to Lily, keeping her company on the stiff hospital bed. Harry stayed back behind his father, seeming nervous around Lily after hearing her screaming from his place in the hallway. One of the nurses had watched him while Lily was delivering. James had no luck trying to move him either; Harry yelled when he tried.

“Harry,” said Lily, arms extended, “come here, baby. Mommy's fine. I won't yell anymore, I promise.”

“No!” He peeked out from behind James. “Mommy scare me!”

Lily sighed. Then an idea came to mind. “All right, Harry. You don't have to hug me. I'll just hug the new baby instead.”

Harry's eyes narrowed and he emerged fully. “No! My mommy! No new baby!” He crawled over to her and plopped down on her stomach. Lily `oof'ed. James laughed.

“No baby,” Harry repeated. Lily rubbed his back, exchanging a worried look with James.

“Harry, you're going to have to get used to the idea. Because there is a new baby.” He lifted his head up and stared at her, his tiny hands pushing into her stomach. He looked both angry and sad. James said nothing.

“No!” His eyes watered. “My mommy! No leave me!” Lily hugged the sniffling child.

“I'm not going to leave you, sweetheart,” she said, running her fingers through his silky hair. “You're going to stay with mommy and daddy at home. The baby's going to live with us.”

“My room?” He asked, sniffling. He wiped his eyes. Lily and James laughed at his worried expression.

“She will someday,” said Lily. “But first she's staying in our room. She's too little to live with you right now.”

He looked relieved. It was so unusual for a toddler to be both so intelligent and so expressive. All three of them turned to look at the door. The doctor was back with the results. Lily noticed that James's hands were trembling and he avoided all eye contact with the doctor.

He set the folded piece of paper down on the bed next to Lily and muttered, “I'll leave you all alone.”

His receding footsteps told them that he had left, and Lily picked up the paper. But rather than opening it right away, she just sat there holding it out. She looked from James to Harry to the paper and back again. Her hands were trembling too.

“Well,” urged James, “get on with it.” She nodded, but before she opened it she looked at Harry. He wasn't moving; he seemed to have grasped the seriousness of the situation. How would he feel if he knew that his baby sister was only his half sister? Lily had never wanted anything more in her life. She had to be James's. It was what all of them wanted.

“I can't do it,” said Lily. She held the paper at arm's length, treating it as if it were some sort of smelly animal. Harry, who had become impatient, snatched the paper and ripped it right down the middle.

“Gone,” he announced as he tossed the papers aside. Lily's eyes went wide and James just stared at his son in awe. Harry giggled and rolled backward over the papers.

Lily gasped. “Harry! Don't mess those up!” James picked him up and set him in his lap. Lily grabbed both halves of the paper and looked them over, her eyes falling on the bottom half. She closed her eyes, smiling, and let out a relieved sigh.

“She's yours.”

- - -

Not too long after Lily spoke those two, wonderful words, baby Alexa was brought back in by the nurse to visit with her family. For the most part, Harry was well behaved around her. He didn't hit, play rough, or even go too close to her. Lily had to encourage him to give her a kiss on the forehead and hold her hand. He seemed less afraid of her by bedtime.

A month passed and many more changes occurred in the Potter household. Alexa moved from her parents' room to Harry's within three weeks and the two became the best of friends. Harry always wanted to be near Alexa; he was her protector. They had long conversations in gibberish when they were left in their playpen together. Harry also seemed to be teaching Alexa. Either that, or she was a very good observer, because she progressed much quicker than Harry had at her age. She could wave goodbye, smile, and roll over, with encouragement from her mother.

As well as being constantly accompanied by Harry, Alexa was always near James, who shared Harry's protectiveness. He spent the majority of his time with his children and wife, overjoyed that all those months of worrying had been for naught.

Lily's switch from ex-wife to wife again was another of the changes. They had a second wedding, this one less formal. The JoP officiated the ceremony in the town hall. The whole thing had lasted less than an hour, but it was memorable nonetheless. Harry stayed with his grandmother while James took Lily--who had been pregnant at the time--out for dinner. Once Harry was in bed that night, his parents got a little friendly, to say the least.

As for John, he went on with life as usual. Working, paying bills, and bringing the occasional girlfriend home. None of them lasted long. His workaholic tendencies drove most away within a couple weeks. To this day he remains the same way, unmarried and work obsessed.

In the middle of October, a change occurred in the Potter household for the worst. Dumbledore dropped by one night during a visit of Sirius's with bad news: Voldemort was after Harry. A prophecy had been made by Sybil Trelawney telling of a boy born in late July to parents who had thrice defied the Dark Lord. He would be the only one with the power to vanquish him. Voldemort didn't like the sound of that.

“He's just a baby!” Lily had said with fearful eyes, “how could a baby destroy him?”

Now it was Halloween night and instead of taking their children out to trick or treat, the Potters were stuck indoors, their only protection a spell called the Fidelius Charm. The charm was designed to hide the house from view to all but the secret-keeper and those who knew the exact location. They had chosen Peter Pettigrew to be their secret-keeper after deciding that their original choice, Sirius, was much too obvious.

(11:03 p.m. 1457 Maple Oak Lane. Godric's Hollow.)

“This is the worst Halloween I've ever had,” said Lily as she took the empty seat on the couch beside James. “I can't take my children trick or treating, and I don't feel safe in my own house.” He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“We'll be fine,” said James, “We can trust Peter. You're worrying for nothing.”

Lily remained tense. She glanced over at Harry and Alexa in their playpen and chewed nervously on her bottom lip.

“Stop that,” implored James. “Let's just try to relax.”

“I...” she trailed off. “I...”

“You..?”

“I just...I had this - this dream last night,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows. “A dream?” he said. “What kind of dream?”

“It was about a bat. A black bat. It flew all around the forest and smashed into a tree. It died. Then after it, two white bats showed up; they died too.” Lily gave him a worried look, but James laughed.

“What do bats have to do with anything?”

“Did you not pay attention at all in Divination?” she snapped. James grinned at her. He, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had spent the majority of their time in Divination passing notes and making jokes about Professor Pomely's gigantic ears. Lily narrowed her eyes at him. “Having dreams about bats is a death omen. White bats represent family members and black bats represent you!”

James gave her a dubious look. “Do you honestly believe anything that old codger taught us? It's a load of crap, Lily. Just like Tarot. Calm down, okay? I'll rub your back and you can go to sleep in my lap.”

Lily sighed; there was no sense in arguing with him. It would just make both of them angry, and being angry was the last thing either of them needed right now. She lay down in his lap and made herself comfortable. After a few minutes of his expertly competent hands on her back, she dozed off.

Getting to sleep when you're anxious can be very hard to do, and when one has succeeded at it, being awoken--whether gently or not--is often an unpleasant experience. Lily received the short straw in this case. She was shaken roughly by the shoulders, and the shock of being awoken in such a way made her tumble off of James's lap and over the side of the couch. She hit the floor with a loud thump.

“Dammit, James!” she yelled. “That was my elbow! What the hell is wrong with you?”

She looked up at him and followed his gaze. The panel on the front door glowed bright green. Someone was outside. Lily's heart began to beat faster. Her palms moistened and her hands began to shake.

“Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off--” She was up and at the playpen in a moment. She gathered Harry into her arms.

“What about Alexa?”

“I'll take care of her. Go!” Tears sliding down her cheeks, she gave her husband what would be their last kiss and hurried upstairs with her son. It was harder than it sounds. With every step she took he wobbled in her arms.

“No run!” he whined. Lily shushed him and ran to the nursery. She sat him in her lap and wrapped her robes around him, except for his head. It wasn't much of a hiding place, but it comforted Lily. A little.

Downstairs, the front door flew off and cracked in two. The glass pane fell from the mahogany frame and shattered on the floor. Lord Voldemort crunched the pieces and laughed.

“How did you find us?” asked James hoarsely. He stood in front of the playpen, holding his wand out in front of him like a skewer.

Voldemort grinned. “It seems that your friend Peter isn't as loyal as you thought. Isn't that right?” He moved aside so a smaller figure could be seen in the doorway. Peter, trembling with fear, looked over at James.

“You traitor,” he spat. Peter flinched.

“I--I didn't want to, James, I--” Voldemort held out a hand to silence him. He stepped further into the house and peered around the living room.

“Where's your son?” He sounded more curious than demanding.

“He's not here.”

“Liar. Move aside!”

James backed up, but otherwise stayed put. He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter. She was sleeping, completely unaware of the horrors around her. James was going to anything in his power to protect her, to protect his whole family.

“Avada Kedavra!” he bellowed. A jet of green light shot from the end of his wand. Voldemort conjured a shield from thin air and it bounced off. The beam hit the mirror on the wall behind them and landed right inside of the playpen.

James was afraid to look. It had hit Alexa. It had killed his daughter, his beautiful baby girl. A rage like he had never known before overtook him and he raised his wand high into the air.

But this time, Voldemort was ready for it. Before James could open his mouth, he was sprawled on the ground. Dead.

Voldemort peered into the playpen. “That wasn't him, Wormtail. Take care of the body!”

Peter, who had been covering his face with his hands and trembling off in the corner, slid his hands down to his pants pocket and withdrew his wand. Voldemort started up the stairs as Peter went to the playpen to destroy the evidence.

In Harry's room, Lily could hear his approaching footsteps and began to tremble. Her heart beat faster than it ever had and she could feel beads of perspiration forming on her forehead, not just from the extra heat her robe provided. Harry turned to face her with wide eyes.

“Mommy?”

“Shh!”

Lily felt faint as the loud, clunking footsteps grew closer and closer. She was so overcome with anxiety that she could barely see straight and had trouble sitting upright. She nearly did faint, however, when his cold, yet grinning, face appeared in the doorway. She had hoped, after her and James's previous encounters with this villain, never to see his face again.

Instead of yelling or screaming or running or even moving as Voldemort drew closer to the little corner she and Harry were huddled up in, Lily sat frozen in place, except for her eyes, which followed him, wide with fear.

“Get up,” he snarled, grin fading. “And give me the baby.”

Harry buried himself in his mother's robes, nuzzling his head into her shoulder. “No!” he yelled, and the cloth muffled it some. “I'm not a baby!”

Voldemort's serious expression flickered and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “He sounds so determined and stubborn. Just like his father.” Lily flushed with anger. Voldemort crouched down to Harry's line of sight and said, in a sickly sweet tone, “Harry's the man of the house now, isn't he? But only for a few minutes.”

Voldemort stood back up and looked down at Lily, satisfied with her expression of mixed horror and grief. Her gaze was forward and blank, and her breathing came in short, heavy thrusts. The only thing she could manage to think, manage to comprehend, was one short sentence she repeated over and over in her mind.

`I'm a widow.'

Voldemort was growing impatient. “Get up, now.”

Lily refused to move. She was not going to lose her son as well. Voldemort's eyes narrowed into thin, snakelike slits.

“I said get up. NOW!” As he yelled the last word, he grabbed Lily by the scruff of her robes and threw both her and Harry to the ground. It was the second time she'd slammed into the ground that night. Fear welled up inside her. Her only other feeling was one in her head; a large slice ran from her hairline to the top of her right eyebrow, and if she were still alive today, it would have left one hell of a scar. Luckily, she had stopped herself before she'd come down on Harry and squashed him. He was still tangled up in her robes.

With amazing agility, she slid him, by the back of his shirt, over near the toy box and stood in front of him as a shield.

“Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

Lily backed up a step and flared her robe out some to hide Harry from view. “Not Harry!” she pleaded, close to tears, “Not Harry! Please--I'll do anything--” And she would have. She was desperate to save her son from the man she and James had so narrowly escaped three times before.

“Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now...” He gestured with a flick of his wand.

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead--” He cut her off by shoving her aside and she tripped over her own feet, cascading into the toy box. Harry screamed and Lily reached forward to snatch him just as Voldemort lifted him from the ground.

She clutched him tightly to her chest, and he didn't seem to mind, because he much preferred his mother's tight hold to the scary grin of a stranger. Voldemort was thoroughly angered now, and he grabbed the toddler by the scruff of his shirt and yanked. Lily barely held him in place.

“STOP!” Harry wailed in terror. He reached down for Harry again, successfully this time, because his sudden movement surprised Lily and she regained her senses too late.

“MOMMY!” Harry's chubby cheeks were red as a fire engine and she could see the veins along his neck.

“Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy...” she sobbed.

Lily was too distraught even to try and rescue her son and she balled herself up, sobbing. She was so loud and her breaths were so heavy and frequent that she was nearly choking herself. Voldemort wanted silence. He wanted his vanquishing of the powerful child to be momentous, and Lily's loud wailing was ruining the moment. He raised his wand to her and muttered two words that had already claimed so many wizards' lives.

In a flash of green light, she hit the floor, the blood from her forehead smearing upon the hard wood.

He then raised his wand to Harry, who hadn't gone any quieter than his mother had been, and placed it neatly to his forehead; he thought it would be ironic for the child and his mother to have identical scars.

“Avada...”

The next moment, and many after that, was a blur to Lord Voldemort. The moment, he uttered the final word to the incantation. Harry fell, full force and bawling, on top of his mother's dead body. All Voldemort felt was searing pain. He thought his limbs were being ripped from his torso and his hair was being pulled up by the roots. Everywhere was pain. Then finally, after what seemed an eternity, it all ended as abruptly as it had started and he felt like he was floating. The wind from the open window carried him across the room and he took his only way out. He wanted nothing more to do with the cottage on Maple Oak. In seconds, he was gone.

And so was the chubby man called Peter Pettigrew after sensing the disturbance. He ran for his life. The Aurors would soon arrive and he couldn't be found near the scene of the crime.

The only one remaining alive in the house was Harry, who wailed at the pain in his forehead and at his mother's limp form. He didn't understand that she would never come back, never hold him, never comfort him again, but he cried anyway, because she wasn't there to do it now, when he needed it.

::: :::

-->