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Lily sat on the steps leading up to their home, a cigarette in her hand and a glass of wine that sat as her only companion on a moonless night.
The red haired woman took a long drag from the half burned cigarette, letting the smoke and light fill her with some warmth as January, too, settled in her lungs. The air mixed and burned inside of her confusing her body with the dance of heat and chill, but she didn’t mind.
Smoking was banned in the house ever since they learned of Harry, but of course, that rule was broken during the learning curve and didn’t pertain to outside of its doors. Now that Harry had been born, Lily had taken up the habit again, but only rarely and not even for the sake of habit. As she sat there watching the smoke lift off the bud, she decided it would be her last cigarette. There was nothing tying her to damn thing other than memories of years past sneaking around Hogwarts, but this was a new chapter in her life with new beginnings and the promise of new days, and that included new habits.
It was rare for her to catch a moment to be spared by herself nowadays. Ever since Harry was born, there was not a moment she could escape the crowd and the voices and the constant need to do something, especially now with the threat of war looming in the distance.
It was dangerous to be outside, sure, but the protection spells surrounded the property line of the house, and Lily liked the thrill of danger. It made her feel simple, rebellious, and young again. ‘Young again,’ she thought. She was only twenty years old and yet she felt as if she was in her fifties— tired, wise, and sick of the world.
She was by no means unhappy. She was married, she just had a beautiful baby, she had an abundance of friends who were more than happy to help raise her child (half out of the need for normalcy and a semblance of something to grasp onto when fighting this war felt as if it was a lost cause), and she was helping with the war effort… Sort of.
Her place in the war had been significantly diminished, but that didn’t stop her from doing everything she felt she could do to help in the effort from constructing charms and portkeys during Harry’s nap times to sending along patronuses to keep in the loop.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Lily’s eyes settled on the family cat who often made an appearance on their lawn from time to time. It sat right on the pathway leading up to the house, watching the road as if guarding the home from any intruders— as if the dozens and dozens of wards and enchantments over their home was not already enough. The cat always perched itself their at night, letting the moon roll by before making its way back into the house sometime before morning. She, nor James, could make any sense of it. The theory they had accepted was that Minerva had asked the cat to watch over them and report in the event of danger— mostly in favor of the idea of Minerva in her animagus form discussing top secret plans with an average house cat. Lily gave a light laugh, letting her head fall down as she took another sip of wine. Did that cat have any idea of it all? Of the pain and violence in the world? Did it know a war was looming just a few feet from the gates of their home? Did it know the amount of time it took to set up the charms and enchantments cast upon the area? As she watched the cat’s tail movements stop, she wondered if it could hear her thoughts, if it knew and felt the worry she held in her heart.
A frown settled across her features as she looked down at the remnants within the wine glass, swirling the rest around as her mind swirled with thoughts. The cat turned its head and it’s piercing yellow stare met Lily’s distant green one. In that moment, Lily felt the need to pour ever thought she had into the line of connection. As the cat kept it’s lock on the eyeline, Lily fell back into her mind, feeling as if the only thing tethering her into the real world was the yellowed gaze of her watcher. She felt herself sinking further as the darker shades of thought colored her mind.
‘What if this was all for nothing? What if we haven’t run far enough? What if he finds Harry? James? Everyone? He’s growing stronger with each passing day. Could he already know where we are? What we’re doing? What if he’s just waiting for the others to leave so he can just—’
“Lils?”
Lily severed her gaze from the cat, turning around to see a very sleepy James standing in the doorframe. His clothes were wrinkled, his dark hair was a mess— but when was it not— he was rubbing sleep from his eyes, and he looked perfect. A vision of comfort and normalcy. Even with his skewed glasses and dreamy movements, he managed to wake Lily’s entire body from the deepened sleep of the darkened areas of her mind. She gave James a smile before turning back to the cat, wondering if they had called James outside before Lily could fall any further.
“What are you still doing out here, love?” he asked, his voice still rough from sleep.
Lily looked back over her shoulder and gave him a smile before looking ahead of her again— the cat now returned to it’s unspoken duty of watching the perimeter of the house—, grabbing the wine glass to offer James the now unoccupied seat beside her.
“Nothing. Just thinking,” she responded, letting her eyes drift across the snow banks.
She felt something being draped over her shoulders and recognized it as the blanket Marlene had knitted for her one Christmas while they were still in Hogwarts. She smiled at the memory, taking a sip from her glass as James slid into the blanket as well, wrapping an arm over her body and taking in a long breath before sighing out dramatically.
“Yeah, just feel that cold air. I’m sure it’s very comforting feeling like you’re gonna freeze to death,” he chucked out pulling her in closer and jumping a bit as her skin made contact with his. “Merlin, you feel like ice! Aren’t you cold?”
“Am I? Didn’t notice, really. Besides,” she said, looking up at James and giving him a smirk. “I’ve got you here with me now. Free body heat, better than any blanket.”
James gasped dramatically, using his free hand to rest against his heart and conjured up his most overly dramatic wounded expression he could muster. “Lily! How could you? Is that all I am to you, a hot water bottle to hold onto? You only use me for my body heat.”
“Of course, dear. That’s why I married you. Ever since we started dating I’ve never had cold hands or feet. An act of pure heroism,” Lily smiled, setting aside the glass and pressing a kiss to his lips. “The snogging is an added bonus.”
James smiled, pulling Lily into a longer, deeper kiss before letting his thumb stroke her cheek chilled by the air. “I’ll take it… Doe,” he said, before letting his head droop down and press slow, soft kisses down her neck.
Lily rolled her eyes at the horrible joke, but it comforted her to have a piece of something so sweet and simple in her life still. Ever since they had conjured up their patronuses for the first time, James had relentlessly called Lily “doe” for months on end. After a while, it became a simple nickname only called upon in their silliest and most private moments of youthful adoration. Now she wondered who that little girl was, so young and free and ignorant of the pain yet to come. It felt even further than a memory, too distant and too brightly colored in her mind to have been real. Lily smiled as his breath tickled her skin, put out the cigarette, and released herself from his arms so that James sat behind her, spooning her in the blanket for optimal de-thawing.
“How is our son?” Lily asked, letting her head rest against James’ shoulder and shutting her eyes. She felt the cool wood of the steps of their house turn into a grassy field by the Great Lake as a memory of them soaking up the first spring day of the year bubbled up into her mind.
“Out like a light— Harry too,” James smiled. “Sirius insisted on putting him to sleep and I found them on the rocking chair in Harry’s room. Harry had his thumb stuck in his mouth and Sirius was snoring like a fog horn. If our kid can sleep though that, there’s nothing he can’t handle. Trust me. It took me three months in the dormitories to get used to Sirius’ sleeping habits.” James laughed, taking a drag from the cigarette before putting out the nub on the steps they sat on, “Remus and Peter were both passed out on the floor, too. Good thing, too. I don’t think any of them have gotten a decent sleep in months.”
Lily rested her head against his body, pressing herself into him and feeling for a moment as if they were out of time, out of space, untethered to everything except for this moment as they sat on the cold step together looking out into a world that didn’t even know that they existed.
“James.”
“Lily.”
“Do you ever wonder if…” she trailed off, not knowing where to start or which question she never wanted answered to be spoken aloud and outside of her own thoughts. “If what we’re doing… If it’s enough.”
She didn’t phrase it as a question, but that didn’t matter. James knew. James always knew. Maybe it was something in the cold night air, or the state of having just woken up, but James didn’t shift or falter or deflate even slightly as he responded. “All the time.”
A silence passed through them. The night air began to still as the only sign of movement was the synchronized rise and fall of their chests as they breathed in and out.
He was right. That thought had haunted them more than once, but now as they sat together with only the air they breathed and the warmth of their bodies passing between them, the thought dissolved into the night. There were a total of six bodies, and the cat, that were protected, secure, and so very loved. If they were okay for the next week, the next, day, or even the next hour, then for those moments all of their efforts would be enough.
“Remember that day in Transfiguration,” Lily started, gazing at the cat that still had not moved from its position on the driveway, “when you thought one of the feathers we had to turn into rats was Peter and you, Sirius, and Remus spent the whole afternoon talking to every rat, testing every spell, and looking at every feather until he turned up at dinner having slept the day away?”
“Oh no, please no,” James moaned, letting his forehead rest on her shoulder. “That was horrid. We were so worried, and that git had the nerve to ditch the lesson that day,” James mumbled. “Could’ve sworn he went into the room with us. He was there for breakfast.”
“It was the perfect lesson to miss to avoid the problem entirely. Peter was clever enough to save you from going through all the extra work, and yet there you were.”
“Hush, Lily dearest. There’s no room for logic and reason here. He led his poor friends to worry about him the whole time and there he was being clever and dodging the mess entirely.”
“Oh yes, what a burden having a friend try to rid you of trouble. But of course, you four were born into trouble. It might as well be your middle names.”
“That’s right,” James grinned. “James ‘Trouble ‘Fleamont Potter at your service.”
Lily laughed, throwing her head back and letting it rest on James’ shoulder. “That’s awful.”
“Awful?” James adjusted his seating so that he could stare directly at Lily. “That’s rich coming from Mrs . James ‘Trouble’ Fleamont Potter.”
“I guess we’re just doomed to be awful together,” Lily said, smirking.
“There’s no one else I’d rather be awful with,” James said punctuating it with a final kiss before pulling himself up to his feet and extending his hand out to help Lily up. Taking a hold of his hand, and the empty wine glass, Lily stood up and James wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “Except for the Marauders, of course.”
“Don’t worry,” Lily said, turning around and wrapping her arms around James’ torso so that the blanket shrouded them both, if only partially. “The more in this awful family, the merrier. I’d never separate you from your true loves after all.”
James bent down and pressed a kiss at the top of Lily’s head. They both stood there in the cold January night, relaxed in each other’s embrace and looked out into the street and watching the cat that still stood with its back towards them, dutifully guarding their home.
“Do you think Minnie asks the cat to do that?” James asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.
Lily watched the back of the cat, waiting for it to make any move or sign that it was aware of their gaze. After a few moments, the cat stood and began to roam across the lawn, unaware of anything except for the world it occupied in its head.
“Of course. With five troublemakers in the house, no one could bare to leave us alone together. But not Harry. He’s an angel. Maybe the ‘trouble’ gene will skip his generation and Minnie can finally get a break once he’s on his way to Hogwarts,” Lily said, imagining a grown up Harry with unmanageable hair beaming down at the two of them from the Hogwarts Express for his first year. James would make sure he had all the courage he needed to try out for the Quiddich team, and she would straighten out his hair before giving up and messing it up all over again. ‘It adds character,’ she would say, looking down at a child who would be protected and loved, safe from the horrors of war and destruction because everything they did would have been enough.
“Doubt it. What’s life without a little trouble?” James asked, looking down at Lily and grinning as wide as he could. It was that smile, that bright smile that could part the clouds on even the rainiest day that kept Lily going. Sometimes it felt as if a single smile could put an end to the whole war.
“Right. Let’s go inside then and get that cat something to eat,” James said, giving a vague gesture of a salute to the cat that paid neither of them any mind, “It looks like it has a long night ahead.”
Lily hummed in response, glancing back at the cat before walking inside the house together.
“Speaking of trouble, you and Sirius said you were going to take down the Christmas lights. At this rate they’ll still be up by next Christmas, Lily said, letting the door shut behind her with a soft click.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” James responded, “Where’s your Christmas cheer?”
“It’s January.”
The cat continued circling around the house, walking every which way before finally making its way inside the home and going to the smoldering fireplace where a dish of food and water sat out beside the couch where the sleeping forms of a red head and a raven haired lay sleeping beside each other. The cat ate its food swiftly and quietly before hopping onto the chair beside the couch and curling into a ball.
And all was well.