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A gaggle of ghosts and ghouls and unicorns and various singers, comic book characters, and Quidditch players throng the streets of Diagon Alley, all of them in miniature and all of them hyped up on too much sugar. Here and there they hold hands with parents and assorted adult guardians, but more often they scamper to and from shop doors, shrieking at enchanted pumpkins and grabbing sweets from the indulgent shopkeepers. A constant shower of orange glitter sparkles above their heads, and little skeletons dance atop the lampposts.
“Harry!” Lily’s hair is going prematurely gray, and it looks witchy and wonderful, especially in the glow of the streetlamps and jack-o-lanterns. Silver lines glisten amidst the red, all of it mussed as she runs her hand through it for the tenth time tonight. “Harry. Harry. Hang on for one second—yes, of course you can go say hi to the Weasleys with your brother, but your shoe is untied and I don’t want you to trip—James, can you—”
Harry’s father makes a grab for his son, but his mobility is limited as he is currently dressed as the back half of a hippogriff. Remus, who had categorically refused to participate in this two-person costume with Sirius no matter how many sexual favors Sirius offered, catches Harry by the back of his Seeker’s robes.
“All right, Harry, let’s get that shoe tied.” Remus kneels down on the cobblestones as Harry bounces impatiently.
“Say thank you to Uncle Remus,” Lily instructs, and then blushes heavily as Marlene McKinnon swoops in and winks at her. Dorcas Meadowes comes up behind her partner, their one-year-old daughter squirming in her arms. The girl’s pumpkin hat is askew and she makes grabby hands at Lily, who reaches out and pulls her close.
“Hi, pumpkin,” Lily coos. Marlene and Dorcas glance at each other, smiling, and Sirius cranes his head around to wiggle his eyebrows at James. Remus snorts. Marlene and Dorcas have been flirting with Lily for months now and Sirius is convinced they’re going to have to free up yet another bedroom in their already overstuffed house.
Harry’s off and running, jumping excitedly in front of the two youngest Weasleys, both dressed in homemade garden gnome costumes. A small green frog detaches himself from the little group, hops over to the adults, then takes off his mask to reveal a plump, worried face, pink with exertion and warmth.
“What’s wrong, love?” Lily passes Dorcas and Marlene’s daughter back to Dorcas and kneels down in front of Neville. Remus kneels too, and James and Sirius sort of crouch, which is the best they can manage in their costume.
Neville shuffles his feet and bites his lip. “You and Daddy James and Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus are going to be okay, right?”
A glance travels rapidly around their small circle, above the head of the little boy in their midst. “Yes, sweetheart,” Lily says, stroking Neville’s hair. “Are you worried because it’s Halloween?”
Neville nods.
“There’s nothing about today that’s special or scary, love.” James’ voice is quiet, and Sirius angles himself so James can meet Neville’s eyes. “There’s nothing to be frightened of anymore. There hasn’t been for a long time.”
“And we’ll take some time tonight, after trick-or-treat, to go to the cemetery and say hi to your mum and dad,” Remus says. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Neville replies softly.
“Go on, then,” Lily says. “Go have fun with your brother.”
Neville nods. “Okay. I will.”
Lily and James and Remus and Sirius stand in the middle of the crowded street, listening to children giggle and shriek, charmed paper bats swooping overhead, and take a quiet moment to think about all that had happened seven years ago, and all that might have, but didn’t. Lily adjusts Neville’s mask, slipping it back over his face, covering his smile and his lightning bolt scar, and Neville runs off into the night.