31st October 1981 – 6:35pm
‘Halloween is more fun in our world.’
Harry took no notice of his father’s pronouncement, and simply bounced a little more determinedly in his arms.
He was pressed against the glass of the window as his father held him up, his eyes round as they took in the sight of Halloween being celebrated – if one could call it that - in the small village of Godric’s Hollow; Harry’s interest could be engaged with something as simple as a dead leaf, but James was distinctly unimpressed with the lack of festivities.
A few children in costume ran past from time to time, and there were definitely a few pumpkins in nearby windows, but by and large, Halloween was passing largely unmarked before their eyes.
Not that the Potter house was doing much better at marking what was a very important event in the magical world – the little family was beginning to show the wear of so much time locked away from the world, and neither James nor Lily could summon up the energy or inclination to produce decorations.
James had considered it – he could transfigure a pumpkin easily enough, and if he made some paper bats Lily could charm them to fly….he’d thought of so many things, and each time he had he’d come to the same conclusion – why bother?
There really didn’t seem to be much point in anything anymore.
Lily joined him in the window, and his arm automatically found its way around her shoulders, Harry held tightly between them as they stared out at a world they were beginning to think they’d never re-join.
Recognising the movement of her shoulders as yet more silent sobbing – he’d become proficient at spotting the signs of her depression by now – he did the only thing he could and held his family tighter.
31st October 1982 – 4.45am
The sound of boots crunching across grass crisp with autumn frost alerted James to the presence of another person in the cemetery. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be here – Halloween wasn’t traditionally a day for visiting graves at the best of times, and before sunrise certainly wasn’t most people’s idea of the appropriate time. It wasn’t his idea of an appropriate time either, in all honesty, but he hadn’t been able to sleep at all – Merlin knew, his sleeping pattern had been rough for a while now, but last night had been the worst for a long, long time.
It had been a year, a full twelve months since the events that meant he – and Lily, and Harry – had been able to venture out into the world again, finally safe.
A year of counting the cost.
The footsteps came closer, and James’ hand clenched tighter on his concealed wand. It might have been a year since he’d been officially in danger, but you didn’t live under that kind of storm cloud for as long as he had without it leaving marks. Scars, really.
Lily knew that better than anyone. Which was why she walked directly around to his side, where he could clearly see who she was, and that she held no wand – old habits died hard.
She knelt down alongside him, one arm snaking around his waist in a motion honed over years, and smiled wistfully at the headstone in front of them, that marked the grave of their truest friend. ‘Hi Sirius. Happy Halloween.’
She remembered the funeral like it was yesterday; James had spoken to Andromeda, the only cousin Sirius had had any time for, and they’d agreed to bury him next to James’ parents, in the little cemetery that served both muggles and magical folk in the small village of Little Somerfield. One more tiny act of defiance towards the Black family, and a too-small gesture of filial love and respect for the brother who’d taken the secret of their location to the grave, safeguarding his godson’s life with his own.
It was believed that Voldemort had delivered the killing curse himself – neither James nor Lily doubted that Sirius would have been grimly proud of that. It had taken several days for the news to sink in, coming as it did on the heels of Voldemort’s defeat at the hands of Dumbledore. They could only be thankful that their new found and hard-won freedom had allowed them the comfort of their other friends.
‘I still can’t believe it.’ James’ voice was hoarse, the effort of not crying making his words sound strangled. ‘It’s been a year, and I still look for him. I keep finding his stuff all over the house, I keep staring at that bloody motorcycle in the garage like he’s going to appear from behind it any minute. And Harry, Harry drags around that bloody cuddly black dog like it’s his lifeline and I can’t bear it Lil, I can’t bear it…’
And then she couldn’t hear anything but the sound of her husband sobbing over his brother’s grave, and she did the only thing she could – she wrapped her arms around him, and cried with him.
31st October 1985, 8.12pm
‘Available to any student whose parent cannot, or will not, support them during their time at Hogwarts - the Sirius Black Hardship Fund!’
Cheers from the crowd almost drowned out the end of Dumbledore’s announcement, and James couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he looked down at his beaming wife.
‘You’re right – this is perfect. The best thing we could have done in his name.’
‘I am known to be quite clever from time to time.’ She replied archly, smiling fondly at her husband even as she restrained Harry from running off into the crowd; he’d become a little too curious for his own good, and had a habit of wandering off to find interesting things. She dreaded sending him to Hogwarts, knowing that he’d likely manage to get into even more trouble than his father had.
‘I am very well aware of that, love.’
James pulled his wife and son into a hug, and held onto them tightly – these precious things of his that his best friend had defended beyond his last breath - until a polite cough indicated that it was time for the people responsible for endowing the Sirius Black Hardship Fund to mingle with the crowd.
Half an hour later Lily managed to drift back to her husband, who was standing to one side of the room watching Harry play with young Neville Longbottom and his mother.
‘Cute.’ She commented as she watched Harry tag Alice. ‘It’s good to see Alice out. Losing Frank hit her so hard.’
James nodded. ‘I know. It’s good to see everybody…healing, I suppose.’
It had taken a long time for the Potters to feel able to spend time at social gatherings. They’d both thought that they’d been so deprived of others during their time locked away that they’d crave company as soon as they were able to get it – in fact, the opposite had been true. Crowds made them nervous; parties were unbearable.
For two such previously gregarious people, it had been a shock and a source of shame. It had taken them a long time to come to terms with the fact that they had not, after all, come through the war unscathed. But they’d worked hard at it, they’d given themselves both time and space, and now they were enjoying a gathering of people all celebrating the life of someone that they both loved beyond measure.
Progress was a wonderful thing, even if it was attained in small steps.
31st October 1987, 6.10pm
‘Harry! Harry, come on, we’re going to be late!’
Lily rested one hand on the newel post as she hollered up the stairs at her son. She paused for a moment, then opened her mouth to yell again but was forestalled by thunderous footsteps as her seven year old barrelled down the stairs.
She surveyed Harry carefully, then turned her head and shouted for her husband.
‘James! James Potter, are you mad? Your son cannot go trick or treating like this.’
James appeared from the kitchen, his hands full of wriggling one year old. ‘His costume isn’t the problem Lil – I can’t get this one into this pumpkin thingy.’
Lily sighed. ‘Pass her over.’
James grinned and handed his daughter over, complete with pumpkin costume dangling from one leg. Lily smiled at her daughter and sat down on the hallway floor to work her into the puffy costume.
‘There we go baby girl! James, please do something about Harry.’
He surveyed his handiwork. ‘Looks good to me Lil.’
‘It’s too good James, and that’s the problem.’ Lily rose gracefully from the floor, fully costumed daughter held in front of her, taking a moment to stick her tongue out in childish triumph over her husband. ‘I said, make Harry a nice costume. What you have done, is transfigure our son to look like a troll.’
‘And he looks great!’ James pointed out. ‘Look, I got all the fangs, and the warts, and the overhanging brow and everything!’
‘And what happens when someone asks him to take his mask off?’ Lily asked pointedly.
James paused for a moment. ‘We tell them it’s glued on?’
‘Uh huh, okay.’ Lily responded. ‘And how will we be explaining the claws?’
‘We tell people I work in special effects for movies?’
‘They all think that you’re an accountant.’
James pouted. ‘Come on Lily, he’s going to have the best costume around! I’ll obliviate anyone who ask too many questions, how about that?’
Spotting his wife’s lips twitch, James knew he’d nearly won this one. So he played dirty.
‘What does Serene think, huh?’ He scooped their daughter from Lily’s arms and swung her around until she giggled. ‘You want to let Harry go out in his awesome costume, that your daddy had to research in three different books, don’t you?’
‘Fine.’ Lily knew when she was outgunned. ‘But I’m not pulling any strings at the Ministry if you get caught using magic on muggles.’
James leaned over to plant an exuberant kiss on her hairline as he continued to twirl Serene around; Harry pretended to vomit.
‘That’s okay Lil, I’ll get Moony to do it.’
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