Emeraude

Emeraude

Before they were Harry's eyes, they belonged to Lily.

The silence that arrived with the setting of the sun that night was heavy; thick, and painfully unmarred. It was the sort of silence nobody dared break, for fear of that for which it was a careful prelude. Words needed not be spoken, sounds needed not me made. The silence, unpleasant in every sense, was deafening.

Lily Potter tossed fitfully in her bed, wrapping the quilt this way and that, and finally discarding it altogether with a swift kick. Sleep had evaded her that night. Beside her, her husband James slept serenely; every now and again he would shift slightly, but his eyes remained closed, his breath shallow.

Something wasn't right. Even as Sirius and Peter assured their safety upon a hurried visit just that afternoon, Lily knew. It had been weeks since her heart beat at its regular pace. Reports of the Dark Lord's massacres were becoming more and more frequent, each worse than the one before. Time was running out.

She regarded James for a moment, torn apart between allowing him the sleep he had so needed for the past twenty-four hours, or rousing him to keep her from her own outlandish fear. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed midnight, causing her to jerk and a squeak of surprise left her lips.

"Lily?" James croaked, propping his head on his hand. A wave of relief flooded over her, but it was soon replaced with regret of ever thinking to wake him. "Lily, are you all right?"

"Yes, James. I'm- I'm fine. Just...startled..." She sat upright in bed and covered her face. It was then that she discovered a thin layer of cold sweat had gathered on her forehead. Wiping it away, she turned to face her husband. "It's okay, James. Go back to sleep."

"You're not fine."

"I am."

"No, you're not. Please, Lily, talk to me." He gathered her in his arms. His hazel eyes searched her green ones, and she spoke.

"I'm scared...so, so scared. Every day another slaughter. One in London, the next in Surrey, each one coming closer and closer, and it's only just a matter of time before he shows up on our doorstep. I try to be strong. For you, for Harry; and Harry, oh, my poor Harry... he's so young, and I- I just can let him see how much of a coward his mother is." Lily swallowed a lump in her throat, watching as James reached out to her, catching a tear from her cheek with his thumb. It was only then did she realize she had begun to cry.

"Do you ever think about it?" she asked wanly, tracing a haphazard line on James' bare chest.

"About what?"

"The future..."

"Well, yeah. All the time."

"And..."

"And I'm hoping it won't include Sirius in the possession of half a dozen bottles of Ogden's," he said, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile: James had never been one to overlook a chance at humor.

Lily rolled her eyes to hide the amusement she herself felt as she recalled the night's earlier events. "You're the one who sent them to him, and that's not what I meant."

"I didn't intend for him to drink them all at once," James said, shrugging. Lily stole a moment to observe his tired face, and, sighing, she buried her head into the crook of his arm. At length, he continued. "I don't know, Lily...about the future. I guess the only thing we've got to do is wait and see. The Order, they're-"

"He's going to find us. I'm sure of it."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean; Voldemort, he's going to find us."

"That's impossible, Lily. The only ones who know where we are will never...Peter would never. Don't talk that way."

Suddenly, and without reason, something bubbled within Lily and she spat, "Let's not kid ourselves, James."

"What is this, Lily?"

"I'm sorry, James, I'm sorry..." Her voice cracked, returning to the whisper it had previously been. James tightened his embrace, pulling her so close to him that their hearts beat as one. "I think about things sometimes... And I look at you, and Harry...and I don't know... A mother is supposed to protect her child."

"You've done everything you can- the charm, the Aetas Pactum. Dumbledore assured us that it would keep him safe."

"Yes, but is it enough? Is it ever enough? Did we go far enough? Quick enough? Are we concealed enough?" The tears she had fought to hold at bay sprang forth, making several glistening paths down her ashen cheeks.

James once again wiped them away, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. "I never wanted this for any of us," he said, and then, pensively, "You don't suppose you'd want to leave me while you still have the chance? Take Harry and disappear?"

"No, James...that's ridiculous," she mumbled into his chest.

"You want to know something, Lil?"

"What's that?"

"Sometimes I wonder what your life would be like if you'd turned me down; if you'd have told that bloody git James Potter just where to stick his proposal." James chuckled. "But do you want to know something else?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't think I could've gotten this far if you had."

"Oh...James..."

James' body was warm against hers. There wasn't an inch of space between them; they fit together perfectly, just as they always had. All of a sudden, sleep didn't seem so far from feasible, and Lily's eyelids began to fall. Comfortable stillness settled over them, drawing both closer to sleep.

A cry rose from down the hall, shattering the silence.

"Harry!" Lily flinched, and quickly reached for her wand, which was currently stored in the drawer of her bedside table.

"No wands, Lily," James prompted, sliding on his own glasses. She struck a match, lighting a nearby candle, and hurried out the door with James in close procession. The baby's cries became louder and more persistent as they threw open Harry's bedroom door and bent over his crib.

"Shhh...quiet, love..." Lily cooed, scooping him up in her arms. "Mummy's here, mummy's here..." As two pairs of emerald eyes met, Harry's howls ceased abruptly. "That's right, love...shhh."

James regarded his wife and son for a moment, before planting a kiss on the top of each of their heads; first Lily's scarlet one and then Harry's jet black one.

Setting Harry gently back into his cradle, Lily couldn't help but stare at her now smiling child. His sparkling emerald eyes- her eyes- gazed up at her, a reflection of her very self in their radiant depths. In those eyes she was not a failure nor a coward, but a mother, and that was all she needed to be.