A Hero Born

"They've been saying that you're a hero born, going to see the Emperor to become a General. But I know that you're bound for a visit to your grandmother." - Roarke, "A Hero Born" by Michael A. Stackpole.
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James Potter was warm, happy. He felt safe, like he was a child again, tucked in under the comforters of his bed.

"James?" a voice issued out of the night. "James, you awake?"

"Yeah," he replied groggily to his wife, pretending that he had just woken. "What?"

"Bad dream," she replied, and rolled closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, comfortingly.

"What happened?"

"I - don't know," Lily admitted softly, butting her head against his chin to force him to let her rest it on his chest. "It was about someone who looked like you. A little boy, though, like you were only twelve or so, with green eyes. And he was - he was facing someone else, someone who was bad - " she shuddered. "James, what if it's about the baby?"

"He's not even born yet, Lil," James admonished. "Don't start making things up that aren't there. It'll only make things worse for you."

"I know." She closed her eyes, sighed. "I did think that the boy that looked like you won, whatever it was."

Comforting thought, muttered James. If it is the baby - yeah, my kid will be fighting the forces of evil in twelve years. So what's yours doing? he thought to himself, not quite sure who he was talking to. "Then even if it was about the kid, he will be all right," he said firmly, planting a kiss on Lily's temple. "You don't need to worry about it, hon. Just go back to sleep." He put a hand on her stomach protectively and tried to drift off, ignoring the early-morning sun seeping in through drapes.

My baby. Born to be a hero, he thought to himself. It must be just a dream. Nothing to worry about. But somewhere there was a naggling in his mind, telling him not to believe it. It's only been a month since we found out about the child. It's not more than a fetus, living off of Lil. It's not even decided on a sex yet. No more than a bundle of cells. It can't possibly be decided on as a male, as a hero.

James slept, not paying any more attention to the unsettling dream, simply letting himself go. It was impossible, and Lily had never been a Divinator.

Slightly less than thirteen years later, Harry Potter stood in the Chamber of Secrets, facing down Tom Riddle. And he somehow knew that it was fated. He was a hero born.

-----finis 1/1