One Shot

     //"Isn't he beautiful?" Lily whispered, hanging over the small cot. Her son lay on his back, eyes closed, one small hand closed into a fist near his head and the other flat on his chest.

     "Absolutely," James agreed. He put an arm around his wife.

     "And he looks just like you," Lily continued, tucking Harry's blankets more firmly about his side.

     "But he has your eyes," James replied with a smile. Harry stirred a little, so they left, Lily leaving the door open a crack.

Downstairs, they curled up on the sofa.

     "Cup of tea?" James asked Lily, who was lying with her feet up and her head on his chest.

     "Yes, please." There was a noise from outside, a crash, and Lily sat up quickly.

     "What was that?"

     "Darling, it's ok," James insisted, taking Lily's shoulders. "He can't find us here. It's all right."

     Slowly, Lily relaxed. "You're right," she said. "I shouldn't get so worked up. We're protected here, and we can trust Peter absolutely."

I wouldn't say absolutely, James thought silently. It's more a matter of trusting Sirius. Out loud, he merely said, "Exactly, love. Now, how about that cup of tea?"//

     "Game of chess, Harry?"

     Harry looked up from the photo album. "What?" he asked, looking at Ron.

"Oh, sure." He closed the photo album on a picture of him with his parents.

     He'd been trying to imagine his parents, what they would look like now and how they would act. From pictures of him with his mother outside the house in Godric's Hollow, he had lovingly constructed his "other" life.

     "It must be hard, Harry," Hermione said softly as Harry pulled the box which contained his chessman from his trunk.

     "What?" Harry asked. "Playing against Ron? No way."

     "Oh, yeah?" Ron asked. "Then why do you always lose? I'm the chess champion here."

     "No, you're not," Hermione said. "I refuse to play. I meant losing your parents, Harry," Hermione murmured. "Don't you ever want to - I don't know. Do you ever wish you could just turn back time and have one shot at saving your parents?"

     "I've turned back time before," Harry said, referring to the incident in third year where they had helped Sirius escape.

     "Believe me, Hermione, however much I want it, the consequences might be too much for me to handle."

     "I guess so, but I'd like to see you say that when presented with the real opportunity," Hermione said, subsiding to read her schoolbooks and watch Harry and Ron's chess game.

     During a lull in the game, when Harry was contemplating his next move, Ron leaned over and snatched "Advanced Arithmancy" from Hermione's hands. She'd been using it to cover a piece of parchment she’d been writing on, and Ron read it now with interest.

     "Hermione, is this poetry?" Ron asked. "Why are you writing it?"

     "What's that?" Harry asked, and Ron, taking advantage of his distraction, shifted his knight safely out of range of Harry's bishop.

     "No, it's not poetry," Hermione muttered. "It's part of a song I promised to write out for Lavender."

     "It's Eminem," Harry said, reading the bit of paper in turn. "Dudley absolutely loves him, he borrowed the CD of Piers Polkiss."

     "CD?" Ron repeated blankly.

     "Don't worry," Harry said. "I don't mind his songs, and Aunt Petunia hated it. So Dudley hid the CD in my room, where Aunt Petunia found it. Of course, I got into trouble."

     "If you had on shot... or one opportunity... to seize everything you ever wanted... would you capture it... or just let it slip," Ron read.

     "Weird," was his judgment, and he lost interest, handing the paper back to Hermione.

     "Hurry up Harry, it's still your turn."

     Harry turned his attention to the board, and a heated argument soon broke out over the position of Ron's knight. Hermione shook her head with a smile, and turned her attention back to her schoolbook and the song she was writing out.