Brahms Lullaby

My son. My very own.

Even at his young age his hair was thick and dark. Just like his father. His brilliant green eyes were shut, and his tiny fingers were rolled up in a ball.

Was what I was feeling, right now, what they all whispered about? What they talked about secretly, all those women of the world? A mother's love?

I picked up little Harry from his crib, and he sighed softly, still deep in his dreams.

What was he dreaming about?

I know what I dreamt about. My dreams were not at all pleasant. They were mingled with death and fear, losing James and Harry.

Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight,

Harry was going to be special. I knew it. Every time I touched him, I felt it course through my veins. Did he know what part he was going to play? He was the key to everything. Did he know what effect he would have on the society?

Would he know his mother would always be proud of him? That I would love him no matter what he did, no matter what they thought?

Oh, Harry.

With lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed,

It was hard knowing you would die. Albus came to us; he told us Voldemort was out to kill Harry. My Harry.

I told Albus I would sacrifice myself for Harry, and James immediately told me to forget that thought. He would be the one to give his life for Harry.

That night I had cried in bed, and James had comforted me, Harry sitting in between us, confused. His green eyes looked from me, to James, then back to me again. Then he reached out both hands to us and James and I took him.

We had fallen asleep like that.

Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed,

I rocked Harry softly; James was in the next room.

My thoughts wandered for a second to James. How lucky I was to have him; each day I thanked God for him.

Would Harry find his one as easily as we did? Would he be as ignorant as I was as first?

Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed,

What would his wedding be like? I could only imagine. But I would.

There would not be many people; despite his popularity, he would not have many people come to his wedding. It would be simple, headed by Albus, in his bride's childhood home.

The house would be many stories and crooked, with pleasant childhood simplicity to it. The house would be decorated with many white flowers, a symbol of clarity and ease. They would have the ceremony in the garden, in the late afternoon. There would be a beautiful sunset, and the garden would be decorated with fairy lights.

Harry would be waiting nervously by Albus and his best man. His best man would be... his best friend. A guy named... Cedric...or Ron would be good. He would be a Weasley, same age as Harry, and Ron helped Harry fight his battles. Ron would be slightly edgy, because Harry was going to wed his little sister, his baby sister.

But Harry would be visibly sweating, while wondering whether or not he had made the right choice.

However, when the bride emerged on her father's hand, all his doubt was erased.

Lullaby and good night, thy mother's delight,

She would be wearing a beautiful white gown. Her flaming Weasley hair would be in curls, and Harry's mouth would be open as he watched her approach. Her father would give her to him without doubt, with ease.

The bride would exchange a glance at her bridesmaid, Harry's best friend, as well as hers. She would be in a simple, light pink dress. She would be Harry and Ron's friend in Hogwarts, one of the people who helped him through his years. But she was the bride's best friend too, the only girl the bride could confide in.

She would be very smart, a bookworm. They would meet on their very first train ride. Her name would be Hermie, a female version of Hermes, the Greek messenger god. She would be very shy as she stood beside the bride. Ron would be sneaking glances at her; both had harbored feelings for each other but neither had the courage to confess. She would catch his glances, but both would look away, blushes decorating both their cheeks.

The bride would be a proud girl, unaffected by Harry's fame and popularity. She would be the key to him, the key to helping him defeat Voldemort. She would be a carefree, fun-loving girl. Quidditch playing too. Most likely in Gryffindor, especially since she was a Weasley.

Albus would then guide them through their ceremony. It would be quick; he wasn't a man to linger. And then there would be automatic food and dancing afterwards.

Ron would make a toast to Harry and his wife. He was a naturally comical guy, and he would make a few people laugh with tears in their eyes.

After Ron, Hermie would make a toast. Hers was much more nostalgic, and lots of people smiled with thin smiles of remembrance, or cried tears of loss.

If only I could be there.

Bright angels beside my darling abide,

I just vaguely felt wet streaks down my cheeks, not realizing Harry's chubby hand had reached up to my cheek to catch the runny thing. When the water dissolved in his hand, he sighed disappointedly, and I felt more tears come rushing out.

Not long after, James was in front of me, embracing Harry and me. It was a sad sort of grip, like he knew what I had been thinking.

I was certain he could read my mind when he finally spoke.

"It's hard knowing you're going to die."

I was glad Harry had fallen asleep.

They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast,

There was a flash of green light, and he was my last thought.

They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast,

My Harry.