Duet Del Cuore et Dell'Anime: a Songfic in Two Parts

Duet Del Cuore et Dell'Anime

...A songfic in two parts

~~~

It had started out bad and gone to worse. James had made fun of the way Lily decorated the Christmas tree. Lily had snapped and barked at him about something. Now, fifteen minutes later, they were in full shouting mode.

"I can't believe you'd say something like that!"

"Your problem is you're too sensitive. Lighten up, I was just teasing you!"

"Find a sense of humour that doesn't involve making fun of me, then! You are such an arse...I can't think why I ever agreed to marry you."

"I can't think why I ever asked you! You've given me nothing but headaches, you...you...bitch!"

"Don't talk that way in front of our baby!" Lily screamed.

The baby in question stirred sleepily and rolled over on his blanket. Lily glared daggers at her husband. "I bet you'd be happier if we just up and left, wouldn't you? Well, fine." She scooped her small son, blanket and all, off the floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" James snapped.

"I'm going to Penny's for Christmas," Lily shot at him. "If you don't want us around, she might."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Lily stormed out the door, slamming it hard behind her. James heard the car door slam and the unmistakable sounds of the tires of a 1963 Aston Martin DB5 peeling out of their driveway. James stood motionless for a few moments, staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree, then grabbed his keys and scrambled into his Ford Prefect, jammed the key into the ignition, and started the car.

~~~

Lily sighed as she sped down the road. Every once in a while she glanced in the rear-view mirror, but Harry stayed asleep. She shook her head, wondering how he could manage to sleep through all the shouting his parents had been doing. Little kids must sleep like rocks, she thought fondly. I'd give anything to be able to escape all the yelling like that...

Her windshield wipers were going about a mile a minute, brushing snow off the front window. She had her headlights on, but she wasn't really watching the road. Anyway, it's Christmas Eve. Nobody's going to be out on the road on a night like this.

She thought about the fight she'd just had with James. It was by no means their first fight, even since their marriage--even since Harry's birth almost five months before--but it was the first time she'd ever walked out on James; usually he walked out on her, going to work or to the flat Sirius and Remus shared. Usually Morrie was there too, and she'd come over to sit with Lily and hold her while she cried.

James didn't often leave angry anymore. Back in April--before Harry was born, shortly before James's twenty-first birthday--he had left for work mad at her after a fight. He almost hadn't made it home...he'd been injured in an explosion at a florist's shop. They had vowed after that they would never go to bed or leave for work angry at one another. On the rare occasions he did--or when he drove over to his friends' flat--he usually called her as soon as he got there, or when he was ready to leave, to let her know he was all right and that he was sorry. But this was the first time Lily had walked out on him. Like as not it was because she was so hormonal...it was probably Post-Partum Depression or something.

All these thoughts buzzed around in her brain. And then it happened. One minute she was driving down the road...

...The next, she was screaming as she skidded across the roadway. She'd hit a patch of black ice, and she was going so fast she had lost traction. Panicked, she slammed on the brakes, once, twice, thrice, but the brakes didn't take. Frightened, she let go of the steering wheel, threw them into the air, and turned her head away from the windshield. She covered her face in her hands, peeped out between her fingers, saw the dark trees looming on the edge of the street, and screamed again.

She bit her lip hard. God protect us! she thought frantically. If not me, then take care of Harry! My baby is five months old...he's too little to die! It's my fault he's in this mess...please, God, Jesus, whoever's listening, take this wheel out of my hands!

Lily closed her eyes tightly. She had seen the trees getting closer and no sign of stopping. She was sure they were both going to die.

After a long, agonising moment, she suddenly felt the car stop. We hit a tree...we died, we died, we did, we died...After a second, she dared to open one eye.

They hadn't hit a tree. They hadn't hit anything. Somehow, miraculously, the car had rolled to a stop.

Lily gripped the wheel tightly, taking a moment or two to breath deeply. Suddenly she remembered her passenger and whirled around so fast she almost got whiplash. Harry was still in his carseat, his little head leaning on his little shoulder, not moving. After a moment, however, he sighed deeply, contentedly, and transferred his head to his other shoulder. Lily almost cried out of relief.

Turning back to the front, Lily switched off the car and leaned her forehead on the steering wheel. "We could've been killed," she said aloud. "But we weren't..."

She didn't delude herself. She knew exactly who had saved her. Taking a deep breath, she drew her hands together and folded them beneath her forehead. "God," she prayed fervently, "thank You. Thank You for our lives. I know it must be hard for You to love someone like me, when I've been such a bad wife and a bad mother, but thank You for saving my life anyway. I know I need to do something to change...I only hope I have the time. Please, God, if You're listening...please give me another chance. I know I don't deserve it, but...please...just one more chance?"

"Ma-ma?"

The words were soft and sleepy. Lily whirled around again. Harry had woken up; he was blinking his big green eyes at her sleepily, looking confused. "I'm here, baby," she assured her son. A moment later it hit her. "Harry! You're talking! You just said your first words!"

She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached back to hug her son. "Mummy's so proud of you, baby!"

Harry didn't hug her back; he almost seemed to back away. He looked at her with reproachful eyes. "Da-da?"

"Oh, Harry, that's two words!" Lily gushed. "I'm so very proud of you!" All of a sudden, Harry's statement hit home. Wait a minute. He's talking for a reason. That wasn't a statement...that was a question. Or...or was it an order? Wait...is this my second chance?

"Ma-ma?"

Lily straightened up and looked towards the roof of the car. "All right," she said aloud. "I can take a hint." She put the car in gear, pulled cautiously out onto the roadway, and did a U-turn. Once over the patch of black ice, she smiled in the rear-view mirror at her son. "Come on, Harry. Let's go home."

~~~

~~~

James drove. He didn't have any particular destination; he almost never did. Usually he went to Sirius and Remus's flat or to work, although usually that was unconscious. However, going to either place would do him no good. The Law Offices of Potter, Potter, and Haphram were closed for Christmas, Sirius was probably out with Morrie, and Remus was doubtless at some bar nursing a single drink and feeling sorry for himself. With Shannon gone, he often felt lonely.

James stopped for a red light. Driving usually calmed him down as much as visiting his friends or filing paperwork did; the fact that his uncle tended to pass divorce cases on to him helped as well. Divorcing Lily was simply something he never considered, no matter how angry he got. At the moment, however, he felt like driving a stock car race wouldn't calm him down. I need a drink, he thought.

A moment later, as though in answer to his thoughts, a neon sign glowed at him: PUB. Nothing more than that. There were plenty of bigger places he could go to, but somehow James found himself pulling up to the curb in front of the small establishment.

James entered the small building. It contained a small counter, four barstools, and a single old man, wearily swiping at the counter with a rag. A radio behind him played Christmas carols softly. As James sat down, the bartender walked down the counter to him. "What'll it be?"

Having no experience with Muggle pubs and unsure what the man served, James simply risked answering, "I'll have some of the good stuff."

When the man didn't answer, James looked up. The old man was staring at James's left hand. James glanced down and realised the man was looking at his wedding ring. Slowly, the old man raised his eyes to James's. "Son," he said slowly, "that's something you can't buy in a bar. The 'good stuff' is the first time you kiss her...her mum standing on the front porch with a rolling pin when you get home late...having to propose twice because you were so nervous she couldn't understand you the first time..." He laughed a little. "Gettin' married and treadin' on thin ice your whole first year 'cause you're so afraid she'll leave if you say the wrong thing..."

"Praising her dinner even if she burnt the outside and didn't cook the inside at all," James smiled. Not that he'd had much experience with that; Lily was an extremely good cook.

The barkeep smiled. "You understand." He pulled a bottle of water out from under the counter and poured himself a glass, then tilted it towards James, who nodded.

The old man pulled a chair up behind the counter and sat down across from James. "Now, why don't you tell me why you're here on Christmas Eve without your wife?" He hesitated. "Or are you a widower?"

"No...no, my wife is alive," James answered. He looked down and twisted the ring slightly on his finger. "We...uh...we had a bit of a row." He sighed. "In the same way that the Pacific Ocean has a bit of water. I was teasing her...she took it the wrong way...next thing I knew we were yelling at each other. Finally it culminated in her declaring she was going to take our son and spend Christmas with her sister. Who hates us."

The bartender smiled in sympathy. "My Rosie and I had a few fights like that ourselves. First time was when our little girl was three...how old's your son?"

"Five months, almost exactly. It's his first Christmas." James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Which is why I'm feeling so guilty, I think. It's Harry's first Christmas...Lily and I ought to be together, ought to be making this a special occasion for him. For all I know it could be his last." He hesitated. "My...well, he's kind of like my brother...so I guess his brother is kind of like my brother...anyway, he and his wife had a baby last October. Cute little thing...a girl. But...well...she died back in August. Some sort of genetic disorder or other...but I know it's always a possibility. What if something happens to Harry...or to Lily...and this is our last Christmas together, and we're spending it fighting?"

The old man chuckled sadly. "You're young, son. You'll likely have other Christmases. Now, see..." He turned and pointed to a picture on the wall behind him. "That's my Rosie, taken on our first anniversary. We were married for a good...mmm...fifty-six years."

James whistled. "That's a long time with one person."

"It would have been a lot longer without her," the old man said softly. "But she died eight years ago...cancer. Son, I'm here to tell you, I became an alcoholic after I lost her...I was truly lost myself. But then one night, I had a dream, and there she was. She told me I was wasting my life and that I had better start taking care of myself, 'cause I wasn't done yet, I had a purpose in life and it wasn't to view the world through the bottom of a bottle. I've been sober three years now."

James raised his glass of water to salute the man. "Congratulations. That's quite an accomplishment."

"I learned it's important to remember the good times." The man leaned across the counter. "Now think, son. What's the most beautiful you've ever seen your wife?"

James thought for a long minute. He could think of many times Lily had looked lovely: their wedding, their first anniversary, the graduation ball, Regulus and Becca's wedding...but one time stood out sharply in his mind. "I've never seen her prettier," he said softly, "than I did July thirty-first, at eleven-thirty at night. I mean, she was dishevelled, she was exhausted, she was pale...but I'd never seen her prettier."

"Was that when your son was born?" the man asked with a smile. James nodded. "Yeah, I remember how Rosie looked when our kids were born...we had four, our daughter and three sons. I'd never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. And I bet your wife gets real happy when you give her presents...even if they're cheaper than they look."

"I gave her a false pearl necklace for our graduation dance," James remembered. "All the girls in her class told her they were fake, that they were worthless...but she said they were worth more to her than all the gold in Arabia, because I'd given it to her."

The old man chuckled. "My Rosie said almost the same thing about the cubic zirconium choker I bought her to wear when our youngest son got married. I tell you, though, your wife is going to be the proudest woman in the world the day she becomes a grandmother...and you'll be the proudest man to be a granddaddy. I know I was...wore that I'M A GRANDFATHER shirt until I wore it to holes. You will too...you'll see."

James smiled. "I sure hope so."

The man leaned over the counter. "You listen to me, son. I bet if you go home, your wife will be sitting on the porch or in the living room, or maybe she'll be on the telephone. She'll say she's sorry...and you tell her that you are too. Then you tell her you love her, that you never intend to leave her, and that she and your son are the only people in the world that matter to you. Trust me."

James bit his lip. "But how can you be sure she'll get in touch with me?"

"It's Christmas, son. That's the magic of Christmas."

James smiled again. "Thanks. How much do I owe you for the water?"

"On the house. Just tell your wife you love her."

"I will." James stood and started for the door, then stopped and turned around. "By the way...I didn't catch your name."

The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Paddy. Patrick Uric Brown. And yours?"

"It's James, James Potter. Nice to meet you, Paddy...and Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, James."

~~~

James pulled into the driveway and put the car into park, praying that Lily was all right and that she'd be on the phone when he got in. Sighing, he pushed the button for the garage door opener. Slowly, the garage door creaked open...and James froze. Sitting in the garage was a dark blue Aston Martin DB5.

Heart pounding in his chest, James closed the garage door, switched off the Ford Prefect, and practically flew to the house. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely fit his house key into the keyhole. Finally, however, he managed to get the door open.

Lily was sitting in the rocking chair, staring nervously out of the wrong window--the one facing the other end of the street from where James had approached. She started when she heard the creak of the door, then jumped to her feet. "James!"

"Lily!" James crossed the room in about two steps and caught her in his arms, sweeping her into a hug. Both of them were talking at once, trying to tell the other what had happened to them. After a few minutes, both of them were laughing.

Finally, Lily leaned her head on James's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she murmured.

James held her close. "So am I. I love you so much, Lily...I hope you know I'd never leave you. You and Harry...you're my whole world, you're everything I care about. I shouldn't have said those things to you." He looked down at her. "Forgive me?"

"Of course. Do you forgive me?"

"You don't even need to ask." James cuddled her closer. "I love you so much, Lily. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, James."

~~~