The Prophecy

James and Lily Potter sat quietly in the den of their house. The last rays of the sunset drifted through the room, blanketing them in shadows. Neither of them made any effort to illuminate the room as it sank into darkness. Neither of them was doing much of anything else for that matter. The most either one of them had done since they returned home was sitting down in silence and desperately make a grab for each other's hands.

They were numb in shock at what Dumbledore had told them. It had sounded so absurd to hear him say it that if they hadn't both held him in such high regard then they probably would have called him insane to his face. Now they simply sat there in simmering darkness and silence, and wondered their unspoken questions to themselves.

Their child, their unborn child, their unborn SON would be, he could be, the one to vanquish Voldemort. Their son could be the one to put an end to the darkness that was slowly suffocating the land and shrouding their world in unending despair. They had watched and listened carefully as their former headmaster had replayed his memory of the prophecy in his pensieve. It was all so brutally crystal clear; it was all so brutally horrible. They both prayed it wasn't them. They prayed that it wasn't their son that was called upon to do this thing. It was all too much for one person; it was too enormous a cross to bear for one young child to do when he had yet to even see the light of day.

They knew their unborn child was not the only possible savior of the wizarding world. Frank and Alice Longbottom were expecting as well. And it could quite easily be them that would give birth to this wizarding messiah that Dumbledore has told them of. Could they be so brutal as to wish something so immense and yet so offensively obscene onto their friends? Knowing it would drive their friends to a lifetime of hiding and isolation until their child was old enough to fulfill his ordained fate? Could they do it? Did they have that strength? To cut themselves off from all the people they cared about?

James struggled to maintain some outward semblance of calm. They had buried both sets of parents only a few short months ago. All four of their parents had been victims of Death Eaters. They had become victims because their children chose to fight back. He had been fearful for his wife's health, and for her pregnancy. She was just now slowly getting back to a degree of normalcy. What would this do to her?

Hadn't they done enough already? They had already sworn to risk their lives, and had achieved that on several occasions. But now they were being asked to sacrifice their child? Sacrifice their son? Ask their child to potentially give up his life before he'd even had a chance to live it? Lily sighed and buried her face in her husband's shoulder. They'd already given up their parents to the cause. Buried friends who had died too young, and had already seen their world torn apart. Wasn't all that enough? How much more would they have to give?

"The old fool! He finally got his revenge for all those pranks I played at school." James said with a hollow laugh in his voice.

"Yes, he certainly did." Lily smirked, "But did you have to drag me down with you?" She readjusted herself so that she lay across the length of the sofa and her head now rested in her husband's lap.

"I'm sorry, Lily, this isn't anywhere close to what I expected or hoped. For you, or for any of us." James looked down at his wife, memorizing once again, and with care, every feature of her beautiful face. His eyes silently pleading for some sign that everything would indeed work out.

"I know." Lily replied, "I don't think this is something anyone could possibly want. For themselves, or for anyone else."

The room proceeded to sink into complete darkness as the last fleeting rays of the sun sank below the horizon. The murky gloom permeated both the house and their spirits.

"I wonder if he's told Frank and Alice yet," James said to noone in particular. The silence of the room had slowly become comforting in a rather macabre, fashion.

"I hope not. Alice isn't having the easiest of pregnancies to begin with. And you know how Frank's mother can be." Lily said, a trace of exhaustion creeping into her voice.

"Neither have you, luv, but I know what you mean. From what Frank was telling me, if Alice's cravings are any indication; then they're going to have one powerful little wizard on their hands." James said as he gently rubbed Lily's arm.

"At least Alice won't have to worry about Frank taking him up on a broom right after he's born. Thank heavens for her, Frank never had any inclination for playing Quidditch." Lily said, failing to stifle a giggle.

"And what pray-tell is wrong with Quidditch? It's a very noble sport. It's been played for centuries." James said, glad to see they could at least take some small measure of relaxation in jesting with one another.

"Nothing dear. But as I seem to remember, you spent a good number of nights in the hospital wing after your matches." Lily smiled to herself. She always knew how to rile him up.

"Ah, and you'd know that wouldn't you? I always knew you had feelings for me. I always knew you noticed!" James said in mock indignation.

"Actually, I was merely grateful for those rare quiet nights in the common room so I could get some studying done." Lily smiled to herself at this. "Now show your pregnant wife some courtesy, and get her some banana ice cream." Lily said, looking up at him and fluttering her eyelashes.

"Your wish is my command milady." James said with a flourish. And he carefully extricated himself from propping up his wife's head, and went into the kitchen, illuminating the room as he walked across it. A minute later he returned with a spoon and a tub of ice cream, his wife eager to begin guzzling through it like so much warm tea.

"It'll get better Lily. I know it will." James said with sudden firmness and authority in his voice.

"I know it will. The cravings will go away after the baby is born." Lily replied between digs at the ice cream.

"That too, but I meant the war." James couldn't help but grin at his wife's retort, "It'll end eventually, even if it is us. I mean even if it is our son that the prophecy was referring to." James said, his hand reaching out to capture his wife's.

"I know. It's just unnerving knowing what might be ahead of us. What if it is us? We'll have to go into hiding; we'll have to be alone. It's not fair! He'll only be a baby, he shouldn't have to grow up with something like this floating over his head." Lily was crying now, the tub of ice cream discarded on the floor, forgotten.

"Shhh, it's ok love. It's ok. It will work out, I promise. You won't be alone; you won't ever be alone. I promise. We'll make it work. And if it is him, well, then that's what's meant to be and wishful thinking or desperate pleading won't change it." James said as he gathered his wife in his arms and held her close as she sobbed out her tears.

"But James..." Lily was pleading now...

"He'll have a normal childhood just like every other boy. And he'll have lots of brothers and sisters to keep him company." James couldn't help but smile at this. Having been an only child had had its advantages, but it had been decidedly lonesome until Sirius had come to stay with his family for vacations from school.

"Well, if you say so. But you better promise me several daughters Potter, or I'll be obliged to take drastic action to correct the situation. I'm not turning into another Molly Weasley!" Lily had an unnerving twinkle in her eye as she said this.

"Oh? How so woman? Do your worst." James shot back, daring her to continue.

"How does Lily Black sound? Or better still, Lily Pettigrew?" Lily laughed as she said these names and continued more but was soon interrupted by her husband tickling her sides, which were very tender and vulnerable to this tactic due to her swollen belly. "Enough!" Lily cried as the tickling continued.

"I love you Lily." James said with sudden seriousness, but Lily couldn't miss the desperation in his voice, "I love you and I always will. And I'll always be with you. I promise."

"James?" Lily was suddenly very nervous, her body trembling as she pressed herself against her husband's body.

"I just want you to know, I love you. And even if this stupid prophecy does come true and it is our son, I won't ever regret for an instant how I feel about you or the fact that I want to spend my entire life with you." James told his wife, once again gathering her up into his arms.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Lily could only lie there and feel her husband wrap his arms around her. It was part of why she loved him; when he was so dependable and loving, taking time to reassure her of his feelings, yet at the same time gently remind her of his insecurities. "So what are we going to name this unborn son of ours? We still haven't decided on one?" she asked him, trying to calm the situation down.

"So, what did we narrow boys names down to again? Harry or Mark?" James asked her. She simply nodded her head to signal her agreement. "How about Harry?" James inquired.

"Hmm, it does sound like a slightly stronger name, just so long as he doesn't get your hair, or your eyesight." Lily teased.

"There's nothing wrong with either of those, you wench." James retorted, and smiled down at his wife's shadow covered face.

"Sure, you say that now, but when you step out of the shower in the morning..." Lily teased.

James scoffed, and they once again settled down into a somewhat tenuous, yet marginally more comfortable silence.

"Harry Potter, get ready to meet the world, because it's certainly getting ready to meet you." Lily Potter said, staring down at her pregnant belly. She prayed that any formal introductions wouldn't happen for many, many years but dreadfully afraid it would come all too soon instead; her terrible fears not withstanding.

Sixteen months later, her fears were given a very brutal, very real form.