What Could Have Been

What if Halloween 1981 had never happened? What if Snape hadn't overheard the prophecy? What if there had been no prophecy at all? What if Voldemort had been defeated shortly after the Marauders graduated? This is the life that might have unfolded—a life that was never meant to be.

Harry Potter, now 22 months old, sat at his godfather's feet, contentedly playing with his stuffed stag. Today, Sirius Black was getting married—to none other than Marlene McKinnon.

James adjusted the robes on his best friend with a grin.

“Alright, it’s almost time,” James said, patting Sirius’s cheek affectionately. “Ready?”

Sirius groaned, glancing past James at the mirror. He was ready. He loved Marlene. She was the woman of his life. He wanted nothing more than to be with her. “I so want to fucking do this,” Sirius muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Fleamont, sitting behind on the couch with Remus and Peter, cleared his throat, his voice playful yet stern. “Language, Sirius,” he scolded, though his eyes twinkled with excitement. It was as if his second son was getting married.

Sirius smirked. “Sorry, Monty,” he said with a wink, before crouching down to Harry’s level. “What about you, buddy? Ready to bring the rings to me and Aunt Marly?” he asked, gently removing the dummy from Harry's mouth.

James looked down at his son, a soft smile crossing his face. He had warned Sirius that the day wouldn't be without its challenges—that there might be tears at the wedding. As best man, James would stand beside Sirius, while Lily would stand behind Marlene. But Harry, however, was meant to walk alone, all eyes on him—without his parents.

Harry looked up at Sirius for a moment, then nodded enthusiastically. “Hawy rings,” he declared with a wide grin.

James chuckled. “Well, we’ll see how that goes. You and Marls are warned, Padfoot. It might turn into a full-blown meltdown.” 

Sirius chuckled, straightening up. “I’ll take my chances,” he said with a grin.

Remus, who had been quietly observing, stood and adjusted his own robes. “Maybe it’s time to go?” he asked, glancing at his pocket watch.

“Yup, let’s head to the altar. Marls should be out in a few minutes,” James agreed, turning to look at his father. “Dad, maybe you could take Harry to Lily? He’ll walk in front of her and hand the rings over.”

Fleamont nodded with a warm smile. “Of course. Come on, buddy, let’s get you to your mummy.” He stood and walked over to Harry, who was still clutching his stuffed stag with both hands. Fleamont gently scooped him up, holding him close. “You’re going to look so handsome  up there, little one,” he whispered, earning a giggle from Harry as he wiggled in his grandfather’s arms.

James gave them a brief nod before turning to the Marauders. “Ready, Padfoot?” he asked.

Sirius straightened his posture, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s do this,” he said, though there was a slight tremble in his voice. The weight of the moment wasn’t lost on him.

Remus and Peter clasped his shoulder and together the four boys walked to the altar. 

Fleamont adjusted Harry on his hip and walked to the bride’s quarters knocking gently on the door before leaning in, his voice low but clear. “I know boys aren’t allowed back here, but I have a particularly cute one in my arms,” he said.

He heard a few steps, and a moment later, Lily opened the door, smiling warmly at her father-in-law. “Thank you for bringing him, Monty,” she said, taking Harry from his arms. “Hello, my love. Mummy missed you,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

Fleamont gave a small nod, stepping back to allow the women to prepare. “He’ll be the star of the show today, you’ll see.”

Lily chuckled, her eyes flicking toward the mirror as she adjusted Harry in her arms. “Marlene is looking too beautiful. Not even Harry can steal the show,” 

“I have no doubts,” Fleamont agreed, his eyes softening. 

He had watched her grow up—the Potters and the McKinnons had been intertwined for as long as he could remember. When Marlene’s parents had been murdered when she was just nine, Fleamont had tried his best to support them, especially as her eldest brother, Sebastian, took guardianship. 

To see her so happy now, standing at the brink of marriage, made his heart swell with pride for all she had achieved. 

“Well, I’ll let you be. Euphemia and I will be in the front row to catch Harry once he delivers the rings,” he said.

Lily smiled at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Monty,” she said, picking up Harry’s hand. “Say ‘see you, Grandpa’,” she cooed.

Harry giggled, waving his little wand in the air. “Bye-bye!” he said, his voice high and cheerful.

Lily chuckled softly at his excitement, then turned back into the chambers where her friends—Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary—were waiting. “Alright, I have the ring bearer in my arms,” she said with a grin.

Marlene, who had been adjusting her veil, looked down at Harry with a soft smile. “Alright, I’m ready then,” she said, standing tall and graceful in her dress. “Sebastian will walk me down. Harry will walk in front first. You girls are in front of me. Yeah?” She paused, glancing between Lily, Dorcas, and Mary. Then, her nerves bubbled to the surface. “You think Harry will walk alone?” she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Lily gave her a reassuring smile, though she, too, had her doubts. “He’s stubborn. He’ll do it.” She glanced at Harry, who was already trying to squirm out of her arms again, eager to be part of the action. “Right, buddy?” she said with a playful nudge, her smile never fading.

Marlene took a deep breath, straightening up as she turned back to the other women. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

The four friends stepped outside, where Sebastian was already waiting. Sixteen years older than Marlene, he had stepped into the role of her father when she was just nine, and having him walk her down the aisle made all the sense in the world. He stood tall, dressed sharply, his warm eyes meeting Marlene’s with quiet reassurance.

As the bridal party prepared to walk in, Lily knelt down, lowering Harry to the ground. She smoothed his hair with her fingers, then handed him a small basket of flowers to scatter as he walked. “Alright, little man,” she said gently, adjusting the collar of his tiny dress robes. “You’re going to walk ahead of Aunt Marly, yeah? Daddy will be at the altar, and you’ll just go straight to him.”

Harry gripped the basket in his small hands, his lip jutting out slightly as he peeked toward the door. The soft hum of guests chatting on the other side made his nerves spike. He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “Shy…” he murmured, his wide green eyes flicking up to his mother. After a pause, he tugged at her dress. “Mummy come?”

Lily’s heart clenched at the uncertainty in his voice. She brushed his messy curls back and cupped his cheek. “Oh, love,” she whispered with a smile. “You’ll do just fine. I’ll be behind you. Daddy’s waiting for you, and Uncle Sirius too. And Grandpa and Grandma are right in front.”

Marlene crouched down beside them, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart,” she said softly, “how about this? If you go first, I promise I’ll be right behind you. I won’t let you be alone for even a second.”

Harry hesitated, looking between his mother and Marlene, then to the door again. Finally, after a beat, he nodded. “Hawy walk.”

Lily grinned, kissing his forehead. “That’s my brave boy.”

Marlene stood, letting out a relieved breath before looking at her brother. “Okay. Let’s do this before I start crying and ruin my makeup.”

Sebastian chuckled, offering his arm to her. “Then let’s get you married.”

With that, the doors slowly swung open, and the music began to play.

Harry walked carefully in front of Lily, his small hands gripping the basket tightly as his wide green eyes flickered over the sea of faces. The hum of whispers and the weight of so many eyes on him made his little heart race—until he spotted James standing beside Sirius at the altar.

The moment his father gave him a wink and a reassuring smile, a wave of confidence washed over him. Harry beamed and picked up his pace, eagerly scattering the flowers as he went.

But in his excitement, his tiny legs moved too fast, and before he could catch himself, he stumbled forward, falling onto his hands.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

It wasn’t a hard fall—nothing that hurt—but the sudden attention, the hush that followed, and the dozens of eyes now focused solely on him were too much. His lower lip wobbled, and before he could stop it, tears welled up in his eyes. The overwhelming mix of nerves, surprise, and embarrassment hit all at once, and a quiet sniffle quickly turned into a wail.

The bridal party halted behind him, and Lily instinctively took a step forward before catching herself.

James, seeing his son’s distress, acted immediately. Without hesitation, he stepped away from Sirius, crouching slightly as he called out, “Come on, kiddo. You’re alright.” His voice was warm, steady, and full of encouragement.

“You can’t give up now, mate. You’ve got a job to do.” Sirius chimed in.

Harry blinked through his tears, looking between them, his little chest rising and falling with hiccuped sobs. James opened his arms, waiting.

A beat passed.

Then, with a determined sniffle, Harry picked himself up, rubbing his teary eyes with his sleeve.

The crowd let out a collective breath, a few chuckles breaking the tension as the little ring bearer took a shaky step forward. This time, he didn’t rush. Slowly, carefully, he toddled the rest of the way, his basket slightly crooked but still in hand.

When he finally reached James, his father scooped him up with ease, pressing a kiss to his messy curls. “That’s my boy,” James murmured, his voice full of pride.

The ceremony could finally begin.

And so it did. Marlene and Sirius exchanged vows, their words brimming with love and the kind of devotion only they could understand. Marlene’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, even as Sirius—true to form—slipped in a few sexual innuendos that, under any other circumstance, and certainly in front of her six older brothers, would have earned him a slap. 

Instead, she only rolled her eyes, laughing through her tears. Even Sirius, usually guarded beneath his tough exterior, let the world glimpse the softer side he reserved only for his closest friends.

Then came the party and, in true Sirius and Marlene fashion, it was nothing short of extravagant. They danced, they ate, and, Merlin, did they drink.

As the evening wore on, the Marauders and their partners drifted outside, gathering around a small campfire. Lily sat nestled between James’s legs, her head resting against his chest as the warmth of the fire flickered around them. She let out a sigh, the weight of everyday worries melting away. “Merlin, I needed this break,” she murmured, closing her eyes for a moment.

Next to them, Sirius and Marlene lounged with effortless ease, stealing tender kisses between fits of laughter. Their friends playfully rolled their eyes, feigning exasperation as the PDA reached its peak, but today, no one could deny that the spotlight was entirely theirs.

As they chatted, the soft crunch of grass underfoot announced Euphemia’s approach. She stood beside Sirius, her hand instinctively reaching down to ruffle his hair—something she had done since he was a boy, something that still made him lean into her touch..

“There you all are,” she said with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling as she looked around the group. Harry stood beside her, rubbing his sleepy eyes but still determined to stay awake. “I don’t mean to spoil your fun,” she continued, her voice warm, “but I have a little boy here who insisted on ten more minutes with his mummy before we head home. I suspect the party after this will be for the young ones.”

Lily smiled, reaching out as Harry toddled toward her, his little arms outstretched. “Come here, love.”

Euphemia her grandchild with fondness before turning to Lily with a warm smile. “Monty and I will say our goodbyes and come fetch him in ten,” she said before stepping away, leaving them to their moment.

Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Lily’s neck, burying his face against her chest with a tired sigh. “Mummy go home?” he mumbled sleepily.

Before Lily could answer, James—who had definitely had one too many Firewhiskeys—grinned and leaned in, ruffling his son’s hair. “Sorry, mate, but Mummy’s mine tonight. Take your chubby little hands off.”

Harry frowned at his father’s words, his little face crumpling as his lower lip began to tremble. His grip on Lily tightened as he sniffled, his voice wobbling. “Want Mummy…”

Lily shot James a look, one eyebrow arched in warning.

James, realizing his mistake, immediately sobered up—well, as much as he could in his slightly tipsy state. “Oi, don’t do that, kiddo,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Harry’s messy hair. “You’ll have Mummy all to yourself tomorrow.”

Harry wasn’t convinced. His green eyes, so much like Lily’s, filled with unshed tears as he turned his face back into her shoulder.

Lily sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s curls. “It’s alright, love. Just a little sleepover with Grandma and Grandpa. You’ll have so much fun,” she murmured, rubbing slow circles on his back.

Harry rubbed at his tired eyes with a clumsy fist. It was nearing 8 p.m., well past his usual bedtime. Lily ran a tight ship in the Potter household, and Harry’s nighttime routine was something she rarely wavered on. 

Bath, fresh nappy and pajamas, dinner, playtime with his parents, a bottle, and then bed—it was a rhythm he knew by heart. But tonight, everything was different. There had been no bath, no bottle, no quiet winding down. Instead, there were loud voices, flashing lights, and too much excitement for a toddler who thrived on structure.

Harry’s little robes were askew, his nappy peeking out awkwardly, and his green eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. He shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his sleeve before looking up at his mother, his voice small and pleading. “Mummy come too?”

Before Lily could respond, Sirius—half-draped over Marlene, a lazy grin on his lips—leaned forward and poked Harry’s belly. “Come on, little Prongslet, let your dad have your mum for one night. How else are you supposed to get a sibling?” he teased.

The words had barely settled before Harry let out a high-pitched whine, his face crumpling as fresh tears welled in his eyes. Usually, he adored Sirius—worshipped him, even—but right now, he was exhausted, overwhelmed, and very much not in the mood for jokes.

James chuckled, reaching for his glass of Firewhiskey and taking a long sip.

Lily shot both him and Sirius a sharp look. “Not helping,” she said, her voice firm as she stood and gathered Harry into her arms.

“Alright, love, let’s get you sorted.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, smoothing back his damp curls. “I think someone needs a fresh nappy and some proper cuddles before bed.”

Harry clung to her tightly, sucking his thumb as he let out a soft, tired whimper.

Lily glanced at James. “I think I’ll go with your parents. I’ll put him to bed and come back once he’s asleep.”

“Boo!” Marlene jeered playfully. “Come on, Evans, cut the cord.”

James sighed, standing and brushing the dirt off his trousers. “Lils, it’s one night. My parents can handle him. Can you just stay with your friends and not rush off to play mum?”

Lily’s frown deepened as she adjusted Harry on her hip. Her voice, when she spoke, was steady but firm. “I don’t play mum, James. I am a mum.”

James immediately sobered, but Lily wasn’t done.

“Harry stays with your parents all the time, but it’s late, he’s overtired, and he’s completely disoriented. If I don’t go with them, he’ll give them a hellish night, and that’s not fair.” She exhaled, shifting Harry slightly. “I’ll be gone half an hour, tops.”

James ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He knew better than to argue when Lily used that tone.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… come back soon, yeah?”

Lily’s expression softened slightly. “Of course.”

James leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before dropping one on Harry’s messy curls. “Night, little menace. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa.”

With that, Lily turned, walking toward the house, her son tucked securely in her arms.

James flopped back onto the log beside Sirius, exhaling.

Sirius clapped him on the back, grinning. “Mate, I love watching you dig your own grave.”

Peter, who was laying on the grass, staring up at the stars, too drunk to sit up straight smirked, raising her glass. “To James Potter, defeated once again.”

James groaned, reaching for his drink. “You lot are the worst.”

Lily found Euphemia and Fleamont and took the floo with them to the Potter manor. Once inside, she walked Harry up the stairs to James’s old bedroom, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. He was getting heavier, but she didn’t mind. These quiet, sleepy moments wouldn’t last forever.

Inside, the familiar room was dimly lit, the cot in the corner already prepped for him. James’s childhood belongings still lined some of the shelves, a mix of old books, Quidditch memorabilia, and a few trinkets that made her smile.

She sat on the edge of the bed, shifting Harry onto her lap. He was drowsy, his thumb drifting toward his mouth before Lily gently pulled it away. “No thumb, love,” she reminded him softly.

Harry pouted, rubbing his tired eyes with his fists.

Lily pressed a kiss to his curls. “Did you have fun today, my love?”

Harry nodded sleepily, resting his head against her chest. “Uh-huh… Big, big party,” he mumbled.

“It was a big party,” Lily agreed, stroking his back. “And you were the best ring bearer.”

Harry giggled sleepily. “I fall…” he murmured, remembering his little stumble.

“You did, but you got right back up. Mummy was so proud.”

Harry hummed in response, but when Lily started to undo the buttons of his little dress robes, he squirmed.

“No, Mummy,” he whined, gripping the fabric. “Stay on.”

“Oh, love, we have to take these off. You can’t sleep in them,” Lily said gently, peeling back the stiff material. “Let’s get you into your comfy jammies, hmm?”

Harry clung to his robes stubbornly, shaking his head. “No jamas.”

Lily sighed, pressing a kiss to his temple. She knew how overtired Harry could be very particular. “Alright, how about this? You take off your shirt all by yourself like a big boy, and Mummy will clap for you.”

Harry peeked up at her, considering. He did like being called a big boy. After a long pause, he wiggled out of his shirt, tossing it dramatically onto the floor.

Lily gasped, clapping softly. “Wow! Look at that! My clever boy!”

Harry grinned, proud of himself—until Lily reached for his nappy.

“Nooooo,” he whined, wriggling backward. “No change, Mummy!”

Lily sighed. “Harry, sweetheart, we have to change your nappy before bed.”

“Nooooooo,” Harry repeated, kicking his legs weakly.

Lily took a deep breath. Patience. “Come on, love. Mummy will be so fast. Then we can cuddle, okay?”

Harry shook his head dramatically. “No wipes! Cold, Mummy!”

“I’ll warm them in my hands first,” Lily promised, rubbing a fresh wipe between her palms.

Harry watched suspiciously as she undid his nappy, but before she could grab the wipes, he giggled and wiggled his bare bum against the sheets.

Lily gasped. “Harry James Potter, do not put your bum on Daddy’s childhood bed!”

Harry shrieked with laughter.

“Merlin help me,” Lily muttered, shaking her head. She swiftly grabbed a wipe and got to work, ignoring Harry’s dramatic whining about how “mean” Mummy was.

“All done!” she announced, taping a fresh nappy onto him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Harry huffed, crossing his arms. “Hmpf.”

Lily grinned. “Alright, grumpy boy, let’s get these jammies on.”

This time, Harry lifted his arms sluggishly, letting her slip a soft pyjama top over his head. His little body finally started relaxing, exhaustion catching up to him.

Once he was dressed, Lily gathered him onto her lap, rocking him slowly. “See? All done.”

Harry nodded eagerly, slipping his thumb back into his mouth. “Bottle?” he mumbled around it, eyes heavy with sleep.

They had been trying to wean him off bottles completely before his second birthday—just two months away—but it was proving to be more of a challenge than they’d anticipated.

Lily sighed, knowing tonight wasn’t the night for a battle. “Alright, just for tonight,” she relented, gently pulling his thumb from his mouth. “Tippy?” she called.

With a soft pop, the Potter family’s house elf appeared before them. “Miss Lily?” Tippy squeaked, bowing slightly.

“Could you please get a bottle of warm milk for Harry?” Lily asked.

Tippy nodded at once. “Right away, Miss!” And with another pop, she was gone.

Harry clapped his hands in delight, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Milky!” he cheered before wriggling off Lily’s lap and onto the bed.

He immediately made a beeline for his overnight bag, rooting through it with determined little hands. Socks, tiny trousers, and a spare jumper were flung haphazardly onto the bed and floor as he searched.

Lily arched an eyebrow, amused. “Mister Messy, what exactly are you doing?”

Harry barely looked up, his little brows furrowed in concentration. “Staggy,” he muttered, still digging. “And dummy.”

Lily bent down, plucking his beloved stuffed stag from where he had flung it. “You mean this Staggy?” she teased, waving it in front of him.

Harry gasped dramatically, snatching it from her hands and hugging it close. “Staggy!” he cheered, rubbing his sleepy face against the soft fur.

Lily ruffled his hair. “And your dummy?” she prompted, kneeling to check under the bed. Sure enough, a little green pacifier was hiding just beneath.

“Ah-ha!” she declared, holding it up triumphantly.

Harry beamed, reaching for it eagerly. “Fank you, Mummy,” he said, popping it into his mouth with a contented sigh.

At that moment, Tippy reappeared with a warm bottle of milk. “Here is little master’s milk,” the elf said, handing it over.

Lily smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Tippy.”

Lily sighed, shifting to sit back against the pillows as she patted Harry’s back. “Alright, trouble. Sit next to Mummy and drink your bottle properly, hmm?”

Harry, still brimming with sleepiness and mischief, clambered onto the bed and leaned against her, clutching his bottle with both hands.

For a few blissful moments, he drank quietly, his green eyes looking up at Lily as if memorizing her face. But then, the over-tiredness took over, and instead of focusing on his milk, he began grinning at her, his tiny fingers wiggling against her side in an attempt to tickle her.

“Cheeky boy,” Lily murmured, biting back a laugh as she caught his little hand. “Drink, Harry.”

Harry giggled behind the bottle, then took another sip before reaching up to poke her chin. “Mummy funny,” he said, his words muffled around the teat.

Lily sighed, stroking his hair. “I’ll be even funnier when you finish that bottle and go to sleep,” she teased.

But Harry, determined to play, kept squirming, his giggles bubbling up again. The distracted drinking, however, soon caught up with him—his mouth lost suction, and suddenly, he choked.

Milk dribbled down his chin as he coughed, his little body tensing in surprise.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily soothed, quickly sitting him up and rubbing his back in slow circles. “You’re alright. Just got too silly, didn’t you?”

Harry hiccupped, sniffling as the coughing fit subsided.

Lily grabbed a muslin cloth from his overnight bag, wiping his chin and dabbing at the milk that had spilled onto his pajama top.

Harry leaned back against the soft pillows, settling once more as he brought the bottle back to his lips. He took a few more sips, but the milk seemed less of a priority now. His attention drifted, as it often did when he was tired and just on the edge of sleep.

Harry kicked his legs excitedly in the air, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced up at Lily. He knew he shouldn’t be squirming so much, but he couldn’t help himself—the twinkle in his eyes gave away just how much he was enjoying testing her limits.

Lily sighed, propping herself up on her elbow and giving him a knowing look. “Harry,” she said in a gentle but firm tone. “You’re being very silly, and if you keep wiggling like that, you’re going to choke again. It’s bedtime, not playtime.”

But Harry wasn’t ready to give in just yet. Giggling, he pulled the bottle from his mouth, turned it upside down, and gave it a good shake, watching with delight as milk splattered onto his onesie. “Milky!” he squealed, laughing at his own antics.

Lily sat up quickly, her patience thinning. She reached out, swiftly plucking the bottle from his hands before more damage could be done. “Harry James Potter!” she scolded, her voice firm but not unkind. “That is very naughty. If you’re playing instead of drinking, I think that means you don’t really want your milk.”

Harry’s giggles faded as he pouted up at her, clearly realizing he might have pushed too far.

Lily stood, scooping him up into her arms despite his half-hearted wriggling. “Come on, trouble,” she murmured, walking toward the armchair by the window. It wasn’t quite the same as the rocking chair back home, but it would do. Settling down, she adjusted him in her lap, cradling him close. “Now, let’s calm down, hmm?” she said, rubbing slow circles on his back. “It’s time for snuggles, not mischief.”

Harry let out a frustrated whine, wriggling in his mother’s arms as he kicked his little legs and reached out desperately toward where his bottle had been. “Milky!” he cried, his voice wobbling with exhaustion.

Lily sighed, shaking her head as she pulled out her wand. With a small flick, she summoned his discarded pacifier and stuffed stag. “No, love,” she murmured gently. “You don’t want milk—you’re just overtired. It’s sleep time now.”

As the pacifier flew toward her, she caught it effortlessly and guided it to Harry’s mouth, gently pressing it between his lips. “Here, sweetheart,” she soothed. “Settle down, now.”

Harry gave a little sniffle but accepted the pacifier, his tiny fingers curling into Lily’s robes as he tucked his face against her shoulder. His breathing was still uneven, the occasional hiccup escaping as he fought against the tiredness weighing down his little body.

Lily sat down in the armchair by the window, adjusting Harry so he was cradled in her arms, his head resting against her chest. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, rubbing his back in slow, comforting circles. “There we go, love,” she whispered. “Just close your eyes.”

Harry sucked on his dummy, his free hand finding Staggy and squeezing it tightly. He shifted once, then again, his little body resisting sleep even as his blinks grew slower.

Lily began humming softly, rocking him ever so slightly, letting the steady rhythm lull him. “Mummy’s here,” she murmured, running her fingers through his messy curls. “Always here.”

For a few minutes, Harry continued to fight it, his body giving tiny twitches every time he started to drift off. But soon, his sucking slowed, his breathing evened out, and the tension in his limbs melted away as he finally surrendered to sleep.

Lily watched him for a moment, her heart swelling at how peaceful he looked. Carefully, she stood, crossing the room to the cot that had been his at the Potters’ since he was born. She lowered him down gently, tucking him in and making sure Staggy was nestled close.

She lingered for a moment, brushing her fingers over his soft cheek before pressing one last kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

With a deep sigh, she straightened, knowing she should head back to James and the others. She quietly stepped out of James’s old room, closing the door softly behind her before making her way to the sitting room to say goodnight to her in-laws.

“Thank you for watching him,” she said warmly to Euphemia and Monty, who both smiled knowingly.

“Always, dear,” Euphemia assured her. “Now go enjoy yourself before James drinks himself under the table.”

With a chuckle, Lily flooed back to the venue, stepping into the now much louder, much wilder reception. 

The music thumped through the air, and as she scanned the dance floor, her eyes immediately landed on her husband. James’s robes were completely disheveled, his glasses slightly askew, his hair an even bigger mess than usual—clear signs that the firewhiskey had very much gotten to him.

He was dancing—if one could call it that—with Sirius, the two of them dramatically twirling around each other while Marlene laughed, twirling with one of her brothers.

Lily shook her head fondly and made her way to Remus, who was leaning casually against a table, sipping what looked like the last respectable drink of the evening. His gaze was fixed on his two best friends, amusement clear in his tired eyes.

“No more firewhiskey for those two,” Lily said dryly, just as Sirius made a running leap into James’s arms. James caught him with an exaggerated grunt, lifting him into a bridal carry as Sirius threw an arm over his forehead dramatically.

Remus smirked, taking another slow sip of his drink. “Oh, I don’t think we’re stopping them now.”

Lily chuckled, shaking her head before leaning against Remus’s shoulder. “Am I being replaced?” she called out, raising a playful brow as James twirled Sirius dramatically.

James whipped his head around at the sound of her voice, his face lighting up. “You’re back!” he shouted, unceremoniously dropping Sirius onto the floor—earning an indignant yelp from his best friend—before sprinting toward Lily.

Before she could react, James crashed into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and planting a sloppy, whiskey-laced kiss on her lips.

Lily groaned against his mouth. “You taste like firewhiskey,” she mumbled, barely getting the words out before James pulled back, grinning.

“Then you should drink more to catch up,” he teased, his hands sliding down to her bum, giving it an unabashed squeeze.

Lily let out a half-laugh, half-exasperated grunt, shoving at his chest. “James Potter, behave.”

James waggled his eyebrows. “Not a chance. Now, come dance with me, Mrs. Potter.”

Lily wrapped her arms around James, kissing him gently. “I am tired. Your son’s bedtime routine wore me down. You have to carry me” she teased, leaning her weight against him. 

James grinned, tightening his arms around her. “Oh, is that all? You want me to carry you?” He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear. “You know I’d carry you anywhere, love.”

Lily laughed softly, tilting her head back to look at him. “Then do it, Potter. Sweep me off my feet.”

Never one to back down from a challenge—especially not when it involved impressing his wife—James wasted no time. With a dramatic flourish, he bent down and scooped Lily into his arms bridal-style, earning a surprised squeal from her.

Sirius, who had just picked himself up off the floor, whistled loudly. “Oi, Prongs, if you’re gonna carry her off like that, at least make sure we don’t see what happens next!”

James smirked, spinning Lily slightly in his arms before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Can’t help it, mate. She’s irresistible.”

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she relaxed in James’s arms. “Alright, alright. Now, are you actually going to dance with me, or is this just an excuse to show off?”

James waggled his eyebrows. “Bit of both.”

And with that, he carried her straight onto the dance floor.

Lily laughed as James set her on her feet, twirling her effortlessly before pulling her close, swaying them back and forth. She couldn’t stop giggling at her husband’s antics—his drunken enthusiasm making him even more ridiculous than usual. 

It had been a while since they’d had a night like this, just the two of them, completely carefree.Sure, they had date nights when Harry stayed with James’s parents or his godparents, but those were usually quiet evenings—staying in or going out for dinner, nothing like this. Dancing wildly, without a care in the world, felt exhilarating. She soaked in every second.

As a slow song started, James tightened his arms around her, pressing their bodies together until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. His forehead rested against hers, his breath warm and tinged with whiskey.

“I love you,” he murmured, his words slightly slurred but utterly sincere.

Lily chuckled, brushing her fingers through his messy hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you too,” she whispered.

Before she could say anything else, James closed the gap, capturing her lips in a deep, heated kiss. He didn’t hold back—his hands firm on her waist, his lips insistent, his tongue sliding into her mouth without hesitation.

Lily gasped softly against him before melting into the kiss, her fingers tightening in his hair. The world around them faded—the music, the drunken cheers from their friends, everything—until it was just the two of them.

But soon enough, she felt a face approach them. “Should you get a room?” the voice of Sirius Black came. “Make me a second Godson?”

James groaned dramatically, pulling away from Lily just enough to glare at his best friend. “You are the worst, Pads.”

Sirius smirked, utterly unrepentant. “I know.” He grabbed a drink from a passing tray and took a sip before wiggling his eyebrows. “But really, Prongs, if you’re going to snog your wife like that in public, you can’t blame me for assuming baby number two is in the works.”

Lily rolled her eyes, her cheeks still slightly pink. “We will not be making a second baby any time soon,” she said pointedly, smoothing down her dress. “You, however, are more than welcome to have one of your own if you so wish.”

Sirius put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Me? Merlin, Evans, that’s a long time away!” He shuddered dramatically before shooting her a grin. “Besides, I prefer the fun part of making babies without the actual baby at the end of it.”

James let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “I can assure you the dad part is not all bad. Especially when you have the cutest baby” he said resting his cheek on top of Lily’s forehead.

Sirius grinned, throwing an arm around James’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. We all love Harry. Now, less talk of babies, more drinks!”

Lily sighed but couldn’t help smiling as James allowed Sirius to drag him back toward the bar. She had no doubt she’d be dragging her husband home in a couple of hours, barely able to stand on his own. But for now, she let them have their fun.

It was nearly two in the morning when Sirius and Marlene left the party eager to get to their first night as newlyweds. James sat at the table with Remus and Peter, Dorcas and Mary next to them. Lily approached James sitting on his lap. “Time to go home?” she asked, combing his hair with her fingers. 

James rested his head against her chest. “Night is still young, Evans” he slurred. 

Lily rolled her eyes. “Do I need to remind you we agreed to have lunch at your parents tomorrow?” she asked. “Where we will have our one year old son that won’t be hungover like his father.”

​​James groaned dramatically, nuzzling his face into Lily’s neck. “Why did we agree to that?” he mumbled.

Lily chuckled, pressing a kiss to his messy hair. “Because we’re responsible parents. And because you, my love, are a mama’s boy who can’t say no to Euphemia Potter.”

Remus snorted into his drink, while Peter let out a wheezy laugh. Dorcas and Mary smirked, clearly enjoying James’s predicament.

James lifted his head, squinting at his wife. “That is slander, Evans.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Is it? Who went to his mum’s for soup last month when he had the sniffles?”

Peter cackled, and even Remus grinned. James pouted, wrapping his arms tighter around Lily’s waist. “That was one time.”

Lily kissed his nose. “Mhm. Sure it was. Now, come on, let’s get you home before you start snoring on me.”

James leaned his forehead on Lily’s chests raising his hand and poking her breasts as he looked into her cleavage. “We should go home. Make a baby so I can have your pregnant boobs back”

Lily gasped, swatting his hand away as the table erupted into laughter. “James!” she scolded, her face burning.

James grinned cheekily, completely unbothered. “What? You were gorgeous when you were pregnant.” He sighed dramatically, resting his chin against her chest. “All glowing and round—”

“Oh so I was gorgeous when I was pregnant. What am I now? Lily cut him off, grabbing his face and forcing him to look up at her instead of down her dress.

James blinked at her, clearly trying to catch up. Then, with all the sincerity his drunken state could muster, he grinned. “You’re still gorgeous. Just… less round.”

Lily scoffed, though she couldn’t hide the amused twitch of her lips. “Less round, huh?” She gave his cheek a playful pat. “Keep talking, Potter, and you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

James gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Evans.”

Remus, still laughing, clapped him on the back. “You’re digging your own grave, mate. I’d stop while you’re ahead.”

James ignored him, gazing up at Lily with a dopey, lovesick expression. “You’re the most beautiful witch in the world, pregnant or not,” he declared, voice slurred but utterly adoring. “And I’m madly in love with you.”

Lily rolled her eyes but felt her heart melt all the same. She sighed, brushing a hand through his messy hair. “Mhm. Sure you are. Now, let’s get you home before you pass out on me.”

James grinned, stumbling to his feet and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Fine, but only if you carry me.”

Lily snorted. “You’re twice my size, James.”

“Exactly,” he said, smirking. “Means you’ll have to hold on really tight. Plus you carry Harry all the time. If you don’t carry me it will be favouritism”

“Alright, enough drunken talk. Remus, Peter, Mary, Dorcas. We’ll see you soon”  Lily said, blowing a kiss to her friends.

James waved dramatically before leaning down to give Remus’s kiss a sloppy kiss. “Love you Moony, Wormy.” he said before walking to his wife. “Alright, Evans. Take me home and fuck me” he grinned

Lily let out a groan, covering her face with her hands as their friends erupted into laughter.

“James!” she hissed, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the Floo.

“What?” he asked innocently, swaying slightly as he wrapped both arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’m a man in love with his beautiful wife. Nothing wrong with that.”

Remus shook his head, smirking into his drink. “He’s your problem now, Lily.”

“Oh, I know,” she muttered, stepping into the fireplace with James still clinging to her like a particularly heavy barnacle.

As the green flames roared to life and they were whisked away, the last thing they heard was Peter’s cackling voice—

“Give him another baby, Evans! Clearly, he’s desperate!”