Chapter 1
Ryuna:
Being born again was... uncomfortable. Painful could certainly describe it, but Ryuna had felt so much pain in her last life that it didn’t even register, so uncomfortable is what it was.
The last months in the womb were, to say the least, strange. The sounds from outside were distorted, and the ones from inside were deafening. Ryuna had never stopped to think that babies could hear their digestive systems at work. BIZARRE.
Then came the birth—uncomfortable—and she found herself on the outside. Ryu could hear a commotion all around, although she couldn’t make out what was being said. The foreign language was completely different from Japanese, and all she could grasp from that chaos was the tone of urgency and the sound of hurried footsteps as a large hand swiftly wrapped her in a blanket.
Her body was new, and she didn’t know how to control even the simplest of movements, so she was too distracted by the inner workings of her own body to worry about what was happening around her. Later, she might scold herself for that lack of attention.
The footsteps were far too loud to belong to a respectable ninja. Perhaps she was in a civilian hospital? Had she been reborn into a civilian family? Frankly, could the spirits of the dragons not have given her at least a hint about what she was supposed to do in this new life?
Back when her soul's agreement was made, they said they would possess her soul, and she would keep her memories through reincarnations to act on their behalf. But they never told her what she was supposed to do! They just abandoned her there to live her baby life with the mind of an adult... was this how Kurama-kun felt when she gave him a baby body? Well, it couldn’t be that bad if in the end, he was okay with her, right? Kurama was good at holding grudges, so he wouldn’t have forgiven her easily if being a baby were that terrible.
With that in mind, and trying to be optimistic because at that moment she could do nothing for herself and being pessimistic wouldn’t help at all, she spent the next few days completely blind—literally—trying to understand what was happening around her. The good thing about instincts was that she didn’t have to worry about performances; her body knew what it needed, and she could just cry until her wishes were met by her... her parents? Caregivers? She didn’t know; she didn’t know the language to understand the sounds she heard, nor could she see to identify a familiar figure.
So, of course, when her vision began to improve, she devoured information about her surroundings, like an Akimichi devouring a free buffet. The man hovering over her and smiling had black hair and slightly tanned skin, looking a bit tired, but that wasn’t particularly concerning; after all, babies were a handful. It was his punishment for being sexually irresponsible. His eyes seemed bright, gray like a storm cloud. He was a handsome man, even if his eyes were rounder than she was used to.
Over the next few days, she discovered that her new name was Lyra.
Goodbye, Ryuna.
Hello, Lyra.
Another thing she noticed was that the man—whom she assumed to be her father, since he was the only figure she’d seen in recent days and no respectable father would abandon such a young baby for days on end—had a small wooden stick that he waved around, making things float and come to life. This wasn’t ninjutsu... it just felt different. What it was, Lyra couldn’t say even if her life depended on it, but she had time to figure it out.
If that was the equivalent of ninjutsu in this place, it meant it was hereditary and that she could also do that? Did the wooden stick really serve a purpose, or was it like the hand signs ninjas use to assist in releasing a jutsu? They help, but aren’t necessary. It wasn’t impossible to perform ninjutsu without hand signs—difficult, yes, but not impossible—so maybe Lyra could make things move like her father if she tried hard enough. She just needed to understand how this type of ninjutsu worked.
Did she still have chakra?
Lyra dedicated the next days of her young life to meditation. It’s hard to find the core of such a young and underdeveloped body, but Lyra had created bodies from nothing before and was a master at manipulating chakra networks, so if anyone could find and understand her new networks, it was her. Even if they were quite different from what she expected when she finally managed to identify them inside.
It was quite similar to the chakra network but fundamentally different. It felt wilder than she was used to, more flexible too. Chakra had limitations and rules that made it predictable, but all the rules could be circumvented to make practically anything possible. At least in theory. But this new network was more fluid, like water or air, which Lyra couldn’t simply command. At least not at first glance, but her father’s wooden stick was proof that it was possible to control that energy.
Her first experiments with her new network of... could it even be called chakra? Her father didn’t speak Japanese, and this strange energy coursing through her body indicated that she wasn’t even close to the Land of Fire. She might not even be in the same world she knew. It was a possibility that couldn’t be ignored, though it was a bit sad to know she wouldn’t be able to see her children and grandchildren again. But she lived a full life and died of old age—at 96—surrounded by family, so she was at peace with the change. Just a little nostalgic.
Anyway. Her first experiments were more like accidents. She made things fly and break around the house, and her father celebrated the first few times, but now he just sighed. Lyra couldn’t even blame him because she was destroying the house. His celebration should have been for her showing aptitude for this strange ability to make things fly that he had, just like clans celebrated when a child showed good mastery over their abilities and chakra.
After she started breaking things, other people began to hover around her. A red-haired woman who cooed at her and a messy-haired man with glasses. There was also a tall man with scars on his face and another short, chubby one. They all kept poking her and cooing. Of course, I was beautiful! I had seen myself in a mirror at some point during the visit and could see that I had thin black hair due to age, but the blue eyes were too bright to be that temporary blue many babies have in the first months after birth.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Lyra was channeling the flow of energy inside her to different parts of her body to test the effects. She didn’t gain the super strength or resilience she would have acquired with chakra, which indicated a practical difference between the two energies beyond the distinct feeling. Despite this, this energy helped heal, and Lyra discovered this when she directed it to her bottom to heal her diaper rash. It was a great discovery. Apparently, it also sped up her natural adaptation process, allowing her eyes to become clear much faster than they would have without help—using civilian babies as a reference instead of ninjas in the absence of a more appropriate comparison standard for this world.
The people who appeared after she broke things continued coming by from time to time, but rarely all at once. In the meantime, Lyra kept trying to learn the new language and training her control over this wild energy. The idea of being so defenseless wasn’t pleasant, even if the adults around her seemed nice and all, she hadn’t lived so long in her old life without taking precautions. Besides, if there was one thing she learned from all that mess with Naruto, it was that just because your parents love you doesn’t mean they’ll always be there or that people will do the right thing just because she was a baby. If it weren’t for Ryuna, Naruto would have been left to fend for himself in the Village, and Lyra was not at all eager to be put in a similar situation, no matter how improbable that scenario seemed when surrounded by family.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
And that’s what she did. Again and again until she was able to make the objects she wanted fly in the direction she wanted them to go. It was more like they were thrown, but it was something. If she were attacked, she could use this to defend herself, at least. At first, one or two throws would tire her out, but the number gradually increased as Lyra meditated to increase her reserves as she used to do with her chakra, which proved quite effective.
Her physiological functions followed their natural evolutionary flow, and Lyra gradually learned to control her new body, her new set of bones and muscles that didn’t have the reinforcement of chakra to strengthen them. At least not naturally as chakra did. So, as soon as she could, she began trying to use that energy to strengthen her body consciously.
This new energy didn’t solidify. Chakra wasn’t solid by itself, but it could solidify if its bearer had good enough control. It was common for chakra to be used to extend the reach of a blade, for example, or Susanoo from Sharingan. The thing was, this new energy didn’t solidify; it was essentially fluid and flexible, and therefore couldn’t strengthen the body. Frustrating, but maybe it could be adapted?
Lyra began trying to use this energy as a buffer. Instead of allowing her body to receive the full impact while being strengthened to avoid damage, perhaps the best route with this unknown energy was to prevent her body from taking the full impact. By coating all her bones with energy and placing a thicker layer between each joint, while also filling her body to prevent her organs from banging against each other or suffering any damage, that should absorb the impact of a big fall, for example. But what if it were a more directed blow, like a punch? Maybe directing the energy to the area between the blow and her body would be enough. In theory. She’d still feel it, but it would be considerably weaker and less destructive.
All this was just theory. Annoying, but she didn’t have the means to conduct tests yet.
She hoped Orochi-sensei wasn’t feeling too frustrated in his own reincarnation. She didn’t believe he was patient enough to go with the natural flow of evolution once the novelty of a new biology and world had passed.
Days turned into weeks that turned into months, and Lyra went out with her father—whom she learned was named Sirius—and found herself surrounded by more noise and voices. She tried to control things farther away to test the reach of her energy, and it almost seemed to be working, but her father got agitated and asked her to stop. Or at least, she thought so, judging by his somewhat frantic body language.
He kept repeating the same word several times, which he had already said before, but from the context, Lyra finally discovered it was the name of the strange energy inside her: magic.
The chakra of this world was called magic.
Sirius:
The baby was a surprise. Not that Sirius didn’t love her, his little Lyra, but he wasn’t exactly expecting fatherhood. It was one of the girls he had an affair with at Hogwarts during the last weeks of classes before graduation. Phoebe Adams, a Muggle-born from Hufflepuff who was in the same year as them and who had an interest in him because of his Muggle style and noble title, even though Sirius had been disowned by his own mother.
Phoebe wanted to be a Lady, and as a Muggle-born, there were limited options to achieve that goal. Not that Sirius knew that at the time they slept together. Even less that she had taken fertility potions to assist in conception.
Imagine Sirius's surprise when Phoebe showed up at the Potter’s house wanting to talk to him, with a visibly swollen belly from her pregnancy. James and Lily were there when she insisted on speaking to him, so they became suspicious; after all, these were dangerous times, and Sirius was an Auror fighting against Voldemort. The two managed to extract from Phoebe the information about the pregnancy, and Lily uncovered the Hufflepuff’s plan to "snag" the Black heir with that baby even before Sirius was informed about everything.
It was... confusing.
On one hand, Sirius wanted to keep his distance from the woman who wanted to use a baby, his child, as a tool for her desires and interests. That kind of thinking was all too familiar for his comfort. On the other hand, he couldn’t abandon his child to that fate, even if it was somewhat tempting to shirk responsibility; Lily insisted that it wouldn’t be good for the child and that she could help Sirius in raising her.
But first, they needed to figure out what to do about Phoebe.
There was an entire plan and magical shared custody contracts that Lily devised, inspired by Muggle bureaucracy, which would guarantee that Sirius would have the right to see his daughter—it was a girl!—regardless of the mother’s personal wishes, so that Phoebe couldn’t hold her daughter hostage in exchange for a marriage or something of the sort. There were also safeguards against possible threats from the Death Eaters.
In the end, it was all in vain when Phoebe died after being attacked in Diagon Alley by the Death Eaters in one of the many skirmishes that had been happening in recent months. The healers had to perform an emergency cesarean to save the baby. With the aid of some potions to help her lungs finish developing, Sirius was instructed to keep the baby at home for the next two weeks with a rigorous potion regimen and to keep the baby away from animals, dirt, and very intense stimuli to avoid her premature body getting sick. Under normal circumstances, she would have stayed in the hospital, but with attacks happening frequently, the doctors weren’t keeping anyone there unless absolutely necessary.
That was how, in the first few days, Sirius found himself stuck at home with a baby and forbidden from taking his Animagus form. His friends brought food to his small apartment, but they didn’t dare get too close for fear of transmitting some disease to the baby.
Sirius took days to decide on a name for his daughter—because he hadn’t exactly talked to Phoebe about the name she had planned for the little one—and spent his free time while the baby slept flipping through books of constellation names. It was a Black tradition, and for a notably short time, he considered abandoning that tradition, but Sirius simply refused to let his mother prevent him from doing what he wanted.
Lyra Nebula Black, the only one of her name.
Little Lyra developed faster than expected, and within a few days, he called one of the doctors from St. Mungo’s—a friend from the Order—to assess her health at home, as a safety precaution. With the war intensifying, Lyra was a tempting target both for being Sirius Black’s daughter, one of Voldemort’s greatest opponents, and for being a Black from the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.
The doctor confirmed that Lyra was healthy and her body was mature enough for him to have more freedom of movement, receive visitors, and have contact with dirty things, as this apparently helps improve babies’ immunity.
Not long after that, Lyra began to have accidental magic outbursts and effectively started to destroy everything around her. Now that her health was no longer so fragile, with her magic outbursts and Sirius needing to return to work, his friends were quickly summoned for the noble task of babysitters.
It was Lily who first praised Lyra's intelligence by pointing out how she looked at things as if she were trying to understand. That her eyes—so, so blue—were very clear and that it was unusual for someone so young to be able to identify shapes so early, as babies are born half-blind and take months before they can truly see things.
Lyra quickly became the princess of the Marauders, and everyone rushed to cater to her whims whenever she cried or had an accidental magic outburst. Eventually, Sirius made a decision and named James and Lily as Lyra’s godparents since they were the ones who spent the most time with her—Remus was afraid of hurting her due to his condition, and Peter was extremely anxious at the mere idea of holding a baby, fearing he would drop her at some point.
Eventually, however, the war intensified, and even his usual babysitters weren’t free often enough to take care of little Lyra.
It was at one of the Order meetings that the Prewett twins, Gideon and Fabian, overheard the Marauders discussing shifts to care for Lyra and mentioned that their sister, Molly Weasley, had her own children with Arthur Weasley and that she could take care of another baby while Sirius and the others were busy.
Lyra:
Her father began leaving Lyra at the house of a red-haired family a few months after her birth. Probably so he could work and provide for both of them. For the first time, Lyra wondered about her mother’s whereabouts, but her memories of the birth hinted that she might have died during it.
She remembered the noise and the rush and should have thought about it sooner, but you don’t rush around with such a young baby nearby if you can avoid it. Accidents and all that. So if there was a commotion in the delivery room after the baby was born, it must have been because of the mother. Either that or the baby—her—was born with some health problem.
That was how Lyra realized her mother likely died in childbirth, and her father was left alone to care for what seemed to be his first child. It was good that he had a support system and friends willing to help care for the child, like this family.
The woman with fiery hair was plump and had a warm smile whenever she looked in Lyra's direction. The baby was quickly left to play with other children who seemed to be her age: babies. There were also some older ones, but Lyra couldn’t determine their ages beyond the fact that they hadn’t yet reached double digits. The younger ones seemed to be the same age and were quite similar.
Twins.
Oh, how she missed Kenji, her brother, but he had died a few years before her, just as peacefully. So she wouldn’t dwell on it or project her sibling desires onto these babies. They were cute, though.
Seeing the twins—probably identical—made Lyra wonder if she could sense magic the same way she sensed chakra and if she could use that to identify or locate people. She wasn’t as powerful a sensor as her brother in her past life, but she had trained the ability enough to be at least competent. It would be very useful to be able to sense magic and identify the different magical sources...
So many possibilities.
Lyra immediately began working on this, using the twin babies as test subjects since they should be as similar as possible, but their magical signatures should be different enough to make them distinct beings despite their similarities. The chakra of each person is unique, like a fingerprint. It could be similar, but never identical. She could try to figure out what different feelings the twins projected to learn how to find the magic within each of them.
She hadn’t thought of this before, but she would work on her magic perception at home and use her father’s friends—James, Lily, Remus, and Peter—as test subjects as well. It wasn’t like this would hurt them, so she didn’t need permission to proceed. Besides, she was a baby, so she shouldn’t have enough strength to hurt an adult even if she wanted to. Babies wouldn’t hurt themselves because they were flexible. That was something in common with chakra networks and magical cores: they are more flexible in childhood and willing to shape themselves, so, in a way, babies were safer test subjects than adults. Still, she would stop at the first sign of danger for anyone involved.
That said, her days at the house of the fiery-haired family were enjoyable. Her father would drop her off in the morning and pick her up at the end of the day. Sometimes she would spend the night there, which made Lyra wonder what kind of job her father had, but it wasn’t like people discussed business with a baby. Not that she understood enough of their language to grasp it if they did...
In the following months, she said her first words and took her first steps, and each occasion resulted in a great commotion and many pokes. The twins were quickly catching up to her, and they had spent enough time together for the twins to see her as a sister too, allowing her to play with their toys when they wouldn’t let the older kids do so.
The Weasleys—the name of the fiery-haired clan—had a very cute dog that made Lyra think of Kakashi, her beloved husband who died many years before her due to his lifestyle. Even though he no longer went on missions like he did when he was young, the various injuries he suffered throughout his life didn’t simply vanish, and eventually, they came to collect their dues. Kakashi had many pains in his bones and muscles in the last years of his life, and Ryuna constantly had to find ways to relieve his discomfort as much as possible. But he was at peace when he departed, surrounded by family and friends in their comfortable and pain-free bed, because Ryu refused to let his last moments, his final farewell, be tainted by constant pain.
As soon as she got the hang of walking with her new body, Lyra began playing fetch with the dog—he was big and black and had recently started appearing more frequently, but mainly at the Weasley property—and conducted several tests to see how good the animals' sense of smell was in this world compared to hers. Her conclusion was that the sense of smell was slightly inferior, but the real problem was the lack of tracking training. He was quite a docile animal despite his wild appearance.
Lyra learned many names in her first year of life: the dog was Padfoot, the twins were Fred and George, the older brothers were Bill, Charlie, and Percy, respectively, and their parents were Arthur and Molly.
Lily and Molly would sometimes read to the babies, and although Lyra couldn’t understand much beyond a few keywords, she made it a point to sit by the women and attentively observe the pages to decipher the foreign writing as best as she could. They must have noticed her interest and used their fingers to point out what they were reading.
It would take time, but Lyra was determined to decipher those symbols!
Lily:
The war was becoming unsustainable for both sides. It was no longer a question of who was stronger, but of who would break first. The Death Eaters were beginning to realize how extreme and deranged Voldemort was, but they were too afraid to stand against him while those of the Light were wearing themselves thin trying to contain the threats against the families of those who opposed the Dark Lord. Those in a more neutral position were finding it increasingly difficult to remain neutral when atrocities were committed around them, and more and more they leaned toward one side or the other.
Unfortunately, the pressure from the Dark side was greater than theirs and forced more and more people to change their loyalties.
It was only a matter of time before one side would give in, and Lily worried it would be the Light that would yield despite Dumbledore’s noble speeches about bravery and perseverance. Lily had helped brew potions and heal wounds enough to know that the gap in her knowledge was lethal. Her lack of knowledge in dark magic also meant she didn’t know how to negate or heal the effects of a curse or what types of shields were most effective against certain kinds of dark magic.
She lost count of how many members of the Order of the Phoenix—her friends—died because no one knew how to combat the curse used against them. She could see her friends becoming increasingly worn down by the losses and under pressure to turn the tide in their favor.
So Lily found herself in a position where she wanted to learn dark magic—if only to know how to defend herself against it—but she had no materials or teachers to whom she could ask for guidance. She feared that if anyone knew of her newfound interest, they might accuse her of being a spy or something similar.
It was during one of the infiltration missions at a Death Eater base that Lily found herself in a library while sounds of fighting sporadically exploded outside. It was a relatively small library, but reading some of the titles made it clear what kind of books they had there.
Lily was moving before she even thought about it and quickly stuffed as many books as she could into her bottomless bag, hoping no one would discover her. Soon she was heading back to the fight with the excuse that she had seen one of the Death Eaters fleeing in the direction of the library and that she was concerned they might perform some kind of dark magic ritual to harm them inside.
No one questioned her explanation. Lily Potter—the marriage had happened about a week after Lyra’s first birthday—née Evans was a Muggle-born who publicly opposed Voldemort and rejected an offer to join the Dark side made by the Dark Lord himself. Her loyalty was not in question, and for that, Lily was grateful.
Lily took every moment she was alone to study the books she had stolen from the library—there were 21 books—covering blood rituals, curses, binding magic, soul magic, necromancy, potions, and two books on defensive magics. The subjects somewhat blended in some books, but they all were a rich source of knowledge.
James, sweet James, so blindly loyal to Dumbledore and obsessed with the Light that he would never understand that Lily would even consider studying these matters, and the others were always around when they weren’t on missions. It was rare for Lily to have the opportunity to be alone, but her moments as a babysitter for Lyra or the other babies presented a golden opportunity.
Molly also needed a break, and Lily volunteered to take babysitting shifts to care for all six children, but Molly reassured her that the older ones would be with their grandparents and that she only needed to watch over the three babies—Lyra and the twins—who would spend most of their time sleeping at the Burrow. This arrangement became a habit that helped both of them.
After Lily insisted that she enjoyed the experience of caring for babies because she herself wanted children, Molly never questioned it again. Of course, the news spread, and James became extremely excited about the prospect of having a child, already smitten as he was with little Lyra. Lily felt a pang of guilt for using her hypothetical child as an excuse to be alone, but she felt justified every time someone died because of a curse that no one knew how to heal.
One day, when the twins were asleep, Lily saw Lyra staring at one of her dark magic books that she had left on the bench to attend to the twins when they started to cry. For a second, she genuinely worried, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t, before remembering that Lyra was still a baby and wouldn’t understand the words on the page.
She thought about trying to distract the baby with some toy, but she knew Lyra liked being read to, and if she tried to keep her away, she would probably end up crying and waking the twins. Three babies crying would make studying difficult, so she simply held Lyra in her lap and read silently instead of reading aloud as she usually did with the children’s books. Despite this, Lyra gazed at the pages of the book with a hypnotic attention that most children reserved for shiny, colorful things.
Lyra would probably be a great reader when she grew up.
James:
James was excited about the idea of having a child, but that didn’t mean he was any less surprised and anxious when he discovered that Lily was, in fact, pregnant. When she told him, James had a moment of euphoria, but since then, every time he received news that someone from the Light’s family had been attacked because of their affiliation against Voldemort, he couldn’t help but worry about the kind of world he was bringing his child into.
“Pads, when you found out you were having a child…”
Sirius was with him in the backyard of his house in Godric's Hollow while Peter, Lily, and Remus played fetch with Lyra, who was chasing them with innocent laughter and joyful screams. James couldn’t shake his doubts about his child's impending arrival.
“Are you worried about the safety of the baby and Lily?” Sirius guessed, giving him a sidelong glance with an eyebrow raised, as if he thought James wouldn’t notice where his thoughts were headed. Well, what other reason would Sirius have to hang back while everyone played with his daughter?
“It’s just that… I feel like I’m bringing my child into a war that shouldn’t involve children, ever,” he scratched the back of his neck, messing up his already chaotic hair in frustration as he struggled to find the words he wanted to express. “They’re just kids, you know? They don’t even know our name, let alone about the war or the ideologies that led us to fight, and yet there are people who would kill them to reach us, and… and I’m bringing my child into a world where that can happen. It’s not even a small possibility. Merlin, there are Dark wizards who enjoy killing children and hunt the Light families that oppose Voldemort…”
“I know, James. Why do you think I’m always so careful about who I let babysit Lyra?” Sirius sighed into the silence that followed, feeling James' guilt radiate in waves. “When Phoebe was pregnant with Lyra, I confess I didn’t worry about these things, not until she was born. It was Lily who worried about those dangers back then. I didn’t even want kids, Prongs. But then she was born, and I had to spend those first days caring for her completely alone… you know, at first, she cried for seemingly no reason, and I realized she was crying because she needed to poop and didn’t know how,” Sirius huffed, but mostly, he seemed sad. “Animals know how to poop instinctively, but a baby doesn’t. They feel uncomfortable, I think, and push with their arms, legs… in random places until they push with their belly to get it out… I just want to say I never realized how defenseless Lyra was until that moment. Of course, I knew she was fragile, but I never fully understood that as her father, it’s my job to protect her and teach her everything. Everything, even the simplest things. It was terrifying.”
The two of them looked at the baby running after her friends, laughing innocently, blissfully unaware of the war threatening her. Each seeing what could happen if they failed.
“I shouldn’t have done this, should I? Lily and I… we should have waited,” James shrank back.
“Does it matter?”
“What?”
“Your child is coming, regardless of how you feel about it,” Sirius pointed out in a firm voice. He would have joked if it were another topic, but James needed to keep his head straight; he couldn’t hesitate. James knew this and was grateful, because a moment of hesitation could cost his family’s lives. “Stop worrying about what could be and focus on what is. You’re going to have a child; what are you going to do about it? How will you protect them from the dangers you know are coming?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then figure it out,” Sirius spoke with an air of finality, and James wanted to laugh.
Just like that, Sirius gave James a goal, a focus. Dumbledore could make the plans against Voldemort, and James would follow any orders he received, but his mind would be occupied figuring out ways to protect his growing family.
His first stop would be Gringotts to open a secure vault for his wife and child in case he died. In that vault—separate from the Potter Vault—he needed a sample of fresh blood, along with the goblins’ inheritance test to confirm the beneficiaries' identities. James spoke with account manager Griphock to ensure that the vault couldn’t be accessed by anyone other than those he designated without predetermined measures, regardless of who the person was or what methods they used.
Griphock was a bit offended by the doubts, but distrust and paranoia were normal in these times. Moreover, it wasn’t uncommon for both Voldemort and Dumbledore to have access to the contents of their respective followers’ vaults.
Not that James didn’t trust Dumbledore, but the less loopholes he left, the less likely things were to go wrong. The Potter Vault was accessed by a key—which anyone could take—and it held most of the family’s wealth, but James wouldn’t be able to relax unless he had a guarantee that no one besides his family could access a secure vault with a considerable amount of gold and resources. Inside that vault, James placed everything that Lily and his unborn child might need to survive hidden wherever they chose to go. This included false Muggle documents, Muggle coins from various countries, wizarding and Muggle clothes, reserve wands from their ancestors, healing potions, and polyjuice potion with hair samples from Muggles (with appearances matching the fake documents) kept separately along with corresponding images of each sample’s appearance. He also stored a series of artifacts that could be used defensively or offensively. It was an escape vault, with everything someone might need to flee and hide.
Or to fight. Anything that was necessary.
James waited for his son, Harry, to be born before taking Lily and the baby to the bank to register them for the vault access permission. Lils was surprised and touched by his precautions, but also sad.
“I can’t help but think that this vault will only be used if you or we both die,” she gave a sad smile as she said this, and James kissed the top of her head, but didn’t deny it. They both knew what they were risking when they decided to fight.
Baby Harry cried as his finger was pricked to register his blood for the vault's permission, but a quick spell stopped the bleeding, and a simple healing potion took care of the wound. Despite the crying and the blood, James felt that he could breathe easier knowing that if he weren’t around anymore, his child wouldn’t be left helpless. Harry and Lily could survive with this. He just didn’t store the invisibility cloak in the vault because he thought that if they wanted to escape, being seen entering Gringotts would be somewhat counterproductive. If it came to that, they could go to the bank with the cloak and take what they needed without anyone knowing.
When the time came, he just needed to buy enough time for them to escape.
Remus:
When he learned the news that Voldemort was going after the Potters, everyone discussed the possibility of fleeing to another country, but Dumbledore hinted that Voldemort would hunt them down anywhere they went. That would only leave the Potters away from any support from the Order, not to mention in danger.
Instead, the Fidelius Charm was proposed. It had some disadvantages, but it was the best option they had.
The Fidelius was supposed to make the Potter house completely impossible to find for anyone who didn’t know the secret, which could only be revealed by the Secret Keeper. The problem? The Keeper couldn’t live within the Fidelius. They could visit, yes. Live there, no. If that weren’t the case, James or Lily could be the Keeper and stay safe inside the house, and no one would ever know.
Because of this not-so-small problem, Sirius was chosen to be the Keeper since he was Harry’s godfather, and his own daughter would fall under the protection of the charm. As he would be the Keeper, Sirius was prepared to spend the next months or even years evading Death Eaters to keep his friends and the children safe.
Remus would visit the Potters from time to time and play with Lyra and Harry. Both children were being raised as siblings now that Sirius rarely could be present in his daughter’s life.
Lyra was a smart child, and by age three, she could already read, and her accidental magic outbursts seemed less and less… accidental. She enjoyed listening to Remus read books about magic theory, spells, runes, and transfiguration. He even caught her trying to draw runes with colored chalk, although it often looked like she was just scribbling nonsensically, even if her movements were quite decisive. It was like every time he heard Harry babbling incoherently as if he were in the middle of a serious conversation—this always made James and Lily coo like crazy, although Lyra would nod at the baby as if they were speaking the same baby language. Did babies really have their own language?
Harry was an excellent flyer, something James always boasted about, especially when Sirius could visit to brag about it. This had been happening since they discovered that Lyra hated flying despite her father’s attempts to teach her to overcome her fear.
Most of the time, however, Remus was out on missions for the Order, trying to recruit werewolves for the Light or at least keep them neutral, but it was difficult with the Ministry constantly limiting their freedoms. He had often been attacked by some particularly insulted packs at the idea of joining the oppressive Ministry. This earned him quite a few scars, but the ones that bothered him most were those on his face, marking him even more in a crowd.
He just wanted this to end so he could be with his pack and help take care of the pups.
Visits to the Potters had become increasingly infrequent with suspicions of a spy in the Order. Not that Remus couldn’t understand why someone would suspect him, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Yes, it was true that werewolves were on the Dark side and that Remus was in constant contact with others of his kind, but he had always been loyal.