It was Christmas Eve, and the village of Godric’s Hollow was quiet except for the soft sounds of singing coming from the small church in the center of town. Lights twinkled and lined the shops on the high street as last-minute shoppers hurried past to get ready for the holiday. It was an ordinary winter night except if someone were to walk by one of the little houses in the village and peer in through the window they’d see shiny shimmering baubles flying around the sitting room.
A young wizard with untamed black hair named James Potter, who was the owner of the house, held his 5-month-old son, whose dark hair was starting to grow in as messy as his own, and laughed gently at the wide-eyed look on baby Harry’s face as the baubles zoomed by.
“You enjoying decorating your first Christmas tree, Harry?” James summoned a gold bauble closer to Harry who tried to grasp the ball with his tiny little hands. “Look at you! You’re going to be a great quidditch player, aren’t you? Lilly! Check it out, your son is going to be the youngest seeker ever!”
Lily came into the room from the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon and chocolate followed her in. Even though it was going to be a small dinner tomorrow, just the three Potters, their neighbor Bathilda Bagshot, and of course James’ best friend, Sirius Black, Lily had spent the best couple of days prepping food and baking desserts. It was a lot of effort for a four-person dinner (Harry didn’t count as he’d be eating mashed parsnips) but James knew Lily was using the cooking to keep herself busy. When one was confined to stay inside, hiding for an unknowable length of time, spending the week cooking for one dinner was an easy way to pass the time.
“Oh, Harry! Are you helping Dada decorate the tree?” Lilly cooed as she took her son from James’ grasp and ran a hand over the tiny whips of dark baby hair. James swished his wand and all the floating baubles circled the tree once more before landing on their designated branches.
“You missed a spot on the tree, Potter,” Lily quipped as she sat herself down on the sofa and adjusted Harry so he could feed.
“I take no criticisms or feedback regarding my decorating, Evans.” But James flicked his wand anyway with a smile and the ornaments rearranged themselves on the tree so they were more evenly dispersed.
James joined his wife and son on the couch, pointing his wand at the wireless to fill their quiet house with Christmas carols. James wrapped his arms around Lily bringing his family physically closer to his side and with a content sigh, Lily rested her head on his shoulder. As James looked down at his feeding son, he began to idly slip Lily’s dark red hair through his fingertips.
If a seventeen-year-old James Potter had wandered into a divination class and a classmate told him that in one year's time, at the age of eighteen, he’d join an underground resistance group and be married to the love of his life he’d simply shrug. Of course, that all sounded correct, nor surprises there. But if the student had then told him that a year after that, at the age of nineteen, he and Lily would be expecting a baby he’d probably laugh at the thought. Furthermore, if the classmate went on to say that at the age of twenty James would remove his family from the front lines of war to go into hiding because a prophecy had put his son in ultimate danger, he’d think it all a ridiculous prank.
But that is exactly how his life had turned out.
And even though Harry’s arrival into the world was unplanned and happened a lot sooner than Lily or he had anticipated he didn’t regret it one bit. He loved being a father and he absolutely loved that he got to be Harry’s father in particular. Everything Harry did was amazing, James was in awe of every little move and sound he made. He was pretty sure no baby in the world was a perfect as their Harry.
“Did you hear from Remus yet? I still have the tin of Christmas biscuits I made for him and some pain potions.” Lily interrupted his thoughts.
James tore his eyes from his family to look at the clock on the fireplace mantle. “I don’t think he’ll be stopping by tonight.”
“I worry about him. I don’t think he’s been taking good care of himself. He acts like it is such a burden for me to brew him potions but it really isn’t. It’s nice to feel useful like I'm still helping the cause, you know.”
James looked back at Lily and attempted to sound reassuring, the longer they stayed in hiding the more they worried about their friends and felt helpless to ensure that everyone was safe. “I know. And Remus knows that too. He's just being exceptionally Moony about everything lately.”
“Whatever Dumbledore has him doing is messing with him. He should ask Dumbledore to give him a break or something.”
“He won’t do that.” James ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “How about this? We can ask Sirius to pop by Moony’s parents’ house after Christmas and leave -” With a little gurgle and a giggle Harry interrupted the conversation. “You finished eating, mate? Want to join the conversation?”
Harry’s attentive eyes looked up at James as he switched his attention from Lily to his son. “You looking forward to Father Christmas tomorrow? Did you ask him about the new Comet racing broom?”
“Oh please, James, do not corrupt our son into a quidditch playing hooligan before he can even walk.”
“What are you talking about, Lil? You saw the way he followed the ornaments around the room! He’s going to be a natural!” James exclaimed. Harry was too young to get on a broom but next year he’d be the right age for a toy broomstick and James was greatly looking forward to teaching his son how to fly.
Lily nuzzled herself and Harry closer into James and started humming along to the Christmas tune on the wireless. A warm wave of comfort washed over James. She still smelled of cinnamon.
Despite the terror.
Despite the isolation.
Despite the prophecy that threatened to take all of it away. James couldn’t recall ever being happier than the Christmas he spent holding his wife and their soft, giggly, beautiful baby boy in his arms.