IF THEY LIVED (Harry Potter)

EPILOGUE

31st of July 1982

James Potter apparated in front of his house in Portree, Scotland. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air and smiled as the loud crowds of Diagon Alley were replaced by the waves crashing against the shore and the wind, swooshing past his ears.

He walked towards the front door of the cottage, carrying Harry's birthday present (a toy Quaffle) and a grocery bag, filled with bits and pieces Lily and Sirius requested he picked up in Diagon Alley (and a ton of Butterbeer). He could hear the faint music escaping through the walls of the house - Sirius was probably playing the piano again. Since they moved to Portree, Sirius spent most of his time playing the piano, which was (in his words) the only useful thing his mother ever taught him.

James opened the front door and as he expected, his ears were met with Sirius's version of Chopin's Nocturne in C minor (Op. 48 No. 1), which was, in James's opinion, much more dramatic than Chopin intended it to be. 

"James?" he could hear Lily's call, followed by her footsteps exiting the kitchen. He glanced through the door to the dining room to see her walking towards him with her hands placed on her hips. She was wearing an apron and her hair was done up in a messy bun. James smiled and walked towards her.

"Hello love," he said and kissed her cheek. He could see Lily struggling not to smile.

"Please tell me you didn't forget to get the Flobberworm Mucus again," she said sternly. James rolled his eyes and pulled out the bottle, filled with the slimy, green mucus from the grocery bag. 

"And the Porcupine Quills?" Lily asked. James nodded solemnly. 

"I also got the Powdered Unicorn Hair and the Valerian sprigs you asked for," he said, before she could open her mouth to continue her interrogation. Finally she smiled and pecked him on the lips.

"Thank you," she said and took the grocery bag from his hands and took it into the kitchen. James followed her and sat down to observe her as she placed the purchased potion ingredients in the cupboard. Although the Potters had plenty of money to buy Sleeping Draughts and Draughts of Peace for the entire population of the Isle of Skye, Lily insisted on brewing her own.

James's gaze travelled from Lily to the table, where a big chocolate cake was sitting, waiting to be decorated and presented to the two-year-old, who was going to attempt to blow out the two candles that they were going to stick on top of it. James's chest began to fill up with pride for the 46th time that day, as he remembered, once again, that his baby boy was already two years old. 

"Where's Harry?" James asked Lily urgently, as he, once again, felt the need to shower him with kisses and tell him that he is, in fact, two years old now.

"Do you want to explain to him that he is two years old again?" Lily raised her eyebrow.

"No," James said sheepishly, "I was just wondering..."

"He's asleep," Lily shook her head, knowing exactly what his intentions were. "He's still got 20 minutes of nap-time left, so don't go waking him up."

"Okay, Mrs Bossy," James muttered, causing Lily to raise her eyebrow once again.

"What did you just call me?"

"Nothing," James said quickly as he got up, kissed her cheek and rushed out of the room. He went across the hallway towards the stairs, trying to decide if it was really worth waking Harry up and risking having a very grumpy toddler to deal with for the rest of the afternoon.

Finally, he decided against waking Harry up and entered the living room, where Sirius was still playing the piano.

"Merlin's left eyebrow, Padfoot," he said as he sat down on the sofa. "We're celebrating a birthday today, not a funeral."