Doubts of a Mother

Lily glanced down at their baby boy, sleeping peacefully in her arms. “So beautiful,” she murmured, brushing back his hair off of his forehead. Their beautiful boy. Harry James Potter. Perfect in every way. Hearing footsteps, she turned around to face her husband. He smiled and kissed her gently.

 “James… I’m scared. What if he’s the one?” Lily said once they parted.

He shook his head, smiling reassuringly once more. “Snowflake, he’ll be safe. Peter won’t tell a soul.”

She thought for a moment. Peter was trustworthy, but he had always been the weaker boy of the Marauders. “What if he does tell though? Some people crack under pressure…”

James’s face lost its crooked smile and she knew she had hit a nerve. “Peter is one of my mates. He’s like a brother, Lily, he would never do that. You know it.”           

“But James… You never know what people do under pressure! And what if he doesn’t purposely do it? It’s just… There are too many risks.” She tried to keep her voice quiet and calm, but bits of hysteria crept into it. She wanted her son safe as any mother would.

He shook his head, his face as serious as she had ever seen it. “Peter won’t do it. Harry is absolutely protected. We’re here for him. Sirius is here for him. Remus is here for him and so is Dumbledore. You have nothing to worry about.” James kissed his sleeping son’s forehead after he spoke, wanting to make sure he stayed asleep.

 Lily was still a bit worried, but she nodded. “You’re right. Harry will be safe. We’ll be here to protect him until the very end.” They would even be willing give up their lives to protect him. She kissed James lightly and their adorable baby woke up, crying. They tried to resist laughing at Harry ruining the serious moment, but found they couldn’t. Together the Potters left the room for the kitchen, doubts assured.

A week later, on October 31rst 1981, James and Lily Potter were dead and a legend told for ages to come began. And right on Harry’s forehead, right where James had kissed him, was a scar.