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It’s been a long time since Lily has had a nightmare. Not since the leaves turned up golden, fluttering to the earth, not since spring showers and a fawn leaping back into the woods to join its mother.
She wakes silently with a wetness on her face.
And for a moment she just breathes–-chest caving in and expanding out. Her whole body quivers slightly every other gasping breath.
There’s warmth surrounding her on both sides. If only she could just open her mouth and say something to the men lying next to her. But her mouth is doing that wobbly thing mouths do when a person is about to breakdown in a bad way.
Lily does not want to 'breakdown in a bad way.'
James and Regulus are exhausted from yesterday. It’d been Harry’s birthday. They’d done all the silly lovely things one ought to do for a toddler. If she kisses one of them right now, they still might taste of sugar, no matter how well they’ve brushed their teeth.
Another breath heaves itself into her lungs;it feels scarring.
Everything’s fine. Voldemort died.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
The prophecy doesn't matter anymore.
Breathe, breathe….
Doesn’t, doesn’t, it doesn’t.
Brea–
Does it?
Is her darling boy in danger?
The sheets twist next to her and she isn’t sure who’s moving until they speak
“Evans?” Regulus’s voice is raspy and soft from being woken up.
She stops breathing–doesn’t even move.
“Lily,” He says, more alert and then he’s propping himself up on his elbows.
It’s silent for a while longer and she thinks maybe he’s gone to sleep but then there’s a hand on her head. She’s curled on one side, turned away from Regulus. He simply rests his hand there on her forehead, thumb swiping tenderly across the skin.
“Sweetheart,” Regulus smooths some of her hair away from her forehead. “I know you’re crying. Unfortunately, I'm really good at telling even when you don't want me too. What’s wrong?” His voice is so gentle it makes her ache all over.
“Reg–”
Her voice cracks in the stillness and she can’t get his full name out. She’s turning and reaching for him; her chest hitches pitfully. And just for a moment this old panic from the days where she thought no one might ever want her, seizes her. It’s gone in the blink of an eye once Regulus is cuddling her against him.
He presses his cheek to the top of her sweaty head. “Nightmare, darling?”
“Mmm,” Lily murmurs into his chest, panting slightly.
Regulus’s hand is pressed against the small of her back. His fingers wrap around the side of her, squeezing. If his aim is to get her to melt into a puddle, he’s awfully warm.
“What about?” It’s asked in low, rich, deep tones. Lily almost jumps but maintains her dignity by barely flinching at this new voice. James.
The other man eases in behind her. Strong brown arms come round her waist, hands resting over the curve of her belly. And it’s so warm–so caring–she wants to die if only for a second. Otherwise her heart might burst anyway from all this feeling.
“Harry. Harry,” she swallows thickly and Regulus cups her neck gently. “He came for him and then you were dead and then you were dead too.” She sobs and it’s an embarrassing, frantic thing
James noses against her neck, brushing ginger hair out of the way until she can feel the comforting pace of his breathing there when he lays his head there.
“That must've been so horrible, love. I’m so sorry,” he says.
“I-I’ve been fine , I swear,” and she hates how pathetic it sounds.
Regulus cradles her cheek against the palm of his hand. He tilts Lily’s face to meet his eyes,
“Evans, you’ve been through a trauma. It’s alright that it still affects you.”
And he’s talking about the fact that all three of them very nearly did die. Because it was sheer chance that Regulus had chosen to go to Sirius and he in turn had dragged him to Dumbledore. It wasn’t how his being a spy worked. But he didn’t know who to trust. So in Dumbledore’s office on a random Wednesday, out came everything about souls and eternal life and horcruxes . And the Dark Lord, He Who-Must Not be Named, Voldemort–came to finally be destroyed.
“But you and James…”
You’re not broken like me
James’s hand slides under her pajama shirt and it's soothing against her stomach where it settles.
“Regulus and I, what?” He asks.
LIly doesn’t answer for a moment. She presses her face into Regulus’s neck, closing her eyes against the swelling heat behind her eyes.
“I despise being weak,” she admits in a small voice. “You've both been wonderful and I’m a bloody wreck.”
Regulus pulls back just so he can look down into Lily’s eyes. “No one could accuse you of weakness and be telling the truth, my love.”
James presses a kiss against her shoulder and it sounds like he agrees; his voice is muffled by her freckled moonlight skin.
Suddenly she feels exhausted and she melts into Regulus further. Brings her hands up between the little space that exists between them and splays her fingers against his chest. James nestles his head against Lily's shoulder; the soft brush of his dark curls caresses her.
She’s stopped crying. They’re both just holding her between them, cradling her close.
When the door creaks open to their room, Regulus hears it first. He sees their little unarmed intruder first too. He smiles and nods at the little boy,
“Mummy--I want mummy,” Harry says. He’s adorable in a pajama set with mini nifflers on it. From anyone else it would seem demanding. But his voice is laden with sleep in that way children's voices get: so it's subdued and a little bit wanting in a way that breaks your heart.
Lily freezes and she looks up at Regulus, terrified that Harry will be able to tell she’s been crying. It’ll frighten him. She doesn’t want him to be frightened.
It’s James who puts her at ease though, mind reader that he is. Cause even though he can’t see her he says, “you’re fine, love. Even if he can tell you’ve had a scare, he won’t mind.”
She relaxes and then begins to slip away from them, stretching her hands out.
“Come here, sweet love,” she says softly, hoping Harry won’t mind that her voice is wobbly.
He toddles over, dark curls tumbling over into his eyes. Reaching the bed, he gazes up at Lily with wide brownish-green eyes. It’s a wonder he’s got any green at all. Then again genetics work in mysterious ways.
Harry begins to try to climb up with his parents but is unsuccessful due to him not having enough leg. James reaches down and pulls him up, depositing him carefully into Lily’s arms.
Harry turns around and wraps his arms around Lily’s neck, pressing his small round face into her neck, warm tiny child feet pressing into her thighs.
Lily breathes in deeply and Harry smells like her: something soft and vanilly with something sharper like citrus. He also smells like Regulus and James: pinewood, apples, and maybe something sweet like caramel, and then bitter like the sea.
“M’mmy,” he whispers against her neck. “You had bad dream?”
Lily’s heart clenches but she doesn’t want to lie to him. Not if he’s somehow already sensed it through magic.
James and Regulus are leaning against each other, arms about the other, watching Lily and Harry.
“Yes, my darling, Mummy did have a bad dream. Did you have one too?”
Harry whimpers softly against her neck and she takes it as a yes.
She strokes his back with her hand. “Oh that’s not very nice, is it?”
Harry shakes his head and his curls bounce up and down.
“Well then,” Lilly cards her fingers back through Harry’s curls and kisses his head, “shall we make sure that none of the bad dreams come back tonight?”
Regulus and James have moved closer and it makes Lily soft to see the concern that they’ve shared over her extends to their son. Of course it does. They love him just as much.
They move to the side of her so that Harry can see them.
"Would you like mummy and daddy and papa to cuddle you?" Lily asks, her voice a soft murmur into Harry's ear.
“Cuddles,” he repeats in a small voice. It comes out a little uncertain. Lily’s not sure where Harry gets it from because all three of them are very hands on with this boy. But he gets shy and quiet sometimes. Like he thinks maybe he’s too much. Then again, maybe she knows exactly where he gets it from: that’s a little bit of all three of them.
“These'll be special cuddles. Anti-Nightmare ones, yeah,” and that’s James. He's holding Harry's face with one hand, thumb stroking his cheek.
Regulus just kisses Harry’s head. He’s not always good with words when it comes to comforting Harry but he makes up for it with physical comfort.
"Wh't's anti?" Harry mumbles in a sleep-tired voice.
James's face does something complicated like he might melt. "It's um...Well it means against or--Think of it as 'not for,' baby. That's best for you, I reckon."
Harry just nods his head slowly against Lily's chest and she has to look away from James looking at Harry because it's so fond she feels she's intruding.
Eventually, they all find a way to cuddle with Harry between them. He’s curled into Lily’s chest where she sits up against the headboard. James lays on the side of her, head on her thigh, hand resting on Lily’s over Harry’s bottom, their fingers twined. Regulus is on her other side. He’s not lying all the way down like James is so his head rests against Harry’s little back.
They’ve been trying (poorly) to break Harry out of the habit of sleeping in bed with them but it seems like they’ll have to give it up just for one more night. Lily can feel the warmth of her baby through her pajama shirt. Every time he breathes she has a reason to be happy.
Eventually James and Regulus sit up shoulder to shoulder with her. They wrap their arms around her and around Harry and she feels safe.