So Like An Old Tale, Part Two

TITLE: So Like An Old Tale
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: James/Lily, Harry/Draco
SUMMARY: James' jealousy afflicts and twists the lives of two generations.
NOTES: AU based on Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. Written for the Classic Canon Challenge. Thanks to ntamara for the beta.



"He's going to be furious if you do this," Lily said, her voice sounding weaker than usual.

Molly turned to look at her incredulously. "Lily. You have just had a baby. No healer, no nothing, and thank Merlin I've done it enough times to know how to handle it, and heaven alone knows what your bastard of a husband is plotting down there. I have to do something."

Lily nodded, looking tired. "I know, I just...I feel like I scarcely know James now. I'm afraid. Don't let him hurt the baby, Molly."

"You should worry more about me hurting him," Molly said grimly. "I've a strong desire to shove this wand right up his-"

"Molly!"

"Well, I do." Molly's indignance was unabated.

Lily smiled and closed her eyes. "Give him hell, Molly."

Molly undid James' locking charms, and came down the stairs, the dark-haired infant cradled in her arms, her expression forbidding.

Outside James' study, Arthur and Peter stood. At her approach, they all looked faintly nervous. "Now, Molly," Arthur said, swallowing a bit. "No one can see him. Especially not you."

"He hasn't slept all night," Peter added.

"Hasn't slept? I should hope not, the foul man!" Molly had her wand drawn without even discomfiting the sleeping child at all. "Now get out of my way, Peter Pettigrew, or it'll be so much the worse for you. And Arthur, if you so much as think about trying to stop me...!" Her tone was a more potent threat than any spoken.

She pushed past the two befuddled men, and threw open the study door. "James Potter, you get up this instant and look what you've done!"

James, who had been playing darts, stopped, a dart still poised for flight in his hand. He glared at Arthur and Peter. "I told you not to let her in here."

Arthur shrugged helplessly. "She - she insisted..."

"Fine man you are, Arthur. Can't even keep hold of your wife?" James' tone was unpleasant.

"Don't you dare speak that way to my Arthur," Molly snapped. "And this needed to be done, as he very well knows, so don't you even behave as though he's done something wrong."

Arthur gave a wry smile. "Whem Molly sets her mind on something, there's usually a good reason. This needed to be done and she'll not falter," he repeated, under his breath.

Molly patted him, then said, glaring at James, "I've come from your good wife."

James hooted. "Good wife? Arthur, your wife's idea of good ought to make you nervous. Good wife?" He flung the dart savagely at the board, missing by a mile and nearly hitting Peter.

Molly's eyes snapped with anger. "Good wife and so I say and I'd make her good by killing you if it wouldn't wake the baby. Your baby, James."

"Get her out of here," James said, in a low voice, glaring at Arthur and Peter, who hesitantly, unhappily started forward.

"Touch me if you want to lose an eye," Molly said coldly, then returned her attention to James. "I've come from your good wife, and I've brought you the son she bore to you." She laid the quietly sleeping baby on the ground at James' feet. "Your son, James."

James peered down at the baby for half a moment, then stepped back. "Give it back to her and get her out of here." This time no one moved. "Afraid of his wife," James sneered.

"I wish you were," Molly said tartly. "Then you'd call your own children yours."

"This is not my child," James said bitterly. "This is Lucius' brat. Go lay it at his feet, you meddling old bitch." But when the baby began to cry, he picked it up automatically all the same.

"Not yours?" Molly laughed helplessly. "So much like you it's the worse for him." She moved to stand beside James. "Look there - what Malfoy ever had that crop of black hair? And your idiotic stubborn chin, and see how he furrows his brow? Just like you right now," she added, annoyed.

James ran a wondering finger over the fine, dark down on the baby's head. But he whispered, unhappily, "It isn't mine..." And then he glared fiercely at Arthur and Peter. "Get her out of here. For fuck's sake, throw her in the fire for all I care, along with my whore of a wife."

Molly's face went rather white, but she stood her ground. "James. Five years ago, you swore - you swore to Dumbledore that you wouldn't misuse your power. That you'd uphold the crumbling Ministry, not fight against it, that you'd help people, not bully them just like you did when you were a little ruin of a boy and the only thing that would stop you was Lucius giving you a good pounding. You've become a tyrant."

"Tyrant?" James was incredulous. "Would you dare to stand there and call me a tyrant if I were? Wouldn't you fear being killed for that? But no, I let you stand there and prate away at me. Do you and Arthur want to try and manage without my help? Do you think I asked to be the only one left other than Lucius? And then he betrayed me..." His voice was still soft so as not to wake the baby, who was sleeping once more. Molly snorted, and his face hardened. "Get her out."

"Oh, I'll go," Molly said, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I'll go and leave your child here with you. And if you hurt him..." She smacked away Peter's hand; he had crept forward when she said she was ready to go. Giving Arthur a pleading look, she swept out of the room.

James looked down at the baby in his arms for a moment longer, then thrust him into Arthur's arms. "Go throw him in the fire."

"No." Arthur's tone was quiet, and resolved. "You're mad, James. This is your child. No one else's. And even if it weren't, that's murder."

"I don't care," James said fitfully. "You think I'm going to sit here and listen to him call me dad, and know, every single time...?"

"I expect you to not kill your own son, James. I expect you to act like a man." Arthur spoke sternly.

"Oh, fine." James threw up his hands. "You want him to live? Fine, but he'll never call me dad... It would be kinder to kill him now, but we must protect your precious sensibilities. Take him away and leave him somewhere. I swear to Merlin, Arthur, if you don't, I'll kill you and Molly both. I'll strangle you both with my bare hands. You leave him in the middle of the forest and let him manage there."

"Fine," Arthur said evenly. "I swear it." He shifted the sleeping baby slightly, then turned, and carried him out of the room.

*****

"Well, this should settle the matter once and for all," Sirius said, carelessly, sniffing appreciatively at the rain-drenched air as they walked up the path to the house at Godric's Hollow.

Remus wasn't quite so sure. "Maybe. I don't know - I'd have felt better if Dumbledore came himself. James would have to listen to him, then. As it is...I don't know."

"Look, we have Dumbledore's word that nothing happened, and that Lily is completely innocent. He can't want anything more than that."

Remus paused to kick at a bit of loose turf by the side of the path, getting a good deal of mud on his shoes. "Sirius...James hasn't seemed well lately. Everything that was all right five years ago - him taking on all this power with Lucius - well, it just doesn't seem like such a wonderful idea anymore."

"It's just until the Ministry reestablishes itself," Sirius said, as if by rote. "Until then, we need people who can take charge and keep things going. And the Potters and the Malfoys were the only families not destroyed by the war."

"The Blacks..." Remus said uncertainly.

"Were on the wrong side of things as you know very well," Sirius said, sounding tired. "I'm just lucky James never held that against me."

"The Malfoys weren't exactly as pure as snow," Remus replied, in a wry tone.

"No, but that's why Dumbledore took Lucius, so he'd end up all right. And he has, hasn't he? Look, Moony, this is working. And even if it isn't the best system in the world...well, it's better than the alternative, isn't it? The Ministry useless and everyone scrambling for power?"

"All right," Remus said heavily. "All right. Let's get out of the rain and get this over with."

*****

James stood in the middle of the large drawing room, when Peter came down, trying to look as though he were leading Lily instead of following in her wake. Lily was pale and swaying, traces of blood still on her nightgown, but her face was resolute, and she stood without any assistance, though Molly stood close by in case she were needed.

"Well," she said, quietly. "What now?"

"What now?" James smiled at her pleasantly. "Well, now it's time for everyone to hear what you've done, and then we'll go from there."

She shook her head. "If I tell the truth, you'll call it lies, and I won't lie for you to have you call it truth, James."

"I never heard that whores were particularly honest," he replied, scowling.

"Maybe not. But that has nothing to do with me."

"Well, you won't own it."

"No. What are you accusing me of, James? Loving Lucius? I do. As your friend. As our friend. And this ridiculous conspiracy you've concocted - Severus was honest. As honest as you used to be." Lily sounded very tired, and when Molly came forward to help her sit down, she didn't refuse the assistance.

"Yes, you know he's gone. What was your part? To kill me once they'd fled? Is that it, Lily-Flower?" James' voice was strained.

She winced at hearing that nickname at such a moment. "My life," she said quietly, "stands at the mercy of your dreams."

"Oh, dreams!" James looked at Peter, and continued in an expansive tone. "I only dreamed that you had a bastard by Lucius. And if you're looking for it, you can stop. Because it's gone. Arthur took it out to leave it to die. Apparently he can be a man once in a while." He glanced at Molly ironically. "And as for you, you've nothing better to hope for and quite a lot worse to fear." His face was hard and cold, completely closed off.

Lily looked sick. "Then kill me, you sick fucker. Do you think I'm afraid? After you killed our baby? Do you think I care what happens to me, when I don't have you and I don't have him? Tell me, James, what's so very wonderful in my life at this point that I should fear to die? You can kill me if you want, but I'll never tell you back the lies you want to soothe your own conscience."

Remus and Sirius walked into the room. Sirius looked confused, while Remus' face darkened and he went to kneel by Lily's chair. "All right?" he said softly and she nodded at him through the tears that were threatening.

"Well? What did Dumbledore say? It's true, isn't it? All of it." James looked half-excited, half-devastated.

Sirius held out a red envelope. "Go on," he said, rather angrily, "open it."

James carefully ripped the envelope open, and at once, a voice, awful with rage, filled the room. "Lily is chaste, Lucius blameless, Severus a decent man and you, James, have become a tyrant such as I could never have imagined. And never imagine that you'll have any other heirs until you find what you have cast away." The envelope began burning, and James dropped it quickly, watching as smoke rose up from the carpet.

Molly was in tears. "Oh, thank Merlin." Lily rose to her feet, hope illuminating her worn face, making her green eyes shine, making her beautiful once more.

James looked blankly at Sirius. "That's what Dumbledore sent?"

Sirius nodded, and Remus said, "That's it. Now will you please end this?"

James stood for a long moment. "Senile. Dumbledore's senile. We'll go ahead with this. We'll go ahead."

He had barely finished speaking when a heavy wind blew open the french doors, dousing the candles and the whole room fell dark, save for the glare of lightning. A clap of thunder sounded immediately, so loudly that Molly shrieked. Lily fell to the ground with a cry.

James looked around him in wonder, then drew a deep breath. "The gods are angry," he whispered.

Molly knelt beside Lily, frightened, as Peter hurried around, relighting the candles. "She's dying." There was desparation in her voice, and she looked up at James, hate blazing in her eyes. "She's dying and you - you thing - come and look! Look what you've done!"

"Take her to our bedroom," James said softly. "She'll be all right. She's just scared." He walked over and stood in front of the open doors, letting the wind drive the rain onto his body. "Everything's going to be fine."

Molly used a quick Mobilicorpus spell, and left the room, her face gray with anxiety.

"Forgive me," James whispered, the cold drops stinging his face. "Forgive me. I'll reconcile with Lucius, start over again with Lily, call Snape back..." Tears mingled with the spray on his face. "I told him to murder Lucius...thank Merlin. Thank Merlin he didn't - Severus...I asked him to poison my best friend. And they fled - and I-" His voice grew choked. "I..." But there were no more words.

Peter, Sirius and Remus stood in silence for a time, no one quite sure what to do, until Molly burst into the room. "Murderer!" she screamed. "Murderer, kill me now, kill me so that I don't have to bear this! I can't bear this..."

Remus turned to her anxiously. "What is it?"

She ignored him, addressing herself to James alone. "What will you do now, tyrant? Will you kill me for telling the truth? You betrayed Lucius and it only showed you for an ass, and damned ungrateful for everything he'd been to you. And you would have made poor Severus a murderer - hardly anything compared to what you had in store for us, was it? And casting out your son, your own son..." Her voice was thick with tears, and she swallowed several times. "And now Lily's dead, and you've killed her, and it's all over." She sat down heavily, hiding her face in her hands.

"It can't be," Sirius said incredulously.

"Do you think I don't know a dead body when I see one, Sirius Black? Did she seem to be in good health to you? She'd just had a baby, and you drag her down here for this ridiculous charade, and then kill everything inside of her. Oh, go look, go look. But you'll not find an ounce of breath in her, Lily, oh Lily." She glared at James. "And don't you dare be sorry. You could spend twenty years on your knees with all these idiots in attendance and the gods would still be sickened by you, you foul tyrant, murderer, murderer..." She broke down, and when Remus wrapped his arms around her, she didn't resist.

"Go on," James said, in a queer, quiet voice. "Go on...you can hardly say too much to me now. There's nothing you can say that I don't deserve."

But Molly had no more words, only tears.

"All right," James said softly, tears still in his eyes. "All right, take me to her."

*****

Arthur stepped nervously through the Forbidden Forest, his eyes wary, doing his best to keep from jostling the baby. It was just his luck to have misapparated in his distress, and now he had to find his way to Hogwarts not up the pleasant path from Hogsmeade, but through the dark and dangerous woods.

The sound of hooves in the distance made Arthur decide that drawing his wand might not be a bad thing, but when he shifted the baby to do so, he began wailing, like a thing possessed. Apparating evidently hadn't sat well with him anyway, and the constant jouncing as they moved through the woods.

"Shh," Arthur whispered, frightened. Who knew what kind of predators the baby's cries might attract?

But the child's cries continued, choking off into whimpers occasionally before returning to full volume.

Frustrated, Arthur stopped, sitting down on a fallen log. "There, there..." He began bouncing the baby on his knees. "Everything's going to be all right, lad. We're going to see Dumbledore. He raised your dad, you know." Arthur's brow furrowed as he remembered that Dumbledore had reared both of the child's potential fathers, then snorted. "As if you could belong to anyone but James with that hair. Anyway, Dumbledore will keep you safe until your father regains his senses. Soon, hopefully."

Arthur stopped bouncing and shifted the baby to his shoulder, rubbing the small back gently. The cries were beginning to taper off, and Arthur kept up the low, soothing murmur. "Not a Weasley," he said, rather fondly, "but you're wrapped in a Weasley blanket all right." He knew Molly's careful knitting quite well. "And clothes that your mum picked out just for you from a Muggle store. Imagine! When you grow up, your mum can teach you all about Muggles, and then you can go into the Ministry and put me out of a job, yes you can..."

Harry quieted finally at this pleasing prospect of his professional future, and lay still on Arthur's shoulder. The man was just about to stand up when he caught sight of something, shining in the bushes. Eyes. Several of them, set very close together.

Arthur swallowed, and spared a thought for Molly and his sons, but there was nothing to be done, nothing at all, except to place Harry very gently in a hollow beside the log, and stand up, wand out. He moved across the clearing quickly, and shot a stunning spell at the thing.

It didn't work in the sense of stunning it, but it did make the beast forget about the quietly sleeping baby as it went after the man who was attacking, eight legs scuttling quickly across the clearing, as Arthur tried to flee.

Exit, pursued by an Acromantula.

*****

The lantern cast great, swinging arcs of light as Rubeus Hagrid tromped through the woods, intent on finding the source of the screams that had made Fang howl in the safety of their cottage. It didn't take too long, though, until he found a skeleton, picked perfectly clean. Its identity was impossible to ascertain, but its freshness was undeniable: gouts of blood still spattered the ground.

"Ah," he murmured unhappily. "Aragog's babies gettin' hungry again. Poor chap."

He was just thinking about going to find a shovel and bury the remains when another sound stopped him: a high, thin cry. Fang loped off to investigate, and Hagrid followed more slowly, lantern held high.

The crying led him to a small clearing, and there, tucked into a hollow near a fallen tree, was a baby. Hagrid looked down at it in astonishment for a moment, then picked it up, carefully. The little baby fit easily in his large hands, and he spent a moment looking through its wrappings, hoping from some clue as to the child's identity.

The baby shifted restlessly for a moment, but then fell back asleep, not even stirring when Hagrid checked the tags on the infant nightshirt that he wore.

"Ah," Hagrid said, frowning a bit as he looked at the Marks and Spencer tags. "Muggle baby." He wrapped the child back up in the blanket, and held him close for a moment while he considered. "Well, Muggles gotta go wi' Muggles, I know that much. An' there's that new lot o' cottages on the far side o' the forest...Professor Snape was complainin' about those just the other day. Like as not, yeh got lost from there."

Hagrid nodded, and set off tramping through the forest, Fang following. The man's body was forgotten: the living baby was far more important. He continued until he came free of the forest, off of the magical territory, and into Muggle Scotland.

There was indeed a neat little cluster of cottages not at all far, and Hagrid looked at all of them, a bit nervously, trying to decide what to do. He could hardly go up to them all and ask if they'd lost a baby in the middle of the night, could he? And what if they all said no? They had to take the baby...

"Right." Hagrid looked at the tiny baby seriously. "Little man, I'm afraid we're gonna have t'leave yeh here. Seems like you oughta have a name, though...just in case yeh aren' theirs...Harder to give up somethin' with a name." Hagrid thought for a moment, then spent a long time fishing around in his coat before coming out with a bit of paper and a pencil. "What t'name yeh, though? Well, yeh go' a nice mop o' hair...S'pose Harry would do, then, yeah?" He looked at the baby as if asking his approval. The child slept on unaware. "Well, it's better than nothin'."

Hagrid wrote out on a scrap of paper, very carefully, Take Care of Harry. He tucked it into the soft receiving blanket, and moved up the steps of the closest cottage. Very carefully, he laid the baby down on the front stoop, pausing to look at the innocent child rather tenderly. It was a shame, really, that he was a Muggle. "Sleep well, little Harry."

He sniffed a bit as he walked back towards the forest, castigating himself as he went. "Always gettin' attached too quick, you are. That's a Muggle baby, an' it belongs to the Muggles."

And on the front steps of the Dursleys' summer cottage, Harry Potter slept on. In a few hours' time he would be awakened by the terrified screams of his Aunt Petunia. His uncle would spend the next few days insisting that this was not some bastard of his that one of his mistresses had foisted on them, and by the time the entire question was resolved, it was determined that it would be too humiliating to take the baby to the authorities, when they would have to explain why they had kept him for so long. Harry Potter did not yet know any of this, but slept on, as quietly as his mother, who lay cold and still hundreds of miles away.