The autumn wind rustled through the maple trees lining the quiet street in Forest Hills, Queens. It was well past midnight when Professor McGonagall finally abandoned her feline form, transforming from the tabby cat that had been perched on the Parkers' front fence into her familiar stern-faced human appearance. She smoothed her emerald robes with practiced efficiency and adjusted her pointed hat with a sharp tug.
"You were right to suggest this location, Minerva," came the gentle voice of Albus Dumbledore as he appeared with barely a whisper of displaced air, his arrival marked only by the faint scent of lemon drops. His long silver beard caught the streetlight as he approached the modest two-story home, his eyes already taking in every detail of the neighborhood with keen interest. "Though I confess, I'm not entirely certain how to approach this particular conversation. It's not every day one explains the existence of magic to unsuspecting relatives."
McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line, her Scottish accent crisp with concern. "They have no idea, do they? About Lily's... abilities? Not the slightest inkling?"
"None whatsoever. As far as Ben and May Parker know, their young cousin Lily Evans was simply a bright girl who went off to boarding school in Scotland and later married James Potter, a fellow student she met there." Dumbledore's blue eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, were heavy with sadness tonight. "Lily was quite adamant about protecting her Muggle relatives from our world. She felt it was safer for everyone involved."
"Hmm." McGonagall adjusted her spectacles with a disapproving sniff. "While I understand her reasoning, it does make our current situation rather more complicated, doesn't it?"
"Indeed it does, Minerva. Indeed it does."
The distant sound of a motorcycle engine growing steadily louder interrupted their quiet conversation. Both wizards looked up as Hagrid's enormous form descended from the night sky, his flying motorbike puttering with mechanical hiccups as it made its surprisingly gentle landing on the street. The bike gave one final sputter before falling silent.
"Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid called softly, his massive frame moving with unexpected delicacy as he dismounted. His voice was thick with emotion, barely controlled grief evident in every syllable. "I've got him here. Little Harry." He carefully extracted a bundle of blankets from the motorcycle's sidecar, cradling it as though it contained the most precious thing in the world. The bundle stirred slightly, revealing a sleeping infant with a distinctive lightning bolt-shaped cut on his forehead.
"How is he, Hagrid?" McGonagall asked, her usual stern demeanor softening considerably as she gazed at the child. There was genuine maternal concern in her voice that she rarely allowed others to hear.
"Sleeping like a baby, he is. Hasn't made a sound the whole journey, bless him." Hagrid's black eyes were wet with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. "Can't believe James and Lily are gone, Professor. Just can't believe it. They were good people, the best. And little Harry here..." His voice broke slightly.
"I know, Hagrid." Dumbledore's voice was infinitely gentle, the kind of tone reserved for moments of deepest sorrow. "Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. And now we must ensure their son has the chance to grow up in the peace they died to secure."
McGonagall cleared her throat delicately. "Perhaps we should proceed? The longer we wait, the more difficult this becomes."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly, then looked toward the house with its warm yellow porch light. "We must wake them. This cannot wait until morning." He approached the front door and knocked three times, each rap measured, respectful, but unmistakably purposeful.
After several long minutes punctuated by the distant sound of footsteps on stairs and muffled voices, the porch light flickered on. The door opened to reveal a man in his early thirties with kind eyes, tousled brown hair, and the sort of face that immediately put people at ease. Ben Parker squinted against the sudden brightness, his expression shifting from drowsy confusion to growing concern as he took in the unusual sight of three strangers on his doorstep—one of them holding what appeared to be a baby.
"Can I help you folks? It's awfully late for—" Ben paused, his natural Midwestern politeness warring with protective instincts as he noticed the infant. "Is everything alright?"
"Mr. Parker," Dumbledore interrupted gently, his voice carrying the weight of authority and tragedy. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore. This is Professor McGonagall and my colleague Hagrid. We come with grave news about your wife's cousin, Lily Potter."
Ben's face immediately transformed, all traces of sleepiness vanishing as genuine alarm took its place. "Lily? What's happened? Is she—May!" he called over his shoulder, his voice urgent but controlled. "May, you need to come here. Now."
Quick footsteps hurried down the stairs, and soon May Parker appeared beside her husband, her auburn hair hastily pulled back in a messy bun, a floral robe wrapped hastily around her nightgown. She was shorter than Ben, with expressive dark eyes that immediately took in the scene with sharp intelligence. Her gaze fixed on the baby in Hagrid's massive arms.
"Oh my God, is that—? Lily's baby?" May stepped forward instinctively, her maternal instincts kicking in as she noticed the child. "What's wrong? Where are Lily and James? Are they hurt?" Her New York accent became more pronounced with her rising anxiety.
"Wait, wait, wait," she continued, her mind racing as she processed the scene. "Three strangers show up at my door after midnight with my cousin's baby, and you're professors? Professors of what? And why does he—" she gestured at Hagrid, "—look like he just stepped off the set of a Viking movie?"
McGonagall's eyebrows rose slightly at May's rapid-fire questioning. "Mrs. Parker, perhaps—"
"And another thing," May interrupted, now fully in protective mode, "how do I know you are who you say you are? You could be anybody. Ben, should we be letting strangers with a baby into our house?"
"May," Ben said gently, placing a calming hand on her shoulder, "let's hear what they have to say."
"I'm just saying, this is all very strange, Ben. Very, very strange."
Dumbledore's expression grew even more grave. "Mrs. Parker, your caution is both understandable and admirable. Perhaps we might come inside? This is a conversation best had in private, and I assure you, we mean no harm to you or your family."
Ben and May exchanged worried glances. Ben's natural inclination to help others warred with his protective instincts, while May continued to study the unusual group with suspicious eyes.
"Please," Hagrid spoke up, his voice breaking slightly. "It's about little Harry here. He needs help."
Something in the giant man's voice—pure, unfeigned grief—seemed to reach May. Her expression softened slightly. "Alright. But I'm warning you, any funny business and I'm calling the police. Ben's got a baseball bat, and I know how to use a rolling pin."
"I don't doubt it for a moment," Dumbledore said with the first hint of his usual twinkle returning to his eyes.
They led the unusual group into their modest living room, May immediately reaching for baby Harry as Hagrid carefully, almost reverently, transferred the sleeping child to her arms. She cradled him naturally, her face softening with wonder even as concern deepened the lines around her eyes.
"He's beautiful," she whispered, her voice suddenly tender as she looked down at the child. Then she looked up sharply, her protective instincts reasserting themselves. "But where are his parents? Why are you bringing him to us in the middle of the night? And why does he have this mark on his forehead?"
Ben moved to look over her shoulder, his own expression growing tender as he gazed at the baby. "He does look like Lily, doesn't he? Same eyes."
Dumbledore removed his half-moon spectacles and cleaned them slowly, the gesture buying him a precious moment to find the right words. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with sorrow. "I'm afraid I have terrible news. Lily and James Potter were murdered last night."
The words hung in the air like a physical blow. May gasped, her hand flying to her mouth while her other arm instinctively tightened protectively around Harry. Ben moved quickly to support his wife, his own face draining of color with shock.
"Murdered?" Ben's voice was hoarse with disbelief. "But who would— Lily was just a teacher, wasn't she? And James, he worked in sports management or something like that, right?"
"Actually," May said, her voice shaking, "now that I think about it, we never really knew what they did for work. Lily was always vague about it in her letters. Said it was complicated."
McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged a meaningful look that didn't escape May's sharp eyes.
"Okay, what was that?" May demanded, her grief temporarily overridden by suspicion. "What aren't you telling us?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Parker," Dumbledore began carefully, settling into his most diplomatic tone, "there are things about your cousin that you were never told. Things that Lily herself requested remain secret to protect you and your family."
"What kind of things?" May asked, her reporter's instincts from her brief journalism career beginning to surface in full force. "Professor, you said? Professor of what exactly? And where? Because I called that school in Scotland once—Hogwarts, right?—and they said they'd never heard of any Lily Evans."
Ben looked at his wife in surprise. "You called her school?"
"Of course I called her school! My baby cousin disappears to some fancy boarding school in Scotland, stops coming home for holidays, and you think I'm not going to check up on her?"
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose appreciatively. "You are quite thorough, Mrs. Parker."
"You bet I am. So what's the deal? What was this mysterious school that doesn't seem to exist?"
"Magic," Dumbledore said simply.
The room fell into stunned silence. Ben blinked several times, his mind clearly struggling to process what he'd just heard. May's mouth opened and closed soundlessly before she found her voice.
"I beg your pardon?" Ben finally managed, his voice faint.
"Did you just say magic?" May's voice rose an octave. "Like, magic magic? Rabbits out of hats, abracadabra magic?"
"Lily Evans Potter was a witch, Mrs. Parker," Dumbledore continued patiently. "A very talented one. She attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—the boarding school you knew about, though not its true nature. Magic is real, and your cousin was part of our world."
May stared at him for a long moment, then looked down at baby Harry, then back up at Dumbledore. "You're serious. You're actually, completely serious."
"I am indeed."
"Ben," May said slowly, "I think these people might be insane."
"Now, hold on a minute," Ben said, his natural inclination toward giving people the benefit of the doubt kicking in. "Let's just... let's hear them out."
"Hear them out? Ben, they're talking about magic! Like, actual magic!"
McGonagall stepped forward with the air of someone who'd had this conversation many times before. "Perhaps a small demonstration would be helpful?" She withdrew her wand with practiced efficiency.
"Is that a stick?" May asked incredulously.
"It's a wand, dear," McGonagall replied with barely concealed exasperation. With a gentle flick of her wrist, she caused the living room lamps to dim and brighten in sequence, then made a small potted plant on the side table burst into full bloom with fresh, vibrant flowers.
Ben sat down heavily on the couch, his legs suddenly unsteady. "This is... this is impossible."
"Well, that's new," May said faintly, staring at the plant. "That's definitely new."
"Blimey," Hagrid interjected, "you're taking this better than most Muggles do. Usually there's more screaming."
"Muggles?" Ben echoed weakly.
"Non-magic folk," Hagrid explained helpfully. "That's what we call people like you."
"Oh, we have a name now," May muttered. "Great. Just great."
"I understand your shock," Dumbledore said kindly, his voice taking on the patient tone of someone accustomed to explaining the impossible. "Lily struggled with the same revelation when she first learned of her abilities at age eleven. She wrote to me once about how difficult it was to keep this secret from the family she loved. But I assure you, magic is very real, and it was a fundamental part of who your cousin was."
May was staring at Harry again, her mind clearly racing. "So he's... he's like her? He has magic too?"
"Indeed. In fact, Harry is perhaps the most famous child in our world, though he knows nothing of it yet."
"Famous?" Ben echoed, looking alarmed. "Famous for what?"
Dumbledore's expression darkened considerably, the warmth leaving his eyes. "The man who killed Lily and James—a dark wizard named Voldemort—he tried to kill Harry as well. But something extraordinary happened. Something that has never occurred before in all the recorded history of magic."
"What kind of something?" May asked, her arms unconsciously tightening around Harry.
"The curse that should have killed this child instead rebounded upon its caster. Voldemort was destroyed, and Harry survived with only this mark." He gestured gently to the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead.
"That's not a birthmark," Ben said quietly, understanding dawning.
"No, Mr. Parker. It is the mark left by a killing curse that failed to kill."
"Our world is celebrating tonight," McGonagall added, her voice carrying a note of pride mixed with sorrow. "The most feared dark wizard in a generation has been defeated by a one-year-old child. But Harry... Harry needs a home. A family."
May's voice was very small when she spoke. "And you want us to take him?"
"Lily and James had no other living relatives," McGonagall explained. "James's parents died of dragon pox several years ago, and Lily's parents, as you know, passed when she was still at school."
"But more importantly," Dumbledore continued, "Lily's sacrifice for her son created powerful magical protections. Ancient magic, the kind that runs deeper than any spell or charm. Those protections can only be maintained if Harry lives with someone of Lily's blood."
"Blood?" Ben asked, looking confused.
"Family," Dumbledore clarified with infinite patience. "You, Mrs. Parker, as Lily's cousin, share that bond. As long as Harry calls your house home, as long as he can truly call it home, he will be protected from those who might wish him harm."
May looked at her husband, who was studying the sleeping baby with growing tenderness. "Ben?"
"He's just a baby, May," Ben said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "He's lost everything. His parents..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. Then he looked up at Dumbledore, his eyes reflecting both determination and concern. "This magical world—is it safe? Will Harry be safe with us?"
"Safer than anywhere else in either world," Dumbledore assured him. "The protection I speak of is perhaps the most powerful magic known to wizardkind. And should you agree to this, we will ensure that Harry wants for nothing. There are... financial provisions... that will see to his care and education."
"We don't need your money," May said quickly, then paused. "Well, okay, we might need some of your money. Do you know how much college costs these days?"
Despite everything, Ben chuckled. "That's my practical wife."
"Hey, someone has to think about these things."
May was quiet for a long moment, gazing down at Harry, who chose that perfect moment to open his bright green eyes—eyes so much like Lily's—and look up at her with innocent curiosity.
"Oh," May whispered, her heart visibly melting. "Oh, you're awake, aren't you, sweetheart?"
Harry gurgled softly and reached up with one tiny hand, which May caught with her finger. His grip was surprisingly strong.
"When Lily and I were little girls," May said quietly, her voice growing distant with memory, "she always said she wanted to change the world. Make it better somehow. She was this quiet, bookish kid, you know? Always reading, always asking questions. I used to tease her about it." Her voice caught slightly. "I never understood how a shy, bookish girl like her planned to change anything."
"She did change it, Mrs. Parker," Dumbledore said gently. "She saved it. And now she's given us the chance to raise the boy who will grow up in the better world she died to protect."
Ben reached over and gently touched Harry's other tiny hand. The baby's fingers immediately curled around Ben's finger with that instinctive infant grip, and Ben's face melted completely with emotion.
"Look at that," Ben said wonderingly. "He's got quite a grip."
"Course he does," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief the size of a dinner napkin. "He's got Potter strength and Evans determination. Going to be quite something when he grows up, this one is."
"We'll take him," Ben said suddenly, his voice thick but certain. "Of course we'll take him. He's family."
May nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Yes. Yes, absolutely. He's ours now."
"Just like that?" McGonagall asked, sounding almost surprised by their quick decision.
"Just like that," May confirmed. "What, did you expect us to debate about it? A baby needs a home. His parents are gone. We're family. It's not complicated."
"Well," Ben added with a slight smile, "it's a little complicated. But the important part isn't."
Hagrid, who had been sniffling throughout the entire conversation, let out a small sob. "Professor, I told you they were good people. Little Harry's going to be just fine here. Better than fine."
"Indeed," Dumbledore smiled, the first genuine smile to cross his face on this terrible night. "I can see that already."
"There is one more thing," McGonagall interjected in her practical way. "Harry will need to return to our world when he turns eleven—to attend Hogwarts as his parents did. It is his right and his heritage."
"Eleven years," May said thoughtfully. "That gives us time to figure out how to explain all this to him."
"Until then," Dumbledore continued, "it might be best if his... heritage... remains between us. Let him have as normal a childhood as possible."
"What about when strange things happen?" May asked with practical concern. "Because they will, won't they? I mean, if he's got magic..."
"Most likely," McGonagall admitted. "Magic often manifests in young wizards during times of strong emotion—fear, anger, excitement. Objects might move on their own, glass might break, his hair might change color."
"His hair might change color?" Ben asked, fascinated despite himself.
"Oh yes," Hagrid chimed in. "I've seen magical children turn their hair every color of the rainbow when they're upset. Quite impressive, actually."
May looked down at Harry's currently jet-black hair. "Well, at least we'll know it's not normal teenage rebellion."
"The important thing," McGonagall continued, "is that you try not to punish him for these incidents. He won't be able to control them, and harsh treatment only makes accidental magic worse."
"Punish him?" Ben looked appalled. "We'd never punish a child for something he can't control."
"You'd be surprised how many people do," McGonagall said dryly.
"Yeah, well, we're not those people," May said firmly. "Are we, Ben?"
Ben chuckled softly, still letting Harry hold his finger. "After tonight, honey, I think we can handle a little magic. I mean, how much weirder can it get?"
"Don't say that," May warned. "You'll jinx us."
"Actually," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "jinxes are quite real in our world."
"Great," May muttered. "Note to self: watch the language around magical baby."
As if responding to the sound of his new aunt's voice, Harry gurgled softly and smiled—his first smile in a world that had already changed so dramatically for him.
"Oh my God, Ben, look at that smile," May whispered, completely enchanted. "He's perfect."
"He really is," Ben agreed, his voice full of wonder.
"Right then," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes again. "I should be getting back. Got to return the bike to Sirius... well, I suppose I should explain about Sirius too, shouldn't I?"
"Please don't tell me there's more," May said weakly.
"Nothing too dramatic," Dumbledore assured her. "Just that Harry has a godfather—Sirius Black—who is currently... indisposed."
"Indisposed how?"
"He's in prison," McGonagall said bluntly. "For murdering thirteen people."
"What?!" both Ben and May exclaimed simultaneously.
"Including his best friend Peter Pettigrew," Hagrid added sadly.
May stared at them in horror. "And this person is Harry's godfather?"
"Was," Dumbledore corrected gently. "The betrayal of James and Lily's location to Voldemort drove Sirius quite mad, I'm afraid. He's no longer a consideration in Harry's care."
"Okay," May said slowly. "Okay. So no psychotic godfather to worry about. That's... good."
"Very good," Ben agreed emphatically.
"Right, well, I'll be off then," Hagrid said, clearly emotional about leaving Harry. He knelt down beside May's chair, bringing his enormous face level with the baby. "You be good for your new mum and dad, little Harry. They're going to take real good care of you."
Harry reached out and grabbed Hagrid's finger, which was nearly as big as his whole hand.
"Blimey," Hagrid whispered. "Going to miss you, little one."
"You can visit," May said impulsively. "I mean, if you want to. If that's allowed."
Hagrid's face lit up. "Could I? Really?"
"Of course," Ben said warmly. "You're obviously important to him."
"Just... maybe call first?" May added. "You know, so we can prepare the neighbors for... well, you."
"I'll use the telephone," Hagrid promised solemnly, as if this were a great concession.
"Do you know how to use a telephone?" Ben asked curiously.
"Well... no. But I'll learn!"
McGonagall stood, smoothing her robes with brisk efficiency. "We should go as well. It's been a very long night for everyone."
"Wait," May said suddenly. "How do we contact you? I mean, if something happens, or we have questions, or..."
"A very good point," Dumbledore acknowledged. He reached into his robes and withdrew what appeared to be an ordinary fountain pen. "This is a special quill. If you write with it on any piece of paper, your message will find its way to me."
"A magical pen," Ben said wonderingly. "We have a magical pen now."
"We have a magical baby," May pointed out. "A pen is the least of our worries."
"Indeed," Dumbledore chuckled. "You are quite right, Mrs. Parker."
He paused at the door, turning back with a serious expression. "One final thing. Harry's story will be told and retold throughout the magical world. Books will be written, songs sung, legends born. But the Harry those stories will be about is not the child you'll be raising. Remember that. Raise him to be himself, not the legend others will make of him."
"We will," Ben promised solemnly. "We'll raise him to be a good man. That's what Lily would have wanted."
"That is exactly what Lily would have wanted," Dumbledore agreed.
As the three magical visitors made their way to the door, Harry began to fuss slightly in May's arms.
"Oh, what's wrong, sweetie?" May cooed, automatically beginning to rock him gently. "Are you hungry? Ben, we need to get baby supplies. Formula, diapers, clothes... Oh God, we need everything."
"We'll figure it out," Ben said confidently, wrapping his arm around his wife and new nephew. "We always do."
"Welcome home, Harry," May whispered, kissing his forehead gently just below the lightning bolt scar. "Welcome to the family."
Outside, the first hints of dawn were beginning to touch the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold. It marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another in the life of the Boy Who Lived—who would now grow up not just as a wizard, but as a Parker, surrounded by love, guided by wisdom, and taught that with great power must come great responsibility.
As the door closed behind their unusual visitors, Ben and May Parker settled onto their couch with their new son, beginning the most important adventure of their lives.
"So," May said after a long moment, "our nephew is a famous wizard."
"Apparently so."
"And he defeated the most evil wizard in the world."
"When he was one year old."
"By accident."
"Seems like it."
May was quiet for another moment, then looked up at Ben with a slight smile. "You realize this means we're probably going to have a very interesting next few years."
Ben looked down at Harry, who had fallen back asleep in May's arms, looking for all the world like any other innocent baby.
"You know what, May? I think that's exactly what we need."
---
An hour later, May stood in the doorway of the room at the end of the hall, her hand trembling slightly on the light switch. The room was exactly as they'd left it three years ago—pale yellow walls that Ben had painted with such care, a white crib with soft bedding still in its protective plastic, a rocking chair by the window where May had planned to nurse, and a mobile of dancing bears hanging motionless above where a baby should have been sleeping.
"Are you sure about this room?" Ben asked softly from behind her, Harry sleeping peacefully in his arms. "We could set up something temporary in our bedroom, or—"
"No," May said, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is... this is what it was meant for." She stepped into the room, her fingers trailing along the crib rail. "It's been waiting."
Ben watched his wife carefully as she moved around the space, removing the plastic covering from the mattress with practiced efficiency. Five years of marriage had taught him to recognize the signs—the way she held her shoulders just a little too straight, the careful control in her movements when she was fighting strong emotions.
"The sheets are still in the dresser," May said, her voice artificially bright. "I washed everything when we first set it up, so they should still be clean."
"May—"
"And look, the mobile still works." She wound the small key, and the bears began their gentle dance as a soft lullaby filled the room. "I bought this at that little shop in the Village, remember? The day after we found out I was..." She trailed off, her hand stilling on the mobile.
Ben set Harry gently in the center of the bed and moved to his wife's side. "Honey, we don't have to do this tonight. We could—"
"Yes, we do." May's voice was firm now, decisive. "He needs a proper place to sleep, and this is his room now. It's Harry's room." She said the name like she was testing how it felt. "I just need to get the sheets."
She moved to the dresser with purposeful steps, pulling out soft yellow sheets covered in tiny ducks. Ben watched as she made up the crib with the same meticulous care she brought to everything important in her life, tucking corners with precise hospital corners their neighbor Mrs. Chen had taught her.
"There," she said, stepping back. "Perfect."
Ben carefully lifted Harry from their bed and placed him in the crib. The baby stirred slightly but didn't wake, instinctively curling into the soft mattress. In the dim light from the hallway, the lightning bolt scar was barely visible against his forehead.
"He looks so small," May whispered, her hands gripping the crib rail.
"He is small. He's just a baby."
They stood in silence for several minutes, watching Harry sleep. The mobile had wound down, but neither of them moved to restart it.
"Ben," May said finally, her voice catching, "I need to tell you something, and I need you to let me say it all before you try to make me feel better about it."
Ben's hands covered hers on the rail. "Okay."
"I'm devastated about Lily. I am. She was like the little sister I never had, and knowing she's gone, that she died like that..." May's voice broke slightly. "It's breaking my heart."
"I know, honey."
"But Ben, I'm also..." She took a shuddering breath. "I'm happy. I'm happy that Harry is here, that he's ours now, and that makes me feel like the most terrible woman in the world."
Ben started to speak, but May held up her hand.
"Let me finish. Please." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "When Dr. Martinez told us I couldn't... that we'd never be able to have children, I thought my life was over. I thought I'd never get to be a mom, never get to use this room, never get to..." She gestured helplessly at the carefully prepared nursery.
"And now, suddenly, I have this beautiful baby boy who needs me, and I'm happy about it. But the only reason he needs me is because his parents are dead. Because my cousin, who I loved, is dead." Her voice rose with distress. "What kind of person is happy that a baby is orphaned?"
"May—"
"I keep thinking that if I'm a good person, I should only feel sad right now. I should only be mourning Lily and James. But instead, when I look at Harry, all I can think is 'finally, finally I get to be a mother,' and that makes me feel like a monster."
Ben was quiet for a long moment, studying his wife's face in the soft light. When he spoke, his voice was gentle but firm.
"Do you remember what you said to those professors earlier? About how it wasn't complicated?"
May nodded, sniffling.
"You were right. The important part isn't complicated." He turned to face her fully. "May, loving that little boy doesn't make you a bad person. Being grateful that you get to be his mom doesn't diminish how much you loved Lily."
"But—"
"No buts. Think about it this way—Lily loved you, right? You said she was like your little sister."
"She was."
"So if she had to choose someone to raise her son, someone to love him and take care of him, don't you think she'd want it to be someone who was happy about it? Someone who saw it as a blessing instead of a burden?"
May looked down at Harry, who had rolled onto his side and was making soft baby sounds in his sleep.
"Your cousin died protecting her child," Ben continued. "And now that child is going to grow up with parents who wanted him so desperately that they built him a room and waited three years for him to fill it. That's not terrible, May. That's beautiful."
"You think she'd be okay with it? With me being happy?"
"I think she'd be relieved." Ben's voice was warm with certainty. "I think she'd be grateful that the person raising her son isn't just doing it out of duty, but out of love. Out of joy."
May was crying now, but the tears seemed different somehow—lighter.
"I've been so angry for so long," she whispered. "Angry at my body, at God, at the universe for taking away my chance to be a mom. And now, suddenly, I'm a mom anyway. Just not the way I planned."
"The best things in life rarely go according to plan."
May reached into the crib and gently stroked Harry's dark hair. "Hi, baby," she whispered. "I'm your Aunt May. Well, I guess I'm just May now. Your mom." The word felt strange and wonderful on her lips. "I'm going to take such good care of you. I promise."
Harry stirred at her voice, and for a moment his green eyes opened and looked directly at her.
"Ben, look. He's looking at me."
"He knows you're his mom already."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
May carefully picked up Harry, cradling him against her chest. He settled immediately, making contented baby noises.
"I'm still sad about Lily," she said quietly. "I'm going to be sad about that for a very long time."
"That's okay. You should be. That's what love looks like when someone is gone."
"But I'm also happy. Scared and overwhelmed and completely unprepared, but happy."
"That's what love looks like when someone arrives."
May looked up at her husband with wonder. "When did you get so wise?"
"I married a woman who asks the hard questions. It's been educational."
She laughed through her tears, the sound soft in the quiet nursery. "We're really doing this, aren't we? We're really going to be parents."
"We're already parents. From the moment we said yes."
"From the moment I saw him in that giant man's arms," May corrected. "I knew. I knew he was ours."
"Lily knew too," Ben said quietly. "Somehow, I think she knew this was where he belonged."
May looked around the room—at the bears dancing slowly in the breeze from the heating vent, at the books already lined up on the shelves, at the rocking chair positioned perfectly by the window for reading bedtime stories.
"This room has been waiting for him," she said with sudden certainty. "All this time, it's been waiting for Harry."
"And now he's here."
"Now he's here." She kissed the top of Harry's head gently. "Welcome home, baby. Welcome to your room."
Ben put his arms around both of them, and they stood there in the soft light, a new family born from loss but held together by love. Outside, the first full morning of their new life was beginning, and for the first time in three years, the nursery at the end of the hall was exactly what it was meant to be.
A place where their child could sleep, safe and loved and home.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!