Disclaimer: I own nothing but the horde of quickly multiplying plot bunnies.


Lily was alone with Harry that night.

James had insisted on going out with his mates. He was so sick, her husband had shouted at her earlier that evening, of being cooped up with an increasingly irate pregnant witch and a colicky toddler. But that was not what she thought about as she threw herself in front of Voldemort's wand, and he cast the killing curse at her.

Her act of sacrificial magic was not her own though. In the moment she had thought only of dying in her son's place, so that he may live. She did not think of the magical child still developing in her steadily growing belly.

When the curse hit her the pain was unimaginable. She thought that this must be what it felt like to die, but as she lay prone and unable to respond on the floor she could see movement in the world around her and knew something was not as it should be. She had just been hit by an Avada Kedavra from Voldemort himself. She shouldn't be able to feel pain or observe the Dark Lord stepping over her body towards the form of her now truly defenseless son.

For the second time in as many minutes the tip of Voldemort's wand glowed that horrendous shade of green. The words he spoke she could not hear. All she could do was watch in the reflection of her son eyes as the deadly bolt of magic collided with him.

As she acted as onlooker to a scene no mother should ever be forced to witness, she once again felt unimaginable pain course through her, centered deep within her lower abdomen. The pain was so great that, despite her overwhelming need to see her son with light still in his eyes for these last few moments, she was simply unable to keep from clenching her own in soul shattering pain.

The world that had gone dark when her eyes closed burst into endless white and she was unconscious.

She awoke to the screams of men and the frightened whimpers of children.

There was something in her eyes; perspiration, tears, she did not know. She felt drops of cold hitting her body and realized that where before there had been lights and walls and a roof, now there was just the orange glow of muggle street lamps on the low hanging, precipitous clouds overhead.

Her body felt cold and used; tired from a strain she could not remember enduring.

She heard shouts coming closer and tried once again to see the world around her. It was so dark, she wished she had her wand to cast a lumos spell. But there was light, dim as it was, approaching, accompanied by a silhouette whose mess of hair could only belong to her husband.

She could hear others, see other dim specks of light behind him as he pulled himself up and over the rubble that had once been the southern wall of their son's second level bedroom. Harry would be closer to him, easier to see since he was still in his crib.

Harry, oh gods Harry!

Her eyes searched desperately for the body of her son. Yes, it was still in the crib. Facing her. Eyes open. Face covered in blood from some head wound sustained in whatever aftermath she had missed.

Why, why did the world around her look like this?

But no, she was looking at Harry, at his eyes, green and shimmering with tears, mixing with the blood still running down his precious face.

Tears!

Her baby was crying, albeit as silently as a child could. Never had she been so glad to see pain and tears in her baby boy's face. He was alive!

But… but he had been hit by the killing curse. And so had she!

Where was Voldemort? There was so much destruction, something had happened, but she could not imagine him leaving without his objective of murdering her son fulfilled.

She was right. James saw Harry before her. He might not even realize she was in the room.

As more of her senses came back to her, she could feel the pain. Pain in her legs, pain in her abdomen, in her head, and her back, and her heart. There was pain emanating from everywhere, so she chose to refuse any acknowledge of it, focusing instead on the reunion of her husband with his son.

James face, contorted with pain and terror at what he might see, lit up at the sight of his whimpering, blood covered, but very much alive, son. He ran over, tripping and stumbling over the odd chucks of debris in his way, until he had his child clutched tightly to him. Arms wrapped around the boy so that he would know he was within his father's protection once more.

Shuffling and grunts behind James gave way to Peter, being pushed by the arse, up and over the rubble by Remus, who was scrambling up behind him. There was some relief when they saw Harry alive in James' arms, but it was short lived as Peter (who had always had a quite a thing for Lily) asked where she might be.

She could see them, and was trying to make noise or move enough to catch their attention, but she was so tired, so weak. Remus, she knew, could probably smell her. She had never been more thankful for his condition than she was when his eyes lit up at her scent.

"She's in here I think, somewhere. There is blood, lots of it, but it's fresh. We have to search quickly." he said, eyes golden as he let the wolf out in a rare moment of usefulness.

They were coming closer now, they would find her. She felt herself relax for the first time as she saw James hand Harry off to Peter and make his way towards where she lay, partially buried underneath layers of beams, plaster, and thatching.

As she relaxed though, she was reminded of how wrong everything felt right now. She was so exhausted, so sore, so ...empty feeling. She felt melancholy overtake her. She had somehow survived a killing curse. So had Harry. But how? He seemed to be in the same state that she was, so perhaps they were just feeling the never before felt side effects of being hit with an Avada Kedavra and not dying by it.

Her boys found her. Dragged her out from beneath the wreckage that had once been a child's bedroom. She was covered in blood, her head, her whole lower half and all up her back as though she had been laying in a pool of it for some time.

So much blood.

The group rushed off to St. Mungo's as quickly as they could, both Harry and Lily having lost such large amounts of blood that they were closer to death than anyone had yet realized. They would both spend weeks recovering in a private care ward from the unknown after effects of ineffective killing curses.


A/N: This is my first go at fanfiction. This chapter was written several months ago, and is being posted on a whim, as a reward for finishing some irl work related stuff. So before anyone reviews (lol, like that will happen) and complains about quality, I will admit that this has been edited only to the extent that it is somewhat formatted, and nothing more. This chapter, and the next few, are meant to give you brief glimpses and some essential information for the world we will start to see once the story really begins. Once the story really gets going, and I am more certain of how things will pay out, I will come back and edit these first few chapters accordingly.

This is a HP/Tokyo Ghoul Xover. Harry is the BWL, but that is not the whole picture. I love fem-Harry stories and originally set out creating this as one, but that quickly changed when I started writing. So our main character will be fem-Harry(ish), but considering original Harry is still very much alive and in character, she is not taking his place in that regard.

I hope you enjoy this and future chapters, and obviously I would be thrilled to get some reviews. No flames yet, please. Give me a few chapters head start at least.