Life's great. Well as good as it's going to get at the moment anyway. So maybe it's rubbish. So what if it's a little bit scary? Does it matter when you're having the time of your life- doing what you want, playing with your son, your young son with the eyes of his stunning mother? The stunning mother, who I am proud to say, is my gorgeous wife. If I haven't already said it- she's stunning. Then there's my son with the stunning eyes of his stunning Mother who is currently popping the bubbles that flow out of my wand, and bob around the room a bit. He looks so disappointed each time one bursts, it's so sweet and, dare I say it, cute. Oh, how I hate that word- cute. Very girly, much too feminine.
The stairs creek and then her footsteps scuff along the carpet in too big slippers (probably mine ) and then she's there, just standing in the doorway. She glows, she radiates beauty . That hair, that silky river of flowing hair that cascades like a waterfall around her shoulders and down her back. Her face, as pale as the moon, glows just like the sun. Then there are those eyes. Whenever I look into those sparkling green eyes, even just for a few seconds, I can't help but imagine cool, green forests and soft moss- it immediately relaxes me, and I can never stop myself from staring at those deep woods of hers. From the laugh that's emitted from her delicate mouth and the slightly annoyed noise from my son shows that I must have been staring for longer than what I had originally thought. I continue with the bubble blowing, although after looking at those glinting emeralds my mind was perhaps not as focused on the task as it was before. Her eyes seem to blossom like a flower- a dark alluring green near the pupil that turned into the brightest jade I have ever seen.
Even now I can't believe she chose me, but I like to believe I earned it- all those years of not touching another girl- to show her that I loved her that much. It's nearly perfect, out life, it really is. Apart from the war everything is amazing, wonderful, incredible, marvellous, absolutely perfect. Unfortunately the war counts for quite a big part of our lives at the moment. But Dumbledore's onto something, we will defeat Voldemort. I know it, and we'll all grow old and live happily ever after for years and my son will be the best on the Quidditch team and…
"Lily, what's wrong"
The look of horror is clear on her porcelain face as I see her staring past me, through the window that's separating out dream land from the nightmare outside. Of course, when people see Lily for the first time, the first thing they notice is either her hair, which is noticed for its vibrant colour, and her eyes. Those huge eyes, a painting of all the shades and hues of green, enclose in a thick frame of eyelashes- although naturally orange in colour the make-up she always wears turns them into something even more beautiful than thought possible. And those beautiful eyes are now open wide and frightful, that mouth that's usually so small and delicate is left unclosed, hanging open in the air. Overall, the affect is not one that demonstrates her usual elfin beauty, but of tragedy and horror.
There's a creak as the door opens, Lily's screaming, my stunning Lily, my flower, my star, my world is terrified. I hand Harry to her. I know who opened the door, but it's not over yet- there is a possibility that I may win this. And if not, best give Lily time to find somewhere safe. My voice seems harsher than intended, but she is what matters. I don't care about anything else apart from her and Harry.
"Lily run, go upstairs, run and protect Harry!"
Before she goes she takes on last look at me. Worry clearly evident, I can hear her telling me she loves me in a voice barely above a whisper. Not her last look, it can't be the last time I'm going to see her; I'd die if it was. Every minute I don't see her I imagine her face, and every time I'm with her I'm looking at that face. Whenever I go into battle I see parts of her- the bright green jets of light are her eyes, the pale moon her face, her red hair blood that's spreading slowly across the ground.
She's running with Harry half asleep in her arms, holding him close. I'm alone, and I have no idea on what to do next. Striding into the hallway I can't help but smile at a photograph on the wall. It's Lily, Sirius and I on our wedding day. That was one of the best days of our lives, we've got more fun days ahead of us though- I can feel it- I'm not going to die now, I'll win the duel and kill Voldemort in the process. She looks like a star in that photo, an angel in that silky white material, she laughs at something Sirius says, holding onto me for support and repeating the action again and again as the photo plays. We forgot everything, just for that beautiful, short time.
He's here, my smile stops as I see him standing there, a black cloak round his shoulders looking like death himself. I don't think I've ever actually been this close to him before, it's quite a scary thought, but I think this proves that he is a human body, and human bodies can be destroyed.
I can't help but curse -I've forgotten my wand, but I can still fight, I can still win, I always do- just. My fists are as good as anything, I can punch him, kick him- Merlin knows I want to, he's killed people, he deserves to suffer a death, a death that's slow and painful, that'll have him screaming for mercy, just like he made all his other victims cry. Everything will be alright, it always is. I lunge forward as he raises his wand. I can't hear anything-there's a buzzing in my ears, but I can see… I see those stunning emerald eyes just as I close my own.
Oh, I do love those eyes.
A.N: Thanks for reading! I loved writing this, and please review- I really need help on knowing what I need to improve on, and I'm interested to see what you thought of James' POV. :D
Disclaimer: J.K owns all characters and anything else you recognize.