Written for jily AU week, day two (survival).
"Harry. Harry. Wake up," Lily Evans is shaking her son. He is two years old, and already he is smarter and more beautiful than she could ever have imagined.
"Mummy?" he stutters, and Lily heaves a sigh, sweeping a few stray black hairs off his forehead.
"Yeah, Harry. It's Mummy. Today we're going out." She rests a hand on the side of his cot as he stands up shakily, green eyes looking tired on the both of them.
Lily lifts him up and goes about their morning routine – she brushes his teeth, feeds him some banana or porridge of sorts, then sits him on her knee as she reads the paper, skimming over it until she comes to the article she was looking for.
"Today, we commemorate the first year anniversary since the end of the First Wizarding War. We celebrate the lives of the fallen in a procession at the Ministry of Magic, where the Minister will be making a speech to honour those who gave their lives and the bravery in which they did so..."
Lily stops reading, already feeling sick. There is a lump in her throat that won't go away. She hugs Harry as she drops the paper, and breathes into his hair, "We'll be okay, Harry. I promise."
At twelve o'clock, Sirius arrives with Remus. He is hungover whilst Remus has dark shadows under his eyes that never seem to leave these days. Lily hands Harry to Sirius and puts on her coat. The four of them set out of Lily's flat together. Lily takes Harry's hand and squeezes her eyes shut as they all Disapparate. When Lily opens her eyes, they have arrived in a thick layer of leaves on the grassy floor of the cemetery.
Harry clings to his mother and she picks him up, murmuring words of comfort to him as she follows Sirius and Remus through the graveyard. She is glad of the distraction that her son brings, even if he is such a painful reminder sometimes.
They come to a stop at the grave of her husband, and the pain hits her all at once.
Sirius' tears are already falling, Remus is already shaking. Harry is hiding his face in his mother's hair, just like James, she thinks, and she remembers James more and harder than she has in ages: him kissing her neck and her lips and smiling and laughing and helping with Harry and loving them all and oh God, why just why does he have to be gone?
And Harry is wiping the tears off his mother's face now and Lily feels weak, so fucking weak because why should her son, anyone's son for that matter, ever have to see their mother like this? Why should Harry not have a father?
It's not fair, she thinks selfishly, Why couldn't I have gone with him?
Remus removes Harry from Lily as she sinks to the ground next to Sirius, and she sweeps the leaves of the gravestone with her fingers, looking at the words that make it all seem too real, far too real.
The words engraved into the stone are still fresh from last year, and Lily can read them clearly, each syllable causing another stab to her heart. "Here lies James Charlus Potter," reads the cold, hard stone, "Loving husband, father and friend."
Lily lets out an animalistic howl – it's as if she's reliving the pain.
Because James Potter died a year ago in the war, and Lily Evans lies next to his grave, wondering just how she is ever going to get through this without him.
It's been one year, and she can't see it getting any easier, because Lily sees James everywhere, in her home, in her head, in Remus and Sirius, but mostly in Harry, her little bundle of joy who has unknowingly caused Lily to remember her husband in all ways, from his hair to his smile, right to his middle name.
It kills Lily Evans just a little bit more every time she sees her son. She doesn't mind - she's closer to James that way.
