Lily watched her husband and son fondly from the doorframe, her emerald eyes sparkling as she looked on the beautiful scene. James was lying with his back to her, his arms cradling a small Harry as they both slept on. She had thought about grabbing the camera to catch a quick photo, but decided that they would do that so many times and she had plenty of time to take one. So she stood there, watching.

It took half an hour for her husband to stir, and yet she still hadn't moved. Lily had begun to think about the war out there in the world and how beautiful the earth had seemed the last time she had her friends had gone out together, wondering if Harry would ever live a peaceful, harmonious life if – when – You-Know-Who stopped hunting them.

"Hey, sweetheart," said a familiar voice from her left, and she was snapped back to the world by a pair of familiar hazel eyes fixing on hers. "You look deep in thought. What's on your mind?"

She sighed and leaned into his embrace, her eyes falling on her sleeping child as he curled in her husband's arms. "I was thinking about the war, and the world out there," said Lily after a moment of silence, looking soulfully up into James' eyes and relaxing slightly. "It was pretty bad when Padfoot last checked in, but that was two weeks ago… I'm scared for our baby, James."

James leaned down and placed a small kiss on top of her fiery red hair, setting his chin on top of her head. "Harry will be just like his mother when he grows up, I know it." He grinned down at her and she smiled slightly up at him. "He'll be sticking up for people left and right, like you did for Snape," his eyes darkened a little bit and he looked about ready to kill, but he shook himself and continued, "And he'll be just as handsome, dashing, and brave as I am. I know, when he gets out into the world and makes his way, he will be just as strong as we are."

"Thanks, Jamie," she murmured, turning and taking her child from his arms. "I know he'll end up just as handsome as you, and maybe just as clever as I am," a smile tugged at Lily's lips, "but I was more worried about Voldemort and his plans for the future our child might have to live in."

He fixed her with an intense stare, which she returned. "If he is anything like you, he will fight for what he believes in, even if the world is as dark as the way Voldemort wants it to be. And it won't, because there are good people, like us, who will always be there to stop him. Harry will be one of those people, sweetheart. Just like us."

Lily beamed up at him, reaching up and pecking his cheek. A loud buzzing sound startled her, and she almost dropped Harry as she whirled around to face the window, but then James shook his head and laughed. "Dinner's ready," he said easily, making her turn and glare at him before sighing and handing him their son. "You know you love me, love."

"Sadly, I do," she hurled over her shoulder as she turned into the kitchen, making him chuckle and pick up his wand to entertain Harry with small clouds of smoke. "I'll be a few minutes, because Harry's isn't quite done yet…"

James' head snapped up as he heard the sound of the gate creaking open and he raced over to the window, dropping his wand on the sofa in surprise before yelling, "Lily! It's him! Go, run, take Harry – I'll hold him off!"

His wife dropped the pork chops she had been making in the kitchen when her eyes met a pair of cold red ones through the window, letting out a small scream before dashing out into the hallway. Her husband almost threw Harry at her as the door burst open, and she turned on her heel and kissed him hard.

Lily shot him one last look as she reached the staircase, tears running down her cheeks. So they had either tortured the information out of Peter, or he had been the spy all along. Memory after memory dashed by her mind as she raced up the staircase, not hearing the shouted curses as she crashed into the nursery, sobbing.

There was little, chubby Peter Pettigrew, looking up at them with admiration as Lily, James, and the Marauders took a long stroll by the lake. The fat boy cheering them on with glee as her young husband bullied her old best friend. The boy who had looked so delicate and frail shaking with terror as he watched Lily scream at James. The boy who had supposedly stood by his 'brothers' and held his ground when Voldemort's Death Eaters attempted to recruit him.

But now here they were, she thought dryly as the floorboards illuminated with green, and Peter had betrayed them all. Then something else occurred to her that had not before, and she turned towards the crib and put Harry inside, moving so she was facing him.

"You are loved so much, darling," she whispered, tears running down her cheeks as she heard the stairs creaking with a new weight. Lily wasn't stupid; she knew her husband was dead and that she would be next. But the thought of her baby Harry dying seemed unreal to her, almost as though it wouldn't happen, but she knew if they were gone there would be no one to stand in his way.

She sobbed openly as the landing outside creaked again and moved forward, her hands grasping her son's pudgy fingers. "Harry, Daddy loves you with all his heart and Mummy loves you so much. We love you so, so, so much. To the moon and back. Forever and always. Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony love you. We all love you. You are never without our love."

And as the door crashed open, she remembered the times when Peter had first appeared at their new house's front door, smiling shyly at them. He had seemed uncomfortable and awkward as a bawling Harry was placed in his arms, and for some reason the child had hated him more than the norm was for a newborn to.

He had known.

Lily stood up and faced Voldemort, her hands shaking. Her wand had been left in the kitchen, and that was where it still was. If there was any chance of them coming out of this alive, it had disappeared with her inability to practice wandless magic.

Her cat, Snitch, slinked past her ankle and she felt some hope rising in her. Maybe he could claw his eyes out or attack his legs or swipe his wand?

But, deep down, she knew there was no hope for them.

"Stand aside, girl, stand aside and your life will be spared," snarled Voldemort, indicating the staircase with his wand and smiling cruelly at her. But she shook her head, spreading her arms wide and blocking Harry from view, as though that would save his life. "This is your last chance, girl, stand aside!"

Lily shook her head again, sobbing as she choked out, "No, not Harry! Have mercy, not Harry! No, no, have mercy! I'll do anything! Not Harry!"

"Stand aside, silly girl, stand aside!" growled Voldemort, obviously losing his temper with her as he shot a single jet of purple light at her. After a flash, she was sobbing harder and harder as she writhed in pain, a single, drawn-out scream ringing through the eerily silent house. "This is your last chance to stand aside and your life will be spared!"

"No," she whimpered, stumbling to her feet and spreading her arms wide. "Not Harry," were her final words before she took the emerald light to her chest, dropping like a rag-doll onto the ground.

And as Voldemort took a step over her body, a small, yet bright, light seemed to crawl beneath her skin toward the hand that still clutched her son's. The light left the tips of her cold, lifeless fingers and embraced the small boy.

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Voldemort, eager for his victory over the Potter's, but the last thing he saw was the light bouncing from the boy's chest and onto his.

This is my version of that fateful night at Godric's Hollow, and exactly what happened in that nursery after James had been killed. Poor baby Harry, left alone to face the world as an orphan whose parents had given their lives for him. It's so sad that they had to die; why couldn't JK Rowling have had them living in hiding until the right time, under Dumbledore's orders?

Wow, that got a long-winded rant out of the way. I may or may not have been planning that.

But don't you agree that this is the saddest story I've ever written?

Love,

Marlene