"Lily, take Harry and go -"
Lily holds her son to her, wishing with everything she has that she had her wand, that she hadn't let James face Voldemort alone, that they had never trusted Peter Pettigrew. But wishing isn't going to do any good, and she needs to figure a way out of this.
She looks around the room for anything to barricade them, but finds nothing of use. Anything in here could be blasted in seconds, and one glance at the window tells her it's too far to jump. She piles things haphazardly against the door nonetheless.
Harry seems confused by her sense of urgency, and giggles, perhaps thinking they're playing a game. Lily kisses his forehead, putting him in his cot. Fear surging through her, she braces herself in front of it, a physical barrier from any harm coming to her baby. She hears a thump from the hall and sees a green light flood the corridor, and her heart drops out of her chest.
The nursery door is opened and she sees a pair of red eyes and a wand aiming straight at her.
The house explodes, and she wakes up.
Like every morning, she goes to check on Harry before doing anything else. Her boy is sleeping peacefully, tucked up in his blankets without a care in the world. Harry Potter is two years old and Voldemort is dead.
She runs her hand through Harry's hair before she tucks his blankets more firmly against him and leaves him to rest.
When she goes to the kitchen to make herself tea, she finds her kitchen already occupied. "Morning," is the greeting she receives, the dark head of hair all that is visible over the newspaper.
Lily pulls the paper out his hands, and steals one of the biscuits in front of him. "Do you break into everyone's house like this?"
"It's not breaking in if you have a key," Sirius points out.
Lily folds her arms across her chest. "For emergencies," she replies.
"It was an emergency. I wanted biscuits." At her withering look, he reluctantly adds, "And I thought you could use some company."
Lily turns to the kettle to begin making her tea. "I'm fine, Sirius."
It is his turn to give her a look. Although she's not facing him, she can feel his eyes on her as she fiddles about with stove, trying desperately not to let her hands shake.
"Potter," he admonishes her quietly, and she drops the kettle.
"Don't," she says, her eyes burning. Sirius lays a hand on her shoulder while she squeezes her eyes shut. It proves of little help and soon enough her face is wet.
Lily turns to face Sirius, and although he must've been expecting this, he still looks discomfited by her tears. "I know," she says slowly, taking a deep breath, "What day it is. There are reminders everywhere I look." She places a hand over her chest, where a lightning-shaped scar lays beneath her dressing gown. "I'm dealing with it."
"You're ignoring it," he says frankly.
"You're one to talk," she accuses, narrowing her eyes at him. "When was the last time you stopped by his grave? You're here all the time, but you never go past the church."
Sirius's eyes harden, but he isn't deterred. "It's not the same thing."
"Bullshit."
"I've had years of practice at suppressing emotions, and I know what it looks like, Lily." He reaches for the kettle, setting it right on the stove. "You were never very good at it. Neither was James."
Her eyes sting anew. "Stupid git had to be bad at something," Lily mutters with a smile that comes out like grimace.
"He was pretty shite at poetry," Sirius offers. "Those letters he used to send you were a mess. He had no grasp of syntax."
Lily wipes at her eyes, looking up at him. "He let you read those?"
"Who d'you think proofread them?"
At this, Lily finally laughs. It's barely there, but it comes out for the first time in a while. Perhaps because of this, or because she is so very aware of what day it is, she admits, "I still expect him, sometimes. When I'm not thinking or when I have a nightmare. I still turn."
Sirius swallows and begins to say something, but it is cut short by something smacking into his knees. Someone, Lily corrects, as she sees her son wrapped around his godfather's legs. "Padfoot," says Harry, grinning up at him.
"Harry," Sirius greets, disentangling Harry and lifting him up so he is eye-level. "How's my best mate?"
Lily notes fondly that Harry looks exponentially pleased to have this title. However, he gives Sirius a look which is so rebuking that she has to smile. "Sleepy. You're loud."
"Sorry," comes the reply, sounding not at all contrite. Sirius sets Harry back down on the ground, so he promptly decides that it is Lily's turn to have her legs immobilized. "He's bigger," Sirius tells Lily.
"Looks more like his father every day," she says, as if anyone wouldn't notice. Apart from their shared green eyes, everything in Harry's face comes from James.
"Poor kid," says Sirius affectionately, ruffling the boy's hair. "He's doomed."
Lily looks down at Harry, who smiles widely up at her. "He'll be fine."
"Will you?"
"I don't know," she says honestly.
"What kind of an answer is that?" says James, laughing at her. "Whether you're my girlfriend is a 'yes or no' answer."
"You haven't asked!" she protests, tapping him on the nose. "We've been dating for ages, and you never once brought up the idea of us being boyfriend and girlfriend."
His hands slide around her waist, and he leans his forehead against her, arching one eyebrow. "Afraid of commitment, Evans?"
"Who asked out whom?" Lily challenges, her hands at his neck. "I do have other offers, you know. The squid's just waiting for a second chance," she adds teasingly.
"Well, then I suppose I have to ask." James declares, tilting her chin up so that their lips align. "Not because of you. I just can't let the squid win. It's an old grudge, but a lasting one."
"I prefer my men without tentacles, anyway," she says, kissing him.
In a breath, he mutters against her lips, "Be my girlfriend?" and she grabs at his tie, pulling him against her once more.
"Mum, I'm alright," insists Harry, ducking out of her reach.
He seems embarrassed by all the attention he is receiving from his mother, but Lily hopes that it keeps from noticing all the eyes on her. She has worn a robe that covers her as best it can, but the edge of the scar still peeks out over the top, and her features are far too recognizable. She avoids the double-takes, not wanting to distract from her last moments with Harry before sending him off to Hogwarts for the first time.
They approach the platform, waiting for two twin boys to pass through, and a plump woman beside them asks, "First time at Hogwarts?"
Lily braces herself for some comment about who she is, but when she meets the woman's eyes, there is nothing but kindness in them. Two children stand behind her with the same flaming red hair. "Ron's new, too," the woman adds.
Her eyes fall to the small redheaded boy, who looks every bit as fidgety as Harry. Lily smiles. As her son braces himself to run through the platform, she says, "Harry will be in his first year." To Harry, Lily adds, "Go on."
In a moment, they are all through the platform. It is more crowded than Lily remembers, and they have to walk almost to the end of the train until they can find an empty compartment.
She draws her wand to lighten Harry's load, but finds she doesn't need to as the same boys who had passed through the platform before are helping with his trunk. As this happens, someone beside her steps on the edge of her robes, causing them to pull to the side and reveal her scar. The twins stare and begin to ask a question, before they are called away to their mother, the same redhead woman from the platform.
Lily turns to Harry, but before she can say anything, she is cut off by a loud voice. "He hasn't left yet, has he?"
She looks behind her and sees Sirius and Remus weaving their way through the throngs of people. "Hello, Harry," says the latter, when they stop on either side of Lily.
"Hi, Moony," greets Harry with a grin. "Padfoot," he adds with a nod at his godfather.
"We couldn't let you leave without reminding you to make your mum proud," says Sirius. He lowers his voice, but Lily still catches what follows. "And reminding you of the map we told you about, too."
"Filch's office," says Harry in far too loud a whisper for Lily not to hear.
Remus laughs. "Well, I hope he's got Lily's good sense, because he's certainly got James's subtlety."
And just like that, each one of them feels what they've been feeling all day. The missing grin, the goodbye Harry will never receive. Lily's chest feels empty, but she refuses to cry today.
Remus lays a hand on her shoulder. She closes her eyes and pretends for a moment that the touch is not his, and it gives her strength. She takes her son's hands. "Your dad would be very proud of you."
Harry gives her a wry look that is all too familiar. "I haven't done anything yet, Mum."
She kisses his cheek, and lets him get on the train. "You will."
"He's going to be a great Quidditch player," says James, as the baby kicks beneath his hand.
"You can tell that from the womb, can you?" Lily asks, grinning.
James nods sagely. "He'll be in Gryffindor, he'll lead the team to victory, and he'll doing something to help people. He'll… become an Auror. After performing an overhaul of the department, of course."
"That's an informative kick," says Lily, placing her hands atop his. "And if he's a Hufflepuff who prefers wizard's chess and wants to be a comedian?"
"Then we'll paint his room yellow, buy him a chess set and teach him my best jokes."
Lily laughs and the baby kicks again. "Your jokes are terrible."
"You think dirty limericks are funny," James scoffs, leaning his head on her shoulder. "You reckon you'd do any better?"
She giggles. "There once was a man from -"
James claps a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Not in front of the baby."
"I saw him," Harry tells her in a quiet, hoarse voice. He seems to have aged years since she watched him enter that maze, though it has only been hours. Lily thinks about how Cedric Diggory will never look older again, and she clutches her son tighter.
"Who did you see?" she asks, running a hand through his hair.
"Dad."
Her hand stills, and Harry plows on. "When our wands connected, he appeared, just like Cedric. He helped me through it. He told me it would be alright. He told me to be ready to run."
James Potter's last words were almost fourteen years ago now, but she remembers him telling her to run as if she is twenty-one again. It had nearly killed her to part with him then, but from the look on Harry's face, seeing his father might be keeping something in him alive.
She could apologize to him again for all he has been through, but she knows at this moment, that is not what Harry needs. So she says, "I'm glad you got to meet him. He adored you."
"He was tall," says Harry, leaning against her. "I knew from pictures, but it was different seeing him beside me."
Lily smiles. "When he would lift you up, you nearly touched the ceiling of the cottage. You always loved being up in the air, even then."
Harry's face crumples. Cedric faced Harry in Quidditch, Lily remembers. He had been a good opponent, fair. If he had made it out of that maze, Lily thinks he could've been a part of the reassembled Order of the Phoenix. But he was too young to be fighting in a war, just like she and James were, just like Harry is.
She pulls him to her once more, and when Hermione startles him away from her, Lily gives Harry the potion that Madame Pomfrey has provided him. He falls back against his pillows.
Lily's hand falls to her scar, which had burned so painfully not long ago. She wishes that she could keep herself from dreaming tonight.
"Lily, wake up."
She groans, stretching her leg until she can nudge a wayward limb with her toes. "It's your turn." She makes no other attempt to move.
James makes a sound of protest, burying himself deeper in his blankets. "I got him twice night before last."
She scoffs, closing her eyes. "Only because you didn't settle him properly the first time."
Lily expects a protest, but there is a pause, and a rustling of sheets. She feels James's lips press against her throat, trailing up to her jaw. "What are you doing?" she asks with a grin.
He slides a hand into her hair, his mouth on hers now. "Waking you up," he says in a breath.
She is not about to object to this particular technique, but the sound of Harry in the other room makes her pull away. "Someone needs to go look after Harry,"
"I know," he says, giving her one last, hard kiss. "I will."
She opens her eyes and fixes him with a quizzical look. "Then why wake me up?"
His smirk is all wickedness as he gets out of bed. "You'll see."
She isn't sure when she realizes it, but she thinks some part of her always knew. The way her chest would feel at times, the searing pain bursting behind the scar. Dumbledore's portrait fills in the gaps that night and Lily knows what she must do. So when Voldemort calls her son to him in the Forbidden Forest, she makes her way to the scene as well. She waits at a distance until she hears Harry speak.
Lily only looks at Harry for a moment before she steps in front of him, but she thinks she sees something beside him. A shadow, or a flicker of light, yet something that is warm and familiar. It fills her up with courage as she defends her son.
Voldemort stares at her through red eyes. "You will not save him." he says, and raises his wand against her for the second time.
She sees a green flash of light and then black.
She feels a great sense of nothingness, but in feeling this, realizes that there must still be something left of her. Her thoughts come slowly, but as she envisions her own existence she also realizes the presence of something else.
The something is struggling, and she thinks, strangely, that it might be Harry. Not the grown man that she has given her life for, but the baby she had placed in the cot so many years ago.
But this sound is too awful to be her boy, and when she seeks it out, she sees something that is not quite a child. It is the product of some horrible neglect, and she should swallow her discomfort and reach for it, but before she can do so, she recognizes another presence.
"There's nothing we can do."
She turns and sees her husband. He wears the same clothes he was wearing the night he died, and his face looks ever-young, almost a mirror image of Harry's. But she looks into his eyes and sees a man who has seen everything she has, and has been with her every step of the way.
"James," she says softly.
He smiles at her. "Lily. I've missed you."
She falls into his arms, and finds that they must both be solid, because she does not pass through him. He is real and he is with her and she is happy.
"Is this where we go?" she asks, not letting go of him.
James shakes his head. "We go on," he says simply. "But you're not dead."
She looks up at her husband. It has been seventeen years since she has seen him this close. "But then… how…?"
"When I gave my life for yours and Harry's that night, I protected you both. That protection lives on in Harry, and it is twofold because of what you did tonight. Our son gives you another chance at life."
Half of her mind is now back in the forest, wondering if their son is safe. The protection spell did not keep Harry from being touched in the graveyard, and she is not certain if not being dead means that her protection spell is only temporary. She has every faith that he can defeat Voldemort, but she wants him to come out of it alive.
Yet the other half of her mind is here, in this place, with James. He is by her side once more it seems impossible to say goodbye a second time. He answers her without her needing to speak. "You could stay," he offers, smiling at her. "But you won't."
Lily's eyes well up, because even in death, James Potter knows her better than anyone else in the world. "I'll be back, one day," she says.
He kisses her, and lets her go. "I'll be waiting."
