"Lily!"

She heard the panicked call from the kitchen, where she was cleaning up the counter, and immediately headed toward him, not even bothering to take off the apron she'd slipped on over her jeans. "James?" she called softly, voice tense. Ever since they'd gone into hiding, she'd been afraid to hear that tone in his voice, afraid of what it could mean. It can't she thought. He wouldn't, he couldn't, how could he, no, he wouldn't.

And then her thoughts—and breath—stopped for a moment as she rounded the corner and saw, in the eerie Halloween lights, the band of death eaters and their unmistakable master, who had gathered to pay the duo a visit.

Lily's first thought was of James. What was he doing, standing out there at the edge of the semicircle looking at them like he could take them all on? Curse him for his bloody Gryffindor courageousness, the same sort of bravery that had gotten him in so much trouble in school.

Her second thought was of Harry. What was she going to do to him? She couldn't fight normally with him in her arms, couldn't risk the idea of him getting hit, but couldn't leave him defenseless anywhere else. What the hell was she going to do?

Then she saw the figure standing beside Voldemort, and she bit back a choke. "Peter" she whispered in a strangled voice, the look on her face further betraying her sad shock. She could tell by the line of James' shoulders, the way his hands were in fists, that he, too, was struggling to deal with the fact that their friend—one of their best friends—was standing there, and the implications that came with it.

"You're despicable," James spit out, and she could almost see the way his face was contorted with anger. "You disgusting, good for nothing, sick, twisted…" The silence, the fact that no one was throwing spells, the entire thing terrified her beyond imagination. Without turning, James said clearly to her, "Lily, take him and go." Every single part of her body pushed her to say No, damnit, James, we've done this together before and gotten through it, why should this time be any different?

Only it was. This time it wasn't about them, wasn't about the Order or saving their hides, it was about keeping him from their baby, their Harry. So she forced her feet to take a step back, heart pounding, knowing that this was completely and utterly screwy and Lord Merlin above, please, this wasn't how it was supposed to be, what was she supposed to do, they'd never honestly thought Peter would…

Don't think about that. Get your child. The Order will come, Dumbledore and Sirius and Remus and…and James is strong, he's an adult, he's done this before.

Not alone whispered that treacherous part of her mind.

She could hear, as she moved away, the spells sent at her to try to stop her movement, the ricochet of the magic off of the walls of the house, the breaking of wood and flickering of fire. Get the baby, oh Merlin, Harry…

She veered to the right and heard footsteps entering the house. Her heart was fit to burst from her chest, and she scooped Harry up, cursing the fact that there was only one exit, why hadn't they put in any windows, why had it seemed like a good idea at the time, why hadn't they known that the Death Eaters wouldn't've just broken into a window and killed him, that they would've wanted to make a show out of it, of course, it was so like them, their twisted disgusting masked cowardly selves.

She turned halfway and let out a little cry as a slash of pain tore across the back of her legs, forcing her to collapse onto the floor, using her body as a flesh-made shield to keep spells from hitting her son. Fuck, why hadn't she heard that? Too late, she was immobilized now, There were yells now, curses being thrown, and she could almost hear the structure of the house she had so loved crumbling and falling.

Lily heard the sound, really, before she registered the light. The thud of his body falling to the floor, the feeling that one of the only things that made life worth living had been wrenched from her grasp. Then the green light that told her that this time, there had been no mercy, that there would be no fourth miraculous walk away from a brush with the Dark Lord. Fuck, James, she thought in her head. Did you have to be the hero again, did you have to be so…so…goddamn. Even in his death he found ways to make her love him even more. She blinked back the tears and clutched at Harry, who was crying now, obviously terrified by the loud, strange sounds and the oncoming heat of rapidly growing fire.

She didn't even need to look to identify the shadow that came up from behind the Death Eater who'd petrified her. And he probably didn't even need to ask to know the answer to his next question, but he asked anyway.

The offer to spare her life in exchange for Harry's nearly made Lily laugh. "You're mad," she said venomously, clutching Harry to her chest. She raised her wand arm up to stun him, stop him, do anything to buy her time so that—

The last thing she saw was green light, and the last thought that lingered on her mind before the immediate blackness was –so that James' death is not in vain, so that Harry can live. Please.