After Dusk Comes the Stars
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing. I own this saga in my dreams.
"Lily, he's coming!" A frantic James Potter tears around the corner of the hallway like a lunatic. Lily Potter clutches a wailing Harry to her chest, fear blooming on her now deathly pale complexion, seconds before still rosy and healthy. "No," she whispers as she hugs baby Harry tighter to her. "Not now, no..."
"Lily! Take Harry and run! I'll hold him off!" Her husband waves his arms in a gesture reminiscent of a windmill. She is afraid, unusual for the normally fearless woman. "But you don't even have your wand!" she screams in a desperate attempt to keep her husband away from danger. The downstairs door creaks in the background, groaning with the sound of a slithering robe with it. She tenses up, a ghostly look on her face. Of all the places that the most feared wizard of all time could go to, he comes to their humble home at Godric's Hollow.
James Potter takes her face in his hands, and she knows it will be the last time he does any shows of affection, or does anything again for that matter. A trademark smirk flashes painfully across his once tight expression. "I'll be fine," he murmurs, trailing his fingers across her clenched jaw. She stares at him with terror in her emerald eyes. He kisses her one last time on the cheek with a whispered "I love you." And her husband bolts downstairs like a true Gryffindor, facing his death courageously, defenseless, and she stands horrified at the stairway, mumbling "I love you," under her breath like a war chant.
After one silent moment of bated breath, one seemingly eternal moment, there is a cry of "Avada Kedavra!", a flash of green light, and all is over. She hears the clatter of those glasses, the same since their days at Hogwarts. A thump as his lifeless body hits the carpeted floor. And she can't hold herself together any longer, and she doesn't care if the Dark Lord finds her, and she screams, tears rolling down her face.
In no time whatsoever, the notorious Lord Voldemort looms above her, red eyes gleaming, snake-like nostrils flaring, thin lips turning up in a forced grin. Lily is afraid that her nails are hurting her son, but she grips at him like he is her lifeline. And in a way, he is, for he is all that she has left. Baby Harry cries out in his mother's grasp. Voldemort's horrible glare turns to her son, and she can see his spider-like fingers clenching at his wand in a clear sign of enthusiasm and anticipation. She grits her teeth, locks of dark red hair falling like a waterfall in front of her eyes, obscuring her vision.
"The boy," he hisses, sending shivers up her spine, reducing Harry to racking sobs. Lily puts him down gently in his crib, and Harry's wide green eyes stare back up at her in fear. She can already see what will happen in the near future. She sees her lifeless body on the floor in the back of her mind.
"Step aside, silly girl," Voldemort growls under his scratchy breath, and she knows even without asking that he is craving blood. She moves closer to her son's crib, body hunching over the wooden bars. Her body trembles with the effort of trying to keep sobs inside.
"Mama loves you, Dada loves you," she whispers, diamond-like tears glistening on her cheeks. "Harry, be safe, be strong." She cannot think as the flash of green appears and her body thrusts itself forward to shield her son. And she screams, the pain like fire spreading through a forest. It blazes through her chest like an eternal flame.
She can literally see every moment of her life flash by in front of her eyes, each memory so quick but so vivid.
"Tuney!" She jumps off the swing, soaring across the sky. And she feels free.
"Will the Dementors come?" she asks fearfully to a bright-eyed Severus Snape.
Diagon Alley is so big, she wishes she can spend the whole day looking at the shops and stores.
Her wand, it seems like such an insignificant thing. But she thinks it is the happiest day of her life.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"James Potter is an arrogant toerag! Always playing with that Snitch…"
"You filthy, little Mudblood!" Her tears leave tracks on her usually fierce face.
Their first kiss is gentle, the rays of the sun rippling across the waves of the lake. Her mind, usually alert, feels so groggy. But she thinks, that's okay.
James and Lily laugh inside The Three Broomsticks, sipping Butterbeer while watching the small snowflakes float gently down outside. His arm goes around her shoulder, and she can not only hear but also feel his voice as a vibration through her body. She hopes for more moments like this in the future.
A silver doe gallops alongside an equally bright silver stag. And she smiles at James with sparkling green eyes.
"Oh, amazing little Lily is back," Petunia drawls. "And she's got another nasty little boy with her again." Lily clenches her teeth while James peers over her head with curiosity, glasses glinting and hazel eyes questioning.
"Will you marry me?" She is now only flailing limbs and bright eyes. And she says yes. He really didn't even need to ask.
"You may now kiss the bride." And he sweeps her off her feet, and she thinks, No, this is the best day of my life. She can only beam her first smile as Lily Potter. Her smile rivals the sun in brightness.
"He looks just like you," she whispers, a bundle of joy in her arms with tufts of jet black hair. Her husband smiles with glee down at her. "But he has your eyes."
Little Harry sits on a tiny broomstick. "Sirius, you shouldn't have!" she laughs with delight as her son zooms across the living room. James guffaws. "He's a natural." Harry crashes into a porcelain vase and his laughs turn quickly into cries of pain and surprise at the hard impact.
Her husband kisses her for the last time, whispering his love to her before heading downstairs to his fate.
Voldemort's ghastly face stares down at her, her greatest fear coming true.
As she crumples to the floor, the last thing she feels is the vibration through the carpet as Voldemort falls. The last thing she hears is Harry's wails of pain. The last thing she sees is a blood red lightning bolt against a forehead.
And everything goes dark. There are no stars this fateful night.