Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it's world, or it's characters. All of those belong to the famous and amazing J.K. Rowling, and anyone she had sold the rights to. That does not include me. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction, and no copyright infringement is intended. I only own this spin-off of her world, nothing else that is recognizable as the world or characters of Harry Potter.
Lily would be lying if she said she wasn't scared of death. She would be lying if she said that the icy cold adrenaline running through her veins at this moment wasn't the thing urging her forward, keeping the fear at bay.
She didn't know where James was. He told her to protect Harry, that Voldemort had broken through the wards. She didn't want to leave him, she wanted to fight alongside her husband, but Harry's name sent her sailing through the house, her feet barely touching the floor as she ran.
One pale hand clutched her elm-wood wand as she reached Harry's crib. Her heart raced as fast as her feet had moments before as she cast spell after spell on his crib; disillusionment charms, wards, anything that would help save her baby-her and James' child.
Then she heard something and her heart nearly stopped a door opening. Lily turned around, her red hair sticking to her face with sweat as she saw the figure before her.
A dark haired man stared at her from beneath a black, hooded cloak, reminiscent of a dementor. He would have been handsome if not for the evil gleam in his eyes, those brown, haunting eyes, that stared at her with disgust and triumph.
He had won. Lily knew James was dead, and she looked over her shoulder at her baby boy he had died for once with tears in her emerald eyes before she looked back at Voldemort.
He raised his wand, pointing it at her chest, and Lily Potter did the same. She would die that night… but Harry would be worth it.