Copyright to JK Rowling.
Lily sat with her back against the wall, knees bent up into her chest.
Her eyes were damp. Swollen.
Her body was sore.
She was practically oblivious to the people moving behind her, the distant and panicked chatter. She just didn't care.
She felt a body slide down next to her and sigh; she didn't look up or register who it was. She was happy for the company. But she didn't open her eyes.
She wished she could be the oblivious person she had been a few years before, back in her Hogwarts days. She was a stronger person then.
She just felt so weak and useless now.
In the distance she heard the low voice of Sirius Black. She kept her eyes shut.
The unknown person next to her squeezed her hand comfortingly and left.
She felt lonely again.
For one of the first times in her life, she had genuine fear.
Fear of what was too come, what would happen.
All her childhood worries seemed stupid in comparison to this. To Voldemort.
Life was malicious, and so was he.
He had no compassion, he didn't care, and he was 'The Dark Lord'.
She winced at the thought of that mark etched onto Severus' forearm.
She couldn't care for Severus anymore, he didn't care for her, and the Order needed her.
She finally opened her eyes to the destroyed room. Distressed and broken.
The room reflected her mood, but now wasn't the time to wallow in self pity.
She exhaled.
This sets the scene. (Sort of)
The next chapter will be set three years earlier.