The Calm Before the Storm
James sat quietly, numbly, in the hard wicker chair. The entire room gave off an air of sterilization, from the white walls down to the brown wicker chairs with no bit out of place. A thin blonde healer walked past briskly, from one white door to the other, giving him a pitiful smile. James knew this was bad news.
Suddenly, the door flew open. A breathless red-head tumbled in, mussed hair and rumpled clothes. Upon seeing him here, so desolate and lost, she breathed a sigh of relief, which she then quickly retracted.
"James, darling…" she trailed off, stepping slowly closer and squeezing herself into the small chair with him. "I got here as soon as your owl arrived." She didn't say anymore, there was no more to be said. He didn't thank her, he knew she had come miles and miles for him, and she knew that he would do the same for her. She didn't say sorry, or apologize. It would make the situation seem too real, too serious.
"Oh, Lil," he said softly, gathering her small warmth into his arms. He felt her wrap her arms around him in turn, rubbing his back gently.
"Ssshh James darling, it's going to be alright," she cooed gently, stroking his hair. "Everything will turn out for the better, you'll see." A tear, unwanted but not banished, trickled down his cheek. "Darling," she said softly as she smoothed his hair away from his forehead, and absentmindedly kissed away the tear.
They sat like this for a while, in the sterilized waiting room, waiting for the inevitable. James' eyes drooped, and he fell asleep on Lily's shoulder, in the calm before the storm.
&&&
"Ahem," an unfortunate official cleared his throat. He really had not been volunteered for this type of job when he signed on with St. Mungos. His job description had been clear desk work, but somehow, here he was, assigned to tell this peaceful looking young man the most disastrous news of his young life. "Ahem," he tried again, unwilling to physically wake the young couple. He looked immensely relived when the pretty red haired woman awakened with a blink.
"James, darling," she said, shaking him softly. Lily wanted to glare at the official, the harboring bad news. For one glance at him had told her far more then she wanted to know.
"Wassamatter?" James said groggily, jumping to his feet, only to crumple back into the chair at the sight of the miserable official. They both new what it meant. "Well get on with it," he growled in an unnecessarily harsh tone. Lily seemed to take pity on the man, however.
"Please, is Mr. Potter's mother alright?" she asked the man gently, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, erm, right. St. Mungos regrets to inform you that Elaine G. Potter passed away at five in the morning, in her sleep. It was a natural death, induced possibly by the stress of recent events. We also ask that you remove Mr. Harold Potter from the scene, as he is preventing the approach of nurses. That is all," he finished abruptly, and fled the scene.
James had gone deathly pale, his sparkling hazel eyes dead behind his glasses. "Mum," he whispered painfully, before fainting dead. Lily helped him to the couch, and waited until he had marginally recovered before reminding him of his father.
"James, the official mentioned your father causing a scene. You should probably go get him, bring him home." James looked at her with pleading eyes.
"Will you come with me?" He asked, like a small child afraid of the dark. In silent answer, Lily took his hand and led him to one of those hated, sterilized doors.
A/N: This will be a depressing fic basically detailing the toll the war is taking on all of them, probably ending with Lily and James' death, although might do some out of the Marauders' era. REVIEW?