Fear
It froze its way through my body, numbing my skin, turning my blood to ice crystals and breaking out in violent shivers. The scene in front of me swam and I grabbed onto the side of the cot to steady myself.
Nothing had prepared me for this. No matter how many shield charms and hexes I'd learnt, no matter how many Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons I'd sat through. No matter how many Death Eaters I'd killed, nor muggles I'd buried – nothing had prepared me for the sound of James' death.
No spells came to mind as I stared at the white door upon which I had painted a broomstick and listened to the creaks of our quaint old staircase as the Dark Lord walked up it. All I could do was clutch at the pale blue cot in which Harry sat, his large green eyes unsure of what to make of his mother's hysterical breathing, and his father lying downstairs… cold and dead…
Don't think about James. I told myself harshly.
I gulped and dug my fingernails into the wood of Harry's cot, feeling them tear and bleed.
Creak.
He was coming. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You-Know-who. Lord Vol… Volde...
Oh how pathetic, Lily. You can't even think his name, not even in the face of death.
James could. He had said it, and had never flinched like I did. Stupid-Stupid-Stupid. It was just a name for Agrippa's sake!
Creak.
I whimpered. I didn't want to. No doubt he heard me and was smiling to himself – the sick bastard. It was just the knowledge that… that I was going to die. The Dark Lord knew it. He knew that the wards James and I had put up around the house prevented anyone apparating in, but also anyone apparating out. He knew that I couldn't jump out of a second floor window with a 1 year old child, that there were no broomsticks up here for fear of Harry grabbing one and crashing into a wall. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knew that I was trapped here with Harry, with nowhere to run and nothing to do but quake with fear.
"I'm sorry, Harry." I whispered, unable to bring myself to turn away from the door. "I love you, and I'm so, so sorry." Tears slid clumsily to the floor. No point crying now, Lily. You don't want to give him that satisfaction. Angrily I wiped them away and sniffed. "I'm sorry, James. I can't protect our son. Oh god… you died for nothing and it's all my fault. Damn!" I wiped away the traitorous tears and fisted my hands. I wouldn't let him kill Harry, not without trying. I would die for my son.
The door creaked open.
"I'm sorry, James."
A flash of green light. Cold laughter.
Harry began to cry.