Her husband's vows reverberated through her soul, "Til death do us part. Actually scratch that, even after death because I never want to be apart from you, even in death you'll be stuck with me!"
The ghost of his laugh in that moment ached in her chest. She would have liked to say that in her dying moments she thought of her son. Of Harry. The boy that would be able to save the world from all this. The one that had the power within him to end Voldemort's reign of terror. The Chosen One. But even as the wand pointed at the centre of her forehead, she found her thoughts unknowingly slip into James. His messy hair; his deep, roaring laugh; the way his eyes sparkled with tears when he held Harry for the first time; the look of pure happiness when he held up the quidditch cup in seventh year; the way he smiled at her when he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. Her mind quickly jumped back to Harry as she looked into his face and saw James' for the last time. The man she loved with every fibre of her being. Her heart ached as she thought of the very little time they had actually spent together. She blinked and turned back, her arms wide in a futile attempt to protect her boy. Sirius will take the fall for this.
"Avada..."
Harry. Harry. Harry. She filled her final thoughts with her beautiful son. Even now, he giggled softly, probably thinking this was all a game. Little, fat fists grappled at her long hair and he pulled, as he so often did. A habit he shared with his father.
"Kedavra."
She would have liked to say that in her dying moment, she thought of Harry. But she didn't. She thought of James.