Disclaimer: I own nothing and have no rights. Poor, poor pitiful me.
There are only two things that anybody need know about James Potter. One. He fought in a war that was both brutal and kept well under wraps. Two. He was deliriously in love with the likes of Lily Evans, so much so that her rejections were brutal and his adoration for her was never a secret.
Lily and James were young. She was not but seventeen when James presented a ring to her on one knee underneath the willow tree at his parents' lake house. Waiting was never something either of them could do, not with a war brewing outside of their happy little world. They were married quickly, as soon as she found a dress and he found a suit. It was nothing extravagant like she dreamed of and he had the wealth to afford. It was perfect.
Married young, and parents young. They never did anything the way they were supposed to. She was pregnant, and they were surprised. Nine months later a beautiful little boy that had his father's hands and hair and nose but his mother's eyes was put in Lily's arms. And for the first time James Potter was legitimately terrified. How could he protect and take care of an infant that could not walk, that could not heed simple orders like run?
It wasn't long until that terror got to him. He decided one day at work that this war, this place was no place for Lily and his son. He went home with a heavy heart and could not even muster the courage to kiss his wife before he demanded she pack her things and their son's and disappear to somewhere safer. He left Lily and Harry alone, by themselves in a new world, a world that James was sure was safe.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Lily had never been alone before and suddenly she was. She loved James, but that love took a harder edge and easily turned into hate. She hated him for leaving her alone, for leaving her to go through every fever and toothache and tantrum by herself. But one day a fellow entered her world.
Nick was good. Nick was sweet. Nick was a father of two daughters. He held her hand. He told her she was beautiful when she finally came to bed at three in the morning after soothing her toddler's nightmares. Nick's love was easy and understandable and she found that she could be comforted by him. And years had passed. James wasn't coming back. And for the second time in her life, a man bent his knee for her with a ring in hand. Lily accepted his proposal.
She put him out, like the burning end of a midnight cigarette. She broke his heart, and he spent his whole life trying to forget.
The war ended. Headlines read "You Know Who, Defeated At Last!" and "All Wizards and Witches Celebrate, He Is Dead" But James had no cause to celebrate. He survived the war, and in doing so had spent the last five years by himself. His only consolation was that one day, he'd see his wife and his little boy again. With all haste he returned to California where he had left her so many years ago. He found her, and he had not felt so joyful in such a long time. He rushed to her neighborhood and to her house and knocked on the door.
Lily had just finished making breakfast for the crew of children that lived in her house. Nick was leaning against the counter and watching her dole out two pancakes to every plate and pull their little girl into her lap as she finally sat down. But it seemed like the moment she sat was a reason to give the young mother a reason to stand back up. A loud knock sounded on their front door. Nick laughed, shaking his head before kissing the top of his wife's head and opened the door himself.
James was a nervous wreck. He was shaking and jittery and unsure of himself, and that behavior was very out of the ordinary for our young war veteran. The blood drained from his face the moment the door opened. And no sooner than he'd found his voice was he yelling. Lily's heart leapt to her throat and she passed Alice Dean off to thirteen year old Sara and ran to the front door.
And then he was gone. James looked between her and Nick and the rings on her finger, and James was gone, disappeared back to Godric's Hollow.
We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time. But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind until the night he put that bottle to his head, and pulled the trigger.
James went back to his home angry and miserable and hateful. He stayed at Godric's Hollow a total of two nights before he lit a torch and stood in front of his house with a bottle of whiskey in hand as he watched the home he once shared with Lily burn to the ground. But as the fire danced, it did not consume his memories. It did not kill the torch he still carried for her.
James came in late and crashed on Sirius' couch many nights before even Sirius tried to pry the bottle from James' hands. He met that with flying fists. He missed Lily and thought about her daily, with every sip of whiskey. James was not the man he once was. Where bravery, courage, wit, and humor ruled now there was nothing but anger, sadness, and a hint of whiskey on every breath he took. James could never forget her. He couldn't forget his son.
There came a night where he could no longer stomach the pain. He pressed his lips to the picture of Lily in her wedding gown before finding that pistol her father kept from his days in the war. His tears fell as he loaded it, staring at Lily happy and carefree and his. He knew he would never be happy without her. That he would love her until he was no more.
We found him with his face down in the pillow, with a note that said "I'll love her until I die." When we buried him beneath the willow, the angels sang a whiskey lullaby.
Sirius found him. It so happened that just a few weeks earlier had Sirius been thinking about death, about what he would do and how he would cope when his brother, his best friend passed on. Sirius had not known a world without James since they were eleven. At the age of thirty one, that was twenty years. Sirius wept openly for the first time, attempting to shake James' body awake. But it was no use. James was dead, killed by a mundane muggle tool.
Lily heard of it in her bubble in California. The infamous heartbroken war hero was a story told over and over again. Lily attended his memorial service but hid herself near the back of the crowd that came to see James be put to rest. When all left, she approached his closed casket and fell onto it, weeping for the loss of the one man she truly loved.
