This is the first time I have ever posted something on this site and I hope that someone will actually read this story. I wanted to make this piece longer, but it just seemed to taper off to an end at its own pace. Hopefully you like it.
No, I do not own Harry Potter or its characters in any way, shape or form.
If I could get even one review, it would make my day :)
"James!" Lily croaked. The events of the night came rushing back to her in full force, knocking the breath out of her like a physical blow. "James – no – no, no, no, James! J-James you c-can't…" Lily drew in a ragged breath – for now she had started to cry – and continued muttering to herself as though her husband's life depended on it. "…b-b-be…d-d," but she couldn't finish the sentence. For how could he be? James, her James, her wonderful, brave James, de – Lily shuddered, the thought too awful to bear.
"No," said Lily aloud, her determination not to believe the inevitable seeping through into her voice. She would go downstairs to the sitting room, and find James there, still lounging on the sofa. Yes, she would get up, off of this disgustingly dirty floor (she made a mental note to herself to clean it), and go find her husband.
Lily stood up, but couldn't take more than one step in the direction of the door, for a sudden rush off blood to her head threw her off balance. Clutching the wall in support, Lily waited for the stars in her eyes to stop popping, and for the rushing in her ears to end. Straightening up, Lily made for the door once more, but this time, her progress was interrupted, not by a sudden dizziness, but by a wail from behind her.
Slowly turning on the spot, Lily took in a terrible sight, a sight so terrible that she was shaken out of her reverie. No more impossible thoughts of James' survival came to mind anymore. Instead, the awful, bare truth swelled inside and around her.
The room in which she was in was barely discernible amidst the piles of rubble – plaster and drywall lay in scattered piles all over the room, glass shards littered amongst them, some even lodged in the walls – or, at least what was left of them. A huge, gaping hole seemed to have swallowed half of the room. The roof had caved in in parts, and in others, it seemed to have vanished completely, or perhaps it had been blown into the garden below. The walls ended in jagged edges, and the blue-striped wallpaper around those edges was torn and peeling as though it had aged years in one night. The whole room had a sombre, sinister feeling about it – in short, it looked like a bomb blast had gone off in the room.
Lily's breath caught in her throat and her eyes began to water, in part because of the intense emotions and also because of the thick, choking dust that filled the air. Tears began to stream down her face anew. Memories of the time she'd spent in that room flooded into her mind, and with a howl of misery, Lily crumpled on the floor, great sobs shaking her entire body. She remembered touring the room for the first time as James showed her around the house, she remembered spending winter afternoons in there, reading books, or otherwise gazing at the beautiful scenery of Godric's Hollow. She went back to the enjoyable afternoons that she and James had spent remodelling the room into a nursery after they received the wonderful news that they were to have a baby, and then nights spent reading to Harry as he fell asleep in his crib.
Lily shook and shuddered on the floor, the tears now coming uncontrollably as memory after memory came back to her.
She started as another wail shook her from her stupor. Glancing up, she saw Harry lying in his crib, his small face red with the effort he was putting into showing his misery. His little fists and feet flailing in the air, he was practically screaming his discontent.
With no longer the strength to stand, Lily raised herself to her hands and knees and pulled herself towards her son, careful to avoid the holes that littered the floor. Upon reaching the crib, Lily pulled herself up by the bars and extended her two shaking arms. She scooped Harry up, and staggered backwards, hitting the wall behind her. Lily teetered slightly on her unsteady feet, then slid to the floor against the wall.
Harry had quieted down somewhat now that he was cradled in his mother's arms, but tears continued to pour down his face. Lily offered no words of comfort, for she, too was crying. After what seemed like an eternity, Lily lapsed into silence, too anguished for tears. She sat there, lost in thought, with only Harry' cries to remind her of the passing time.
Lily closed her eyes and slipped into nothingness.