It was difficult to remember what life on the outside was like.
Lily and James Potter had been trapped inside their own home for nearly three months.
At first, it had been fine. Cosy. What else could they want anyway, but each other and Harry?
The answer became evident soon enough.
Freedom.
Human beings need freedom to live. Or to want to live.
They need to know that they're free to go outside, to take a bike ride, to sunbathe, to feel the wind against their skin. Even if some preferred inside, the allure of nature was one to counter even the most homeward-bound of people.
Lily longed for that now. She remembered the feel of the cruel British wind tugging at her fiery hair; her clothes. She remembered how it felt to hear the gravel of the uneven winding paths crunch under her feet.
But now she was here; it was three in the morning, and the only thing comforting her was the sound of James's heavy breathing.
She stared at the ceiling, engrossed in the way the spider-webs cast shadows in the early morning light.
It wasn't just the way she couldn't physically go outside. It was psychological too. Lily felt as if she were trapped inside her own mind, the darkness pulling at her from all angles. It tried to drag her down, and the only reason she could stay here, stay functioning, was the man beside her.
James Potter. Lily Evans.
Whoever would have thought they'd be in this situation now?
But despite the comfort of the man she loved, Lily still felt it all the time. Once or twice, she'd allowed herself to become fully submerged in this deep, dark pit that existed entirely inside her mind, but felt so real. It was difficult. She welcomed the sadness; the numbness, so it was difficult to banish.
She couldn't cry. She wished she could, for in her younger years she'd always felt better after a few shed tears.
It didn't happen anymore though. Just the numbness.
Lily lay there for another ten minutes, before a piercing cry roused her.
Lily stood up, unwillingly clawed from the pit she'd begun to sink in to.
She entered Harry's room, and she looked at him.
James's hair. Her eyes.
He didn't know what was happening. His green eyes shone with a mixture of tears and relief when Lily entered the room, and his cries reduced to whimpers.
She loved him so much. That was why she was doing this; for him.
Harry was worth so much more than this.
Lily picked up her nine-month-old son and suddenly, without a thought crossing her mind; she cried.