This is just a one-shot on what Lily's thoughts might have been the night of her death.

I don't own Harry Potter... sadly.

"James, for Pete's sake, take the kid upstairs to bed, it's already past 11 o'clock!" I chided laughingly as James continued to chase Harry around while he was flying on his toy broomstick. Sirius had given it to him... what a thoughtful gift! I secretly harbored the hope that Harry would turn out to be a star quidditch player... just like his father.

I know it's a cliche, but my mind wandered once again to how seemingly impossible it was that I ended up with James. I had tried so hard to despise him in our school days, and look where we were now? Sure, we were hiding from an all-powerful dark Lord, but we were in a cozy house with Harry. And if we hadn't gotten together... there would be no Harry.

"Come on, Lily, let us have a bit of fun!" James laughed heartily.

I rolled my eyes, but it was with a smile.

All of a sudden, my ears pricked up at a small sound. James heard it too. He looked at me. It sounded like the turn of a lock.

Our gazes snapped to each other's. A heavy yet silent look passed between us. I hated being on my toes like this, but until the trouble was averted...

James gave me a look as if to say he would go check. I nodded almost imperceptibly, barely breathing.

James went silently out of the room. I waited a moment before hearing his yell. "It's HIM! TAKE HARRY AND RUN!"

Him. Him. Who was Him? Oh, Him Him. That was Him. We were in trouble.

I hurriedly snatched Harry off the ground and into my arms.

Whatever it took, he was NOT getting my baby.

I pounded up the stairs, casting James one last furtive look. there was no time to kiss him, or tell him I loved him.

There was also no time for tears.

I slammed my way into Harry's room, cradling him to me as he curled close. I hated this. I could have cried. But there was no time for tears.

Breathing heavily, I settled him down in his crib. He peered, interested, at me through the bars of the crib.

My chest heaving, I brushed a few strands of my flaming red hair out of my face. Looking Harry in the eyes, I forced myself to speak to him calmly.

"Harry. Harry, be safe. Be strong."

And then He burst into the room. With that motion, I knew James was dead.

I stood and faced Voldemort like the woman I was. I would be strong before my child. I thrust my arms out wide, as if to protect Harry.

"Not Harry, not Harry, PLEASE NOT HARRY!" I begged.

He left out a cold, high laugh. "Stand aside, you silly girl."

Silly girl, was I? A hard stare came across my face.

"Not Harry, please not Harry..." A thought occurred to me. 'Take me! Take me instead! KILL ME INSTEAD!"

I knew it was going to end. Either me or Harry (or both of us, for that matter) would end up dead tonight. James already was. And, if I had it my way, it would just be me.

"Have mercy! Please... have mercy," I begged fruitlessly. He was making me stoop to a low level, and I despised him for it. Heck, I despised him anyways. But if it was the only way to potentially save Harry...

"This is my last warning!" he commanded me.

"PLEASE TAKE ME! TAKE ME INSTEAD! TAKE. ME!" I shrieked, my back pressed against Harry's crib.

"Stand aside, girl!" Voldemort yelled, creeping slowly towards me.

It struck me that he could have forced me away, let me live. He very well could have. And it seemed he might. But then he realized it would just be better to finish us all off. And so he carried on.

He raised his arm, his wand. I didn't close my eyes. He would watch the light leave them. He would see the damage he wrecked. He would see that, even in death, I was strong. That not all of his victims were submitting.

I wondered if James had faced him with eyes wide open. Would he?

"I bet he would," I murmured out loud as He struck his wand down. For a nanosecond, a flash of green light filled my vision, and then all was dark.