When he arrived, she knew that she wouldn't survive the night.
When he arrived, she knew her husband wouldn't survive the night.
When he arrived, all Lily Potter could think about was getting Harry to safety.
She had just been trying to put him to sleep when he, Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arrived.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" shouted James from downstairs.
Immediately, fear spiked Lily's senses.
She screamed.
And then a high, cold voice sounded from downstairs, saying, "Avada Kedavra!" and she heard a dull thump as something hit the floor.
She screamed some more, for she knew that now, James was dead and that she, surely, would soon be going the same way. It took everything she had not to just have a melt-down, and the only thing that kept her going now was the small, slim hope that Harry would somehow survive.
She prayed with all her might to every powerful force she knew existed, just hoping, pleading, begging, that the little boy in her arms would survive as she piled up all the furniture and boxes in the room against the door, even though she knew that they would be futile attempts to stop him.
She heard him coming up the stairs and screamed even louder, if that was possible.
She heard him blast the door open and screamed, screamed, and screamed, backing away from the door as everything she had managed to pile up was blasted aside.
And then she saw him, pale as snow, red eyes flashing with amusement, wand raised.
She dropped Harry into the crib behind her and threw her arms out, shielding Harry from him.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she shouted.
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –"
"This is my last warning –"
"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything…"
"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"
But she wouldn't, and she looked at Harry one last time before she saw flash of green light and all was gone.