My heart stops - I can't breathe. Fear. Anguish. Denial. Anger. Grief. Empty. All at once.

Destroyed. Her house is destroyed. Crumbling. The foundations are strong, but that didn't matter. He is sprawled in front of the stairs. His round glasses smashed to pieces behind his head. My foot by his nose.

Slowly. I climb the stairs slowly. Cautiously. The ceiling might cave in; the stairs might fall out from under me. At the top. I can't move. She's dead – she must be. Of course she is. Is she? I have to be sure.

Hand on the doorknob. Slowly turn. Just a crack. Just a peek.

Hand. Her hand. Pale. Lifeless. She's dead. Is she?

Crying. Is she dead, yet his son alive?

Open.

Harry is in his crib, sobbing and looking at her.

I scream.

My heart falls to my stomach as I fall to my knees. Oh, Lily. My poor Lily…

I cradle her head in my arms. Her eyes staring at ceiling. She never forgave me…If only I hadn't…why had I?

Then James Potter had gone and stolen her away…

My cries had joined Harry's. I look up at him, the eyes that are so like hers. Too young to understand, yet every bit as heartbroken as me.

Oh Lily…