His lips tasted of fudge the first time that she kissed him. It wasn't particularly romantic when she had first stopped pushing him away, but it was spontaneous and harsh and full of life. She remembered the rich chocolate taste that had lingered on her lips afterwards, and she remembered the way that his lips had crashed against hers with the exact passion she had been denying for years. She had since then associated fudge and varying types of chocolate with James.
As she ran her tongue across her lips, Lily Evans Potter thought of the way James's lips had tasted that first day of their relationship and mused, as she often did, about how her life had gone through certain unusual twists and turns. She thought of how many other kisses they had shared over the past five years, but she realized that none were brought as easily to mind as that chocolate-y one they had shared in the corridors of Hogwarts.
But now, seconds after she had heard James drop to the floor downstairs and after she had silently prayed that he was just Stunned, not dead, she wondered if their last kiss would be the one she would remember the best. She had been cooking dinner with one of her hands on the handle of the pan and the other stirring with a wooden spoon when he had surprised her by sneaking up on her and pecking the left side of her mouth. James had then leaned over what she had been cooking, smelled it, and commented that it would be good. Lily had smiled at him, and he produced a somewhat cocky grin that she remembered from their days at school. She was about to scold him for it when he laughed and walked out of the room.
Lily wanted to scream; she wanted to burst out in the tears, but she couldn't bear to show a sign of weakness when she knew that she might die tonight. She couldn't bear just to give up when this might be the end, when this might be the last thing she could ever do in life.
Then she realized that the last kiss she would ever share with somebody would be with Harry, the baby nestled in her arms as she ran. She had gently pressed her lips to his forehead where she did not know the scar would rest. Harry still had that baby skin that rested palely beneath that shock of jet-black hair. She had breathed in that scent of soap, and she had no time to think about how different it was compared to the fudge scent that had lingered on her lips after she had kissed James that cold winter day in Scotland.
She would have given herself up for James; there had been no question about that in her mind, and there was no question that she would lay down his life for their only son. It was instinctive; it was the only thing that she could now offer as a mother and a wife. She comforted herself with the fact that it would be painless, just a fast death that was starting to seem inevitable as she started to hear footsteps following after her.
She knew that she had to get to Harry's bedroom and barricade the door before trying to get out. She knew in the back of her mind that she was cornering herself in and making it easier for him to kill them both with two points of his wand.
Lily heard his voice shouting threatening messages at her, allowing her the opportunity to step back and live. She didn't bother to think about it as she raced into the room and gently laid Harry down in his crib. She glanced down at him for what she assumed would be the last time and felt her heart breaking as he gazed up at her with the bright green eyes that he had inherited from her. Those tiny emerald orbs stared up at her, and Lily tried to memorize the face that was the exact copy of his father's.
She turned quickly around when the door was thrown open, and Lily looked upon who would become her murderer. His snake-like face caused her heart to leap into her throat with terror. His frightening red eyes looked past her body to see the crib that she was sheltering. She moved herself as to block his view of the boy that was laying in his bed.
"Move aside, silly girl," he snarled at her. She didn't know who she was screaming for or whether it would help at all, but she screamed words that burst out of her mouth, and her ears shut down against the sound of his voice. She stood firmly with her feet in a broad stance, and she knew what was coming.
He had pulled out his wand, muttered one last warning to her, and then produced that blinding green light with the curse that was so universally condemned. She saw the light racing toward her, faster than anything she had ever seen before.
The last thoughts that she had were recalling the way the fudge smell had clung to both their lips and the idea that she thought she smelled it all around her at that moment.
Then Lily Potter was dead.