A Oneshot. Credit for the idea goes to leafeater. Enjoy.
The Avada Kedavra curse is not painful. Lily felt it sweep over and through her like a cool breeze, like a spray of mist. She felt it separating her from the shock of James' death, the terror for Harry; these things it swept away, and everything else, and finally her body, too, and she was just Lily, clean and beautiful and finished.
When she woke up, it was all there again, all the emotions, but they seemed somehow farther away and milder; the sense of being just Lily was much stronger, and did not fade over time.
First, she closed her eyes and turned her mind to Harry.
Harry in the crib, sniffling but not crying. He must be very afraid to be so quiet, she knows. She wants to comfort him, but she is too far away. There is her body on the floor, which is so strange to look at, and there by the door is the man with the flat white face and the unspeakable eyes. He glides to Harry's crib and she sees his expression: cruelty and elation and hunger. There is no sound but she sees the curse fly at Harry and for a moment her terror is sharper and everything in her screams, please no –
The light of the curse hits Harry and disappears, and for a moment, all is still. And then –
Harry glows with bright white light and so does her killer, and there is still no sound but the house is being torn apart, the walls and ceiling are cracking outwards. Now everything is coming apart, including the white-faced man, and clouds of dust billow up as the house shatters. The crib's legs crack and Harry rolls out onto the floor, wailing soundlessly now but somehow still alive.
Lily saw the whole thing like it was a memory, but she knew it was happening at the moment she saw it. After she was sure Harry was safe, she drew her attention back to the place where she was just Lily. James, she thought, and as soon as she thought of him, there he was.
He smiled. "Lily."
"Yes. Did you see…?"
"Yeah."
"He's alive. But the house – it was Avada Kedavra, wasn't it?"
"Must have been. He came there to kill Harry."
"But then how…?"
"Lily, his face…in that moment before the house came apart, the look on his face…Something went wrong, it didn't go like he planned. He was – shocked, and scared. He was afraid, then."
Lily closed her eyes and smiled when she saw something to her liking. "Hagrid's found him…he's taking him away. To Dumbledore, I suppose." She laughed. "He's riding Sirius's bike!" Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she gasped, "Sirius! Nobody knows we switched, they'll think he told –"
James shook his head. "Dumbledore knows us, he couldn't possibly believe –"
"Even Dumbledore won't be able to prove anything! With evidence like this Sirius won't even have a trial."
She watched the horror dawn on James' face; his eyes widened and he shook his head slowly. "Lily…if Sirius is…arrested…who'll take care of Harry?"
"Dumbledore will find someone," Lily said confidently. "You know he'll be able to. Everyone in the Order loves Harry."
James looked worried. "Enough to keep him, though? To raise him? I dunno…"
"He'll find someone."
James closed his eyes. "Sirius is crying, poor kid…and Peter…Peter's running…Lily, why is Peter running?"
"He knows Sirius'll come after him. He thinks Sirius'll kill him."
"No…" James frowned and opened his eyes. "No, that doesn't make sense. Peter must have protection now, why doesn't he just report back to his… his…" James got a slightly dazed look on his face, as the obvious idea occurred to him, the idea that they had both overlooked because it couldn't be true, it was impossible.
"He's dead," said Lily flatly, voicing James' idea. "You said he was afraid. Well, whatever went wrong, went wrong badly. Killed him."
"Can't be."
"Must be."
"Then Sirius will kill Peter."
"If the Ministry doesn't find him first…oh James, I wish we could warn him."
But James was still a step behind. Voldemort, dead? Just like that? Surely the whole idea of Voldemort was that he didn't die. James closed his eyes again, and this time he directed his thoughts to Voldemort. But all he saw was
Harry, who is cradled safely in Hagrid's arms as the motorcycle roars over a vast expanse of water. James tries to concentrate harder, Voldemort Voldemort Voldemort, but the scene seems to answer him with an echo in his head, Harry Harry Harry. Strange. And a little disturbing. He decides not to tell Lily just now. Probably nothing will come of it.
After that, James was inclined to watch Sirius' furious chase after Peter. Lily did too, for a while, but soon she returned to Harry. Harry on the doorstep, being held at arm's length by first Petunia and then Vernon Dursley, being spit up on by Dudley. She watched Harry until the Dursleys went to bed, and even after that.
Harry is waving his little fists in the air. She is watching him. She could watch him forever.
They both hear the footsteps in the hall, and look to the doorway. It's Petunia, in her dressing gown. Tuney. Her eyes are wide and scared, and Lily knows at once that whatever Tuney is doing, it's secret.
Lily watches her sister tiptoe in and pick up Harry in his bundle of blankets. She doesn't hold him out in front of her now but cradles him in her arms and rocks him slowly back and forth. And then suddenly she's crying, long silent sobs, and whispering, "Lily, Lily, Lily…"
I'm right here, I'm okay, don't cry. Lily can't say it, but she stays with Harry and Tuney until morning.
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