A/N: The last 5 things I've written were not Harry Potter fanfics. This was to save my sanity.
Things are bad when she gets there, and they keep getting worse. They underestimated how many Death Eaters would be coming, how many muggles there would be, how much the Ministry would help. Now people are dying, and nothing she can do will stop it. She runs through the crowd, grabbing as many innocents as she could and disapperating with them to the graveyard near her old house. She has no clue why she chose that location, except that it's easy to ward so that the poor traumatized muggles don't escape and/or go mad before the Ministry (or, as is more likely now, the Order – the Ministry has made it very clear they won't cooperate with them) comes to wipe their memories and send them home.
He's fighting one of the hardest duels he's ever fought when he sees it. Sees her. With one final spell (one of his own invention that the Dark Lord had commissioned) he knocks the four people – if you could call those who defended such filthy muggles people – to the floor and runs after her. Her red ponytail swings behind her as she runs, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees the clip she has pinned to it. He gave her the little gilded lily years ago.
He's close to her, so close, when she sees them. Crabbe and Goyle are holding back a young muggle couple as Avery taunts them, holding their baby son closer and closer to the bonfire in the middle of what used to be a shopping mall. She goes in with amazing efficiency. Standing off to one side, hoping against hope that he won't be noticed, he watches her, his love shining clear in his eyes. But she pays no attention to him.
A quick jab of her wand, and Avery is off balance. The child comes precariously close to falling in the fire, but a quick swish-and-flick and he's hovering over it. Avery whips out his wand, knowing that she cannot duel him and keep the child afloat. Her mind is whirling faster than a Nimbus 1001 as she flings the baby away from the flames in the general direction of his parents. Then, in one fluid motion, she ties up Avery and forces Crabbe and Goyle to release their prisoners. The mother catches her son, sobbing. The father holds them tight, his eyes wide with fear. A quick pop, and she is at their side. She grabs them and, not even doing her customary are-they-holding-onto-me check, they are in a muggle cemetery.
Not surprisingly, the baby is wailing, the mother is in hysterics, and the father is in shock. She does what she can to help them, but is conscious all the time of the other muggles she could be helping.
"I've got them." A teenage boy, looking astonishingly put together, comes up to them, only to find a wand at his throat.
"Who are you?" she demands. "I never brought you here."
"You did," the boy says calmly. "I was unconscious when you found me."
She peers at the boy, and finds he was right. "Oh. Sorry," she said, stowing her wand. "I'm just a bit paranoid at the moment."
"I don't blame you," the boy says. "I may just be a muggle, but I know what's going on." At her surprised look, he elaborates, "My sister went to Hogwarts. Now get back to the fight. There are people dying. I'll take care of this lot."
She nods, and a moment later she's back in the thick of the battle. HeJeHeHHHH ajsfksjfkj lhjgslkjdkfHe's dueling Potter, and they're both aiming to kill. They see her appear at the same moment, and it's only an instant later that she recognizes both of them.
Automatically, he relaxes in her presence. Potter takes advantage of that, disarming him before he can protest. Laughing, Potter casually points his wand to his throat.
"What shall it be, Snivelly?" he whispers. "Shall I kill you? You deserve it. Or would you prefer Azkaban? I think that might be better for you. The suffering lasts longer there…"
"James!" Her voice jerks them back to reality.
"He deserves it," James said to her. "You know he does."
She nods slowly. "I know, but…can I take care of it?"
A shadow passes over her fiancé's face. "Lily…"
"I know what I'm doing," she says. When he doesn't relent, she adds, "Please, love."
His body stiffens. Love? Since when is Potter her love?
James throws him a look of distaste, then relaxes his stance. "I'll need his wand," she points out. Sighing, he gives it to her. One quick look of loathing, one quick kiss (or so it seems to her – to him, it is far too long, and far too intimate) and it's just them.
Though the battle rages around them, to all intents and purposes they are alone. They are supposed to be enemies, but neither is pointing wands at the other. She leans forward, and his heart stops. She's just grabbing his arm, though, and a quick turn later they're in a graveyard.
"Come," she says softly. Her feet make no sound as she darts to an older part of the graveyard, where there are no hysterical muggles. When he reaches her, she holds out his wand without a word.
"Lily…" he says, then stops. What is there to say? Muggles are lucky, he thinks bitterly. When they meet an old friend years later, they can just say, "How are you? I haven't seen you in FOREVER!" He snorts as he imagines saying that to her now.
Her thoughts are similar. I'm mad, she tells herself. Stark raving mad. What was I thinking, doing this? It's not like we have anything to say to each other.
"Why'd you step in?" he finally blurts out. She seems relieved that he started the conversation, but less than pleased with his topic of choice.
"I don't know," she admits. "Habit, I guess." There's another, even more awkward pause, and then she says in a rush, "I still miss you sometimes."
"I miss you every moment of every day."
"It wouldn't have worked, even without the war. I did love you, Sev, but not like that."
"You're dating Potter, aren't you?"
"We're engaged." Before he can say anything – before he can even think anything – she's saying, "I'm sorry, Sev, truly I am."
"I'll kill him if he hurts you." Even he's surprised at the fervor with which he says this. "Torture him and kill him."
She laughs, but says, "I can take care of myself."
"I can't," he admits in a whisper. "I need you, Lily. I'm no good without you."
She smiles at him, and he can't stop his heart from flip-flopping in his chest. "I'll be here for you, Sev."
"No, you won't. You can't be."
"I will be."
"Really?"
"Always."
He can't stop himself from whispering, "I love you."
"Love you, too."
"But not in that way."
She shakes her head sadly. "I'm sorry." For a moment, they just stare at each other. She sighs gustily and grabs his hand. "C'mon."
She leads him to the very edge of the graveyard. On the other side, they can see confused muggles hoping to enter, but being held back by her spells. She lies down on the grass and beckons for him to join her. He does, a bit confused.
"Can't we just pretend we're kids again?" she asks. They aren't even twenty, but they feel forty-two (or a hundred-and-two). "Please?"
And so for the next hour they lie there, sometimes silent but mainly talking. It doesn't disturb them that they're mainly just reminiscing about things that will never return – after all, they can't exactly ask each other how work's going. So instead they wallow in their childhood, in the times before he was a Slytherin and she a Gryffindor, before even Petunia was a threat to their friendship. For that one hour, they're just Sev and Lils, best friends forever and ever.