So. I know, it's been a while since I've written anything, a while longer since I promised you guys I would update my other story, but life seems to keep getting in the way, and I just couldn't gather inspiration from anywhere. But today, as I was listening to 'Blue' by Beyonce, I suddenly gathered enough inspiration to write this. So I did. I'm not really sure if anyone will be interested in reading this, but if you do, I apologize in advance.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. This is probably the first thing I've written in a while, almost a year, and I'm quite proud of it, too.

Lily remembers, quite clearly, the day Harry was born.

The world was glowing gold as the promise of a new day rose on the horizon, the stars blinking their goodbye as one of their own was being bundled up in a whirl of blue, his parents staring with stars in their eyes and watery smiles from afar.

He's so small, is the first thing Lily remembers thinking when she sees him, like fine porcelain, she remembers comparing him to, soft and fragile and Lily had been scared, so scared, when the nurse had held him out for her to take.

"What if I break him?" Lily had asked, unsure and tentative and the nurse had laughed, not unkindly, sharing a look with James over her head, before sending her a reassuring smile.

"You won't," she had said, before carefully placing the small bundle of blue in her tired arms, and she held her breath, cradling him against her chest.

She remembers the immense sense of happiness, pure happiness she had felt as he had been placed in her awaiting arms, so small and delicate, his small, bleary eyes staring unblinkingly at his parents, remembers the warm presence of James pressed against her side as he had cooed down at their son, his laugh wet as he had reached a finger down, their son's tiny, blue fists, automatically curling around his finger.

"Look at him, Lil, he's beautiful," James had whispered, his voice as in awe as Lily had felt.

"He is," Lily had agreed, because he was beautiful, absolutely beautiful and completely theirs, a tiny fragment of both Lily and James, a fair reminder of just how much they loved one another.

"Have you thought of a name?" the nurse had asked.

"Harry," Lily had answered automatically, because it was perfect and it fit him, somehow.

James had laughed, his lips pressing against her sweaty, tousled hair. "Yeah. Little Harry James Potter."

Everything had been so new and foreign back then and Lily had lost herself in the novelty of it all, of being a new parent and learning how to care for a small being. It had been easier at the hospital, where she had been surrounded by nurses willing to lend an aiding hand and Lily was almost fairly certain she could do it.

It wasn't until the first day after they had been allowed to take Harry home, that the insecurities had set in and Lily remembers how scared she had been as they had placed Harry in the crib for him to sleep, the moon glowing bright just outside of his window, because it had all seemed so real, she was a mother now and what if she wasn't a good one, what if she did something wrong, what if she was a total fuck up, what if he hated her, what then, James?

James had smiled, soft and fond as he had hooked his chin over Lily's shoulder, both of them looking down as their son fought against sleep, his tiny chest heaving with every breath he took, the soft music of the star mobile hanging over him lulling him to sleep.

"You won't, Lil," he had reassured her. "You're going to be a perfect mother."

"How do you know?" she had asked, because James didn't know that, he didn't.

"Because, I just do. You're the Lily Evans. There's nothing you can't do. Besides, I'll be with you every step of the way," James had said, pressing a kiss to the skin behind her ear, his arms wrapping around her middle as Harry's eyes fluttered close. "If you fuck up, I fuck up. We're in this together, Lil."

"But what if it isn't enough, James? What if after everything we've done, all the precautions we're taking, it's not enough? What if he finds us?" Lily had asked, voice soft and so, so small, finally voicing what was really troubling her all along.

James had pulled her closer to his chest, his grip tightening around her and she couldn't help but feel herself relax, just the teensiest bit.

"Nothing is ever going to happen to either one of you as long as I live," James had said, whispered it into her skin, a promise that was meant just for her and their son and Lily had almost chastised him for making promises he couldn't keep, but she hadn't.

She had let herself be comforted instead, had let James hold her as they both stared at their son sleeping peacefully, his hands curling into tiny fists above his head, trusting his parents to look over him while he slept.

Lily had felt safe in James' arms, had felt the happiest she had in months, had felt as if anything was possible, as if she was capable of anything because she had James and Harry with her, her family was complete and they were all safe and together, and wasn't that all that mattered?

She tries to hold onto that feeling now, as she stands in the middle of her son's room, staring defiantly at the wizard before her, her chest heaving as she refuses to move, even after he has promised to spare her life for his.

She's completely wandless and she knows she doesn't stand a chance against him, knows that death is inevitable and that in a few moments, she'll be joining her husband in the afterlife, but she pushes those thoughts away, pushes them into the dark corners of her mind as she allows the feeling of comfort and love, pure, innocent love she had felt that day, surrounded by her tiny family wash over her.

She doesn't know if it'll work, doesn't know if her sacrifice will be enough to spare her son's life, to alter the path of Fate, but she hopes so. Gods, does she hope so.

(("You know, I reckon old Dumbledore is right," James had said after a moment, his warm breath caressing the side of her face as they both stared down at their sleeping son. "We do have something Voldemort doesn't, something more powerful than any Dark Magic he can ever dream of."

"And what is that, pray I ask?"

"Love. It's the most powerful thing in the world. It's what my mother always used to say."

"You think so?" she had asked, reaching down to place her finger atop of her son's tiny, pink fists, and James had smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I hope so."))

Thank you so much for reading this, guys. As always, reviews are appreciated.

And I do solemnly promise to update my other story as soon as possible! It's currently undergoing a few changes, but I promise I'll update a new chapter (and the updates) soon!

-TheGreyLadyy