Bitter Sweet

AlwaysPadfoot

JAMES

20TH SEPTEMBER

When the Healer shook her head at that last appointment I didn't speak.

My mum did that thing where she cried big gross tears and I ended up being the one comforting her, whilst my head buzzed. It was all supposed to be gone. This was supposed to be a check-up, but instead it was a death sentence. Two months, the Healer told us; at the very most.

The cancer had taken hold of my magical core. I didn't care to listen to the science behind it all, but the symptoms the Healer mentioned were enough to put me off. He wanted to see me again in a week; I did not want to see him, but for the sake of my mum I didn't mention that. If I'd got less than two months then I wasn't going to spend it flitting back and forth to St Mungo's. I was going to spend it with my mum, and with Lily.

I hadn't figured out how to tell Lily yet, but if I told her before we went to France she'd force me to stay.

I resolved to tell her later.

LILY

2ND OCTOBER

The Genies - who were making my wish to go to Paris come true - decided on Muggle transport. Apparently, magical transport could damage the effect of the potions that were stopping the tumours in my lungs from growing. Better safe than sorry, they told me.

James was quiet in the airport. When I'd arrived at his house this morning I could have sworn him and his mum were arguing, but I didn't question it. I was unsurprised to learn he'd never flown in an aeroplane before. During takeoff, my hand went numb he was holding on so tight and I had to calm him down by rubbing circles on his arm and distracting him with Quidditch. He did get a little irate when we went through a patch of turbulence, but that was to be expected.

"It's beautiful," I told him when we reached the hotel room that had been booked for us.

He made me sit down on the bed because all the excitement had got me breathless. James leant his forehead against mine.

"I love you."

JAMES

9TH OCTOBER

As expected, when I finally told Lily what happened in the Healer's appointment, she was understandably angry.

"Why James? Why did you come here if you're sick?" she demanded, but before I could answer she continued ranting. "You weren't supposed to get sick again. You were given the all clear."

"I know," I whispered. "Please sit down, I don't want you to get sick."

"I'm already sick, James." Lily snapped. "I'm dying too remember?"

Her face was wet with tears and she slumped down on a bench, looking out across the River Seine. Thankfully, she was trying to force herself to calm down. I rubbed her shoulders, my eyes all watery as I leant down to kiss the top of her head.

"I'm sorry." I breathed. "The scan my Healer did lit up like a Christmas tree."

I moved around the bench, sitting beside her and taking her hands in mine. I was supposed to be there for Lily. I wasn't supposed to leave her; I loved her. It was clear: this world had no room for two nineteen year olds with cancer. Love or no love.

"It was supposed to be me," she hiccuped.

LILY

16TH OCTOBER

After we got back from France, I watched James Potter slowly fall apart.

I remember our last good day vividly. It was like our first date back at Hogwarts eighteen months ago. The familiar petrichor of October Hogsmeade weekends filled the air as we stepped onto the main high street of Hogsmeade arm in arm.

Neither of us could spend our time wandering around any longer so we ended up lying in the park, autumn sunshine beaming down.

We laughed and James tried to show off with some flashy wandless magic, before I told him to knock it off just in case he exhausted himself. The cancer he had was directly attacking his magic so he definitely shouldn't be doing it for no reason.

He held my hand.

And then it rained; a grim reflection of what would eventually come to pass.

JAMES

30TH OCTOBER

I only remembered being exhausted when I woke up in St Mungo's late in October.

Lily had been there before I came in and I remembered telling her not to call the Healers, but she did anyway. I didn't want to die in this hospital and I thought that night was going to be my last.

I sat up too fast and my head spun. Almost instantly, my Mum appeared at my side moving the pillows so that I could lie back comfortably. Her eyes were wet with tears and if anyone could pull off relief and devastation in one facial expression, it was her.

She cupped a small hand to my face.

"Hey Jamie," she whispered. "We thought we'd lost you for a while. I'm so relieved."

It only broke my heart to see her so happy. Yes, I was still alive, but some day soon I wasn't going to wake up. I took her hands and held them tight.

"I'm still here." I replied. "Is Lily okay?"

My mum nodded. "She's fine. I sent her home honey. She needed to sleep."

LILY

6TH NOVEMBER

James Charlus Potter died on November 6th.

I heard the rush of Floo and the hushed voices from my room along the hallway. It fell quiet and some part of me thought, for just a moment, that it hadn't been what I thought it was, until I heard footsteps outside.

A beam of dim light appeared on the wall.

"Lily?" a hushed voice said.

I could tell just from the tone of my dad's voice; he simply confirmed my fear. I choked back a sob. There was nothing I could have done to prepare for this moment. I felt a hand on my back and I sat up, my arms behind my head as I leant forward. I couldn't breathe. Every noise that I made sounded inhuman. Dad cradled me as I cried into his chest, my shoulders heaving every time I had to catch my breath.

"I'm sorry, Lily. I really am."

He could be as sorry as he wanted, but that wasn't going to bring James Potter back. Nothing was ever going to bring him back.