As always - all is property of the great J.K. Rowling


The day was cold and dreary. A sense of horrible foreboding seemed to hang over the day. Shadows lurked around every turn, and half of them seemed full of dementors and Death Eaters. Lily kept her cloak drawn tight, one hand on her wand as she made her way down the perfectly Muggle street.

Constant vigilance.

She took the idea to heart. It had saved her once already, though it had been her own stupidity that got her into that situation in the first place. She shook her head to banish the thoughts as she approached a cluster of solemn people all dressed in black. The funeral was quiet except for one rather loud voice.

Lily slipped through the modest crowd, approaching her parents' coffins. Her throat tightened with the urge to cry. She felt the tears on her cheeks, though she pretended they weren't there. She forgot about vigilance, touching the light wood grain of the nearest coffin. Her heart ached. So many were dying. At least this was a Muggle death—a simple car crash. Lily was sick with guilt for feeling relieved that her parents couldn't be touched by the horrors within her world.

"Evans." That voice! She jumped a foot, whirling around to find James Potter standing behind her. Blood drained from her face.

"Potter?" She managed, eyes darting over him rather greedily. It had been weeks since she'd seen him last. Since she'd left him broken-hearted in the finality of their break up. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard what happened." He answered softly, eyes soft with the same love that had been ever-present during the year they dated. "Are you—"

"I'm fine, Potter!" She couldn't handle him being here. Did he not understand how hard it had been to walk away? Did he know how easy it would be for her to fall back into his arms? There was no room for love in the middle of a war!

"Merlin, Evans." James hissed, face darkening with irritation. "Am I not allowed to express sympathy?" It took her aback—took her right back to their constant fights at Hogwarts. The heated passion that finally brought them together.

"I-I…" What was she trying to say? Reality pressed down on her, and suddenly she could do nothing but cry. Death suffocated her. It pressed down on her from all sides, stealing her breath and crippling her soul.

James stepped closer, cupping his hands around her face; smoothing away her tears. Loving her despite it all.

"What are you doing to me, James?" She whispered hoarsely, wanting to kiss him. Wanting to marry him. Was it too late to change her answer? He'd been so devastated when she refused him the first time. Would he ever trust her enough to try again? Did she even want him to?

She was in his arms, clinging to him. She'd missed this. She'd run from him and thrown herself into the Order without a backward glance, resurfacing just long enough to learn of her parents' death. She'd go right back to it after this funeral. Fatigue weighed down on her. James whispered sweet nothings in her ears, hands moving in familiar patterns across her back.

Enough, Evans. She snapped at herself, gathering every bit of strength she possessed to pull back. She met James' eyes only briefly before looking across the gathering for her sister. Petunia was snug beneath the arm of the man she'd married a few months ago. She was smiling lovingly up at him. It was a small relief. Petunia had someone to help her through this tragedy. Lily had no one. She'd run off the only man who'd ever truly loved her.

She couldn't even look at him. Lily strode off for the woods, pulling up the hood of her cloak as she went. She would mourn her parents quietly. They would understand that she was needed elsewhere.

And James… She cried still beneath the safety of her hood. She loved that man. She'd loved him for almost a year. She'd just been too stupid to realize it soon enough. It was much, much too late to turn back now.

There was only death left; waiting to take her into its grasp.