A/N: Here it is the last chapter

...or is it? Ok, so I lied, I HAVE written an epilogue this time - and it will be published tomorrow. Hopefully. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the content referenced/quoted. Warning for swearing

...

The End

There's a deep rumbling. Em groans as the sound grows fainter and fainter.

Her head is killing her. She blinks, the dim light sparking stabbing pains behind her eye sockets. Someone is screaming. She winces, tries to open her eyes again, pushing through the pain. Where is she again? She's not sure. It's mostly dark but there's a faint light somewhere near her. The rumbling falls quiet, a heavy silence weighing down on her.

Em tries to move. Her fingers twitch, her arms shifting slightly, but her leg is stuck. She pulls, and something begins to shift above her, so she pulls harder, moving her arms to scrabble through the debris that is settled on her. Finally, it moves and Em gulps in the fresher air. Her leg wriggles free. The screaming grows louder. She looks around. Dirt and debris are scattered everywhere, the remains of a house, a loving home, reduced to rubble. She feels like she might puke.

Em is covered in bits of broken planks, plaster and plastic. With a wince, she pushes them away, slowly sitting up. Half of the stairway is gone, the hallway destroyed, although the living room behind her still partially stands.

She tries to remember the last thing that happened. A few blurry images pass by her, the journey to Sirius, his panic and fury, the quaint village until -

Em scrambles onto her knees, gaze searching the debris for any sign of life. For anything that could be human. The ceiling is gone, a giant hole above her reveals that the roof must have caved in. She swallows a sob as she begins to dig, pushing away the thought of Lily standing on the top step.

A loud cry draws her attention to the destroyed stairs. Harry. Harry is crying. A bittersweet relief settles over her. If Harry is crying that means he's safe, but if Harry is crying and no one is going to him-

She stops the thought in its tracks.

"J-James? Sirius?"

She pushes through more rubble, her movement becoming more frantic. It's as she shoves aside a large piece of plaster, she sees it. A limp hand, clutching a broken wand. A stained sneaker lies not far from it.

"James! Sirius!"

Em rushes forward, digging, daring not to hope as she removes more wood and plaster and broken furniture, and wishing she had a wand because this would make everything so much easier. Harry's piercing cries soundtrack her movements. Then she sees James, his face bloodied and bruised, but breathing, alive.

She tries to shake him awake, but he does not respond.

"James. James, you've got to wake, please mate," she shakes him again. "James Potter, move goddamnit your child is crying! James!"

There's a groan to her left. Something shifts under the rubble, and Em is suddenly alert. She moves from James - still breathing, still alive - and towards the shape. Suddenly, a head of black hair pokes out from underneath a broken plank. Sirius blinks at Em, his face caked in dirt and bruised purple, his hair standing up in different directions, and then she's rushing forward and wrapping her arms around him. She can't stop herself from sobbing.

"Em?" Sirius' voice is coarse, "Em, what-?"

The man stills and his hold around her tightens, she tries not to wince at the pain.

"James? Lily? H-Harry?"

"I think I can hear Harry. James…" Em looks towards the other man, still covered in rubble. Sirius follows her gaze.

"Is he...is he ok?"

"He's breathing, I don't know much beyond that."

Sirius' breath leaves him in a big whoosh of air.

"...what about Lily?"

She glances towards the ceiling, where an upset and possibly injured Harry resides. The thought twists her stomach unpleasantly, "I don't know."

Sirius' face hardens. He says nothing and instead moves towards James, crawling across the debris. His gait is slow, sluggish and his left leg drags behind his right. He reaches his friend with a groan of pain, and waves his wand over the man, muttering under his breath. Em approaches slowly, pain stabbing behind her eyeballs. She can feel something sticky at the nape of her neck. She tries not to think about it.

"Is he ok?"

Sirius looks up, "He'll be fine. Nothing St Mungo's can't fix. He'll live."

And if his smile is a little strained, neither of them remark on it.

"I should probably check on Harry," he says after a moment.

Em nods as the man pulls himself up onto his feet. He winces, and she notices his teeth grit with the pain. Sirius pulls himself up onto the destroyed staircase and she rests against what's left of the railing. His steps grow fainter, and her eyes begin to droop. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad for her to take a short nap. Just enough to get her energy back to get them out of here.

...

When Em next wakes, she can feel herself rocking. As if she was back on one of those fishing boats her father used to take her out on when she was wee. The gentle tug and push are enough to send her back to sleep, but she fights off the tiredness and pushes through the sluggishness.

Whispers break through the silence. Awareness comes back to her slowly, her fingers twitch, and the pain in her arms flare. She moans.

"Looks like Em is back with us," a deep voice says.

She blinks open one eye, then the other. Black hair fills her vision, and it takes her moment to realise the rocking comes from being carried. Sirius is giving her a piggy-back. She swivels her head to see - James, limping alongside them, a sleeping Harry in his arms. Both are covered in dirt, clothes torn; Harry's face is tearstained while James' face is as dark as an oncoming storm. It takes that one look for her to know and her heart breaks.

"James."

"Em, how're you feeling?"

"Sore."

She looks around, takes stock of their surroundings. Gone are the quaint little cottages and in their place is a forest that stretches out into the darkness. Tall trees line the path they're treading, "Where are we going?"

"We've not got enough in us to apparate, we didn't want to risk splinching you both by accident," James explains, carefully shifting Harry in his arms. He's calm, too calm and it scares her, "Thought we'd walk to the nearest portkey point."

Sirius says nothing. His hold on her is tense, and she can feel his body vibrating beneath her. He's angry.

"Why not…" she coughs. "Why not ask for help at one of the nearby houses?"

The two men exchange a quick look.

"We're not sure if we can…"

And Godric help her, she knows that look. The boys didn't know who to trust, better to get all of them out there as soon as possible rather than linger. She sighs.

"How far?"

"Just around this corner," James explains as they come to the end of the path. "I'll just jump on ahead and bring it back. Keep an eye on him, Em."

James whispers to his son as he limps behind two fallen trees, disappearing from view. Silence falls.

"Sirius."

"I tried to leave to find Peter," he chokes out the name like it's poison. "I was going to gut the rat, hang him by his entrails for all to see so that they would know what kind of a traitor he was. James stopped me."

Em's eyes widen.

"I thought I was being clever, ha, no one would ever suspect Peter of being their Secret Keeper," Sirius laughs mirthlessly, his grasp on her tightening. "He betrayed us all. It's all my fault."

Em says nothing. She'd seen them in the aftermath of the war. It was easy to forget the darkness that crept in after they came down from their highs. How many nights had she spent patching these boys up? Gathering their broken pieces and stitching them together and reminding them why they fought. How many times had she held Harry on nights when the moon hung in the sky like a broken toenail, when James, Remus and Sirius' comrades had fallen, Dorcas, Gideon, Fabian, Caradoc, Benjy, Marlene, trying to remind herself of what they fought for.

It was all for nought in the end. Voldemort was gone, but so was Lily.

James returns moments later, the portkey wrapped in a torn tote bag. Em takes in the tight lines around his eyes, the thin stretch of his smile, the white-knuckled grip on his son.

"Where will this take us then?"

"To Dumbledore's office, hopefully. If I've not got it confused with the St Mungo's one."

Em presses her face into Sirius' hair, as James readies the portkey.

Finally, the portkey is ready. Em braces herself, reaching across Sirius' shoulder towards the innocent-looking textbook, torn and dogeared. As one they reach forward to grasp the book.

There's a sharp tug behind her navel and the world starts spinning like she's riding a demented merry-go-round that refuses to stop. Her stomach tumbles, hot bile rising in her throat as pain flares through her. She can't help but think that wizards need to sort out their methods of transportation because surely there is a much more comfortable way to travel than this incessant twirling and tugging.

The trio comes to a sudden stop, stumbling into an open corridor. Everything stops around them. Em's head is still spinning and she's pretty sure she's about to empty what's left of her stomach contents into Sirius' hair when she hears James topple to his knees beside them. The sound echoes through the corridor, and suddenly someone is screaming, and there are bodies rushing towards them. Her vision spins. Lime-green witches are racing towards them and Em starts laughing, wondering where the winged monkeys are. Her laughter turns to sobs as she is pulled into Sirius' arms, as the bodies press in closer and James and Harry are whisked away on a levitating stretcher.

...

Remus appears a few hours later. She has been checked over thrice by this point, given at least two dozen chocolate biscuits, and told that she'd hear about James "as soon as possible". Sirius had been herded down another corridor, cursing and flirting with the nurses.

Harry was unsettled but sleeping in James' room; it had taken a good hour to get him to calm down.

Another nurse - a healer Sirius had called them - presses more chocolate digestives and tea into her hand when Remus comes skidding around the corner. She stares at him speechless. He is panting hard, his clothes torn and bandages placed haphazardly across his face. A plump witch is hovering behind him, begging him to "slow down" and "stay still" as she tries to press more bandages onto him.

"I believe there's a visitor for you both, dearie," the kindly witch beside her takes the cup of tea out of her hand.

Em stands shakily. Remus' frantic gaze lands on her. Then he is running, skidding towards her, until he is crashing into her. They topple to the ground, falling to their knees. His grip is tight around them both as if she might float away if he doesn't hold on tightly enough.

"Em, Em, Em," his words whispered into her hair. His hands press into her, patting down her shoulders, her sides, gripping her hands, "Are you ok? What happened? Where's Sirius? James? And Harry? Is Harry ok? Oh Merlin, what-"

She grasps his face with her hands, "Remus."

He stops.

"It's ok. I'm ok," he pulls her back into his arms, tucking her head underneath his chin. She grasps him just as tightly, "We're ok."

When he finally releases her, his face is heartbroken and she can see his eyes are red-rimmed, swollen.

"Lily."

Em shakes her head.

"She protected Harry. We're not sure how but she stopped him. She stopped Voldemort."

Remus flinches. Em pretends not to notice.

After a moment, he rises, pulls her up with him. They move towards some nearby chairs, perched outside James' room. If she strains herself to listen, Em can just make out the sound of his snoring beyond the closed door. James is breathing, James is alive.

"Em, what were you doing there?"

Remus' voice draws her attention away from James' door. She hesitates.

"Em."

She looks up, "You told me to go to Sirius if something didn't feel right."

Remus smooths a hand over the bags under her eyes, "You've not been sleeping again. You look awful."

"Speak for yourself," she says.

Remus' lips quirk into a sad grin. Em tucks herself into his side, her smile fading.

"It wasn't enough."

Remus sighs, "Em…"

"I knew something wasn't right and it still wasn't enough," she whispers. "My friend died while I lay unconscious buried under rubble unable to do anything with these stupid magicless hands."

A sob breaks free from her throat.

"Em," Remus tightens his hold around her. She hiccups into his shoulder.

"What are we going to do?"

"That's an easy question to answer, love. We live," he says quietly. Em looks up at Remus, his warm eyes holding hers determinedly.

"Moony!"

Em turns to see Sirius making his way towards them. A wide grin is spread across his face, despite the sadness lingering in his eyes. She says nothing as Remus stands to greet him, the pair clasping each other in a manly hug. And if she spots Sirius shedding a tear as he whispers apologies to his friend, she would later blame the fact she was recovering from a bump on the head.

Next door, James continues to snore. The man is devastated, heartbroken, but he's alive. She turns to look out the window where the usual hustle of life continues. She knows the wizards will be celebrating, praising Lily Potter for defeating the Dark Lord, for they are now finally free. As they set off their shooting stars and down their firewhiskey, they'll be unaware of the small muggle who saved a wizard. Em presses her head against the cool glass.

This time Harry will live. They all will.