THREE TIMES

A/n: This is a little story I wrote for my friend Asia's birthday, it's dedicated to her. There are characters from Harry Potter and a bit of speech from The Princess Bride in the second flashback, I own nothing except the midwives. There is a bit taken from Kurt Cobain's suicide note as well at the end, which I have adapted to suit my own means. I don't own Kurt Cobain either. So yeah… this is my first EVER angst story, it's set just before Lily's death and just after James' and has little flashbacks, please review and be nice. Thank you.

I see the flash of light under the door, it is so bright that it lights the whole room. Green, all around me, green, your last light. It's supposed to be the color of life, yet it will be the last thing that you see. I sink to my knees, unable to believe, unwilling. None of this seems real and maybe it still isn't. But I'm kneeling behind the crib, with Harry in my arms, and together we wait for the end.

He is sleeping peacefully, like you were last night, in blissful unawareness. I'll kiss him twice before it happens, once from me, once from you. Our son, I promise I wont let anything happen to him.

It was such a bright day, the sun reflecting off the hundreds of castle windows and the lake, where several girls of varying ages and degrees of undress were dabbling their toes. They were watched or joined by little groups of boys and all around them grew a crescendo of hysteria, as the whole school poured out on to the grass to celebrate the end of exams.

A gathering of five 7th years sat together, separated from the rest of the school by a large oak tree, supremely unconcerned about anything, and now, after weeks of revising, utterly relaxed.

"Cheat!" Peter crowed triumphantly.

"No I didn't." Sirius flicked his fringe out of his eyes. It had grown even more in the last month, he really should cut it, but then long hair had a certain… je ne sais pas about it, and he knew that if he still lived at home, it would be the sort of style she would hate.

"You did, you must have done."

"I swear on my mother…" He opened his eyes wide, aiming for a look of complete innocence.

James laughed. "On his mother? That settles it really doesn't it? He cheated."

Sirius scowled turning over the two cards he had just put down "Oh did I say three aces? I meant two sevens." He turned over the third card "And that five, obviously."

James smirked "Two queens." He said, continuing the game.

"Speaking of queens," Remus hissed as he took his go, "Have we all seen a certain someone and his new hair cut?"

"What, Snivelly?"

"That's the one."

"What's it like?" Peter asked, squinting round trying to make out Snape in the mass of students around him.

Sirius took advantage of everyone's diverted attention to mutter "One king." And sneak five cards on to the pile.

"Its hilarious. I cut it while I was sitting behind him in the exam."

Sirius snorted. "You didn't? Prongs my darling, you are a fucking genius."

"And you are wildly unsubtle." James held up the cards Sirius had put down. "Where's the king in there?"

Leaning back against the tree Lily smiled as she listened to them. She'd been going out with James for a year now, and now that she knew him better, it was actually quite endearing how he tried to keep his dislike of Snape secret from her. He turned now and gave her a reassuring smile, as if all their conversation was completely inaudible, and she hadn't noticed his Severing charm hit the back of Snapes head. Which she had. In fact, she had had a several minute laughing fit under the cover of a curtain of red hair. She returned the smile, keeping her eyes innocent as possible, with far more success than Sirius had had. James took this as an invitation to come and join her. He threw down his remaining cards on to the pile saying carelessly "Two queens, six fours and a two, I don't know," (which was met with a resounding "CHEAT!" from the other three boys) and crawled over to her. He put his chin on her shoulder and gently nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

"How's life?" he mumbled into her hair.

"Fantastic."

"Good." He pulled back from her and scrutinized her face "I love you."

The first time he ever said it.

I remember how you used to chase me down corridors; you wanted to go out with me so much. Sweet, I thought, but childish, a boyish fantasy, you'll get over it. Thank the lord you never did.

I can hear Him, in our hall, coming up the stairs, pushing, stamping, and breaking things as He comes. There's no need to search though. He knows I couldn't leave you even now. It's an intimidation process. There's no need for it at all. I know I'm unprotected without you. He's already hurt me more than anyone can tell, more than even I can tell.

Harry can sense him in his sleep I'm sure. He whines now, but he seems to be scared to make too much noise. It doesn't matter; The Dark Lord knows exactly where we are. And we know where He is; it's fairer this way. But it isn't fair at all, He can leave whenever He wants, but for me, for Harry, there is no escaping now.

"Well, this is it." James whispered. He glanced nervously at the velvet curtain that separated them from the rest of the church. "In half an hour we'll be married."

Lily nodded. She did not dare speak, her throat was too tight with nerves and her heart was tap-dancing on her voice box. She could feel James' hand as it fingered the beading on her waist.

"No second thoughts?" he said in a would-be casual voice.

"No, none."

"No going back?"

"No going back."

He smiled at that and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up. He attempted a nervous laugh "Well, that's a relief." He gazed distractedly at her and opened his mouth to say more "Lily-"

But at that moment Sirius' head popped through the curtain. "All set?" he asked, grinning amiably.

James returned the grin. "Just about I think."

"Sirius nodded. "When you're ready then."

He disappeared in a swish of fabric.

"Lily," James began again.

"James," she wanted to tell him everything she had ever felt for him, all the extremes of her feelings, how he frustrated her, brought her to tears sometimes, how she wished she could rip out his sticky up hair, smash his glasses and punch away the smug look on his face, and yet how none of this mattered because no matter how much he did this to her he made her so incredibly, thoroughly, euphorically happy with every moment of his presence, of his laughter, flick of his hair, every sentence, word, syllable, every glance in her direction, now as he had done since she had met him nine years ago. And how she now found herself so frustratingly, hopelessly in love with him.

The words stuck in her throat. She could not tell him. She had not the words for it, nor the time. She felt his arm tighten round her. He drew back the curtain. She could see the whole congregation of familiar smiling faces, all waiting for them. He looked down at her. And she realized that he was about to sum up in four words what she would need several books to tell him. He beamed at her and whispered, "Lily, I love you."

He's on the landing so close now but He's making a great show of going into every room, although it must be obvious where we are, ours is the only shut room, and no one would hide from Him with out some barrier between them. It's only a matter of time now. I can hear Him coming, I can feel Him. He has a presence before even entering the room. He is quiet now. He's going to surprise us. He is untraceable, I have no idea where He is, He could be outside the door this very moment. All I know is that He is near and my end comes closer with him. Any second now He will smash down the door. He will break in and crush and destroy everything that you and I have worked for. But not Harry, I swear to you now, that what ever I can do to prevent Him from getting Harry I will do it. And perhaps I will see you again.

Pain, so much pain ripping through her body at once, setting her spine on fire. Her back arched off the bed, entirely of its own accord, as another spasm shook her. She screamed. The three elderly midwives gathered at the end of the bed like Macbeth's witches around a cauldron ceased their muttering to stare at her through large pearly glasses, as if noticing her for the first time.

"Not long now, dear." Said the tallest, or at least, the less stooped over one, whose glassy grey eyes had not blinked in all the time she had been there.

Someone squeezed Lily's left hand encouragingly, as the midwives resumed there muttering over her toes, and she remembered with a start that James was still there holding her hand, and had been for some four hours now, squeamishly staying as far from her splayed legs as possible and whimpering quietly as she dug her nails deeper into his skin with each wave of contractions. She had drawn blood twice already this way, and he hadn't bothered to heal it. "A nice scar to show our grandchildren" he had said, wiping the blood on the stained sheets gathered around her waist.

Now Lily was beginning to wonder whether she would ever get to the grandchildren stage. It felt to her as though time itself had stopped, and she was to be eternally in labor. It was a burning summers day, the grass they should have been able to see out of the window were the curtains not drawn was brunt brown, James' cheeks were flushed, his hair stuck to his forehead drenched with sweat from being shut in this stifling room. Lily could only imagine how much worse she looked. Yet what ever her state was, he still squeezed her hand back and smiled encouragingly at her. After four hours of this they had found themselves pretty much beyond speech. And so Lily settled herself once more to await another bout of pain.

The roundest, most wizened of the witches, who to Lily bore a startling resemblance to an unripe walnut, pale yellow and very wrinkled, lefty the group and approached Lily's stomach, whereupon she stuck out the boniest finger Lily had ever seen and prodded her with the most undignified prod Lily had ever received. Then she stepped back and hummed for a while before turning back to her two cronies, poised like harpies over Lily's feet, and spoke for the first time.

"We have the body"

The soft musicality of her voice surprised both Lily and James, Who both said, "Pardon?" Whilst the other's voices had been harshened with age this woman voice was as smooth and quiet as a very sleepy three year old.

She seemed to ignore the expectant parents yet repeated herself anyway. "We have the body. We have a fine child inside. Bring me soap and water to disinfect my hands." Lily was startled; this was the first coherent or sensible thing any of these women had said all day. The woman turned to her, "Please relax. We shall alert you presently." And with that she bent over Lily smothering her in scent and warmth and comfort. Lily slept.

And then she stirred. The room was cooler now, it no longer stunk of sweat and God knows what else. There was a sheet over her still, but a clean crisp one. The pillows had been adjusted behind her. She opened her eyes. James sat beside her, grinning all over his face, and she knew instantly that everything was alright. Hardly controlling her excitement she looked down at the baby in her arms.

He was small, red and wrinkled as if he had been in a too hot bath for several hours. His mouth was a tiny sulky pout and his hands clenched in to fists and unclenched again. She raised her hand and stroked his head and its soft dusting of dark hair. He stirred and tensed at her touch. His mouth opened and his face crumpled, but where Lily had been expecting a cry came only something like a polite cough.

She smiled and looked at James. He was still gazing at her with a look of utmost adoration on his face, and finally, it was a look she could return. He leant towards the two of them, curled together on the bed and his hand joined hers on top of their son's head.

"He's perfect James, look at him isn't he beautiful? Our little boy, I don't want him to sleep in his room tonight, can he stay in here with us? What should we call him? We can't call him baby all the time, that might give people the wrong idea, especially when he's grown up. I don't want him to grow up either, I want him to stay like this forever and-"

"Ssh. You're hysterical. Shh." Pause. "I love you."

It's happening at last. No more games with us, He is outside the door, and I know as well as He does that He cannot wait much longer. I meant to go on with this, I thought a year ago that I would have an eternity with you, but our forever has run its course. This is the end for both of us because the will of one man would wish it so. I realise now that there's not good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad that anyone can do this to a person. I don't know! I had a god of a husband who sweated ambition and empathy and a son who reminds me too much of what we used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person he meets because everyone is good and will do him no harm. And that terrifies me to the point where I can barely function. I can't stand the thought of Harry becoming the sort of person that we have to be today to survive, having our sort of life. I had it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of eleven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general, except one, you. Only because it seems so easy for some people to get along and have empathy, when with people like Him, it isn't. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much, like Harry. Thank you James from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your concern during the past years. I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out then to fade away.

You wouldn't go on without me, so I cant without you. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU