Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, neither are any characters in this story that hae anything to do with him and this story.

Empty. She felt empty. So empty.

Bare, blank, devoid, stark, vacant, void, barren, hollow, abandoned, forsaken, depleted, meaningless, worthless. Empty. That was how she felt.

It was definitely not a pleasant feeling.

He was gone. Dead. Right before her eyes, lying there.

His killer was standing over him, watching her.

He had told her to run, right before he died, take their son and run.

With a maniac, a Dark Lord maniac, watching, she ran. Harry still in her arms she ran to their bedroom. But it wasn't theirs anymore, now with him gone, there was no them.

James was dead. Her husband dead, and his killer was now after her. Who wouldn't feel empty?

She begged with him not to kill Harry. Just kill her, Harry hadn't ever done anything to him.

He killed her. Shot the spell right at her, and the last thing she thought was how empty she felt, and if Harry did manage to live, she just hoped he never had to feel this way himself.

She hoped he never felt... empty.

That's it. It took me five minutes, and I got the inspiration from looking at my joint account with my friend and how if you have no favorite stories (which we don't) it says empty. Empty. So I went online and found as many synonyms as I could and wrote this story. And I hope you enjoyed it.