Realization
The badger Patronus materialized at the kitchen window at 5:07 pm. Lily Potter is peeling potatoes the mundane way, with a paring knife, while magically dicing carrots, onions, celery, and red peppers into a stock pot behind her. A slip, and a muttered curse. She locks eyes with the badger, who, upon recognizing her, stands up on its hind legs.
"Meadows' estate." A flash of silver and a growling voice she recognizes from many previous messages and the badger is gone.
Lily flicks her wand, throwing a Stasis charm on the stew she had been working on, and spins to grab her cloak, shouting for her husband as she does. Another muttered curse as the slice in her finger twinges, while the clattering above her lets her know that her Auror Trainee husband is stumbling into his fighting clothes. A quick charm to close the cut on her finger, and she dashes to the front door, stepping into heavy Muggle steel-toed boots, charming the laces tied and stuck shut with a locking charm so that they will not trip her.
The old wind up analog clock reads 5:09 pm and James is beside her, outfitted in a dark cloak with as many protective runes, enchantments and charms she can think of, the same cloak she wears, the same cloak she created for Sirius, Remus and Peter, too. They lock eyes, both doing a once over of the other, a rule she instigated when they left the house to a raid missing vital pieces of the "fighting gear" she had created for them all to carry. Dumbledore, flawless that he thought he was, could not see the benefits of what she had created, so instead it was a Marauder rule. No one went to a raid without their gear if at all possible.
James reaches for her hand at 5:12 pm and together they step out onto the front step, he twists, the world squeezes around her, she stumbles, he tugs her down instinctively, and it begins.
It has been dark for hours, since before Lily started preparing the stew, and she has no idea what time it is. It no longer matters. Time is an illusion. This is not just a raid, this is a full scale attack and they are severely outnumbered. The only thing that matters is the colour of the light being sent towards her and the colour she sends back in return. The heat as a spell passes by her, the heat she can feel through the cloak that should shield her from it. She makes note of the colour, the magic vibrating within that ray of light, and ducks the next, vibrantly green ray that follows close behind it.
She can feel the solid, reassuring heat of the man at her shoulder, her husband, her defender, the love of her life, and the heat of the faithful, loyal man she calls brother at her other shoulder. Two heads of dark hair and one of radiant red move in sync, no side left uncovered, all angles being fired upon.
She has no idea what time it is, but something changes within the atmosphere itself and she instantly feels the dark, slimy feel of the magic in the air. Every single masked, hooded, vile creature that is trying to kill them stops and Disapparates at once, except those who have been contained with a modified charm she did convince Dumbledore to use. Such a powerful wizard, who espouses such love to all, and yet he is loathe to accept anything she offers.
Lily Potter has no idea what time it is, but while the spellfire has stopped, the work has not. Time to begin identifying those who remain, dead or alive, and providing statements to the Aurors who, once again, showed up too late to have been of any help if the Order had not been there.
James Potter is no stranger to the cruelties of war, between the war he is fighting in on top of his Auror training, but he is the first one to admit how unprepared the Wizarding world is for such things. His wife-his wife!-was a genius. Boots with steel toes, to kick debris and Death Eaters alike. Cloaks with protective enchantments, scarves to simultaneously hide their faces and filter the smoke that so often accompanied these raids. Little bags with potions and snacks for after the fight.
He can hear her voice in his head, explaining the dry, tasteless granola bars he has come to simultaneously love and hate.
"James, magic uses energy, and so does healing. You can't do either without energy, and you can't have energy without food."
He hates this part. Unwrapping the dry granola bar, he opens his mouth and allows Auguamenti to splash all over his face, the cool water soothing his cheeks, burnt from the heat of the Meadows' estate burning to the ground or spellfire, he can never quite tell. It washes the grime away from several small nicks, and the blood from the front of his cloak. Not his blood. Just blood. He pulls the notepad from an interior pocket, clips his badge to his lapel, and shakes his head, similar to the way his friend does, only he is not a dog at the moment.
The Incarcerous charm, coupled with the modified Disapparation charm, makes it easy to take statements and identify the dirty Death Eaters they caught, until he sees something that makes his blood churn. Lily, in all her flaming, beautiful glory, is shaking with rage and in conversation with a man he doesn't recognize. He marches toward her, pausing slightly as the conversation obviously comes to a halt, and Lily points her wand at him, a look in her eyes he can't quite place. Merlin, she's beautiful.
"Mudblood."
It's just a hiss, quiet and so spiteful, and Lily twitches her wand, precisely, deftly, and the man's head falls to the side unnaturally.
It is 2:03 am, November 29, 1979, and James Potter realizes, without a doubt, that his beautiful, smart, fierce wife is not afraid to kill. He realizes that out of their entire group, she is the one most likely to survive this Merlin-damned war. James Potter realizes, and wonders how many more times he will realize, that he loves this woman, and the future terrifies him.
It is 2:01 am, and Lily Marigold Evans Potter is told that she is pregnant, is told that she will be killed, is told that she can never hide from the evil creature who leads this charge against her and others like her. Lily Potter is called a Mudblood, and Lily Potter snaps the neck of the strange man who told her those things without a second thought. At 2:03 am, Lily Potter realizes what this war will cost her; her life, her husband, her family, but she will not allow it to cost her her child, and Lily Potter realizes that she will kill again.