Author's Note:

This is probably the last entry for Snapped. Departures covered most of it, and Awakening and Fractions are the only ones that I felt needed their own individual attention.

2019-09-17: I've decided to move this particular story and its sequels to AO3. I use the same username there, Asviloka, and the alternate version will be similar but not exactly identical to this version. The next chapter serves as a rough outline, but I feel this version of the story deserves a bit more detail. I will not delete or remove the current version of them, for historical and personal reasons, but the most up-to-date version will be over on AO3.

Snapped: Fractions

July 31, 1981

They were on the run, but still found time to hold a tiny birthday party for their son. Harry got a cake, though no presents, and a single candle.

Lily sat beside their son as he stared at the flickering, tiny flame, trying to explain to him the concept of blowing it out for good luck. James knew he wasn't helping, grinning and giving Harry contradictory information. But it was too rare these days that they had time for fun, so he would get as much out of it as he could.

Harry sputtered and giggled, the flame dancing away from him but not quite going out. Lily laughed, delighted.

James grinned. "You're blowing too hard, try it really gently and just. . ." he breathed out slowly, then winked at Harry.

Harry tried to imitate his father, and James dissolved into laughter as his breath only made the flame flicker again.

"How about we do it together?" Lily suggested, scooting closer. "On three. One. . . Two. . . Three!"

Harry puffed out his cheeks and blew as hard as he could, and Lily gently puffed on the tiny flame. The candle went out. They all clapped, Harry joining in enthusiastically while James leaned over to cut the cake.

"I'll have you know," James said conspiratorially, "cutting this into thirds isn't as easy as it looks." It was a small cake, but the pieces would be plenty big enough to go around.

Ash drifted across his vision, and James chuckled. "That's a lot of smoke for one little candle," he commented, turning to Lily. "Did Sirius give it—"

Lily's chair was empty, but for a thin pile of ash that dissolved into nothing even as he watched.

He froze, then his fighting instincts kicked in. He had his wand in his hand before he even thought of it, gaze darting around the room for every possible place of concealment, every possible angle of attack. The window blinds and curtains were drawn. The doors were closed.

Harry continued clapping and giggling, a discordant note in James's suddenly empty world. He felt it, then, the ache in his chest, the soul-deep certainty that she wasn't just in the other room or hiding in a closet, she was gone.

"No." The sound came out as a choked sob, even as James kept his body between the window and Harry, even as he turned and began casting detection and protection spells.

Harry fell silent, turning to his father uncertainly, and he immediately caught James's fear. He ducked down, going quiet and still like they'd practiced, but James didn't have the presence of mind to praise him this time.

He found nothing. No one. Their attackers had disappeared as completely as Lily. Lily!

"We're leaving," he told Harry, and scooped him out of his high chair. "Accio bag."

He slipped the straps over his free arm, then shifted Harry to that side to leave his wand arm free.

Harry clung to him. "Muma?" he asked quietly.

James's heart broke a little more. "She won't be coming this time," he whispered. "Hold tight."

He spun and disapparated, leaving the apartment decorated for a party, with a half-cut cake and a half-burned candle.

Leaving behind half of himself that would never be regained.