Chapter Five

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling

Sirius tore out of the room in a flurry of hot, angry tears, unable to look upon the lifeless form of the woman who had given him the unconditional maternal love that he had so craved for. James called after him hoarsely, but was too weighed down by his own grief to even go after him. He merely blinked at his dead mother then turned to Lily with achingly lost eyes, his face bewildered. Lily wrapped her arms fiercely around her husband, tears pricking at her own eyes.

As Lily stroked James' hair soothingly and felt his wet cheeks dampening her collarbone, she could see Mrs. Potter in a serene splendour, lying upon her white sheets. Of course Mrs. Potter had been sweaty with fever, but in death, Lily had never seen a person more peaceful and at rest. Her face that was lined with countless years, the eyes that were always filled with warmth and the long white hair that used to be tied up in elegant twists, seemed to have taken on a new glow.

James made no sounds as his face lay buried in against her chest. Only occasionally Lily heard small gasps and wished he would let go of all his self-control and really grieve. However, she knew that was a useless wish, for she had rarely seen James cry. Suddenly, James stiffened in her arms and looked up at her with a face of granite—the ultimate self-control. The face of the lost and bereft man that had five minutes ago gazed at her with such a need of comfort had been replaced with an emotionless and grave face that seemed alien to Lily. Where had his roguish grin and lively eyes gone to?

He coughed and gently disengaged himself from her embrace, standing tall with his jaw clenched. Lily noticed how he studiously averted his eyes from his mother's bedside and his fists lay clenched by his sides. His emotions were being controlled by a hair breadth. "I need to make a list, Lily."

Lily blinked. "A list?"

"A list of all the things I need to plan for mum's funeral," James repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "There's all her Ministry friends, Dumbledore of course will want to come…the Order and—"

"James, there's no need to think about that now…your mum has just—"

"Yes, I must think about it now. Who else will, Lily?"

"You are in no state to plan anything rationally right now…"

"I need to do this. Do not argue with me—not now," James said curtly, his knuckles almost white with tension.

Lily fought down the urge to respond, knowing that it could lead to something ugly with unforgiving words. She sighed in defeat and leaned into James, brushing her lips ever-so softly against his unshaven cheek. "What are you going to do about Sirius?"

James closed his eyes for a moment as if he were in great pain. "Sirius needs some time alone. He'd be in no mood to talk about what's happened."

Like you, Lily said silently.

James' eyes flickered back to his dead mother and he seemed to blanch for a split moment, but when Lily blinked again, his posture was strong and stoic, but underneath that façade, she could detect a fragile centre that was just waiting to break.

Lily reached out to touch him again, wanting to enfold him in her arms and let him cry, murmur soft words of comfort and stroke his messy hair—like he had done for her nine months ago when her parents had been murdered by Voldemort. She had been a distraught mess, unable to eat or sleep. James had been such a comfort. He had stayed by her side unconditionally, listened silently to her weeping ramblings, rubbing her back soothingly, knowing what to say and what not to. He had not attempted to say false cheery statements like, 'everything will be okay', or 'cheer up'.

Lily had never felt so inadequate in her life. She did not know how to deal with this silent and grave James.

"I need to call St. Mungo's and get them to transport my mother's body," James said in a controlled voice with only a slight waver at the end. He breathed in deeply and gripped Lily's hand so tightly that she almost winced from the pressure but she would not and could not tell him to lessen the pressure on her hand. She felt as if she was the only thing that was keeping him from toppling off that emotional precipice and into darkness.

"I can do it for you," Lily volunteered softly.

James shook his head stubbornly. "No. I am her son so I need to do it."

"Then delegate some of the burden to me—I am your wife remember?"

James' eyes hardened. "I know that, Lils, but this is my duty as her son." Lily opened her mouth to reply but James cut her off and said in a voice that would allow no disagreement: "What you can do for me is rest."

Lily's mouth narrowed into a thin line and bit back the urge to insist—even if it meant holding her husband at wand point—that he allow her to share this heavy load that he was so determined on shouldering himself. She hated seeing him walling off his emotions to her and wanted to let him know that no one would think any less of him if he showed some vulnerability. However, she nodded reluctantly in agreement, despite her deep misgivings and felt her heart clench violently as she watched her husband lean over Mrs. Potter one last time and kiss her gently on the forehead, his hand trembling.

Lily wearily trod down the stairs to the kitchen. She had not slept at all, even though a new day was slowly melting the dark night away. She felt numb and longed to lie down but how could she, when her husband and his best friend were in such a state? James had secluded himself away in his father's old study that had not been touched since his death with a long piece of parchment and a quill and she had no idea where Sirius had gone off to.

To her surprise, she saw Sirius slumped over the kitchen table with a large silver frame in his hand. He raised his tormented face to hers, grief etched in every crevice of his face. Oh, how different he was to James in expressing his grief! Sirius would wear his heart in plain view for all to see but James would bottle it up like a stoic Roman soldier. It never failed Lily to see how two best friends and brothers could be so alike but so different.

"Oh, Sirius," Lily said compassionately, pulling a chair up next to him.

"Lils, I can't believe she's gone," Sirius said emotionally, pushing a strand of his elegant dark hair that was now damp with tears and sweat out of his face.

"Neither can I, Sirius."

Sirius showed Lily the silver frame he was holding. It was a family portrait that must have been taken around the beginning of seventh year. Mr and Mrs Potter stood at the back, the former with his hand on James' shoulder and ruffling his son's hair affectionately while the latter stood with her hand on Sirius' shoulder. In the picture, Sirius punched James' arm playfully as Mrs Potter smiled in exasperated affection at her two boys. Mrs Potter would then glance at Mr Potter, the both of them sharing a quick, private smile that bespoke almost a century of love and devotion.

"This is my favourite photo," Sirius said quietly. "What the Potters did for me, I will never forget. When I ran away in sixth year, the first and only place I thought of going to refuge was them. There was no one else…" his eyes deepened and became far way, as if he had been transported to a distant time that Lily had had no insight into. Lily allowed him to continue speaking, knowing this was his way of coping and healing.

"I had left the hell hole that had been my home and arrived at Prongs' doorstep in the middle of the night, soaked to the bone with only a small suitcase filled with the barest essentials and a damaged broomstick. Mrs Potter at first thought I was a Death Eater and Mr Potter had his wand at the ready…as soon as they saw me, they dropped everything, called Prongs out of bed and the three of them acted as if all that mattered in the world was me." An awed expression came over Sirius' face as if he could still not believe his good fortune. "Mrs Potter got the house elves to place clean sheets in the room that was always reserved for me when I stayed with them during the holidays—that whole night was a blur of concerned faces, solicitude and hot soup."

Sirisu' eyes focused on Lily again, a wan smile flickering across his face. "The whole happy and concerned family was a whole new notion for me. I had never had any maternal affection in my life—only abuse and hatred." His smile became twisted at that confession, to which Lily placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Sirius inhaled deeply and continued on with his recollection. "The times with the Potters were the best times of my life when I wasn't at Hogwarts. I remember waking up at midday the following day, slightly disorientated at my new surroundings and what I saw at the foot of my bed—it was the most simple, yet kindest gift I had had before."

Lily smiled encouragingly at him and Sirius' features had softened at the warm memory. "At the foot of my bed was a pair of pale blue pajamas with my name embroidered on them, which were similar to the pair Prongs had that I used to tease him mercilessly about at school and they had left a key which would open up a new account for me at Gringotts."

"That sounds exactly like the Potters," said Lily, warmed by the Potters' unselfish generosity towards Sirius.

"They refused to accept any money from me. They insisted that my happiness was all the payment they wanted. Even when Uncle Alphard died, they refused to take any portion of his inheritance to me. Prongs told me that I was a prat when I offered him Alphard's money," Sirius said, a ghost of a grin appearing on his face at the thought.

"They really loved you, you know Sirius."

"I know that now…I think the moment I really knew I was a part of the family, really felt like I was a Potter, was when my dastardly witch of a mother stormed around to the Potters three weeks after I ran away, screaming all sorts of threats at Mrs Potter…Mrs Potter suddenly appeared to—to glow and power seemed to emanate from her. It wasn't maniacal, dark power, but the unadulterated power of light. Her eyes glittered with hard strength and in a steely voice she managed to render that monster who had somehow gave birth to me, silent. Never had I seen any woman—or man for that matter—cower my mother into silence before without the use of dark magic or ominous threats…it was amazing. Mrs Potter had placed her arms around me and held me close like I had always dreamed of a mother doing to me and—" Sirius broke off and flushed with uncharacteristic embarrassment at expressing such an intimate, long cherished thought.

Lily could not reply, feeling a lump of emotion in her throat and did not want to speak for fear she would cry. Instead, she rubbed his shoulder reassuringly and Sirius smiled waveringly at her.

"She was a special lady, indeed," Lily said softly, her green eyes sparkling with tears.

"She was," Sirius said hoarsely, as the sun rose up through the windows.

End of Chapter 5! Next Chapter: How long can James keep up that stoic barrier? Mrs Potter's funeral and appearances of Remus and Peter (sorry to all of you who are Remus and Peter lovers, but they will appear in the next chapter, I promise!) Please review and tell me what you think!