The sky was grey on the day James Potter died.

Grey and dark, dark with a storm rolling in. No sunshine, no daylight, just the oppressive darkness and the feeling of thunder in the air.

It was a horribly ordinary day for an extraordinary man to die: white and a darker grey of an oncoming storm swirling around in the vastness of the sky. There was no clear blues, no burning sun, no signs of the life James Potter valued at all.

But a great man died that day, on the 27 of March, 1980. A husband, a father, a friend, a procurer of chaos, the master of pranks, and the very last of the Marauders and the first of them all to fall. He died under an unknown curse on the doorstep of his parents house, knowing that they were missing and possibly dead because of him. He died in front of his wife, the love of his life, without a second to spare to tell her goodbye.

It was grey, just grey, for miles and miles and miles. Nothingness stretched onwards forever, and even the darkness mourned for the loss it had seen.

James Potter, that great and terrible man, was dead.

His life burned twice as bright for half the time, it wasn't right that a man like that had died on his twentieth birthday. It wasn't right that his wife was pregnant and the war was still on and he was paralyzed and unconscious in the moments before he died.

It was cold too, as if he needed another misfortune and that most unfortunate day. The air felt like rain was coming, but then again, the rain would always come.

James Potter would have wanted sunshine in the moments of his death, bright light and a steady wind. This rain was early.

To be honest with you, from a casual onlooker to the rest around, this was a paradox; this particular death for this very particular man. It wasn't yet his time. Anyone could have seen it, there was something so wrong about his death. It was too quick, too sudden. It came with no warning and took no preparation and very little pain if he had, indeed, died; if he had breathed his last on his birthday in 1980.

So perhaps not all was lost, perhaps his true demise was still yet to come: on a bright sunny morning, perhaps, one hundred years from now.

But it didn't, you will come to realize. James Potter didn't die that day in 1980, but he would soon. He had a scant nineteen months to live that day in March, not quite two years. But die he would, and nobly he did, sacrificial love planted his feet and closed his eyes in the thought he was protecting his wife and son behind him.

It will come to no surprise to you then that James Potter had the good fortune of dying more than once. His first was in his wife's arms in a Muggle alley, on a cold afternoon in 1980. The second was on a staircase, wandless, with his wife and son behind him. Both times, it was curses, but at least this time it wasn't Avada Kedavra. That was still yet to come.

And yet, he still died. His rapidly thumping heart came to a sudden stop and his eyes closed on their own accord. He had died right in front of her, only Lily didn't know it at the time. She was too busy trying to save his life.

…

"James we have to go!"

James' head felt like marble, it was incapable of independent movement, lying heavy and immobile on the ground. He knew he was in danger, but it seemed like a far off thing; not dangerous or life threatening; perhaps he had imagined it. The fight, the bright purple light as it hit his heart and made the air crackle and smoke around him. He remembered the pain of a spell hitting his chest, felt his heart stop and start, his breathing fall shallow and strong over and over again.

It's killing me, James remembered thinking. I'm going to die here.

Or maybe not, maybe nothing was wrong at all, perhaps he was just asleep. Maybe he had imagined it all, maybe it was a trick of his subconscious, this death. Maybe he'd wake up in cold sweat, safe and sound in his bedroom.

His body felt disconnected from his thoughts; it felt like he was watching himself through half-shut eyes. But he couldn't see, couldn't properly think, couldn't move. Something must be broken, he thought sleepily. Something was seriously wrong, and even then James knew he was holding on to the last strings of consciousness. It wouldn't be long now.

There was a female voice, insistent and strange sounding hovering over him. He didn't recognize it, the sound was completely foreign to him. His ears rang like they were filled with cotton.

It sounded urgent, and James wanted to help her, he really did. Hands cupped his face and thumbs rubbed circles on his cheekbones as tears rained down on his forehead. Warm lips touched his and James leaned into the touch, so familiar but so strange at the same time.

But he couldn't move, couldn't open his eyes or move his head and that scared him. He could't feel his toes or his fingers or the feeling of the ground below him and it was terrifying. So while she shook him and cried over his numb body, he closed his eyes and all else faded away.

She smelled familiar though, that gingery smell was some sort of perfume, a heady smell that brought back memories of Lily Evans lying on his chest in the Gryffindor tower. The girl was screaming again, tugging at his body. He wanted to help her, honestly he did. But he couldn't. He couldn't feel his body anymore, and his mind was going fuzzy.

James' eyes lolled back inside his head and he knew no more.

…

Lily knew that James might already be dead. His breathing was shallow and his skin was cold and clammy and deathly pale, and when she tried for his pulse, it was faint and sporadic. She knew that if he by some miracle was still alive, he wouldn't have very much longer.

She rummaged through his pockets desperately as the Death Eaters covered around them and took his wand with her own, channeling a powerful exploding curse to collapse the front porch. She gripped her husband's body below her and Disapparated; the thick cloud of dust obscuring both hers and the Death Eater's view of the other.

They landed in the back alley behind St. Mungo's with a sharp crack, with stones and chunks of broken concrete raining around them. Lily cast a quick protego and collapsed to the pavement, James limp beneath her. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and stained her blouse, and she nearly lost consciousness at the sight. She herself was weak, dizzy and nauseous from Disapparating, scared beyond belief and terribly sore. But she had their wands, the house key, all of their worldly possessions kept safe at the cottage. She had James, but she didn't dare consider the possibility that he might already be gone. She had to hope that he would be okay, she had to be brave for both of them. But the adrenaline was fading, and sharp shooting pains ran through her abdomen and she doubled over from the pain of it.

She let go of James' hand and curled into the foetal position, hands over the baby within her, horrified that she hadn't thought twice about Appparating this late in her pregnancy. She might have saved her husband but killed their baby in the process.

The pain returned in earnest a minute later and Lily cried out, tears streaming down her face as the baby tossed and turned within her. Nausea overtook her and she vomited on the pavement below her, her body shaking from the pain. She begged every deity she had ever heard from to take away her pain, to give her relief, to let her rest. But it never gave up, and the spasming pain in her lower abdomen never let up, a worse pain than anything she had ever felt before. It felt as though all there was was suffering and anguish and pain and everything else was a deception. A lie, because all there was now was the pain.

Her body shook silently as she curled her body around her baby, anchoring it to herself as if she could, by will alone convince him to stay. Convince him not to leave her, it was too early, he would die if she had to give birth now. She would lose her baby because she was too weak, and if he died tonight, she would never forgive herself.

A sharp spasm encompassed her lower stomach and Lily shook her head desperately as tears ran down her face and screams and profanities leaked out from her lips. She was going to lose him, lose both of them, the two most important people in her life in the same night. Lose them both to her mistakes.

The sharp throbbing returned in earnest, but Lily was too weak to scream. Too weak to give birth in an alley by herself, too weak to try save her own life, if not only for the baby's sake. She couldn't, she couldn't do it. James was dead, the baby was dead, and it was just as well that she should die tonight too.

Suddenly, there was nothing, and the pain left as quickly as it had come. She wiped her sweaty hair off her forehead and collapsed on top of James, hands gripping her belly until she realized that he was silent.

The baby wasn't moving.

She screamed as tears ran down her cheeks, she reached around her belly and elevated her legs as if to convince herself not to miscarry, not to lose their baby. But she was tired, and it was hopeless. What life did she have when James Potter was dead? She couldn't bear the thought of living without him, she couldn't lose him, not after all they'd lost and overcome together.

So she took James' hand in her own and curled into his side, sweaty and cold and weak, the baby still and silent within her and when her belly began to spasm once more, she fell unconscious as a sweet release from the pain.

…

Lily's sleep was disconcerting.

She remembered a strange buzzing noise, the sound of many people shouting and the wave-like feeling of healing spells cast on her. She lie still, half awake, well aware how temperamental healing charms were, and before the people were done, she was once again asleep.

She woke for a second time in a hospital bed. She groaned quietly as she opened her eyes, the blinding whiteness of a mid afternoon sun blazing in her eyes. She rolled over and flung an arm over her eyes in the attempt to block the light to no avail. Moving made nausea run through her like a wave so she lied still and breathed deeply, something she had often tried in her first trimester to alleviate morning sickness. She sighed in relief when it passed.

Lily blinked and opened her eyes, taking in the sterile environment, the sickly sweet smell of open wounds and antiseptic. She was in a hospital.

But she felt sore, there was no way around it. She lifted up the hem of her hospital gown and felt the tender skin of her belly, wondering if the baby was okay. She was terrified that she might've splinched him, might've hurt him in their escape. But he rolled over in her belly and she could've cried with relief. He was okay, their child was okay too. She placed her hands over the tumbling child within and sent him all the love and peace she could spare, hoping that it would be enough to protect her baby.

Upon looking down, she saw smooth arms and legs, no burns or cuts. She wondered if the healers had done somethings to erase marks while she was unconscious, to take away old scars and burn tissue, to erase any evidence of survival from her body. She wondered what they had given her to sleep, it felt like she had been unconscious forever.

Succumbing to alertness, Lily sat up, her hospital gown crinkling as she did so. She wasn't bolted to the bed, but she felt uneasy and on edge, as if potions were just beginning to wear off. A glass of water sat on her nightstand, and she drank deeply, applying little pretence to the thought that she was alone.

The room was white, partitioned off with sheets. The bed she was lying on was narrow and the sheets were thin and starchy. There was a chair in the corner, worn wood, with blankets piled high on top of it. She remembered the hospital, having waited by the bedside of both James and Remus when they were still at Hogwarts. The antiseptic feel was familiar and comforting; it reminded her of the hospital wing, of the clinic by her parent's house she had been to a couple of times. It reminded her of comforting childhood memories, sitting by the bedsides of friends in the stillness of the hospital, holding James Potter's hand in his sleep and kissing him when he woke up.

Lily started when the bundle of blankets moved, and when the hood was removed, startled but relieved to see Sirius Black's face looking back up at her.

"Hey Ginge," he said quietly. "Glad to see you up."

"How long have I been-been out for?" She said, a yawn interrupting her words.

Sirius looked at her with an empty expression. "I don't know, a day or so? Feels like longer. You haven't been awake for longer than fifteen minutes in the past week."

"Is the baby okay?" she asked.

Sirius smiled gently. "He's gonna make it. James-,"

"What? Where's James?" she said immediately as reality hit her square on, looking at Sirius with wild eyes. She felt terrible having not thought of him before. "He's not-not… he's not dead,"

"Other end of the hospital, still unconscious."

She started to rise from her bed, but Sirius was at her side in a second, his strong hands around her shoulders.

"No, you rest," he said calmingly, like he had when they were thirteen and she broke her leg falling off a broom. Steady, warm and concerned but not pitiful, which Lily appreciated. "Rem and I are watching out for you two."

"I need to see him,"

"No, you need to rest," he said. "You're hurt bad, Lils. You need to take it easy. Remus is gonna be here in an hour, he'd like to see you."

"Remus," Lily said, a huge sense of relief followed with the knowledge that James was going to be okay. "He's back?"

He nodded. "And unharmed, relatively; he's got a broken arm, crazy scars, but they fixed him. He's a little messed up, y'know. But we're all a little fucked up."

Sirius sat down beside her and Lily leaned into his shoulder.

"How bad is he?" Lily asked, hesitant to hear the answer. He had been almost dead last time she had seen him, after all.

"Pretty bad," Sirius said, and Lily sighed sadly. "They still don't know what hit him, it could've been anything coming from a Death Eater."

"At least he isn't dead," Lily said, trying to hold back tears.

"He came close, Lils. This isn't over yet." Sirius put his head in his hands and came back up looking ten years older with grief. "They think they were targeting his memories."

…

"What?"

"The spell, I was talking to the healers. They think it ate away at his memories, starting with the most recent and going backwards. The longer he was exposed to it, the more," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, making him look mangy and wild. "The more it took. So I don't know, no one knows. He hasn't woken up since you've been here, and you've been in hospital for a week."

"Sirius, you tell me what's going on, right now!" she said suddenly, grabbing at him. "That's not true, it can't be! Sirius, tell me the truth!"

He took both of her hands in hers, but that reminded her too much of James and she wrenched her hands away.

"Lily, I'm not lying," he said brokenly.

"No it can't be true, it can't be! No one could be that cruel!"

"Lily, please calm down. Please sit still, you're still healing, sit still for the baby's sake."

"No I will not calm down!" She shrieked, slamming her fists down onto the bed even though it hurt to be moving so quickly. "You drop that on me and expect me to be calm! You tell me my husband lost years of his memories and I should sit back and be quiet! Are you insane!"

"Lily, you almost lost the baby," Sirius said quietly. "Please listen to me."

She raised her hands to her mouth, the reality of the situation hitting her like a truck. She would do anything for her baby, she'd live and die as long as he was safe. And he needed her to be calm, so she took a deep, shaky breath and steadied her hands to clutch at the sheets below her while tears ran down her cheeks.

"James is okay for now," Sirius said, "I saw him this morning, he's in a medically induced coma, whatever that means. The healers have been working around the clock for him, they're doing everything they can. But he needs rest, and he needs time, same as you. You won't be helping James by crying for him."

"He might be gone, Sirius. After all this time, he could be taken from me and there's nothing I can do?"

"You can hope," Sirius said. "You're the believer in impossible dreams Lils, remember? No me. You believed James would fall in love with you and he did, and if he forgets, he can love you again. Not all is lost."

Lily looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears, and Sirius took her into his arms like he had all those years before. Like he had back on the day her sister rejected her and Snape abandoned her and she felt so alone. He was there for her then, and he was there for her now. Like he always would be, her best friend until James would return to her.

Even then when they knew nothing, Sirius knew he couldn't help her. So he held her as she cried and whispered calming words and promises into her ear until she exhausted her tears and fell into sleep.

…

The next time she awoke, she was alone.

It was the same room, she was relatively sure, but Sirius' chair was unoccupied. The room spelled strongly of of disinfectant and latex, and she sighed deeply and fell back onto her pillows.

"Glad to see you're awake," a voice said from the doorway. Lily opened her eyes and saw a blonde healer standing with a clipboard in her hands. "Just here to check your vitals, no need to fear."

Lily nodded and the healer put her clipboard down on the nightstand and pulled up Sirius' chair.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, dipping her quill in ink. "Nausea? Headache?"

Lily sat up with a groan. "My belly aches."

The healer waved her wand over Lily's midsection and shook her head. "The foetus was in distress following Disapparation. You came close to miscarrying."

Lily's heart leapt into her throat and she froze. Even though she had known the baby was in trouble the thought of miscarrying was unbearable to stomach. "Is he okay?"

"We stabilized him using Muggle techniques," the healer said, exchanging her wand for a quill. "Which is uncommon, but magical medicine is primitive in many ways to Muggle techniques. We strengthened your cervix and gave you something to calm the baby down. A Muggleborn healer thought of it fast enough for the baby to survive."

"Oh thank God," Lily sighed, and cradled her belly gently. "Remind me to thank them, they saved my baby's life."

"Certainly," the healer said, "her name is Melody, I'll arrange tea once you're well enough." Lily smiled.

"That's kind," Lily said. "I would like that."

The healer jotted down a few notes and the two remained in a comfortable silence while her wand preformed preliminary tests over Lily's body. Her heart still ached thinking about her husband, but all she could do now was keep herself healing and healthy, for both the baby's sake and her own, until she could see James again. She was putting her life in this woman's hands she barely knew. Lily didn't even know who she was.

"What's your name?" Lily asked, looking up at the healer. "I should have asked earlier."

"Catherine," the blond healer replied and offered her hand, which Lily shook. "Pleased to formally meet you,"

"Likewise," Lily said. "Although I wish it could've been under more pleasant circumstances,"

Catherine smiled and wrote down a note regarding test results.

"I won't lie to you and say you'll be up and moving in no time," Catherine said. "You're still badly injured internally and will require weeks of rehabilitation before you can be discharged from intensive care."

"I thought as much,"

"This is now a high risk pregnancy," Catherine continued, crouching down to be on her level. "I highly recommend bedrest until you give birth, for both the child's sake and your own."

"Bedrest?" Lily said. "My husband is unconscious and you want me to stay in bed?"

"You nearly died," Catherine said, and Lily started. "In fact, you lost a pulse four times in the past week. So yes, if you plan on staying alive yourself and keeping your baby safe you are staying here."

"Oh,"

"Yes," she said, her no nonsense tone strangely familiar. "Now, would you like something to eat?"

Lily let out a scared breath, grasping for any memories of the last week and coming up with nothing other than her brief exchange with Sirius. How could she have forgotten so quickly?

"Um, crackers please," she said, and then paused. "Maybe something fizzy?

"I'll see what I can do," Catherine said, and just as she turned the corner, Lily fell once again into sleep.

…

By the time she came around for good, it was late afternoon. Lily didn't know if it was the same day or not as the previous waking encounter, and didn't care enough to ask.

Remus was leaning against the wall, his cardigan worn and fraying around the edges. He was thinner than usual, and had an angry looking bruise on his left cheekbone, and Lily hated to think of how he had gotten it. Maybe at the mission Dumbledore had sent him on all those months ago.

"Hey, Remmy," she said softly, and Remus jumped.

"Lils!" he said, and ran to her side, but exhaustion showed on his face. She wondered absentmindedly if it was close to the full moon. "I was so worried."

"I'm going-going to be okay, that's the important thing. I didn't miscarry, the baby's going to make it."

Remus' body relaxed as he sighed and hugged her. "Thank the gods, I was so worried."

"But I'm on bedrest until I give birth, the healer called it a high risk pregnancy because of what happened. I Disapparated-,"

"You did what?" Remus breathed. "Lily, you know better! It's so dangerous to Apparate during pregnancy! There had to have been another way! What happened?"

"There was no other way!" Lily said. "James was dead, Remus! He didn't have a pulse! Death Eaters were after us! What the hell did you expect me to do?!"

"What? Why were there Death Eaters? Where were you?"

"You don't know?" Lily yelled. "How don't you know? Why the hell did Sirius not tell you?"

"Sirius isn't here! He's on a mission for the Order; gonna be back next week. I haven't seen him, haven't seen Peter, haven't seem anyone but you or James and the bloody healers won't tell me anything because I'm not family!"

Lily let out a shaky breath and tried to remain calm. Remus wasn't at fault here, all he was trying to do was help, and he had, he was being so kind and all she was doing was yelling at him. What kind of person was she?

Scared, Lily thought. Scared out of her mind.

"We-we went to James' parents house," Lily said, groaning as she sat up. Her belly was still tight and sore. "It was his birthday, and he wanted to see them. But we were ambushed, the Death…the Death Eaters have his parents, and we fell right into a trap. James was duelling a Death Eater, and he got hit and was unconscious and they were closing in. There was no way out; so I Apparated here hoping they could fix him, but he's in a coma Remmy, how could I have let him go!"

"Lily," Remus said, his eyes sad and concerned. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. Please stay still, you're still healing. Don't get up, that's it."

"But we're in hiding, Remus!" She said despairingly, tears splattering onto her knotted fingers. "The baby is in danger and we-we were so stupid into coming, I should have known better, I should've said no, I could've-,"

"You couldn't have done anything," Remus said, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks. "James is a mule when he's set on something. Nothing you said would've made a difference. And anyway, what's done is done. James is strong, he'll pull through."

"I can't," Lily said, a new wave of tears smarting in her eyes. "I might not, I could still lose the baby and James. Oh, Remmy, I'm so scared."

Remus pulled her close and let her cry into his shoulder, sitting side by side with her on the tiny cot like they had all those years ago in Gryffindor tower. But this wasn't playing chess by the fireplace, this was real life. this was his best friend unconscious and his wife in hospital and their baby on Voldemort's radar. This was life in war.

Remus hadn't seen or heard from another wizard in three months, ever since he took Dumbledore's mission at the werewolf colony under an oath of secrecy. This was not seeing his best friends for twelve weeks only to find Sirius missing and James in the hospital and Peter unaccounted for. This was doubting his friends at the height of the war when he still had everything to lose and coming home to this broken reality.

This was life when nothing made sense and everyone she had ever loved had abandoned her. This was the pain she went through when Snape cursed her, when her sister disowned her. This was mind-numbing pain that couldn't be processed and for the millionth time in his life, Remus wished he could take her pain as his own, take that burden from her shoulders, as she should never have to carry it alone. She had always been there for him, and now it was his turn to repay the favour.

So he let her cry, and settled with not knowing, not helping other than encouraging words and careful hugs until she fell asleep once more.