Form.

Existence.

You have it all. You have sight. You have a voice. You have a body - well, it's not corporeal, but that feels like a small price to pay to be in this world. The world of picnics in the forest with Petunia and tender moments with James.

James.

James is here. Your eyes are fixed on the remarkable sight that is your son, but your heart tunes into the presence of your husband, only a few feet away from you. You would touch him if you could, and yet you do not turn your head to look directly at him. You do not have the strength to face the reality of being able to see right through his pale imitation of a body.

Instead, you look at Harry. He is real, he is strong, he is alive. He looks between his mother and father, and in his eyes you see James reflected back at you. If you were to look at your husband you would see confirmation that he is as dead as ever, but in Harry's eyes he is more alive than he has ever been.

Harry is a miracle. He is all you ever dreamed and more than you ever imagined, and there is a weight in his eyes that does not belong to one so young. Your memories of your son are full of precious hours together - the laughter that came when he discovered a new toy, or the sleepless nights that accompanied the slightest sign of a raised temperature. You wonder how much of these memories Harry has been able to hold onto over the years. As you look at him now in pride and love, you feel like you are reliving a thousand instants at once. But for Harry, there is only this moment.

You want to tell him not to die. To stay in this world with its beautiful connections and amazing people for as long as he can. That it is how you would have responded when alive. But now everything is changed. You yourself are not any older or wiser, but your child is. He looks at you with quietly pleading eyes, searching for the guidance and wisdom of a loving mother.

You have so many things you still wish you could say. To Harry, to James, to Tuney, to everyone you've ever loved. But right now the only thing that matters is the thing your son needs to hear. The inevitable words that come from your mouth are merely the reflection of the truths that you see so plainly in his face.

"You've been so brave."

You see the impact that your words have as Harry's heart seems to be swell and break all at once.

He sees you as the mother who died for him, who would do anything for him. He does not see how you failed to stay alive for him, and how every day he has lived since is a day you have abandoned him.

After an eternity longer than death, Harry tears his feasting eyes away from you to speak to the others. He has loved you all, only to be parted from you one by one. You cannot fully understand how he is here, still standing so uncompromised in his faith and perseverance.

You hear not his words, but the feeling behind them. He is only a child, asking for comfort and forgiveness for transgressions no soul would ever blame him for. He is your child, and you want to wrap him up with all the warmth and safety that is left in this world, even now as he prepares to leave it behind.

Then once more his eyes fix on you. "Stay close to me."

There is no request you would more readily grant.

He does not look back. Not at you, nor at your three lost friends. But in his own way he never seems to fully look away from you, and you can feel his heart beating in the rhythm of your names as he marches through trees and enemies, straight to the man who has been the death of you all.

Heroes will be heroes, cowards will be cowards, and you will be Lily.

Harry understands what it has taken you a lifetime and beyond to grasp.

That feeling which once consumed your life, that dread of being separated from those you love, is the last thing on your mind as Harry takes the last breath you will ever witness and the stone binding you to this world slips through his fingers.