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She was with him through everything.
“Surely not every single moment,” Severus remarked, a little note of concern "He's a grown man."
Lily laughed, freely, with youth that reminded them of their childhood.
From the first desperate cry at birth, which echoed in the sterile quiet of the room, to the delicate warmth of his newborn skin against her chest, through all the unshed tears and the silence behind closed doors, through every gritty moment of his life, every wince of pain, and every battle he valiantly fought—until he lay in bed, surrounded by loved ones, bidding farewell.
"How much longer?" she murmured, the weight of waiting heavy in her voice.
"Patience, Lily. It will be soon," Severus reassured, his fingers intertwined with hers, as she shifted eagerly on her toes, eyes scanning the horizon for any hint of the approaching train.
Her heart had echoed his every laugh and mirrored every tear; when he hid, trembling in the cupboard, her sobs had mingled with his. And as he gazed out the window, lost in daydreams, she sent kisses carried on winds of hope.
"Could he have gotten off at the wrong station?" she fretted.
"No, he knows his way," Severus responded, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
Throughout his adventures, from flights on his broom to restless nights in the hospital, she watched, she cheered, she stood guard.
"Am I overly dressed for this?" Lily’s voice wavered with a mix of excitement and nerves.
"You look perfect," Severus remarked, his patience thinning but his grip tightening, supportive as ever.
A soft kiss on her cheek, "Lil's, you haven't aged a day."
Beside her, James shuffled. He feigned nonchalance, but Lily could feel his fingers trembling in hers.
He had endured the same as her, sometimes with even more passion, screaming in anger and frustration against the injustices, sometimes prostrating himself and begging for their son’s safety and care. Here, past grudges meant nothing. What was the animosity of life in the face of love? “Go get him, bud!” James would urge, “tell him you love him back.” He'd whisper.
James was happiest, knowing his son had lived a well and truly remarkable life, even though they couldn't. But he was determined to be a part of it in someway —the only person who truly understood the agony of this wait. "He's coming," he whispered, almost to himself.
"Think we're still taller?" Sirius mused aloud, arms crossed, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. He maintained his youthful appearance, but his eyes were now calmer and wiser. Remus was here too, smiling, hands in his pockets. "My son is as tall as him," he said in a wistful tone.
Tonks leaned her head atop Remus' shoulder, pink hair drapping his coat, comforting.
"He definitely has only looked better as the years passed," Molly jovially added, an arm linked around her beaming husband.
"He neglected himself a bit those few years after," Hermione commented, hugging herself, standing as close as she could to the yellow line. "I know a part of him has never recovered." She turned to Severus, "It will soon, though."
Severus' lips rose slightly. "Yes, it will," he replied, with such strong promise and conviction in his voice that it soothed Lily's soul, knowing Harry was so loved.
A whole audience of people wanted to come, all eager to welcome him. But Lily begged for this chance to be only for close family, a small and more intimate reception.
On Harry's forty fourth birthday. This had been his wish. Accomplished, content, what more can a wizard want?
“To always have my loved ones around me.”
Lily held that wish dearly.
And then, a distant rumble, a growing vibration on the tracks—the train was indeed coming.
"It’s here, Lily! It’s here!" Severus’s voice cracked, the stoic façade crumbling as twenty years of waiting condensed into a single moment of raw emotion.
On her tiptoes, her hands fluttering like captured birds, chest smothered with longing, Lily’s too couldn't contain the tears building. It was too long, almost as long as eternity.
The train, a grand machine cloaked in gleaming black and scarlet, roared into the station with the majestic force of a steel-clad dragon. Billowing clouds of steam unfurled around it like ancient spells cast into the cool air, and the rhythmic clatter of its wheels sang a welcome song of return.
The doors opened.
My son.
Finally, Harry emerged, a broad shouldered adult, he was tall! His hair untamed and raven black, his eyes—a mirror of hers—sparkling.
At first sight of Severus, a broad smile transformed the young man's face, as if all the pain and sorrow were erased in that single moment. He descended the stairs eagerly.
But upon seeing Lily, he paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled reception. Tears quickly overwhelmed him. With a cry that was a mix of laughter and sobs, Lily enveloped him in an embrace that bridged the years they had been apart.
"Welcome to eternity," she whispered.