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Lily looked out before her, the sun burning in her irises as if it were an extension of herself. Her long auburn hair gleamed under the dying rays. Her face was painted with the reflection of the pink and orange hues.
“We are at war, Remus.” She breathed, as if confessing a secret.
“That, we are,” Remus replied, looking at her curiously. He didn’t know why she was bringing this up now, but it seemed important. Monumental.
“We are at war and destined to die. Do you ever think about what that means?”
Remus watched her, silently. He knew she did not expect an answer; it was obvious. All of them had been thinking it, although none of them dared to speak it into existence. It had been following them around like a ghost. Loud, explosive Sirius had gotten even louder, as if to drown out the deafening silence. Anxious Peter was increasingly twitchy. Even James – bright, larger-than-life, easygoing James – had felt the strains of the war. His smiles had grown tighter, and his laughter emptier.
“Do you ever think about what will happen after us, after this war?” Lily closed her eyes and breathed. Remus continued to watch her. Whatever she was about to say, it was clear she had been thinking it for a while now.
“ I do.” She continued. “It seems like it's all I can think about. Will they look back at us, at our lives, at this war? Will they remember us? If so, when time distorts the memory of ourselves, how will it exaggerate and diminish our different parts?”
She played with the ring on her finger, a simple gold band with a ruby set in the middle. She tapped her feet in a rhythmic pattern on the damp silver grass.
“I don’t want to be remembered in parts , Remus. I don’t want to be remembered as a sacrifice or a martyr or… or a war hero. I don’t want to be remembered as some perfect, unreachable idea. A patchwork, the best parts of me cut out and stitched together into a fairytale quilt.”
She turned to Remus suddenly. She had always been like the sun, Lily. Brilliant, moving, and unforgettable. She drew people into her orbit effortlessly, letting them bask in her warmth. Now, she looked at Remus with something he rarely saw in her: desperation. She was begging to be understood.
“I am real, Remus! I am real, I am tangible, and I am human ! I have bones under my skin and blood in my veins, just like anyone else. I have fears, and desires, and flaws. I am selfish and–and quick to anger, and at times so close-minded. I make mistakes and I lash out, and I hurt people I love.”
She grabbed his hands and held them tightly in hers. She looked him in his eyes, and he struggled to hold her gaze. He waited, breath shallow, heart aching.
“Promise me, promise me , Remus Lupin. That when I die and the war ends, when people gather around in my memory, you will tell them of my achievements and failures, of my strengths and imperfections. That you will not diminish me, or break me into little bits, so that I am easier to digest. Promise me that you will remember me just as I am.”
The notion that Lily would die was outlandish, laughable, blasphemous. Lily, so full of life and energy. Lily, loaded with determination and righteous anger. Lily, who was smarter, stronger, and braver than them all. No, there was no world in which Lily Evans would die. He humored her, however, because he knew this was important to her. Because even if it would never happen, the momentary reassurance was what she needed.
“I promise.”
Her shoulders dropped in an instant, her furrow disappearing. A weight had lifted.
He watched her carefully, whispering the words “And what if I die?”
“Then I will do the same for you.”
Remus looked back at the sky. He was surprised to see that it was dark now. The sun had left without his notice.