Archive of Our Own ^beta

It hurts, to look at you,

To watch you walk out the front door,

And know you may never come back.

＊※＊

Lily bit her lip, watching James pace the room. "I won't be gone for long, y'know. It's just to pick up some supplies—we're running out of potion supplies."

James glared at her. "Last time you went out, you almost died. And that was supposed to be a quick stop, too!"

She folded her arms in response. "I didn’t almost die, I just... took the wrong hex."

"Same thing!"

"I have to go, James! We need to brew more antidotes, more healing potions!" she snapped.

He folded his arms. "Why can't I go instead? Why can't—I don’t know—Marlene go instead?"

She glared in response. "What do you think? I’ll just let you do all the fighting and sit at home?"

James slumped into a chair. "It's just... hard, y'know? Watching you risk your life."

"It's hard for me, too. But we don’t have a choice."

James fixed his eyes on her. "Please come back."

She smiled, tucked her wand in her pocket, and leant in to peck his cheek. James didn’t move, staring blankly at her as she waved goodbye.

"I’ll be back for dinner, mmkay? Love you."

James was still staring at the front door as it slammed shut.

＊※＊

It hurts, to search for you,

To lose you amongst this war,

And not know what's behind my back.

＊※＊

"James!" Lily screamed into the rubble around her, not caring anymore if Death Eaters heard her. "Are you okay?"

The silence swallowed her words.

"JAMES!" she called, getting desperate. Where was he? Trapped under rubble? Knocked out? Or worse—

He couldn’t be dead, she told herself. She would know if he was dead.

She picked herself up and glanced around. The muggle farmhouse, as well as the surrounding area, was completely destroyed. There were no Death Eaters to be seen. No whimper of pain, no yelled curses, not even Dark Mark eerily floating in the air—which somehow was even more frightening than if it had been there.

Just rubble, silence, and the empty night stretching into the distance.

Lily held her wand up. "Lumos."

Not even any bodies. She flinched and took a deep breath.

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, YOU BETTER NOT BE DEAD, OR I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF!"

Nothing.

Her voice was swallowed up, as though the moon glanced at her in disdain and asked, "is that really as loud as you can get?"

She crumpled to the ground and stared into the distance, waiting for someone to find her.

＊※＊

I t hurts, to love you,

To find light when we thought we would fall,

To feel the weight of my pain on your back.

＊※＊

Harry gurgled in his crib, so blissfully unaware of the fate that rested on him.

"Is it wrong if I just want him to be normal?" Lily asked, brushing her hand against James'.

"It's just, well, too much. He's so... so small. So young. And he's ours."

James bent down and kissed her: gently, quietly. "I know, Lils, I know."

And he did.

Lily's arms tightened around him, a like he was her anchor in the waves of the war.

"I— I’m scared, James. I hate this bloody war, and I hate Voldemort for causing it."

He pulled her closer, wishing he could drag out all the hurt she was feeling and let her be happy for once.

How long had it been, since he last saw her smile? How long, since she'd laughed?

"I just want to live my life, James. Is that too much to ask?"

He kissed her again. "I know, Lils, I know."

She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

＊※＊

It hurts, to fight with you,

To hear your helpless call

And know I can never call back.

＊※＊

"Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off—"

Green light.

Silence.

There's nothing, no one; he can’t speak, can’t breathe.

Lily is still alive, he thinks dully. Harry is with her.

That's all that matters.

Harry would be safe. He could feel it. Harry would live.

He smiles—Lily is in Harry's nursery now—and wonders if Harry really was the child of the prophecy. He hoped not, but there was always the chance...

He felt Lily's fear. Lily's pain—and he understood why he could still feel her.

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—”

She was coming now.

＊※＊

'Till death do us part—and maybe not even then.