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At the beginning, everything had seemed absolutely right. She had graduated, passed almost all her N.E.W.T.s, was engaged to the love of her life and, despite the horrors of the war outside, had a group of loyal and extremely brave friends who, alongside her, were willing to fight for a better, more respectful and inclusive world.
And she was grateful, of course. She knew very well the reasons behind that battle and could not help but wonder what she could possibly have done to deserve that so many people were willing to fight on behalf of individuals “like her.” They were wizards, pure-bloods, who could simply have fled, denied responsibility, and could not even be blamed. But they chose to stay. Because they saw the truth, because, like her, they were dreamers, because they were her friends.
Even on the most difficult days, when they returned absolutely exhausted and hopeless from a mission, Lily could still, by looking deep into each of their eyes, see the burning aim of fighting, the desire to subvert whatever segregating order had been previously established. They wanted to battle. They wanted to win. And they might need a night’s sleep somedays, but they would always rise again, like the phoenix they had so bravely committed to represent.
But being courageous, brave, and persistent is much easier when the sparks of the fire only hit you briefly, leaving light burns and honorable battle scars. Everything changes when that same fire tries to swallow you and the one you love all at once and without warning. The image was, to say the least, frightening.
They had been on the streets for at least three days, hungry and cold, but resilient. They had committed to keeping watch in Diagon Alley in Hagrid’s absence, who had been sent north to try to negotiate agreements with the giants for the first time. And perhaps it was exhaustion, latent fear, or lack of attention, but none of them noticed when the enormous cloud of dust approached.
They walked unsuspectingly among the closed shops in the darkness of night when their bodies were thrown against each other. Lily had no time to think, her wand was lost, her body immobilized on the ground, a foot pressed against her throat and the air began to fail her. Beside her, standing, James writhed, being punished by a very well-cast Cruciatus curse. The screams were excruciating, but the cold, disgusting laughter that escaped from beneath the hoods around them was even worse.
But they hardly cared about their own pain anymore; they wanted to get out of there; they wanted to save each other. Lily tried to get up at all costs, but she could not, she was paralyzed. She felt tears streaming down her face with each cry from James and her vision began to blur due to the little oxygen she could capture. And he screamed as he tried to focus on any happy memory, wanting to break the curse, to fight somehow, but seeing Lily’s body growing paler on the ground drained his strength. She was half-dead…
No. It could not be. Rather him than her. Please. Please. Merlin, if you are listening, now would be a good time. Please. Please. PLEASE!
It was then that a strong flash erupted from the other end of the street, and there was little time for formal introductions. One moment they were lost in the dark, the next engulfed by a frenzied blaze. James, now lying on the ground, tried desperately to recover his wand, but was prevented by a can of flame that insisted on consuming his body, making him scream and bleed again.
There was no longer any weight on Lily’s body, but she remained powerless, immobile. She wanted to scream for help. Wasn’t there anyone there who could see what was right in front of her? JAMES WAS DYING!
And it could not be. Rather her than him. Please. Please. Merlin, if you are listening, now would be a good time. Please. Please. PLEASE!
That's when a long, cold hand grabbed her by the collar, dragging her briefly across the bricks and closer to the fire. She felt the heat almost entirely consume her and then everything vanished. She closed her eyes, thinking that this must be, finally, the end. But when she reopened them, she found herself in front of the battered old Shrieking Shack. There were people around her, but it was impossible to recognize them; her body was already giving up.
It was already morning when she reopened her eyes. The light entered faintly through the very white curtains of that infirmary she would recognize even with her eyes closed. It had been at least six months since she had last been there, helping Madam Pomfrey reorganize bottles of sleeping potion and promising to return one day to help with the infirmary’s care as a healer. But she was almost certain she had not fulfilled that promise in the best way.
She could feel the bandages and herbs distributed over her body and her neck absurdly stiff from the wounds. Her mind, little by little, tried to retrace everything that had happened, searching for an explanation for why she was in a bed at Hogwarts, even after graduation.
And then reality struck her like lightning. The despair, the screams, the fear. A nightmare from which she could not wake up. The image of James came to her mind and, in an involuntary response, she found herself searching for him. Her body rose suddenly from the bed, causing pain, but that no longer mattered. With small steps, she approached the bed beside hers, slowly pulling back the curtain. It had to be him there. It must be him.
But the sight made her lose strength. No. It should not be him there. He lay with his eyes closed and almost looked like a mummy, so wrapped in bandages. Some wounds seemed to have a life of their own and refused to be staunch. His chest rose and fell so subtly it almost seemed inoperative. And Lily could not believe what she saw. There was James Potter. Her James. Her love. Her life. Half-dead.
She began to cry instantly. She did not care if anyone saw it, if Madam Pomfrey would scold her for leaving her bed. She needed to be with him. She sat at the edge of his bed with difficulty and squeezed his hand tightly, hoping she could still feel the warmth of blood running through his veins.
At that moment, she felt his fingers intertwine with hers, catching her completely by surprise. His eyes remained closed, but his voice came out weak and hoarse – “Don’t stay there, gorgeous. You’re hurt. You need to rest.”
She could not believe it. Her? Hurt? Oh yes, because he was just fine! Unbelievable!
“Look who’s talking…” – she tried to sound playful, but tears were already streaming down her face. It was so relieving to see him there. Alive!
“Come here…” – he called softly, hoping she would comply. And so, she did.
Awkwardly and painfully, Lily lay down beside him on the bed, crying even more as she looked at him up closely. His face was completely bruised and swollen, but still beautiful. By Merlin… she felt guilty.
“Forgive me” – she sobbed softly, gently stroking James’s hair – “this fight should not even be yours…”
“What do you mean?” – his tone was irritated and, for the first time in that moment, he risked opening one of his eyes to look at her.
“You know very well, James” – her voice was almost inaudible – “People like me must fight. But you don’t. You could have spent more time with your parents, fled to another country, lived another life. But now you’re here. And all because of me…”
“That’s not true.”
“YOU ALMOST DIED, JAMES!” – the scream was not truly directed at him. She was angry at herself. Why did he insist on denying reality? It was not the first time they had argued about this…
“You. Too.” – Lily tried to interrupt him, but he did not let her, continuing firm and determined – “Not just yesterday. Always. At every corner there’s someone trying to convince others that you shouldn’t be here. I won’t allow that. So, my love, accept it: this fight is mine too. As long as you exist, I will fight for you, care for you, and be by your side. I would climb any mountain, cross any river, and face any enemy for you. I love you. Don’t let yourself believe otherwise, please.”
Lily wanted to argue but had no good arguments. Deep down, she even agreed. She loved him too much and would cross any hell to save him. She closed her eyes, snuggling against his body for a few more minutes until someone came to say they could not do that in the infirmary.
She did not know what tomorrow would be like. She did not even know what the next hour would be like. But now, her heart and James' were beating in the most harmonious discord she had ever been lucky enough to know in life, and she would not trade that for anything.