On the Outside Looking In

"Bababababa," Harry gurgles in Sirius's lap, showing all of us what a skilled vocalist he was. We, with the exception of a disgruntled Sirius, laugh as, in the process, the young child dribbled all over his godfather's arm.

"Blech," he protests with a wrinkling of his nose and brows, wiping the mess up with his sleeve. But his sour face soon disappears, and he laughs loudly as the baby boy, bored with dribbling all over the place and hearing the sound of his own voice, attempts to stick a finger up the as yet unexplored regions of his godfather's nose. Hearing this, Harry laughs too, not wanting to be left out of all the fun. However, he soon resumes his previous exploration, this time grabbing and pulling various areas of Sirius's face, giggling loudly. After the latter's loud exclamation of protest, however, James takes Harry and seats him in his own lap. Harry starts to wail, reaching towards Sirius, who is still rubbing his pinched red cheeks, and thus a little reluctant to be further abused. Remus then takes the displeased boy, who immediately stops crying, and begins to giggle and clap his hands in excitement. James, undoubtedly, feels the smallest nibble of jealousy at his friends' skills with his son; but, in a very James-ish manner, he brushes it aside with a small smile, and reaches over to take my hand.

I smile lightly as his thumb runs lightly across the back of my hand, thankful for his touch. It's the only thing that keeps me in tune with reality during these hard times. I mean, of course I fear for little Harry; who wouldn't, when the most powerful Dark Lord for centuries is hell-bent on killing your son?

But somehow, it seems so... so distant, so removed from reality. Like it's a horrid nightmare that I'll wake from if the ending turns out to be an unhappy one. Like I'm merely playing the part of a woman trying to protect her son, trying to protect her heart and soul from being torn to pieces; a woman that isn't, that simply couldn't be me.

It's like I'm on the outside looking in. And that troubles me.

"...'Bye, Lily," Sirius says, snapping me out of my reverie. He hands me a still gurgling Harry, then bends over to give me a kiss on the cheek. Remus follows, doing the same, and both men get ready to Apparate to their own hidden homes. I have to fight back tears as, before they go, they each embrace James as if they are leaving a brother they'll never see again.

Who knows? Maybe they've got the right idea.

I glance at a clock nearby, reading eight-thirty p.m. I bounce Harry in my lap a little, and kiss him on the forehead.

"It's time for you to go to sleep, little one," I whisper to him, and he looks up at me with his beautiful green eyes. My eyes. No, no, they aren't my eyes. They aren't eyes shadowed by disillusionment, by fear and anger, by worry, anxiety... by the knowledge of the evil things in this world. I have to fight back tears again, hoping against hope that his eyes never become as mine; that when he grows to be a boy, a young man, an old man, they will still retain some of the hope and innocence that I, too, once had, long ago. That he will retain some trace of the happy naivety I have lost, and will never regain.

I finally set him down in his crib, though he's still quite awake. With a flick of my wand, a magical mobile begins to twirl lazily above his head, and a lullaby tinkles softly. I leave the room and collapse onto a chair in the kitchen, trying to empty my distressed mind of thoughts. But though I feel the fear and anxiety that always hovers about me lately, that's all it does... hover. I feel like I'm on the outside again, watching another woman's life unfold, not my own.

James comes up behind me, rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Are you all right, dear?" he whispers into my hair. My shoulders begin to shake, and I hear sharp, anguished sounds, and it's a while before I realize they are my own sobs. The tears I've been holding in flow freely, and I reach up to grasp his hand.

"I don't know, James. I just don't know anything anymore. I don't know myself... I feel as though I don't know if this is even real." The words come out of my mouth in a rush, stumbling over each other, and I just can't hold them back.

"It's going to be all right, darling. You'll see. Sirius is checking on Peter tonight, you know. No one will ever suspect anything. It's going to be all right." He comes around to pick me up out of the chair, and holds me, and we cling to each other as to life itself. But even he seems distant now, and I feel none of the warmth and comfort I should feel when I'm in his arms. The thought scares me; it scares me so much, that I'm glad for the wails that Harry suddenly bursts out with, giving me a chance to get away, escape from my own husband. A quick glance back at the kitchen reveals him sitting in the chair I vacated, staring into the fire, and thinking deep, no doubt dark, thoughts.

But I purge the image from my mind as I pick up my baby, and carry him out to the sofa in the living room. Sitting down, I hold him close, and he protests still. With everything weighing down my heart and mind, I just can't take it, and I begin to weep silently, stifling my noisy sobs so as not to arouse James's worry.

I begin to rock as I weep, dimly aware that my baby is still wailing loudly, and I begin to put forth all my effort solely into soothing my son, into taking away whatever distress he feels. At this moment, reality is warped, and the distance I've been feeling from it lately is increased a hundredfold; and in this dreamlike state, it seems as though my whole life has been leading up to this moment, as though if I complete this one task, such a simple one on the surface, I will finally be granted the peace that, as a human being, I have naturally sought all my life.

Suddenly, a lullaby flows from my lips, and I neither remember what I just sang, nor what I am about to sing; I just know that I must sing it. And sing I do:

"When you're all alone,

Far away from home,

There's a gift the angels send

When you're alone.

"Every day must end,

But the night's our friend.

Angels always send a star

When you're alone.

"At night, when I'm alone,

I lie awake and wonder:

'Which of them belongs to me?

Which one I wonder?'

"And any star I choose

Watches over me,

So I know I'm not alone

When I'm here, on my own.

"Isn't that a wonder?

When you're alone,

You're not alone,

Not really alone...."

I finish singing, and look down at my sleeping child. His head is resting on my chest, his eyes closed and his face uplifted. His arm is curled against his gently rising and falling chest, but in the motions of sleep, he lifts it around my neck, his small fingers closed upon my shoulder. Seeing him like this, my heart is filled with peace, and were my greatest desire to be granted, time would stop, and we'd stay like this forever.

And then, suddenly, the world comes rushing back, clear and painful, like a slap in the face. It is then that the true weight of reality settles on my shoulders, and it is heavier than it has been before. Suddenly I know that this won't just go away, and that it's really happening.

I know that I'm no longer on the outside looking in.

But while the problem is finally real, is finally there, so is the solution. With a clarity that I haven't felt in months, I realized that the answer to my problem was always there, but I was too frightened to recognize it. For though the answer is simple, it is also terrible to contemplate, for it is this: that I will defend this child's life, no matter what.

Even if it means my own death.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear a loud bang at the door, followed by a gasp, and James's heavy footsteps as he runs into the room, letting loose a string of colorful curses. His face is whiter than I've ever seen it before, and through it his expression shows terrible fear, a strong purpose and determination seems to outshine it. I immediately know what it is happening, and prepare to stand by James' side and defend ourselves.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off - " In a second that contains in eternity, I gaze into my husband's eyes, the eyes of the only man I've ever loved, knowing that this is the last time I'll ever see them. I'm filled with an agonizing, confused mix of emotions: pride and undying love; everlasting sorrow; seething rage and searing pain, as I run with my son into the kitchen, searching for any means of escape. My eyes find the back door as I hear Voldemort force his way through. I run towards it, anxiously grasping the knob - and it doesn't turn. Locked.

"Damn it all to bloody buggery hell!" I hiss under my breath, looking for my blasted wand, or even the blasted key, as noiselessly as possible. I place Harry in a basket lined with soft clothes, not wanting him to drop from my shaking hands. I try to ignore the sounds of my husband struggling with the Dark Lord, but tears spill to floor nonetheless. While I'm searching for something, anything with which to make our escape, my eyes fall on James and his foe in the living room. I freeze, unable to move, as I hear the fatal words,

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

I hear James's life rushing away, see his lifeless body fall to the floor, and an earth-shattering, blood-curdling scream pierces the night. I'm suddenly filled with hope; maybe someone heard our struggle, maybe their screaming for aid.

I realize that the screams are my own when I see Voldemort turn, his terrible, hideous face and evil red eyes staring right at Harry and me. I crawl in front of Harry in the basket, shielding him from Voldemort. He laughs; rage for James and fear for Harry both well up inside me, but the fear wins over, and I beg, not for my own life, but my son's.

"Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything - "

He's right in front of me now, and I'm cornered. His rotten breath fills my nostrils as he speaks.

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" I won't. I can't. The thoughts pierce my brain, and it all seems too real now.

"Not Harry, Not Harry, please not Harry!" I plead. If James can't live in this life, he'll live on through the next in his son, his beautiful, wonderful son, and I'll do anything to make that happen.

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead - " But this time, he pushes me away, and advances slowly on my helpless baby boy. "Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...."

I hear screaming, and this time I know it's me, I know I'm going to die, I know it's real. I know that all I can do now is protect Harry by my own death, shielding him through my love. But now, I wish I were still on the outside looking in.

My own screams fill my ears, drowning out the sound of Harry crying, and of Voldemort laughing. All I hear is screaming, and my own tears blind me.

And then, there is nothing.