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My husband is dead downstairs. Even as Lily runs around and tries to calm down Harry, gripping her wand tight in hand, the thought keeps repeating itself in her head, ringing it with how loud it is. My husband is dead downstairs. Harry’s father is dead downstairs. James is dead. No matter how she thinks of it, she can’t quite seem to make sense of it. She has been forced into this war when she was just 17, she has lost friends to it, some even killed by older no-longer friends. She shouldn’t be shell shocked. This war has been plaguing her world for so long, herself in particular for four years.
All she wants to do right now is buckle, to fall to her knees on the floor and mourn her love and her life.
James is dead. This wasn’t meant to happen. They were warned. They hid to protect themselves. They distanced themselves from friends, from family.
Wait.
They hid. No one knew where-
How did he-
Oh. Peter, what have you done?
In her rush and fear, Lily hadn’t allowed herself the courtesy of thinking through how this has happened. Now for just a second, Lily tried to rationalize it. It is known Peter is a friend of the Potters, he could have been caught and forcibly questioned. Even still, Dumbledores voice rings louder in her head, the Fidelius Charm is a favorite amongst noble houses. It is impossible to coerce the information out of it’s keeper.
Oh, Merlin. Even with the heartbreaking realization happening, there is no time, the Dark Lord is just downstairs. Lily understood she did not have time to run. He was close enough to follow and Lily had a better chance making a final stand in her home than on the run.
She had an advantage in her house, it has only been home for a few months but she still knows it better than the Dark Lord does. She needs any advantage she can take in this case.
Carefully she placed Harry into his crib. Leaning down, Lily pressed a kiss to her sons forehead, brushing his wild jet black hair back with a stroke of her palm. “Mommy loves you, Harry. Always remember that.” With one last small smile to her son, her darling boy who looks so like his father, Lily turned away and rushed around the nursery gathering her supplies
The nursery, as the place Lily was meant to leave her child unattended, is the most heavily warded area in the house, including some experimental ones that she never did mention to James. Wards are usually powered by a low amount of magic pulled from the wixen who casted it, at all times. The amount pulled was low enough to not cause any ill effects to the caster but still, in times of war Lily figured she would rather have her magic stores as full as possible to protect herself and her family.
After finding out this particular piece of magical theory, Lily looked into alternate methods, experimenting on powering wards with other means. As a muggleborn her first thought was electricity but after a few rather sparky experiments she determined that the mixing of the two powers was more volatile than helpful. She hit a wall with any other possibilities until after Hogwarts. After marrying James, and being given leave to explore his old family library she found a book by a Charlus Potter dictating his experiments of the effects of strong emotions on spell casting.
A strong enough emotion could change how a spell performs, sometimes it can even make it an entirely different color, but usually it can strengthen or weaken the casting power. A Bombarda when angry would cause a larger explosion. A Protego casted while scared and cowering would not hold up against as many spells. Most of his findings were centered around more negative emotions, anger, rage, wrath, but it did open Lily’s mind to another option, what if she could power a ward through her strength of emotion. Surge magic into a ward, one specific to a person not a place, and try to make it dependent on her emotions. Hypothetically, as long as she felt strongly for them it should protect them.
If nothing else, Lily figured it was worth a try. One major problem she kept finding in all of her theories were the amount of initial magic that would be required. She could admit that she was powerful for her age, but enough to kickstart a wardstone was a lot even for her. The amount of magic she would need would probably kill her. It would be a good last resort if nothing else. Lily still hoped she wouldn’t need it. She should have known better than to hope.
The ritual necessary to activate the ward laid set up in Harry’s nursery. Sitting there ready, just in case, for months, simply waiting for the right magic to trigger it.
Lily focused again as the footsteps that had been haunting her every thought finally stopped at the top of the stairs. In this simple cottage in Godrics Hollow there were only three doors upstairs, a bathroom, master bedroom and the nursery. If they had been at Potter Manor it would have taken the Dark Lord outside time to find the right room. But they weren’t, they left to hide. Fat lot of good that did. Lily allowed herself the sardonic comment before concentrating. Lily listened as the Lord opened the doors down the hall, the old home squeaking, announcing his every move.
Lily gathered herself as she heard him approach the door and watched as his shadow darkened the crack below the door. The door creaked as he turned the knob and pushed it open before he appeared in the doorway. There he stood, his black cloak covering his entire body and reaching to the floor, hood thrown over his head. His wand arm was raised and pointed at her.
“Get out of my way, mudblood.” He spat at her, a sneer prominent on his lips.
“No. You cannot have him.” Lily tried to sound strong. Do not yield. You were the smartest witch of your year, you’ve stood up to bullies before, that is all he is, just one very powerful, evil bully. Lily tried to assure herself. Your son is behind you. The reminder enforced her resolve.
“Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside now!” If she was to die, Lily wanted to die fighting, anything other than just standing here, but she was the last barrier between her son and the evil that has haunted her world for years. I will not move.
“No! Not Harry, please no!” She could not truely engage with him, not only was she guarding someone but if Harry was going to have any chance, her magic stores could not be depleted, as they undoubtedly would be after a exchanging blows with the Dark Lord. Decision made for her by her circumstances, Lily remained planted, me for my son, a fair trade anyday.
“Take me, kill me instead! Not Harry! Have mercy, please! Have merc-” Her last words were cut off in a scream as a shot of green shot out of the Dark Lords wand, hitting her in the chest making her twist and fall. The last thing she knew was the sound of wicked laughter sounding off while looking into the teary eyes of her son, standing in his crib.
As the lights faded and all of her senses fell away, she still fell with the faintest sense of hope, she felt her magic drain and reach towards the empty wardstone she had built into the bottom of the crib. She hoped it would protect her son. Sirius will look after him. Sirius will find him. He’ll be okay.
He’ll be okay.