disclaimer: i own nothing but my own tears at this concept.

–

(alternate universe; october thirty-first, nineteen eighty-one)

he told her to run. he could hold voldemort off for a moment. a moment that could spare her. spare harry. if lily could only get him to harry before voldemort killed james. what james hadn't expected, however, was for voldemort not to bother killing him. he expected to die, he was willing to do so for his son and wife. yet it didn't make a difference in the end.

voldemort petrified him before continuing his way upstairs to where lily and harry were. to harry's bedroom where lily potter wept over her husband who she had assumed died when she heard his fall.

voldemort didn't speak as she began to plead with him to spare her child. he petrified her too–he didn't have time for silly games and to be forced to listen to the pleas of mortals. lily and james potter would serve to be examples of what happened to those who refused him. he would not have mercy with them. he would punish them for their rejection of him, for their disobedience.

the child who had been guarded by his mother looked up at him with brilliant green eyes, perhaps wondering why neither his mother nor father were coming to his rescue.

'they think you can defeat me?' voldemort's voice caused the child to start crying, pleading for his mother or father.

voldemort gave him something better. with a flick of his wand, harry potter was dead.

what voldemort hadn't expected, however, was for the curse to not only hit the child, but hit himself as well.

the spell eventually wore off of james, who quickly grabbed his wand from where he had originally left it that night, he grabbed lily's wand from the kitchen as well. he climbed up the stairs, dreading what he would find it that room. he hadn't seen the demon come back down.

he opened the door to harry's bedroom. the bedroom they had spent weeks decorating once they found out the sex of their child. the room where lily and james came into every night and every morning. the room where lily had marked the size of harry's hand every month with a weird muggle substance called 'paint.'

the room where he saw his wife coming slowly walking to their son's cot and picking him up.

'lil,' his voice was soft, but he was scared to admit that he was terrified. terrified to find out how the body in her arms was.

'jamie?' her voice was vulnerable, lost. yet there seemed to be a sense of relief in those eyes. a relief that he wasn't dead.

he walked towards her, a hand reaching to touch her face. to touch her and confirm that she was real.

'james?' he saw the tears forming in her eyes, tears that he started wiping away. he ignored the bundle in her hands. he couldn't be dead if james ignored it. 'james, i think he's dead.'

dead. but how could he be, james wanted to argue, but deep down he knew the truth. his son was dead.

he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. letting the tears fall down his face as she began to sob, moving her face into his chest. 'he's dead, james, dead!'

he couldn't say anything. what could he say to make this better? harry was dead. he was their hope, their reason for continuing to fight. and he was gone.

they sunk to the floor, crying in each other's arms with the corpse between them. that's all they could do.

dumbledore showed up that night, their home was ruined–both physically and emotionally. sirius was next. he explained to dumbledore how they had switched the secret keeper, how they had trusted peter. how peter betrayed them. yet all james felt was emptiness as he stroked his son's hair, emptiness as he kissed his son's forehead. emptiness as he held lily close to him, mumbling lies about how they would be all right.

parents shouldn't have to watch as their baby is put in a casket and lowered into the ground. a husband shouldn't have to hold their wife up to keep them from fainting at the sight of their child's corpse. a godfather shouldn't have to watch his godson be buried a few days after he turned twenty-two. a wife shouldn't have to hear the condolences from people who only cared that voldemort was gone not that her son was dead.

yet they did.

and they kept living their lives, kept loving and protecting one another, kept celebrating harry's birthday and celebrating the day he died. each year imagining what harry would have been like, what his favourite subject would have been.

'happy birthday, har,' james said looking into the room in their new home that they had assigned as harry's.

'happy fifth birthday,' lily whispered from behind him, still in his old quidditch jersey that she used as her sleepwear.

'hullo, love,' he said softly.

'james,' she said the four words that everyone hated hearing, 'we have to talk.'

'what about?' he asked slowly taking her hand in his and leading them into the living-room.

she sighed, 'i don't know if today's the right time to tell you.'

'is it bad news then,' he sat her in his lap, snuggling into her neck. he needed the comfort today. he needed to have lily close, to know she was okay. he took a deep breath, inhaling her floral smell in the process.

'debatable,' she ran one of her hands gently through his hair.

'what is it, lil?'

she tilted his face up to look at her, 'i'm pregnant.'

james didn't know how to feel. should he be happy for another child? sad at the reminder that harry would never get to know this new sibling?

'how do you feel?' he asked instead.

'i don't know.' and he understood completely.

and so their daughter was born in may. they named her emma after james' mother euphemia. and their home once more held a beautiful child. a child with lily's red hair and james' hazel eyes.

'she's beautiful,' sirius said. he tried not to let it show around strangers he met on the street, but he missed his godson everyday. here he knew he was safe. he could show his sadness to the only ones who felt just as he had. 'harry would have loved her.'

lily and james were quiet for a moment as they looked at their daughter. 'yeah, he would have.'

'so emma lily potter,' remus said, 'quite a name.'

'yeah, she's named after the two strongest women i have ever known.' james kissed his wife gently on the head.

'i love you,' lily said as she began to drift off to sleep, emma still in her arms.

'i love you too.'

they had another little boy two years later. both were loved so much by their parents. because if that's the one thing that harry showed them, it's that while love cannot overcome everything, it makes it more bearable. and loving their children was truly magical.

they didn't understand why their mother cried on hallowe'en or why their father would go quiet. they didn't understand why there was a room in their house with baby things that didn't belong to either of them and the only answer their parents gave was that it was 'harry's.' they didn't understand why strangers would tell their parents they were sorry. they didn't understand why their parents would send them to uncle sirius' or uncle remus' on july thirty-first, so they could spend some 'time alone' as their uncles referred to it as.

but one day they would. and one day they would realise what their parents had lost and that their brother was a hero. but until that day, they would keep on living.

–

a.n: so.. did you cry? i did. this was emotional for me. but this is my third update today. be proud of me. i'm now halfway through the prompts and the story. maybe a happy one is next but probably not. we'll see.