Last Glance of Green

October 31, 1981

"Harry looks tired," I remarked with a gentle smile. My little son was curled up on the couch between Lily and I, face pressed up against his mother's lap. Lily, with a maternal smile, quietly stroked his messy hair in loving rhythm. I smiled at them both, feeling blessed even during the raging war against the darkness.

"We should put him to bed," Lily murmured softly, not wanting to wake the little angel. She planted a gentle kiss on the boy's cheek, her red hair sliding over Harry's black, providing a sharp contrast.

"Poor boy, all that wrestling with the broom left him exhausted," I muttered with a grin, pleased that my son was fond of a broomstick as me.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Lily said with a little quirk of her brow. "Carry him up to the nursery then."

"As you wish, Mrs. Potter," I answered with a wide grin. "Your wish is my command."

"It better be," she uttered under her breath.

I leaned over little Harry and with a grunt, lifted his body and slung him over my shoulder like a little sack of potatoes. I started towards the stairs with Lily behind me, flickering off all the lights when suddenly, our tranquil contentedness was interrupted with a loud bang.

"James!" Lily breathed, her voice full with worry, the emerald eyes wide with fright. We stood stock still for a moment, our ears twitching for just a hint of a sound. A wisp of silence passed by before I heard a little click from the backdoor.

"Run Lily! It's him!" I bellowed, not caring how loud I was. "Take Harry and run!"

She looked bewildered and I was afraid she would lose her wits, but she grabbed Harry from my shoulders and rushed up the stairs, not having any other place to run to. Just before she disappeared from my view, I whispered a quiet "I love you." I knew it would be my last.

I pulled out my wand from my pocket and gripped it tightly. I could feel every fiber of the wood between my fingers. I stood still, waiting for the Voldemort to come to me. And he came.

"James Potter," the cold, metallic voice hissed.

"Voldemort," I answered back confidently, when in reality, I did not feel confident at all.

Without another pathetic waste of breath, he shot a spell towards my direction. The green told me it was the Killing Curse. He wasn't wanting any torture today; he wanted to kill, and only kill.

"Protego!" I roared as if the Shield Charm could protect me. I knew it couldn't, but it was good to try. Voldemort, however, wasn't in the mood. He pulled himself up to full height and with a last snarl, he hissed:

"Avada Kedavra."

The last thing that filled my eyes was that sinister, eerie green, wrapping around my line of vision and soon, would pronounce me dead.

Fin.