Because she was Lily and he was James, they were perfectly complete and completely imperfect. She was the stars in the cool night sky, his reason for waking up and fighting on. He was the sun, a bright constant, a reason she never gave up hope, no matter how bad, how dark, how terrifying it got. But sometimes stars die out, and sometimes the sun burns too brightly, scorching all it can reach.

They were only children when they promised forever. They thought they knew everything. They thought they were safe. He would never find them. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named would never reach them, Sirius would see to that. But being their Secret Keeper terrified him. What if he broke down and told him where they were? He begged them to change it to someone, anyone but him. They agreed. They chose the only other person they could trust.

They trusted the wrong person.

The rat ran home to his sewer and presented this last piece of information to his master. His master was pleased with his servant's work. So, on that fateful night, he arrived on their doorstep. James, brave reckless stupid James, tried to protect his wife and their child. He was cut down without a second thought. Lily begged, pleaded, prayed that he would just leave her son alone. "Take me instead!" She sobbed. Voldemort murdered her; she was only a Mudblood after all. Of the three Potters, the youngest and weakest proved to be Voldemort's downfall. While the wizarding world rejoiced, those who remembered the two bright, vibrant, fearless teenagers mourned. Never again would they smile at their son. Never again would they laugh with friends. Never again would they utter that blessed phrase.

"I love you."

It was all for Harry. They had to protect their child. What parent wouldn't do what they did? What parent wouldn't lay down their life for their beloved, perfect, innocent, child? They knew it was useless, but they still tried. They still hoped. After all, that's all they had left. Hope was their shield in this foreign land.

Because they were only James and Lily, two star crossed lovers from a dark, twisted hell. How does the sun stop shining? How do the stars disappear? How can they exist apart if they were meant to exist together? How can two people who fit together so perfectly, ever be apart?

Even though it was only thirty seconds, Lily Potter felt empty without her husband by her side. She knew he was dead when she ran up the stairs with little securely Harry in her arms. Those thirty seconds felt like an eternity.

Because they were only ever Lily and James, two fiercely loyal, recklessly brave teenagers trying to protect the innocent from unspeakable evil. The Sorting Hat knew they were destined for greatness, but also for terrible tragedy too. After all, they were a bit too loyal, and maybe too brave. They couldn't see that their best friend was holding a knife to their necks. They couldn't see what was right in front of them.

So on that fateful Halloween night, while the world rejoiced, four people mourned the loss of the sun and stars. Professor Minerva McGonagall mourned her two favorite students. Remus Lupin mourned for his best friends, the two people who still loved him even though they knew what he was. Professor Albus Dumbledore mourned for the brightest students of their age. Rubeus Hagrid mourned for the two people who didn't care if he was part giant; they only cared about his heart. Sirius Black mourned for the two people he cared most for in the world. Without them, everything was darkness to him. Maybe that's why he went after that rat, Pettigrew. Maybe he wanted to avenge their deaths.

Because after all, they were James and Lily, his two best friends in the whole wide world.