Lily Potter sat on the couch of her cottage in Godric's Hollow, watching her husband James play with their one year old son, Harry. She unconsciously put a hand on her barely there baby bump.
"This one's a girl, James. I can feel it." She said happily.
"What do you think for a name then?" James asked, eyes twinkling.
"Severus said Bella. I don't like it though." Lily crinkled her nose.
"Padfoot didn't have a say in naming Harry, why should Snivellus have a say in naming this one? Just because he's godfather?" James said, saying Snivellus with slight edge.
"Alright, alright!" Lily laughed, putting her hands up. "It's time for Harry to go to bed." She scooped up her son, leaving her wand sitting on the end table.
"Lily." Said James suddenly, not moving a muscle. "It's him! He's here! Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off!" Lily's eyes widened, and she ran upstairs with her son. At the last moment, she remembered her wand.
"Shit." She cursed, looking around Harry's room for anything that could help. If only Dumbledore hadn't taken the cloak. There was nothing. Nothing magical in her son's room. Se said Harry in the crib, whispering to him.
Harry, I love you.
You are so loved.
Mummy loves you.
Daddy loves you.
"Move aside!" A voice yelled. Lily whipped around and saw a cloaked figure in the doorway, wand raised. James. James was dead.
"No! Not Harry." Lily said firmly, trying not to let her fear show.
"No, no. It must be the boy." Voldemort said lazily, twirling his wand.
"Take me instead. Not. Harry." Lily said, her eyes burning with a mixture of tears and fury.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled the curse, the flash of green appeared, and Lily Potter's consciousness floated away.
