A/N: Today marks the 30th anniversary of James and Lily Potter's sacrifice for Harry. I had to write something.

It's a tribute to Lily and James, but it's dedicated to LilyPotter60 because I know what they mean to you, and I know you're staying up when your bed is calling. I hope it's not too disappointing.

Till Death Do Us Apart

"Are you afraid of death?"

The question rings clear in his mind, echoing through his thoughts over and over in synchronization with the frantic beat of his heart. He can't place the question to a memory, but with every beat of his heart, he feels the desperate need to remember intensify.

No, he thinks. I'm not afraid of death. He can't remember what memory the words belong to, or why it's important, but he forces it aside. There are more pressing matters at hand.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

He doesn't know how he manages to get the words out. He should be confused, but his mind is working ten times faster than usual, as if his body is somehow aware that he has only seconds to live. He supposes that's why his mind skips over the confusion he should be feeling, and right away provides him with the answer he's looking for. It's like a punch to the stomach, the way it knocks the air out of him. Peter has betrayed him, betrayed them all. If he had the time, he would be angry, hurt, disappointed. But he doesn't, and he can't let the bitter stabs of betrayal consume him, not now. The last thought he spares the matter almost makes him laugh: I should have known better than to trust a rat over a dog.

Instinctively, he reaches for his back pocket to draw his wand. He can almost hear the thud of his stomach hitting the floor as he realizes his pocket is empty. The chill radiating from the man- if he can be considered that- spreads through him, and he knows that Voldemort has realized the same thing he has: He is wandless. If he had the time, he would be angry at himself for such stupidity, but he doesn't. As he looks up at that cold, expressionless face, James knows only one thing, and he knows it with utmost certainty. He is going to die.

It is as if at that moment the world stills, giving him time to think, but not to act. He feels as if he is in a nightmare, the kind where you know exactly what you need to do, but you can't. He is powerless to what happens next. James knows he can't stop him. All he can do is buy Lily a little bit more time, a little bit more of a chance to save herself and their son. He hopes with everything in him that she gets to Harry in time and gets out, because if she doesn't, he has failed to fulfill his one duty as a husband and as a father: to protect his family.

He thinks of Sirius and Remus. He is going to die without saying goodbye to them, without making sure they are okay, without reminding Sirius one more time that he is different from his family and without reminding Remus that he is worth it, no matter what anyone says. He is going to die before he has the chance to thank them for being the best brothers he could have asked for. In that split second, he relives every single memory and laughs at every single joke again. He is grateful for every single second with them. But he is breaking, because he will never get another. He loves them with everything in him and he hopes for nothing but the absolute best for them, because they deserve that and nothing less. He hopes they know that. But mostly, he is sorry, because he knows they need him, and he is leaving them.

He thinks of Harry. Harry, who is going to grow up without a father. And he realizes then that he is going to miss the look of wonder on his son's face as he opens his Hogwarts letter. He won't be able to offer him reassuring words to quell his nerves as he boards the Hogwarts express, won't be able to wave goodbye to him as the train disappears into a tiny speck in the distance. He is never going to see Harry play Quidditch, and he is never going to be able to take him to games with his friends like he had always imagined he would. He won't even get the chance to learn what his favourite subjects, colours, music, and teams are. He is going to miss Harry's entire life. He won't be able to give Harry anything that he should as a father, and once again, the feeling of failure washes over him. He hopes that Harry can forgive him, that he understands this was all for him. He prays to God, to Merlin, to the bloody clouds in the sky, whatever higher power there is, to keep his son happy and safe. I love you more than anything in the world.

And then he thinks of Lily. The single most important person in his life. He thinks of how much he loves her, how much he wishes they had more time together, how much he hopes she'll make it through this. He thinks of every walk by the lake at midnight, every pointless argument, every secret smile and every stolen kiss. He remembers everything, from pulling her braid when they were twelve, to catching his breath as he watched her walk down the aisle. Till death do us part, a voice in his mind whispers, and then something in his memory clicks.

"Are you afraid of death?"

Her voice is beautiful, delicate,years away in his memory. And suddenly, he's seventeen again. He's back at Hogwarts, back before the mischief in his eyes was replaced by constant worry, back to laying on that blanket with his hands folded behind his head, eyes closed behind his glasses, the feel of Lily sitting next to him on every inch of his skin.

He remembers now. He remembers with striking clarity, the memory as vivid as if it had happened only moments before. And it may as well have, because what is time when you're inches away from death?

"No," he responds. "I'm not afraid of death." Lily can see that he didn't even give it a thought.

"No?" she questions. She watches as James opens his eyes, and focuses them on her. He watches her silently for a moment, and he sees the genuine curiosity on her face, but that's not why he sits up and elaborates. It's the fear he sees in her eyes, the fear he knows she's trying desperately to hide. He's going to quench that fear.

"Death," he says as he sits up and moves closer to her, "is a victory."

She's confused, he knows, but he lets her think the statement over. His gaze wanders to the sky. The night is clear and warm, a slight breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees. He vaguely notes that the moon is almost full, and a small smile tugs at his lips. He takes in the beautiful array of stars, and they fill him with thoughts of beauty and innocence and peace, and he almost forgets that they are at war.

"A victory?" Lily asks at last, and her voice breaks his thoughts. It's a moment before he remembers what they were talking about. He smiles at her, and nods. "But if you die, isn't it like losing? What if you don't get to do all the things that you wanted to do?"

"We're at war. And when I die, I plan to go fighting. I'm going to fight for Sirius and Remus and Peter, for my family, for you, for every single person that's been affected. You're fighting, too. Even if it's not actual combat, you're fighting. Defiance is a fight. As long as you don't give in, you're fighting. And I know for a fact that you will never give in. You're so bloody stubborn. If you die fighting for what you believe in and for people you love, haven't you done everything you ever needed to do? It's not too early then, is it? You've already served your purpose. You die fighting, and it's a battle won. That's why death is a victory."

Lily stares at him in awe for a moment. A victory. He knows she's never thought of it like that before, and the glint in her eyes tells him she understands, and she agrees.

Looking back up at the sky, he points at one star in particular, the brightest against the dark backdrop of the night. "Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. Sirius points it out every chance he gets. Our star, he calls it. The Marauders star."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asks. There's a smile on her lips that he decides is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Everything, Lily."

For him, everything is a game that he wants to win. Death is a victory, and that is where his questions and his fears end. But he knows that it's not the same for her, that there's more to it than just the fear of failure. "What are you afraid of when you think about death?" he asks. He already knows the answer, but she needs to tell him for this to make sense to her. He almost laughs at the surprise on her face, the instant denial in her eyes. Eventually, she realizes she can't lie. Not to James.

"It's... well you've already said death is a victory, so I guess I'm not really scared of dying. It's more like- I'm afraid of being left alone if the people I love die."

He nods. That's what he'd been looking for. "You can see Sirius, the star, from pretty much anywhere," he tells her. She looks at him curiously. "If you were at Hogwarts and I was a thousand miles away from here, and we both looked up at the sky, we would both still see the same star. So, would you really be alone?"

Lily is thoughtful for a moment. A breeze blows through her auburn curls, and he catches a stray strand, tucking it behind her ear as she answers. "No, I guess not."

"Exactly. Even though we may not be together, we're both still there. And if clouds covered the star, and you couldn't see it, is it still there?" he asks. She nods. "Lily, death can't throw you into darkness or leave you on your own. It's like the clouds over the star. When someone dies, they don't disappear. They're still there, you just can't see them. They're still looking at Sirius, but from a different place."

"I've never thought about it like that," she says quietly. He knows she's thinking, and he watches in silence. After a long moment, she looks up at him, and her eyes are shining bright. "Death is inevitable," she says. "And for us, it will probably come sooner than we'd like… so will you promise me something, James?"

"Anything."

He can see the courage she builds up before she says the next words, but her voice still cracks. "When you die," she swallows, as if the thought causes her physical pain, before continuing, "remember this night, and look for Sirius. Because where ever I am, I'll be looking for it too. And when I die, I'm going to remember this and I'm going to look for Sirius too. That way, no matter where it happens, how it happens, or when it happens, we'll die together."

He's speechless. He can't explain what he's feeling, he can hardly think coherently, but he nods. "I promise."

Death is a victory. If you die fighting, it's a battle won. He hasn't failed Lily, Harry, Sirius or Remus. He is dying for them, to give them a chance at a better life. This is why Lily wanted him to remember that night. Because she knew he would doubt, and he would need the reassurance. She was always so insightful when it came to him.

So maybe, when he was fifteen and reckless, with that messy black hair and the school at his feet, this wasn't exactly how he imagined he would die. He never got to play professional Quidditch and he never got to travel the world, but he's content to go now. He's going to go fighting for Lily and for Harry, and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

And suddenly, time is moving again. He's standing in front of Voldemort, standing in wait of his death. It doesn't matter to him that he's only twenty-one, with so much to have done, because he's going to die victorious. He knows Voldemort wants him to show fear. But defiance is a fight, and he plans to go fighting. He narrows his eyes, squares his shoulders and straightens his back, and he knows that his message has been sent. I'm the winner here.

He remembers his promise then. He looks outside, and his eyes land on Sirius. With death only a heartbeat away, he feels a comforting warmth consume him, because he knows that Lily will be doing the same, and so will Sirius and Remus, wherever they are. He's not leaving them. Not really.

Before the flash of green light blinds him, and before a blackness so heavy and simultaneously light consumes him, he sees Lily in his mind again. Her wild red hair, her contagious and achingly beautiful smile, her permanently rosy cheeks, the light dusting of freckles on her nose that she hates, and those emerald eyes that always seem to sparkle. He whispers a quick I love you to her, and he sends one last silent prayer for her.

"Will you promise me one more thing?"

"Anything," he says again.

"We'll always be together?"

He smiles, and touches his lips to hers. "Till death do us part, and after."

A/N: Many apologies if that made no sense, I didn't have time to get someone else to read it, because I wanted it posted tonight.

Happy Halloween! Stay safe if you're going out tonight.

Reviews will mend my aching heart.