"What do you mean she's missing?" James asks; his mouth is open and his eyes are wide in horror. All the color drains from his skin and it now stands out, harsh against the black curls falling in his eyes. He pushes them back angrily; Lily keeps telling him he needs to cut his hair. When Dumbledore says nothing but bows is head, James stands up knocking the chair he was in over with a loud thump. He slams the left side of his fist against the desk, "What do you mean she's missing?"

"Calm down, mate." Sirius says from the couch behind James that's near the fire. James picks up the nearest object he can find - a glass - and throws it. It smashes against the stone lining of the hearth as he whirls around, walks over to his friend, and lifts him by the collar of his shirt. "Don't you fucking tell me to calm down." Sirius doesn't react. He knows this is a coping mechanism. James is pissed because he's terrified.

James let's go of Sirius and turns on his former Headmaster. "Tell me you're joking, Albus." He swallows back a sudden lump in his throat and steps up to the old mans' desk, suddenly overcome with an intense tremor throughout his body. "Tell me she's just late. Tell me she just went straight home instead of checking back here. Tell me something - anything - but that." He isn't angry anymore. His voice is shaking. He's clearly terrified. That's the thing about James… he doesn't crack under pressure, so in the instant when he is actually scared, everyone should be worried. Peter's stomach drops, Remus' chest twists, Sirius holds his breath. It's a chain reaction with those four. Not a thing that happens to one doesn't happen to another.

Lily was his, but they were all missing her.

James paces burn holes in the rug as he chews on his thumb, pulls on his hair. "Where was she when you last saw her?" Everyone is silent. In truth, no one could remember. Lily had been at breakfast that morning, her mission started at ten. She should be back by now. She should be here. She should be safe and free from harm and perfectly, absolutely fine. James crouches, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The weight of possibility hits him in the head like a truck and he suddenly feels like his head is going to come apart if he doesn't hold it together himself. The pain is blinding. What are they doing to her? If she's going to die, God please let it be painless. "Like falling asleep," his mother told him when they spoke of his father's passing several years before.

"Was he in a lot of pain?"
"No. He actually told me he was feeling a bit better."
"So it didn't hurt."
"Must've been like falling asleep."

This is war though not a curse that's been in motion for four years. If she was captured by Death Eater's they will rip her apart hair by hair, nail by nail. James gags and leans forward muttering various choice words under his breath. This can't be happening. This is absolute, complete - for lack of a better word - bullshit. If this is a test to see how much he can handle, whoever is doing the testing wins. He doesn't want to feel like this ever again. It's like an elephant parking itself right on his back. The room around him is deadly silent. He could be the only one there. And he feels like it too: alone. The woman he loves is missing in action. But she isn't dead. He just isn't going to accept that. Not yet anyway. Where the fuck is Lily?

There is a crack! from in the kitchen and James's head snaps up. There is some shuffling and a cough. A very familiar cough. James bolts to his feet and books it to the door, bursting into the small yellow-tiled room that smells of burnt toast and antiseptic. She is bracing a chair, trying her very hardest to stay upright. She is beaten and bloody, pale and turning slightly green. She looks as though she could collapse any second but she's alive. Her knees buckle and he darts to her side, sinking to the floor with her in his firm grasp. Her head rests on his legs, one of his hands behind her head as he moves knotted strands of hair from her ashen face. Her shocked, shocking green eyes stare up at him, her mouth slightly open, her body beginning to tremble in his lap. "Thank Merlin- Thank God," he whispers putting his warm hand to her frozen cheek, "You're alive."

There's two parts to this. This one and one in Lily's point of view. It's all very vague, but it's supposed to be. So I suppose I'm simply asking you not to turn your nose up because it's not extraneously detailed.

I think you'll enjoy it either way. (:

Part two coming soon. xox.