@jcmespotter
Lily spent nearly two years in hiding with her husband and son after Sybill Trelawney’s prophecy. It was far from easy, but one silver lining had been always knowing that the two most important people in the world to her were never any further away than a few rooms. She didn’t realize how much comfort she found in that certainty until the war ended and she didn’t have it anymore. Leaving Harry to go to work was hard. Coming home to a house devoid of James’ frenetic energy felt wrong. It certainly didn’t help that James had been working overtime since the Azkaban break out.
These days, Lily spent her evenings listening for the sound of the door opening, the tread of James’ footsteps on the stairs, half afraid it would never come. She distracted herself by puttering around the house, cleaning and tidying and cooking. She wrapped herself in James’ sweaters and played with Harry. She tried to read and refilled their stock of household potions. But the entire time, she was listening.
Tonight found her sitting in the chair in Harry’s room, humming softly, even though the boy was long since asleep, and attempting to knit. Molly Weasley had inspired her to take up the hobby, but learning was slow going, especially when she was only half paying attention to her work. When she heard the unmistakable sounds of James getting home, Lily let out the breath she so often seemed to be holding these days. She set the misshapen lump of her knitting aside and by the time James reached the top of the stairs she was waiting for him outside Harry’s door.
“How was work, anything new?” She didn’t bother to hide the fear and apprehension that colored her voice.
