The tall lady got up solemnly and walked beside the old man, slowly making progress with each step.  “What they’re saying,” she pressed on, “is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric’s Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are- are- that they’re- dead.” Dumbledore bowed his head as a note of confirmation.  As the pair stopped, McGonagall shut her eyes tightly. As she winced, a series of flashbacks shot through her mind.  

“Potter has the Quaffle! Bit of a ball hog if you ask me! Ooh, a close call with Avery but no! He’s right around the goal-” In the split second, McGonagall’s eyes fluttered from Potter to Lily Evans. Her hair whipped in the wind as she stood grinning in the Gryffindor stands. Focusing on Potter now, she watched him hurl the Quaffle straight through the middle hoop.  Excitedly turning to Slughorn, with the ghost of a smirk of pride in her smile, she heard over the loudspeakers, “...and TEN POINTS to Gryffindor!”

“Who can name the five principles of ex-”  As her eyes, glancing over the tired student crowd, found Lily Evans, she sighed in dismay.  “Am I boring you, Miss Evans?” Snapping out of a seemingly harmful daze, the thirteen year-old’s hair flipped wildly as she shook to look up at the Professor.  “Oh, sorry, Professor. It’s just that I was up so late last night for an essay for Potions,” the genuinely apologetic redhead replied.  “Well, perhaps if you spent just as much time in Transfiguration,” McGonagall began, a rather stern expression imprinted on her face, eyebrows raised, “Mr. Potter wouldn’t be outscoring you in my class.” Staring furiously at the Professor, Lily sat up straight as McGonagall continued to lecture them.

“One would hope Gryffindor wins their next match, given the amount of class time Mr. Potter has dedicated to his play book and not the task at hand,” the emerald cloaked witch raised her eyebrows as she made her way to James Potter’s seat.  “James...,” Remus nudged James in his rib before turning back to his long piece of parchment.  “Oh, wha- um, Crinus Muto!” the boy exclaimed, as his hair turned a rather interesting shade of dark purple.  Sighing, McGonagall scolded him, “We passed that assignment ten minutes ago, Mr. Potter. If you were paying attention like, say, Miss Evans here, you might actually have two feet of your homework done by now.”

As Professor McGonagall entered the Common Room, little did anyone notice. A cheering crowd surrounded James, as Fabian and Gideon Prewett supported him on his back and began to surf him above the crowds.  “Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” the boys chanted as the confetti sparkling in the air. A table lodged with every kind of food you could imagine was now being attacked hungrily by Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.  “Rather loud isn’t it, Professor?” Snapping out of a daze, McGonagall turned around to find a fourteen year-old girl standing there with dark red hair and sparkling green eyes. Lily Evans.  “Oh, yes, Miss Evans- but it is for the better... Fourth year in a row!” the Professor smiled with pride.  “Amazing, though, that Black hasn’t stopped eating yet,” the girl conversed, her eyes finding the young boy stuffing his mouth with treacle tarts.  Chuckling, McGonagall replied, “Mr. Black needs to calm down- he may just choke himself again!” Sirius found Lily’s eyes, winked, and then returned to the tarts filling his mouth to the brim.  

Biting her lip, Lily shut her eyes closed as she lay on the loveseat of the Gryffindor Common Room, by the fire. It was nearly three in the morning, everyone else soundly asleep in their comfy beds. Why? Just why? Was he embarrassed? By me? A stinking Mudblood- that’s all I ever was to him. A pawn to be “friends” with but in the end, he just wants to join them, join the Death Eaters.  “Lily...,” a sympathetic voice rang into her ears. She kept her eyes shut, releasing her bottom lip from her teeth’s clutches.  “I’ve seen you grow into a very talented young witch, Miss Evans,” the voice began, which Lily had now identified as McGonagall’s.  “Don’t let them get you down, they don’t matter, stay positive, Miss Evans. Stay happy for it’s what many love about you,” and with that, footsteps on the hollow wood floor wandered away until it was nothing but silent again.  Little did Lily know that McGonagall shook her head as a note to the boy sitting in the dark on the first few steps of the boys dormitories, telling him not to come, before he continued watching her as she thought angrily and fell asleep. And that that boy was James Potter. And that it was him who lay the cotton blanket on her to keep her warm that night.

“Thank you, dearly, every single one of you,” James began, glancing sideways at Lily, “for being here, on the happiest day of our lives,” They gazed at each other just before Sirius burst out laughing.  “Deer-ly!” he managed to sputter out as every guest wore a confused expression. Lily and James exchanged a knowing smile with Remus, Peter, and each other before waving Sirius’s loud guffaws down.  “And now, for dinner!” Magically, platters of food appeared on each and every table and chatter filled the room. Towards the middle of the magical feast, a champagne glass was gently tapped on, ringing into the room as the chatter faded away.  Professor McGonagall stood with her glass of wine and began, “I have seen these two from their youngest ages, back when they used to despise each other- at least one of them did. They are definitely the happiest couple I have seen in ages, always there for each other. I just want to say, it’s about time you’re getting married! Now, to wishing Mr. and Mrs. Potter a wonderful life together with plenty of joys!”  Everyone raised their glasses. There was no way they would know that just a few years later, the wizard that they feared most of all, would destroy them. Leaving their son to be brought up an orphan.

“MInerva...,” the tall wizard began, as McGonagall snapped out of her daze.  "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." the Professor shook. Dumbledore reached out his frail hand and patted her gently on the shoulder.  “I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But -- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone.”  Dumbledore nodded glumly as a sign of confirmation.  “We may never know...,”  

Later that night all the poor old lady could do was cry. Lily and James Potter, those poor young wizards. It was a horror for her to think about- her two favorite students gone just like that. After all she had been there from the beginning, back when they despised each other, and she had knew all along that they were meant to be happy together. Meant to be without a dark wizard destroying their lives with two words. Meant to live with joys and their son Harry, and maybe more children To watch those children grow.

Meant to be alive for more than just 21 years.