Lily and Harry arrived at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, where they found seats by the window. Glancing around, Harry saw couples dancing in the back to music. Surprisingly, the shop was less crowded than when he had been there with Cho Chang, a visit filled with uncomfortable memories. Sitting with his mother now felt especially awkward, as she looked ready for battle rather than tea.

Lily gazed out the window, hands folded tensely on the tabletop. The cute decor offered no comfort.

"Mum..."

"The meeting was a disaster," she said slowly. "The Chief Auror is furious, and I'm in trouble." With a heavy sigh, she looked extremely uneasy.

Harry looked anxious, knowing he had botched the meeting for her. If only he had known she had the folder with her then, this debacle could have been avoided.

"Mum, I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have—"

"Do you even realize how humiliating this is for me?" she asked sharply.

Harry swallowed hard and lowered his head. "I know. And I'm so sor—"

"Forget it." Lily cut him off with a stern look. A long, tense pause followed. Harry's heart raced as guilt washed over him.

Lily took a deep, frustrated breath and asked, "So, what else is going on?"

Harry struggled to speak. He fidgeted in his seat before finally saying, "Ron's twin brothers opened a joke shop in Diagon Alley called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I went down there this morning to help out with—"

"Sounds fun," Lily interjected, a glimmer of indifference flashing in her eyes as she gazed at Harry.

An uneasy silence fell between them, punctuated only by the music playing in the background. Harry's eyes drifted to the couples dancing nearby. He vividly recalled seeing a photo of his parents dancing happily in a park together. He turned back to his mother. "Would you like to...dance?" he asked hopefully, thinking it might ease the tension.

"When have you ever seen me dance?" Lily replied coldly.

Clearly their conversation was not going well. Harry decided to change the subject. "So where did you go this afternoon after the meeting?"

"I spent the rest of the day walking around the city, thinking..."

"About?"

"About us," said Lily. Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Lily pressed on, glancing at Harry's troubled expression before adding hastily, "This morning was rough, and that meeting didn't help. But then I met an old man in the elevator, and he helped me realize that despite our problems, we still share a special bond that I should appreciate. Because even with this awful day, you're still important to me."

She paused, then said, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to keep trying, even though I know it's difficult. I really do want us to persevere."

Harry was quiet, needing a moment to comprehend her meaning. They never discussed this, let alone sat together in a coffee shop.

"What do you mean by 'difficult'?" he finally asked, looking worried. "Am I making your life difficult?"

Lily crossed her arms and glared at Harry. "You should know how difficult it is for me to raise you and always look out for your well-being. What do you think your father would say if he were here?"

"But I'm doing my best to help you every day," Harry said quietly. "I'm doing what you want, so I think Dad would be happy."

"He'd be ashamed to see what you've become!" Lily shot back. "You're not strong—you're not working hard enough!"

"That's not true," Harry replied quietly. "I am working hard—"

"You are not! You are weak!" Lily interrupted angrily.

"Is that all I am to you?" Harry asked, a bitter tone creeping into his voice. "I've excelled in my studies - I got the top mark in my class!" he burst out, frustration dripping from every word. "I've been working hard for years. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"You're delusional if you think marks in school make you invincible!" Lily countered, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I didn't mean—" Harry started.

"You're not making any effort to get stronger!" Lily cut him off. "Do you even realize how many are dying while you waste time in that joke shop?"

Harry looked at her pleadingly, desperate for understanding. "I'm doing what I can—"

"It's not enough!" Lily shouted, anger rolling off her in waves. "Your father died to save you! He risked everything for you! How can you take that for granted? He was my rock—the only thing keeping me sane! Do you even care that you took him from me?!"

A wave of overwhelming sadness and hurt hung over Harry. He could feel pent-up emotion rising in his chest. His mother seemed to have erected an invisible barrier between them. He felt sick; this wasn't how things were supposed to be. They should have been celebrating.

"Why can't you even see what I'm trying to do?" Harry's eyes welled with tears, his voice quivering slightly. "I'm doing all this for you! Why can't you be proud of me for once? Why can't you come talk to me and be happy even for just a second?"

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"I do talk to you—"

"Do you?" Harry interjected more forcefully, sadness lacing his words. All the troubles that had been weighing on him came crashing down at once—the fact that Lily refused to share anything about James or open up to Harry, which had been tormenting him for ages, and her distance from everyone.

“You rarely open up to me about your feelings or your relationship with Dad. You forgot about my school assembly, which was important to me. When we encountered my best friends, you acted uncomfortable and avoided interacting with them, as if they had something contagious.”

Harry stopped and sighed heavily, thinking that it was pointless to continue.

"Mum, I know you mean well, but I feel like just another Auror case to be solved, not your son," Harry said, his voice cracking as tears filled his eyes. "The worst part is, I'm getting used to it."

Lily's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking up to see the hurt on her son's face.

Grief consumed Harry, overwhelming his entire being. "If only we'd had one day, Mum... one day when nothing mattered except you and me."

Lily sat silent and stunned for a long moment.

"I'm going home," Harry whispered loudly as he rose and wiped away his tears.

Clinging to his last shred of hope, he looked at his mother and asked, "I saw you earlier at Quality Quidditch Supplies. What were you doing there?"

"Work," Lily replied simply.

That was the last straw for Harry. Unable to bear the hurt any longer, he shed tears and left the restaurant, turning his back on his mother.

A few couples watched Lily curiously and whispered among themselves after witnessing a young man flee. It was painful to see. Some overheard the conversation and shot Lily disapproving looks, while others simply shook their heads.

Lily inhaled deeply and pressed her hands to her head, looking dejected. She had never intended for the night with her son to go so wrong. Why did everything have to be this way? She thought back to their conversation, recalling how she had told Harry he wasn't strong enough and that his father would be ashamed. I never meant to say those things! Lily cursed herself. She couldn't believe she had spoken to her child so callously, as if it were normal. And now her son had grown accustomed to her verbal abuse, and she hadn't even noticed.

Lily took a deep breath, thinking of her son. She knew she had to pull herself together and make things right.

The mood inside the shop abruptly shifted as the music stopped and all eyes nervously darted to the windows. Muffled shouts, screams, and panicked footsteps filtered in from outside, punctuated by sporadic pops before an uneasy silence fell.

A frightened man burst into the shop, shouting, "Someone's been attacked!"

Lily shot to her feet, a chill racing down her spine. No!

She rushed from the shop, eyes frantically scanning the dim street, unsure where to turn. People fled across the street, escaping shadowy figures that stalked from the darkness —Death Eaters.

Lily bolted down the street, wand raised, just in time to see the gaunt, skull-like face of Bellatrix Lestrange twist into an evil grin. With a merciless cackle, the dark witch Disapparated. Lily's heart raced as she turned the corner.

Someone was sprawled on the ground, writhing and gasping for breath. Lily inhaled sharply and sprinted over, cold sweat trickling down her brow. With each suffocating step, her dread mounted. Reaching the fallen figure, Lily recognized those familiar green eyes.

"No!" she screamed, collapsing in hysterical sobs. "Harry! Oh Merlin, no! Please no!"

Beads of sweat dotted Harry's face as he whimpered and struggled for breath, trying in vain to meet his mother's gaze.

"Mum?" he croaked weakly.

Lily knelt beside him, choking back tears as she clasped his trembling hand in both of hers. "I'm here, Harry. I'm here..."

Harry's eyes clenched shut as excruciating pain coursed through him. He cried out, clutching at his stomach where a silver dagger etched with arcane runes was buried deep in his flesh. Lily blanched at the sight of the familiar blade. No! No! No!

"Mum!" Harry screamed desperately, writhing against the agony. His body tensed and convulsed as Lily held his hand, letting him know she was there.

Looking into his pain-filled emerald eyes, she said gently, "Harry, I know you're in agony, and extracting the knife will hurt even more, but I have to try." She smoothed his hair back in an attempt to soothe him as he slammed his eyes shut, bracing for the pain.

When Lily gripped the hilt, another wave of intense pain coursed through Harry's body. He whimpered and clenched his teeth as she slowly withdrew the blade. "It will be over soon," she promised, her voice shaking.

As the knife came free, Harry screamed, tears streaking down his cheeks. The pain was beyond imagination, past endurance. Lily frantically tried healing spells to ease his torment and close the deep wound, but none were working. No! Please! This can't be happening!

Coughs wracked Harry's body as he struggled to speak, eyebrows knitted in agony. To Lily's horror, he was coughing up blood.

Lily sobbed as she looked down at Harry, worry etched on her face. Panic clouded her mind as another fit of hacking coughs wracked his small frame. Desperately, she wiped away the blood, murmuring frantic pleas.

Harry stared up at his mother weakly, swallowing hard. "I'm...sorry," he gasped, grasping her hand tightly as a fresh wave of agonizing pain shot through his battered body.

Gently squeezing his hand, Lily soothed, "It's alright, love..." Despite her uncontrollable tears, she whispered, "It's okay..."

With each passing second, Harry felt worse. A soft moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes.

"Harry, stay awake..." Lily pleaded, feeling hopeless. Another healing spell proved futile.

Miserably, Harry forced his eyes open, barely able to see now.

"Mum..." he whispered faintly, his vision swimming dangerously.

Lily bent down and sobbed harder, gently grasping Harry's hand in hers. "I'm right here, sweetheart," she reassured him in a trembling voice. "I'm right here."

"Sorry—I'm not—strong enough," Harry coughed, specks of blood spraying from his lips.

"No!" Lily wailed, her face crumpling in anguish. "That's not true! You’re strong... you’re so strong..."

As the minutes dragged on, Harry grew increasingly tired and weak, too feeble to move. His breathing became ragged gasps, his pulse fluttered erratically, and his eyelids began to droop closed.

"No, no, no... Harry!" Lily cried, jolting him awake. "Don't close your eyes! Please...please..." She rocked her son back and forth in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks.

With great effort, Harry pried his eyes open to slits, straining to see through blurred visions as his breathing slowed. "I love you, Mum..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice nearly gone after all the screaming.

Lily sobbed harder, stroking his hair and caressing his face. "I love you too," she wept, her body shaking. "So much."

With immense difficulty, Harry searched for his mother's eyes, the green irises he had inherited from her. And with one last relieved yet mournful breath, Harry smiled faintly and closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness that finally overtook him.

"HARRY! NO! No..." Lily shook Harry's shoulders in desperation. "PLEASE... please... wake up..."

She wept over her son's body, not knowing how much time had passed as she sat there staring. The lack of the rise and fall of his chest showing he still lived—that he merely slept—was agony. The absence of his bright emerald eyes, mirrors of her own, was unbearable.

In a frenzy, Lily grabbed her wand and frantically tried every healing spell she knew to revive and bring Harry back.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. "Please stop. There's nothing you can do—"

"NO!" Lily interrupted. "I just need to heal him and he'll be fine again like always—"

"It's too late," the old man said, grasping her arm to stop her.

Lily struggled to free herself, but his grip would not relent. "It's not!"

With one final, desperate look at his lifeless son, she lowered her wand. The old man shook his head mournfully and said, "He's gone."

To be continued…