A/N: After some serious consideration, I decided that this is the last chapter (tear). I hope you guys enjoyed the story! Evenutally, I'm going to go back and revise it, but right now I'm going to concentrate on my other two and start a knew one. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I 3 you all! Oh, and I've rewritten the last part of chapter 3, go and check it out!

Okay, I guess I've stalled enough...here is the final chapter of Come What May...

Chapter 37

October 31, 1981

She had felt uneasy all day. She couldn't tell anyone – not even James – exactly why, but something just wasn't right. Perhaps it was the mere fact that they were in hiding. Yet she had not had this uneasy feeling when they had performed the Fidelius Charm just over a week ago, so why would she have it now?

But aside from this uneasy feeling that had decided to spring up, she had never felt more safe – more secure – since the war had begun. And in some ways, life was better this way. At least now didn't have to worry about James never coming home from work. Their family was together and safe. Not to mention of course, she and James had a lot more time for themselves as well.

Lily collapsed on his chest, both of them breathing heavy. They laid there for a while, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her, not saying a word...because none needed to be said.

Finally, James broke the silence. "I love you,"

Lily looked up and smiled. "I love you too."

Their lips were almost touching when they heard Harry begin to cry.

James sighed as Lily laughed.

"Can't have a moment's peace, can't we?" he said as they got dressed.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Lily asked her son in a baby voice that she automatically spoke in whenever she talked to him.

Fat tears continued to spill from his brilliant green eyes. She lifted him out of his crib and he immediately stopped crying. Lily sighed to herself as she and Harry went to meet James in the living room.

"Everything alright?" James asked as they sat next to him.

She nodded, smoothing out Harry's little tuft of black hair, "He was just lonely."

"I meant you." Lily looked at him. "You've been acting odd all day."

"Oh yes, James," she said sarcastically, "aside from the fact that we're in hiding because Voldemort is after our son, everything's fine."

He cupped her face in his hand. "We are perfectly safe here," James said calmly.

"I know, but something just doesn't feel right."

Harry was struggling to escape from his mother. James took him off of Lily's lap and set him on the floor. He teetered over to a few of his toys, flopped down, and began to gnaw on one of his stuffed toys.

Lily smiled to herself as she leaned against James, who wrapped his arms around her waist.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like this, but just as she was starting to doze off, James suddenly sat upright.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily.

"I thought I heard something." The fear in his voice was enough to instantly wake her up.

"It's probably just some kids messing around – it is Halloween." But Lily was trying to convince her self as much as she was James.

He stood and walked toward the kitchen to get a better view of the front yard. Lily glanced back at Harry, who was still playing on the floor, before she followed her husband. By the time she got to the kitchen, he was pulling back the curtains to peer out the window.

"It's him."

"Wh–what?" Lily could feel her blood run cold.

James, extremely pale, quickly turned to her as he withdrew his wand. "You have to get out of he–"

"I can't just leave you!" she cried out as tears fell from her eyes.

There was a loud blast. James and Lily stumbled back and the heard Harry begin to cry.

There was a gaping hole where the front door had previously stood. Beyond that, a tall figure was walking closer, with unmistakable scarlet red eyes.

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

Lily stumbled over the wreckage and back to the living room as the unmistakable sounds of battle ringing through the house. She lifted Harry into her arms, trying to calm him. She looked around for some means of escape when she heard Voldemort scream, "Avada Kedavra!"

She saw the bright green light of death and heard something fall to the ground – she knew it was James.

Lily held Harry tightly to her chest, her tears spilling on to his black hair. She heard someone enter the room. With terror filling every inch of her, she looked up to see Lord Voldemort, his wand raised and pointing – not at Lily – but Harry.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily sobbed.

"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside now..." Voldemort sneered.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–" she continued to sob. She knew it was the end, and that there was nothing she could do about it. "Not Harry, please...have mercy...have mercy..."

Voldemort gave a cold cruel laugh that made Lily's spine as Harry screamed louder.

He raised his wand higher and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" She screamed as she turned her back to shield Harry. Even though her eyes were closed, the green light penetrated her eye lids.

There was no pain. There was just the sound of something rushing towards her as life flew from her body. Lily was dead before she fell to the floor.

Harry sat next to his mother, his crying had finally stopped. Why wasn't she moving? He placed a tiny hand on her arm. "Mama," he said as he lightly tapped his arm. He heard the Scary Man laugh again, causing him to relapse into a fit of tears.

"And to think..." Voldemort hissed, "you were to be my demise. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

And for the third time that night, the Dark Lord raised his wand to kill. "Avada Kedavra!"

But as the jet of green light made contact with the child's forehead, something unexpected happened. A white light surrounded the boy; it was so bright that Voldemort stumbled back, shielding his eyes. Around him, the Potters home began to collapse. As the brightness dimmed, a jet of green light was now flying at Voldemort. Before he could react, it hit his chest. He screamed in agony as he was ripped away from his body.

Harry sat next to the body of his mother, his brilliant green eyes staring though the gaping in the ceiling. The cool night air helped to numb the angry, lightning–shaped cut on his forehead.