Again, that part of her that wasn't numb was screaming at Sirius. Was beating down at the wall Lily had built around it. Was breaking.

But she couldn't let that part out. Because if she did, it would overrun everything. And all those little shattered pieces would pierce through her control, and it would be over. She would break down; and Lily simply could not allow that. Now she wasn't being strong for Sirius or Harry or anyone else. She was forcing herself to maintain the stony resolve for herself; which meant she lost even the tiny oasis of reprieve she'd previously had. There was nowhere to hide and allow herself to be less than whole.

"I know," she admitted quietly. But she didn't look at Sirius. Could not look at him. "That's why I can't leave."

Because Voldemort could take it all back. She knew that - why couldn't Sirius understand? All the things she had now she could lose, in a moment, in a breath, so long as there was a chance Voldemort might return. And she couldn't go back and pretend that she had forever anymore. Not when it was all this fragile illusion.

She was steady. She was sure. She was resolved. She was impassive. Staring at the door, wand out, Lily waited.

She was going to end this.