Something terrible was about to happen. It was a feeling Lily had felt before, on a few rare occasions. Before a death eater attack, the night they'd been told about the prophecy... that lurking sense of dread, squirming in the back of her brain. She felt herself tighten, her muscles bracing against an inevitable blow. But when it came, it didn't hit like she expected it would.
'Peter?' she mouthed the name at first, confusion written clearly across her features. What did Peter have to do with any of it?
Then something clicked. Peter was their secret keeper. That fact alone was like a kick to the chest, driving all the air from her lungs as quickly as any physical punch.
The worst happened.
Oh god. She was going to be sick. Lily's hand flew to her mouth as her stomach turned over, her eyes far too wide and desperate as she stared across at Sirius.
She was dead. She knew it, suddenly, with no shadow of a doubt. As surely as she knew anything. They had found them. That was why Sirius couldn't look at her, that was the terrible crawling sensation on the back of her neck. And if she was dead, then James and Harry.... The pain that shot through Lily was the sharpest she'd ever known, tearing something deep inside her. The world tipped a little, and she found herself grabbing the cushion she was sat on, gripping it so tight her knuckles went white in an attempt to find some purchase.
"What did he do?" She heard herself ask, as if from a long way away. But then she shook her head quickly, because she didn't think she could stand to hear him say it out loud. Instead she took a breath, feeling it fill her very much alive lungs, her still-beating heart hammering frantically against her chest.
"When?" She finally asked, hating the way her voice caught.