He didn't want to cry. What man wants to cry in front of his wife? But he couldn't help it. All of the emotions he hadn't had time to let out over the past year had come rushing over him, and it was so hard to stop.
He nodded as she spoke, and slipped his arm around her waist, reaching to open the door and bring her inside. "I don't think Harry's here," he said. "But that one there looks like our room."
James led Lily through the door, not taking the time to appreciate the rich decoration of their unit. That could wait until later. "Sit, please," he said, pointing her to the chair in the corner. He knelt down in front of her, his hands on her knees, before he continued.
"He came to the house," he continued. "It all happened so fast. Lily, I couldn't stop him. He stunned me.... got me out of the way. He was after Harry."
He had to stop for a moment to collect himself. Leaning his head down, he laid it against her knees for just a moment before coming back up, his eyes brimming with tears once again. "When I came to... he was gone. Harry was fine. But you... Lily... he killed you, trying to get to Harry."