"You... you saw my ghost?" she asks, voice faint. Too busy staring at him, Lily fails to reflect on quite a few key points. For starters, just how long has she been dead for if he'd seen her ghost a few years ago? Why doesn't she remember this? And why is this handsome young man calling her mother? Because she hadn't left a boy or an adult before she'd died, she'd left a baby. But Sirius--he'd said that Harry was older now.

Lily swallows thickly. Maybe the only pure thing about her is her ability to love. She doesn't want vengeance for having her life snuffed out like a flame, though she's angry about it all, and she's heartbroken about her family which was ripped apart, and--

"Harry?" she whispers, voice so low and quiet, as if she didn't quite dare speak his name too loudly for fear of the volume in her voice to shatter him like glass.