Alive

Lily's eyes shot open as fast as the Killing Curse she had been hit with. She was looking up at a gray stone ceiling, carved with strange patterns, and which was surprisingly close to Lily's point of vision.
'Harry!' she tried to shout, but it came out as a muffle instead. She closed her eyes once more and her tongue felt blood on her lip, but it was dry, crispy in fact, and wasn't a really tasty meal either. 'Harry!' This time the muffle came out worried and slightly more understandable. And, thinking about the blood once again, she realized that if she was only this hurt, than it was unimaginable the pain Harry had felt, the fear that had crept over him, and the blood that he could have been swimming in. Tears swelled up in Lily's dyes. She wanted her son, and her husband. 'James? Harry?' Her voice was now no longer a muffle, but it was even more worried than it used to be. 'Where are you?' she said shakily.
She did not know this but a meter beside her was her husband, worrying for the smell reasons, and her son, miles away, who was sitting in front of his living room window, in the middle of the night, his palms together, praying for a happy life, and goodness, like he did once every week. He was alive, reasonably healthy, and too still sad about what he thought was a car crash in which his parents had died.