Part One—The Night Before
Lily was fuming.
She was supposed to meet James to go over prefect assignments for the train ride back to London in less than a month. He had managed to put it off for a week, but she had finally threatened to slip him a Babbling Beverage if he didn't sit with her and go over the duty roster that night.
He hadn't shown up.
Nor could she find any of his friends. After checking a few of their usual haunts, including the boys' dormitory, she finally cast a Location Charm for the absent Head Boy and followed the tiny bubble of light down to the kitchens.
He was sitting at a wooden trestle table and staring vacantly into the fire. A single house elf swept the hearth, occasionally glancing nervously at James. He was slumped over and bleary-eyed, and a bottle of half-empty Firewhiskey stood in front of him.
Lily sighed: he was clearly drunk, and in the castle kitchen, no less.
She wondered why he would be drinking alone in the kitchen on a Friday night. Normally he would have at least kept it to Gryffindor with his friends. Then again, he had shown remarkable restraint the majority of the year when it came to his Head Boy responsibilities and reputation, so she was somewhat surprised that he would do something so uncharacteristic so close to the end of the term.
Her annoyance at his absence was greater, however, so she snuck up behind him and shouted, "Potter!" in his ear. She was rewarded when he jumped out of his chair and knocked over the bottle of Firewhiskey. He swore and tried to right it, liquor flowing over the table.
"Hey, Evans," he said, throwing himself back down into the chair with the loose limbs of someone who had already had quite a bit to drink. He didn't even yell at her for startling him, whereas she would have normally expected a sharp retort. "Care to join me?"
"Not really," she said, eyebrows raised disapprovingly. "We were supposed to go over the duty rosters an hour ago. Last one, you know."
He smacked his forehead and winced. "Sorry. I forgot."
"Obviously." Lily crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a rather disapproving look. He, in turn, rolled his eyes at her and took another drink; a small puff of smoke drifted from his ears.
"Knock it off, Evans. You're not my mother."
"You shouldn't be doing that here," she pointed out. "It's not exactly private. You could get caught."
"If I didn't want to get caught, I'd sneak into Hogsmeade," he replied, waving his hand toward the general direction of the village.
"Then why are you down here?" she asked.
"I wanted to be alone," he mumbled, staring into the fire again. Lily was puzzled. He might be completely pissed, but he was also acting far too sullen. In fact, she could not recall having ever seen him this way. Angry, upset, annoyed, but not…depressed. Something seemed to be bothering him.
"Why?" she asked. "Where are the others?"
James rubbed his cheeks as if willing himself to talk through numb lips. "Sirius had to go to a funeral, so he Flooed back to London after dinner. Remus is in the hospital wing. And Peter is actually studying—with Susan Pritchard, no less."
Lily gasped; all three revelations were surprising. "A funeral? The hospital wing? What happened?"
"Sirius's uncle died. Apparently he was also a bit of a black sheep, so Sirius was keen on going to pay his respects." James shrugged. "And Remus…well, he just had a hard night." He absently scratched a stubbled cheek, and Lily frowned as she noticed a large cut running the length of his arm. Remus was often in the hospital wing, and it was obvious James knew why; she suspected the cut had something to do with it. She decided not to press him, however, because she sensed that wasn't what was bothering him.
"So why are you down here with a bottle of Old Ogden's, then?" she asked. She sat down across from him, sniffed at it, and made a face; even the smell of it was vile.
"Feels a bit more like home, sitting by the kitchen fire," he said. "Good place for thinking."
"About what?" she pressed. For some reason, she wanted him to talk to her. Her earlier anger was replaced by an honest concern for whatever had driven him to do something that was so irresponsible, even for him.
"Loads," he answered. "N.E.W.T.s are next week, you know." When she nodded, he continued. "I shouldn't be worried, but I am. I know you think I don't care much about class, but I do." He gave her a pointed look, and she had to glance away, slightly embarrassed that he was so clearly aware of her opinion of him.
"You'll be fine," she reassured him. She believed it, even if his skeptical expression clearly told her that he did not. "You're top of the class in Transfiguration, aren't you? You can do things half the class can't do."
He shrugged again and took another drink from the bottle. "Fat lot of good that will do me," he muttered. She didn't understand, but continued as best as she could.
"Everyone is worried about N.E.W.T.s. You should see the Ravenclaws, they're going batty in the library. You'll do fine."
"It's affecting my game," he said, shaking his head. "We almost lost to Hufflepuff last month. I couldn't score worth a damn, and it was my last game. My last game."
She remembered the match; he had seemed off. He sounded sad that his Quidditch career had ended on a low note and reached for the Firewhiskey again. Before he could take another pull, Lily took out her wand and flicked it under the table. He put the bottle to his lips only to find it was now water. Spitting it out, he swore again.
"What did you do that for?" he demanded.
"You've had enough," she said. She motioned to the house elf, who was now snapping his fingers at the last dishes from dinner. "Can we have some bread and cheese?" she asked politely. The elf nodded and hurried away, quickly returning with a plate of food for them. James made a face, but began gobbling it down as if he hadn't eaten anything all day.
"So that's why you're down here? Stress?"
James stopped and gave her a venomous look. "I can handle stress, Evans."
"Then what is it?" she pressed again. He rolled his eyes before answering her.
"I got into it with Snape and his gang again today, stupid prick."
Lily frowned again. "So? There's nothing unusual about that, either."
"It's getting worse," he said, his hands flailing in the air. "And as soon as we're done at Hogwarts, we're going to be fighting those guys for real." He must have seen the surprised look on her face. "Well, I will, anyway. I know he was your friend, once."
"He chose his path years ago," she murmured, once more feeling a faint twist of sadness that someone she had once been so close to could turn to such dark things.
"Exactly!" James exclaimed, waving a piece of cheese at her. "He chose Dark magic. He's probably got the Dark Mark already, him and the lot of Slytherin house."
She knew that Snape's group of Slytherins were well on their way to becoming Death Eaters, yet there was nothing to be done about it, and she didn't see why it was bothering James any more than usual. "They probably do," she agreed. "But you've fought with them before, and it hasn't driven you down here to drown in a bottle of Firewhiskey. What's wrong?"
"Why do you care?" he asked, his voice dull and colorless.
"Because…" she trailed off, trying to articulate her answer. She didn't want to say anything that would ruffle him at the moment. Really, she would have cared no matter who was sitting across from her nursing a bottle of strong liquor. That it was James, and that he was acting so out of character from his usual steady self was somewhat alarming, and she wanted to help him. This brooding man in front of her alarmed her. She much preferred the James Potter she thought she knew: strong, confident, fun-loving. She was surprised at how much she wanted to talk to that person instead.
"Because something is obviously wrong, and I want to help," she finally finished softly, hoping he would not read anything into her statement. "Think of it as my job as Head Girl if you have to. James, did something else happen?"
"I'm just sick of all this," he mumbled again. "Of work, of studying, of Snape, of Hogwarts."
Lily gave him a piercing look. "No, there's more. What's really wrong?"
James was quiet for a long time. "My parents were attacked this morning."
"What?" she gasped. "What happened? Are they okay?"
"They're fine," he said, grabbing another hunk of bread and tearing it into pieces. "My mom is still in St. Mungo's, but my dad was released. They weren't targeted personally, which is a miracle in itself given how many times they have refused to support Voldemort's cause. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some Death Eaters attacked The Flying Dutchman, a restaurant in London my parents frequent, and they were hurt with about a dozen other witches and wizards just eating breakfast."
"I'm glad they're okay," she said, trying to imagine what it would feel like if she were to ever receive news like that. She was beginning to understand why he had come downstairs to blow off some steam with a bottle of Firewhiskey. He seemed surrounded by anxiety, aggression, and even death.
"Unfortunately," he continued, "several others were not. Some old family friends, Andrew and Viola McDougal, were killed. They were like my second family. I spent summers at their estate up north. And now they're gone. Just like that."
Lily took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm so sorry."
He looked at their hands in bleary-eyed surprise. "Why? It was bound to happen sometime. Look at what's going on out there. Hell, it's even happening here at Hogwarts. We can't escape it anymore."
She knew he was right: the war outside Hogwarts might not have reached the castle quite yet, but every day it seemed a bit closer. Friends lost loved ones, and small fights broke out in the corridors. There was a tension that had nothing to do with classes or exams that hung over the students and darkened their last weeks of school.
Suddenly he flung his arm across the table, sending the bottle of Firewhiskey to the floor. "And you know what really gets me? Snape and his cronies knew. They knew about the attack, they knew what had happened to my folks, and they got in my face about it just to rub it in. Technically, I should be in detention right now for some very irresponsible dueling in the corridor."
And then she understood: it was all just too much. N.E.W.T.s, Quidditch, Head Boy duty, Snape, his parents, the war, detention—how much could an eighteen-year-old handle? There were certainly days when she felt completely overwhelmed, and she didn't have half of what he had to deal with at the moment. She sympathized with him, and felt her heart going out to him in a way that it never had before.
"Come on," she said, pulling him up. "Let's go for a walk."
He grabbed one last hunk of bread and followed her without protest. She thanked the house elf as she led James toward the door. She stopped at the exit, however, and studied him closely.
"What's wrong? Are we done walking?" James asked. He was extremely unsteady on his feet.
"No, I just don’t want to run into any professors," she said, frowning. "Not in your state. I guess I could use a Disillusionment Charm, although I've never tried it on anyone else."
"Nah," he said. "Just use this." He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to her with a small hiccup. "It'll tell you if anyone is near."
She looked down to see a map of the castle. Tiny black dots moved around the parchment, each labeled with a name. She saw her name next to James in the kitchen. Glancing up in surprise, she asked, "Where did you get this? It's amazing."
He shrugged as he headed out the door, staggering slightly and apparently trusting her to keep watch with the strange map. "Made it," he replied. She hurried to catch up with him.
"You made this? Yourself?" It was truly an impressive bit of magic.
"Nah, had loads of help from the others. It was Sirius's idea, and Remus came up with half the charms we used."
She whistled under her breath as she glanced around the map. She saw her friends in Gryffindor, Remus in the hospital wing, and Peter next to Susan Pritchard in the library. She did not see any professors nearby, and walked silently next to James as they headed toward the Entrance Hall and out onto the grounds, keeping a close eye on the map. If he occasionally bumped into her, she pretended not to notice.
They headed toward the black lake, finally coming to a stop under an old beech tree near the water. James stared morosely toward the forest. "I was just out here last night. Last time, too." Again he rubbed idly at his arm.
"Last time for what?" Lily asked, curious. She had often wondered where he got to on those nights when she covered for him, but had never managed to pull it out of him. She'd feel bad if he spilled the secret now, since he would probably regret it in the morning, but she did want to know. Unfortunately, he seemed to be clear on the issue.
"For a run," he replied, his tone clearly closing the topic. "Last one, too. Time to go. Time to leave school. Time to grow up."
Lily looked at him in surprise. "You don't want to leave," she said, starting to understand his mood a bit more.
"Not really," he mumbled. "Do you?"
"Well, yes," she answered honestly. "We're of age. We've finished our studies. It's time to move on."
"Move on to what?" he asked, hazel eyes peering at her through his glasses.
"The rest of our lives, I guess," Lily replied. She had not really thought about it much; she was just excited to be done with school.
"I happen to like this one," he muttered.
"But you can't live it forever—running around with your friends, staying out all night, sneaking into Hogsmeade."
"Why not?" She gave him an exasperated look, but he grabbed her arms, his face intent. "I'm serious, Lily! Why would we want to leave here?"
"You just said you were sick of this place," she reminded him.
He threw up his hands and began pacing. "Oh, but exams and games and detentions are nothing compared to what's happening out there. There's a war going on. People are getting hurt and dying. Do you really want to head out on your own into that?"
Lily was stunned at his dismal ferocity. Why was he so hopeless? What was he so afraid of?
"Yes," she replied, putting as much strength and resolve as she could into her voice. "Yes, I do. I want the chance to prove myself. To live my own life. To make a difference."
"By getting killed?" She looked at him in shock. He sighed as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "You're a Muggle-born, Evans. They will certainly come after you at some point."
"Then I'll fight," she snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you, Potter? This isn't like you, this fatalistic whining. You're not that kind of man."
"How would you know?" he retorted, putting his glasses back on. "You don't know me at all."
"I've spent seven years with you," Lily replied as steadily as she could. "Including an awful lot of time this year. I know you're not a coward."
He narrowed his eyes at her, and for a fleeing moment Lily was worried she was going to see the full force of his anger directed at her. Yet, as quickly as it flashed behind his eyes, it was gone, and he passed a hand over his face and ran it through his hair in the annoying way he had.
"Then you don't know the real me," he said softly. "Because I'm afraid of a lot of things." He turned and walked away.
Lily stood there and watched him go. She didn't know whether to go after him or leave him in a snit. Nothing she said seemed to make a difference. Deciding it was probably unwise to let him wander the grounds alone after so much Firewhiskey, she finally ran after him.
"I'm afraid of spiders," she said quietly, coming up next to him. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"I'll remember that next time I have the opportunity to hide something in your Charms book," he replied dryly. She smiled as she remembered the frogspawn that had fallen out of her book during third year.
"I'm also afraid of heights," she continued. "That's why I dropped Astronomy: I couldn't stand the tower."
"No wonder you don't like Quidditch," he said. He didn't look at her, just kept walking around the lake.
"And…" she hesitated, because she had never really admitted it out loud, "I'm afraid of getting close to people. I don't want to lose them, like I lost…my sister." Or Severus, she kept to herself. It was true, but she had never told anyone. She had no idea why she had just confided it to James Potter.
He finally stopped and studied her carefully. "Is that why you've never gone out with me?" he asked directly.
"What?" she said, surprised at the turn her confession had taken. She might have expected James to ask her about Petunia, but not about her reasons for not dating him. "I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe because you've always been a…a…" She trailed off as he snorted and returned to circling the lake.
"A big-headed prat? A conceited git? An arrogant toerag?" He threw the last over his shoulder at her with surprising vehemence. She was once more surprised at his reaction.
"Well, yes, if you must know," she replied as she caught up with him. "You were. Admit it."
He blinked at her, bleary-eyed, and shrugged. "I was. I admit it."
"Well, then." She didn't know what else to say, and they continued together in awkward silence.
"I don't like rats," James said, completely out of the blue. "Which is ironic, since one of my best friends…" He stopped, hand to his mouth. Lily thought he might vomit.
"Is a rat?" she asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. To her surprise, he actually nodded.
"Crazy, huh?" he laughed. "Ah well, he's a good enough sort of rat."
She had no idea what he was talking about as he continued toward a short stone wall that lined one end of the lake.
"I'm also afraid of those Muggle contraptions, what are they? Motorcycles? But Sirius wants one after graduation. He’s determined to drag me out on it, too."
Lily just nodded as he sat down on the rocks, his legs dangling over the water. She remembered Sirius talking about it several times in the common room. James looked up and motioned her join him. She sat down next to him, the cool spring breeze off the lake feeling good against her skin after the warm kitchen.
"And I'm afraid of failing," he continued. "I hate failing. You may not think so, but I work hard to do what I do, and when I can't do something, it really bothers me." He turned to look at her. "So now you know me a little bit more. See, I am a coward."
"How do you figure that?" Lily asked skeptically. "I told you my fears to prove that everyone is afraid of something, whether it's something as small as a spider or something even bigger. It doesn't make you a coward."
"I'm scared of leaving school," he said baldly. "How about that? Is that cowardly enough for you? It's not just that I want to stay—I'm afraid to leave."
"May I once again point out how you were just complaining about N.E.W.T.s, Quidditch, and various Slytherins?" she replied, hoping to get him to see how he was contradicting himself once more.
He gazed out at the water. "You may. And I will once again point out that even I know how minor and insignificant those things really are in the end."
"So tell me why you are afraid to leave Hogwarts," she said. "Then I'll tell you if you're a coward or not."
He leaned back on his arms, blowing his breath out as he gazed up at the dark sky. "I may be sick of things right now, but isn't it better to fight Snape here and get a detention—or two if you skip it—than to fight him in some dark alley and end up injured or killed?
Lily shook her head in amazement. For some reason, she just assumed things that like would not touch her life outside Hogwarts. It was someone else's battle to fight, not hers. She certainly could not see herself fighting Severus. "You can't stay here forever, just to avoid something that might not even happen."
"Oh, it'll happen," he replied darkly. He was silent after that, just staring out across the lake as he slumped over, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands.
"You're really worried about the future, aren't you?" she asked, studying his face. He looked young and uncertain at that moment, and she wanted to find a way to reassure him that it wasn't as bleak as he seemed to think it was.
"Of course I am!" he exclaimed, sitting up straight. "It's like I already said: things are bad out there, Lily. I know that everything is going to change, but with the way things are now, they are not going to change for the better. Why would we want to willingly walk into that?" He sounded so serious, she had no answer for him other than what she had already given. And he was so convincing that she found herself starting to doubt her own feelings about leaving Hogwarts.
"What else are you worried about?" she asked, just to keep him talking, to see if he could articulate everything that was troubling him and come to some sort of resolution.
"Well, for one, there are my parents." He looked down at his hands, obviously not wanting to meet her eyes. "They're getting on in years and won't be around forever. My mum's been sick, and what happened today will probably set her back a bit more."
"Go on," she said softly.
"Then there are my friends. What's Sirius going to do on his own? He's got no family except us. And what's Remus going to do for a job? No one wants to hire a…" he stopped. "…a guy like him. And Peter." James shook his head. "I really worry about Peter, poor guy. Someone is going to take advantage of him without us to look out for him."
"Why, James Potter, you're not an insensitive lout after all," Lily said, feigning surprise.
He rolled his eyes at her. "My friends are important to me, Lily, even if you think all we do is mess around. And what about you? What are you going to do after Hogwarts?"
She gazed out across the lake, thinking about it. She'd do what most everyone did: get a job, move out on her own, live an adult life. Yet the war cast a shadow on her plan, and now she wondered if things would turn out the way she expected.
"I'm hoping to find a job, preferably in the Ministry. I've thought about going for advanced training in Charms work at St. Mungo's." She stopped and gave him a small smile. "I'd like to rent my own flat, find someone, get married someday." She stopped short of telling him how many children she wanted, already embarrassed with how much she had shared.
"Get married?" he asked.
"You've never thought about it?" she countered.
"Well, sure." He shrugged. "I just never thought it would actually happen."
Lily couldn't help it: she giggled, but then felt bad when he huffed at her. "No, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, laying a hand on his arm. "I'm not laughing at you. I just find it amusing that you think it won't happen."
"And why is that so amusing?" he asked, sounding rather icy. She raised her eyebrows at his defensive attitude.
"Because I know you'll find someone who wants to spend the rest of their life with you," she said simply. "She'd be a lucky girl." She was surprised to find she meant it, in spite of so many years spent rejecting his constant declarations of affection. It was hard to reconcile the immature teenager who had bombarded her with invitations to Hogsmeade during fifth year with the young man sitting next to her, so serious about his future.
"What if I already did?" he asked, ignoring the compliment and watching her closely.
She sputtered, shocked at the implication and irrationally disappointed. "You're engaged?"
"Merlin, no!" he exclaimed. "I just meant…oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand."
"Try me," she said, smiling again to encourage him. He seemed to think about it, then took a deep breath and plunged on.
"What if I already found the girl I want to be with? And what if she hardly knows I exist?" he asked.
"Potter, every girl in school knows you exist. You never let them forget it."
"Not all of them," he murmured. "What if I never see her again after we leave? What if something happens to her?"
Lily looked away, feeling uncomfortable. She had a strange feeling that she knew who he might be talking about, but she did not want to go there, not now, not when she was suddenly questioning everything she had once thought about James Potter. Instead, she teased him some more. "Oh, I'm sure you'll see her. What use is your charm and wit if it's only good at Hogwarts?"
He grimaced. "Can I ask you something, Lily? Why do you keep saying things about me that I don't do anymore? Did you happen to notice that I was Head Boy this year? And that I was a pretty decent Head Boy—at least, until tonight?"
Lily felt herself flush with embarrassment. She had noticed, and yet she had continued to treat him the same as ever, constantly reminding him of his imperfections even though he had worked hard all year. She felt guilty for treating him so poorly when he was obviously aware of it, and more importantly, he was obviously bothered.
"Yes, I noticed," she said softly. "I'm sorry."
He didn't say anything, just glanced back out over the water. They were silent for a long time, and Lily felt terrible for insulting him when she was only trying to help.
"Do you think you'll see your friends after Hogwarts?" James finally asked.
She nodded. "Sure, why wouldn't I?"
"Do you think you'll ever see me again?" he continued.
Lily was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I never really thought about it."
James sighed. To her surprise, he pulled off his shoes, laid his robes down on top of them, took off his glasses, and jumped off the wall into the lake, plummeting into the black water like a stone to the bottom of a pond.
"James!" she shouted, peering into the inky darkness. He didn't come up for a long time, and when he did, it was far out in the lake. She could barely see the moonlight reflecting from his eyes.
"What are you doing?" she called, worried. It was dark, it was getting cooler, and it was quite likely the giant squid did not enjoy being disturbed while he was sleeping.
"Trying to get sober!" he yelled back. He dove under and kicked his way back to the wall. "Care to join me?"
"Absolutely not," Lily said. "And you shouldn't be in there yourself, you'll catch cold."
He pushed away, floating on his back with his arms behind his head. "Do you really think we'll never see each other after Hogwarts?" he asked again.
"I don't know," she said, feeling wretched for repeating herself instead of giving him the answer he clearly wanted to hear. "I suppose we'll run into each now and again. What are you going to do when you leave?"
James blew bubbles in the water before answering. "Actually, I imagine I'll fight."
"What?" she asked, confused. "Fight in the war?"
"Yes, the war, Evans," he replied. "We've only been talking about it all night. Someone has to try to stop that crazy nutter from taking over the wizarding world."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, why?"
"You were just going on about how dangerous it was out there!" she said. He was a jumble of contradictions that night, and she didn't know if it was the liquor or not at that point. "Why would you go and fight after saying all that?"
"It is dangerous," he said, pulling himself back up on the wall. He shook the water from his hair, spraying her. "That's why I have to do something. I don't want my parents to get hurt. I don't want my friends to get killed. And I don't want anything to happen to you, even if I never see you again."
"You're a real enigma, you know that, don't you?"
He put on his glasses and blinked owlishly at her. "I suppose."
He stood and put out his hand to help her up. "Done swimming?" she asked, taking it and standing.
"I am," he replied. "I actually feel much better."
"You purged yourself," Lily murmured.
"I guess so. Thanks, Evans, you're—" He stopped, eyes wide. He convulsed once, and his hand flew to his mouth. This time she knew he was going to retch, and jumped back even as he turned away from her to hurl into the grass.
"Oh, James," she murmured. He fell to his knees and spewed once more, and she felt bad for him even as she laughed to herself. He was really having a difficult night.
When he was finished, she helped him up, using her wand to clean up the mess. He appeared somewhat stunned at the sudden, violent protesting of his stomach.
"I feel awful," he said. He looked positively green, and was even more unsteady on his feet than before.
"It's catching up to you," she said. "You're going to hurt in the morning. Come on, let's get back to Gryffindor." She slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled out the map with her other hand. Once again, she kept watch for professors as they made their unsteady way back to Gryffindor.
Lily had to give him credit: they stopped twice more for James to vomit into whatever corner he could find. Lily cleaned it up, just as she had outside, and dragged him back to his feet. Not once did he complain. In fact, he set his lips so stoically she almost had to remind him to breathe.
They ducked into an empty classroom once when she spotted Filch making his way toward them on the map. She murmured a spell and locked the door, only to turn around and find him with his head on a desk, still silent, though she could only imagine how terrible he must be feeling. She almost wanted to laugh again, except that he looked so pathetic, and she felt the need to take care of him.
They finally made it back to Gryffindor unseen. The Fat Lady gave them a royally disapproving look before letting them into the common room. As soon as they stepped in, the room went silent. Lily stumbled to an embarrassed stop; James raised his heavy head and frowned.
"Stop staring," he stated very clearly. "She is not feeling very well and I am merely helping her back to her dormitory."
There were sniggers around the room, and even Lily had to hide a smile at the false bravado as she guided him toward the stairs that led up to the boys’ dormitory. She paused briefly at the bottom, debating whether or not to continue, yet when she looked at James, eyes half closed, she knew he'd never make it to bed without her help. She sighed and tugged him up the stairs as best as she could.
The others were still gone, and so the dormitory was thankfully empty. She guided James toward what she assumed was his bed, where he promptly fell over on his back and let out his first groan since they had left the lake.
"Are you still here, Evans?" he mumbled through his hands.
Lily laughed and sat down next to him on the bed. "Of course I am. I couldn't leave you by the lake wallowing in your own vomit."
"I would have left me there," he groaned. "I'm sorry, Evans. I can't believe that of all the people to run into, you are the one who gets to put my drunk arse to bed."
She smiled at his embarrassment. Really, it didn't phase her one bit, and that alone surprised her. Several months ago it would have probably bothered her to babysit James Potter and clean up after him, but he had just bared his soul to her, and she found herself looking at him differently. He may have been influenced by the Firewhiskey, but everything he had said had made sense and come from a very real place, born of very real feelings and fears. It touched her that he had shared them with her, even if he might regret it in the morning.
"It's okay," she said softly. "Come on, let's get you undressed." She tried to help him sit, but he flopped right back down, like a child refusing to cooperate.
"I can do it myself," he protested.
"I doubt it," she laughed. "You'll just fall asleep in your clothes."
"What's wrong with that?" he asked, flinging his arm over his face. "Who made up the rule about wearing pyjamas to bed anyway?"
"Your clothes are still wet," she pointed out. "Take them off. Now."
"You know, I never thought I'd hear those words from you," he groaned, letting her help him up this time. "I hope I remember this tomorrow." He didn't open his eyes once as she began to take off his shirt.
"I never thought I'd say them." She laughed again as she pulled him off the bed and helped him unbutton his trousers. "Where are your pyjamas?" she asked. He pointed to the trunk and sat back down on the bed, naked except for a pair of pants. He put his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and Lily was surprised to see another long scratch on his shoulders.
She was also surprised at how quickly her heart had suddenly started beating. She was in the boys’ dormitory with James Potter and he was completely undressed…and she was having some rather indecent thoughts about him, thoughts she had never really had before. But he had just revealed his deepest fears, and somehow that bit of vulnerability made him that much more attractive. She found herself wanting to take him in her arms and hold him so that his fears might settle. She even wondered what it might be like to kiss him good night.
Lily shook her head of such thoughts as she pulled his pyjamas from the trunk at the foot of his bed. He must have really felt terrible because he did not protest once as she dressed him. No snide comments or clever quips; he just placidly let her pull on his shirt and trousers, all the while staring blankly into space, as if he were both physically and emotionally exhausted.
Finally she took off his glasses and gently pushed him down toward his pillow. His eyes were closed before his head even touched the sheets, and she assumed he had either passed out or instantly fallen asleep. She brushed some stray hair from his eyes, smiling as she studied his face. He looked somewhat more at peace than he had when she had found him, but he also seemed older now, as if more than just the weight of school rested on his shoulders. Lily knew that he worried about much more than having fun and showing off, and her perception of him had been forever altered by their conversation.
"Good night, James," she whispered as she stood to leave. She was startled when his hand shot up and caught hers, holding her tight.
"Thanks for finding me," he said softly, not opening his eyes. "You really helped me think things through."
She squeezed his hand before letting go and walking toward the doorway. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could." She was about to leave when he spoke once more.
"Lily."
"Yes?"
He opened his eyes, and Lily was slightly stunned by the look of honest emotion in them at that moment. Her breath caught in her throat.
"It was you, you know that, right?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her to understand and not reject him. She nodded.
"Yes, I know," she said softly. "Get some rest, James. Things will be different in the morning."
He nodded and fell back to the pillow, eyes closed. Lily watched as his breathing settled into a slow, rhythmic cadence, indicating he had indeed fallen asleep. She sighed as she turned to leave. Things would certainly be different in the morning. She wasn't sure how, but something told her that her relationship with James Potter had just changed dramatically and would never be the same.
* * *
Different in the Morning by Gmariam
Story Notes:
I am not J.K.Rowling, but thank her for the opportunity to indulge myself.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you to Natalie/hestia jones for letting me borrow James and for reading this over. This story will conclude in Part Two-The Day After. Thank you for reading and reviewing!