Part One
A lonely figure walks down the street, long auburn hair trailing behind her in the blustery wind. She pulls a red wool coat snug around her, gloved hands tucked into pockets as she wanders the sidewalk, glancing up at the shop fronts. She is young, but her face is lined with sadness, as if searching for something she has lost. Her green eyes long for answers.
Across the way a young man stops and stares at the woman in the red coat, hardly daring to believe it might be her. And yet as she turns and walks back up the street, he knows it is, and his heart stops beating for a moment. He blinks, just to see if she will disappear from his life once more, like she did over a year ago.
She doesn't, and he hurries across the road toward her, his heart now racing.
"James!" his friend calls from behind him. "Where are you going? We're meeting the others in five minutes."
"You go ahead!" James shouts back. "I'll meet you there when I can." It is his nineteenth birthday, and he is heading to Diagon Alley to celebrate, but that can wait. The vision in front of him is far more important. He thought she had been lost forever.
"Lily?" he asks, coming up beside the woman and touching her gently on the arm. She is glancing around, obviously looking for something or someone.
"Yes?" she says, turning toward him. She smiles, and her green eyes light up. "Do I know you?"
His heart breaks in two. "It's me, James. James Potter. You don't remember me?"
"No, but I wish I did," she says, holding out her hand as if meeting him for the first time. "I'm Lily, Lily Evans—though apparently you already know that." He nods, completely stunned. She smiles again, as if used to putting people at ease. "It's okay. I've lost my memory. I was in an accident, and I can't remember the last ten years."
"What?" James murmurs. "But…but…" He is unable to continue, too shocked to understand.
"How did we know each other?" Lily asks, a friendly, open look on her face, so unlike the scowls he was used to.
"We went to school together," James replies, shaking away his confusion. "For seven years. At Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Lily asks, frowning. "I've never heard of it. Are you sure? My parents told me I went to Glenbridge before the accident."
"To Glenbridge?" James repeats. "But that's a Muggle school!"
Lily raises her eyebrows, green eyes twinkling merrily. "I don't know what a Muggle school is, but Glenbridge is a perfectly good school. My sister went there, too."
"'Course she did, Petunia isn't a witch," James says without thinking. Lily frowns again, but shrugs away her confusion.
"No, she's not a witch," Lily agrees, "though she is a bit bitter at times."
"So you've said," James says. "You didn't talk about her much, but I remember you saying you didn't get along."
"Then you remember more than me. But I suppose it's true, especially since the accident." Lily sighs. "I’m afraid my parents had to give up a lot for me, so it's possible she was a bit upset. But then, she married not long after and left the house. I've hardly seen her since then."
"You really don't remember me or anything about Hogwarts?" James asks. "Not Gryffindor, McGonagall, Hogsmeade, Quidditch or N.E.W.T.s?" He simply cannot comprehend how much she has lost.
Lily laughs, and that is just like he remembers. "No, and it sounds like you're talking another language, James." She links her arm in his, and he glances down in surprise. "What, weren't we friends at school – at Hogwarts?" she asks a bit coyly.
"Er, a bit," he stammers. "At least, by the time you were Head Girl, I think you were starting to warm up to me."
"I was Head Girl?" she exclaims. "Merlin, how exciting! And were you Head Boy?"
"Yes," he says, a small hope fluttering in his chest. "Are you remembering?"
"No, just guessing," she smiles.
"But you said 'Merlin' – that's a wizarding word. Muggles don't swear like that."
Lily laughs again. "First witches, now wizards? And what's a Muggle?"
"Well, er…" James stutters to a stop, not sure where to begin. He had thought she was dead, not wandering around Muggle London without any memory of her magical life. He had given up hope, moved on to fight for the Order, pledging to bring down the Death Eaters he assumed had killed her. Only here she was, much worse than dead.
"Tell you what—I'll buy you a cup of coffee, and you can explain it to me," she offers.
"You're asking me out?" James exclaims. "But you would never go out with me at Hogwarts." He slips once again, unintentionally revealing something he probably shouldn’t share quite yet.
"I can't imagine why," Lily laughs. "You seem like a decent bloke. You'll have to tell me why I said no."
And finally James finds his footing. "I couldn’t figure it out either," he says with a grin. "I'm glad I’ve got another chance."
"That depends on what you have to tell me about myself," Lily replies. "Where should we go?"
"I know exactly where to go, and I'm buying." James takes her hand and leads her across the street toward the Leaky Cauldron.
"You're taking me to a record shop for coffee?" Lily asks lightly, though James thinks he hears something else in her voice. It might be fear, it might be hope, it might be loss; whatever it is, he feels sad for her, that she doesn't even remember the Leaky Cauldron.
"No," he says. "I’m taking you to a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. It’s right next door, only most people can't see it."
"Why?" she asks almost instantly.
"Because they don’t want to," he says. "And with a little bit of magic, they never do."
"Magic?" she laughs. "Don't be ridiculous, there's no such thing as..." She trails off and stops, green eyes wide as the building appears before her.
"Circe's crown," she whispers, hands at her lips. He notices another wizarding epithet but doesn't say anything. "There's a pub here and I've never noticed. I've walked up and down this street dozens of times yet I never even saw the sign."
James squeezes her hand in sympathy. "I imagine it's a bit of a shock the first time." He feels a stab of pain saying that, since it isn't really her first time, only she can't remember.
"Was it for you?" she asks, resuming her walk with him.
James shakes his head, smiling at the memory of shopping trips with his parents. "No, I've always known it was there. I grew up coming to Diagon Alley."
"Diagonally?" she asks, confused again. "You do speak in riddles, James."
He loves hearing the sound of his first name. She had only just started using it before she disappeared over the Christmas holidays and never returned. He feels a pang of guilt as he wonders if this new Lily, this lost Lily, will like him more than the other. If she does, will he want the old Lily back?
Shaking his head of such thoughts, he enters the small dark pub, waving at the barman and leading her to a table in the back. She gapes around her, eyes wide as she takes in the strange dress, the unusual drinks, the occasional wand. He wonders if it was like this the first time she came through the Leaky Cauldron, when she was eleven years old and on her way to Hogwarts. He is suddenly struck by how lucky he is to show her it all again.
"Two butterbeers," he tells the barman. Lily raises a questioning eyebrow, much like he remembers.
"Butterbeer? Sounds…interesting."
"I haven't met a witch or wizard who doesn't like it," James replies as a pretty witch brings them two bottles. He is sure he knows her, but he ignores her, and she walks away in a huff. "It's practically our national drink." He raises his bottle to Lily, unable to resist the gesture. She rolls her eyes, again bringing back memories of their days at Hogwarts with her favorite response to almost everything he said and did.
"Is that what you think I am, a wizard then?" she asks. She takes a sip from her bottle and pulls a face. James laughs, and she soon joins him. That is the new Lily, someone who laughs with him instead of at him.
"Actually, you're a witch," he says as they finish enjoying her reaction. She tries the butterbeer again, and it seems to go down better. "And a bloody good one, too."
"A witch," she repeats. "Like, with pointy hats, warts, and a broomstick? That sort of witch?"
Now it is James's turn to roll his eyes. "Pointy hats went out of fashion three hundred years ago, warts are easy to fix, but yes—you had a broomstick."
"And did I fly?" she teases.
"Of course," James says matter-of-factly, enjoying her wide-eyed reaction. "Quite well, actually. I wanted you for Quidditch, but you wouldn't have anything to do with it. Or maybe just me."
"There you go, using funny words again," she laughs. "And why wouldn't I have anything to do with you? I'm quite enjoying this." She finishes her butterbeer and smiles. He orders them a second round.
"I knew you would," he says, inclining his head to the butterbeer even though he knew she was referring to his company. "You're a witch, Lily—you've only forgotten. Do you have any idea of what happened?"
Lily frowns and seems to look inward. "No, not really. My parents said I was in a car accident over Christmas last year. I was in a coma for weeks. We moved away not long after that. They didn't much talk about it."
James shakes his head. "That doesn't make sense," he murmurs. "I mean, I suppose it's possible, but I didn't think people could lose their memory in a car crash."
Lily shrugs. "Head trauma. All I remember is a bright flash and a searing pain and waking up in a Muggle hospital."
James stares at her. "You just used the word 'Muggle,'" he points out.
She looks slightly uncomfortable. "You've used it several times, James. I don’t even know what it means."
"It means someone who isn't magical," James tells her. "Your parents are Muggles, and you're a Muggle-born, which means you're a witch even though they aren't."
"You mean, were," Lily says softly. She sets down her butterbeer and looks down, twisting her hands her lap. "They're gone now."
"Your parents are dead?" he repeats. "You're all alone? What happened?"
"My dad passed away not long after the accident," she says. "He had a heart attack. My mum passed a few months ago from cancer. So yes, I'm alone."
"And you were wandering around in front of the Leaky Cauldron," James muses, studying her face. "What were you looking for?"
"I don’t know," she replies, unable to meet his steady gaze. "I just felt like there was something here for me."
"You were right," he says.
"What, you?" she teases, a forced lightness in her voice.
"No, not me. I think you were looking for your way back to the magical world." James stands. He offers his hand and is thrilled when she takes it. "And I can take you there."
"You mean, there's more than this pub?"
"Lily Evans, you have no idea what you've just got yourself into," James replies with a grin.
* * *
They meet every day after that, and each day they talk more about the wizarding world Lily has forgotten. James is her guide, leading her throughout the shops of Diagon Alley, delighting in her newfound reactions to the life she has lost. He brings her books to read, books she has already read but finds new and exciting now. He tells her all about the wizarding world and about Hogwarts, though he is careful not to tell her too much about her past, knowing it might color her future.
He spends every free moment he can with her. His friends give him a hard time, but he doesn't care. He feels needed for the first time, and he feels like he is doing more for her than he does for the Order. She needs him; there are others who can fight. He knows he needs to keep his distance, be a friend, but it's as if he has a second chance with her, and he's not going to let this one go wrong.
They visit Gringotts to change some money before heading to Flourish and Blotts for more books, to Florean's for ice cream, even Gambol and Japes. She is fascinated by the owl emporium and purchases a small tawny owl before he can do it for her. "I need to keep in touch with your world, after all," she says as they walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. "Though the Muggle post seems a bit less messy."
"It's your world, too," he reminds her.
She shrugs. "I suppose. I wish I remembered all this."
"You will."
"I don't think so, James." She looks sadly at him. "You've shown me so much over the last two weeks, but none of it has come back to me."
"Does it at least feel familiar?" he asks, and is relieved to see her nod.
"Some of it. The book on potions you brought yesterday was fascinating. I can't wait to try some of them."
"You were brilliant at Potions," he murmurs, unable to resist the memory.
"I was?" she asks. "You haven't said much about me from school, you know."
"I know," he replies.
"Why is that?" she asks, sounding curious. "I wasn't a prat or anything, was I?"
James bursts out laughing at the very thought of it. "Of course not. Believe it or not, I just don't want to…influence you in anyway."
"It might help me remember," she offers hopefully. "I think I'd like to know, James."
She uses his first name again, and he realizes how different it sounds from her lips, as opposed to the other Lily who always called him Potter, and only James when she was angry at him. He doesn't want to lose that, but he can't keep her from her old self. She is still Lily, after all.
And so they sit and talk long into the night, and he tells her everything. He tells her about their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express, about their Sorting, about Gryffindor. She eagerly listens to the smallest details about the castle, about their classes and professors, about their brief time as Head Boy and Girl. He glosses over the bad things—the fights and detentions, the war outside Hogwarts; he doesn't even mention Snape. Instead, they talk about Quidditch until it is so late, and they have had so many butterbeers and gillywaters, that they stumble out into the cold night with her owl, laughing as the pub closes behind them.
He walks her back to her flat, the one she rented not long after her parents died and the pull to London became too strong to resist. He cannot believe she is living alone, just blocks from Diagon Alley, but he is secretly thrilled when she asks him to come in.
She sets her new owl in the corner, pours them another drink and falls to the couch, begging for more information. And yet, as he joins her, she put down her drink and gives him a look that clearly says she is no longer interested in talking. She moves closer and closer, until her lips are inches from his, and he can no longer resist what he had wanted for so long yet had thought would never happen: he kisses her.
They fall quickly to the cushions, lips crashing together, eager hands exploring bodies almost desperate to be touched. James feels lightheaded, dizzy with disbelief. The one thing he thought he would never have is happening. Lily whispers his name, her lips teasing his earlobe, her hand slipping beneath the belt of his trousers. He twitches and stops.
"What's wrong?" she asks. "Did I do something wrong?"
He kisses her once more before gently disentangling himself and sitting up. He runs a nervous hand through his hair, knowing she won't give him a hard time for it because that is no longer who she is. If she was, she wouldn't be with him, undoing his belt in her second floor flat.
"No, you didn't," he finally says. "It's just that I don't want to take advantage of you, Lily."
She gives him a skeptical look that stings. "Really? I'm throwing myself at you, and you don't want to take advantage of me? Don't you think I can take care of myself?"
"Of course!" he exclaims. "I know you can, I've seen it and felt it more than a few times. You're the strongest witch I know, Lily."
"Then what's the problem?" she asks directly. "Or am I wrong is assuming there was something between us?"
"You are," he says, his head falling to his hands. "I mean—yes, there's something now, but not at Hogwarts. Merlin, Lily, this is hard. I want to so badly, and yet there's so much you don't know."
"I'll learn," she says.
"No, not that stuff. There's so much you don't remember about us." He hates even saying it, hates having to go there, but his conscience won't stop yelling at him to be honest with her. He knows if he wants something real for their future, he has to be honest about their past. "We have a complicated history."
"Then tell me," she snaps. "Before I bloody well throw you out."
James cannot help but laugh, earning a frosty glare from Lily. "That's what I'm talking about. Lily, we didn't really get along at school. Not like this."
"If you're always this much of a prat, I can see why," she says. She stands and moves away, taking her drink and making a point to pour it down the sink in the small kitchen at the back.
"It has nothing to do with…this," he replies, gesturing at them, at the couch. "You just never would have done this with me. For six years we either ignored each other or fought like dragons. But you never went out with me, not once."
She is silent for a moment. "So you've said. I still don't see your point." She walks into another room, and James can hear her moving around.
"I asked, Lily, I asked over and over," he says, hoping she is still listening. "I thought maybe I had a chance sixth year, but even then all we could do when we were together was antagonize one another. When we were both made Heads for seventh year, I thought maybe things would change, but…"
"Did they?" she calls from the other room. She reappears shortly, wearing casual pants and a long shirt and pulling her hair into a loose ponytail. She returns to the living room with a large glass of water and settles down on the other side of the couch from him, tucking her legs beneath her.
"Not exactly," he says softly. "We got along better after a few months. I was just starting to think maybe we had a chance, only I never got to see if you would have said yes. You disappeared."
She refuses to meet his eyes. "So then what happened?" she asks softly. "What happened when I didn't come back?"
James takes a deep breath. "We never knew. You just didn't return after holidays, and a Ravenclaw was made Head Girl. Professor McGonagall tried to find out, but never told us anything if she did. I asked Professor Dumbledore a dozen times, but he wouldn't say either. He only said you had had an accident. We assumed…well, we assumed you were dead."
James looks up to see her staring into her water glass, her green eyes shimmering with tears. He reaches out to her, but she shrugs him away, and he feels wretched for having said anything at all.
"I was scared you would say something like that," she finally says, her words shaky. "About me being dead. You have no idea what it feels like to learn everyone you used to know and love thinks you're dead, and not remember any of it."
This time she lets him slide over and put his arm around her shoulder. She turns her face into his shoulder and for the first time since he found her, she cries. She cries for all that she has lost, and James holds her, stroking her hair and desperately wishing he could absorb her pain and restore her memories, even if it meant she went back to hating him.
Finally she wipes her eyes and looks into his face with a sad smile. "Thank you for telling me, James," she says softly. "Is that why you won't kiss me? Because the old me didn't like you, and you feel like you're taking advantage of the new me?"
He nods, feeling his own eyes prick with tears. He realizes he loves them both, the Lily who lives in his memories and the Lily he has built new memories with. What he can't do is reconcile one with the other.
"I can't believe I didn't see how kind and caring you were in school," she says, watching him closely.
"That's probably because I wasn't." He can't help but laugh somewhat bitterly, thinking of his younger self. "You frequently referred to me as an arrogant toerag, a big-headed prat, or a conceited git. And you were right every time."
"Then you've changed too," she muses.
"I suppose I have," he replies. "War will do that to you."
"As do car accidents," she says. "If we've both changed, I don't see the problem with being together as new people."
"Only you don’t remember what it was like between us before, and I do," James says, unable to resist touching her face. "I've thought of this moment for so long, but I feel like I'm doing something wrong by finally realizing it this way."
She lifts her face to his and kisses him once more. "Don't feel guilty. If I ever remember what you used to be like, I'll also remember who you are now. And who we are now is what should matter, not who we were two years ago."
"Lily, I—" he starts, not knowing what to say. Fortunately she stops him.
"Don't talk anymore," she murmurs. "Just be you, with me."
And he takes her in his arms to show her how much she means to him, no matter who she is.
* * *
Remembering Lily by Gmariam
Story Notes:
This short story will be a series of scenes from James and Lily's relationship rather than a continuous narrative of their life after Hogwarts.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you so much to Lea/muggle girl marauder for being my alpha beta and reading this over for me! I really appreciate her support as I always tend to question myself when starting something new and slightly different. Thank you to every one who has helped me out with the tense, as well, and to Carole for helping me with my terrible Brit-picking! :) This will be a short story, but I do hope you enjoy it.