When James returned to the dorms after his brief encounter with Lily, he discovered that his friends had already finished unpacking and were now enjoying themselves by having a sword fight with their wands. Well, Peter and Sirius were and Remus was watching, the corner of his lips turned up slightly. James dejectedly wondered if things would ever be the same between them, after last year….

“You’re back!” said Peter, grinning because he had successfully turned Sirius’s ears green.

“Did she show?” asked Sirius, wiping several strands of hair from his forehead and turning his ears back to normal.

James nodded and started to unpack.

“So, what did you want, anyways? You left in kind of a hurry.” James knew that Sirius would continue to press, but for some reason, James didn’t want to tell them what he had overheard before. But they told each other everything…

“I just wanted to -- to make sure she was alright, I guess. I don’t know…She just seemed rather, well -- after what happened….”

“You made her go all the way down there just to see if she was alright?” Remus raised his eyebrows. He could always tell when James was lying.

“Yeah, that’s basically what she said.”

Sirius shook his head. “Hey, I have a question for you: Why are you calling her ‘Evans’ again?”

“Dunno,” James shrugged, turning away. He really didn’t want to talk about this right now.

“Well, you know, this is your last year to get her to go out with you. You were making good progress -- don’t think we didn’t see how she was acting when you two were chatting earlier -- but if you keep calling her ‘Evans,’ she’ll never go out with you…”

James stiffened. “Bloody hell, Sirius!” he yelled, rounding on him. “I don’t want to be making good progress with her because her parents died! I don’t want her to bloody act differently around me because of what happened…Merlin! There are bigger things going on here than if I can get her ‘to go out with me!’”

All three of his friends looked shocked. “James,” Sirius started, wide-eyed. “Blimey, James, I didn’t mean --”

“Sorry,” James said gruffly. “I didn’t mean to yell…I’m just kind of stressed. Oh for the love of Merlin…” He kicked the rest of his books onto the floor, muttered, “I’m going to bed,” and pulled the curtains shut, closing out the sight of his stunned friends.

“Lily?” Lily opened one eye, revealing a rather worried looking Marlene. “Um…we should probably go soon…” Lily had to think for a moment to understand what she was talking about. Oh. Right. That.

Dragging herself out of bed, she winced. Despite all the potions she had taken, her bones still ached. She slipped on her jeans and a borrowed jumper from Marlene. She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and muttered, “I’d rather stay away from the Great Hall this morning, you know, as I’m in muggle clothes and all.”

“Of course,” nodded Marlene. “I figured as much. I brought you some toast and your schedule.”

Lily smiled, “Thanks, Marlene.”

“No problem,” she said briskly, turning to the door. “We’d better get going then.”

“Right,” Lily mumbled, following her.

They passed relatively few people in the hallways, and only one, a sixth year Gryffindor, seemed perturbed by the Head Girl’s lack of uniform.

“Miss Evans, Miss McKinnon,” Dumbledore nodded to each of them in turn as they appeared by the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office. He was apparently waiting for them. “If you would follow me please…” Lily had only been in Dumbledore’s office once, and that was strictly Prefect business. Marlene, however, had never and was fascinated by the spiraled staircase.

Dumbledore wasted no time. “Here is a portkey: It will take you to your house, Lily,” Dumbledore paused, “You will be followed, of course -- for safety purposes -- but I will not bother you. Do try to hurry, though; it would be a shame to miss your first class. When you are done, just touch the portkey again, and it will take you directly to your dorm.”

Lily nodded, looking away. Then, she and Marlene both made to touch the portkey, and Dumbledore’s office went spinning away….

They landed in her kitchen, Lily thankfully on her feet. Marlene hadn’t been quite as lucky, and was on the floor, looking slightly irritated. “Bloody portkeys…”

Lily gazed around the room, her head spinning. Everything looked the same, exactly the same…There were still plates on the table. The chairs … the flowers in the vase by the window…She was going to be sick…She sat down quickly, trying not to retch.

She was sitting in her father’s seat. Her breath quickened. She closed her eyes, trying to get a clear picture of him, but all she saw was his body…Death Eaters…Voldemort.

She opened her eyes instantly, and saw Marlene looking at her. “L-Lily?”

“Right,” Lily said, a little too loudly. “Upstairs, I guess…” They walked to the hallway. Up the stairs. She felt as if she was retracing her steps from that night. She would always refer to it as that night. Not the night Voldemort attacked. Not the night her parents died. It was just that night.

She was shivering. She kept looking behind her, as if a Death Eater was going to jump out at her any moment. She pushed the door open to her room.

Death Eaters…broken glass…James…The images danced before her. The window was still broken, and her curtains were fluttering slightly in the breeze.

“Oy, what happened to Ringo?” Lily looked up. Marlene was looking skeptically at her Beatles poster.

“That’s Paul,” Lily said, her voice laden with emotion -- not for the loss of her favorite poster, but the memories…Voldemort…James…

“Paul? But I thought that one was Paul,” Marlene said. She didn’t seem to realize what she had just done.

“That’s John,” Lily corrected. Being a Beatles fanatic, she had made Marlene memorize all of their names and albums. “See? John, Paul, George, Ringo.”

She walked over to her window, looking out onto the balcony. She rarely used this balcony, because she had to open her window and crawl through to do so. Sometimes, though, she used to go out there and just sit and watch the stars at night. It used to be her haven when she and Petunia got in fights, but now, now it was riddled with memories. She crawled out the window, being careful not to cut herself on the broken glass, and inhaled, her eyes closed.

I see you. I’m going to kill you. Voldemort’s horrible face appeared in a smoky image in front of her. There’s no where to run…You’re going to die, just like your parents…I see you.…

Lily opened her eyes, gasping for breath. She was shocked to see she was leaning over the balcony, almost to the point of falling off. She stood up quickly, lost her balance, and fell against the cold railing, panting heavily.

“Lily!” Marlene’s voice called shrilly, sounding panic-stricken. “What on Earth? What are you doing?!”

You were imagining it. Imagining it. He’s not here. You’re fine. Fine. She told herself, rubbing her eyes. She stumbled back into her room and sat on her bed breathing heavily.

“Lily? What is --?”

Lily ignored her. “I don’t -- want -- to be -- here,” she heaved. “Let’s just…hurry…” Marlene just nodded. Lily, regaining her normal demeanor, said, “I’m mostly packed. I guess I just need to grab some little things that I won’t be -- be coming back for.” She realized this may very well be the last time she stood in her room.

She had never been scared of her house before. Not even when she was little and Petunia had tried to convinced her that dragons lived in the hallways when it got dark. (How much fun had Lily had sending Petunia an article about Chinese Fireballs in the mail?) But now, as she crept through her home, collecting various items like that picture of her family in Paris or those shoes that she never wears, she felt just that: Scared.

She was scouring her room one final time, when she saw something she had almost forgotten about: A piece of parchment on the floor by bed, blown, apparently, by the wind. Potter’s letter. She thought about just leaving it, but for some reason, as she made to take the portkey back to the dorms, she grabbed it and stuffed it in her pocket. Then, with a powerful jerk behind her navel, she was taken from her home for the very last time.

(A/N: Before anyone kills me, Lily hearing Voldemort’s voice in her head is not an attempt to give her and Voldemort a connection like Harry’s. There is no connection. No secret, important thing to the plot here. She’s just imagining it, and it’s there to show how deeply -- despite what she let’s on -- that night affected her.)