I’ll Be Good (Talk Me Down)
James is determined to stay away from short, freckled redheads. Lily, having had enough drama for a lifetime, is equally resolved to avoid dark-haired troublemakers. But he rarely does what he ought, and she is too stubborn for her own good. It should be an interesting year.
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Chapter Thirteen or I’ll Be Good
DEATH EATERS INVADE HOGSMEADE VILLAGE
That was the headline of the Daily Prophet the morning after the attack. No names had been released, for the sake of the parents. As far as the wizarding world knew, all students had made their way back to the castle safely.
James, of course, knew different.
(I never meant to start a fire)
The weather started to warm up by the end of February. The customary blankets of snow had melted away and, every so often, the sun would come out and play.
Today was one of those days.
It felt mocking, really. As though their grief wasn’t that bad, wasn’t so legitimate, because at least they had the sun. James wanted to climb on his racing broom and punch it in the face. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really a possibility, so he turned to other things; drank more than his fair share of Firewhisky, threw himself into Quidditch, got into trouble more often than not, all but ignored his friends, his brothers in everything but blood, and above all else… he kept his distance from Lily Evans.
Not that what had happened was her fault, and it wasn’t that he blamed her exactly… well, maybe he did a little. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but just looking at her felt like rubbing salt on an open wound. Because why else would he have left Susan by herself in the middle of an attack if not to run after his precious Lily?
If only he’d stayed by his girlfriend (his girlfriend, for Merlin’s sake), maybe things could have turned out differently.
If only he hadn’t been so fucking in love with Lily Evans, if only she wasn’t the only god damn person on his mind, if only he hadn’t been so desperate to get to her, maybe Susan would still be with them. Maybe Elizabeth wouldn’t have spent the whole night sobbing inside her four poster, maybe the Daily Prophet wouldn’t have had such a fucking field day with it all, maybe—
If only.
Sometimes the heart made the stupidest fucking decisions.
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