Cait. Only getting older. Mostly, I write fanfiction. Sometimes I'm brave enough to post it. I will always come back to Jily, but I also dabble in Sydrian and BellaxEdward.
MY FANFICTION
Had an early morning urge to write some early morning Marauders banter.
"I'm not asking you to trick her into meeting up with me," James said, a bit muffled as he jammed his jumper over his head. When he popped his head through the neck hole, he could see Remus's doubtful look. "I'm asking you to convince her to meet up with me."
"There's a difference?" Remus said mildly, still frowning as he straightened his tie.
"Yes," James said decisively. "One implies deceit and a lack of consent. The other takes more effort and respects boundaries."
Sirius, lounging on his bed next to James's without a care in the world, as if they didn't have to be across the castle for Transfiguration in ten minutes, snorted.
"Well, I think it's quite clear," Peter said around his foaming toothbrush.
"Thank you, Peter," said James, reaching for his robe.
"Clear that you're an idiot, maybe," Sirius jabbed as he finally stood and started to snake his leather belt through his trouser loops. He didn't bother with a tie, but Professor McGonagall was more likely to dock points for a messy tie than a missing one. "At least when it comes to Evans."
Peter's laugh echoed from the bathroom as Remus made a small sound of agreement. James didn't bother denying it.
He crossed the room to the foot of Remus's bed and threw his arm over the bedraggled boy's shoulders. A small, disgruntled huff was Remus's only sign of disapproval when James inadvertently wrinkled his tie.
"You'll do it, though," James said. "Won't you, Moony?"
Remus sighed and shook James off. "I'll talk to her."
The conclusion to the A Matter of Trust series (which was originally titled A Late Night Epiphany)
After weeks of silence, Lily takes a chance and reaches out to James in an attempt to reconcile. What starts as an awkward night turns into the perfect opportunity to finally address the hurt and fears that nearly drove them apart.
1 (In an Empty Dormitory) // 2 (On the Astronomy Tower)
AO3
Lily dallied as long as she could, pretending to fuss over her hair and the state of her silky, pale green dress before finally she sighed and tied the neat little scroll to the leg of the handsome barn owl Marlene had sent her earlier today with permission to borrow Apollo for a quick letter, and sent him on his way. She watched the owl for a moment, flying away with her heartfelt note, before she headed for the bedroom door.
Her silver, strappy heels clacked on the hard, peeling yellowing laminate floor as she walked down the hall to the living room where her parents were waiting on her. “There you are, dear,” said her mother, turning at the sound of her footsteps. Her fretful, harried gaze softened for a moment as she took in the sight of her younger daughter and crossed the room to her. “Oh, don’t you look lovely.”
“Thanks, Mum,” Lily said, accepting her kiss on the cheek. If her parents noticed her withdrawn disposition, they likely were just chalking it up to her reticence to attend tonight’s function. Her sister, Petunia, lovely hag that she was, had made it quite clear to all three of them that she did not want Lily in attendance. Their parents had shut her down quickly. They had not pinched and saved and stretched their money to afford a nice engagement party for Petunia and her awful fiancé for them to shut Lily out of it.
“Where’s your … date?” her father asked. He hesitated over the word, and said it with a discomfort and trepidation that would have made Lily chuckle and roll her eyes at him had she not been feeling so down. All of his letters to her at Hogwarts had referred to James Potter as Lily’s friend all year despite all of Lily’s referring to him perfectly clearly as her boyfriend. It would have made her happy, and very fond of her sweet, sweet father that he was finally acknowledging that there was something more than friendship there.
Only…
She hadn’t told her parents of their fight, hadn’t had the heart to mention that she was pretty sure they had broken up. At least, they hadn’t spoken to each other since their disastrous sleep-deprived row on the Astronomy Tower, since he had threatened to hate her forever if she turned him in for being an Animagus and ruined Remus’s life. Part of her – the headstrong, stubborn part that had allowed her to be so easily swayed against him as a child – wanted to believe it had nothing to do with Remus, that he was only worried for his own sake if his lawbreaking was revealed. Part of her, growing larger by the day – the part who knew him and trusted him and respected him – knew he truly did have Remus’s best interest in mind. Remus, who thought so lowly of himself because of the hateful violence a monstrous grown man had committed against him as an innocent little boy, would blame himself if his friends suffered any negative repercussions for something they had done to help him.
She knew James was right for his part of their argument, but that didn’t make her wrong. He had broken wizard law. His very existence now was a crime, as long as he refused to register himself as an Animagus. She couldn’t bear it if the law caught up to him and took him from her. She couldn’t bear it that her own stubbornness, and his, was taking him from her now.
She had been hoping against her better judgment that he would make a grand gesture and show up for her despite how awful things had been between them the last couple weeks of term. As time had ticked on and the moment of departure had neared, however, she had realized he wasn’t coming. She would have to make the grand gesture if she hoped to reconcile. Only, it was crummy timing on her part that she would be so pulled to reconciliation on the night of her sister’s engagement party.
The grandest gesture she was capable of tonight was a hastily scrawled note: I’m sorry for how we left things at the end of term. I want to see you. I want to make things right. Please, can we meet in London tonight? You know where I’ll be. All my love, Lily.
“Lily?” her mother said gently, touching her arm. She startled, jerking her attention back to her parents.
“Sorry. What were we talking about?”
“Where is James?” her father repeated, referring to him by name for the first time. “I thought he was meeting us here to ride into London with us. Is he meeting us there after all?”
There was a sharp stab in Lily’s heart at the sound of his name. She wasn’t sure what to say.
A loud knock on the door saved her from having to come up with an answer. She dared not hope as her father strode purposefully from the room, clearly expecting to have to fight her for the right to greet James at the door. Lily didn’t move, though. She thought her heart would shatter if she rushed to the door and it wasn’t him. It was already racing abnormally fast as it was, though she tried not to get her hopes up as she stared down at her shimmery, soft pink toenails peeking out of her strappy heels.
“Hello, Mr. Evans. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Lily’s heart leapt to her throat as she recognized his voice, confident as ever, though with an odd shaky timber to it, like he was all but vibrating with emotion. Her head shot up, and she realized her mother had been watching her closely when their eyes locked. It didn’t matter. She turned and took the few steps into the entrance hall.
And there he was being ushered in by her father.
There was snow in his hair, and on the nice, thick, long black woolen coat he was wearing. His jet black hair was as untidy as ever, though it looked like he had made some vain attempt to flatten it only for it to be promptly mussed by the snow and howling wind. His cheeks were pink, which made her think he had been outside – perhaps not at her door, but outside – for quite some time. There was a small scroll clutched in his hand.
“Can I take your coat?” her father offered awkwardly as he shut the door behind James.
James, who appeared not to have heard her father, locked eyes with Lily the instant she stepped into the hall. And, oh, she could see all of the emotions he was feeling: uncertainty, doubt, fear, exhaustion, and beneath it all there was relief. Because in his hand that was clearly the note she had just sent out with Marlene’s owl, irrefutable proof that she wanted him here, that she hadn’t turned her back on him. She couldn’t understand how he had received it so quickly, but he somehow had.
“Hi,” was all she could think to say.
“Hi,” he replied, sounding a bit breathless. He closed his mouth, opened it to say something, closed it again. Then his gaze shifted to something behind Lily. “Oh, hello. Mrs. Evans. It’s nice to meet you.”
He had seen them before, many times, at the train station, but he had never met them.
“Hello, dear. You must be James,” her mother said.
“Yes!” Lily said, jumping in and gesturing between the three of them awkwardly. “James. James Potter. Er, James. My mum and dad.”
The three of them nodded, James looking as awkward as Lily felt, and both of her parents staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
For a long moment, nobody said anything.
Then her father cleared his throat.
“Right,” he said. “Well. As I was saying before our lovely distractions joined us, can I take your coat?”
James blinked. “Sorry?”
“Your coat,"” her father repeated patiently.
Looking startled, James glanced down as though only just realizing he was still wearing it. “Oh. Right. Yes. Sorry.”
He shrugged out of the heavy wool coat and handed it over.
A small cascade of melting snow immediately hit the laminate floor.
“Lovely," said her father, looking down at it.
“Sorry," James said again. Suddenly, his wand was in his hand. “I can…”
He waved his wand, and the snow disappeared.
“Lovely,” her father said again, sounding much more impressed as he turned to hang James’s coat in the dingy hall closet. He turned back and nodded at the wand James was now pocketing. “Useful, that.”
“It can be,” James agreed.
“Can it handle the washing up?”
“It can handle, well, anything,” James said. “There’s a spell for just about everything imaginable. I’m, er, pretty rubbish at most of the household ones yet, but yeah, it can handle the washing up.”
“Don’t encourage him, dear,” her mother said, stepping around Lily who was still frozen in the doorway to take his scarf before that, too, made a mess of her floor. “He’s always after a way to shirk his household tasks. Cold out?”
“Freezing,” James said.
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Her parents shepherded James into the living room. He didn’t quite meet her gaze as he passed her in the narrow doorway, but he stiffened when her mother all but shoved Lily onto the loveseat beside him and their shoulders brushed.
She vaguely registered that her father was asking James about Hogwarts.
All she could think was that he had come. He was here, in her small, dingy house, right next to her on the loveseat. Not altogether cozy. But here.
Every time Lily stole a glance at him – just to be sure, just to verify his presence – she found him sneaking at a glance at her. Every time they both looked away quickly, like guilty children. Ridiculous.
When her mother finally announced it was time to go, Lily was almost dizzy with relief. Then, sick with dread.
“Well,” said her mother, checking the clock. “As the hosts, we ought to be leaving.”
"Already?" Lily asked.
Her mother gave her a look. Lily realized she had sounded disappointed. The truth was that she had almost forgotten about the engagement party entirely.
“Petunia would never forgive us if we were late to her engagement party,” her father pointed out as he crossed the room and headed for the hall closet again and began handing out coats.
There was another flurry of motion as they all bundled up again and headed back out. They had just reached the car when Lily had a sudden, horrible, embarrassing revelation.
Her mother knew.
She didn’t know everything, of course, but she knew Lily and James were struggling. She knew James’s arrival had taken Lily by surprise. She knew that their greeting had been awkward not because they were in front of her parents, but because they were not in a good place.
She didn’t verbalize this, but her eyes conveyed the message when their gazes locked across the car as James, who had never seen a car before, mimicked her father’s actions and opened the door for her, then carefully closed it once she was seated in the back. Her gaze lingered in the rearview mirror as James rounded the car to get in on the other side behind her mother, and Lily found reasons not to catch her eye. Silently, she modeled how to buckle the seatbelt. Quietly, she explained that no one else knew about magic, especially not Vernon. She brushed the snow from her hair and found her coat folded in her lap very interesting all of a sudden as she struggled to follow the vein of the conversation between her father and James.
Not because it was complicated or she didn’t understand what they were talking about. She did. James was explaining Quidditch to her father. Suddenly, it was Transfiguration. She couldn’t keep track. Her mind was reeling.
James had come.
He had shown up.
He hadn’t given up on her.
She couldn’t stop marveling at the fact that he was here. In her father’s car. Beside her.
They did not touch. They did not look at each other. They barely spoke to one another.
But it was relief enough to be near him.
All the while she was acutely aware that her mother was watching her. She did not meet her gaze again.
They spent much of the evening alone in the back corner of the event hall after Lily’s second failed attempt at making polite conversation with one of Vernon’s rather impolite cousins. Every now and then someone – usually a distant relative of Lily’s – would pass by and strike up a brief conversation during which James smiled politely and remained mostly quiet, only offering vague responses if directly asked a question. Lily did not have time to prepare him for Muggle conversations, so he appeared to be erring on the side of caution. They didn’t speak much when alone, either.
Lily wasn’t sure what to say, and it was clear James wasn’t sure what he was allowed to say around Muggles. So they stood in their little corner nursing their beverages in near-silence. At least he wasn’t standing so far away from her that they didn’t look like they liked one another. They weren’t touching, but they would be if only they shifted a bit. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a bit awkward, though.
“I’m glad you came,” Lily said finally, very quietly, almost whispering into her gin and tonic.
James’s head tilted in her direction, so she at least knew he heard her. He took a moment to respond.
“Of course I did. I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?” His tone was light, carefully casual, but she recognized the question as genuine.
She nodded quickly, looking over at him to see that he was carefully studying her. She smiled shyly at him, and received a soft smile in return.
Something shifted between them after that. Nothing was fixed. The issue hadn’t gone away. But the mood between them was lighter, uncertain still, but not disastrous.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” James told her a little while later, after Lily’s great-aunt once-removed or something like that waddled away from them.
Lily felt her cheeks flush. “Thank you.”
It was like their very first date, when they were not unfamiliar with one another, but figuring out how to act around each other in a new era of their relationship.
“I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw you,” he continued, clearly bolstered by the sight of her blushing over the compliment. “Would have been very embarrassing to have that be your parents’ first impression of me.”
Lily laughed freely at that, and even more of that tension between them eased.
“You’re ridiculous,” she told him.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been told,” he said easily, lifting the beer to his lips and taking a sip.
“By me,” Lily said.
“Many times,” he added, holding her gaze over the neck of his beer bottle.
She smiled at him, a full beaming smile, not the shy timid thing she’d offered him earlier, and he grinned back at her. Her heart felt so very full in her chest and there were so many things she wanted to tell him, but nothing would be appropriate now, here, in present company.
“I’ve hated not talking to you,” is what she finally settled on.
He turned to face her fully and finally took her hand. “It’s been killing me.”
It was as if a dam had broken. Her eyes burned with tears that threatened to spill over. “I’ve cried so many times.”
“Me too,” he breathed as if it was quite the admission.
She studied him with a small, discerning frown. “You haven’t.”
“Swear I have,” he insisted, completely sincere. “Sirius threatened to institutionalize me just the other day.”
She laughed again, and her smile felt a little watery as she accepted that he has indeed been as distraught as she had. How idiotic they’d both been, avoiding each other.
“How long is this going to last?” James asked suddenly.
“Hm?” She realized a second too late that he meant the party, not their reconciliatory conversation. “Oh. I think Mum said that after mingling, food would be served, then speeches, then it’s all wrapped up.”
Across the room she could see carts being wheeled in, chafing dishes being laid out on several long white tables along the far wall. Already several members of the Dursley family were beginning to line up for the buffet, dinner plates in hand. When she turned back to James, she could see that he had noticed as well. He leaned closer to her.
“Do you think…” He paused. “Well, afterward, if you want to, do you think your parents would let us go off somewhere? Alone?”
“Yes,” she said automatically. Because whether they liked it or not, they were going to have to. Lily wasn’t going to give them a choice in the matter. “Where do you want to go?”
Her mind was racing with possibilities. They were both seventeen. They both had their Apparition licenses. They could conceivably go anywhere. But what they needed was privacy. Unfortunately, they both lived with their parents and it was freezing cold outside.
“We could go to Sirius’s flat,” he offered. Lily frowned. She loved Sirius. Truly, she did. She could not dream up a more loyal best friend for James. Even Remus paled in comparison there. But she didn’t want to have this conversation in Sirius’s presence. James seemed to know what she was thinking because he smiled at her. “He’s staying at my parents’ house tonight.”
“Alright, then,” Lily said
“Yeah?” James asked, and she nodded. She could not wait until all the dreadfully boring speeches were over and they could get out of here.
For the first time since they arrived, her father sidled up to them. James straightened, but noticeably did not release her hand.
“Nice corner you’ve claimed here,” her father observed, leaning against the wall beside Lily. “Definitely better than out there.”
Lily smiled, deeply fond of her father in that moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be building relationships with Petunia’s new family?”
“Aren’t you?” he countered.
“Please, we both know if Petunia had her way I wouldn’t even be here. The last thing she wants is for me to become familiar with Vernon’s family,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. She was used to the cold, impersonal way her sister treated her by now, but it still stung sometimes. James gave her hand a soft squeeze.
“Lily,” her father murmured. “You know she…”
But Lily waved him off. “It doesn’t matter, Dad. It’s fine. James and I had a nice chat with Aunt Gail just a bit ago, didn’t we?”
She looked at James, who smiled and nodded. “Yes, we did, although I don’t think she fully grasped what I was doing here.”
Lily giggled and turned back to her father. “She thought he was one of Vernon’s cousins, can you believe that?”
Her father looked at James – studied him, really, clearly mentally comparing him to Vernon’s family – then he looked back at her. Something in his expression shifted, some troubled feeling seemed to ease. He shook his head. “No, actually. I cannot believe that.”
“Thanks,” James said genially. He had barely interacted with any of the Dursleys – he’d stood silent behind Lily when she had tried to talk to a few of them – but he had heard enough stories about Vernon to be firmly convinced he didn’t fancy being compared to him.
Lily’s father chuckled. He would never say it, but Lily knew he didn’t particularly care for Vernon. He wasn’t bad. Not for Petunia, anyway. But he was boring and loud and self-important and always had to be right. He didn’t mesh with Lily’s parents.
Once, Lily had thought James was much the same, except for the boring part. But there was something warmer about James. Kinder, friendly, outgoing, conversational rather than just talkative. When Vernon spoke, people listened because he didn’t give them an option. When James spoke, people listened because he made them want to.
“Well, I really stopped by to point out that food’s being served,” her father said.
“Yes, we noticed,” Lily said.
“Should probably join the queue,” her father added, eyeing the crowd of Dursleys waiting as silver cloches were lifted. “Before there’s nothing left.”
“Dad!” Lily reprimanded. James failed spectacularly at trying not to laugh at that. Her father simply smiled, winked, and clapped James on the shoulder as he drifted away again. The gesture was so casual most people wouldn’t have noticed. Lily did. Her father had made up his mind.
James looked at her. “He touched me.” He looked stunned. “He slapped my shoulder.”
“Yeah, well.” Lily struggled to keep her tone light, as if it didn’t really matter all that much. “He’s always been affectionate with people he likes.”
“Oh. Really?” James asked. It was as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
“I guess he’s kind of like you in that way,” Lily observed, again too casually.
Of course James noticed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Lily said, giving up the casual tone. It did matter. It mattered quite a lot. For a moment, they just looked at one another. His smile had gone a bit soft around the edges, as if that small clap on the shoulder, that quiet approval, meant more to him than he had expected. Then, Lily cleared her throat and nodded to the queue. “Shall we?”
She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she figured grabbing a bite might help pass the time until they were able to leave.
“Sure,” James said.
There was so much movement and chatter around them that Lily felt it would be more awkward to stand silently than to continue talking.
“How did you get my note so quickly?” she asked quietly as they joined the end of the queue.
He looked at her.
“Well?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything. “I sent Apollo off and five minutes later you were at my door. He’s good, and brilliant, and fast, but he can’t get all the way to Wiltshire that quickly.”
He was still just staring at her.
And she realized. She was right. Apollo couldn’t get to Wiltshire in five minutes. And even if he could, James would have had to read the note, make up his mind to come, get dressed, Disapparate, and then find her house once he made it to Cokeworth. He was brilliant, and he was talented, but he couldn’t do the impossible.
“You were already there, weren’t you?”
Suddenly, he appeared very interested in a scuff mark on the marble floor.
“James,” she whispered.
“Potentially,” he finally said, daring to glance at her again. Whatever he saw in her expression seemed to give him a bit more courage. “I was trying to decide if knocking on the door was the worst idea of my life.”
It took her a moment to process. He had been there all along. She had been fretting, pining, waiting, hoping he would show up, and he had been just outside freezing half to death fretting, pining, waiting, and trying to work up the courage.
She had never wanted so badly to kiss him.
No, that wasn’t true.
She had often wanted badly to kiss him.
But this felt different. More intense, more meaningful.
Regardless, she couldn’t kiss him at the moment. So, she took a step forward to close the gap behind the person in front of her.
“Well?” she asked him over her shoulder.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t the worst idea of my life.”
She shook her head and with a delighted little laugh she turned back to face the front and found herself at the serving table. Unable to fight her own smile, she picked up the serving tongs and began to load his plate with pieces of roast chicken. When she looked up at him again over the plate between them, he was looking at the food she had picked out for him, smiling. His eyes met hers, and he looked so pleased she could hardly keep her heart in her chest. She piled a load of potato salad onto his plate. He beamed at her.
Dinner dragged on. They were seated at a table with several of Vernon’s relatives, all of whom seemed determined to discuss topics of dizzying boredom. She nodded when appropriate, hummed her false agreement when prompted, and contributed absolutely nothing to the conversation. Beside her, sitting so close their shoulders were touching, James seemed to be following her lead.
Several times she looked over at him to catch him stealing a glance at her. Or perhaps she was the one stealing glances. Either way, their gazes locked embarrassingly often. The more frequently it happened, the longer it seemed to take them to look away from one another. She was antsy, hot all over, anticipating leaving and getting to Sirius’s flat and finally laying it all out in the open so they could get back to normal. Judging by the way his leg had not stopped bouncing since they had sat down, he was every bit as eager to get out of here as she was.
When Petunia’s maid of honor stood up and called for attention to begin speeches, Lily was relieved for all of two seconds before another awful realization struck: they had to sit through several boring speeches now. By the time the second speaker – Vernon’s coworker and best man – stood, Lily’s eyes had begun to glaze over.
James slid his hand into hers.
He wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the speaker; he appeared to be listening with rapt attention as the boring man up front made a joke about quarterly sales figures. A few people laughed politely. His thumb brushed the back of her hand.
Another woman took the best man’s place – an aunt of Vernon’s, Lily was pretty sure - and then there was Petunia’s uni roommate, then another guest of Vernon’s, then a comically distant aunt of Lily and Petunia’s who really had no business giving a speech. Lily only perked up when her parents took the floor.
“Oh no,” she murmured.
James leaned closer, bringing his lips very near her ear so as not to draw attention. “What?”
“My father has notes,” she observed mildly.
James eyed the folded parchment in her father's hands. “Is that a bad thing?”
“It means we’re in for a long speech,” she whispered.
“How long?”
Lily considered. “Do you remember Professor Binns’ lecture on the Goblin Rebellions?”
James stared at her. “Surely you’re exaggerating.”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately not.”
James sighed.
At the front of the room, Lily’s father cleared his throat.
“I’ve been asked to keep this brief,” he said in a clear, carrying voice.
“He won’t,” Lily whispered to James, who huffed out a nearly silent snigger. Beside her father, her mother caught their eye. Lily straightened. James did the same. He did not let go of her hand.
“The strangest thing about being a parent is that one day, you’re watching your daughter play on the swings, helping her learn to tie her shoes, learning how to do a plait just to make her smile. And the next, you’re standing in front of a room full of people – family, friends, damn near strangers – preparing to hand her over to another man.”
He paused, smiled at Petunia, who was sitting prim and proper at Vernon’s side just a few feet away. “Which is a dramatic and self-centered way of saying that she stops asking your opinion and starts asking his.”
There was a beat as he held Petunia’s clear blue gaze. “Though I doubt you’ll ever stop telling me what to do.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd, not forced and polite like it had been for Vernon’s coworker, but sweet and genuine. Lily smiled softly when James’s thumb took up tracing patterns on the back of her hand again.
“I spent years thinking there would be more time. More years. More opportunities to cement myself as the most important man in your life. And then you brought home the man you had chosen to be in your life. And quite suddenly, my priorities shifted. It stopped being about importance and shifted to trust. Trusting that your mother and I had done our job. That we had raised our beautiful daughter to be strong-willed, intelligent, and confident in her choices, secure in the knowledge that we would always support her decisions.”
Petunia sniffled. Her father glanced away and cleared his throat. His eyes briefly fell on Lily, and she saw he was desperately trying to hold back tears before he quickly shifted his gaze again, landing somewhere near the back of the room, somewhere safe. Lily immediately felt her eyes well up and she drew in a shaky breath.
James squeezed her hand. Once. Twice. And his thumb brushed her wrist.
“When I was young, I believed a good relationship was one devoid of arguments. No rows, no heated words, no disagreements, no hurt feelings. Two people, one personality,” her father continued, and glanced at his wife with a wry smile. “That didn’t survive the first year of knowing my wife.”
Lily’s gaze dropped to the lacy white tablecloth when she noticed her father’s eyes begin to move over the crowd again. She would never hold it together if their eyes met again, and neither would he. It would be a disaster. As her father continued on, Lily vaguely registered James’s thumb moving slower and slower on her wrist until eventually it stopped altogether.
“Now, the older I get, the more I realize it’s quite the opposite. A good, strong marriage is strengthened by those arguments, by those knock-down drag-out fights that would destroy a weaker connection. Because love, real love goes back to trust. Trusting that the person you’ve chosen chooses you too. Trust that you both wake up every day, and no matter what happened the day before, you’re on the same side. Perhaps not of the argument, but of the life you’re building together. That even when you’re arguing, you choose to fight together. To build something stronger.”
The room erupted into applause. Lily blinked and looked up. Petunia was openly crying now, blotting at her face with a handkerchief while Vernon awkwardly patted her hand. Beside Lily, James was unnaturally still.
Lily’s mother took the microphone from him. Her voice was soft, fond, with a bit of an emotional quiver in it that most of the people here wouldn’t notice. Lily noticed.
“My husband is the speechmaker in the relationship, if you hadn’t picked that up,” she began. “And, quite honestly, he’s summed up my feelings as well. So, instead of dragging this on, I will simply…” She lifted her champagne flute. The crowd mirrored her. “To Petunia and Vernon. May you continue choosing one another.”
“To Petunia and Vernon,” the crowd echoed, and everyone sipped their champagne.
Lily lowered her flute and wiped a few errant tears from the corners of her eyes as, beside her, James sat back in his seat. She hadn’t even noticed he’d leaned forward.
He glanced over at her with shining eyes of his own and cleared his throat softly. “That really wasn’t so bad.”
“No,” Lily said, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “It wasn’t.”
Then Vernon’s parents took the floor. Lily made a small, disgruntled sound. James buried his face in her hair to hide his chuckle. And Lily smiled into his shoulder.
Vernon’s mother had a loud, booming, ostentatious voice. The only thing Lily registered from her bit of the speech was that she could see where Vernon’s self-importance stemmed from. His father spoke about a dog, a holiday home, a drillbit. She completely lost the plot.
Finally, after another agonizing thirty minutes, the speeches ended. Chairs scraped the floor as people rose, applauded. Petunia and Vernon stood together, not holding hands, but a united front, and thanked everyone for attending. Lily and James stayed seated, hands still clasped, Lily still leaning against him.
Around them, guests began gathering handbags and coats, bidding farewell to friends and family they hadn’t seen in a while, drifting towards exits or queueing to offer congratulations to Petunia and Vernon.
“Should we congratulate them?” James asked after a moment. He was looking toward the front of the hall, where Petunia was accepting congratulations with her show smile plastered on her lips. At her side, Vernon was absorbing all of the praise. With each person who stopped before them, he looked more and more pleased with himself.
Lily hesitated. She lifted her head from his shoulder and took a long moment to stretch.
“We need to tell my parents goodbye,” she finally said.
“That’s not what I asked,” James said.
She sighed. “I know.”
“Do we have to say goodnight to Petunia and Vernon?” James asked very pointedly.
“Legally? No,” she said. He looked at her. There was no demand, no judgment, no expectation. He just looked at her. Petunia was still standing at the front of the room accepting congratulations from a queue of people she barely liked. Lily was another such person, but once, long ago, they had been very close. Before Hogwarts, before magic, before all the complications. She sighed again. “Fine, yes, let’s go congratulate the happy couple.”
James stood, and used their joined hands to pull her to her feet. Lily scanned the table out of habit – the only important thing she’d brought with her was her wand, which was securely shoved down the front of her bra – and then, after taking a moment to steel herself for what was sure to be a painstakingly polite conversation, queued up once again.
They didn’t speak this time as they waited behind a short, pudgy woman Lily thought was a friend of Vernon’s mother. It was an excruciatingly long wait, mostly because Lily had delayed queuing up for so long that they were among the last guests to reach Petunia and Vernon. Lily spent the entire ten minutes trying to plan what she would say.
When she stepped in front of her sister, nothing came to mind. Petunia’s cool blue gaze met hers warily. She hadn’t wanted Lily here. Lily hadn’t wanted to come. Their parents had forced both sisters’ hands tonight, and they were both aware.
“Congratulations, Tuney,” Lily finally said. The childhood nickname crossed her lips unbidden. It felt appropriate, though. Somehow. “You look lovely.”
Petunia blinked. Just once. Something softened about her expression; the curve of her lips became a touch less practiced.
“Thank you,” she said after a pause which was perhaps a beat too long. Her gaze flitted to James, and their clasped hands, and then back to Lily.
Assuming they had been dismissed, Lily began to turn to leave.
And then, “So do you.”
Lily froze mid-step. She hadn’t expected that. Apparently, neither had Vernon, who was looking on with a gaping mouth. James was smiling benignly. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Lily smiled.
“Goodnight, Petunia,” Lily said.
Something flickered across Petunia’s face. It was so fleeting that Lily didn’t have time to place it.
“Goodnight, Lily.”
As they walked away, Lily became aware of James’s hand flexing in hers. Looking down, she realized she was clutching him in a death grip. She loosened her hold immediately, mortified. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said, and then gestured back toward Petunia with his head. “That wasn’t the worst sibling exchange I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve seen Regulus challenge Sirius to a duel,” Lily pointed out.
“True,” he said. “On more than one occasion.”
“It went better than expected,” Lily allowed after a moment.
“She literally complimented you,” James reminded her.
“It went pretty well,” she conceded.
James laughed and her parents, who had just finished bidding farewell to someone, turned to them.
“Well, that was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?” her mother said.
“It was very nice,” James agreed as if he hadn’t spent the majority of it wishing it were time to leave. “Your speech was leagues above the rest. I genuinely loved it.”
“Oh, that was all this one,” she said, waving her hand in her husband’s direction. Then she smiled. “But it was very good, wasn’t it?”
Her husband waved his hand as if to dismiss the compliment. “She’s just being kind.”
“No, she’s not,” James said immediately. “I was hanging onto every word of it. I nearly forgot it was a wedding speech. It just felt like really, really pertinent life advice.”
Lily made a strangled sound. All three of them turned to her. She looked vaguely horrified. “Dad, you’ve counseled my boyfriend.”
Her father hummed thoughtfully. “Is that what’s happened?”
“I think so,” James admitted casually.
“Oh my god, Dad,” Lily said. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Encourage what?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know what,” Lily admitted, glancing at James. “But I know him. Whatever it is, it’ll be dramatic.”
James nodded once. “That’s fair.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, her father shrugged. “For the record, I claim no responsibility for whatever conclusions he draws from it.”
“Also fair,” James said.
“No, it is not!” Lily protested at once.
Lily’s parents both laughed, and James pretended to be offended. After a moment, her father looked between them. There was a contemplative look on his face, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say what was on his mind.
“So, where are you two off to now?” He finally asked.
Lily understood at once what he was offering. He had spent all night giving little signals of his approval: a clap on the shoulder, laughter, teasing, easy conversation. But this was an extension of trust, the very concept he had spent ten minutes speaking about earlier. He wasn’t asking about their plans because he intended to control them; he was asking because he intended to let them go.
“Not far from here, actually,” James said. “Our friend, Sirius, he’s got a flat in Fitzrovia.”
“The one you told us about from school?” her mother asked, looking at Lily.
“Sirius Black?” her father added, surprising her with his recall.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Lily answered.
She tried to recall what details she had offered up about Sirius. Had she mentioned he was an impulsive risk-taker? Or just that he was fiercely loyal and would sooner lay down his life than do anything to hurt James and, by extension, Lily? Or, really, anyone he loved. Oh, god, she hoped she hadn’t brought up the time Sirius had somehow smuggled a motorcycle onto the Hogwarts grounds and drunkenly crashed it into the Black Lake.
“The handsome one?” her father clarified.
“The handsome one?” James echoed, eyeing her.
She refused to back down. “You are handsome. Sirius is objectively The Handsome One.”
“Objectively?” He was becoming an echo chamber.
“I said what I said,” Lily said firmly.
James blinked behind his glasses. “Wow.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “James, you yourself have referred to him as the handsome one.”
He didn’t bother denying it. Not even for the bit. “Yeah, but that’s because it’s offensive how good-looking he is.”
“It is.” Lily nodded her head in agreement.
“It’s all the inbreeding,” he added sagely.
Lily sighed. “James.”
“What?” he said. “I’m not wrong. You know how the Blacks are.”
Lily’s mother choked on a laugh. Meanwhile, her father looked bewildered.
“I’m sorry, you said it’s the what?” he interjected.
James immediately brightened. “Oh. Right. So.”
“No,” Lily interrupted quickly before he could really get started.
“What?” James said defensively.
She clutched at his arm as if to physically hold him back from the conversation. “You are not explaining wizarding aristocracy to my parents.”
“But he asked,” James pointed out as if it was unthinkable not to answer a question.
“No,” Lily said, although she knew James did love to answer a good question.
“I feel like that’s exclusionary,” James objected.
“If I let you start on this tangent, we’ll be here for hours!”
And they had to get Sirius’s flat, didn’t they? Everything felt better now, between them. Improved, but not right. James seemed to understand what she meant. He dropped the indignant act.
“Fine,” he said, but he eyed her hopefully. “Next time, then.”
Lily sighed. “Yes, next time, I suppose.”
Her mother pressed her lips together when James beamed at Lily. “I understand now why you called him dramatic.”
“Not yet, you don’t.” Lily rolled her eyes affectionately. “Anyway, we should grab our coats.”
“I’ll get them,” James offered.
“I’ll go with you,” her father said, nodding toward where Petunia and Vernon were speaking with the venue attendant. “Looks like we’ve just got to settle up and we’ll be out as well.”
“So, Sirius’s flat,” her mother said, tone cautiously light, as the men disappeared together.
Lily hesitated, weighing her options. She could downplay the location. She could say that Sirius had been talking about having people over for ages. She didn’t want to lie to her mother.
“Sirius’s flat,” was all she settled on.
“What time will you be home?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know,” Lily said truthfully. “Late, I’d guess.”
Her mother eyed her suspiciously. “You will be home tonight, won’t you?”
Lily didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. But it didn’t seem like she needed to because her mother suddenly sighed. “Oh, I’m going to have quite the time handling your father over this, you know.”
“After his speech about trust?” Lily said innocently.
Her mother did not laugh. “Lily.”
Lily sighed. “Mum.”
“Just be safe, right? I don’t know what kind of magical precautions there are, but you do know about our kind of precautions, don’t you?”
“Mum!” she hissed, flushing deeply.
“I’m serious,” her mother said.
“It’s not like that,” Lily insisted. “We need to talk.”
“Sure, I do believe you fully intend to talk to your boyfriend tonight,” her mother said. “Even that you need to have a very serious talk with him. But after that?”
Lily hesitated because, as awkward as it was, she wanted to be honest. She didn’t feel any shame about her relationship with James, other than the inward shame surrounding their awful argument. But she didn’t know what would happen after they talked. They would be alone. In a flat. Where there would ostensibly be a bed. Sirius’s bed, which was off-putting, but Sirius would not be present. And their emotions would be running high. She simply did not know if tonight would be the night. The night that she had wanted when she’d snuck into James’s dormitory only to discover him gone.
Rather than lie to her mother, intentionally or otherwise, Lily settled on a very diplomatic, “I know all the precautions.”
Her mother studied her for a long moment. Finally, she sighed and reached out to tuck an escaped strand of hair behind Lily’s ear. “You’re sensible.”
“Mum?” Lily said uncertainly.
“Really, you are,” her mother continued a bit too briskly. “Far more sensible than I was at your age.”
“That’s a terrifying thought,” Lily said.
“No,” her mother said. “It’s a comforting one.”
“Mum,” Lily said again.
“Really, it is.” Her mother placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders, not exactly to hold her in place, but so that she could really look at her daughter. “You spend half the year – more than half the year – in a castle in a different country in a society in which your father and I cannot reach you. We have to trust that we raised you to be wise and sensible enough to make your own decisions because since you were eleven years old, we stopped having the final word.” She paused, considered. “For the most part. There have been little things. Permission forms. Whether or not you should have a pet with you at school.”
“I should have been allowed one,” Lily grumbled.
Her mother smiled softly. “Maybe you should have.”
“I’ve still got a semester left,” Lily reminded her mother hopefully.
“Don’t push your luck,” her mother said firmly, but there was a smile in her eyes.
“A cat would hardly be pushing my luck,” Lily argued.
“Lily.”
“A very small cat,” she countered.
“Lily.”
“A kitten. An orange one,” Lily continued.
Her mother did not bother with another reply. It would only have been her name again, Lily knew. She smiled despite herself.
“You know what I mean, though.” Her mother’s green eyes were penetrating, searching, imploring her to understand.
“I know what you mean,” Lily said. It wasn’t about pets, or precautions. It wasn’t even about James. It was about Lily’s ability to make life-changing decisions for herself.
“Your father and I trust you,” she said.
Lily felt the words settle in her chest. It was strange how deeply they affected her. She knew her parents trusted her; they had sent her off to another country on a train every year since she was eleven. Hearing the words said aloud felt different.
“I know,” Lily whispered.
“Don’t forget to trust yourself, too.”
The door to the hall opened and Lily and her mother turned to see James walking out of the coat check area with two coats folded over his arm. Her father followed close behind them. James was talking animatedly, and Lily had a sneaking suspicion that her father had asked him again about wizarding aristocracy.
As exasperated as she was over the possibility that James could have launched into his explanatory tangent even after her warning, she had to smile. Her father, walking just a step behind, was listening with obvious interest as James ranted, talking with his hands as he often did when he was particularly enthralled in what he was saying. It struck her quite suddenly that she was looking at the single most significant man in her life and the man who very well may outrank him someday.
“I think you’ll be just fine,” her mother whispered in her ear.
James fell suspiciously silent as they drew closer and he realized Lily was watching him.
“We can continue this conversation tomorrow,” her father told James.
“What’s tomorrow?” Lily asked as James helped her into her coat.
James beamed at her. “Your father invited me for breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” Lily repeated, bemused.
“I accepted,” James informed her very matter-of-factly. As if it was no big deal. Of course, it was.
“That seems fast,” Lily said.
“I like him,” her father informed her. Behind her, she could practically feel James’s chest puffing up proudly. “He seems enthusiastic.”
“I am very enthusiastic,” James agreed.
“Oh, my god, let’s go,” Lily said, pulling him away from her parents. The flush on her cheeks wasn’t entirely embarrassment. She was absurdly pleased by the development.
“Nine o’clock, James,” her father called after them. Considering, he checked his watch. “Better make it ten.”
“Yes, sir!” James called back.
Lily dragged him out into the cold night.
She generally hated Side-Along Apparition. It was somehow worlds more uncomfortable than regular Apparition, like she was being squeezed through space with a second person in a magical portal that was only really built for James. She and Marlene had done it over summer break a few times when they’d gone to the beach together, and then out to a pub, and later back to her parents’ house to sleep off the night out. She’d nearly splinched – but that was a risk with regular drunk Apparition, as well – and had sworn off Side-Along.
Of course, when James pointed out that she did not know where Sirius’s flat was, she didn’t have a strong argument against it. So, she took his hand again, and allowed him to pull her along. It was, as expected, dreadful. She felt like she should be 8 meters tall and thin as a piece of parchment by the time they landed on the welcome mat. But when she stumbled – because she always stumbled on the landing with Side-Along – and fell into him and his arm wrapped around her waist to steady her, she forgot all about the discomfort.
They stood there for a moment, and then James released her so that he could tap the lock with his wand and open the door with his other hand. When they were both inside, James tapped the lock again and stowed his wand in his pocket.
He turned to her in the entryway and stared at her through the dark. The only light was from a streetlamp filtering in through the window. They were finally alone, and they hadn’t a clue how to handle it now.
Suddenly, he jumped. “Here, I’ll take your coat.”
There was a flurry of movement as he helped her out of her coat and then shucked his. He found the lightswitch and flipped it on as he stepped to the hall closet to hang their coats.
Lily was suddenly very aware that she was standing in the entryway of Sirius Black’s empty flat wearing a pretty dress, and she was alone with her boyfriend who was in a surprisingly well put together muggle suit and looking as handsome as she had ever seen him. Under more normal circumstances, they would have already thrown themselves at each other.
As it was, they found themselves yet again watching each other from opposite ends of the entryway.
James ruffled his hair. “Er, follow me. I’ll give the grand tour.”
He seemed to decide to pour his nervous energy into hosting. He led her through the dining room, pointed out the bathroom, gestured into the kitchen, led her through the sitting room.
“There’s the bedroom,” he said, gesturing to the open door at the end of another hallway. “There’s a real nice bathroom in there. He pointed at a closed door to his right. And the linen closet.”
It was a nice place, Lily mused, especially for a seventeen year-old wizard living alone. It was furnished with high quality items that all went together. The rug in the sitting room even matched the couch. The only note she had was the walls were suspiciously bare. All of them.
“I expected more photos of naked women,” she admitted as he led her back into the sitting room and she took a seat on the nice, plush couch. He looked at her sharply, and she shrugged. “I’ve seen his magazines in your dormitory. He doesn’t exactly hide them, does he?”
“Whatever you do, don’t look in the linen closet.” James told her.
She glanced down the hall toward the door in question. “Why would he have crude posters in the linen closet?”
James shrugged. “My mother visits on occasion.”
“Your mother’s never looked in the linen closet?” she asked shrewdly.
“Not since the first time,” he called over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen.
“Do you want a drink?” He opened the icebox. Quickly closed it and opened a cupboard. “Er … there’s whiskey.”
He turned from the cupboard with a mostly empty bottle in his hand.
Lily shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
James looked at her, then at the bottle. “Right. Better not.”
He immediately returned the bottle to the cupboard. “Oh! He’s got tea.”
He was already halfway across the kitchen, already summoning mugs, when she spoke.
“James.” She said it softly, quietly. He heard her immediately because of course he was painfully aware of her. He turned to her, a small tin in his hands now. She patted the cushion beside her. “Sit.”
He did. Immediately, without hesitation, tin still clutched in his hands, mugs still following him. Lily fished her wand out of her bra. She pretended not to notice James failing in his valiant effort to not look at her cleavage. It was forgivable, under the circumstances. She waved her wand and vanished the mugs, then very gently pried the tin from his grasp before setting it, and her wand, on the coffee table.
She took a deep breath and turned to him; he was staring at her, eyes wide behind his glasses. She couldn’t help it; she laughed.
To her immense relief, he did not seem offended. Some of the tension drained from his body. His hands, which had still been poised as if clutching the confiscated tea tin, fell into his lap. He chuckled, then lifted one hand to rake through his hair.
“You’re scared too, right?” he asked.
“Terrified,” she confirmed.
He nodded. “Just checking.” Then, “c’mere.”
She practically launched herself into his arms, all but climbed into his lap when he wrapped himself around her. For several moments, they stayed like that.
“I missed you,” she whispered against his chest.
“I missed you too,” he breathed against her hair. “I missed us.”
“God,” she exhaled. “Please can we never spend two weeks ignoring each other again?”
“Four,” James corrected. “There was the week before the Astronomy Tower, and then the week away from school counts.”
“The point stands,” Lily said, drawing back just enough to look up at him.
“I can agree to that,” James told her. “If you can agree to just talk to me when something’s bothering you.”
So. They were starting there. She supposed it was as good a starting point as any.
Lily sat back so that they could truly see one another again. James didn’t let her get far; he took her hands in his, intertwining their fingers on both hands, and let them fall into her lap as he met her gaze earnestly.
“I didn’t even…I didn’t know I had anything to tell you.” He looked almost confused, still. Like he knew what the argument was, but it was still baffling how it had gotten so huge. “It’s just something we don’t talk about. Ever. It just is. Lily, it never occurred to me not to trust you with it.”
It made sense, kind of. She supposed in a way it was like a routine for him and the boys: Normal life. Full moon. Transform. Survive. Transform again. Normal life. Repeat. And if it was something that they didn’t talk about, like they didn’t really talk about Remus being a werewolf, it wouldn’t come up in natural everyday conversation with her. She could understand that. But that wasn’t really the issue.
“I can accept that,” she told him. She watched the relief wash over him. “And I can still feel like I was left out of a very large part of your life for a very long time.”
Regret filled his eyes. “Lily…”
“I just…it made me feel like I was standing on the outside of something I believed I was already part of,” she continued. Tears filled her eyes, and she looked down at their joined hands before they could fall. “Really consider my position. You’d shared so much already. The cloak, the map, the secret passages, the late-night excursions, the other boys. I thought I knew it all. And then one night – early morning, really – I walked into your dormitory to realize I didn’t know the biggest detail about your life. And they all did. Sirius, Remus, Peter. And not only did they know, they were part of it. Active participants. And I was alone in the dark standing in your dormitory feeling foolish.”
“It’s not,” was all he could articulate at first.
“What?” she asked, looking up to see fresh tear tracks down his cheeks.
“It’s not the biggest detail about my life,” he said. “I don’t even think of it as a detail in my life. It’s a detail in Remus’s.”
And there it was. She had known it would come up. She had known he would come up. Remus. Poor, sad, disheveled, kind Remus Lupin. Remus who had been her friend even when she hadn’t particularly like James and Sirius. Remus who always had chocolate on him and always shared it freely when he sensed she needed some. Remus who had once been a little boy who was attacked by a monster, and was now a werewolf.
She couldn’t hold it against Remus.
And she couldn’t hold it against James that he had done this thing, this massive, life-altering, highly illegal thing, to help Remus. Because he loved his best friend. Because he would do anything to help someone he loved. He would even break the law.
“You, and Sirius, and Remus, and Peter. Quidditch, and Transfiguration, and getting up to stupid mischievous acts,” James listed. “Those are the important details in my life. Not being an Animagus.”
Lily’s chest tightened. He had listed her first. Above Sirius, even. Maybe he hadn’t put any thought to the order at all, or maybe he had. Maybe it meant everything. Regardless, it wasn’t lost on her that he had included her. Not apart from them, but among them.
“James,” she said softly. “I understand that you view things differently. I understand that you’re prioritizing the people that matter over everything else. But you have to realize. Being an Animagus is objectively a big detail. Being an unregistered one is even bigger. And the fact that you managed it at seventeen…”
She trailed off when he winced.
“What?” she asked.
“Fifteen,” he corrected almost timidly. “We were fifteen.”
Lily blinked. Then her breath left her in a whoosh. “Fifteen.”
“Well, almost sixteen. It was January. Sirius had just had his birthday when he and I managed it. Peter took a little longer.” He paused, considered her shocked expression. “That wasn’t the key takeaway, was it?”
“You were fifteen?” she repeated, voice verging on shrill. “That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” he said.
“James!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said hurriedly, and he looked truly panicked now. “Does it make it more or less ridiculous that it took us three years?”
“James!” she repeated.
“Yes?”
“Are you implying that you and your idiotic-bordering-on-genius friends starting trying to become Animagi when you were twelve years old?” Lily asked, mind reeling.
“I don’t think it was implied. I think it was stated,” he said. “Does that make it better or worse?”
Lily considered. “Somehow, I think it makes it better.”
He stared at her. “Really? I mean, not that I’m complaining. But…how?”
“Because…” She sighed. “I’m realizing now that…well, it’s brand new to me. But it’s old news to you. It’s been five years. You really do hardly think about it, don’t you?”
“Well, not never,” he admitted quietly. “I think about it every month. I think about it in different terms. I think about if Moony is going to be particularly feral and scratch one of us, if we’re going to need dittany afterward. I wonder if Wormtail remembered to bring a change of clothes for Remus. I hope Padfoot doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“Mostly I think about helping Remus through the transformation.” He shrugged, and looked quite helplessly across at her. “The Animagus bit…it’s just how it all happens.”
It was all so practical. Nothing about it seemed particularly exciting the way he described it, if you took out the dangerous bits. It really was just part of his monthly routine. She had her own monthly routine, didn’t she? Only, hers involved far less potential for violence and injury. The funny thing was that James had to put up with hers, too.
It wasn’t that it seemed not to be enjoyable for him – she was sure there were moments of fun, running around with his best mates – but that wasn’t why he did it. It seemed he primarily viewed it as a responsibility. An obligation. A duty. Not one he resented, of course, but one he would never shirk.
“That is a very reasonable explanation,” she said carefully. “But do you have to be unregistered?”
He went very still, and was very quiet for a moment. And then, visibly steeling himself as though frightened he was about to undo all of the progress they had just made, he told her, “Yes.”
She stood and paced away from him.
She didn’t bother asking why. He’d already explained that piece up on the Astronomy Tower, hadn’t he? Because if they suddenly registered, already fully realized Animagi, the ministry would want to know how they had managed, and why. And they could lie and make excuses, but the question would remain. And the answer would always come back to one reason. Remus.
And betraying Remus was non-negotiable.
She understood that.
When she stopped her pacing and turned back to look at him, he was already watching her. And it broke her heart how vulnerable, how terrified, how uncertain he looked with tears brimming in his beautiful hazel eyes.
Without choosing to, without even considering it, she crossed the room and knelt on the floor in front of him. She took his hands in hers, clutched them tightly.
“I need you to understand something,” she said, almost pleading.
He swallowed thickly and nodded. “I can try.”
“I need you to understand that this terrifies me,” she told him. “Not that you can do this ridiculously complicated transformation that no seventeen year-old should be able to accomplish, much less a fifteen year-old. Not because you are a reckless idiot; I knew that when I agreed to go out with you. Not even because you put yourself in mortal peril every month.”
He laughed, just once, and then was serious again. “Then why?”
She smiled at him through her tears. “Because I’m terribly selfish, James.”
He frowned and shook his head, immediately rejecting the idea.
But she nodded. “Yes, I am. I’m not afraid that you’re not capable of handling this. You’re one of the most talented wizards I know. I’m not afraid that you’ll be hurt. I’ve seen you take a Bludger to the head and make it to class the next day.”
“McGonagall was going over Conjuration. I didn’t want to miss that,” James said weakly.
“James,” she said, clutching his hands tighter. “I’m terrified that someone will find out, and you’ll be taken from me.”
“That won’t happen,” he said.
“You can’t promise that,” Lily said.
“We’re careful, Lily,” he countered.
“James,” she repeated, gaping at him. “I literally found you out last month!”
He grimaced and pulled one hand out of hers to punctuate his point. “That was Sirius, not me.”
“It’s the same thing!”
“Sirius and I are not interchangeable, I’ll have you know,” James said indignantly. “It’s very important to me that you, as my girlfriend, understand that.”
“Oh, would you shut up!” Lily exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. She jumped up and placed her hands over her hips, standing over him. “I’m trying to explain to you that I’m terrified of the Ministry dragging you away from me because I’m in love with you and you’re bringing up Sirius Black!”
James froze. His mouth snapped shut.
And Lily suddenly realized what she had said. Her face got very, very hot very, very suddenly. She had not meant to say it like that. Not the first time, at least. She was sure there would be plenty of opportunities for her to proclaim her love out of exasperation, even anger. In the future. Not the very first time. That was supposed to soft, and sweet. Wasn’t it?
She turned and strode away from him.
“Where are you going?” he asked, sounding strangled.
“I think I will have some whiskey after all,” she said in a clipped tone.
Suddenly, James was behind her. She didn’t hear him get up, didn’t hear his footsteps. She felt him behind her a second before his hands were on her waist, pulling her to a halt and turning her to face him.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said.
“James, please,” she said in a very small voice.
“You just said you love me,” he said.
“I did,” she said.
“You love me?” he asked.
“Of course I do!” she exclaimed. “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.”
“But I love you,” he said simply.
Lily stared at him. It was the first time he had said it as well. But it didn’t come as a surprise to her. “I know you do.”
He nodded, fully accepting that. He had always been much more open with his feelings. “So, why are you so embarrassed?”
She thought for a moment and came up blank. “Well…I don’t know.”
“Is it because you shouted it?” he asked, pulling her closer by the waist.
“Shut up,” she mumbled even as she allowed herself to wind her arms around the back of his neck.
“Because I thought it was rather romantic. You were defending my honour against the Ministry,” he said.
“No, I don’t think I was, actually,” she argued.
“I think you were a little bit,” he whispered.
“For the love of God, would you just kiss me already?”
Henry Keoughan is halfway through whatever self-important rant he's on when Lily finally can’t take anymore. The seventh year Ravenclaw has been trying to have it on with her for weeks now and she has been mostly tolerant, not because she’s interested in him, necessarily, but because he’s actually rather intelligent – as Ravenclaws tend to be – when he’s not being an insufferable berk like he is currently.
"Oh, for God's sake, Henry,” she snaps suddenly, rolling her eyes. She’s had enough. Quite literally, she cannot stand another second of listening to this particular diatribe. Not when it had become personal.
"I'm just saying –” he continues in that same self-righteous tone.
"No, you're not,” she says with some heat. “You're talking. There's a difference."
“ – that you only scored that Ministry connection because Slughorn likes showing off talented girls.” He actually has the nerve to speak over her, as if her words are inconsequential to what he is saying, just like her achievements are inconsequential to the Ministry connection she had indeed secured during the last Slug Club meeting. At least according to him.
Lily sees red. “What’s the matter, Keoughan? Insecure because a sixth year Gryffindor is more talented than you?”
His face darkens.
"You know what your problem is, Evans?"
Lily crosses her arms over her middle and puts some effort into looking bored. "That I keep having conversations with you?" she drawls.
A few nearby students snort. Henry's ears go red. "Fuck you."
The words reverberate through the corridor. He’d spoken louder than she thinks he meant to. Ravenclaws debate sensibly; they do not shout.
For a heartbeat, everything goes silent.
Lily tilts her head. Then she smiles. "Nah. I'll get someone else to do that."
The laughter is immediate, and raucous. Henry looks horrified, and humiliated. Not for the first time he’s been outwitted by a Gryffindor girl a year below him. Lily feels a flash of savage satisfaction.
And then a voice behind her says, "Hey, I volunteer."
Cool, and confident. The speaker is not laughing, but very clearly thinks what he’s said is funny. Given the circumstances, it objectively is.
The corridor erupts with laughter, chatter, whispers. It’s not that someone said it. It’s who said it. Because she knows that voice. Of course she knows that voice.
Everyone knows James Potter’s voice.
She turns slowly to find him standing a few feet away with Sirius doubled over beside him and Remus pinching the bridge of his nose as if already exhausted by whatever is about to happen.
James is grinning. He’s not serious, not even remotely. Well, given that it’s James Potter, he may be a little serious. She can never quite tell with him, but she does know that he is incapable of letting a joke pass him by, and she had set him up for quite the zinger.
Lily hadn't even known he was there. Under normal circumstances she'd roll her eyes and tell him to shut up.
Instead she catches sight of Henry's expression: disbelieving and horribly insecure in the sudden, terrible realization that he has absolutely no idea where he stands in this argument.
And Lily is still angry, so righteously angry. So she turns, marches right up to Potter.
And grabs his hand.
The corridor falls silent.
James blinks. The humour is still present in his eyes, but it is quickly fading to uncertainty.
Lily starts walking, all but dragging him for a few steps before his feet catch up and he falls into step beside her.
"Evans?" he says.
"Come on,” she mutters. She does not meet anyone’s gaze as the chatter around them begins to grow louder, more excited by this intriguing development.
"Where are we going?" James asks.
"Anywhere that isn't here,” she tells him loud enough for those nearest them to hear.
His hand tightens around hers automatically as she pulls him along. Behind them, Sirius makes a choking noise. Someone actually applauds. There are cheers as if people have been waiting for this moment for years, which is confusing. Someone wolf-whistles as they pass.
Henry looks like he's just been punched in the stomach.
Perfect.
Lily keeps walking. James keeps following.
One corridor.
Two.
Three.
She doesn't stop until they've turned enough corners that nobody can see them anymore.
Then she comes to a halt and turns to him. He looks bewildered, but not unhappily so. There is a tiny self-satisfied smile playing at the sharp corners of his mouth.
Lily opens her mouth to speak, then freezes. She looks down, realizes that she is still holding James’s hand. He doesn’t seem to need to look down to confirm that fact; he’s been painfully aware the entire time.
The slight smile begins to shift into a slow, dangerous grin.
"Lily,” he sings.
“No.” She shakes her head and tries to pull her hand away. He tightens his hold.
"You dragged me away,” he observes, still in that agitating melodic tone.
"I recall,” she says in a clipped tone that would have been more effective if their fingers weren’t still intertwined.
"By the hand,” he adds. As if she isn’t aware of the single point of contact between them.
"Yes,” she sighs, trying again to pull away from him. She isn’t surprised when he still doesn’t let go.
"In front of witnesses,” he reminds her.
“I was there, Potter,” she says through gritted teeth.
“In front of the guy who’s been trying to get you to sleep with him for weeks.”
She points a finger at him, which only serves to make him grin even wider.
"Do not make this weird,” she threatens.
His grin softens a bit, but doesn’t fade completely. "I'm not making it weird.”
"You absolutely are,” she insists, but this time when she tugs her hand, he lets it slide away and she has to admit to herself that the situation isn’t weird. Well, yes, it is. But it’s not uncomfortable.
“No,” he says, tone light and easy and conversational. Like the entire exchange wasn’t built on the suggestion of the two of them running off to shag. "I'm merely observing that if anyone asks, I think this counts as a public declaration."
“You’re insane,” she says. She doesn’t mean it, and he knows it. She knows that he knows.
Which is infuriating in itself. Because as annoying as James Potter is, she realizes that she knows him, and he knows her. Which is complicated considering that she has, at times, very publicly declared her disdain for him. Not recently, of course. They’re friends now, which is why she had felt fine dragging him away as she had.
But still…
Her heart does a funny little flutter when he laughs. Not smugly, but delighted, as if the entire situation is the funniest thing that has happened to him all week. It probably is.
Lily hates that she starts laughing too. Because it is funny in an absurd way.
"It worked," she says after a moment when they have both stopped laughing and are just standing there in the corridor smiling at each other, basking in the euphoria of the stunt they’ve just pulled.
"What worked?"
"Henry."
James's grin softens into something more fond as understanding flashes across his face. “Oh.”
He is quiet for a moment. Then, he smirks at her. "He thinks we were serious."
"Yes,” she says. She had seen it in his face as she had dragged Potter away. She doesn’t want to think about why Henry and everyone else had thought there was a possibility they hadn’t been joking.
"And you wanted him to think that." It isn’t a question. Not really. But in a way it is. A clarifier, perhaps.
"I…” she pauses. “I wanted him to spend the rest of the day wondering."
James nods solemnly. "A noble goal."
She smiles despite herself. "Thank you."
"I am, of course, happy to assist your cause."
Lily rolls her eyes. "So selfless."
He sighs as if carrying a heavy burden. "The things I do for my fellow students."
She laughs, and turns to walk away. He follows, of course he does, and falls quickly into step with her. She doesn’t object.
“We weren’t dating,” Lily says suddenly. She doesn’t know why she says it. It doesn’t matter. But something compelled her to tell him.
“I know,” James tells her. There is a strange tone in his voice as he continues, like he is choosing his words carefully. “He was never worth your time.”
She glances at him sidelong. “No, he wasn’t.”
They walk aimlessly for a while, not in any real direction. Just comfortable in each other’s company. Then, he breaks the silence.
"For the record."
“Here it comes,” Lily groans. “You’re about to ruin the moment.”
“Was there a moment?” he says a little too casually. “Whatever, no, I’m not ruining anything.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No,” he insists. Then, “But...”
She sighs, waiting.
"I did volunteer my services.”
"You were joking,” she says. It was obviously a joke, but some part of her is worried there could have been some level of truth to it.
"I was,” he agrees.
"Good.”
"Mostly."
Lily stops walking and turns to him.
James immediately raises both hands. "I'm kidding."
"James Potter,” she said warningly.
He laughs, not intimidated in the slightest. "I'm kidding!"
She narrows her eyes. He smiles innocently.
Lily knows better. The annoying thing is that he knows she knows better, which is somehow exactly what makes her laugh again.
Behind them, somewhere back in the castle, Henry Keoughan is probably still trying to figure out whether he just witnessed the beginning of something. Lily hopes he never gets an answer.
James, meanwhile, looks entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had merely volunteered his services for the sake of an easy joke.
She has to take him down a notch because of course she does. That’s what Lily Evans does. "Don't get used to it."
"To what?" James asks.
"Holding my hand,” she tells him.
His grin widens again. “Too late.”
He reaches down and slides his hand back into hers. Lily doesn’t pull away.
i got on my computer fully intending to work on the final installment of A Matter of Trust and ended up working on a different (exciting and not at all posted) story instead and then i opened tumblr and got distracted yet again
I still can't get over that after the world read about Sirius "breaking out of Azkaban and living in a cave eating rats" Black and Remus "leaving my pregnant wife because of a cursed chronic condition that makes me and my family an outcast" Lupin and went:
That's right...
In all AUs Harry gets raised by someone who loves him, it's Remus and Sirius together.
For the record, I do not think Sirius is in a position to raise a traumatized child at any point in this series. That said, if it is a choice between Sirius or Remus or both of them together my stance has always been as follows.
100% Sirius is the one who should be raising Harry and he should be doing it mostly on his own.
And it's not because he's more emotionally or mentally stable than Remus. He's definitely not. Not that Remus is perfect; they're both tragically messed up after all they've endured.
But because Harry knew Remus for an entire school year before he actually met Sirius. Harry had countless private lessons with Remus and spent a significant amount of time alone with him during PoA. And even after Remus revealed to Harry that he knew his parents, he never tried to be anything more than a cool teacher to him.
He never tried to share any stories with Harry about James and Lily, never mentioned that Harry would have grown up knowing Remus as an uncle had James and Lily not been murdered.
Harry spends maybe an hour with Sirius, with a bunch of other people in a confusing life-or-death situation. He goes from "this is the man who betrayed my parents and got them killed. I'm going to kill him" to "actually he's innocent and he was my parents' best friend and he would have died for them if he could have and I want to live with him" remarkably quickly.
And that obviously doesn't work out, but a few months later when Harry has his nightmare-vision and wakes up with his scar hurting he doesn't write Remus who has given him plenty of evidence that he might know a thing or two about dark magic and how to counteract it and the possible side-effects of dark magic.
No. He writes to Sirius. The godfather who should have raised him, who immediately put himself out there and tried to establish an emotional connection with Harry once Harry realized he was innocent.
And in GoF when Harry is scared and in mortal peril and not on speaking terms with his best friend, it's Sirius who travels to him, who hides out in caves in Hogsmeade, who risks his freedom to be there for Harry and provide support.
Not Remus.
And at the end of the tournament when Harry has just seen something awful, been traumatized, watched a boy die, been tied up and cut and watched Voldemort return to a full body, it is Sirius, not Remus, who shows up in the Hospital Wing for him.
Sirius, who is still a wanted man, who is still sure to face the Dementors if the Ministry catches him.
Not Remus, who was physically close to Harry for a full school year and still did his best to keep an emotional distance from him.
Remus is not the kind of person who can raise a child.
Not because he doesn't want to. Not because he doesn't care.
But because he doesn't think he's worthy of the emotional connection.
Sirius is not emotionally stable. But he's emotionally available to Harry, and that matters.
When James confronts Lily about her sudden distance, he discovers she's uncovered a secret he never consciously kept from her, and their relationship is strained when his loyalty to his friends collides with the future he wants with Lily.
A continuation of A Late Night Epiphany
AO3
James Potter wasn’t the most experienced bloke when it came to girls and dating and relationships. He had been in love with Lily Evans since she had looked him in the eyes third year, face nearly as red as her hair, so enraged she was after he had hexed an unsuspecting Snape, and told him he was no better than the scummy Dark Arts worshippers he proclaimed to hate. He had tried to ignore it, the way his stomach tumbled when she was near, the way his heart clenched when her green eyes flashed in his direction, the way his entire body tensed when her arm occasionally brushed his in Herbology. He had tried to like other girls, had tried dating and snogging and moving on, but the effort had been short-lived when he realized that other girls, even when plastered to his lap, ceased to exist to him when Lily Evans walked into the room.
He hadn’t ever been in a real relationship before her, and therefore had never been in a relationship spat before. But he knew his girlfriend, and something was bothering Lily, and given that she seemed to be avoiding him at every turn, he could only assume it had something to do with him.
For nearly a week now she had barely spoken to him, had denied his every request to be alone, to talk, to walk to class together, to sit with him in the library, or down by the lake and sure it was bitterly cold out this late in November, so he couldn’t really hold the last one against her, but given everything else along with it, it was clear to see. She was freezing him out, and it was really, really bothering him. At first, it had made him frustrated, bordering on angry because it was so wildly new to him, and so out of the ordinary for their relationship. He had put a lot of effort into having a healthy, communicative relationship with her, had been determined not to fall into their old argumentative ways because he so desperately wanted to be with her for the long haul. He didn’t want to leave Hogwarts and let this all just fade away into a teenage fling. He didn’t want her to be his one who got away.
He was no longer angry about it. That had been short-lived, as well. Now he was heartsick. All day he hadn’t been able to eat, couldn’t concentrate during lessons, had nearly flown into the goal post during Quidditch practice this evening, and now he couldn’t sleep. He felt nauseous and anxious and like he was ready to jump out of his skin. He just…wanted to talk to her. More than anything else, he wanted to know what was going on, wanted to fix it.
Curtains drawn around his bed, he was sitting crosslegged, wandtip illuminated as he pored over the Marauders Map. It wasn’t fully unfolded; Gryffindor Tower was obscured by one flap. He’d done it intentionally because he knew he would only stare at Lily’s name in the girls’ dormitory if he didn’t cover it, and that felt creepy rather than heartsick. He wasn’t trying to creep on his girlfriend. He was simply making sure that nothing untoward was happening in the castle.
He had surprised even himself with how seriously he took the whole Head Boy business. It wasn’t like he was stalking the school breaking up amorous couples – that felt too hypocritical seeing as he and Lily had a tendency to snog even when they were supposed to be on rounds – but the closer he got to being a fully qualified wizard and entering the real world, the more aware he was becoming of just how awful the world was, and it was infiltrating the school. He liked to make sure nothing truly terrible was going on before he went to sleep. And seeing as he couldn’t sleep, he was simply patrolling the corridors from the comfort of his bed.
A solitary dot caught his attention in the Astronomy Tower.
Lily Evans.
He stared.
He blinked.
He stared again.
Lily Evans.
What was she doing all alone out of bed, so far from Gryffindor Tower, this far past curfew? She wasn’t a swot, wasn’t above a little rulebreaking, had oft enough gone gallivanting after hours with him, or one of her girl friends. But to go so far as the Astronomy Tower all by herself this late at night? That wasn’t like her. The kitchens, sure. The Astronomy Tower? Not alone. Hogwarts was relatively safe, but it was still dangerous to be out alone in the middle of the night.
His mind was racing, weighing his options. He could let her have her alone time, could ask her about it tomorrow. If she was speaking to him tomorrow. Or…he could go check on her.
He was out of bed before he could talk himself out of it. He didn’t bother changing out of his pyjamas, but he did grab his cloak from the back of his chair as he slid his feet into his slippers before he stole from the room. Thanks to his years of sneaking around, he was swift and silent as he moved through the castle, ducking into secret passageways most people knew nothing about, occasionally checking the map to ensure she hadn’t moved along.
She hadn’t. She was still there when he climbed the winding staircase and stepped out into the chilly night air. The wind was whipping her hair around, and her robes billowed around her as she stood looking out over the school grounds. He didn’t love that he had caught her unaware, was all too aware that someone with less innocent intentions could have done the same.
“Lily.” He said it quietly, softly, trying not to startle her. He was half convinced the wind would carry his voice away from her, but she jumped and turned, wand drawn on him in an instant. He lifted his hands in a show of innocence. He was holding his wand, of course, but it wasn’t drawn on her. “Whoa, easy! It’s me. It’s just me.”
“Oh my God, James!” she hissed, lowering her wand immediately when she realized he wasn’t a threat, but her boyfriend. Her emerald eyes were wide, her mouth open in horror as her non-dominant hand covered her heart. Her face was pale, making her lips look redder than they normally did, and there were shadows under her eyes. So, she wasn’t sleeping well either. “What’s wrong with you? I nearly cursed you!”
“I see that. I’m sorry,” he said, though he was proud of her for her quick draw on him, and walked forward. He stopped further away from her than he would ordinarily, leaving some space since she had been so distant with him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been…different…lately.”
She turned away from him, stepped to the waist-high wall of the parapet, and leaned against it, staring out into the sky. She didn’t shy away from him when he stepped up beside her, didn’t turn away again when he didn’t even try to hide that he was staring at her profile. The wind ruffled her long hair and James had to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out to comb his fingers through the tangles that were forming.
“How did you even know I was here?” she asked, not looking at him. “Were you tracking me on that map of yours?”
“No.” He shook his head when she looked at him, just slightly turning her head to level a skeptical glare at him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. But, well, it was the map. I was just looking to make sure nothing out of order was going on in the castle, and imagine my surprise when I saw you up here alone.”
Perhaps she saw the earnestness in his expression, or if not maybe she simply didn’t want to pick that particular fight with him. Whatever the reason, she turned to look over the grounds again.
“Lily, you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he said, and reached out for her. His fingers just barely brushed her arm when she pulled it away. Stung, he let his hand drop to his side. “Okay, what is going on with you?”
“I came up here to be alone with my thoughts, James,” she said coldly, and wrapped her arms around her middle.
It was very cold, and the air was crisp and sharp in a way that promised snow. James could practically smell it coming. He hadn’t dressed for this kind of cold, and neither had she.
“I’ve left you alone with your thoughts for six days,” he replied, patience waning quickly. “Alone time’s up, Lily. It’s we’re-in-a-relationship time now, and we need to talk.”
“Well I’m not ready to talk to you! You can’t bully me around in our own damn relationship!” Lily snapped.
“I’m not bullying you, Lily!” he practically shouted. He forced himself to take a deep, grounding breath, and then he reached out and took her arm, ignoring how she halfheartedly tried to pull it out of his grasp again, and turned her to face him. “I’m begging you. Just talk to me.”
She shook her head, and her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I can’t.”
“I touched you in ways I’ve never touched anyone before, Lily, in ways I never really believed you’d allow. You touched me in ways no one ever has, in ways I don’t want anyone else to, ever.” She looked confused at the mention of what they’d got up to a week ago, but he couldn’t think of anything else that had changed in their relationship, anything else he could possibly have done wrong. “I thought…I thought everything was good. Great. Perfect. I thought our relationship was stronger than ever. I don’t understand what I did wrong, Lily, and it’s breaking my heart.”
“It’s not that, James,” Lily said weakly, looking as close to tears as he felt. “That was lovely. It was perfect.”
“Then talk to me, Lily, please. I can’t let you just slip away from me. Please don’t slip away from me. Talk to me.” He was seconds from dropping to his knees at her feet and pleading. “If you’re angry with me, yell me at me, scream at me. If I’ve hurt you, tell me. Please. I can’t apologize for what I don’t know I’ve done to upset you.”
He wanted desperately to tell her he loved her, but he refused to have the first time he said those words to her feel like a manipulation tactic to get her to open up to him.
“You’ve lied to me,” she finally said.
He shook his head immediately. “No, I haven’t.”
Because he hadn’t. He had not lied to her once over the course of their relationship.
“I saw you,” she insisted, nodding adamantly.
“Saw me what?” James demanded, racking his brain for anything she could have seen him doing that she could have misunderstood, that she could have fixated on and convinced herself was something awful he had lied to her about. He came up blank. There was nothing. “What have I lied to you about?”
He had told her about the map, and his Invisibility Cloak. He had told her the truth about why Sirius lived with him instead of his own family. He had shown her all of the accessible secret passages out of the castle and into Hogsmeade. He had honestly answered every question she had ever asked of him, and he was offended to find that she could so easily think him a liar.
“Where do you go during the full moon?” she demanded.
He dropped her arm, felt his face go carefully blank as he took a stunned step back. “What?”
“You heard me,” she said, chin up defiantly even as her lower lip quivered. “I won’t repeat myself.”
“I haven’t lied to you about that,” he said slowly, voice low. “You’ve never asked.”
“Lied, withheld important information,” she spat, shaking her head at him. “Let’s not argue the semantics. Just answer the question.”
He opened his mouth, felt it close again as words failed him. Then, “You said you saw me. What did you see?”
“Not only you,” she whispered tremulously. “All four of you.”
“What did you see, Lily?” James repeated. He felt cold, and it had nothing to do with the impending snow.
“You tell me,” she said with a watery glower.
He hesitated.
“I can’t,” he whispered, because he wasn’t the only one at risk if he did.
“I went to your dormitory,” she told him, and a single tear fell from one eye and rolled down her cheek. She swiped it away before she continued. “I didn’t realize it was the full moon. All I could think about was you, and how I wanted you again, wanted your hands on my body again, and your mouth. And you weren’t there. None of you were there. That’s when I realized it was the full moon. I figured you were doing something sentimental for Remus, some sort of show of solidarity and would be back whenever it was done. I didn’t want to wait for you and make you think I was checking up on you, but I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk.”
She was shaking violently, and James numbly removed his cloak to drape it over her shoulders. She didn’t stop him.
“I was going to the kitchens for some tea or something else soothing,” she continued. A couple more tears fell, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. “And I stopped at that huge window near the Entrance Hall.”
James knew the one. It faced the Whomping Willow. He used to stop and stare and wonder how Remus was doing back when they were younger, when he couldn’t be there to help him through the transformation.
“And there you were. You and Peter, and a bedraggled Remus between you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “And a dog jumping and nipping and tugging at Peter’s clothes. Playful. And then it wasn’t a dog, but a man who draped himself over Peter’s shoulders and tried to wrestle him to the ground.”
James thought he might be sick. He’d thought for just a single moment that he’d heard footsteps ahead of them as they’d headed up to Gryffindor Tower, but he had convinced himself he was imagining it.
“An Animagus,” she breathed, and James closed his eyes, jaw clenching. “Sirius is brilliant, but he wouldn’t have done it alone. And you’re reckless, but you wouldn’t approach a werewolf during the full moon unless you knew he couldn’t infect you, and neither of you would ever put Peter at risk of being infected.”
Slowly, he opened his eyes. She was watching him, wide-eyed and tearful, and his own eyes were hot and stinging.
“I can’t apologize for that,” he breathed after a moment that stretched on far too long. “I won’t.”
“You’re not registered,” she said, as if he hadn’t spoken. “I knew you wouldn’t be, but I still checked. Do you know what the punishment is if the Ministry finds out?”
Yes, he did. They would be sent to Azkaban, the worst of all Wizarding prisons. He didn’t give a bleeding damn.
“We can’t register, Lily,” he said firmly.
“Why? Why can’t you go to McGonagall and tell her? She can help you go through the Ministry. Or Dumbledore. Between the two of them, they could…”
“We can’t, Lily!” he insisted, cutting her off.
“Why!” Lily threw her hands up. “You’re still in school for a while yet! The Ministry would be lenient, especially if McGonagall and Dumbledore got involved. You could easily say that you just did it for a laugh, to show off and impress everyone with your talent. Why would you expect me to be with a man who might be sent off to prison at any moment?”
“This isn’t about you, Lily!” he exclaimed, and gripped his hair in both hands when she looked as though he had slapped her. He forced himself to soften his tone. “I’m sorry that hurts your feelings, but it’s not. We did it to make Remus’s life easier! And it works! It helps him! We help him! That alone is worth the risk, because if everyone knew we were Animagi, they would demand to know why! No one would believe we did it to show off seeing as how we’ve kept it a bleeding secret for over two years! Werewolves have to register, too. Remus is registered; it’s just harder to find because he’s registered under an alias since he was a fucking toddler when that bastard turned him. They would know it was to do with him, and Remus would take the blame.”
Lily frowned, clearly dubious. “Why on earth would Remus be blamed for your actions?”
James scoffed.“You may not have noticed, but the world doesn’t take kindly to werewolves. Most people have no sympathy for them, not even for a little boy who was targeted for his father’s opinions. Remus has no prospects after school. No one hires werewolves for gainful employment. They’re second-class citizens. Worse, even.”
“I know a thing or two about that,” Lily said.
“No, you don’t!” James exclaimed, then stopped, and turned in a circle, sighing. “Yes, you do. You have an idea. But your parentage, as much as those idiots judge you for it, isn’t as easily identified as Remus’s affliction. You realize he physically cannot participate in society for a couple of days out of the month? He can’t turn up for work, and there’s no reasonable explanation for it other than the truth. He won’t be able to hold down a job. He has known this since he was just a child.”
Lily looked stricken. He knew she cared deeply for Remus. She had been friends with Remus for years before she had even tolerated James. Hell, Remus was the reason James had been able to befriend her in the first place. She had figured out that he was a werewolf on her own and had stuck by him just like James, Sirius, and Peter had. That didn’t mean she truly understood what it was he went through.
“And that’s just the shit he hasn’t even had to deal with yet,” James continued. “You know it hurts him, but you’ve never seen it. You haven’t lived it. You haven’t heard the screams, you haven’t watched bones snap and mend over and over and over again, you haven’t wrestled an angry snarling, snapping beast bent on rending his own flesh to shreds. You don’t understand.”
He stopped himself when he saw that her tears were starting up again. His heart was heavy in his chest, a painful brick that made it hard to breathe.
“You’re right,” he said. “I can’t expect you to tie yourself to me knowing if I slip up I could end up in Azkaban, so if you’re going to break up with me over this I’ll accept it. It’ll wreck me, but I’ll take it. I will not ever apologize to anyone – not even you – for what I’ve done to help my best friend through the worst recurring nightmare of his life. But…” He was trembling now, truly on the verge of breaking down, and terrified on top of heartbroken. She was crying in earnest now, but he wasn’t finished. “So help me, Lily, if you tell anyone about this…if you do anything to make Remus’s life even harder than it already is, I will never forgive you. I will hate you for it.”
She didn’t answer, clearly wasn’t capable of it as she lowered her face and sobbed into her hands, but he didn’t need an answer. He didn’t want one. Her sobs were heartrending enough. He had never, not even when they had been younger and at each other’s throats, been so harsh with her. He didn’t regret it. He would never mince his words when it came to protecting his best friends. Not even to soften the blow to the girl he loved who was breaking his heart.
“You’d better get back to your dormitory soon; you’ll freeze out here,” he said.
He’d been right about the dangers of the Astronomy Tower so late at night, he thought bitterly as he turned and walked away. Only, he hadn’t expected the danger to be to their hearts.
Just thinking about 33 year-old Sirius Black, who escaped from prison where he was heavily guarded by soul-sucking demons for 12 years and spent a year on the run, heavily depressed and out of his mind with rage and grief and a lifetime of trauma, hellbent on murder and revenge against the man who got his best friends killed and was responsible for his false imprisonment meeting his godson for the first time in 12 years and offering to take him in after one conversation that was entirely about Pettigrew's betrayal.
Sirius. My guy. My tragic baby.
You are in no position - mentally or emotionally - to raise a teenager.
If you're going to leave a rude comment on a fanfic that someone worked hard on, don't be a little bitch about it and hide behind an anonymous guest account.
If you're going to leave a rude comment on a fanfic that someone worked hard on, don't be a little bitch about it and hide behind an anonymous guest account.
I should be stuDYING right now, but here's some Jily~
Maybe
She's seen James Potter perform kindness before. This is the first time she sees him mean it.
Lily found the corridor by accident.
She'd taken the long way back from the library — the east staircase was faster, but it smelled like damp stone and something that might have been a Flobberworm colony, and she wasn't in the mood. The west passage ran behind the Charms classrooms and came out near the Fat Lady's portrait if you took the second left, but Lily had been thinking about the transfiguration essay due Friday and miscounted her turns, and now she was standing at the mouth of a narrow, dim corridor that dead-ended at a supply cupboard.
She was about to turn around when she heard it.
"—don't belong in this section of the castle, Mudblood—"
The word hit her like cold water. She'd heard it enough times to know she should keep walking. She didn't.
There were three of them: sixth-year Slytherins she recognized by face and house colours, not by name. She'd spent two years making a point of not learning the names of boys who said things like that. The one in front — tall, with the kind of blond hair that looked like it had been taught to be superior — had his wand out, though lazily, like he wasn't sure he'd need it. The other two flanked him in that specific Slytherin formation that was less about tactics and more about theatre.
The target of this particular theatre was a small girl with ink-stained fingers and the red-and-yellow tie of a Gryffindor first-year. She couldn't have been older than eleven. She was backed against the supply cupboard door, and her chin was lifted in that way Lily recognized immediately — the way you hold yourself when you refuse to cry in front of someone who wants you to.
She'd stood like that, once. In second year. She'd stopped, eventually, and started crying anyway, because she'd been twelve and alone. That was before she'd learned that her voice was the loudest thing she had.
She was gathering that voice now, already stepping forward, when the sound stopped her.
"Mulciber."
Just the name. Flat and carrying. Not loud.
She looked left.
James Potter was leaning against the corridor wall with his arms folded, a few feet from the Slytherins, as if he'd been there for a while and was simply choosing now to be noticed. His school bag was slung over one shoulder. He looked, Lily thought, almost bored.
"Potter," said the blond one — Mulciber — turning. His voice had shifted, sharpened. "This is none of your business."
"No," James agreed easily. "It isn't."
He pushed off the wall and walked forward. Not quickly. The unhurried walk of someone who had never once in his life worried that a corridor wasn't wide enough for him.
"So why don't you walk away," Mulciber said, "before I make it yours."
"You know what's funny," James said, not answering, stopping at a distance that was a foot closer than was comfortable, "is that I had Flitwick's essay due Thursday and I was actually on my way to the library to start it. So I'm already in a terrible mood."
"Is that meant to be a threat?"
"It's context." James tilted his head slightly to look at the first-year girl, and something in his voice went different — not softer exactly, but deliberate. "You alright?"
The girl looked at him with the specific expression of someone who doesn't know whether a new adult is better or worse than the current one. Lily recognized that look too.
"I'm fine," the girl said. Her voice was smaller than her chin-tilt.
"What's your name?"
"Anne."
"Anne." He nodded like he was filing it away. "Nice to meet you. You can go. I'll be right here."
A beat. Mulciber laughed — the kind of laugh that was just contempt with sound attached. "She's not going anywhere until I say—"
"Mulciber." James looked back at him. He still hadn't reached for his wand. "She's eleven. She's going to class. And you're going to let her, because I've got a very clear memory and Slughorn's got a very open ear, and I'd really rather not spend my evening getting someone's prefect badge revoked."
Silence.
Lily, frozen in the mouth of the corridor, watched Mulciber's jaw work.
"This isn't over," he said, but it had already deflated, the way threats do when the person making them knows they've lost the room.
"Sure," James said, in a tone that meant I've already forgotten you.
The three Slytherins left. There was some shoulder-jostling and muttered words she couldn't make out, but they left, and James stood where he was until the sound of their footsteps faded.
Then he looked at the girl — Anne — and his face did something Lily couldn't entirely name. Easier, maybe. Like he'd set something down.
"You've got ink on your chin, by the way," he said.
Anne touched her face. "I was taking notes."
"Noble work." He fished in his bag, produced a handkerchief that had Property of Sirius Black written on it in green ink, and held it out. "Don't ask."
Anne took it, wiped her chin, held it back out.
"Keep it," James said. "He's got about forty of them. I nick them constantly." He paused. "Which corridor are you supposed to be in?"
"The — the main one. I turned around somewhere."
"Right. Come on, I'll walk you out. I've got to go past it anyway."
Anne looked at him. Lily could see her deciding. Then she picked up the bag that had been dropped at her feet — at some point during all of this, someone had knocked it there — and fell into step beside James Potter, who was at least a head and a half taller than her and was already pointing out where the second left was.
"If you take this passage," he was saying, leading her toward where Lily was standing, "and you turn at the—" He stopped.
He'd seen her.
For a strange, suspended moment, they looked at each other. Lily was still holding her own bag. She was aware, suddenly, that she'd been standing there for the entirety of that exchange, doing nothing, which was not something she would typically do and had no explanation for except that she hadn't wanted to interrupt something she didn't understand yet.
"Evans," James said.
"Potter," she said.
He looked at her for a moment longer. There was something careful in his expression — like he was reading the situation, checking whether she was about to say something that would require a response. She'd done that to him before. Called him out mid-act. He knew her voice at twenty paces.
She didn't say anything.
He nodded once, slightly, and walked past her with Anne at his elbow. "Second left," he was saying again, "and then you'll see the painting of the fruit bowl, and after that it's—"
Their footsteps faded.
Lily stood in the corridor alone.
***
She thought about it on the way back to Gryffindor Tower. She thought about it in the way you think about something that doesn't fit properly into the category you'd put it in — the way a note lands wrong and you keep running the melody back to find where it shifted.
She'd seen James Potter do impressive things. He was objectively talented, and she had spent a lot of years not giving him credit for it because it seemed dangerous to, because he wore it like armour and pointed it at people like a weapon. She'd seen him duel. She'd seen him take the most complicated Transfiguration problem in their year and solve it in twenty minutes on a Tuesday morning like it was nothing. She'd seen him make an entire room laugh.
She had not seen him do what he'd just done.
Because the thing that didn't fit — the thing she was running back, trying to find the shifted note — was that there had been no audience.
There was no one in that corridor who mattered. No one he needed to impress. Black wasn't there. McGonagall wasn't there. She hadn't even announced herself. He hadn't known she was watching. He'd walked into a dead-end corridor, found a first-year backed against a cupboard door, and—
She can go. I'll be right here.
He hadn't made a speech. He hadn't hexed anyone. He'd just — stood there, until the space was clear, and then handed over a handkerchief that wasn't even his and pointed out a shortcut.
She thought about the word Mulciber had used. The way James's face had gone when he heard it — and she'd been watching his face, she realized, because she'd been waiting for the performance, the moment he made it about himself. That slight stillness. Not dramatic. Not performed. Just — something settling into place, a decision made.
She thought about Anne's face when he'd asked if she was alright. The way the girl had looked at him like she didn't know whether to trust it yet.
I know that look, Lily thought. I've had that look.
She had never, in six years, seen James Potter make anyone feel like that.
She thought about that for the rest of the walk back, and then she stopped thinking about it because she didn't want to think about what it meant that she'd noticed.
***
She saw him the next morning at breakfast.
He was at the far end of the Gryffindor table with Black and Remus and Pettigrew, and they were doing something with a piece of toast that seemed to involve a bet and some kind of levitation charm. Black was laughing so hard he'd knocked his goblet over. Peter was trying to catch it. Remus was reading.
Completely ordinary. The exact James Potter she had a decade's worth of opinions about.
She sat at her usual spot, opened her Transfiguration notes, and did not look down the table.
"Lily." Diana Fosh dropped into the seat beside her and stole a piece of toast. "You look like you're doing maths."
"I'm reading."
"You look like you're doing maths at your reading." Diana poured herself pumpkin juice. "What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Mm." Diana bit into the toast and looked at her with the expression of someone who had been Lily's best friend since second year and knew exactly what nothing sounded like. "Is it the essay?"
"Yes," Lily said. "It's the essay."
It was not the essay.
Diana let it go, because Diana was tactful in the way that people were tactful when they'd decided to wait you out. They talked about other things — Quidditch, the Charms homework, whether or not Professor Slughorn's dinner invitations had a hierarchy. Lily ate her eggs. She kept her eyes on her notes.
She looked up once.
James Potter was watching her from the far end of the table.
Not the way he usually looked at her — that particular look she'd learned to return with a flat stare until he glanced away. This was different. Shorter. Like he'd just checked that she was there, the way you check on something you've been half-wondering about.
When he saw her looking, he didn't grin. Didn't raise an eyebrow. He just turned back to Black.
Lily turned back to her notes.
The maths she was doing, she thought, was very simple.
She had spent six years categorizing James Potter as a very specific kind of person, because he had given her every reason to, because the evidence had been consistent and loud. And last night, in a dead-end corridor, with no one watching — or so he thought — he had done something that did not fit the category.
That was all it was. An anomaly. One data point didn't rewrite six years.
She picked up her quill and underlined something in her notes that didn't need underlining.
The maths, she thought again. Very simple.
She just couldn't figure out why it kept coming out different.
***
Maybe, she thought. And then didn't think it again for two weeks.
By the end of those two weeks, she'd thought it twelve more times.
If you're going to leave a rude comment on a fanfic that someone worked hard on, don't be a little bitch about it and hide behind an anonymous guest account.
