Not just you

Author's Note: Again, I am seriously sorry for uploading this so quickly. It's been on six hours since I last uploaded my previous chapter and whoop-ti-do, I presenting you another one. I'm apologize if the speed is way too fast. Please go the the blog archive called 'Milestones' and find the correct post. I even shifted it up to the first gadget you see on the blog! Sorry for all the inconvenience. And thanks for putting up with all of this. 


Especially about my mood these days, just as Lily says, James and I are going through this weird character changing phase/depression stage/denial problems. I don't know what's going on. I just feel very messed up now. I changed a lot on my blog. My WRITING style has changed. I just look at things differently now. Believe it or not, I'm actually listening to Cody Simpson right now. Well, his break-up songs anyways because, I don't know, they're really great inspiration and I think James can relate to it somehow. And moreover, I'm jumping to different personalities now. I guess James affected me quite a lot in the past week. All the changes and stuff. I usually don't change because I can't take change well. Maybe something hit me, emotionally. It's scrambled my brain or something, playing with my nerves. 


Anyways, this is probably going to be the last post for quite a while since 1) Exams are coming up, 2) I need to work on the seventh year at Hogwarts' fanfic (it's in fucking ICU for the time being and the situation is VERY, VERY critical and extremely unstable) and 3) I SERIOUSLY need to catch up on my sleep because I haven't slept before 12am for the past TWO MONTHS. So I'm going to give you a PROPER Author's Note (proper as in a look Behind-The-Scenes and my thoughts on the story)on this fanfiction a couple days later then I'm going to be Mixing In Apples (MIA) for quite some time until...I don't know, in June? That's when the exams are OVER! Yay! :) 


Thanks for everything, all my readers mean A LOT to me. Your support is...brilliance on its own. Thank you so much. 


Love, 
Rachelle

“Where the hell are the other Marauders?” Sirius grumbles at the farewell barbeque on Sunday evening. “I want a food fight on the last night.” I roll my eyes at him instinctively.

“I’ll vote on that,” Peter suddenly appears out of the darkness and sits next to Sirius. Remus follows him closely and nods at us.

“Where the hell were you, Wormy?” Sirius demanded, pouting like a puppy. “We’ve been waiting for you for AGES.” He motions to Amy, Mary and I. “And where the hell is Prongs!? If you guys got matching tattoos done without me I’m going to be very upset.”

“Yes, Padfoot. We got matching tattoos in the middle of the bloody woods,” Remus replies monotonously, taking a seat next to Amy.

"James is coming. He’ll meet us later," Peter shrugs, trying not to draw attention.

Unlike everyone else, who is looking at me.

I pretend I don’t hear him and stare into the fire.

Out of my immediate focus, I see what looks like James up ahead. I narrow my vision ever so slightly between Mary’s turning head and Sirius’s face, and my assumptions are soon confirmed. James Potter is slowly becoming more and more visible with every step he takes. I don’t know if I should look away or look right at him or look at the ground, so I turn to Peter and force him to talk to me.

 “You going anywhere during Easter?” I say with mock enthusiasm.

Peter’s expressions leads me to believe that he knows exactly what I’m doing - and that he feels sorry enough for me to play along.

“Nowhere, I’ve got to take care of my mum. She usually falls sick at this time of year.”

I nod.

He nods.

“I’m not going anywhere either,” I pathetically throw in.

 “I think I’ll go somewhere in the summer.”

 “Alright then,” I reply swiftly.

Good conversation so far.

“I caught Sirius moisturizing before bed.”

 “Amy talks in her sleep.”

What had started out as lame small talk, was quickly turning into just blurting out useless facts.

 "I’m allergic to sesame seeds."

 “One time I had a dream that I married a house elf.”

“My mum makes me wear suspenders in our Christmas photos every year.”

“I caught Sirius watching a television program about a high school show choir in the U.S.”

“Sometimes Remus reads science fiction before bed, and he thinks no one knows about it.”

“Sirius hit me with the clicker when I caught him watching the television program about those teenagers in that show choir in Ohio.”

“I think slushies are God’s gift to man.”

“I sneezed during my Potions exam in Third Year and got a bogie on my essay.”

“In First Year, bullies in Slytherin made me kiss some guy’s foot.”

I frown at this information. “Um…ew,” I reply, repulsed by the idea of little 11 year old Peter kissing some git’s hairy foot. That’s just fucking unfortunate.

“Yeah,” he reminisces, shaking his head. “I didn’t enjoy it much.”

I shouldn’t be all that taken aback; Peter was bullied a lot in First Year. That is, until he met James and the rest of the boys. Ugh, does everything have to go back to him? I can’t have one conversation with Peter about feet without James following me everywhere I go!

I glance up between Mary and Sirius really fast before turning my attention back to Peter, who is now describing the shape of the foot he had to kiss. James is about ten paces away. Should I do the fake laugh thing? Is that tacky? Is it expected? Is it NOT expected?! Oh, man, I’m not good at this.

I burst into a fit giggles and smack Peter in the arm so hard I practically shove him into the wooden picnic table. Sirius throws me a look. I ignore him. Amy squints at me suspiciously. I ignore her. I hear some pain-filled mumbling and turn my head ever so slightly at Peter. He’s whimpering into his shoulder.

“Prongs.” Remus acknowledges James with a short nod. He’s wearing dark jeans with a navy sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up, looking cuter than I thought he was from afar.

James nods back automatically, taking his seat next to Remus. No one says anything.

“Where were you?” Sirius blurts, pained by the sense of abandonment.

“I had to take care of some things.” Is it just me or does James Potter’s focus seem somewhere else? He’s closed off physically, his posture the farthest from welcoming. It doesn’t look like he’s going to share any more with us.

He didn’t even look at me yet.

“So tonight’s the last night,” Amy announces refreshingly, stating the painfully obvious. God bless the girl for trying to change the subject.

“Thank Merlin tonight’s our last night in these woods. If I have to shower in those bloody wooden lavatories one more time, I’m going to set fire to something,” Mary confesses, shaking her head incredulously. She crosses her arms on the picnic table and rests her head on them.

“Aw, no, I like it here!” Amy gushes. She’s been enjoying herself since day one on this camping trip. It’s not much of a surprise either; it doesn’t take much to make Amy happy. She can find joy in the simplest of things.

“It’s a pity we have to leave and walk back up to the castle tonight,” she says. “It’s so comfy and peaceful. The cabins are nice and creaky, and the food is yummy and outdoors-y! It’s pretty and quiet at night-”

“This sounds like the beginning of every horror story known to man,” Remus interrupts.

Amy tilts her head to the side, giving him a ‘oh, please’ kind of look. “It’s a nice change from being inside the castle walls! Admit it, out here, there’s more freedom!”

When she gets no responses she sighs impatiently. “Come on, I can’t be the only one who enjoyed roasting marshmallows.“

“Yeah,” Remus laughs incredulously. “I loved the marshmallows. In fact, I loved them so much I forgot to breathe at one point.”

“So, did you hear about the memo Professor Franklin sent out?” Amy asks, rapidly changing the subject again.

We all turn at her with furrowed eyebrows.

Amy looks around at us, frazzled. “The memo,” she repeats. “You know, the memo about her emergency leave?”

“What!?” My exclamation comes out more hostile than I wanted it to and everyone turns to me.

I hide my hands in my hoodie and blink a few times, “She’s leaving already?”

“I can’t be the only one who knows,” she presses, looking around the table desperately. “She left this morning for break, something about a family matter.”

“Amy, what the hell are you talking about?” Sirius says slowly.

“Oh, honestly,” she says, annoyed. “Did none of you get it? Professor McGonagall attached the memo on the back of our last assignment pamphlet. It said in bold at the top: Professor Franklin’s Muggle Studies course 283!”

 “Yeah… no,” Peter shakes his head, Amy’s clues obviously not ringing a bell.

“It was on the last page.”

Realization dawns on our faces collectively. No one reads the last page.

“Ohhhhhhhhh, that!” Remus acknowledges.

Amy sighs heavily. “Let’s pretend I’m not slightly disappointed with my choice of friends,” she says hurriedly. “Anyway, you know how Professor Franklin scheduled a brief lesson before we were to leave for Easter vacation?”

Sirius looks at his girlfriend. "I thought she ended up canceling it?"

“Well,” she says in a disappointed tone, “It’s back on.”

Um, WHAT?

“We have class tonight?” I ask in disbelief, my face just as horror stricken as Sirius.

This has got to be a joke. We’re about to eat dinner! We’re about to go pack for break! We’re about to head home! And now we have to go to class for a subject we just spent the whole weekend doing?!

“This is bollocks!” Peter cries.

“What lesson is it?” James quietly asks, no emotion in his voice. Remus, Sirius, Mary, Peter, and I are too befuddled about the change in plans to even care about James suddenly finding his voice. Remus goes blank for a second but not because of his friend, but because he’s just remembered something.

“Ugh, it’s our dance lesson,” Remus answers him with a grimace. “The dance portion of our semester. Muggle ballroom or something like that. Professor Franklin wanted us to have that lesson before break to get us ready for when we came back, remember?”

I actually do remember her mentioning it- but I didn’t think she’d go through with it the night of our leave! This whole weekend was concentrated Muggle Studies coursework that really delved into the Muggle societies that lived here before us. It was a nature trail, basically. And now we have to jumpstart our next lesson on her semester agenda and learn dance?! This is the last thing I want to think about right now. She was going to assign this lesson the day before we had the camping trip, but since she ended up canceling it we all assumed she’d just forget about it… and that we wouldn’t have to worry about anything until we came back.

This is… this is just…this is abuse!

“The memo on the paper said it was a last minute lesson, sort of spur of the moment… so we have to go back up to the castle and do the lesson before we leave tomorrow morning,” Amy shrugs, a frown on her face. "Professor Franklin definitely told McGonagall to continue with the lesson, because she and Madame Pince will be teaching it tonight."

“This sucks,” Remus pouts.

Peter bangs his head on the table.

"I know,” he agrees. “The last thing I want to do is march up to grounds and attend a Muggle Studies class while other people pack for vacation.”

“Hang on, how long is the lesson?” I ask, slightly worried about the time we’ll be spending doing the tango with McGonagall.

Amy sighs, looking at the table. “I think, a little bit past an hour.”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“An hour!? She wants us to do the foxtrot for an hour? Talk about brief!” Sirius bursts, drawing attention to the table.

Amy purses her lips. “I don’t think the foxtrot is exactly what we’ll be learning-”

“Everyone will be asleep by then!” Peter says, anger clearly apparent in his voice. “And we have to stay in for an extra hour, or maybe more. This is shit.” He shakes his head, refusing to deal.

“We won’t be able to pack until midnight,” I add sullenly.

Everyone starts blurting out opinions on the matter while other tables get called to get food. And that’s when James connects eyes with me. He’s not directly across the table, so it isn’t as obvious, but through the blabber of our friends surrounding this new lesson we have to attend to tonight, we’re the only ones not speaking. He’s just staring at me in this disappointed way. But it changes to a cocky one very quickly.

I’ve convinced myself that at this point, it’s the way James operates. It’s a defensive mechanism. This git thinks I haven’t read between the lines. He thinks he’s some sort of fucking mystery.

HAH.

Mary abruptly silences herself mid sentence while her mouth curls over, trying to understand what she’s just heard. Every person at the table stops and turns to me. James scrunches his eyebrows and has WTF stamped on his face.

Aw, shit! Did I just express that out loud?

Damn it.

Everyone’s still looking at me, waiting for an explanation for my outburst. But I, the crazy redhead, have nothing to use in my defense. Mainly it’s because I can handle shock much better than I used to so things like this don’t bother me. I’m not as embarrassed as I am mentally unsound, so I jab my finger outwards to Jonathan Michaels two tables over, and hope to use him as a sort of scapegoat.

“Did you see the design on the back of his sweatshirt?” I try to save weakly. “He has a dancing crab playing limbo.”

As if by telepathic ability, Sirius, Peter, Remus, and Mary all blink once at me in unison. James just looks like he’s trying to hide a sinister laugh because he’s won this round. You should just look at this snarky bastard’s eyes right now- they totally give him away. He’s secretly enjoying this.

The more I repeat my words, the faster my voice turns into a murmur. “It’s a… dancing…crab,” I finish meekly to myself. I’ve set a new level of pathetic for schoolgirls everywhere.

The marble and stonewalls in the Great Hall are all that occupy my sight as Madame Pince and Professor McGonagall make their rounds and finish attendance. Once our entire Sixth Year Muggle Studies class is accounted for, dance class begins. We start with some awkward stretching exercises and then a brief explanation of the history of dance. Madame Pince begins by explaining the origins of famous dances and Professor McGonagall continues with a short lecture about which dance she’s warming us up with before break.

Ballroom dancing.

McGonagall is instructing orderly protocol while Madame Pince is dividing the students in the Great Hall up by the sexes and then by sub-groups. My life is flashing before my eyes. I’m pushed into a remote corner of the Great Hall with a string of students just idling about; this includes Peter, Sirius, and James. Amy and Remus are in the next group ahead of us.

Either this could go very wrong, or this could go horribly wrong.

Within the next 10 minutes, I get turned around and the single filed line of males in front of me occupies my vision. I wouldn’t have pulled the horrendous face that got me a behavioral comment from Madame Pince if it wasn’t for the ass I got placed with, who was taunting me with his eyes.

Standing tall in front of me, three feet away, was James Potter.

Does the world ever work in my favor?

I’m wondering if it’s possible to divorce yourself from your own existence.

I look at him and he looks at me and it’s so painfully cliché that I want to punch something. His eyes are dark and curious, anticipation almost exploding from his demeanor. He smirks.

Oh, no.

That’s James Potter’s infamous game face – and I don’t mean the Quidditch type of game.

Could he possibly find this amusing?

James adjusts himself a bit better and takes off his hoodie. His posture soon mirrors my own; squaring his shoulders with my caving ones, and facing me so dead straight that our faces are probably located on the same line of latitude. I’m trying to disappear and he’s anxiously waiting for further instructions from McGonagall.

Madame Pince starts mumbling comments on posture while Professor McGonagall begins instructing. Before I know it James takes his hand and puts in on my mid-back, silently telling me to get into position. How suggestive of him. I take it upon myself to lift my hand, but I don’t take his like McGonagall is telling us to do. I just keep my hand raised, waiting for James to lift his.

I’m not going to grab his hand, fuck that. If he wants to dance, then he better take some initiative. He’s going to have to come to me now. How the hell my mind just came up with this is beyond me, but I’m willing to roll with it.

He looks off to the side, annoyed but secretly entertained. It’s the kind of face you’d see with an eye roll. If he was to speak right now, it would probably be something like ‘Is she seriously acting like this?’ and in which case I’d kick him where it hurt.

James sighs huskily and takes my hand into his. We start to dance in synch with the rest of the students. Since we all start at around the same time, Madame Pince goes into drill sergeant mode about footwork and throws herself in between students who don’t know what they’re doing. She’s yelling directions at our class on which steps to take next. I could have dealt with her crazy rambling if it wasn’t for the fact that a few moments later I saw her walking around and checking our group’s couples.

James and I stare into each other. He tries to dip me out of nowhere without as much as a warning to catch me off guard (knowing him, it was definitely plausible). But I catch him in the act. I grab him hard and stiffen my back, while putting more space in between the already gaping hole between us. James sees he’s defeated and can’t dip me.

Don’t underestimate me, I practically yell at him.

He reads my eyes loud and clear, and tilts his head back to make sure that it really is me, Lily Evans, being a bit of a smart ass back to him.

“Mmmhm,” he murmurs.

“Mmmhm, what?”

“Someone’s afraid to dance,” he says, making it evidently clear who is he talking about. 

“I’m not afraid. Don’t use that excuse to help yourself deal with the fact that I denied your move,” I whip back at him. My eyes get a bit wide as soon as I spit out my retort, but I clear my throat and keep myself focused so he doesn’t catch on.

James scoffs with a ghost of a smile on his face. His left eyebrow rises in shock.

“Well, damn.”

James is pleased but not too surprised, like he was waiting for me to say something but wasn’t expecting it any time soon. My mind is still reeling over the fact that I know exactly what to say to make me seem unpredictable. It’s so unexplainable to me how I have this sudden urge to want to piss him off or just shock him.

His eyes don’t leave my face and I’m left blushing, looking away, only to have my neck snapped back into position by Madame Pince.

“Eye contact with your partner at all times!” She squeaks.

James stifles a laugh as she examines our posture for the next 15 seconds. She quickly snaps her fingers together in, what I assume, is a conclusive gesture.

Well, she examines quite fast, doesn’t she?

I expect her to move on to the next couple in our group, except she doesn’t leave. She snaps again at us. And then again, and again. What the hell? If you haven’t noticed, Madame Pince snaps her fingers very loudly, and she’s snapping them right in my face. This is NOT appealing to me. 

Madame Pince snaps another two times, but this time with impatience. “Enough!”

James and I share a blank stare at Madame Pince collectively.

“Do not ignore me, you two. When I snap it means something is wrong!” she bursts as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t just sit here and babysit you. You must try to guide yourselves.”

Sorry, I didn’t get the memo. Is there a dictionary of annoyance somewhere that I could use to translate her unnecessary outbursts? I mean I’m not one to talk but I don’t enjoy just lollygagging and holding onto James Potter’s frame as she freaks out at us for not reading her mind.

“You two are supposed to find out what’s wrong,” Madame Pince huffs, “And fix it!” 

That is the biggest pun I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

“Do you find anything wrong with your dancing, Mr. Potter?”

“Uh…yes?”

“Yes,” she clarifies, tapping her foot with annoyance. “And what might be the problem, Ms. Evans?” She turns to me but I keep my eyes on James.

“It’s standing right in front of me.”

His eyes turn into slits as he narrows them at me in less than a second. I smirk at this happily.

Madame Pince sighs with frustration. “The biggest problem with you two is space! You are standing a ridiculous long distance away from Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans.” Now it’s my fault!?

James looks smug.

“You must let him lead if you want to dance! The only way to let him lead is to be close. Be one with your partner. This is ballroom from this century, not dance circles from the dark ages.” She puts her hands on our backs and pushes us together. Some strength she has, that Madame Pince! Bloody! 

I practically rammed my chest into his!

“Humph,” she mumbles under her breath in a high-prissy-satisfactory kind of way. She walks towards Peter Pettigrew and his partner, leaving us alone.

“Too close for comfort?”

I look up at him. “Don’t taunt me.”

I smell his musky aftershave the whole time we’re dancing and try really hard to ignore it. We relax into each other, against our free wills, and glide our feet across the dance floor. We should probably keep count of our steps and keep formation, but our brains are only half paying attention to the orders Madame Pince is barking out to the couples in our group.

“Is our proximity a problem?” he brings up again, glancing at my neck, then my chin, and all the way up to my face again.

“It is for you.”

James bites his tongue as he sharply let go of my left hand and twirls me briefly before whipping me back to him. I almost slip because of his harsh tug, so I elbow him in the gut. The wind gets knocked out of him for only a moment, before he sighs and big sigh and looks at me with a deadpan expression. 

“Lily.”

I give him a small shake of my head and close my eyes. I try to tune him out before he even begins.

“Lily…”

I open my eyes as I adjust my hips the way Madame Pince is telling all the girls to do, and I tilt my body to the right, and sway. I come back around again and James’s expression hits me like a slap. James just seems so lost and indescribable now that I can’t even say anything. I don’t know what to say.

I feel his hand slide lower down my back as we do one final turn, following with the rhythm of the counts Madame Pince is firing off. I can count every single one of his eyelashes. It’s quiet and we’re in our own little demonic realm and I can hear nothing but our breathing and growing frustration with each other. It’s as if we have no peripheral vision.

I catch out reflection on in one of the ceiling-to-floor windows in the Great Hall. You know, Lily and I look good dancing next to each other. There’s only one, tiny detail that’s wrong¾ she’s not looking at me.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

I was supposed to say her name and Lily would glare at me and I would ask her if she cared about me or not. That was the plan. And I didn’t go through with it.

I didn’t ask her mainly because I’m a pansy and chickened out. But in my defense she looked just as freaked (okay, furious) as I was. I laid it out perfectly, like a scene from a movie. But as soon as I saw her worrisome (sorry, livid) face, I changed my mind. I pretended like I wasn’t going to ask her if she cared about me. My façade is pretty believable, okay? You can’t deny it.

I make eye contact with Sirius Black from across the room. Briefly, though. Only for a couple of seconds. He gives me a look that says ‘Go on. Ask her, you tool bag! Go through with it, don’t chicken out!’ but I just respond with a strenuous face and my middle finger. Sirius purses his lips and gestures to Lily with his eyebrows. I gesture back with the stink eye.

“Do you have a twitch?” I can tell that she’s positively frustrated with me.

Excellent.

"What?"

"Your eyelid just flapped at me."

Yes, Lily. I have a twitch in my right eye from my lack of potassium intake. Or maybe it’s the face I’m making at my best friend because he’s bugging me about confronting you with my question, which I was going to ask you but decided against it. And as a defense mechanism I pretended like I wasn’t thinking about us at all and started acting like my old self.

“Nope.”

Padfoot makes eye contact with me again, with a look of complete irritation on his face. He mouths the word ‘pansy’ somewhere followed by a hand motion apparently sticking is fist up my nether region… oh, and a few other curse words, too.

I mouth back to him that I can’t. I also add in a few excellent curse words to even the score. 

Padfoot scowls. And then shouts suddenly above the hoard of students dancing in pairs.

“DO IT!"

The whole class freezes and I feel Lily flinch.

 I look at him like a mad man, with my arms just hanging in the air with relaxed wrists, my face horrified.

Sirius Black timidly goes back to twirling his partner and tries to ignore the stares coming from everyone in the room. He raises his eyebrows nonchalantly and looks away like he's done nothing. He perfects this action by pretending to scratch the back of his head. Ah, poor Padfoot. Always jumping through the hoop of fire without finding a place to land.

He motions for me one last time with his pointer finger, before cowering away behind Mary McDonald.

I breathe through my nose, trying to calm down.

Do it, James, you fucking sod. Do it, do it, do it!

“Um, Lily…” I begin, but I can’t find my voice. Holy shit, am I getting nervous?

She ignores me. No surprise there.

Just relax… It’s only Lily. And she’s pretending that you’re invisible. How hard can this be?

“Let me ask you a hypothetical question,” I begin, my brain filtering through what I should say first. How can I start this?

“I don’t know if you realize, but we have an assignment. I don’t have time for your-”

I inhale, trying to gain my patience back again. “Lily. Just listen.”

She shuts up quickly, swaying robotically to the music. Her eyes still aren’t focusing on me but I can feel that she’s thinking. Her face is contorted into a fine line between confusion and curiosity. I don’t even want to think about what’s racking in her mind right now. My nerves are kicking in but I’m trying so hard to ignore it, you have no idea.

“If, in a hypothetical world, someone was to do something to you, without them knowing you are fully aware of what’s happening, did they have the right to do something to you to begin with? Or did they have the right of way, doing what they did, because you were unresponsive?”

James, you git. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about. 

Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t know what I’m saying! I can’t find the right words to say it. I don’t want to pretend anymore; pretend that I’m okay. Because I’m not. I need her in my life and for the first time in a while when I got hit by that bloody bludger, I felt her presence. She was touching me when I regained consciousness, or when I ‘woke up’. I didn’t say anything, because I was too nervous about what might happen. I had a dream.

See, Lily was in it. I thought I was dreaming her touching me. And I guess that when I gently awoke, I assumed it was still a dream. But when I knew for certain, that I was awake, I was terrified of opening my eyes. I hoped that it was Lily, because I was beginning to sweat.

“I don’t- That’s…” She sputters. Her voice goes through a series of decibals.

I was too afraid to open my eyes, because I was afraid she’d disappear.

“Just… Do you understand? You understand the question, don’t you?” I plead. “Would something like that be okay, knowing the other person couldn’t do anything about it? If, in the end, no one would find out?”

I sound like a fucking serial killer. If I killed you and no one found out, would that be okay?

I. AM. A. COMPLETE. MORON.

“I…” Lily looks horror stricken. She got what I was saying, right? I don’t want to force it out of her. But, I can only be patient for so long, though. I can’t be the one to say it out loud. I can’t just be living on my own.

She’s here with me, why can’t she just think and say things in front of me? She feels the need to push things to the back of her mind, so I have to be the one to bring it up for air. It kills me how she’s so afraid of reaching the fence and jumping over it.

I look at her, my eyebrows begging her to look me in the eyes for once and try to get what I’m saying. Even if she doesn’t get the metaphor (which I doubt, because she’s very intuitive) - I still want an answer to my hypothetical question. At least, this way, I’ll know if what she did was a mistake, or not.

At the same moment, McGonagall comes up to us and dismisses us. Merlin, you could NOT have worse timing! Lily immediately lets go of me ad rushes out of the Great Hall without another word.

Oh, no she doesn’t!

“Damn it,” I huff.

I race past students, elbowing whomever need be, even though the pain in my back is killing me. I hear people complaining about broken toes and gauged eyes but I ignored it. I don’t give a shit for people’s injuries! I’m on a mission! Her figure is getting closer and closer to me as I pick up speed.

I follow her and smirk at her direction of choice: it’s an empty, dark corridor.

“You,” I pant like a mad man. She turns around, biting her lip.

“Me?”

“You know what? You are making this so much more painful than it should be. I’m pretty sure I lost all feeling in my shoulders back there. You do realize I still have bruises all over my back, right?” I joke.

She crosses her arms tensely, breathing heavily out her nose.

I slowly walk towards her, still panting from my sprint.

“When I got injured that night of the match and I was laying in bed, I was in a lot of pain. So much pain, you couldn’t imagine.”

Lily Evans walks backwards away from me. I walk forwards toward her, my confidence building.

“I thought I was dreaming for a bit, because my back took the hit so hard…but something happened.”

I’ve started to sweat. And my face is itchy. Why is this happening?

“Something happened… And I wasn’t in so much pain anymore. I still felt it, of course, but it wasn’t as bad. Know why?” 

I’m going to SHIT BULLETS if he’s going to say what I think he’s going to say! 

I feel suffocated. His figure is getting closer and closer to me, no matter how fast I retreat from him. James Potter has cornered me in an deserted corridor.

“Um…” is all I can mumble.

“Because of you. I now what you did, Lily. I knew it was you all along. As soon as I felt your fingertips on my hands, I had steadily woken up subconsciously. Not knowing what was going on...”

“Wha-what?” I asked in a staggering and disbelieving voice. I could understand if someone saw and told him, like Madame Pomfrey. But he knew it was me all along? How the hell…?

“I heard you say my name but I didn’t move. I didn’t want to. I was afraid you’d stop and just walk away from me-”

“Listen, I didn’t mean to-”

“Just listen to me,” James almost shouts, his voice rising.

“You have no idea how amazing that felt,” he continues, putting his hand out, telling me to let him finish. “No. Idea.”

I’m so tongue tied that I can’t even speak. Hell, I can’t even remember my first name. I wish I could take it all back… I wish I were never there, taking care of him, while he was sleeping in the Hospital wing. I take it back! All of it!

“I tried not to breath too heavily, because I wanted you to think I was asleep, or somewhat. But when you started to put my hand in between both of yours, my heart started to beat faster than it normally does around you. It was like I was nervous subconsciously,” he chuckles darkly. James looks at the ground, considering his words carefully.

I start to fiddle my thumbs, begging for this to stop.

He looking me straight in the eyes, he walks closer towards me. James is right in front of me. I can’t move back anymore and I collide with the wall, justified by the soft pat my back makes against the cold marble.

Why can’t I just say something!?

“I don’t know why I was nervous,” he starts again, “but I think it had something to do with the fact that you were there. And that I couldn’t tell between reality and what may or may not have been a part of my dreams. When I first felt you touching me I thought I was dreaming, but when you held my hand I was so afraid that as soon as I opened my eyes, you’d run away or get scared. And if it was dream, I thought the worst; I’d wake up and realize it never happened. I didn’t want to ruin it, no matter what dimension it was happening in - I didn’t want to jeopardize that amazing feeling of cloud nine. It was strange, to say the least. I usually only get nervous before really big Quidditch matches, too, so I felt unlike myself,” he states with such honesty, it almost knocks me off my feet.

I’m trying to regulate my breathing and focus on something else, like biting down on my lip…but it’s not working. I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

“When I get anxious and apprehensive, you of all people know I start to sweat.” I feel a smirk behind his voice, and then I get it.

I was the one worrying about him having a heart palpation while I was touching him, not thinking for one second that he may have been awake! I, of all people, knew that fact about him. How could I not? It’s like his nervous habit; he sweats instantly. I’m such a pinhead! How did I not catch that?!

James reaches for my hand. And at that second, my heart stops.

“My heart was beating so fast, and I was trying so hard not to gasp for air,” he confesses.

I really can’t breathe at this point.

“But do you know what I was thinking about? It’s quite ironic, really…”

I numbly shake my head.

“That night I got cursed,” James says softly. “I think I heard you crying. For me.”

Oh, my goodness. He couldn’t have known about that as well!

“Then I felt you running your hand over my scars from that night. I knew you were thinking of me screaming. Thinking of me in pain. And you…were helpless.”

Merlin. Merlin…My chest feels ready to explode. My eyes, they may be watering, too.

He gains some security and rests his right arm on the wall, a few inches from my left shoulder. If I turn right, there’s the column block attached to the wall. If I turn left, James’s arm is eye level to me. James is in front of me, and wall is behind me. There’s no place for me to escape!

“What do you have to say?” James asks me, his head leaning in oh so close to me. This length between us should be much larger. Much more voluminous. It’s never supposed to be this dangerously proximal.

I can hear his breathing. It’s rapid but calm at the same time. Like he’s panting, but is still expectant of something. Expectant of me.

“You know how I feel.”

James’s eyes are piercing through me so forcefully, all I see are the color of his irises.

“Do I?” He asks, almost annoyed but not quite.

He leans in closer. Oh, God, I can feel his breath tickling my face. My heart is beating so fast I can’t even take it. This is all too much, too fast. 

I see him lick his lips in slow motion, looking at me. He contemplates his next move. Mind you, he’s still hovering over me and is still completely in control of the situation. James Potter’s face is fascinating and scary all at the same time. His eyes, so keen on figuring me out, have me pinned in an invisible steel cage. He’s staring at my mouth.

I’m staring at his mouth.

“Lily…”

He shifts his attention from my mouth up to my eyes. We stare at each other.

“James.”

He bites his lip and stares at my mouth again.

“I-”

James cuts me of so quickly that I forget what I was going to say in the first place. I don’t even know where I am. His lips collide with mine and it’s one of the most romantic kisses I’ve ever endured. It’s slow and thoughtful and he puts his entire heart in it.

Little does he know that my heart’s always been in it, it’s just been vacant.  And he’s opened up everything for me. My ideas, my thoughts, they’re out the fucking window now!

He tastes like mint. We explore each other’s mouths like we did in the Room of Requirement, except we aren’t attacked by each other. And, you know, we’re coherent. James and I are in our own little world. We have each other; he knows I won’t leave and I know he won’t. We aren’t worried about losing each other right now. It’s a euphoric feeling.

James pulls away and closes his eyes, leaning his forehead on mine.

“You take all my energy away, you know that?”

Rhetorical question, I’m guessing.

Funny how the mood has changed. It’s familiar, not strange or frustrating - not even tense. It’s…easy. Second nature. Comfortable.

“It’s what I do best,” I respond with some wit.

He’s impressed, almost grinning.

I used to think this just happened in movies. Guy corners girl. Girl and guy talk. Sexual tension happens. There is frustration out the ass. Make out session ensues out of frustration. Thank you, so much.

But, of course, our situation isn’t all that simple. Maybe I don’t regret watching him sleep in the hospital wing. Maybe I don’t regret caring about him, mentally and physically. Maybe I wanted to kiss him back.

There are a million questions residing behind my mouth that I’m dying to ask. I need to get them out. They’ve been filling my brain up to the rim since December. I need to know things. We need to talk. Really, really talk.

This isn’t simple. It’s complicated, it’s a hot mess, and it’s as delicate as you could imagine. The last thing I want to do is leave fate up to it. Fate’s been a pain in my ass, so I’m going to get things straightened out.

James puts his lips on mine, but doesn’t kiss me. He simply just talks to me with my mouth on his. Damn him.

“You’re a mess and a half.”

“This is wrong.”

“To you, maybe.”

I shake my head. “Things aren’t okay, James-”

He pushes his lips closer to me so I can’t speak.

“Don’t, Lily. Just… don’t. Not right now. We can talk later.”

What am I doing here? What’s happening?

More so… How did I get into this position?

Why does my body feel so content with him this close?

The more I think about the, the faster I get angry. “You want to talk later? How long are you going to drag this?”

He sighs. “Not now, Lily. We’ll talk about it later. I just… need time to think?”

James Potter stands up straight, shoving his hands in his pockets. My anger is slowly rising, though I try to hide it. He opens his mouth to speak. “I know you have questions, but I have them too.”

“Like what?” my temper is starting to flare out of control now.

“Why are you still mad at me? Well, besides the reasons that I gave you.”

“Because,” I choke, “you did something that you promised that you’d never do.”

“What?” his eyebrows furrow in concern, hazel eyes cloudy with confusion.

“Hurt me.”

Lily’s POV

Easter passed and exam season grips Hogwarts’. James hasn’t bothered me at all since we came back. I’m getting the feeling again that I can barely look him in the eye. It is more confusing than ever. He likes me and I like him. Isn’t the equation simple enough? Why is he keeping low?

My anger slowly fades away. I guess time does heal all wounds and I kind of see it from James’ point of view because now, I know how scared he feels. I know how much one is willing to go for their special one.

I understand.

But that doesn’t matter yet. Exams are coming and I can’t afford to get distracted.

James’ POV

I’m taking my own advice this time.

I’m going to give Lily a little space until the year is over.

I’m going to let her think. I’m going to wait for her to collect her thoughts.

I’m going to wait for her to think things through.

Because I know that Lily doesn’t work well with too many things hanging over her head.

I’m going to wait for Lily because she’s worth it.

Last train ride of the year to go back to King’s Cross. I’m going to tell Lily something before I leave.

“Lily, wait,” I grab her hand right before she crosses the barrier.

“Yes, James?” There is no hostility in her tone of voice. Lily focuses her bright green eyes on me. I momentarily lose myself in them. They’re so beautiful.

“I just want to say that I’m sorry,” I begin. I can feel my heartbeat speeding up already and I pray desperately that my hands aren’t sweaty yet. “I’m really sorry that I used Carly to make you jealous. I’m really sorry that I caused you to feel all of this. I’m really sorry that I hurt you.”

“I-I-I… Um…okay?” Confusion flickers in her eyes but if she was the Lily Evans I know and love, I know that she probably still doesn’t believe that I understand.

“I know how much pain I caused you. I know because it hurts me too, Lily,” I continued slowly. “I know how emotionally exhausted you feel. I’ve been hurt before, Lily, and I can feel the pain. It's not just you, Lily.” 

She blinks at me and her jaw goes a bit slack. I live for moments like this. (You have to admit it is kind of funny, catching her off guard…) My words sink into her and she slowly nods her head, “Alright…?”

“Look, just have a good summer and I’ll see you next year,” I snort at my words. What kind of good-bye is this? This takes Word-vomit to the next level.

A small smile blossoms on Lily’s face and I heave a sigh of relief, at least she doesn’t think I’m a total prat anymore…I hope.

“Right, see you then.” With that, she pushes her trolley and pass through the magical barrier of Platform 9 3/4. 


And there you have it, the ending of the Sixth year fanfiction. I am actually crying now. (Okay, not bawling like a new born but you know, the silent tears kind) Because this means a lot to me. It changed many of my perspectives on the world now. Like who's worth it and who's not. (I'll explain it more in detail when I do the usual Author's Note) I have changed a lot during the writing of this certain fanfiction. You can't see it on the outside, I just know I've changed in here *taps temple*. 


Once again, thanks to all of you. I'd give you all a HUGE hug right now. (Honestly, I really think I DO need a hug right now) Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. And the readers who know me personally, I think you know that my heart has no bottom. (Okay...sometimes it doesn't have a bottom)