Hello hello!

So, this is a sequel to Summer Magic, a fic I started writing literally YEARS ago. (Like, four years. Yikes.) But I just got this crazy urge to write more of this storyline that I had vaguely thought of towards the end of SM. And here I am! You don't have to read this if you've already SM (I mean...it all ends the same...), but if you do, I hope it doesn't totally suck and you enjoy it. And if it's also been four years for you, a little recap...

Summer Magic: Lily Evans has gone to a beach house every summer with her parents and sister since she can remember. It's one of the best times of her life. The summer she is 17, though, turned out to be a bit more than she expected. Her mum befriended the new neighbors, who were actually the Potters. James Potter was the most annoying prick in Lily Evans's year at Hogwarts, though she would have said the whole school, in her honest, completely unbiased opinion. James and his parents insist they are at the beach to spend quality family time-which, to Lily's horror, meant they would be there all bloody summer. Even worse? Mr. and Mrs. Potter became best friends with Mr. and Mrs. Evans. With all the family bonding and a mutual friend named Claire who seemed to be more interested in James than Lily ever was, James and Lily become friends. But only because he's Summer James, not School Potter. There's a difference. They still rowed, but Lily never really wanted to hex James anymore. Weird. Mr. Potter is actually sick and has been for a while. When he dies, Mrs. Evans is there for Mrs. Potter, and Lily for James. Near the end of the summer, total insanity overcomes Lily, and she kisses James. Kind, mad, unpredictable, hilarious, confusing James does not kiss her back. Horrified with what she just did, Lily ran off and avoided James. (Who wouldn't, am I right?) When she goes to tell him it was all a mistake, she finds incriminating evidence (read: notes between the Marauders) that proves that James seems to be madly infatuated with her. Unsurprisingly to any reader, Lily panics and they row. After a lot of soul searching and intervention from Sirius Black and Mrs. Evans, Lily realizes that not only is James incredibly good to her, he's perfect for her. They kiss a lot and are very happy and cute and live happily ever after.

Except... they're James and Lily. It's not that easy.

ALSO. I've got to do it. Thank you to: theladynimue, eliselilyflower, Love-what-is, ABC-123, Yumi Stern, DanicaRem, That daisy flower girl, mayannabeth, may, RagnarokxKitty, caroline kloster, Rena Mystique, owlgirlie387, mspstar97, team. , bethabest2384, calyxpotter, lola, thechosenbibliophile, Jamesfreakingpot, Tyem Marodyor, rapunzelxeugene4ever, sakurapetals0192, Moikan Yoloko, GreekPrincess3, natre998, lovejily, Lobster, musingmarauder, Writer0895, allthemessyglory17, LeahLumos, Warriorwitch13, leafypersuasion, frodopanda, Falcon 100, Infinity Lily, books4evah, gray babe, Luna Padma, 030, bookwyrms, roflshvuakomail, Smileyface Devil, and harryislife for all the wonderful, kind, and honest opinions! (sorry if you voted no whoops)

Lily Evans

Friends are one of the most important possessions a person can have in this life. Not that you can own your friends like property. At least, I hope not. That's not very friendly at all. In fact you could probably go to prison for— Anyway, you got to have friends. They push you to be better, inspire you, comfort you, and make you laugh so hard you sound like a drowning whale. They get you through the hard times, and they make you feel alive.

More importantly than friends is your family, especially if your friends become your family.

I don't have a very big family. I have my mum, my dad, and an older sister, Petunia. I never even knew my grandparents. I've got plenty of friends, though. I mean I've got enough friends.

All right, I have seven, but quality over quantity.

The point is that friends and family are important. I want my parents to have friends. They mean everything to me, and they should be happy. But when your parents become best friends with the mother of James Potter, your annoying, lazy, infuriating, arrogant, childish prat of an ex-boyfriend, and invite them to spend the Christmas holidays with your family, you start to question the relativity of happiness. Right before you lose your sanity, of course.

Truth be told, James—I mean, Potter and I only "fell in love," as silly first years would put it, because my parents became best friends with Mr. and Mrs. Potter this summer at our beach house in Shriver. If I had known then that James—Potter and I were going to break up after four months, two weeks, and one day, I would have never let the Potters in our perfect blue beach house for pasta dinner that first day.

Okay, I'm being a tad dramatic. But I am not bitter. We broke up twelve days ago, after all. I don't even know the definition of bitter; I'm so okay with this breakup. Not bitter at all.

I am, however, kind-hearted, thoughtful, selfless, and sensitive. I am also an idiot. A mad, raving, lock-me-up-when-I-get-loose lunatic.

See, Mum is sick—skin cancer—and we aren't sure if she's ever going to get better. When she found a best friend in Mrs. Potter, obviously I was thrilled. (This was pre-questioning the meaning of happiness and my ability to stay out of the loony bin, you see.) And when my parents started mentioning that Mrs. Potter and James wanted to spend the holidays with us (Mr. Potter sadly passed in early August), I was truly supportive. I love Mrs. Potter, my parents were happy, and it had meant more time to spend kissing James. It was a perfect plan.

Mum started to get worse, though, and so did my relationship with James. What was I supposed to do? Write a letter to Mum explaining everything?

"Sorry, Mum, I know you and Dad have been talking about Christmas with the Potters for the past four months, but we can't stay with them anymore because I discovered James is an idiot and so am I for thinking we could be together. I know this may be your last Christmas, but tough. Blame it on James. All my love, Lily."

Of bloody course not! I would like to keep my family speaking to me, you know. If my parents hate me, I've only then got five friends! (Joking. I have seven. I swear.)

So I said nothing. I let them think James and I are still happily together. The plan was foolproof. If by foolproof you mean only a fool like me would actually think this was a good idea.

Now, as I lug my trunk off the crimson train and onto Platform 9 ¾ , my owl Clarence squawking impatiently, I'm struck by the utter ridiculousness of my situation. Will jumping in front of the Hogwarts Express as it pulls away hurt? Can I convince a fifth year to lug me over the head with his trunk of dirty robes? The possibilities are endless.

"This is going to be a disaster," I mumble to Marlene, my best friend.

"Oh, yes it is," she says gleefully. Apparently she finds the whole situation "hilarious." She thinks James and I shouldn't have split up in the first place and my not telling my parents about us was "stupider than our last three Defense professors combined." (Trust me: if you knew them, you would be so offended you might question our friendship.) I glare at her while she pulls her thick blonde hair into a ponytail. She ignores my gaze and chuckles to herself again. Correction: I truly only have six friends.

"What could I have possibly done, Marlene? My parents would be crushed if they found out James and I aren't together anymore."

They would likely be even more upset than James is, which is remarkably little. Not that I'm upset or anything. His inability to feel any sort of emotion that doesn't involve Quidditch is not a new concept to me.

"Besides, if my mum survived the heart attack she would have had after I told her, she and Mrs. Potter would probably have been thrilled for the opportunity to meddle." It was like they had placed money on us last summer. Good thing they didn't bet on how long we would be together. Beans for Christmas really would have sucked.

Marlene and I weave our way through the crowd, looking for our families. Marlene's little sister, Sophie, a fifth year Ravenclaw, had bounded ahead of us. Her strawberry blonde head darts through the crowd in search of Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon and Marlene's twin baby brothers, only five. I scan the crowd looking for my dad's balding head or my mum's bright smile. I don't bother to look for any part of Petunia.

"The least you could have done is told James your parents are still under the impression that you two are madly in love," points out Marlene.

"Yes, but that would require talking to Potter, and I would rather pretend that I'll get stranded in a snowstorm and be unable to go to his house."

"Good plan," says Marlene drily. Merlin, calm down, Scrooge. "Before you get stuck in a blizzard, though, you might want to let James know you kept your little break a secret, considering he's headed right for your family." She nods ahead towards our left. Dad and Mrs. Potter are standing together, wide grins splitting their faces, as James makes his way towards them. His messy black hair and tall frame make it easy to pick him out of the crowd. Mrs. Potter starts to look around with a question in her eyes, but when she sees me, her smile returns.

I curse under my breath. "Right," I say. "Welcome to hell, Lily." I hug Marlene quickly and rush over to grab Potter before he reaches my dad and his mother.

"Good luck!" calls Marlene. I can hear the laughter in her voice. I'm writing to her parents and telling them to take away all her Christmas presents. And I'm keeping the beautiful necklace I got her for myself. It's only fair, sorry, Marlene.

I run over someone's foot with my trunk in my dash to reach Potter and mutter an apology. When I hear them still grumbling, I want to shout, "Can't you see I'm in the middle of a CRISIS?" I don't, though, as I am focused on intercepting Potter's path while he's still a fair distance away. Also because I'm trying this new thing where I don't say everything that comes to my mind. Weird, right?

I dart in front of Potter. "Hi."

"Hey," he says surprised.

"Listen, my parents still think we're together—"

"They what?" He looks like I told him I was going to murder him right there on the spot. God, Potter. I know being around me is miserable, but you think you could keep your disgust to a minimum. I roll my eyes.

"I haven't told my parents we broke up." I eye him suspiciously. "Did you tell your mum?"

"Of course I did!" he exclaims as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. "Since we'll all be spending only a few days together, I figured she would want to know why you were being a complete prig to me."

That little— Right. Good. Now I know how these next few days will go. "She birthed and raised you. I'm sure she won't find my behavior towards you unfounded at all."

"Funny, Evans. I wish you had that sense of humor before," he says. "Or maybe not, since your idea of a joke is telling your parents we broke up while my mum and I stand right there."

"We're not telling my parents," I say forcefully.

"Are you mad? Why not?"

I glance over my shoulder. Mrs. Potter and Dad look extremely puzzled. We have to hurry up and go see them or else they'll come to us. "In case, you forgot all last summer, and considering you didn't listen to a single thing I said for the past four months"—he opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off—"I'm going to remind you that my mum is sick. If this is her last Christmas, I'm not going to ruin it by telling her that her best friend's son was a mistake and I won't be joining them for Christmas."

James's eyes narrow into slits behind his round glasses. He clenches his jaw, and I've become so familiar with the expression; I know he's infuriated. I try to ignore the sharpness of his jaw and the memory of my fingers tracing the lines of his face—

"Merlin, Evans, I know she's sick. Trust me—I know." I don't respond. I hate the sincerity in his voice. It makes it harder for me to swallow and breathe and blink. And I really do like swallowing and breathing and blinking. "So what, we pretend to still be together for the sake of our parents?"

"Yes." I thrust my trunk towards him. "Now carry my stuff and be a better pretend boyfriend than you were a real boyfriend."

He looks at me, stunned. His mouth hangs open as he tries to grasp my trunk in addition to his own and his owl's cage. Who is in fact not named Otis—it's Ernie, but I've heard James slip up and call him Otis. "You mean to say that I'm spending my Christmas holiday with you, Lily Evans, trying to convince our parents, who are not idiots, by the way, that I'm in love with you?"

I nod tersely and quickly stride away, ready to run into my dad's outstretched arms, when I hear him mumble behind me, "You have got to be joking."

The urge to roll my eyes at his stupidity is strong, but I withhold, knowing I'll be rolling them plenty these next few days. I've got to keep my strength up. I quickly shove my way through the crowd, hopping into my dad's arms.

"Ah, my beautiful girl!" he says while gripping me tight. I hug him hard against his smooth dark brown jacket and smell his cologne. I hadn't realized how much I missed him until I feel a stinging behind my eyes. Pathetic. I should be a grown woman. Dad swings me a bit, and I see Mrs. Potter fiercely hugging James. The stinging eyes must have hit her hard, because she begins to cry and mutters something indistinguishable to James. I ignore the pain in my chest. Probably a minor heart attack or something. Oh, maybe a collapsed lung! Definitely not feelings for James.

Dad puts me down and I smile at him. He grins in return, and the wrinkles around his eyes are the best wrinkles I've seen in months. (Sorry, McGonagall.) I want to shake Dad's few pieces of grey hair on top of his head and make him throw me on his broad back and carry me to the car.

"James, m'boy!" exclaims Dad. James steps forward to shake his hand, but Dad waves him off and hugs him, loudly clapping him on the back.

"Hi, Mrs. Potter," I say somewhat shyly. She knows! my brain is screaming at me. You! Are! A! Horrible! Ex-Girlfriend!

"Oh, I missed you, Lily." She sweeps me up into a hug. Wait, what? I hug her back, and when I surprisingly realize that I had missed her warm presence, I give her an extra squeeze.

She pulls back and cradles my cheek. Long, thick eyelashes frame her kind brown eyes, and her mouth—adorned with perfect red lipstick (I've got to ask for the name)—curves up gracefully. She looks at me like I'm her family.

Like a daughter.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit-

I quickly step back, nearly stumbling over my trunk. I flail backwards for a second, my ridiculous life flashing before my eyes, but catch my balance at the last second. Damn. Spending a few days in a coma surely would have gotten me away from this mess with James.

"Careful, dear," says Mrs. Potter. Oh, no. "Everyone ready to go?"

We nod. James quickly grabs his trunk and owl and starts walking, leaving me to carry my own belongings. Rude.

Mrs. Potter and Dad pester us about the train ride, our final assignments for the semester, the weather at Hogwarts, and everything else they can think to talk about. When we finally reach Dad's car, I wonder if there's going to be any more topics left to discuss.

Dad hoists our trunks into the back of our old—excuse me, "classic"—blue Volkswagen. Mrs. Potter sits in the front with Dad, leaving James and I to claim the back with our owls.

"So where are we going, Dad?" AKA: Where are we going to drop the Potters off?

"Home, of course."

I pause. "Where are the Potters going?" No point in beating around the bush with something useless my parents call "manners."

"Home, of course."

"Sorry?"

"They're staying with us, dear."

Dad pulls the car out of the parking lot and hits the familiar road home. I barely have enough thought in me to get excited about getting home. "Like, for dinner?" Please say for dinner, please say for dinner, please say for dinner—

Dad laughs. "No, they're staying with us until after Christmas."

"What?" yell James and I in unison. We quickly look at each other before rearranging our faces to express mild shock instead of pure horror.

Dad looks up into the rearview mirror, his bushy grey eyebrows raised. "Lily, didn't we—Oh, wait, we didn't." He chuckles. "Your mother and I meant to send you a letter, but Clarence never came home, so we had no way to tell you about our change of plans!" I gulp. I hate changes. I hate plans. "We were talking with Mrs. Potter, and we decided there was really no point in only spending a day or two together, since we want to spend the whole holiday together. Because your mother is still a bit ill, we didn't think it wise to have her so far from her doctors, just in case…" Yes, that's a fair point, but I was counting on the Potter mansion! I could survive a day or two there. They have so many bloody rooms; it would be a piece of cake to avoid James. Or I could lock him in a room and it could take the entire trip for us to find him. I was going to flip a coin to see what plan I would go for, but I was not-so-secretly hoping for the latter.

"Well, are we going home first to gather our belongings and then coming back?" asks James hopefully.

"No need for that," interjects Mrs. Potter. "I've already brought all our stuff."

"We're all set," adds Dad. "All we needed was you two!" He raps on the wheel joyfully.

No, no, no, no. Father… Why have you betrayed me so?

"Mum," says James. Uh-oh. I know that voice. That is not a polite, complimenting, getting-ready-to-love-you kind of voice. "You have an owl. You didn't write to tell me about the change of plans."

Mrs. Potter turns around in her seat. "Didn't I? Hmm, it must have slipped my mind." She smiles sweetly, flicking her knowing eyes between James and I.

I—She—Oh my—Merlin.

Since I was eleven years old, I had thought that James Potter was something of a spawn of Satan, but this… I have seen the light. It all makes sense. My eyes are opened.

"Besides," says my oblivious, life-ruining father, "we knew you two would want to spend as much time together as possible."

"Yeah, right."

"Of course," echoes James.

Let the countdown to Christmas begin.

Four hundred brutal hours later, we're home. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see our two-story brick house with faded red shutters. No matter who else is coming with you, it's still home. We push our way through the door, and my mother comes hurrying out of the kitchen, her hair hanging loose and her old pink floral apron tied around her chest. "Lily!" she squeals.

She hugs me tightly and I wrap my arms around her, completely ignoring how thin she feels and instead memorizing the feel of her hug and her smell and everything else about the first moment being home.

"Come in, come in." She bustles us inside. "Oh, James! You've gotten even taller and more handsome. Come here."

I hear him splutter a greeting as she presumably hugs him. My parents are huggers, unfortunately enough for our guests. I think they use it to weed out the pricks. I regret to inform you that Potter seems to have snuck under their radar.

Petunia is hovering under the archway connecting the foyer and the living room, her light blonde hair pulled into a perfect ponytail and her arms crossed over her dark blue jumper. She doesn't exactly smile, but she's not scowling either. It's a Christmas miracle.

"Hi, Petunia."

"Hey, Lily."

I reach out for a hug and she recoils slightly. I quickly draw back and drop my hands. Yeah, we hadn't hugged in God knows how long, but we have company. Isn't she the one who wants to have the perfect façade? I turn away from her and face James, who definitely saw our uncomfortable interaction. His eyebrows furrow in the middle. Great.

"Hey, Petunia," he says, recovering quickly.

She smiles tightly in return, but is marginally more welcoming towards Mrs. Potter. My parents barely notice. Well, at least she didn't call them freaks or spritz holy water on them.

"Let's get all this stuff out of the way!" says my mother with unfathomable energy. "Here, we can take them to your rooms."

I pause. We only have one guest bedroom in addition to my room, Petunia's room, and my parents' room. I know they can't expect Petunia and I to share a room. They're optimistic bordering on oblivious, but even they know better. Which means…

"Sorry, James," I say. "It looks like you'll be sleeping on the couch." I make a face to pretend to be sad for him.

He narrows his eyes. "Don't worry about it, dear. I could always sleep in your room…"

I fake aghast. I know. I. Fake. Aghast. Because for a brief, clinically insane moment, I didn't mind the idea. It sounded nice. I must be so exhausted that my brain has corroded away.

Dad startles. "Now, listen here—" Good one, James. Maybe you'll end this joint holiday even sooner all on your own.

Mum giggles. "No need for that! Look, we've got it all figured out." We follow her up our carpeted steps, lugging our belongings behind us. On the right at the top of the landing are my parents' room and Petunia's room. On the left are my room, the guest room, and our bathroom. Oh, and a linen closet on the end, but… Mom walks towards it. No. This is mad. They can't have—

"Ta-da!" says my mother, throwing open the door to the "linen closet" to reveal a fully furnished room. "Ella charmed a whole room for James! Isn't it unbelievable?" I hate magic sometimes. Really, really hate it. "I don't know why you never learned to do that at school, Lily, because it could have been extremely useful…"

Oh, sorry, Mum. I must have missed the interior-decorating course when I was learning useful things like Defense Against the Dark Arts and Herbology and Ancient Runes and—never mind.

"James and Lily, you can start to put your belongings away. Dinner should be ready in ten minutes," says Mum before bustling back down the stairs with everyone else following her. I don't look at James as I drag my trunk and Clarence to my room.

Clarence gives a pitiful hoot when he sees my room, aware that long days in his cage are ahead of him. "I know exactly how you feel," I mumble. I fling open my trunk, which is stuffed with jumpers, robes, books, spare quills, old and used parchment, and more. Unpacking during the holidays used to be a nightmare, but not anymore. I wave my wand, and the items from my trunk shoot into their proper place. Well, mostly. A few of my jumpers and books zoom under my bed, but they'll end up down there eventually. Magic just quickened my sloppy habits.

I walk down to James's room, knocking on the half-open door as I enter. I don't believe it. Is this some sick joke?

"Your room is nicer than mine."

Ridiculous.

James drops a couple jumpers in his dark wooden drawer and turns towards me. I make a note to never go in James's drawers. I learned that lesson last summer.

He smirks. "I told you that I couldn't help it that my mum spoils me."

"It still smells like a closet," I point out.

He looks around curiously. "Huh. I thought it was just your house."

Should have seen that smart mouth coming. I glare at him, but he only laughs. "Come on; that was a good one."

I cough to hide my smile. "Anyway, look, I just—" I shrug my shoulders. "Please do this for me, okay? For some ungodly reason, my mum loves you. She thinks we're good together. Petunia's wedding is next month, and she's probably hoping she'll get to see me married soon, too. So I know it sucks, having to pretend to like me now, but can you—"

"Lily, I said yes," he says irritably. He runs his hand through his black hair. "Look, I know. I get it. I wouldn't not help. Your parents are good people, and my mom wants—No, she, er, she needs you guys." His eyes roam around the room. "We've got friends in the wizarding world, but there's something about you all. She likes learning about being a Muggle, and she likes that your parents don't view her like the wife of Charlus Potter or the previous Head of the Department of Magical Transportation. I don't know if she could have made it this summer without your parents, so… Yeah. We can do this. It's only a few days, right?"

"Right." My throat feels thick. Am I going to start crying? Get it together, Evans. No crying.

"So, what are the rules?"

"Huh?"

"You know, the rules. You gave me rules when we pretended to be friends at that party on the beach this summer."

That feels like a century ago. I couldn't believe I was hanging out with James—and not in the good way. I had given him all these rules about how to be a Muggle, and one had been that we were to pretend we were actually friends. Lo and behold…

"Besides, you're the kind of girl to make up rules for Christmas and take out all the fun in the holiday," he jokes.

"Hah, hah. You're hilarious." I dated this? I need to learn about some self-respect.

James grins, revealing his straight white teeth and acting as if he knew me inside and out. Yeah, right. "I know you want to make up the rules. Come on, Evans, you're dying to lay down the law…"

"Rule number one," I say loudly, "is that you can't call me things like 'dear' or other cringe-worthy nicknames you come up with. You sounded like a grandpa downstairs."

"Oi, what am I supposed to call you then?"

"My name, perhaps?" Was he this stupid this summer? My memory's a bit foggy, but surely… "Or what you called me before."

"Okay, whatever. Rule number two is that you have to have fun this holiday and not be a boring stiff like at school."

What? "Rule number three: try to not act like a ten year old who has no concept of emotions or maturity."

"Rule number four: Don't tell my mum what I get up to at school."

"Rule number five: Don't lie to my parents to make it seem like I get up to anything at school."

"Rule number six: Don't tell my mum about Remus."

"Rule number seven: Don't tell my parents about anything You-Know-Who related."

"Rule number eight: Severus isn't allowed to come over."

"Rule number nine: Pretend the world doesn't revolve around you."

"Rule number ten: Try to have fun and stop worrying about the world. I have to say it twice, because it's bloody impossible—"

"Rule number eleven: Don't talk to my sister unless absolutely necessary."

"Rule number twelve: We don't talk about my dad."

"Rule number thirteen: Do not tell my parents about my job interview."

"Rule number fourteen: Don't tell my mom about the Quidditch bloke."

"Rule number thirteen: No kissing."

"What?" yelps James. "No kissing? How do you bleeding expect us to convince your parents that we're together if we don't kiss once? They know what teens feel—"

"Ew! Stop. Stop talking." My parents don't need to know what teens feel, and they definitely do not need to be thinking about it in relation to James and me. "Fine. You can kiss me, but only if it's absolutely necessary."

"Emergencies only. Got it."

"James! Lily!" comes my dad's voice from downstairs. "Dinner's ready!"

I look at James. This is it. This is what I've been afraid of for the past twelve days. I had thought it was bad enough that he had to be a part of my summer life in Shrivers, and here he is now, in my childhood home. He has now seen every single bit of my life-Muggle and wizard. You would think having nothing left to hide would be freeing, but it's a truly awful feeling. I must have been some prick in a past life.

"After you." James gestures towards the door, and I walk out of his ridiculous linen closet. I brace myself for the biggest lie I've told my parents, beating out the time I convinced them a flock of birds flew into the living room and destroyed everything, when in fact I had just been testing out my magic and flinging things around. But hey, I got away with that one, didn't I? This should be a piece of cake.

Mum cooked a ham for dinner with vegetables and potatoes. She keeps telling us not to eat too much because we still have dessert.

Conversation flows easily as my parents and Mrs. Potter talk about all the things we're going to do before Christmas—shopping, ice skating, decorating the tree, making cookies, and more. It's like they think we're a cutesy sitcom family. Er, hullo? Have they even been present for the past seventeen years?

"You two are being quiet," says Dad, pointing his fork at James and me, as we are sitting on the same side of the table, something Mrs. Potter insisted upon.

"We're just tired, Daddy."

"Yeah," says James. "That's all."

"You two aren't rowing, are you?" bursts my mum. Her blue eyes are wide and bouncing like tennis balls.

Yes. I feel like I'm being punished right now. This is worse than coal from Santa.

"No!" James laughs, rather convincingly I might add. "That's mad."

"Yeah, yeah, that's mad, Mu—"

James leans over and kisses me on the cheek, smack dab in the middle of my parents and his mum and my sister, who might have just choked on a piece of broccoli. I turn to look at him sharply. He considers THAT an emergency? That was NOT an emergency! That was a trial run! That was the prologue! What would we do in a real emergency? What if the stove caught on fire? Would he burn the whole bloody house down?

"What?" mouths James, a defensive look on his face.

"Relax, Lily," says my mum happily. "You're allowed to kiss in front of us." She looks at us expectantly.

No bloody way. This just got too creepy. She's going to ask if we've thought about baby names during dessert at this point. If she does, I'll spend Christmas on the streets.

"Good god, please don't," moans Petunia. "We are trying to eat here, Mum."

I don't think I've ever felt such a strong burst of love for my sister in the past six years. I try to smile at her gratefully, but she ignores my glance. Annnnddddd…there it goes.

"What have you been getting up to at school, hmm?" asks my dad. "No trouble, right? Making good, smart, safe choices?" He stares down James.

Rules number three, four, and five are at risk. Abort conversation, abort conversation!

I laugh. "Cut it out, Dad. We're Head Boy and Head Girl. We go to class; we do our assignments; that's it."

"She's right, sir," says James. "Lily's pretty responsible, so she keeps me in line most of the time. Lots of seventh years start to skip class, but not us. We never missed one class." My stomach churns. This boy is going to ruin me. "Not even Ancient Runes, which is incredibly boring."

I nod sincerely and reach for James's hand under the table. I ignore how easily his fingers thread between mine, and as soon as his hand is clasped in mine, I squeeze his traitorous hand so hard I hope he bruises. He tries to wriggle out of my grasp but I hold firm.

James looks at me and tries to give a cutesy smile, but I see his grimace. I smile back, wrinkling my nose a bit, and then smile at the rest of the table, searching for a distraction to take the attention away from my traitorous ex-boyfriend being a horrible pretend boyfriend.

"Has everyone already finished their holiday shopping? I could still use another trip to pick some last minute items up…"

Two and a Half Months Ago

My eyelids were having incredible difficulty staying open. Professor Mendes rarely talks about Ancient Runes in Ancient Runes class (I know, what a surprise), so oftentimes the students sleep in between his lessons while he drones on about something irrelevant. His voice is rather soothing, too. It works out perfectly for those of us that needed a nap in the day. In the past years I drifted in and out of consciousness, and Remus and I tried to teach ourselves the lessons later. It was our seventh year, though, and we were getting ready for our N.E.W.T.s, so we figured it was time we try to pay attention in class.

Try is the key word.

I could feel Remus's head dipping beside me. I doodled on the parchment in front of me in an effort to stay busy. Ancient Runes itself wasn't horribly boring, I suppose, but Mendes would take so many tangents that one minute he was talking about his trip to the Middle East and thirty minutes later he had smashed the entire lesson into four minutes of rambling.

The door to the classroom suddenly opened with a loud clatter, and the entire class whipped around to see who was there to save them from this torture, Mendes included.

To my surprise, it was James, looking awfully nervous.

"Sorry to interrupt, Professor Mendes. I was wondering if I could speak to the Head Girl briefly about a student emergency."

A couple students perked up. Student emergency? That meant gossip.

Oh, boy. I looked questioningly to Mendes, who nodded before I quickly moved to meet James in the corridor.

"Hey, what's going on?"

He kissed me on the cheek.

"How's class going?"

Huh? "As dreary as usual. What's the emergency?"

James leaned against the grey cobblestone wall, his robe open, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. "I missed you."

I laughed instinctively, a thrill shooting through me, and stepped forward. My hands wrapped nervously around his waist—we had only been together for almost a month at that point. "I missed you, too, you baby. Now tell me what the emergency is before another student sets himself on fire." Last week's emergency was a lot of fun; I've got to say. In a non-twisted, completely normal way.

"I missed you, that is the emergency." James grinned.

I slapped him on the shoulder. "Are you mad? You can't just pull me out of class to talk."

"Why not? We're Heads. We can do whatever we want."

"Did you even read the letter from Dumbledore? Or listen to him the first day here? Or listen to McGonagall any of the twelve hundred times she's harped on us about our duties?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p' sound. He smiled suddenly—and evilly. There was a new sparkle in his eyes. I've seen that sparkle. That sparkle can get you sent to prison. Or pregnant. Or dead. The possibilities seem endless. "You should skip with me."

"What? No!"

"Come on. I already left Muggle Studies; you might as well join me. Mendes won't care. He'll forget by dinner that you even left."

I shake my head and move back towards the door. "You know I can't—"

"I know you haven't. Try something new, Lils. You are, after all, dating a Marauder. A devilishly handsome one who really wants to spend time with his gorgeous girlfriend."

Gorgeous? Girlfriend? Yes, sure, whatever you say, James. Shall we drop out of school entirely? Maybe we can—

No! I knew I was better than that. Though his expression was incredibly convincing and made a part of me yearn for adventure, and his words had me embarrassingly weak in the knees, I couldn't.

"Sorry." I moved back towards the door. "See you at dinner?"

"Yeah, sure," said James. He wasn't mad—we had been working very hard at not being mad—but I knew he was disappointed.

When I entered the classroom, everyone turned around again. Most expressions were one of faint hope that I would entertain them by revealing what this "student emergency" really was. When I caught Severus's expression, though, it was not remotely hopeful. His black eyes were narrowed and his mouth was as thin as I had ever seen. I could sense the anger, disappointment, and disbelief from him. I had gotten this look a lot since September 1st, but I had hoped that when he realized I was happy with James, he would quit. The looks have diminished in number, but if I do catch his face when I'm with James or Sirius, Remus, or Peter, his expression is like a punch to the gut. My head quickly turned away towards my own seat, but I couldn't help but notice his clenched hands. Great. I sat down next to Remus.

"Student emergency, huh?" he asked in a knowing voice. Mendes continued with his lecture, but I certainly couldn't focus then. Not after James's hopeful request, my unwavering rejection, his quick defeat, and Severus's disgust.

Oh, fuck it, I thought.

I suddenly stood up, scraping my chair backwards. All heads turned towards me. Professor Mendes stared at me in shock.

"Excuse me, Professor Mendes, but may I be excused for the rest of class? There's an issue with the Head Boy."

"Why I—Well, I suppose you can, but if it is not truly an emergency—" stammered Mendes.

"It is." My belongings were thrown into my bag that I hoisted onto my shoulder.

"Tell James I said hi," muttered Remus.

"Shut up," I said. I nearly jogged out of the room, making sure not to look in Severus's vicinity. I could imagine his expression perfectly enough on my own.

Once I was out in the corridor, I looked rapidly from left to right, hoping to see James's retreating figure, but the halls were empty. Cursing under my breath, I decided to go left and hurried away from the classroom before I went back in and said something stupid like, "On second thought, who cares about an emergency and other students, am I right?"

Left was the right choice: a messy head of black hair was rounding the corner about twenty yards away. I ran, feeling like an idiot with my heavy bag flopping behind me. Heavy like the weight of my guilt ten years from now when I'm a barmaid because I failed all my N.E.W.T.s because of a silly, unbearable boy.

"James! Hey, James!"

He turned around, eyebrows meeting in the middle, but when he saw me chasing after him, he broke out into a grin.

"Hey," I said when I reached him, a bit breathless. How embarrassing.

"Hey." Look at that smile, I thought, feeling like I had made the right choice. "If you make me show up late to Defense, I will bury you in the Forbidden Forest and pretend that I've got no idea where you went."

"That makes perfect sense. Now hurry up—I rather like spending my time above the ground."

We snuck down to the Quidditch Pitch and flew around on spare broomsticks, which I thought I would hate doing, but I loved it. James kept trying to show me how to do tricks, and when I told him I was fine with simply hovering, he started to show off. Which I hated. Completely hated. I won once when we raced, and I pretended that he didn't let me. When we were sitting by the lake later, he said it was intentional, but I ignored him and wondered aloud when the Quidditch scouts were coming for me.

We didn't show up late to Defense: we skipped it entirely. Potions, as well. I had trouble facing Remus and his smirk that night in the Common Room.

I'm planning a lot of flashbacks throughout the chapters to fill in the details and explain what happened (also to keep the good fun stuff coming because there can only be so much angsty Jily) which I'm super excited about. There won't be a lot of angst and fighting butttttttt I mean they did breakup.

Like it? Hate it? Think this a horrible idea? How dare James and Lily breakup they are ~soul mates~? Leave a review and tell me and put this on story alert! (In all honesty, though, I'm a bit nervous about this so honest feedback would be great. Even things you want to see happen. Or cheesy things you definitely don't want to happen.) Thanks for reading, and have a good weekend (pretend I'm not posting this on a Friday...)

MG