And Her Hair Was Red

Lily's hair was red. That was the first thing James noticed about her. Her eyes were red too; she'd been crying over something. Not that he cared to find out what. He barely glanced at her corner of the train compartment until that Snivellus spoke up about houses. She was neither impressed at his confidence nor charmed by his determination to be placed in Gryffindor. She was offended by his cruelty and stormed from his sight, hair flying behind her as the door close, and her hair was red.

Lily's lips were raw. Her front teeth tore those perfect little lips to shreds as she frantically scrawled out that essay. Probably the stress, James mused. From where he was lounging by the fireplace, he had a rather good view of that face of hers. The face with the raw lips. She bit them again. He'd offer to help her out but that would ruin the terribly entertaining show of her breaking down. She was overwhelmed, he decided, by the stress of having to keep up with the magic. It was always harder for muggle-borns at first. He would have helped her, but the show was just too good. Something about raw lips. Just when James allowed a smirk to form on his own, immaculate lips, Lily hung her head. The lips were obscured by a curtain of hair, and her hair was red.

Lily's cheeks were flushed. She was angry, James knew that for certain. How dare he attack poor, defenceless, angelic Severus? How dare he walk around with his head so inflated? It was all James could do not to chuckle; he loved how he was the only one who could flush those cheeks the way he did. To fluster Lily Evans was to be truly victorious. James vowed to fluster her as often as possible thereon. She snapped at him, said he wasn't really listening to her. He smiled in response, and oh how that flustered her further. It was delicious. She couldn't have known how much he loved to see her cheeks flushed. Her hair was pushed behind her ear by clumsy hands, and her hair was red.

Lily's eyes were green. So bright with sadness. She didn't want to talk to James. She never wanted to talk to him, but especially not now. Not now that she had lost her other him; the no longer poor, defenceless, nor angelic Severus. Was it wrong that James took a little pleasure in Severus' mistake? As he looked into those big green eyes, so hurt and so full of tears, he knew that it was. He didn't like that feeling in his chest. The pangs. He thought that if this was really the effect he had on Lily Evans it would be best to leave her alone. It was what she wanted. She asked him to leave once more before burying her face in her hands. As he walked away from her, feeling as though he should just give up, he gave her one last glance, and her hair was red.

Lily's laugh was infectious. It was a shocking Joke. It was terrible. He really really shouldn't have told it. But she laughed nonetheless. James had to laugh in response, her laughter spreading like disease. Making Lily Evans laugh had quickly become his favourite activity. There was just something in the way she grinned involuntarily at his words, letting out those absolutely fantastic giggles. It had to be the best sound in the world. James had to stop laughing as he stared at her. She was laughing too hard to notice. In the moment that her head was thrown back from delight, James knew he could never give up on Lily Evans. Her hair swished as she rocked backwards and forwards with laughter, and her hair was red.

Lily's hands were soft. James should've brought gloves, if not for him then for Lily. They were blue against his white. Their fingers interlocked and their foreheads touched and James was secretly grateful that he hadn't brought gloves. Lily's hands were just so soft to touch, even when blue at the harsh cold of winter. She whispered something that made him smile, their mouths were getting so very close. It wasn't that James didn't enjoy kissing Lily, in fact it had recently been promoted to his absolute favourite activity, but her hands were just so soft he didn't want to have to let them go. He moved closer, a slave to his desires, and kissed her. Determined not to release her hands, he tightened his grip on them. But then her mouth opened slightly and she leaned into him, deepening the kiss. All of a sudden his hands found their way into her hair, and her hair was red.

Lily's skin was ripped. That was the downside of a war, he supposed. James was good at healing, but he didn't trust himself. Not with something as vital as Lily's head. Instead he sent for help and waited by her side. She had put the weight of her head upon her left hand, but she was smiling up at him. She always had been brave. He wanted to kiss her but he thought she might topple off her chair at any further pressure. She was beautiful even when bleeding, he decided, which conclusively proved his theory that Lily Evans was beautiful in any and all situations. The blood was trickling from her forehead down her tired face, mixing with her hair, and her hair was red.

Lily's voice was broken. She refused to let James go. It was the only way, he told her, to give the baby a fighting chance. James was going to hold him up. She barely had seconds to beg him not to leave, but it was no use. She knew as well as he did that they were both going. It didn't particularly matter when. She fled the stairs under his incessant instruction, running to where their baby lay. The last thing he noticed as she ran through that door and out of his life forever was the whipping off hair, and her hair was red.