"All right, Lily?"
"Yeah, sure."
No, not really. Couldn't they tell she was dying? It felt like it, anyway.
Everyone was celebrating, though, and she couldn't blame them for that. It would be their last New Year's Eve at Hogwarts, and was nearly the end of the break. They should be enjoying the party.
Lily looked around at the jovial students around the room; the four seventh-year boys dominated the party, as per usual. Drinks and snacks were being passed around (from who knew where- the boys always seemed to have them). She sunk deeper into the sofa, laying her head on the arm and looking at the fire. She ought to just go up to bed, but her whole body ached, and she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.
She felt someone sit down beside her, but it was too much effort to look at them. Probably one of the girls feeling obligated to check on her- perhaps if she ignored her, she'd go away.
"Lily?"
"Hm?"
"I think you should go see Madame Pomfrey."
Wha? Wait, that wasn't one of the girls.
Lily slowly turned her head to look blearily at the Head Boy. She tried to answer him, but couldn't push any English past the roughness of her throat.
James Potter's brow furrowed, and he reached over to feel her forehead.
James Potter was touching her forehead.
She didn't hate it.
"You're burning up, Lily. Let me take you to the hospital wing."
"No," she groaned. She swallowed and finally tore words out. "You should go have fun."
His eyebrows rose. "I'm afraid I can't do that."
"Hm?"
"There's a beautiful girl lying miserable on the sofa; how am I meant to go have fun?"
She let out a "hmph," not sure if she was more flattered or unimpressed, but still smiling weakly.
"Come on," he said, standing. "Up you get."
She groaned and snuggled a little deeper into the sofa.
Not. Moving.
He chuckled and then leaned down over her.
What was he doing?
Was he really?
Yes, he was really.
He scooped her up in his arms, blanket and all, and straightened.
"If you don't feel well enough to move, you're definitely going to the hospital wing."
Against her better judgment, she burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and moaned. He carried her all the way to the hospital wing, only pausing to take one of the moving staircases, squeezing her just a little tighter as they moved.
She didn't hate it.
Madame Pomfrey tried to shoo him away when he'd deposited Lily onto one of the beds, but he charmed her into letting him stay. Why would he want to stay?
The matron gave her a potion, told her that she'd stay the night right where she was, and that she'd check on her again in the morning. She ushered James away with her.
But he came back and sat down in a chair next to her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, finally feeling half-human.
"I'm staying with you- in case you need anything."
"I… Why? There's a party in the common room."
"I already told you; I can't have fun while you're miserable."
Something in her fluttered.
"James… I… Thank you. But you really don't have to."
"I know."
He sat back and got comfortable in the chair. Then he sat up, eyes widening.
"I should have asked- is there anything you need? Some water, or… or a book, or something?"
Her mouth dropped open, and she stammered for a moment. "No, I'm okay. Thanks."
He ran a hand through his hair, smiling (nervously?) at her. "Tell me if you do. I'm here to serve."
"Er… All right."
Why wouldn't her heart beat normally? It must be the flu the matron said she had. That would explain the heat that wouldn't leave her, and the racing heart, and the flutter.
It could explain the flutter, right?
They fell into silence for a few minutes, and then Lily looked James over appraisingly.
"Why are you doing this, James?"
He sent her a small smile.
Flutters.
He really was handsome.
Wait, what?
"You're sick. You need to be taken care of- at least, that's what my mum tells my dad when she's sick."
Lily laughed. "But you've seen to me. Why stay?"
"I want to be here if you need something. I… Lily, I like you. I thought you knew that."
She couldn't breathe. There were flutters, and a knot had formed in her throat. That was the flu, right?
"But… You stopped… I mean, you haven't…"
He sighed. "Remus finally got through to me that I might be going about it the wrong way. And pointed out that maybe you really just don't like me. So yeah, I stopped asking."
He still liked her? He still liked her.
Suddenly, he looked at his watch, eyebrows raising again. "Nearly New Year's, Lil."
She sat up and watched him a moment. "How long?"
"Ten… Nine… Eight…"
He still liked her.
"Seven… Six… Five…"
She'd spent the whole first term thinking that he'd moved on, or never truly liked her at all.
"Four… Three… Two…"
He barely got, "One," out as she threw herself into his arms and kissed him.
A little late, she remembered that she was sick and pulled away from him sheepishly.
"I'm sorry. I just… I'm so sorry, I forgot I'm-"
"Don't be. I've been waiting to kiss since you since I saw you on the train first year."
"That long?"
"That long. I'll take the flu, if I get you."
"That was really cheesy," she said, smiling.
"Don't care," he said with a grin, and kissed her.
She didn't hate it.