Obviously: I don't own this.
As the tiny alarm clock by his bedside struck twelve, James slipped out of his large four poster bed, already dressed. Grabbing his wand and slippers, throwing on his invisibility cloak, to the sound of Sirius' snores, he walked quietly but purposefully towards the staircase that led to the common room. He knew he shouldn't go. He knew it. He knew he should get back into his warm bed and forget Lily Evans as she had forgotten him. He should ignore the deep ache in his heart the way she ignored him. He should lock his feelings in the deepest cranny of his mind, and never wander there. He should… but he couldn't. Every time he tried, the ache worsened. The hurt worsened. So he stopped and bared the pain, consoling himself with the fact that at least Lily Evans would never know how much she hurt him every time she refused to meet his pleading gaze. Pulling out his wand, he lit the tip with a whisper and crept down the stone cold stairs. The empty common room was empty, the fire flickering, as its last dying embers wrought their ghost upon the floor, the smoke snaking up into the chimney like a velvet ribbon. James kept walking. He knew where he had to go. His ears alert, he stepped out through the password hole into the dark corridor, his wand casting a small glow, elongating his thin shadow. He crept quietly, listening for the sound of someone, someone who would catch him, someone who would stop him… But the corridors were empty, the sound of snoring knights in the picture frames masking his dull footsteps. Taking the twists and turns of the vast castle, James wound his way to the infirmary. With a quick whisper, he put out his glowing wand and crept to the far corner of the room. There, in one of the beds, lay Lily Evans. In her peaceful sleep, she looked so beautiful. Her auburn hair glinting in the moon light that shone through the large window by her bed. He pink lips, slightly parted, the slow rise and fall of her shoulders as she traveled through the land of dreams. Taking a look around, James pulled off the invisibility cloak, his hazel eyes burning with unshed tears. Nobody knew he visited her. Nobody realized that he hadn't slept in the past week because ever since Lily had been petrified he had come to visit her. Nobody knew, and somehow, that made his time with her more special. Walking over to the vase that stood on her bedside table, James replaced the wilted flowers with new ones. Taking the roses, he plucked the buds off the stems, throwing open the window, he threw the lifeless flowers out the window into the wind and watched as they spiraled down into the lake. Someone would find them, but no one would know. Then, he sat on the corner of Lily's bed, his eyes staring at the window, the ache in his heart somehow more distant.
"I love you Lily," he whispered, more to himself than the sleeping girl. "You don't know it, but I love you so much. Every time I hurt Snivellus…" he took a deep breath "It's because I don't want you to love him." He sat there silently for a moment as his words sunk into him "I hate him because you like him… is that fair?"
The girl didn't move.
"I suppose not, you're right. You're always right. Sometimes it bothers me, because I wish I could be right just to impress you. But then I realize that's one of the things I love about you."
Silence again, the wind whistled outside and ruffled James' hair. Walked over to the window, he shut it, his eyes never leaving Lily's face.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming up the stair case. His heart in his throat, he grabbed his invisibility cloak off the floor and threw it over his head. Three people in tall black hats came up the steps into the hospital wing, they were carrying a stretcher. His heart pounding, James, ducked into the corner by Lily's bed to watch. With the creak of a door, Madam Pomfrey appeared, her dressing gown billowing as she walked briskly, her bun askew. "Another one?" she whispered dramatically.
"Sadly yes," Dumbledore answered as he walked over to the struggling wizards and with a flick of his wand, the body that had been on the stretcher floated into one of the comfy beds as the blanket bustled about tucking it in. As the boy rolled over, James caught a glimpse of his face; it was Tommy Jones, the boy in his ear that always managed to make his cauldron spontaneously explode every potions class. The boy's face was frozen in the expression that could only be described as something between shock and fear.
Please tell me what you think... I would really love that.
Hope you enjoyed my story, I will try to continue posting more of it soon.
*ilovethereforeiAM... Alessandra Moore*