A/N: I suppose there are worthier endeavors I could be pursuing during my free time (chief among them is that fifteen page creative writing piece I've yet to embark upon). However, I was intrigued by the following story line, and so I thought I'd take a stab at it in the next few "parts". Read and review if you'd like.

Disclaimer: Most assuredly not mine.

The Gesture

Part I

Lily Evans sat on the top step of the staircase in the entry hall to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her arms rested on top of her knees, and with her right hand she held up her slowly sinking head. In the background, a clock chimed eleven times. Lily sighed and watched a mouse scamper along the floor of the dimly lit entrance way.

She raised her eyebrows and wondered if it was really too much for her to expect him to actually show up. James Potter had a nasty habit of being late for everything, and for not caring if her were late for everything. If was annoying, to say the least, when he didn't show up for Head Boy patrols around the school every Monday night like he was supposed to.

Lily would wait, always on the top step of the staircase in the entry hall, for him to rush down the moving stairs behind her, apologize twenty times for being late, offer to fix everything by taking her out to Hogsmeade village, and then finally shut up when he saw the look she wore on her face—one of severe disappointment and anger.

Lately, however, Lily had been engaging in some very… questionable behavior herself. Usually, she waited from nine, when patrols began, to nine forty-five. If James failed to show up in that time, he'd have to search her out as she made her own patrols around the castle. Recently, Lily had been willing to wait longer periods of time. Nine to ten. Nine to ten thirty. Finally, nine o'clock to eleven, sitting on the top step, waiting to hear the rush of feet on the stairs behind her.

And when James failed to show up? Lily felt something different from disappointment and anger. She felt a stab of hurt. Questions darted into her mind that had no business being there: Why didn't he show up? Was something the matter with him? Had he decided to patrol by himself? Didn't he want to meet her for patrols?

Lily could care less if James decided to patrol with her. He chattered nonstop when he did anyway; and Lily had always liked silent moments. If James did not what to show up on time, or at all, as it seemed now, well why should Lily care? The boy was a nuisance and always had been!

Lily closed her eyes and decided that she would certainly not stay a moment longer to wait for James when he couldn't even be bothered to show up for his obligation to her and to the school.

Her mind was starting to get dark and hazy with sleep as a door opened below her. Lily opened her eyes to see a cloaked figure rush in, covered in mud and panting loudly enough for Lily to hear him. Moonlight spilled in from the open doors behind him, turning the figure into an eerie silhouette.

"Lily," the figure gasped in a raspy, raw voice, his bright eyes trained on hers as he darted up the stairs.

"James?" Lily lifted her head off of her arms and stared.

She'd never seen James Potter look so ragged. His cloak and clothing was torn and dirty. His hands, white-knuckled as the clutched his wand and the end of his cloak, were scratched and bloodied. His glasses were oddly askew and his black hair, revealed as his hood fell back, stuck up more than was usual, which was definitely saying something.

"James, what's the matter with you?" Said Lily in a worried voice, "Are you quite all right? Where have you been?"

James collapsed on the step beneath her and looked up with troubled eyes. "Lily," he rasped again, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for not showing up!"

Lily shook her head and leaned forward. "What are you talking about? I don't care about that! Why are you bleeding? Are you very hurt?"

James looked down and replied, "No, no it's not me. I'm not hurt—not that hurt anyway. It's… It's Remus, Lily. Remus is hurt."

"Remus?" Lily jerked back. "What do you mean, Remus is hurt?"

"Lily," said James quickly, " I don't know if I should be talking to you right now… I think, I think I need to speak with Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore? Nonsense, Potter—you tell me what is going on right this instance! What's wrong with Remus? Where is he?"

James shook his head and stood up. He was shaking, and Lily grabbed his hand and tugged him back down onto the steps. James winced and pried his scratched hand out of Lily's grasp.

"Lily," said James slowly, "I really can't tell you…"

"James."

It was not a question, it was a demand, and James realized it as soon as his name left her lips. "Lily, we swore to each other that we wouldn't say anything to any one… It's a pact we had, don't you see? If I say something, I'll be the worst person on the face of the entire world! Remus is my friend—I can't betray him!"

"Remus is my friend, too, James," cried Lily, grabbing his shoulders. "Tell me what's the matter with him! Where is he, James?"

James took a breath and was quiet for a small moment, staring at Lily until she lifted her hands off of his shoulders. When he finally replied, it was a whisper that Lily could barely hear.

"In the Shrieking Shack."