It was a day in late March. A sunday. The trees were early in bloom, the air was sweet, and a light breeze swirled around the grounds of Hogwarts castle. James Potter loved these kinds of days because they were always so light and feathery, in a way. But not that day.
It was a slow day, that day.
Slow not in that it was uneventful or boring--quite the contrary--but slow in that time was lead-footed, and everything was moving with a little bit of delay. The kind of day where the air is heavy, and even the fastest tempo-ed songs seemed strung out and strangely articulate, every syllable accentuated. Every movement sharp and stunningly clear, and every little chirp of a bird, and ripple of water is longer, slower, and deeper. Every heartbeat, loud and defined.
James was feeling positively giddy that day. He loved the weather, and he loved the smell of the air, and he loved the girl staring out into the lake. He figured he might take his chances today, it had been 208 days since he had last asked her out. September first, on the train to Hogwarts. She had said no. But he hadn't asked since, and in 208 days of being Head Boy and Head Girl together, they had become close friends. Lily had figured that James had gotten over her, and was strangely dissatisfied. James had been waiting for this feeling to ripen as he moved closer to her personally, and learned more about her. So, now, after 208 days of friendship and 208 days of waiting, he decided to move in, as a gift to himself. It was his birthday, after all.
So he went through the forbidden forrest and found a patch of early bloomed forget-me-nots, which he knew to be Lily's favorite flower. He picked them and arranged them with wand work, and he now approached her, sitting dazed under the tree by the Black Lake. She had on a yellow blouse and a white flowing skirt, perfect for the spring air, and she looked out onto the lake with an expression that suggested she, too, was feeling the lull in the air.
He sat down next to her, she turned her head slowly, blinked slowly, and said slowly: "Hello, James."
"Hello, Lily," James returned, handing her the flowers.
"For me?" She sounded confused and surprised; off-guard. Perfect, James thought.
He chuckled, "Of course for you. Who else?"
"Oh... I don't know. What happened to that girl you were going on about the other day?"
James sat on the couch in the Head dorm listening to her go on about her theories of life and religion and love, really just glorying in the sound of her voice more than anything.
"But what about you?"
"What?" James was caught off-guard at having been addressed directly.
"I mean, is there anyone you're interested in?" She asked innocently. Before considering his answer, James admonished himself for having not been listening, her tone implying she had been talking about someone she liked. He didn't really consider anything before answering.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Won't tell."
"Is she pretty?"
"Breath-taking."
"Is she nice?"
"The kindest I know."
"So?"
"What?"
"Who is she?"
"It's a secret." In his mind James harbored a wish that it weren't a secret. That it didn't need to be.
"Oh, her," James said, returning Lily's smile.
"Yes, her."
"She was just a girl I had a crush on. No one important."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"So, what are you doing out on this lovely March twenty-seventh?" She asked him. The specifics of the question caught his attention away from her lovely green eyes, and to the fact that today was his birthday. He was an adult, now. A man. And he needed to start acting it, as his father used to tell him. He made himself a promise to ask out Lily, and so he would. And yet... even though he had done so a million and a half times before, all with the same nerves. The pit in your stomach that told you she'd say no, but still dared you to hope for an acceptance. This time felt worse. Her chances of accepting were higher, he supposed, but he had more to lose; so much more to lose, now. In fact, this was truly his last chance, if she said no now, then she would never say yes, for this was as close as they'd ever be only as friends. This was certainly the peak. And if not now, never.
But he could wait a few more minutes.
"I'm fine, and you?"
"Hmmm. It's been a long day. But I've been enjoying it, I suppose." She said looking out into the black depths of the lake in front of them.
"Yes, the day has been long. It feels slow and heavy, you know?" He asked looking into the bright green depths of her almond eyes.
"I can't shake the feeling that something important is going to happen. Something life changing." She looked down at the bindle of forget-me-nots in her hands, and then up at him. Her expression was pensive, but past that, indecipherable.
"Yeah," James knew the feeling. Maybe it was there under the pit in his gut. The kind you get right before you jump off a cliff. Or as your falling. He couldn't tell. He felt like he wanted to know how good it would feel to hear her say yes for the first time. Well, the second time.
2/14/96
"Hey, Evans!" He saw her silky hair whip around and her face melt into an expression of endearing disdain. He couldn't help but love her.
"What do you want, Potter?" She asked icily.
He was running, gaining speed, reaching that one spot and BAM! "A date." He jumped. He was flying, flailing in the air anticipation of the impossible.
"Yes!" She said, smiling her brilliant teeth at him. Her friends giggled. He was soaring now, his insides exploding in a sort of celebration. He had never felt so... elated; so very happy, so free! It was too good to be true.
"Really?"
"No. Bugger off."
She hadn't been smiling, she'd been smirking. Her friends hadn't been giggling, they'd been snickering. And he had not been flying, he'd been falling. And now he'd crashed.
He felt the lurch in his stomach that always accompanied sickness, and that memory. He couldn't ask her now. He couldn't go through with that again. No way.
But would not asking her make him a coward?
He was a man, now. He did not want to look back on his first day as a man and think of what a coward he'd been. He'd rather regret something he did than something he didn't, right?
He sucked in a large breath, and opened his mouth to speak. He was running, running, picking up speed.
"You know, it's days like these I'm just glad to be here. Just glad to have the circumstances I do. Glad to be alive." She breathed in the lovely air around her as James exhaled the breath that could have contained the words that would change their lives forever.
This time, he wouldn't waste these precious seconds. These seconds that could be passed with her slapping him across the face and storming off, or with them hugging, kissing, planning their life together...
But no. He mustn't let his mind wander. He must be a man, suck up his fear, and anxiety, and nerves, and... and just do it. No running start. Just...
"Go out with me, Lily?"
...jump.
Her expression didn't change. She looked at him for a minute. Looking deep into his hazel irises for some form of sincerity, of love. Over-satisfied in her search, she smiled, just a little.
"No."
"Are you kidding?" "Never in a million years!" "Not even in your dreams!" "When will you just stop asking?" "I can't believe your nerve, sometimes!" "James Potter, you disgust me!" "Bugger off!" "Think twice, Potter." "HA!" "Do I look like those girls that shadow you from room to room, begging for your approval?" "You're pathetic!" "Leave me alone, for once in your meaningless existence!" "Keep dreaming." "Good luck with that one, Potter." "Absolutely not." "No thank you!" "Ugh. The very idea sickens me."
"No."
"Oops. Force of habit." She said with a grin and a chuckle.
"Not even funny." He looked at her somberly, as he sighed in relief.
"I meant to say: 'Yes. I'd just love to go out with you, James.'"
"You drive me crazy, Evans, you know that?" James said, his heart beating wildly. He had never felt this joy in his life.
"Then why are you so persistent on being with me, exactly?"
"For exactly that reason."
The remainder of the day passed just as slow. They looked out and tried to see beyond the beauty of the Black Lake, but they couldn't. It stretched endlessly, to infinite and back.
Every word was a word they'd remember for decades. Every ripple of the water was engraved in their minds. Every blink of lashes, every touch of fingers, every heartbeat lasted a lifetime.
When, really, each was only the beginning of one.