Summary: After the death of her parents, Lily Evans thinks there is only one thing she can do to save her remaining sister: she must leave the wizarding world. James Potter thinks otherwise. ONESHOT.
Disclaimer: Who's surprised to hear me say that I'm not JKR and that everything – except the quote – belongs to her? No one, hopefully, otherwise I'd have to classify you as highly gullible.
Author's Note: This is soooo random that it just cracks me up every time I read it. I was actually watching When Harry Met Sally when the idea popped in my head (although as far as I can tell there isn't really anything alike between the two…) and I ended up writing the rough draft in one sitting. Hopefully you don't find it too clichéd and far from canon.
By the way…this fic takes place at the end of winter break, right between terms. Sorry if that's not the right time that semesters end in Britain…I really had no idea.
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"Home is where the heart is."
– Pliny the Elder
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James Potter wasn't the type of person that allowed stress to influence him. He didn't worry when there was a test for History of Magic and he hadn't studied, he didn't panic when he couldn't find his broomstick on game day, and he didn't even bat an eyelash when McGonagall caught him in the teacher's lounge one day hiding pieces of jewelry in between the chair cushions in preparation of letting a Niffler loose. In fact, the only things he ever worried about were his best friends and Voldemort. Even then he remained cool and collected, always thinking logically and never coming near to losing his nerve.
The letter he had in his hands was about the closest thing that had ever caused him to be worked into a frenzy.
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EARLIER
Lily Evans gripped her quill in between her fingers and leaned back in her chair, staring unseeingly into the midnight sky. After a moment she turned her bright green eyes to the piece of parchment in front of her and bit her lip, her eyes scanning the only two words on the paper in the hopes of finding some sort of a hidden insight that would enable her to finish.
Dear James,She let out a sigh of frustration and stood up, running her hands through her dark auburn hair. She was seventeen years old; she wasn't supposed to be up at one o'clock at night worrying about something this serious. She wished, not for the first time, that she was a normal girl that didn't have to deal with the peculiar abnormalities and dramas of her life.
Knowing that she would have to get it over with eventually, she picked up the quill again and began to write.
Dear James,
I've been staring at this piece of parchment now for at least an hour, wondering how I'm going to say this to you. I suppose you're rather curious as to why I'm writing in the first place – after all, it was only last year that I wouldn't give you the time of day if your life depended on it. But I'd like to think that we're friends now, being the Head Boy and Girl.
Where do I begin? This would have been much easier if you would have stayed your old arrogant self, but you had to go changing on me this year. To tell you the truth, right now I almost wish that you had stayed the prat that you always were. Then I wouldn't feel so confused about this whole…situation. As it is, you, Head Boy, Quiddich Chaser extraordinaire, and most brilliant prankster Hogwarts has probably ever seen (don't let it get to your head), have somehow managed to change my opinion. You're not who you used to be, James. You're so much more mature.
I suppose it was this that made me start to become friends with you. Well, that and the fact that we had to come to some sort of a compromise to get anything done as Head Girl and Boy. It's surprising, really, how much I enjoy your company when you aren't trying to impress me or ask me out. I loved those conversations we used to have in our common room late at night, after curfew when all our friends had left and we were the only ones left awake. Ever since the beginning of the term, I had found myself making excuses to walk with you to the kitchens when I missed dinner, or join you for a study session in the library on Friday nights when I could have been off with my friends. I've started to depend on you.
But I'm not writing you to babble about how you've changed. What I'm going to say to you next is probably the hardest thing I've ever had to tell anyone before, maybe even harder than when I told Alice and Marlene.
It was the middle of December when it happened. I'm not sure if you remember – now that I think about it, I don't think I ever got round to telling you or anyone else what happened. At the time I thought it wasn't different from any other time; just a few jabs at a Muggleborn intended to scare me. I never thought that they'd actually do anything. And I should have. If I had only told someone this whole thing might have never happened… But I didn't. And it's too late to change anything now.
I think it was a Friday, but I'm not sure. Things like dates seem to slip out of my mind these days. Anyway, I'd just finished tutoring a second year in the library when I remembered that I'd left behind my Potions extra credit handout in the dungeons, so I decided to head down there and pick it up before dinner. On the way I ran into Bellatrix Black and her crowd – Lestrange, of course, and then Sirius' brother and Malfoy. When I walked by, intending to pass them, Black grabbed my robe and proceeded to give me the usual spew – you know; "Pay attention to your betters," "You're a filthy Mudblood," and "You better watch your back." It took several threats of detention and deduction of House points before they would finally leave, but right before she left, Black turned to me and said in a casual sort of voice, "I'd stay away from home for a while, Evans – if you want to live, that is."
I can still hear the words echoing in my ears, taunting me. I didn't think they meant anything. I thought she was just trying to scare me, trying to make me back down. I though that my family would be safe; that they had nothing to do with the wizarding world so nothing could possibly happen to them, much less so near to Christmas.
I was wrong.
Exactly six days later, I received an owl from the Ministry telling me that my parents had been killed in a Death Eater raid that had been specifically directed toward myfamily. The only reason my older sister had been spared was because she had been out on a date with her fiancé. Petunia hasn't spoken to me once since then, even now, at the beginning of January. When I saw her at the funeral a few days ago, she looked right past me as though she had never seen me in her life. I can't bring myself to blame her, though.
I'm reading this over now and I realize that I sound terribly neutral about the whole thing. When someone you love dies, it's hard to explain the feeling. You feel like your emotions are in a constant whirlwind, and yet when you put it on paper all you can say is: "Jack and Marie Evans died in December of 1975." Totally final. Totally absolute. Totally cold.
It's hard to remember how the rest of the term passed. It was lucky that we didn't have NEWTS until the end of the year or I would have been sure to fail them. I withdrew from everyone in the week that I found out, including you, and spent all my time in either classes or my dorm room, even neglecting my Head duties. I'm sorry now that I pushed you out without even an explanation – I know I said some horrible things when you asked me what was up, and believe me now, I meant noneof it. I guess I was just trying to ease my guilt a bit, even if it meant making someone else feel awful.
After several weeks, my guilt remained as fresh as if the accident had happened only the day before. I made myself a silent promise that no matter what the cost was I wouldn't let Petunia be the one to die next. I apologized to you and everyone else and tried my best to continue on as though nothing had ever happened. I think that everyone suspected that it was all just an act to try and cover up my grief, but I was relieved that no one ever brought it up. By the time we reached the end of the term, my mind was made up. I said goodbye to everyone after the train ride for winter break and went home to an empty house.
I'm leaving the wizarding world.
I know what you're thinking. I know you think I'm stupid for making such an important decision to save a sister that hates me. But you don't understand the depth of my guilt. I could have saved my parents – didn't Bellatrix tell me what they were going to do? And the Death Eaters had specifically targeted my family because of me. ME. I made my parents die. Now I have to do everything and anything I can to make sure I'm not the cause of Petunia's death as well.
…So now you know. I can't explain why I felt that I needed to tell you so much, especially since this is the hardest letter I've ever had to write in my life. Maybe it's because I start school tomorrow in the Muggle world and I need to get this off my chest. Maybe it's because I'm going to miss you so much. Either which way, as soon as I'm done sending this letter, I'm sending my owl to Alice and locking up my wand and books forever. There won't be any way to find me, so please don't try. I don't know if I could stand seeing any of you.
I almost can't believe how much I'm going to miss everything – Dumbledore's odd speeches, the end-of-the-year prank you and your friends play before every summer, the parties in the Gryffindor common room, even Binns' boring lectures and McGonagall's dreadful Transformation essays. I wish that I accepted your offer on a date sometime just to have known what would have happened. Now that I've gotten to know you I realize that I wronged you terribly in the past and you really are the nice bloke everyone else insisted you were. I guess it's fair to say that James Potter's charm has finally won Lily Evans over. You've grown up so much, it would be impossible not to have happened eventually. I'm just sorry you had to wait so long to hear me say that to you, much less when it's too late.
I guess all that remains to say is goodbye. I want you to know that as much as I hated you for playing all those pranks over the years, I'm going to need the memory of them to get through Muggle life. I can hear you and Sirius say the words now: "See! I told you they weren't useless tricks used only at the expense of others!" Anyhow, thank you. You showed me that life isn't only about schoolwork and classes, but about having fun and making memories. I just wish I would have discovered that earlier.
I won't ever forget you.
Goodbye forever,
Lily
With a final swish of the quill that would soon be at the bottom of a heavily padlocked trunk, Lily set the parchment down and looked at it for a moment, swallowing the lump in the back of her throat. Standing up as quietly as she could, she padded over to her bedroom window, noticing with weary anxiety that the sun was beginning its rise over the snow-covered houses. A glance at her watch told her that it was only six o'clock in the morning, but she knew that if she didn't send the letter now she'd end up changing her mind.
Whistling softly under her breath, she opened the bars of a large cage that belonged to Edgar, the black owl that she'd owned for four years now, the same owl that would belong to Alice soon. Carefully taking him out and ignoring his feeble pecks, she tied the letter to his leg and shooed him out the window. It took the bird a moment to fully set off, and even then it took two anxiety-filled minutes before he regained any semblance of balance and was able to point in a deliberate course.
There was no going back now. The only thing she could be sure of that, no matter how James took the news, she would never have to find out. Whether that was good or bad she couldn't decide.
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Lily gripped the handles of her bag a bit tighter, stepping out of her parents' old car to stand in front of an enormous Muggle school. She brushed invisible dust off her jeans and patted her hair down a bit, feeling not excited or nervous as would have been expected of someone entering a new school but rather horribly depressed. As she entered the building, she felt an odd sense of déjà vu sweep over her, as if she'd been there before. She quickly brushed away the thought – it was probably just old memories from primary school coming back – and made her way to the front office to get her new schedule.
By the time she found her locker, the hallways were filled with jostling students, all of them clustered in little groups with their friends and comparing schedules. Lily's throat tightened as she realized that she should be in Hogwarts now doing the exact same thing, but instead she was in the middle of a Muggle school feeling miserably out of place. Fumbling with the lock on the door, she soon found herself wishing that she had her wand to perform a simple Alohamora charm.
"Need some help?" someone asked from behind her. She turned to see a tall boy about her age standing in front of her, his hands in his pockets in a classic pose of nonchalance.
"If you don't mind," she said unenthusiastically, her voice lacking its usual vigor. Even though he was quite handsome she just couldn't seem to bring herself to be interested.
He came forward and banged on the spot just above the lock once, causing the door to pop open. "There you go," he said with a friendly smile, then, sticking his hand out, he said, "I'm Gary Brooks. Are you a transfer? I haven't seen you before and I figured it would be impossible to miss such a pretty face."
Lily's eyes clouded over upon hearing his line. James had used similar ones on her dozens of times before, and she couldn't help thinking it sounded better coming from his mouth. She noticed for the first time that, although Gary's hair was neat and his eyes were blue, he looked strangely similar to James. Maybe it was because of his confidence. She blinked and swallowed, pushing away a lump that had suddenly materialized in the back of her throat. Why was she thinking about James, of all people? She was over him. She was over Hogwarts. She was over magic.
"Lily Evans," she said after a moment, deciding to ignore his comment. "And yes, I'm a transfer."
He didn't seem at all daunted by her lack of flirtatious reaction. "Well, if you need any help just let me know," he said, sending her a charming grin that she returned only half-heartedly. "Do need help finding your first class?" She handed her schedule to him with a murmur of thanks, barely noticing his hand as it brushed against hers.
"Looks like you have Chemistry with Peterson first, which is upstairs in A-24," he said after scanning the page. "And look, we have Photography together."
After Gary had walked her to her class, Lily's memory of the day became quite fuzzy. She dimly remembered being introduced to a bunch of people she knew from her primary school, meeting Gary for lunch, and standing in the middle of a gossipy group of girls that she had just met. In spite of her resolution to adapt to Muggle life without any difficulties or regrets, she found her thoughts drifting, again and again, back to Hogwarts and – oddly enough – to James.
At long last, the day was finally over, leaving Lily to hurry to her locker to attempt to escape Gary, who had successfully managed to check up on her at ever passing so far. It was like having a stalker – albeit a handsome one. She shifted uncomfortably when she turned the corner to see him standing by her locker already.
"Hi," she said awkwardly when she reached him, shifting her bag on its position on her shoulder. He smiled and struck up a conversation almost immediately, asking how her first day was. When she'd gotten her things from her locker he didn't leave, as she'd expected him to, but offered to walk her outside. She agreed reluctantly and followed him to the shade of a large oak in the front courtyard. She dropped her bag and fixed what she hoped was an interested smile on her face, inwardly preparing for at least another ten minutes of being in his company.
Only vaguely paying attention while he blathered on about some local pub that had Friday Football Night every week, she allowed her gaze to wander beyond his shoulder, thinking distractedly about how she'd forgotten to take some of the moving pictures out of her bag and would have to lock them away with her other stuff when she got to her parents' house. (She still couldn't bear to think of it as belonging to her.)
"…so since you're relatively new, I thought we could go out sometime so I could show you around." Lily froze, but her attention wasn't focused on Gary.
"James?" she said in disbelief, her eyes trained on the lean figure of a handsome boy – man, really – with messy black hair and wire-rimmed glasses that was currently walking through the courtyard in Muggle clothing. She knew, even without seeing his eyes darting in between faces, that he was looking for her.
Almost as if he heard her voice, he turned around, his gaze locking on hers. Time seemed to slow down, empty spaces filling in her vision until she and James were the only ones left in the courtyard. She swallowed hard, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as her ears went from cold and hot within seconds. After a moment she realized that Gary had stopped talking and had turned to see James.
"I guess I'll catch you later," he decided quickly, catching the murderous glare James was giving him. Lily didn't even notice him leave, too busy trying to figure out why she was feeling relieved that James had found her rather than shocked and angry that he had looked in the first place.
It turned out that she didn't have to say anything. He strode up to her, and, before she could even open her mouth, crashed his lips on hers in a hard, desperate kiss. Completely shocked for a moment, it took Lily a few seconds to react before she hesitantly reached up to tangle her hands in his thick hair. His lips moved hungrily against hers, rough and aggressive and yet tantalizingly soft at the same time.
He finally broke away from her, breathing heavily, and backed up until his back was against the tree trunk. He grasped her hand and weaved his fingers through hers, holding on as though he were afraid she would run away from him. "Don't you ever," he began hoarsely. "do that again."
A blush crept to Lily's cheeks as she remembered what he was talking about. In the excitement of their reunion she had almost forgotten why she was here in a Muggle school in the first place. "James…" she began resignedly, "I – "
He cut her off again. "Lily, when I got that letter I thought – " He broke off, running his hands through his hair, his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. "A thousand things ran through my mind, actually – it wasn't just one." He shook his head and let out a short, humorless laugh, turning away as though he couldn't bear to face her.
"It was for the better," Lily said, breaking the short silence that followed his comment. His head jerked up to face her in shock.
"For the – Jesus, Lily!" he exploded. "For the better? How could you think that? You left without explaining anything to anyone – did you think that we would think it was for the better that we never got to say goodbye? How could you be so stupid as to think that there aren't other ways around this situation? Merlin, Lily – "
"This is my sister we're talking about here!" Lily retorted angrily, enraged that he would come all this way only to snog her senseless and then berate her. She jabbed her finger into his chest furiously, hot anger coursing through her. "My sister's life! She's the only one I've got left, James, what would you do?"
"I wouldn't be a stubborn ass and try and fix the problem myself!" he yelled back at her. "There's ways to get help, Lily, and if you just opened your eyes and stopped feeling sorry for yourself you'd see them!"
"Oh yeah, James, like I can get help," Lily rejoined harshly. "From who? Who would care enough for one little Muggleborn girl and her family when Voldemort's going to be the one going after them? Tell me that. Tell me anyone would care enough to bother risking their lives."
"You could have tried the Ministry. You could have asked Dumbledore. Instead you tried to hide and escape the problem. You didn't even ask your best friends what to do before you waltzed out of their lives! Hell, you didn't even tell them – or me, for that matter – when those Slytherins picked on you!"
"Shut up! All right? Shut up!" she yelled, more hurt by his comment about her friends than she let on. "I don't need help from anyone, okay? I'm not a little girl anymore! I can do whatever I want with my life without someone having to hold my hand the whole way!"
"Yeah, well you're doing a great job showing it," he scoffed, and somehow, his look of disgust stung her far more than his penetrating words. "Honestly, Lily, that's really mature – running away from the problem instead of dealing with it."
"How was I supposed to deal with it? Every time I look at my hands I see blood on them. My parents' blood! Don't stand in front of me pretending you know what it feels like, okay James? You know nothing. Nothing." She brushed her hand furiously under her eyes to clear the tears, ignoring the fact that her mascara was probably smearing all over the place.
"Apparently you don't know anything either," he said roughly, although his voice a good deal quieter now. He shifted so that he was standing right in front of her and she couldn't move without running into him. "This isn't your fault, Lily. This isn't anyone's fault except Voldemort's. You hear me? You were not the one who caused this!" She looked down, fighting back tears. He was not going to make her cry.
"Go away James. All right? Just leave," she said, surprising even herself by keeping a steady voice.
"I can't go away now. I can't leave you like this," he said, his voice dropping so that she could barely hear him. He met her gaze, his hazel eyes pleading with her green ones. "I can't leave you in a world all on your own, blaming yourself for something that would have happened no matter what."
"It wouldn't have happened if I said something," she said automatically.
He shook his head. "No, Lily. It would have happened no matter what. Haven't you noticed that almost every Muggleborn in the school has been affected by this war in one way or the other? You're not the only one to have suffered deaths in your family because of Voldemort. But I guess you were too wrapped up in your own misery to notice or even care about anyone else." He uttered the last sentence with sharp, biting words that left an acrid taste in Lily's mouth.
"Well none of those people were actually warned before their families were killed!" she snapped, knowing that her words were childish but finding nothing better to say.
"Are you listening to yourself?" James broke in heatedly. "Do you know how self-centered and utterly uncaring you sound right now? You had the nerveto call me selfish over the years, but look at you now! You're like a different person, Lily."
"So what if I am? What does it matter to you?" she challenged. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Look, I don't care if you understand or not. All I want to do is save my sister. I told you, didn't I, that I would do anything. And I mean to keep that promise. I can't have Petunia die too. And nothing you say, or anyone else for that matter, is going to change my mind. So just give it up, Potter." She pushed her way past him and stalked towards the parking lot, ignoring the prickling in her eyes and trying to control her rasping breaths.
"Lily," he said, catching up to her in a second and twisting her around to face him. "Lily, you – " He caught sight of her face and broke off, horrified that he had made her cry. "Oh God, Lily, I'm so sorry."
It was all she could take before she burst into tears. She tried to disentangle herself from him so she could get to her car, but he kept his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer to him in a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear, his voice breaking. "I never meant to hurt you, Lily…" Unable to restrain herself, she began to sob into his shirt, her shoulders shaking as her tears soaked his clothes. He didn't utter a word of complaint, merely holding her gently with her head against his chest, not saying anything.
It was only much later, when Lily's tears were spent and her racking sobs had subsided, that James would release her. She sniffed loudly and pulled away, straightening herself as best she could without looking at him. "Lily?" he said carefully, tenderly. "Lily, look at me."
It wasn't a question. She raised her face slowly to meet his, wishing that – for once – she had put aside her vanity and not worn any makeup. It must be running all over the place now. "Please don't go, Lily," he whispered, his eyes seeming to search her very soul. She felt naked.
"Stop it, James. Don't make me do this," she breathed, turning away from him to hide the fresh fall of tears that were threatening to flow from her eyes. "You don't know how much I had to go through to decide this. You don't know how I feel."
He took hold of her chin gently and forced her to look at him again, staring at her with a frighteningly intense gaze that held a mixture of emotions that she couldn't identify. "You wrote to me telling me how you felt. I'm just telling you that you don't have to feel like that," he whispered, his voice softening into the gentlest tone she had ever heard him use. His eyes drifted down to her lips, bright red and slightly swollen under the January sun, and he swallowed nervously.
"I thought my heart would break, you know," he added, so softly she could barely hear him. His eyes flicked back up to the upper part of her face in time to catch her blush.
"And why was that?" she said, her own voice equally as quiet. She found that she was unable to break away from his hazel eyes.
"Because I love you," he whispered back, and leaned forward to brush his lips against hers for the second time that day, his lips warm and sweet against her mouth. He broke away after just a few seconds, far too soon in her opinion, before leaning forward again to mark her with slow, chaste kisses.
"I love it when you get angry," he whispered, pressing his lips against the slope of her jaw. "I love it when you stay up to prepare for a test you probably could ace without studying." He kissed her lightly on a birthmark on her neck. "I love it when you defend the Slytherins even though they couldn't care less about you." He brushed his hand across the nape of her neck and kissed her earlobe. "I love it that you were the only one who ever turned me down." His tongue flicked up, tracing the lines of her face. "I love that you care more about your sister than yourself," he added, gently drawing her hands to his chest and pulling her in his arms. "And I love that you're the most amazing girl that I have ever and hopefully will ever meet."
He wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head against hers, holding her in his arms. "Lily…" Even the way he said her name made her feel beautiful. "Lily," he repeated tenderly, softly, drawing her heart out with every word. "I would search the entire country to try and find you if it just meant seeing you again."
Her eyes filled with tears again. "James," she said, her voice laden with emotions, desperately wishing he wasn't so good with words. "You're making this so hard."
His eyes flickered unhappily. "It doesn't have to be hard," he said quietly. "Go to Dumbledore, Lily. He'll help you, I promise." Her eyes still held an aura of doubt. "Please, Lily. At least you can try."
She expelled a deep breath and turned from his unwavering eyes, her gaze wandering over the courtyard. She knew, suddenly, why it had seemed as though she had seen it before. It almost an exact mirror of Hogwarts, discounting the bright neon clothes and a distinct lack of wands.
And yet…even though there were still students lazing around, still teachers lecturing the latest troublemakers, still people doing homework…she knew it wasn't. Hogwarts was somehow more than all of this. She would give anything to hear Alice and Marlene in the distance calling her name while an echo of an explosion (no doubt caused by the Marauders) split the silence. Her breath constricted in her throat.
It was where she belonged. It always had been, ever since she turned eleven, maybe even before. She was supposed to be there, with her kind. With her family. She had never fit in with the Muggle world, not really. And that wasn't about to change.
She swallowed hard, looking away from him. "Okay," she whispered. He looked up quickly, searching her eyes for any hint of deception. She lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. "Okay, I'll do it."
His face lit up. "You're serious?" he said, hardly believing that he had managed to convince her.
"I'm serious," she said. "But – " she added hastily, raising her hand to stop him from whooping on the spot, "I'm only going back if Dumbledore's positive Petunia will be safe."
"Dumbledore's a brilliant wizard. He'll figure something out," James said at once, grasping her hands and twirling her around him, his grin bright and infectious. "And if he doesn't," he added as an afterthought, "I will."
She bit her lip. "James – "
"I wasn't lying when I said all that stuff earlier," he said gravely, his smile fading from his face. He slid his hands over her shoulders and searched her gaze, his eyes flickering back and forth between hers. "I'm not asking you to feel the same way yet, Lily…I just want a chance."
A rosy blush stained her cheeks. He really did love her, then. She looked away, knowing that she must look a frightful mess with all the crying she had done, and said quietly, "You got my letter, James."
"What – what does that mean?" He knew that his stuttering wasn't helping him to live up to his suave reputation but couldn't bring himself to care – not as long as she was saying what he thought she was.
She peeked at him through her eyelashes, suddenly self-conscious. "I'll be happy to give you a go, is what I'm saying," she pronounced softly. When she finally risked a glance up, she saw that he was grinning from ear to ear, looking positively ecstatic. She thought she heard a brief "Thank you," before he had enveloped her in a breathtaking kiss, his mouth soft and sweet against hers. She pulled back after a few seconds, a grin creeping up her cheeks.
"So…now what?"
He quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Now…I get to ask you on a date. And you get to say yes."
She bit her lip, trying to hide a smile. "Alright. Ask."
A strange expression came into his eyes as he bent forward, leaning his forehead against hers and taking her hands. "Lily Evans, will you go out with me?" he said, souding so sincere that she had no doubt that he was telling the truth.
"Yes," she breathed. He grinned again, brushing a gentle kiss to her cheek.
"Finally."
She smiled into his shoulder, then frowned suddenly, struck by a sudden thought.
"James…why haven't you asked me out this year?"
"I wanted to forget," he confessed, looking away from her for a moment. "I wanted to stop caring, because I was sure you'd never say yes anyway. I had this whole plan to avoid you like the plague seventh year, but then I got Head Boy, and I got to know you better…" He shook his head ruefully, laughing slightly. "I never stood a chance."
She felt a tremor of guilt clench in her stomach. "I'm sorry," she said. He shrugged.
"Not your fault."
"No, it is," she said. "I never gave you a chance, James, and I should have. I always passed you off as an arrogant bully but I never stopped to look past the façade. You're not who I thought you were. I…I should have given you a chance."
"You're giving me a chance now, and that's all that matters." He smiled and inhaled deeply, stretching his arms out and to lace his fingers with hers. "Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?" she said curiously.
"Home," he said, smiling at her and playfully swinging their connected arms. She bit back a grin at the childish gesture.
"Hogwarts?"
He turned to grin at her devilishly. "Nope. You're coming with me for the rest of the holidays."
Her eyes turned to his, but he had already looked away and was staring raptly at a man on a riding lawnmower on the football fields. "What's up?" he said when he caught her appraising him. She smiled and shook her head.
She was finally going home.
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The End. Of this fic, anyway.
A few glitches that I'm sure you noticed:ONE: How could Lily go to a Muggle school after missing all of the courses you need in order to take certain classes? Well, I'm just going to say that she took Arithmancy since third year and was therefore fine with the math. As for stuff like English, world history, Chemistry, ect., you don't really need to have a lot of prior knowledge. (Except for maybe Chem, but let's forget about that for now…) THREE: They're what, seventeen years old, and James loves her? A bit young, right? The answer is yes, and I know that it's a little corny – or a lot, but who's talking? – but it sounded good, so I kept it. At the very least James had very strong feelings for her.
Moving on…Reviews would be lovely And remember that constructive criticism is always welcome!