A/N: Hello lovelies! This is my first story on , and I'm glad to start sharing stories. This is a little Jily oneshot. Thank you for reading! Please R&R!

-Melodie

It was only one evening, late in the common room 6th year, that Lily Evans began to like James Potter, when the bloke managed to be in the right place at the right time.

Approximately a week previously, Lily Evans had declined to play truth or dare in the privacy of the girl's dormitory, opting instead to polish up her Transfiguration essay that was due the next day. The bustle of the common room dies down and the embers of the fire began to dwindle, and the sound of a quill scratching filled the empty walls.

Just as Lily began to yawn and her eyelids began to droop, her attention was drawn away from tidying up the quills and parchment by the portrait swinging open. She hastily stood up as Professor McGonagall glided into the common room, her spectacles glinting slightly in the dying firelight and her mouth a thin line.

"Professor!" Lily exclaimed, her heart racing a little from the sudden entrance. "I was just-"

McGonagall cut her off suddenly, with a stern look that softened as she continued. "Ms. Evans, would you please pack your trunk and then proceed to Professor Dumbledore's office?"

"Have I-" Lily was blinking rapidly now, her palms shaking, "have I done something wrong, Professor?"

"No, you have done nothing wrong, Lily." The use of her first name astounded her - McGonagall never used anyone's first name, unless...

"Your parents were in an accident." McGonagall folded her hands tightly, speaking in a gentler tone then Lily had ever heard. "Your mother is being treated, but your father..."

The floor swayed under her feat, and she sat down quite abruptly, the thoughts in her head overtaking her urge to move.

Because her father was gone.

Six hours later, as the sun peeked over the horizon, Lily Evans sat adjacent to her sister, Petunia, next to her mother's hospital bed. Lily held her hand, watching the rise and fall of her chest and listening for the beep of the monitor, the only things anchoring her to reality. When her thoughts strayed, she had to use her free hand to wipe a fresh wave of tears from her cheeks, doing her best to ignore Petunia's scorching glare boring into her temple. Her sister hadn't spoken a word to her since she came in and sat beside their mother. Unlike Lily, Petunia had shed no tears during the silent wait.

The longer she was in that tiny white room, the rhythmic beeps the only noise filling her ears, the more the walls seemed to move - ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly - in towards Lily, beginning a slow suffocation. She gently set down her mother's hand on the blankets, acting delicately as if she would break at the slightest breath, and murmured her intentions to take a quick break for the bathroom. As she slipped out of the room, she took deep, gulping breaths of oxygen, trying to control her tears.

Behind her, a door opened.

"Oh, sure, go take your little break," Petunia marched forward, turning to look Lily in the eye. "It's not like you haven't been gone for the past six years."

"I've been at school, not avoiding Mum and Dad!"

"But it's all the same, isn't it? You haven't been there for them, Lily-"

"it's not like you have, either! You're off with Vernon or building your new pristine reputation, ready to dump us all at a moment's notice!" Lily spat back, feeling the angry pressure at the back of her eyes.

"But I'm not off in the Scottish countryside-"

"But you won't even look me in the eye, Petunia, and you know how much that hurts them-"

"Because you're a freak!"

Lily felt tears spill over her cheeks as her sister glared at her with the anger of a thousand suns. "Is this the time?" She choked. "Dad-"

"Dad's gone," Petunia said, scoffing at Lily's tears, "and if you weren't such a freak, he may be here."

"How-" Petunia cut Lily off by storming back into Mrs. Evan's room.

Even though there was no evidence behind Petunia's accusation, Lily couldn't help but feel the tears rise. The very thought that she could be responsible for the accident was unbearable. She had always wondered how her absence affected her parents - how could she know for sure?

Waling briskly down the hallway, she found the nearest bathroom, locked the door, and finally slumped to the ground.

Grief pressed on Lily like a sickly sweet scent, enveloping her consciousness, following her everywhere she went. Petunia's animosity didn't help the situation; cold indifference clung to her like a wet coat. So after the funeral, and her mother's release from the hospital, Lily Evans returned to Hogwarts six days after the Transfiguration essay - something so important only days before - was due.

Lily went through the motions, heard the condolences, and saw the pity thrown around her, as if a shield others were holding against her. As if the pity or sympathetic looks could break through the heavy weight pressed onto her chest, making every breath laborious, every movement a jolt of pain. But she smiled, let the words crash onto her skin, felt them roll off, a slight nod to acknowledge their existence. But in truth, Lily Evans was broken.

She was gone.

Like she had seven days before, Lily Evans declined to go to bed with her friends and roommates.

She opted, instead, to curl up in an armchair by the fire, staring into the embers. The fire soothed her; the dancing flames didn't look at her in pity, boring into her skull, like-

Petunia.

Sine their fight at the hospital, Petunia had barely spoken a word to Lily, save for when their mother was in their room. Only a few biting words were exchanged, but the meaning was clear.

Freak.

You killed Dad.

Just leave. You'll spare us.

You'll never be good enough.

The unspoken words, always swirling in her head...

It was too much.

The tears Lily hadn't been able to shed with Petunia's scorching glares - the sadness she hadn't been able to share - built up behind her eyes. She let out a half strangled sob - everything seemed to crash into her at once. But before Lily could break down, she heard a rustling behind her.

"Ev - Lily?"

The last voice Lily had wanted to hear. The straw to break the camel's back, some may say.

"What?" She mustered, between clenched teeth and eyes shut tight.

"Are - are you okay?"

She heard James settle onto an armchair near hers. It was like a sound she'd heard a million times - how many ties had her father settled into his own armchair?

Instead of responding, her emotional dam broke, and she felt all of the emotions of the past few days rush out so fast that they brought the tears with them.

"He - he's just - Tuney - I could - I could've-"

Beyond that, the body-racking sobs caused Lily's words to be completely indecipherable.

A few moments later, she felt an arm tentatively circle her shoulders.

"I know," James whispered in a gentler voice than lily had ever heard him speak in. "It wasn't your fault."

That's all Lily had wanted someone to say, and those were the words that would cause her to begin to warm to James Potter.

In later years, Lily would blame her state of grief on her sudden warmness. James would blame it on his dashing good looks and Lily's secret fancying of him.

So Lily turned into James' shoulder, letting him be the one comfort to her.

And as she leaned into him, letting his arms cover her, she just began to think, James Potter may not be such a bad bloke.