She was crying, and for the life of him, James couldn't figure out why that was.
He had never seen her crying so hard, and on second thought, James realized it was because he'd never seen her cry at all. From what he'd noticed –and experienced –Lily was far more likely to yell than to burst into tears when upset. That something had somehow disturbed the balance of the universe as he knew it was troubling, frightening even, for a boy who despite all his so-called familiarity with girls in fact knew very little about women. He took a deep breath and braced himself before tentatively opening his mouth.
"Evans. Are-are you alright?" She took one look at him, as if about to go on one of her old diatribes, but proceeded to sob even more convulsively. At that moment, James thought darkly that he'd almost prefer the former. His foremost instinct was to run in the opposite direction –he positively hated it when girls cried –but this wasn't just any girl, this was Lily Evans, he had to remind himself, and so James approached her and carefully sat on the cold stone floor beside her small, shaking form.
"If something's the matter, you can tell me about it," he said quietly. "And I know something's the matter."
"Th-this is n-n-none of y-your b-b-b-business," she hiccupped.
"I'm the Head Boy. It's my job to take care of the students at this school, and you happen to be one of them, Miss Evans. You're crying, so you need to be taken care of, and therefore this is very much my business."
"Fuck off," she said, in the lowest and most desperate tone James had ever heard her use. She sounded as though she'd like nothing better for him to go to the opposite side of the castle and leave her to wallow in misery; naturally, James scooted closer and gingerly placed an arm around her. She tensed for one tense moment, before leaning into his soothing embrace and allowing sobs to continue racking her body.
"My parents are dead, Potter," she spat at long last. "Dead, in a bloody c-car accident. All these months I've been just waiting to see Surrey on the front page of the Daily Prophet and find out they've been killed in a Muggle attack, and they crash into a towtruck on the way to the grocery store. How could I have been so –so stupid?"
"Eva-Lily. I'm –I'm so sorr–" She went rigid.
"I should have been there," Lily said quietly. "I could have saved them."
"There's nothing you could have done."
"I could have helped them! I –I know healing charms. Loads of Muggleborns are going home lately anyways, I should have been smart and just gone with them, protected them-"
"Magic can't overcome death. You could have been killed too. There is no place you belong right now more than right here," James said firmly.
"Maybe so, but it doesn't change the fact that I wasn't with them when –I loved them! They were –my family, my entire family is –I don't have anyone."
"You have me, don't you?" She shook her head sadly, remaining silent. "You have me. And the boys. They'll do anything I ask them to, I promise. Just say the word, and-" she glared at him, and he stopped mid-sentence.
"Petunia's already sold the house," she said hoarsely.
"Come live with me," he said, at which she chuckled darkly, wiping at her tears.
"Realistic solutions, Potter," she joked, attempting a watery smile that did not reach her eyes.
"I mean it. Come live with me," he said seriously, at which she wrapped her arms around his neck and began crying again, burying her face in his shoulder.
"Shhhhh," he murmured, rubbing gentle circles upon her smooth back and deliriously stroking her long copper hair. It was so soft, and her body was so warm. Slowly, her sobs died down to tremulous whimpers, until she no longer seemed to be crying at all. He was not holding her for long when she abruptly pulled back.
"Kiss me." The simple request was so soft, barely a whisper. James would've been quite sure he'd imagined it –for indeed, it rang similar to his many other fleeting daydreams –if not for the blazing look of defiance in her eyes. He must have looked confused, because she repeated it.
"Kiss me," and this time James saw her lips form the words. Oh, how he wanted to oblige her! And yet…
"Why?" he wanted to know. His brain was screaming at him, demanding to know why he'd questioned the situation the moment it started going his way. But his heart, despite its own crazed and inexplicable urgings for the past few years wanted to know why? Why, indeed, did Lily Evans want him to kiss her when she'd solidly declared for the last three years that she'd sooner lock lips with the Giant Squid? Unless, of course, that'd already happened –James shook his head to clear his mind of such nonsense, Lily would never –but then she would never kiss him, would she? Well that was the thing, wasn't it? Would she? …and then she was trying to explain, to convince him.
"I-I need to feel alive again, James. I –everything is so empty and I'm completely alone, and I don't care anymore. There's nothing out there but death, everyone is so young, we're so young, and I-I…just want a few seconds t-to see-" and he was cupping her face with a large, callused hand and leaning in to swiftly bring his lips to hers and something happened and at last he knew, she knew, they knew, because it didn't matter, because they couldn't stand each another but they also couldn't live without one another because they were James Potter and Lily Evans and they loved each other.