Fifth Year

It had been a beautiful day, and as the sun slunk behind the sky, Lily took solace in the darkness of the grounds. She tread softly over the soft soil, sniffling quietly as she made her way over to her favorite spot by the lake. She pushed back a few tree limbs and walked into the clearing, sitting on the marble bench. She didn't bother looking around; it was late, and no one would dare be out of the castle at this hour.

She wiped at her face messily. Merlin, it hurt, and she wished it didn't. The way the word had slipped past his lips, so faultlessly, so smoothly, had broken her more than the actual utterance of it. It had been an accident, he had said, but that was the point, wasn't it? It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have been thought, let alone said out loud.

The entire year had been out there. Everyone had seen it.

Lily buried her face in her palms, moaning to herself. Stupid girl, she chastised herself. She had really believed… she had really thought…

"Evans?"

The voice startled her, and she lifted her head quickly. She realized a fraction of a second too late that she hadn't bothered to wipe her eyes, and she could feel a stray tear fall down her cheek. She brushed it away, and she was certain he saw the bloodshot look to her eyes, and the flush of her cheeks. He had been there, for Merlin's sake. He had been the one to provoke him…

"I don't want you here, Potter." She tried to make her voice firm, but it broke on the last syllable. She thought she saw his face soften slightly as he took a tentative step forward. He shoved his hands in his pockets and peered at her from underneath his lashes.

"No, I suppose not."

Lily huffed to herself, turning her attention back to the lake. It was so beautiful, she thought. It had been even more beautiful in the afternoon light, with the sun and the breeze. Before she had heard the taunts…

"Why did you do it?" she heard herself ask.

James looked up at her, surprised. "What?"

She pushed her hair back from her face, embarrassed to be asking. "Why did you provoke him? You could've just… just left him alone, for once…"

"Lily, it wouldn't have changed anything. It would've happened eventually," he interrupted quietly. His voice was firm, though. "You know that."

And at that moment, the tears came back. Lily did not do weak, or vulnerable, and most certainly not in front of James Potter. But she didn't give a damn anymore, and so she left herself cry. James sat down on the bench wordlessly, and she subconsciously leaned her head against his shoulder.

She didn't see the look of bewilderment he sent her, or the soft smile that danced across his features for a moment. She didn't know that right then, he wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms and kiss her forehead and take away her pain. She did hear, however, the whispered, "I'm sorry," as her final distressed tear fell.

Seventh Year

"You just don't think, do you? You assume everything's fine, and it's okay to do whatever the hell you want, or say whatever the hell you want—"

She threw a pillow.

"That's not fair, and you know it—"

"You just talk to her as if I'm not standing right there and you act like I'm overreacting—"

Another pillow.

"Because you are!"

"James, you have to realize who you are, damn it!"

Two more were tossed in his direction.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she yelled (it's like talking to a child, Lily thought angrily), "That you have to realize the effect you have on people! Especially girls! And they—they—they drool over you and—"

"That's why you're mad? Because girls were flirting with me?"

"No, James! I'm mad because you flirted back!"

Her hands started to tremble as the truth of her words sank in. James stared at her, shocked, and she dropped the remaining pillows, sitting on his bed with her head in her hands. She had never felt so angry at another person before, and it wasn't even directed at him. It was a general anger. When she had seen him with that other girl… talking, laughing… the realization had hit her like a train, and it hurt like hell.

He sat next to her on the bed, leaving enough space between them so that she couldn't hit him. When she didn't move, he moved over, lifting her up and cradling her in his lap. "Lily," he said quietly. She peered through her hands, and he smiled at her softly.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he continued. "I… Lily, I'm with you, and she knew that, and if she thought she was going to change that, she's mad. Okay?" Lily nodded once. "Lily?"

She removed her hands, and a few tears fell into her lap. James reached up and brushed them away. She smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She sucked in a deep breath and murmured, "I love you."

He stared at her, and she stared back, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he wasn't going to say it back. But then he cracked a grin, and kissing her lips hard, he whispered, "I love you too, Lily Evans."

She let another tear slip past her lids. She wasn't sure if it was happy or sad.

Two Years Later

The tree was almost completely decorated, and music was drifting in through the tiny house from the Wizard's Radio in the corner of the room. The box of ornaments sat opened at one end of the couch, the star still not perched atop the tree. James was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the table in front of him, his arm draped around Lily as she leaned against his chest.

"This is never going to get finished," she hummed after a moment.

"Yes it is."

"James, it really isn't."

"Pessimist."

She laughed and sat up. He groaned in agitation, pulling her back down beside him, and she kissed his lips lightly as she grabbed his hand and dragged him into an upright position. "C'mon, you can put the star on, and then we'll be done."

"Why you insisted on doing this the Muggle way, I'll never know…"

"Because it's part of the tradition," she chastised. He rolled his eyes, grabbing the dainty gold star and stepping up to the tree. He sat it on the peak of the tree with ease, and turned back to his girlfriend, grinning cockily.

"See. Not so hard, was it?" she asked. He rolled his eyes again, and then leaned forward, grabbing her and kissing her softly. She smiled against his lips and laid her hands on his chest, drawing absentminded circles against it with her fingers. "James?" she murmured after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I'm going to get something to eat."

She pulled back and laughed at his outraged expression, blowing him a kiss. She walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of milk and a few spare holiday cookies before returning to the living room. James was no longer there, however, so with a shrug she sat down on the couch. Lily curled her knees into her chest as she nibbled on the cookie.

She admired the tree, with the snowy backdrop of the winter night. She adored Christmas; it reminded her of innocence, and the times before the war. She wondered how Remus was handling the full moon that night, and then shook it from her mind, because she knew he'd be alright. He always was.

A hand covered her eyes suddenly.

She shrieked.

"James, what the hell are you doing?" she laughed.

"Close your eyes."

"Your hand is over my eyes."

"Don't be cute. Just do it."

She did as instructed, and he removed his hand. She heard shuffling, and then: "Okay. Open."

She was smiling, and then she wasn't.

James was kneeling before her, with a box opened that looked suspiciously like a ring box, a nervous expression on his face. "Lily," he said slowly, "I love you. And I know we're young, and I know that we're in the middle of a war, but I think that's all the more reason, because…"

"James?"

"Right. To the point. I love you. And I don't want you to have to guess about that. Ever. Especially now…"

"James?"

"So, Lily Evans…"

"Oh my God."

"Will you marry me?"

Her hand was covering her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes. The ring was beautiful; simple, yet elegant, and she thought of how perfect it was. Her eyes searched James' face, and she saw how nervous he was, and she could see the fear building as she remained silent.

She jumped forward and latched her arms around his neck and she pressed her lips against his, pouring as much as she could into the kiss. She couldn't speak, and she only hoped it could convey everything she wished she could say: that she loved him, that she never wanted to live without him, that she didn't know what she would do otherwise.

They broke apart and he leaned his forward against hers. "Is that a yes?"

She nodded fervently, and he slipped the ring on her trembling hand. "James Potter, I love you."

He smiled softly. "Forever," he whispered, and he kissed her again.

She could feel tears falling, but she knew they were only of joy.