I'll Never Let Anything Happen to You

written by: the young lady of legends

disclaimer: don't rub it in...i didn't create these characters, i'm just borrowing ms. rowling's genius!

the stuff that would be on the back cover if i were lucky enough to be published...aka a summary: voldemort is beginnning his ascent to power where Muggle-borns are being targeted. this cruel discrimination is breaking down lily evans so who else should be there to catch her should she fall? james potter of course.

ChapterOne:Whisper of War

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tick

Tock...

Tick

Tock...

"ARRRGH!" cried one aggravated Lily Evans, as she jumped up from her chair for added drama. The Gryffindor common room was as deserted as she'd ever seen it, Lily being the only living thing in there. Even the house elves had come and cleaned and left again, leaving Lily to unbearably loud silence. Or so she thought. Little did she know that hiding on the dormitory balcony was James Potter, watching her intently.

She'd been there studying for hours and estimated that the time was roughly 4 a.m. She looked disheveled: her normally sleek red hair was matted and resembled a bird's nest, her green eyes which normally shone brightly were half-shut, puffy and red, and a trail of drool that had dried lingered at the corner of her mouth.

Deciding to take a break from her NEWT studies, she plopped down upon the couch. "Who knew the common room couch was this lovely?" she asked no one. James held his breath in fear that she had caught on and knew that he was watching her.

Slowly her thoughts drifted to boy in her year. Not just a boy at random...a very specific one. One with messy dark hair and mischievous hazel eyes, Head Boy and captain of Gryffindor Quidditch team. Namely, James Potter.

And while the world saw that they didn't get along, who were they kidding? Everyone saw the chemistry and the sparks in their screaming matches, even James. But whereas James saw that Lily was interested, Lily couldn't see that about him. Convinced that he had no feelings for her, their seventh year was argument free. She let him win, because afterall, what did she care? And this left James without a clue. He'd never had problems talking to girls before, but Lily was different. She was special.

And they hadn't spoken in four months.

This is why James had turned to a form of... well, stalking. 'What is it that makes her so DIFFERENT all of a sudden?!' was a question that had been plaguing him from their first day back at Hogwarts. His ears perked up to listen as she sighed.

"Oh why me?!" she groaned, thinking of James. Why her? 'Why her?', indeed. She didn't understand why SHE of all people had to care about someone who she knew had no feelings for her. Why did she have to care about someone who thought of girls in the sense of accessories? He did change girls like he changed his socks, and Lily didn't want that. She wanted more.

James screwed up his face in confusion. "Why her?" he thought to himself. "What does she mean? What's happening to her?" He thought of nothing other than the stupid notion that Muggle-borns were inferior to the pure-bloods. They all saw it...the change in the wizarding world. Even some wizards who'd never had these thoughts of 'pure-bloods are superior' were beginning to treat families that weren't pure lowlier. But it was the Muggle-borns who were catching most of the wrath. James nearly snorted in disgust at the thought of the mad-man who was seeking followers in these beliefs. It was all his fault for this sickening

revolution

Indeed, this was one of Lily's many woes. This was precisely the reason she'd been up to all hours of the morning studying on several occasions, for fear that many wouldn't hire a Muggle-born. But even that wasn't her biggest worry. No...the thing that was really disturbing Lily was that James Potter was a pure-blood. His entire family had a pure line back to the very first witches and wizards, and to her knowledge not one of the Potters had married outside of the pure-blood line.

Before she could stop herself, all her troubles toppled down on her at once, and she began to softly cry. "What is wrong with me?!" she cried.

Above, James tensed. He couldn't believe that someone as stalwart as Lily Evans was actually crying. She'd endured so much more than many of them, being the only Muggle-born in their year. He didn't understand...what could possibly be worse than being ridiculed about being , what her torturers saw as, "lowly." Before he could think things through, or really know what he was doing, he began the descent to the common room. Lily seemed oblivious to the form slowly approaching her. He couldn't help himself...he wanted to hold her.

And that's exactly what he did. She jumped slightly, feeling someone there as whoever it was wrapped around her. She looked up once and met James' eyes. She couldn't explain it, but he made her feel so safe.

His heart slid down into his stomach as she looked up at him. Her eyes were red and swollen and he wanted to attack whatever it was that did this to her. Instead, he pulled her closer.

"Are you going to be okay?" he whispered after the crying began to slow.

She sniffed, "Yeah, it's just... Have you been so stressed that it just made you crazy?"

He nodded. "Yeah." And he had. Quidditch captain and Head Boy duties weren't exactly a field of daisies. He had a lot to be responsible for. Lucky for him, he had Snape to take out his frustrations on. When Lily wasn't looking of course.

She nodded, unable to think of anything else to say. She was speechless. This had to be one of the more thoughtful things she'd ever witnessed, and to come from someone (who she thought had been) as shallow as James Potter was astounding.

After a bit he asked, "Do you want to talk about it? I won't go blabbing...but if you'd rather not, that's fine too."

She blinked, followed by a heavy sigh. "Do you think there'll be a war?"

"What? With that mad man?" James asked, unable to think of anyone else.

Her eyes widened a bit, "You know, most people fear him...do you think it's wise to call him a...er, 'mad man'?"

He thought about it before replying, "Maybe. Maybe not. But even so, I don't scare too easily."

She giggled a little, "That explains why you're in Gryffindor."

"Yeah..." He wanted to ask her. But should he? Oh why not? "Does it bother you when...people call you that?"

She looked at him intently. No one had ever been daring enough to ask her that. Or maybe no one else really cared. "Yeah...it stings when someone says you've got dirty blood, and people look at you like you're rubbish. Low-class even." Then she realized something.

He was a pureblood that had just refused to say the word 'mudblood.'

"Don't you say it?" she asked.

"What? THAT?! Uh-uh." he said quickly.

"Well that's interesting." she thought to herself. "Do you think his people will tire of torturing Muggles and begin to hunt down muggle-borns?" she asked quietly. She'd never even voiced this worry aloud, much less to another human being.

He bit his lip. "I...I really don't know. I suppose it is possible." He hated to admit it, but not only was it possible, it was entirely probable.

She looked worried. And as if she might start to cry again. He tightened his arms around her. "But I promise...I will not let anything happen to you." he said. He didn't even mean for the words to come out. But there they were, and he expected a slap for them...but it never came. She smiled a watery smile at him before she said, "You better."

Click this purple button

REVIEW! Not that hard

PLEASE!