The Beckoning Of Lovely

by My heart is 75 jily

Of the happily ever after they deserved but didn't get. Of war and terror and loss and death. Of tranquility and madness and realisations and arguements. Of pure chance and of meant to be. Of the impulsive and the sweet. Of the cocky and the witty. Of James and Lily. A Maruaders era fic.

1. Chapter 1

Preface

"And they kissed. And it was a truely legitimate kiss considering neither of them was drunk or half-asleep. Nobody was half-naked or filled with the "I see you and I want you and I must have you now" lust. Neither of them was dizzy or more importantly,
out-cold. The nausea was just from the near-death experience and the fact that the state this world was in nearly always made her sick to watch. And, the biggest reason possibly was that they were not dead. Oh. OH. They weren't dead when they almost
were but weren't quite. When they were in the middle of a war, not only against nature itself, but from the terrifying dominating instinct all us wee-pathetic-humans seem to have. When all we've done for years is ignore the fact that this instinct
is real and subtle and destructive and laughed at it as if the whole universe hasn't been trying to make us survive since the dawn of time. They weren't dead when lately everyone was. And don't get me wrong, she wrote, it wasn't the "everything faded
away as we kissed and we were the only two people left in the world" kind of kiss, because after all, their oh-so-tragic death experience was FOR their world and its people. Which a lovesick author might've tried to write in a lovesick novel as a
complication, where the fact that they were almost-but-not-really dead and they probably had little time left and they were in the middle of a war and they might die any moment were reasons NOT to love- which she, not a poet or a writer, but a warrior,
thought was utter bullshit. Because being together might be the thing willing her to fight and survive, that and the fact that she had been loving herself far longer than him and even more longer, her family, and more love was just gonna make everyone
stronger. Because just a little bit of love was better than no love at all, especially since it was pure. Because struggling to survive was not gonna work forever. Because this war wasn't the fictional zombie-filled future...which in hindsight might've
been easier to face, but the very present they lived in, filled with darkness and the fight against who used to be like their family, against the death wish those ignorant dark wizards don't realise they have, if they don't realise it soon." She looked
at an exhausted James lying beside her, covered in scratches and bruises, but contently snoring, and bent once again over her diary. "Because they were fighting this war with love, weren't they?"