The Way We Fall

Author's Note: This is a response to the Daring, Different, Dangerous? Challenge challenge made by PenonPaperFingersonKeys over at the HPFC forum. I was given the pairing Alice/James and this fabulous quote of "Death is all around us and the sky is falling down - you know those blue-sky-green-grass days? They're gone." My prompt wasdecept(ion). I've had a terribly good time writing this first chapter and hope that you all enjoy!

Summary: Alice is falling victim. Victim and helpless to the only man she could ever dream of not crumbling down to her knees before, James Potter.


Chapter One – Setting the Trap

It's always like the way they meet in movies. Always. A summer romance that starts out spicy and ends in tears, a best friend casually deciding that one day they're just going to go out and say that they like you and have the both of you going on your marry ways as lovers for life, or, the classic, the arrogant one who does the stupidest things to get the girl's attention. I'll have to admit, I would have desperately loved my best friend confessing love to me, if only for the fact that my best friend was Lily Evans, and that I really didn't have too many friends outside of her.

That was just the way I was. That was they way I liked it to be. Me. Alone. In my world. Alice in Wonderland, as Lily calls it when she snaps her fingers in front of my face and tells me to get out of my wonderland when we're studying in the library. Too bad for me, that world was just about to get a hell of a lot bigger than I wanted it to be.

It started innocently enough. I'd thought that since Lily was busy studying her Saturday away, it would be completely acceptable for me to take a nice slow ride to Hogsmeade and sip a hot butterbeer outside of The Three Broomsticks in the cold of this mild snowstorm we were amidst. Wrong. Very wrong.

I tied my brown hair back in a ponytail with a rubber band I'd found on the ground somewhere as I headed to the carriages. Wonderland, however, was not on my side as I failed to notice footsteps approaching me.

"Where's Lily?" I heard him say, and this startled me.

I frown and walk a little faster. "Not here, Potter."

He walks a little faster, too. I pray to Merlin I don't see his face. Oh, how I hate that face that turns my insides out. "Well, than where is she."

"Not here," I say firmly, hearing him continue to get closer. I wonder if I can outrun him to the carriages and slam the door before he can sneak in with me like I know he's going to do.

I decide to go for it, stopping for a moment to give him an edge. I'm small and because of that I can run fast. Faster than Seeker Potter? I don't know yet, but I'm about to find out. I break at first into a fierce battle. The heat on my cheeks is bleeding from the snow that's throwing its icy bodies into them, and my feet need to gain speed before I can run on top of the snow like I did as a kid. It's hard enough, anyway. He's running too, and I feel it. He's not thinking and doing so the hard way, the boy way, this I know without looking, but it only makes me run harder. It only makes my hand grab at my bag tighter, my teeth clamp shut more firmly, and my feet run faster. Faster and faster until I feel like I'm flying and I know where my home is. I smirk, because it's no question weather I can make it, it's not my choice to do so anymore, it's that part of you that takes control when your brain won't.

But no. It's falling to a million pieces and I'm losing it. I can see the slippery wet ice patch ahead, but I don't care. I send myself into near suicide just to avoid Potter, to save Lily, I tell myself. And then I'm not flying even though I'm off the ground, I'm falling and I'm falling hard because my eyes clamp shut and my head tips back and I know this is the end and I should just give up hope and…

"Oomph!" James's stomach smashes into my head—or my head smashes into his stomach—and his harms let my legs dangle as they grip around the pits of my arms. He then slowly lets me slip down his legs as the back of my head gently hits the snow. I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

I see his eyes staring down at me when I dare to open mine, and I can see his body relax because of that sign of consciousness. Then, there he is again, smirking down at me with that face, those glasses that have slid to the end of his nose, and the hair that won't be tamed. I'm falling, and I know it.

As I start to get up, he crouches down besides me, his head appearing upside down from my point of view, arms pinning me down to the ground. "Where Is Lily?" He says it slowly as if I won't understand him.

"Studying with our dorm mates," I reply, struggling to get out of his grip. Luckily, he releases me, and I scramble to my feet in a fury. How dare he hold I girl down like that! I'm ready to take him; to tackle him to the ground and bite him. However, there's no fight, only me underestimating him.

"Okay," he says with a shrug and stands there, watching me.

I blink. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Now I'm sure something's up. It reeks of James Potter and a plan, a combination that are as good together as vinegar is with baking soda. My mind races for his next move. Will he move his night to my bishop? Or will he decide to go small and take a pon? This is a game of wizard's chess I'm frantic to win, even though hope is meager. Where's wonderland when I need it most?

"What are you getting at, Potter?" I'm stuck. No sense in putting on my poker face now.

He smiles. And I know I'm caught. "What are you getting on at, Alice?" He thinks he's so funny.

I'm annoyed now. My voice says so. "You know where Lily's at. Don't be stupid and go find her. Go rat me out and find her."

He's quick; too quick. "And why would I do that?" he says, his breath hot on my face as he creep forward. I step back.

There are many things I can do at this moment. If I wanted to play dirty, I could kick him in a lower area for all he's worth, so maybe he'd learn his lesson, because he's just that damn close. But I don't take cheap shots. I do what I want to do.

"Whatever." And then I'm off again, my hands shoved into my pockets and my feet slopping through the snow as I make the last leg to the carriages. I hear him run up behind me after awhile, which isn't too great of a surprise.

"Hey!" he exclaims, accusing me simply by the hurt look on his face. Funny. And I though his ego had no boundaries. Maybe I'm just cruel today. "Can't a guy just hang out?"

I intake the scent of the air and make no moves to acknowledge him in any way. He is the hunter and I am the pray too clever for even the land around me. That's how it's always been. And maybe, if I'm lucky, that is how it will stay. But I'm not know for much of anything besides herbs.

Seeing as I'm no longer protesting James' following me, he opens the door to the carriage for me to get in without question. I know what he's intending by our silent conversation. I accept and take a seat next to the window, automatically focusing my gaze on the peeks of the trees outside. He takes a seat across from me and I hear him settle in. Good. I've worn him out.

The steady rocking of the vehicle signaling motion begins. I'm relieved because of Lily, I tell myself, because Lily will get to study without Potter and I will still be able to go to Hogsmeade. This would be a sort of win-win situation if it were not for the fact that I cannot stand him. He is like the salt on my sugar that takes the bitterness away. And I need to bitter, or else I'm sweet, which is not the life of solitude I enjoy.

"So." The word runs coolly off of his lips.

Two can play at this game. "So."

He sighs. "Can we just forget about the past for five minutes, Ally?" He must think that's cute; Ally.

I brush it off. "Sure, why not," because I know I cannot say no to him.

Instantly, he brightens. "Good. Where we headed this fine Hogsmeade weekend?"

I shrug. "Where do you want to go?"

"Well, I like butterbeer."

The corners of my lips rise slightly. "Me too."

x

"If you don't like how things are, change it! You're not a tree." ~Jim Rohn

x

It's only noon, but we don't care. James sits down first, making his feet comfortable on the ledge and brushing some loose snow off of where I'm destined to sit. I flop down on the quite street corner with him, placing the two butterbeers I insisted on carrying between us.

He grabs his first and examines it, his mouth watering slightly as he flicks the cap off and guzzles the hot liquid down, a little golden dribble of the stuff falling down his face. I do the same, only I can't chug half of mine down at once. My tiny body can't take it.

He pulls his scarf over his mouth as he talks, so it sounds muffled by it and the distant traffic of students and citizens. "Why do I never see you at Hogsmeade?" he wonders out loud.

"I don't spend my time hooting about with Remus, Peter, and Sirius." The heat again slides down my throat making the rosiness of my cheek reappear.

"Eh."

I like this. I like talking with him. He's not worried about running into people or passing the next exam with flying colors like Lily is. He's different. And maybe it's this I've hated for so long.

"Quidditch," I say, because I know I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand.

He smiles as he drinks up the last of the butterbeer. "What about it, Gryffindor chaser?"

"We're taking down Hufflepuff, with or without you." My butterbeer's gone and I'm ready once again for whatever is going to be thrown at me.

He slams his glace down on the sidewalk and you can tell he's on fire. "Is that a promise, or a threat?"

"It's telling you to get your head in the game or else we'll put in a reserve." I'm winning, because he's hook, line, and sinker.

Dangerously, deadly, and powerfully, he leans in close, and I can smell the sent of butterbeer and peppermint that hangs off his tongue. "Well, I'm team captain, so what can you do to that?"

A glint is forming in my eyes, just like the one in his, and I decide to go for it. "Nothing at all."

He slams his fists on the ground and we get into a fit of laughter no one else would understand, because that's how we are, and how we've always been, and how we should be.

After that we just walk where no on else walks, where the snow has not been cleared and the trees are our only company aside from the occasional prowling creature. There's no rush to it, no spark that makes us want to do anything crazy. It's just us. It's just Alice and James. No wonderland. No Lily. None of it is a reasonable excuse anymore and I can accept that. How we could turn heads at all four tables by sitting across from each other in the Great Hall for lunch one day, or make Lily sick to her stomach by talking Quidditch together. Then I think for a moment about all of this, and wonder if it's just a now kind of thing like it's always been, or an always kind of thing.

James must have been wondering the same because he stops suddenly and stares up at an empty nest while he asks, "So what are we now, friends?"

"Hardly," I say, a little too harshly.

The twinge of that feeling you get when you've just drunken that carbonated muggle stuff Lily likes and now you're chewing on salt water taffy fogs the air around us. My brain is clouding out senses I didn't even know I had.

"Well, than we're nothing."

I think about this. "No, we're something."

He looks over at me and for a moment both of our eyes flicker down to the other's lips and then back, but we don't do anything. Just stare at each other knowing what we've just suggested. I remember his lips clearly; when they puckered to sip the butterbeer, when they gently blew frozen breaths of air, and when they curled into a warm smile. The slender, plush pinkish pillows that sit on his face and grace his features even greater. I'm curious… What would it be like kissing those lips?

Even if I did want to, however, I neglect at the fact that James has been after Lily for the past four years of schooling; ever since fourth year. In fact, if it were not for him being after Lily, he would not be here now, and we would not be standing as we are, and I would not be thinking about kissing him as I am now. So, again, Lily is my excuse, and I wonder if it's OK for me to start to hate her like I did James.

I don't know what he's thinking. I do know that if we say nothing else on the subject, that this is all we'll have again. These rare days when Sirius is far from his side and I have suddenly become his wingman, only I don't prowl the streets in search for a cute girl to make laugh with my dashingly good looks and corky personality. I don't bother with boys, really. Not much since Frank last year, but that's all caught in the past and this is the now and the now is without thoughts of anywhere else.

We again begin our steady tread further away from the village and I sense worry in the air, weather it'd be my own, or his.

"We should go back," suggests James, "I need to get some ink anyway."

I'm prepared for this. My hand digs in the sling over my shoulder and pulls out a new bottle of deep navy ink. I toss it back at him, James catching it without much effort. He now knows I'm not turning back.

An hour must have passed since we last spoke any words to each other. I find the path becoming steeper and rockier as we approach the small mountain range near Hogwarts. This is further than I've intended to go, but I figure that while we're here I should do what I've wanted to do for a while. I secure my bag at my side and begin to scale the rocky side of one of the smallest mountains I can see.

"Don't die, Ally," James calls below. I stare down at him, but he's not smirking, only looking up at me a bit forebodingly. I give him a slight curl of my lip to tell him that "Yeah, I won't."

It's not easy work, but it keeps me busy, and James on edge. The snow on the rocks makes them slippery, so I loose my footing a few times. Wind blows against the Gryffindor scarf around my neck, preventing me from seeing several times and causing me to be where I am now, dangling by a ledge with my glove skidding off slightly. I'm sure he would just love to do something, but I really don't think he can. And for once, this fact scares the living daylights out of me and makes me regret every mean thing I've ever said about James Potter.

"James!" I scream, after my attempt to grab my wand fails miserably, only succeeding in making my hand slide slightly out of my glove.

Since I'm about 20 feet in the air, I'm bound to get hurt if I fall down. I figure that's enough falling impact to at least break two of my limbs, and, more likely, something vital like my spine or head. I swear to Merlin, if it weren't for the fact that I was Gryffindor Chaser, I'm going to develop a fear of heights after this.

I can see through my rapidly moving eyes that James is now standing below where I am bound to fall.

"Let go!" he shouts up to me, his arms wide open and face desperate.

I scream again as my grasp slips further, trying hard to place my other hand back on the ledge. "No!" I holler back frantically.

He's more frantic this time. "You have to let go!"

"NO!" I'm screaming like my bloody head is being cut off.

"Let go, Alice! I'll catch you! Please trust me!" My grip is loose and I think for maybe a second that I should let go, but no. I cannot trust him.

I bark down at him with all my last efforts that, "I CAN'T JUST TRUST YOU TO CATCH ME! I DON'T EVEN TRUST MYSELF TO GET ME OFF THIS LEDGE, AND DO YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN—" I'm falling again today. Thank Merlin for flying because falling feels like being at a parade that rain is about to fall on.

Luckily, he gets some brains and pulls out his wand, instantly shouting out, "Wringardium Leviosa!"

Suddenly, I'm not falling, or flying. I'm somewhere in the middle. It's uncertain and scary, but all at once it's livening and it plays little games with my mind. Weather I like the way we fall or not, or if I'm in love with the way we fly, I cannot place how I feel about this subtle embrace that consumes me whole.

The feeling fades as his magic doesn't hold up to lower me completely and he just drops his wand, stumbling forward to catch me in his arms.

"Smooth," I say, somewhat dazed as I gaze up at the mix of worry and relief on his face as he hold me. James looks like he's just run because his hair is as messy as ever.

I see his lips spring into their natural smirk and I know he's recovered. He bends down and grabs my fallen glove and bag, slinging them over his shoulder, and begins walking towards Hogsmeade.

I frown up at him. "Are you going to let me go? I have feet you know."

He laughs. "Yeah, I know. And hell no."

I struggle to get away from him at this point, not approving of his methods. My feet try to wriggle away but his grip is steady, so I try harder, this time incorporating the rest of me. And he lets me go, but only for a second as we tumble to the ground, my back hitting the snow with his arms laced around my back and head on my chest. My breathing must sound just as raspy as his.

Before I can get away again, he untangles his hands from his back and props himself up over my face. Again I find myself staring down at his pinkish lips. Only this time they're getting bigger and closer and I'm beginning to feel his hot breath once again tickle my face.

James Potter leans down and kisses me full on the lips and I am without reaction for at least three seconds. My first instinct is to shove him off of me, and yell at him for being a bastard, but than I wouldn't have the slight chill running through my face and the graced sensation feathered on our connected lips. So I close my eyes and let my hand caress his cheek. He smiles against me and leans in just enough to make me go crazy for once and tilt my head some to the side and my other hand wind through his hair.

He's loving this, I know, and approves by giving me the first thing my emotions want, a pleasurable, muffled laugh, followed by a greater pressure on my lips that makes me want to cry and laugh all at once.

But it doesn't go further than there, mostly because we need air since our breaths were already short and because I don't feel like having my first French kiss now and here with him.

We just stare at each other for a while before we get up. I ask, "Why'd you do that?"

He just smiles back and steps close to me, coming to say in a low voice, "When you kiss a girl she'll follow you until you break her heart."

"You would know. I'm sure you've had plenty of experience."

He's sheepish now. "Nope. Just one."

I begin walking back to town. "Yeah, because that's believable."

"Hey! It's not my fault I was waiting around for Lily! I mean…" He trails off, realiving what he's just said and knowing that it's probably crushed every chance of me ever following him that he's had.

I think about Lily now. How could I forget about her so easily? She was like water that slipped right through my hands when it was just James and I. What would she say to this? I don't want to know about it yet. I'll explain it to her when I'm not busy fantasizing about being kissed by James Potter again. "What changed your mind then? Why didn't you wait for Lily?"

"I met her best friend."

And as if I hadn't fallen enough today, I suddenly found myself falling into the arms on James for another one of those kisses that feels like warm butter running down dough.