Title: Delicious Ambiguity

Author: Jillian Ryn

Summary: After Lily escapes a death eater attack, her entire world changes. She and Sirius grow close and she realizes that she's been missing out on an entire world. As she and Sirius become friends, she realizes she's starting to develop feelings for another Marauder. James/Lily

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is God. She created all. And I love her for it.

Distribution: I would love for you to have it. Just let me know first. Thanks.

Author's Note: I realize that I should be working on Hidden. And I am. In fact, this is a way to get Hidden updated. I had writers block and so I just started writing. This is what came out. I hope you like it and I hope to have another chapter to Hidden up soon.

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I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.

Gilda Radner

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I used to think nail polish was important, like it mattered if my fingernails were apple-red or cherry-pink. Like it would some how alter the fabric of the universe. I would spend hours debating the colors with my best friend.

It was imperative that I always sat at the right table and smiled at the right people. I lived my entire life within the stone walls of the castle, ignorant to what was going on in the world outside. The war was a distant problem that I would never have to deal with and didn't understand. And besides, they would catch that psycho soon enough and this would all be over.

I was an idiot.

You learn that pretty quickly when you're shoved against a wall with a wand pressed against your throat. A white mask is all I can see. A white mask and crystal blue eyes with flecks of silver. The fact that they're gorgeous eyes flashes through my mind, right before I feel his hot breath against my cheek and feel the bile rising in my throat.

Sirius Black is next to me on the floor, he's breathing. Thank god. So many people aren't. They took his wand away, but they didn't kill him. He's a Black after all. I'm not. I'm a muggle-born. A mudblood. I don't know why I'm still alive. Black's hand is red and swollen and I'm sure that it's broken. But he'll live. I wonder if I will.

I feel something hot run across my lips and I realize that it must be blood. I try to figure out why my nose is bleeding. And I remember. Blue-Eyes slapped me so hard my neck cracked. My cheek is still hot from the impact and my jaw has a constant throbbing. It's like a pulse. Slower than the one I can feel racing through my body. I wonder if the man in front of me can hear my heart beating against my chest. I hope he can't. I don't want to give him the satisfaction.

After all, he's not that scary. Well, except when he looks at me like that. Like he's imagining a dark alley, muffled screams, and torn clothing. Then he's fucking terrifying.

I should be scareder. More scared? Does grammar matter anymore? Probably not. His eyes are running up and down my body and I feel a scream grow in the pit of my stomach, but I hold it back.

I refuse to scream. When they all popped into the room, I screamed. Everyone screamed. And the screaming hasn't stopped since. It's every where, and I refuse to add to it. One scream was all they got from me. It's all they'll ever get from me.

Women are crying. All around me I hear sobs. And pleading. Bargaining and tears. Grown men on their knees begging for their lives and in the middle of it all I see Mr. and Mrs. Potter, standing straight. Staring into the face of the monster, himself. They're going to die. That's why the Death Eaters are here. That's why He's here. To kill them or to torture them for information. Either way, they're going to die. And yet they stand perfectly still in the center of the storm.

I feel my back straighten and I raise my eyes to meet the Death Eater in front of me.

I've never been a beggar. And I'm too God Damn angry to cry.

Sirius moves on the floor next to me and the man with the deep blue eyes kicks him in the head. He doesn't move again.

I wonder if James is here. I hadn't seen him since we received our awards. I hope he's alive. He's probably not.

Blue-eyes runs his hand down my side, taking his time. I can't see his lips, but his eyes tell me he's smirking. His long fingers stop at my hips and his hand runs behind my back and pulls my body towards him.

I spit on him. It misses his eyes and hits the white mask. But I make my point. He slaps me again. This one so hard the room spins and I have to hold the wall to keep from collapsing to the floor.

I refuse to fall to the floor, until I'm dead or unconscious. I don't want to think about what will happen if I'm unconscious.

He drags me up again and thrusts me against the wall, his long bony fingers wrapped tightly around my throat. He's squeezing. I can feel my pulse beat franticly against his fingers, trying to escape. I grasp at his hand, trying desperately to pry his fingers away from my neck. I kick and flail. I scratch his arms, leaving angry red lines behind. It doesn't make the slightest bit of difference. His blue eyes are still smirking at me.

I don't give up. I refuse to give up.

My world is still swimming from the slap and the lack of oxygen is not helping. I look straight into his eyes as I feel the world dimming. I wonder if the last thing I'll ever see is his smirking blue eyes and the evil of that white mask. And I think about how much time I wasted picking out nail polish.

TBC

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Author's Note: I hope you liked it. I pretty much read it over once and then posted it, so there's sure to be some mistakes. Please review and tell me what you think. Honestly. Cause I can take it. Please, please, please review. If you all like it, they'll be an update in a few days.