Chapter 1

"Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl since the flood

Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love."

-Ophelia by The Lumineers

Summer 1976: between 5th and 6th year

"Is this seat taken?" The voice from behind Lily was light and friendly. She turned from the fire to see the face of James Potter. His dark hair was askew and he clutched a butterbeer in both of his hands. Lily frowned and turned back to the fire. James hovered for a brief moment at her refusal to give him a straight answer and then took a leap of faith and settled himself next to her. He handed her the butterbeer. "Peace offering?"

Lily couldn't hold back a disgusted snort but fifteen years of good breeding and manners her mother had instilled in her did not prevent her from accepting the bottle. She still did not say anything, her eyes following the sparks from the fire as they spat up into the air and disappeared against the dark sky above her. She could feel James take a deep breath next to her.

"You know, Remus told me I should try being nice to you. He said that it might make you hate me less."

Lily's head snapped up and she met James's eye for the first time. "I don't hate you."

James couldn't help but grinning. "Oh. Well, that's good to know." He nervously ruffled his hair before grasping his own bottle of butterbeer again. Lily took a swig of her butterbeer and gagged. She almost spat out the liquid but swallowed. She could feel James watching her.

"Is this alcoholic? Are you trying to get me drunk?"

His eyes were twinkling. "Never had a taste of the real stuff, eh, Muggle?"

Lily frowned at him. "I've had alcohol before, if that's what you mean. But no, if you must know, I haven't had alcoholic Butterbeer before." She took another sip and swallowed it with much less fuss. "I just wasn't expecting it. Where did you get it?" James waved his arm back towards where he came, as if this answered her question.

"Do you like it?"

Lily frowned. "Yes, I think I might." She put the bottle down on the ground next to her and then looked at James. "What do you want, Potter?"

James's smile faded. He swallowed quickly, but didn't break eye contact with Lily. She could see his mind working up the courage to spit out what, once he started speaking, sounded rehearsed. "I wanted to apologize. About Snape at the end of last term. Down near the lake. About what I did and what he said-"

Lily cut him off, which both surprised him and threw him off his planned speech. "It's not your job to apologize for him, Potter."

His frowned and turned towards her. "I'm not apologizing for him. I think what he said was disgusting and terrible and completely out of line and cruel."

Lily shrugged. "Yes, it was. And so was your bullying him."

His entire face fell, reflecting the same disappointment and disbelief that Severus's had done only a month ago. But instead of Severus's anger and hurt that bloomed on his expression after the disappointment had melted away, here, the disappointment remained. "I…I know. And I'm sorry." Lily continued to stare at him, to the point where it grew too uncomfortable for him to remain looking at her, and he turned away, now staring into the fire. He was clutching at straws and his well-rehearsed speech that had sounded so good in his head an hour ago now felt flat and deflated. He kicked at the dirt and ripped his hands through his hair. Finally, his voice exceedingly tight and with the faintest hint of anger laced through it, he spoke. "I'm not like him. I'm not like them. I was raised better than that. Blood has nothing to do with magical ability. I think-"

"You think you're better than them." Lily interrupted simply.

James's eyes were back on her in an instant. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to!" She exclaimed, indignantly. "It's all over your face every time you look at Severus!" She shrugged. "Look, Potter, I don't really want to rehash this again. I've already had it out with Severus about what happened and I owe you nothing. I accept your apology, but I think you should be spending more time examining why you act the way you do instead of apologizing for the fact that it makes me and other people upset." James stared at her, looking dumbfounded. "Oh, please, stop looking at me like that. I get it, okay? I know you don't buy into the rhetoric of blood purity, even though it would be easy for you to do so given your background. I think that's really…." She trailed off, not sure if she wanted to give him the compliment or not, but forged on. "I think that's really noble. Obviously you don't agree with those kinds of ideas or you wouldn't be best friends with Black. Or Remus. Or Peter, for that matter. But…but that doesn't mean you don't have your own prejudices. You think you're better than Severus and you always have. You think you're better than him because he's poor, because he comes from an unstable home, because his things are dirty and not new and not shiny, because he doesn't like Quidditch like every other wizard boy, and because he thinks about the world differently than you-"

"Lily, he called you a- a-"

Her voice, which had been calm and collected, turned icy. "I know very well what he called me, Potter." She hissed at him, her emphasis on his last name. "You are not listening to me." She threw up her hands and stood up, her foot knocking over her bottle of butterbeer. She moved to go.

James was on his feet in the same instant and without even thinking, grabbed her hand. "No, please." She paused immediately and turned to look at him, her eyes moving from his face down his arm to their conjoined hand. James thought the smart thing would be to let go of her hand, but it was warm and her skin was soft and he had never touched Lily Evans without her immediately pulling away. "Please, Evans. I…I need to understand." He pulled her a little closer and grasped in the darkened shadows between them for her other hand. For reasons Lily would try to figure out much later that evening as she replayed the conversation in her head before she fell asleep, she let him pull her to him so they were standing in front of each other, hands clutched.

"Look, Potter, all I can tell you is my perspective. I…appreciate you standing up for me and other Muggle-born witches and wizards. You don't hear much from the wizarding community that is outwardly supportive of our having a place in our world and I think you and your friends, not to mention your father, taking a stand is incredibly admirable. But if that's the way you think…I don't think that everyone really buys it a lot of the time because of the way you act. You're a bully. You've always been a bully. You're entitled and think that rules don't apply to you because you're James Potter. And it degrades your true intent. It sullies the principles you jump to defend. There's an old Muggle saying…when they go low, we go high. If you really think you're different than Severus and his…friends…then show it. Not by continuously shoving it in your face how much better you think you are…be better. Be different. Otherwise, you're just like them…in nicer clothes." She pulled her hands from his and looked up at him. "I think you'd find everyone would like you a little bit more if you managed to do that."

James's face broke out into a slow, confident smile. "Everyone, eh?" Lily looked as if she was about to start in on him again and he put his hand up. "I'm kidding, Evans. Really. I…appreciate what you just said. Honestly. I think that…I think that you gave me a lot of things to think about." Lily stared at him, openly dumbfounded. This was obviously not the reaction she had expected. Finally, she swallowed and turned to go.

"Can I ask you one question?" She stopped at the sound of James's voice and turned back to him. She nodded. "Did you forgive him?"

"Severus?"

"Yes. Did you forgive him for what he called you?"

Lily searched his eyes. Finally, she nodded. "Yes. I did." James's face fell in disbelief and a brief flash of anger danced in his eyes. "I did it for myself. I did not want to hold onto that anger or give him the power over me to hurt me. So I forgave him. We are also no longer friends."

This seemed to satisfy James, perhaps more than he should have let on. "Are we, Evans?" James called after her. "Friends?"

For a third time, she turned back to him. "I don't know, Potter. Are we? Sounds like that's up to you. I'm not interested in being friends with bullies anymore. Any kind of bully." She paused. "Thanks for the butterbeer."