It's not even the fact that she's going out with Potter, or the fact that she's been ignoring me for the past few months, it's the fact that that she hasn't let one of those sweet Lily-smiles slip in my direction since that day, not a single one. You wouldn't think it would be so hard, not seeing her smile at me, but after all the years of laughter and pretty, grinning little lips, the absence is ridiculously unnerving.

But she's found happiness, hasn't she?

I should leave her alone, let her live in her precious, glimmering seconds with the one she wants.

It's a shame I'm too selfish to do that.

I turn back to the cup sitting on the table and add a single hair. Potter won't be missing it. Almost instantly, the potion turns a bright yellow, a yellow as blinding as the sun. Figures. His potion would turn into such a cheery color.

It took me a while to make, nearly a month, but now all that waiting, all that brewing in the bathroom in between classes, it's all over. I greedily grab the cup and observe its contents. The potion feels warm against my hands, and its texture is goopy, almost like slush.

It looks exactly how the book described it.

I raise it to my lips, and drink.

I'm immediately hit by perhaps the most unpleasant sensation I've ever experienced. It is the pain of being rolled over, stepped on, and punched in the face all in one. With a gasp, the empty cup falls from my hands, and I keel over, clutching my sides. My skin tingles, feels like it's bubbling, like every neuron is firing synapses in the wrong direction. It's like that for a few seconds when suddenly, it stops. I raise my hands to my face tentatively, feeling the skin. It isn't bubbling any longer. My hand travels upward to my hair and stops in confusion for a moment. It is used to longer locks, not these messy, choppy things, but the short hair confirms one thing.

I have successfully morphed into the body of James Potter.

I take a glance in the mirror. Yes, it's him. Well, me, actually. But him. Same annoying face, same hazel eyes, same untidy black hair. Curious, I lift up my shirt. And same physique. By god, the man is sculpted. I am slightly envious, but only for a moment.

I have less than an hour now.

I grab the pair of glasses I transfigured from a toothbrush earlier this morning and jam then on my face, then leave the bathroom. I can't afford to waste any of this precious time, not a single second. I planned everything yesterday, labored over it in meticulous detail. It is 5 o'clock now, and Potter has Quidditch practice until 7, so that leaves me a reasonable amount of time to safely confront Lily, who will be in the library with Alice Longbottom, studying for a test Professor Binns is giving tomorrow on the Great Goblin War of 1712.

How do I know this?

Let's just say I'm a good eavesdropper.

I rush through the Slytherin Common Room, trying to hide my face as much as possible. I know a few people who wouldn't take very kindly to James Potter invading their personal haven. Most of the Slytherins in my year are brutes; large, strong, and utterly brainless. Potter and his snarky comments have made him more enemies than he can count in the past years. My hand still shielding my face, I climb out of the Common Room, relieved. The lack of confrontations means I can get to Lily that much quicker.

I make my way out of the dungeons, my breath echoing off the stone walls. A small shaft of sunlight slides into the corridor from a small window. I peer outside, and can just make out Potter's form flying around the Quidditch pitch. His robes are streaming behind him as she streaks after something, most presumably the Snitch, though I can't see it from this distance. Satisfied, I turn around from the window and continue walking down the corridor. There will be no interruption from him today.

I make it to the Great Hall. It is dinnertime for those who haven't eaten by now, and tempting smells drift out of the doors. I identify something that smells like roast beef. Hogwarts has been trying to embrace the Christmas spirit early this year. It's only the middle of November, but the house elves are already cooking all sorts of festive foods, like parsnips, roast potatoes, and even stuffing every now and then. The teachers have been in a considerably good mood for the past week. I stride past the Great Hall, though my steps falter slightly. I haven't eaten since lunch. I curse myself for not eating before taking the potion. An embarrassing stomach growl in front of Lily would certainly not be preferred.

My feet carry me through another corridor, around a bend, then to another corridor. It is a long, bright hallways, and a suit of armor stands at the end, its grey metal shining eerily in the light pouring through the window. It nearly looks alive. I can almost see it shaking. I approach closer, examining the visor. Yes, I can just about swear that the thing is moving. I lift the visor cautiously and am met with perhaps the biggest surprise of my life.

"Hello, mate," Sirius Black says cheerfully.

I'm not sure what shocks me the most, seeing Sirius Black encased in a full suit of armor or listening to him call me mate. But then, realizing I'm still in the body of James Potter, I figure it will seem odd if I didn't make a reply to my "best friend."

"What in the world are you doing in there, Sirius?" I ask, trying to make my voice sound like Potter's. It seems to work, because a wide, lazy grin breaks over Sirius's face.

"Funny you should ask. Penny Riverton charmed me in here, actually."

"Let me guess," I say dryly. "You were trying to snog her?"

"Just a little," says Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Don't know why the stupid witch had to curse me in here though. Have you seen the size of her biceps? She probably could have knocked me out flat with just as little effort." His eyes grow larger, pleading. "Help me out of here? It's one of those darn irreversible curses that you can't remove yourself. I've been trying to get someone's attention for hours now."

It seems odd that I should want to help Sirius Black, but in this moment, I even feel a bit sorry for him. He seems like a good guy, really. If only he wouldn't ridicule me so often, we might even be on a first-name basis. For now, though, I chose to forget everything he's done to me, every torment he's ever sent in my direction. Maybe for once, I can forgive someone.

"Absolutely," I say, raising my wand. "What're friends for, right?"

He smiles. "You're the best, Jamesie."

I mutter the incantation under my breath. "Desunaperta."

All of a sudden, the front part of the armor slowly disappears, shimmering translucently. It's still there, divided into specks of sparkling light, but I can see Sirius now. He laughs jubilantly and hops out of his temporary prison.

"That, my friend," he says, giving me an approving look, "was sheer magic. Couldn't have done it better myself."

We both watch as the front of the armor slowly shimmers back into place. Within a few seconds, it is whole again, almost as if Sirius had never been there. "I don't remember learning that in Charms," he says thoughtfully. He turns to me. "Where'd you learn it?"

"Remember when you skipped class that one day, with that one girl?" I say, trying to sound as evasive as possible. "Flitwick taught it to us then."

"Oh yeah, that's right," he says brightly, remembering. "I was with Stacey Prewett that day. By God, she was a good kisser."

In truth, I had only guessed Sirius had skipped class. But it seemed that my assumptions were correct. It was very easy to read someone like him.

"Where're you headed?" he asks, eyeing me up appraisingly. "And is that eau de cologne I smell?"

If I were a blusher, I'd be turning bright red, but since I'm not, I just let out a little nervous cough. Sirius seems to interpret its meaning quite well.

"Oh," he says, smirking, "off to see the elusive Evans, are you?" He thumps me on the back. "Well, good luck, mate. And try not to knock her up, will you?" I splutter, and his smirk grows more pronounced. "It's a rough world out there, Jamesie," he says, feigning seriousness. "Put on your big boy pants and seize the moment. There'll probably never be another." With this sage advice, he begins walking away. "I'm going to go eat me some roast beef," he calls over his shoulder. "See you later!" He gives me a little wave, and rounds the corner.

I shake my head. He's so... immature? Crazy? Reckless? I don't even know the right word to describe him. He's just Sirius, really, and no word in all the languages of the world would fit him perfectly.

I continue walking through the corridor and turn into the hallway that leads to the library. I check my watch. 5:08. I still have 52 minutes. Nevertheless, I increase my pace. In a moment, the library door is right in front of me. I hesitate for a moment, then turn the handle. The door swings open, and I step inside.

The first person I see is Madam Pince. She scowls at me disapprovingly. It's obvious that James Potter is not her favorite student. Still frowning, she points in Lily's direction and goes back to shelving books. I painfully realize that even she knows about Lily and James's ongoing relationship. That is not a good thing. If Madam Pince, bookwormiest of bookworms, knows about their affection for each other, it is practically a given that everyone else in the school does too.

Mustering up every last ounce of courage I have, I walk over to the table where Lily and Alice are sitting. Lily is hunched over in her seat, her eyes half-closed in apparent frustration. She is massaging her forehead with one hand and rifling pages with another. "How in the world," she mutters quietly to herself, "did Gangledork defeat the Last Renegade of Goblin troops?" It is a quiet question, addressed to the air. With a dainty sigh, she throws her quill down on a scribbled-over piece of parchment. "You know what, Alice, I'm just about done with this. It's incredibly frustrating. No book seems to have an answer. My patience is wearing thin."

But Alice has seen me. She nudges Lily with her elbow, a sparkle in her eye. "I think your patience might just thicken a little," she tells her friend. "James is here."

The surprise on Lily's face lights up every one of her pretty features. She spins around in her chair and the smile she gives me… well, let's just say she looks like an angel. "James," she says happily.

No, not James! I want to scream. Severus! It's me, Severus!

But I manage a tight smile back at her. "How's it going, Lils?"

"Fine," she says, then looks back at the stack of books piled on the table in front of her. She winces inwardly. "Well, actually not fine," she confesses.

"Need a hug?" I say warmly.

She rises slowly from her chair and melts into my arms. "Yes," she whispers into my shoulder. "I do think I need a hug." I hold her for a few seconds, remembering. She used to do this almost every day at the beginning of this year, every time she came back from a run-in with Potter, crying. She'd sob into my shirt, telling me how much she hated him, absolutely hated him, and I'd hold her, and I'd cry with her, not just because I felt sorry for her, but because I felt I was losing her every single time they caught glances in the hallways, every time they had a conversation after class. She was, in essence, my life, and I hated to see him stealing her away from me, even for seconds. But now, holding her, it seemed like those days were back again, and nothing had ever happened between us.

"Hphh," mumbles Alice, "I – uh – I better go, eh, check out a book or something." She scurries away, and I inwardly thank her for being considerate enough to leave Lily and me alone.

The embrace continues for a few more minutes, then we both break away, though reluctantly. Lily takes my hand in hers and sighs. "You always know how to make me feel better, don't you, James?"

I try to respond, but I can't find the right words. Maybe James Potter knows how to make Lily happy, but Severus Snape does not, he certainly does not. He's been making her sad ever since the day he let that godforsaken "m" word slip though his lips. Instead of answering, I just squeeze her hand, trying to convey all my shame and repentance in one touch. If I could go back to that day, I would change it. I would change it a million times over.

A small frown creeps over Lily's face as she realizes something. "I thought you had Quidditch practice today?" she says, puzzled. "Did they cancel it?"

"Nah, the team just decided to go skive off today," I say with ease. "I heard they're going to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers." She stares at me in open-mouthed shock, and I grin. "Just kidding, Lils. I'm the one who skived off, actually. Benson said he could handle the team for today. I just… I really wanted to see you."

There's a look of passion and adoration in her eyes that I haven't seen there before. "James Potter," she says strictly, though there's an underlying tone of love in her voice, "you are such a truant."

"Yes, I'm just quite the wrongdoer, aren't I?" I say absently, dragging her by the hand until we're in a more secluded area, wedged between two bookcases.

"What are we doing?" she whispers quietly, staring at me. Ideas jump into my head, but I shove them down. I'm not going to ruin the moment, I'm going to let her decide what she wants and what she doesn't want. And so when she stares harder, an unspoken question in her eyes, I open my mouth.

"Anything we want to," I reply. "Anything at all."

All of a sudden, we're kissing, and it's the most amazing thing I've done it my life, because it's better than I've ever imagined it, a thousand times better, a billion times sweeter. A moan escapes her lips and she stumbles back against the bookcase. She wraps her arms around my neck and the kiss deepens. Waves of passion are crashing over the both of us, electricity is crackling in the air, and I can barely recall a time in my life when I've ever felt as alive. Our tongues dance in each other's mouths, twisting and twirling to a song of love. "Lily," I'm gasping heavily. "Oh, my sweet, beautiful Lily…"She groans and crushes herself against me, entwining our souls in a moment of perfection. We kiss for a few moments longer, the blood burning thick and hot through our veins, before we separate, heaving for air.

"That was… awesome," she finishes raggedly, her fingers brushing my hair out of my face.

I agree vehemently. "You're a wonderful kisser, Lils."

"As are you, James. As are you." She quirks an eyebrow. "Since when did you become so good at snogging? You've never quite lived up to expectations in the past."

I shrug easily, though on the inside I'm jumping for joy. "Maybe because today, I realized just how much I loved you."

She slips into my arms, fits perfectly there. "I love you too, James."

I kiss the top of her head, a pang of sorrow resounding deep inside my heart, completely erasing the joy that had just been there a moment ago. She said James. She'd hadn't said Severus. Maybe I had been hoping too much for a miracle, wishing that somehow she would have been able to recognize me, see past the outer shell everyone else saw as James, but in this instant, I realize that she can't, and she never will. She loves James, not me, and nothing I can ever do is going to change that.

I reach inside my robes and draw out my wand.

"James – James, what are you – "

"Shhh," I say softly, placing a finger on her lips. "It's going to be okay, Lily."

There is a flash of fear in her eyes for a second, but only for a second, before I whisper, "Obliviate." Almost instantly, her eyes go blank, and her head lolls to the side, a white, empty canvas. My throat chokes up, but I don't lower my wand. "You – you won't remember any of this when you go back to talk to Alice about what happened," I say, fighting to keep the emotion out of my voice. "All you will remember is that you and James talked, and that… that you fell in love with him even more. You want to be with him now, and you… you realize that you'll never love anyone else but him. You will finally understand that you were meant to be together, and that Severus Snape," my voice almost froze, "was never anything more than just a friend to you. You'll be happy, Lily. James makes you happy. And I… I want that for you." I lower my wand, my hand shaking, and she snaps out of her daze.

She stumbles to the side, clutching the bookshelf for support. "What – what just happened, James?" she whispers.

"Nothing you'll ever need to remember," I respond emotionlessly. I walk away, ignoring her calls after me. It's better this way. It's better that she doesn't remember our conversation, our kiss. It would only make things harder on her if she knew.

I wipe away the suspicious wetness gathering in the corner of my eyes as I leave the library, cursing myself for being so feeble as to let tears escape me. I shouldn't be crying, I should be rejoicing. After all, I've given Lily everything she's ever wanted, everything she would never have if she were with me. Still, that selfish part of my heart is moaning, wishing I hadn't done it.

And all of a sudden, I stumble. Frowning, I look down to see that I have shrunk two inches, and that my feet are growing slightly smaller. I reach up to touch my hair, and notice that it has almost gone back to its normal length. I am Severus Snape once again. The thought fills me with dread. Those blasted tears prickling at my eyes once again, I continue down the corridor, shoving my hands into my pockets. Being James Potter had been so much easier than being me.

As I round the corner, someone shoves into me.

"Watch where you've going, Snivellus," Sirius Black says rudely, sneering at me. His breath smells like roast beef. "You'd think those greased-up follicles would have some kind of radar on them, but I guess not."

I bite my lip and keep walking.

"That's right, Snapey-poo. Get out of here," he shouts loudly after me. "Do us all a favor and go drown yourself in the Black Lake, will you?"

I ignore his suggestion, though it takes every ounce of my self-restraint to keep myself from going back and punching my "friend" square in the jaw. His quiet snickers fade as I walk away, the tears falling faster now. Unloved by Lily, hated by Sirius… the world seems against me.

I walk all the way back to the Slytherin Common Room in a sort of haze.

Thompson, a black-haired fourth-year, looks up when I enter. "Hey, Snape," he says, surprised. "My friends and I were going down to the lawns to hex some first-years." At my blank look, he explains. "They were acting like snobs to us at dinner tonight. Tried to take the last of the cranberry sauce, if you'll believe that. Crazy, right? We decided that we were going to get them back." He scrutinizes me. "Want to come? We could use your help."

I shake my head mutely, and he shrugs, then rushes out of the room, off to his mischief.

As for me, I trudge up the stairs to my dormitory. The green and silver-clad room is empty; my roommates are all either off at dinner or spending time with their friends. I flop onto my four-poster, not even bothering to take my clothes off.

I lie awake for hours, even when everyone else comes back into the room, but while they fall asleep, I remain in a state of insomnia, a Slytherin boy in Gryffindor robes.

And I have the heaviest heart in the world.

a/n. If you enjoyed this, please leave a review. You have no idea how much it means to an old, decrepit author when someone reviews her work.
It puts a smile on her face.
Everytime.
And I shall now stop talking in third-person(:

Kisses,
Sianatra;)