Short fic about Lilly, her thoughts on a certain character. Bit patchy, not the best I've written. But its got a fluffy ending, so I like it. I would just like to apologise in advance for how short this is. Remember, reviews are always appreciated, however short and not very detailed they may be.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Lilly, James, or most importantly because he's my favourite character now Severus Snape.

Three Ways

"Why do you even hang around with him any more? Its not like anyone else likes him."

"He's actually really nice when you get to know him. He's been my best friend for years, so I guess I just understand him better."

The same questions, the same arguments, repeated over and over to all those people who just failed to see it, failed to see the truth behind their friendship. Sometimes even Lilly wondered about it, in the confines of her dormitory, after all her friends had fallen into their dreams. The truth was, she really did care about him, more than she would let on to anyone else. With him she had shared many precious memories. It had been him who had comforted her after her sister refused to speak to her. It had been he who had held her hand as she waited desperately for word of her father as he lay on his deathbed. In general, it had been he who had stuck by her through it all, even when her so called other friends deserted her. For that reason she loved him.

Five years later

"I want to invite him to Harry's Christening."

That one statement, that was all it took to gain a look of disgust from her new husband. How dare she suggest that they invite that filth, that death eater, into their midst's at such a happy time. It would just serve to bring up more memories, memories that weren't really needed. After all, Lilly had put him behind her, and she should stick to that decision. It never even crossed the mind of the young James Potter that she needed this, that maybe in her heart a piece of her would always care for him. Her husband never knew she had written to him, first when she got married, and then, later, when she found out she was expecting her baby. She never told James that she had received a reply either, and that in both replies he had seemed nothing more than delighted for her, overjoyed that she had at last found happiness, though he still felt that James was bad for her. She understood, then, but sometime too late, that he had always loved her, like she had loved him. She loved him then more than ever, for his happiness for her, when she expected no more or less than anger.

She wished, deep in her heart, that she had chosen the other man, that she had stuck by he who had always stuck by her. But she never acted on it.

Eighteen years later

I had always watched him, from right above, always kept an eye on him. I knew he always loved me, and I loved him too. My husband knew this, could see this. He knew I loved him, knew my heart was split three ways. He knew that it was split without favourites, that my heart belonged to three people evenly, and that each of them was worth more to me than the world. He knew that at the centre of all this love came my son, my Harry, who had chosen death to save his friends and so lived. He knew without asking that I was going to the other man, the other of my loves, when he joined me. I had experienced over twenty years with James, and now it was time for me to show my love to the other man, my first love, and the one who I had missed most over all the years apart.

He wouldn't look at me at first, looked away, ashamed, wouldn't meet my eyes. I walked up to him, wrapped my arms around him, and slowly, slowly, his arms came around me too. I closed my eyes and held him close, and felt the tears from his tightly closed eyes soak my shoulder. I knew he was feeling the same thing from me. But it didn't matter, because we were together at last, together as we should have always been.

"I missed you so much Lilly." he whispered.

"Shush." I replied. "Don't talk Sev, I've waited for you for over 20 years too long."