Author's Note: I'm not really a fan of the title. So I might change it. I'm also open to suggestions. Also, you should love it for the last line alone. But I think you will anyway without me having to tell you. That being said, enjoy.

He was foolish to think that a summer apart might force them together again. Then again, he was foolish to think a lot of things about Lily Evans that weren't true. For instance, the rumor that she was dating James Potter was no more than a rumor. He refused to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes…. No, he wouldn't believe it yet….

He saw her there, at the train station, on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Just from behind, mostly, because when she turned her head and caught sight of him, she quickly looked away—but not, he noticed, before giving him an ice-cold glare, a glare that still pierced his heart now, years later, whenever he thought of it.

Almost immediately upon arriving he boarded the train, found a particularly lonely-looking compartment by himself, and buried his nose in a book. It was rather difficult to concentrate on reading, however, seeing as every time he noticed someone passing he glanced up from the edge of the book to see who it was, watching them, following them with his eyes. He watched as several of his friends—if you could even call them that, they weren't really friends with anybody—walked right by and settled in another compartment nearby; none of them looked at him, none of them even noticed he was there.

And then she passed by. And she saw him, and she stopped. Everyone else walked by, everyone else ignored him, pretended he wasn't there, or just didn't see him at all, but she—she, of all people, stopped. And she looked at him.

Their eyes met. Subconsciously he felt the book slip out of his hands and fall to the floor, and he leaned forward in his seat, as if she were going to say something to him, and he was there, ready to listen, just like always, just like always…

A tiny half-smile played around her lips, and her hand was resting on the door, and for a second he believed it, he believed that she was coming back to him, that she still cared about him, that nothing had changed—a muffled voice from outside the compartment made its way to his ears, but he ignored it, because all that mattered was Lily, standing in front of him, Lily, ready to forgive him, and he almost didn't care when the four young boys approached her, almost didn't care when the one with the messy jet-black hair started talking to her, because her hand was resting on the door and all it took was one tiny push—she broke away from his gaze, but her hand was still there, her hand was still on the door—and then the boy said something, and she laughed, and her hand was slipping away, and he remembered the coldness in her eyes on the platform, and she followed them down the corridor, and in one fell sweep of her long, dark red hair, she was gone.

It was as if his heart was breaking all over again.

In a sort of daze he picked up his book and absently began flipping through the pages. He knew what was happening behind his eyes, but he would not let it; crying was for those too weak to hide their emotions. And he would not be weak, he would not degrade himself to that level. It didn't matter that he was alone, it didn't matter that no one would see him—he would not let the tears fall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and it took all that he had inside him to clear his mind, to push everything away.

Finally his mind felt blank, and he filled himself with the emptiness that always prevailed in her leaving. He would not think of her. He would not think of anything except the words before him.

He turned to page 394 and began reading about Patronus charms. The book was finished long before the school came into view.

AN: Told you.

More to come. Reviews are nice, and I hardly get any, sooo. This is a three-shot, so I'll post the next two chapters... sometime later. :P