A/N: I wrote this for my good friend Kelly (lostinthepsychward) on Tumblr. It is quite obviously based on her url. I haven't written anything in a very long time so this is sort of celebrating my return to the fanfic world. Certainly not my best work but I'm just glad to get back to writing again. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Jo Rowling. She is fantastic.


She found herself staring at his profile for the better part of McGonagall's instructions. Physically, he hadn't changed that much, hair still unruly, glasses still perched at the tip of his nose, grin still lopsided, but there was something else. She felt like something was off. Ever since the prefects' meeting on the train. He hadn't teased her for rushing in a little too late. He had just nodded at her and continued leading the introductions, ever the diligent Head Boy, strange as that may seem. He spoke so passionately. It was oddly impressive. Even more oddly, he hadn't engaged her in any ridiculous public arguments. Beyond small talk and discussing head duties, he hadn't really spoken to her at all. It was sort of infuriating.

Her eyes widened in a spark of realization. Maybe it was her. Maybe she was different. Maybe she was just now realizing…

She was unable to further ponder this thought, though, because McGonagall had just called out her name. "Lily Evans and James Potter. First row, middle desk."

No. Lily's head snapped up before Potter could realize she had been staring. McGonagall was sitting down again; she had exhausted her list. Glancing around the room, Lily saw that everyone had started to rise from their seats. Considering recent revelations, Lily was fairly rooted to her spot—until another student noisily dropped their books on her desk.

Eyes low to the ground, Lily ambled to the front of the room. How could she get out of this? She could beg. She could claim to be a ghost; the girl known as Lily Evans died years ago; she's just a figment of your imagination. Or maybe McGonagall would be willing to exchange monetary benefits for Lily's mental sanity. Hogwarts professors probably weren't paid too handsomely, though neither was Lily.

Instead, in a split-second decision, she chose the tactic she had used to get out of Petunia's 14th birthday party. Pretending to have an upset stomach wouldn't be too difficult considering the circumstances.

Clutching her stomach dramatically, Lily wobbled straight to the front of the room bypassing her newly assigned desk.

"Professor McGonagall, I'm not feeling too well," Lily groaned softly.

McGonagall merely raised her eyebrows, casting a dubious glance at Lily's performance. She flicked her wrist to Lily's desk. "I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Evans, but I think you can handle the rest of this lesson."

Having already expected McGonagall to be generally unhelpful in this situation, Lily was prepared.

Stumbling to the rubbish bin at the side of McGonagall's desk, Lily grasped the sides and heaved herself over it, groaning with a resolve only the most practiced actor or most desperate girl could muster.

Flustered, McGonagall lay a hand on Lily's arm to stand her upright and agreed that she did look rather awful.

"Mr. Potter, could you please escort Miss Evans to the hospital wing?"

Swiveling out of McGonagall's loose grasp, Lily hastily assured her that would be unnecessary. Already out of his seat and wearing a puzzled expression, James hovered over the scene.

"Don't worry about me—wouldn't want to interrupt the lesson—education and all that," she stuttered awkwardly. James lowered himself into his seat with a slight frown. Lily shrugged her bag over her shoulder and quickly moved toward the exit, still clutching her stomach. McGonagall might have stopped her, but Lily was already nearly out of the room.

Collapsing onto a hospital cot, Lily announced she was "incredibly ill" to a baffled Madame Pomfrey. When asked to elaborate, Lily evaded the question with groans and sighs. Physically ill, emotionally ill, mentally ill, weren't they all the same? Fortunately, Madame Pomfrey let her alone for the time being to attend to more pressing patients. Lily noticed Remus was lying on a cot on the other side of the room. Poor Remus, he seemed to have a perpetually dreadful immune system.

About a quarter to an hour later, Madame Pomfrey rounded on Lily again. "If you don't have a valid reason for being here, I will not hesitate to evict you from this bed—or worse, to contract you with a deadly disease," she threatened.

Calling her obvious bluff, Lily insisted that she was still feeling very ill and so would need to lie down for just a little bit longer. Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes at this, but before she could respond, they were both interrupted by the entrance of none other but James Potter. Lily blushed and vainly attempted to hide beneath her sheets, but she had already been caught; he was staring right at her.

"Here to visit Mr. Lupin?" Madame Pomfrey asked James warmly. Much more warmly than she had received Lily. James turned away from Lily's tentative gaze and nodded. Madame Pomfrey smiled softly and bustled away to check on another student.

Lily stared at her hands and hoped James would go straight to Remus, but in her peripheral vision she saw he had moved toward her cot instead.

"So, how are you feeling?" James asked, standing at the foot of her bed.

Clearly unable to avoid the conversation, Lily looked up and answered, "Not horribly."

Apparently she was also compelled to inquire into Madame Pomfrey's oddly warm reception of James because she surprised even herself when she observed aloud, "You and Pomfrey seem to be on oddly good terms."

Momentarily thrown by the comment, James paused. "She takes care of one of our own. We owe her a lot," he answered carefully. "Believe me, you're in good hands."

Lily was surprised by his sincerity. He was surprising her a lot lately. Or maybe she was just surprising herself. Fifth year was a long time ago. They were both very different people. But how different? Different enough to warrant this feeling? And what was that feeling?

"Lily?" James asked, breaking her contemplative trance.

She blushed again. "Sorry, I guess I was lost in the psych ward for a bit there."

"Huh?" James scratched his head at the expression. "Is that a Muggle thing?"

"No, just something my dad always used to say," she reminisced with a smile. "Whenever we were lost in thought, he would tease us. He likened us to lost patients in a psych ward, the craziest of the crazies. We Evans' are sort of a neurotic bunch," she joked.

James chuckled softly. "Ahh, I see." Then, reluctantly, "Used to say, as in past tense?"

"Oh, no. No, he's not—," she quickly assured him, though she understood why he had asked. Considering her Muggle-born status, her parents were obvious targets. "They're okay. I just haven't heard him say that in a while. You know, not home that much," she shrugged. At least, not when Petunia was there.

"Glad to hear," James replied with a sincere smile. "And you know," he paused, "you deserve to be here. He-Who-Mu—Voldemort, he's wrong. You deserve to be here just as much as me or anyone else, probably more."

She was surprised by his certainty and again by his sincerity. He believed in her, even when her own sister couldn't do the same.

"Thanks," she responded, just as sincerely.

James smiled warmly. Strange how this conversation differed from their heated arguments only two years before. In the silence that followed, James ruffled his hair nervously. Some things never change. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," James offered, finally.

Lily had almost forgotten about her near panic attack. Her cheeks reddened at the thought and she hastily unraveled herself from the bed's cocoon of sheets. "Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better, actually."

"Are you heading back to Gryffindor Tower?" James inquired.

"Oh, yeah, I am," she confirmed. "But didn't you come here to see Remus?"

Now, James' cheeks reddened ever so slightly. Glancing at Remus' cot, James saw his friend was sleeping or at least pretending to sleep. "Looks like he's asleep. I'll come back later with the rest of our mates. And anyhow I wouldn't want you getting lost in the psych ward or whatever on the way there."

Lily chuckled at that. "You definitely didn't use that correctly, but nice attempt."

She was still a little lost when it came to James Potter. They had both changed, but maybe change was good.