:)

Sleep

"We can probably end our patrol now," came his voice in the dark.

"I suppose you're right."

"Is Lily Evans too tired to even argue the right thing and stay up all night protecting Hogwarts from the impending doom?"

She sighed. "Yes."

The students had gathered in the Great Hall after the attack of that afternoon. Hogwarts had not been harmed, but many families at home had been. Dumbledore gave each of the houses the chance to sleep as one united school, hoping it would comfort the mourning and those who were younger and scared.

It was pushing three in the morning, and the Head students were no longer required to stand watch over the not-so-sleeping students. Lily and James trudged over the (snoring) bodies of their classmates, careful not to tread on fingers, and found the spot they had reserved earlier with their friends. They had considerably less room then they had originally planned, as Sirius ("Bless him," James would say later.) had rolled over into half of James's space.

"Aren't you tired?" Lily asked James as they settled into the sleeping bags Dumbledore had conjured earlier.

"Yes, but we do this a lot," he replied, nodding towards the three boys to his right.

"Oh yes. I suppose you would get used to this." She closed her eyes.

"Yes, I suppose we would."

He smiled at her, chuckling as her eyes flickered open and closed, not sure if the conversation was over yet. Her face was barely a foot from his in the crowded Hall. They both lay on their sides, facing each other.

"How was your day?" Lily asked.

James looked at her: her eyes were still shut. He smiled.

"Okay. I got an owl from my mum listing all the people they had known, but none of them I knew too well to miss." He turned onto his back. "So I guess I'm okay in that respect."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Lily. I didn't really know them."

"No-well I am sorry for that-but I was going to apologize in advance for falling asleep on this conversation," she said with a small laugh, her eyes still closed.

"Oh," James said, smiling too. "Well, goodnight, Evans."

"Goodnight, James."

But it wasn't really goodnight.

Both of them had trouble falling asleep; Lily because for some odd reason James being so close to her made her sort of... excited; James because of Lily's super close proximity, and because of all the near by snorers (a surprisingly low number of his dorm mates snored at all).

Lily had her arms bent in front of her face, and her legs were bent as if ready to be folded into someone. She breathed deeply and her features looked almost... happy.

James turned on his side to watch her, and he felt his knees brush hers, sleeping bags apart. He moved his feet so his were touching hers, too.

Their bodies were inching ever closer. They hadn't ever truly been this close. They had hugged and held hands before, but only as friends. This was far more intimate, even in its innocence. He could feel her stirring in her sleep, and his heart beat faster when her arms would stretch out, then come back to where they had been pressed against his-sometimes stronger than before, as if she were as conscious as he was and she wanted to be closer.

Every move he made she was conscious of, even if she was not conscious herself. When ever he shifted, she would as well, always keeping the space between them constant. Lily dreamed of holding James's hand, as a comfort, as a romantic gesture, as just what they both needed. When she remembered their closeness the next morning, she was sad he hadn't put his arm around her, and pulled her close. She did like him. She knew he loved her, and she wanted to encourage that, but James was so new to her that she didn't know how.

At one point in the night, Lily rolled over, so her back was to his front. James felt the draft of refreshed air around him as she re-positioned herself. It felt like they were cuddling, but there were a few inches in between them at every point. Inches between them that were wrought in expectation and potential and pure emotion. Inches apart at every point except their feet, which still touched.

That simple touch was his only thought for the rest of the sad week of mourning.

A/N: This is so based on my real life, but that's okay.

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