The Tempest

Disclaimer – None of these characters that I drool over belong to me. All credits go to the mighty J.K Rowling. Please contact her for giving your praises. And if you can, let me know how to do it, too.

A/N – I've re-written this story, with a minor change in plot. Once I went back and read this one-shot that I'd written in my pre-pubescent days, cringing was all I could manage to do when going through the over-zealous, over-fluffy writing. So here it is. Take two. With not as much tweaking as I would have liked, but it will have to do.

"I've had enough! I'm leaving!" She screamed, her voice angry, broken, and so so tired. With a final—it was final—glare at her so-called sister, she turned on her heel, stomping down the hall, her vision blurred by tears.

"No one ever asked you to stay here, you witch! Go kill yourself, for all I care!" Her sister's shrill voice followed her the entire way, compelling her to take a deep breath and not run back to apologize. No, she wouldn't…she would never again apologize.

Lily barely winced when she heard the sound of breaking China follow her, a proof of her sister's wrath. With long, purposeful strides, she grabbed her coat from the cupboard and walked out into the pouring rain, making sure to slam the door as hard as she could behind her.

It was getting difficult. Simply worse day by day. Hell, even worse by the second. Petunia was behaving outright hostile now.

Had her sister really meant what she'd said? Lily wondered fleetingly. Then, almost the next second, she decided that no, it simply wasn't worth the headache anymore. She did not care.

Wrapping her coat tightly around herself, Lily started walking. Somewhere. Anywhere. Did it matter? Would anyone care if she died? Petunia would be glad, at least. And maybe she herself would be happy, as well. Happy to be where her parents were.

Lily sighed, and it was only when she felt the saltiness on her tongue that she realized that it wasn't the rain.

She was crying, again.

The realization hit her hard. Shit shit shit! She squeezed her eyes shut defiantly. She wasn't supposed to cry. Not after all this time. But it was too late. The revelation had her hugging herself, crying even more.

No no no. Stop stop stop.

Oh god, it was so frustrating! She felt the water droplets trickling down her face, washing away the tears and sticking to her auburn strands.

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, she wanted to cut it. Cut her hair.

The idea—for some reason or another—was extremely appealing. Liberating.

Lily whipped her head around, her breathing harsh and desperate. With an aim in mind now, she was suddenly quite aware of her surroundings and of the fact that she was very, very lost. The rain was falling hard and angry on the cobblestones, soaking her to the bones.

She ran her fingers through her wet hair, strangely contemplative—how much would she cut? Would she leave it shoulder-length? Or maybe shorter?

Would it matter? Did anything matter?

Lily suddenly gasped in surprise, tripping over an uneven cobblestone as she stumbled forward.

"Whoa! Steady!" A warm, deep voice greeted her ears as she felt someone grab her upper arms. "Are you okay?" he asked, and she looked up to find the most alluring hazel eyes staring down at her worriedly.

"Y-yes." Her teeth were chattering. She hadn't realized that she was cold. "Yes, thank you. Sorry. I-I just wasn't l-looking where—um, th-thank you." She made to push past him, a light blush blooming on her cheeks. The man was rather good-looking. And at the moment she was, well, grimy at best.

"Hey!" He called out, and Lily couldn't help but turn around. "You sure you're fine?" he asked again, his brows furrowed.

"Yes." Lily tried to smile, hoping that it didn't look as fake as it felt. "Yes, p-positive." She nodded, turning around to leave again. Suddenly, however, she stopped, bit her lip, and looked back. He was really tall, lean, wore wire-rimmed glasses that sat on a long, defined nose, and his dark hair was sticking to his forehead sloppily. He honestly was very attractive. Beautiful, even.

She blushed again. He was still watching her.

He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, and Lily caught a distinct glint of amusement in his eyes.

Would it hurt to try? She wondered. He didn't seem like a bad guy.

"Um, are you—uh, are you f-free right now?" Lily asked hopefully.

He finally smirked, and if she hadn't been in such a mood, maybe—maybe—she would have swooned.

"Not to be a party-pooper or anything, but when you asked if I was free, I didn't think this was what you had in mind." He said wryly, giving her an amused smile.

"Uh, well," She blinked guiltily, glancing at the entrance of the salon in anticipation. "I was lost and I really wanted to get a haircut, so…"

"Why?" he asked, looking genuinely confused. "You have beautiful hair."

"Oh." She flushed crimson, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket—the one he had insisted she wear lest she die of Pneumonia. Fuck, he was charming. "Thank you. But…I just need a haircut. Some personal reasons."

"Ah, personal."

"Think of it as a type of therapy, if you will." She shrugged, smiling softly.

"Hmm." He nodded. Then immediately, "So when was the breakup?"

"What?!" Lily's voice was incredulous, her eyes large. "What breakup?"

"Oh," He said, looking surprised. And then a little bashful. She stupidly found it endearing. "Sorry, I just thought—you were crying. Alone. And then you wanted a haircut. So I just assumed—um, sorry. I guess I was obviously wrong." He gave her a crooked grin.

"Oh, Merlin, no." Lily laughed, shaking her head as she tried to ignore the delightful somersault her stomach gave at his smile. It felt nice to laugh again. She couldn't really recall the last time she done so genuinely. "I don't think I'll ever cut my hair because of a breakup! That's absolutely—um, is something wrong?" she halted.

He was staring at her with his mouth slightly agape, head tilted to the side curiously. Lily consciously touched her face with her hand, feeling incredibly uncomfortable under his gaze. After what felt like years, he finally spoke.

"You're a witch!" He whispered confidently, his hazel eyes large, surprised and excited.

"What?" Lily breathed. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. Fuck fuck fuck! "What are you talking about?"

"You are!" he was grinning madly now, causing the butterflies in her stomach all kinds of trouble. "You just said 'Merlin'. You have to be!"

"Well…" Lily said. Her arms hung lamely at her sides, as unsure as the rest of her. What could she say? What was one supposed to do in such a situation? Could she obliviate him? Did she have the heart to? No. Hell, why was this man grinning so much anyway?

"Oh, don't worry." He nodded sagely, as if just now realizing that yes, she did have a reason to worry, and that no, accusing a random stranger of being a witch was not normal. "I'm a wizard, too. James Potter." He held out his hand, smiling broadly.

"Oh," Lily said, feeling immensely stupid suddenly. The relief that coursed through her veins at his answer was overpowering though, and she smiled back easily. It would have been severely heartbreaking if she'd had to obliviate him. "Nice to meet you. I'm Lily Evans."

"Pleasure is all mine." He winked, and she felt her heart thud loudly, tellingly. "So, did you drag me all the way here just to stand outside the parlor, Lily?"

"Oh right! Uh…you want to come inside?" She asked uncertainly.

"Well, duh! Come on." He suddenly reached out and took her hand, casual as anything, leaving Lily blushing horrendously as he pushed open the glass doors to the parlor. If she hadn't caught his smug expression out of the corner of her eye, she would have thought that James was quite unaware of what he was doing to her.

Unfortunately for him, she had.

Stupid, adorable bastard.

"So, what do you think?" Lily asked, chomping on her lip apprehensively as she stood wringing her hands. Her hair was cropped up to her chin, a fringe framing her face as she looked up at James. His face was perfectly blank as he examined her, not giving anything away. He slowly moved forward and took a lock of her hair between his fingers.

Lily stopped breathing. He was too close.

"I love it." He said softly, staring at her. "It's sexy." He amended with a smirk, and Lily's face inevitably heated.

"Well," She cleared her throat, shifting from one foot to another. "Thank you. For everything." She said, feeling shy all of a sudden. Merlin, how much had she put this guy through? He deserved all the thanks in the world and some more.

Any other bloke would have either left her to her crazy whims, or taken advantage of her. And yet, here was James, strolling around the city with her and giving her compliments on her haircut as if he'd known her for years.

He was really quite sweet, and Lily gave him the most sincere smile she could muster for his efforts. A beautiful sort of warmth spread over her chest when he grinned back brilliantly.

"So, what do say to a date, Lily?"

His question was so abrupt, so unexpected that Lily's smile immediately gave way to shock, her mouth agape. "What?"

"A date." James repeated charmingly, looking amused at her reaction. She blushed for the hundredth time.

"You—you want to go on a date with me? While I look like this?" she asked, gesturing to her soaked clothes and the smudged mascara around her eyes

James was undeterred however. "Yeah, I think I do," He said, and firmly held her hand again, leading her out into the streets once more.

"Look, James, I don't—" Lily hesitated. "Look at me. I'm so dirty right now. And wet." She raised her eyebrows pointedly.

"So am I." He simply answered with a shrug, not even looking back as he tugged on her hand again.

"Yes, but—" she struggled to explain, sighing heavily. And then she blushed out of embarrassment, letting go of his hand, and finally forcing him to stop and turn back around. "You're—well, look at you! You look good even like this, and you know it. I'm sure you'll find a thousand other girls better than me to go on a date with you. And they wouldn't even be an utter mess to boot."

James released a long-suffering sigh then, and Lily felt, rather than saw, him move closer to her. And before she knew it, his fingers were tilting her chin up and his eyes were boring into her. The chocolate brown and the gold and the green all swirled together perfectly, and Lily went speechless at the absolute sincerity of his expression.

"You are possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," James said, "Wet, dirty clothes and all."

"I really doubt that," Lily whispered. "I'm not—"

"You are," James told her. And his tone—it was a tone that left no place for argument, as if he was so sure about what he was saying that it was a fact, and he could just disprove her by pulling out his phone and Googling it.

So Lily chuckled, her face flushed, feeling lighter than she had in months. "Alright," she nodded.

"I hope that was answer enough for you?" James teased, waiting for her to nod again. Which she did happily. "Can we go, then? And maybe you can tell me about this 'breakup' of yours on the way." He held out his hand again.

And as Lily placed her hand in his, she realized that maybe—maybe—she was ready to swoon now.

A/N – Yes, that's it. I know it's short and definitely not my best, but well, that's what happens when the writer makes a sudden decision to pour out everything on paper. Hope it was not too dreadful. I would really really love for you guys to leave me reviews. No matter what you want to say. I just had to do it—it was Jily overload for me. Thanks for reading. Buckets of love to everyone.

Claudia.