Chapter One
Lily was lounging in her dorm, listening to the rain pound against the thick stone walls and delicate glass windows, taking a well-deserved study break. Damn O.W.L.'s. She couldn't concentrate anyway. She couldn't stop thinking about him! Those eyes... those beautiful blue eyes, like the sea after a storm. He was so level-headed and quiet, quite the opposite of the three other prats he hung around with. Especially Potter. Even in her head, she managed to make the name sound like she spat it out resentfully. She dwelled for a moment on the (extremely handsome) big-headed Seeker. And that Sirius. Undeniably the best-looking and most charming troublemaker in the school, she only wished he wouldn't take his godforsaken temper out on people so often. Little Peter was so insignificant and whiny that he was hardly worth her time. This was not her normal attitude, but she justified it by thinking that he deserved it since he drooled over Potter and his stupid Snitch.
Her thoughts drifted back to Remus. Poor, darling Remus. He had so little. He had next to no belief in himself and nobody cared for him, which just made her love him more. And his condition. Being a clever girl, she had, of course, figured out his condition. Her blood ran cold at the thought of those heavenly blue eyes being drowned out by amber, pupils becoming mere slits... She shuddered. But she loved him. She did.
She gave a small sigh, getting off her four-poster and stepping in front of the full-length mirror. Two electrically green eyes stared back at her, staring critically at the deep red hair that fell gracefully to her shoulders, contrasted nicely by the floaty, emerald-colored peasant top and faded blue jeans. She uttered a little thanks that it was Saturday, as rainy as it was. She was tiring of her classes.
Stepping gingerly into her Gryffindor slippers, she stepped out of the room and down the stairs into the loud and crowded common room. James and Sirius were, of course, right in the center of attention before the fire, though Potter was obviously enjoying the spotlight more. She rolled her eyes at him when he called loudly, "All right, Evans?" as he caught the Snitch that he had been allowing to flit around the common room and pocketed it. Something in the back of her mind told her that this was decent of him, seeing as he knew it bothered her. She pushed it out of her mind and went to sit on the footstool of Remus's armchair over next to the corner window. He pulled his sad blue eyes away from the latest thick volume borrowed from the library, and they met hers. She caught her breath and then said in a calming voice, "All right, Remus?"
He gave her a rare smile and said weakly, "I suppose. What about you, Lily? Something's troubling you--"
"Don't worry about me," she cut in, her eyes twinkling in a sad sort of way. Remus had enough problems of his own without listening to hers.
But the way her eyes had flicked back toward Potter and Black gave her away. His gaze followed hers, coming to rest on his two best friends, now avidly telling jokes again amongst gales of laughter.
"It's those two again, isn't it?" he inquired wearily, starting to get to his feet. Lily thought she would burst with pity. He sounded so tired.
"Oh... erm... No! Remus, of course not..." she said, trying to sound taken aback. The look on his face, that piercing gaze of his, stopped her mid-sentence. "Well, yes," she admitted guiltily, "But it's not your problem, Remus, just—just relax and forget it, ok?"
He had started to get up, but at her plea he sunk back down again, closing his eyes. Almost instinctively, she reached out and brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen, rather handsomely, across his weary eyes. He took her hand and lowered it, but strangely, did not release it.
"I'm so tired, Lil... so tired..." she smiled at his pet name for her as he trailed off. She closed the book now resting unattended on his lap and scooted closer to him. His hand was warm and comforting, as pale as it was. Perhaps it was too warm. She knew better than to send him to Madam Pomfrey... not much she could do for him, she knew. Instead, she gripped his hand hard, as if trying to force some her own strength into him.
They sat like that for another hour or so, talking seldom... just listening to the torrential rain pound at the windows, the laughter of the crowd, the beating of their hearts... after a while Lily too grew tired, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Just before she drifted off to sleep, she found herself wishing she could stay this way forever. And she could have sworn he was thinking the same thing.