AN: This is a scenario that I had originally planned on putting in 'Becoming' before it became entirely based in the fifth year and I had no where to fit it. It's a short piece (or so I am planning) from the Marauder-era seventh year. Still, the potential for angst was too great it would have eaten me alive if I didn't write it at some point.

As much as I love her dynamic with Snape, I think Lily and James might just be my favorite canon couple. I wish we got to see more of his development from "first-class turd" into "self-sacrificing hero".

Hmmm…. I think I'll log that away under "future story ideas".

This could be considered angst or fluff, depending upon your shipping preference. :D

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters included therein. Don't die of shock.

Fade To Black

One-Shot

Point Blank Fuchelli

"You know, they wouldn't keep going off if you didn't keep putting them in your pocket."

"Well, I have to keep them somewhere."

"They make you look lumpy. Like you have cancer of the trousers."

"Perhaps I do. Perhaps I am on my last leg – my last pant leg, if you will – and patrolling the corridors with you was my dying wish. Tomorrow will dawn on the horizon and they will find me, limp and cold in my bed. Yet there will be a smile on my face for I was granted the good fortune of spending an entire evening in the sole company of Lily Evans, who, despite being beautiful, could do nothing but talk of dung bombs and being a good role model."

There was a great roll of the eyes that James Potter was so familiar with now, after seven years, but a tiny grin still twitched at her mouth.

"They'll all talk of how badly you felt that you didn't make more of this, our last night together. It'll be with pity that they'll remember you, Evans. Do you want that?"

"If I am to be remembered with pity, it'll be because I lost my mind at some point during seventh year and started dating a boy who carried 17 dung bombs in the backseat of his trousers and once transfigured his professor's desk into a 200 pound wheel of cheese and then melted it."

James sniffed indignantly. "You can not possibly hold that against me. McGonagall said herself she was impressed."

"Yes, but that was before you realized you couldn't turn it back. The entire fourth floor smelled like brie for a week."

James motioned for her to stop and the both halted where they were. He raised his wand and his eyes moved over the ceiling and then to the corridor on their right but saw nothing. He relaxed a bit but continued to stare over his shoulder as he turned back to her.

"Sorry. Could have sworn I heard something."

"Probably just Peeves."

"Don't think so; too quiet. He usually makes as much noise as humanly possible." James stopped and considered this. "Well, not humanly possible."

"We just have this last corridor for the third floor anyway. Flitwick and Peck took the fifth, right? So we just have to take the fourth and we'll be done." Lily said, already starting down the hallway by herself before James could follow.

"How kind of you to wait, Evans." James said loudly as he jogged after her. "It's so nice to find an old-fashioned girl who needs an escort."

"You weren't made Head Boy so you could be my escort, Potter." She retorted as he caught up. "I'm quite capable of walking on my own, thanks."

"What a crushing blow to my fragile male ego." He feigned a deep depression and pressed a palm to his chest, his face falling. Lily sped up again and even though he couldn't see her, there was a playful expression dancing over her freckled features.

"I guess it's a good thing for your delicate countenance that there are some things that I can't do on my own."

Severus Snape preferred the castle of Hogwarts just as it appeared at that precise moment: empty. No annoying first years bouncing naively off the walls, no snogging couples, no prying teachers itching to take points away. It was quiet; so quiet that even on the thick carpet he could hear his muffled footsteps as he made his way out of the large library doors and into the fourth floor corridor.

He'd been spending the past five or six nights straight working on NEWT level essays. During their last term, the professors that allowed you to skive off classes in previous years suddenly cracked down and the ones that were strict to begin with… well, they were imperturbable in the seventh year.

Not that it necessarily mattered, not to Severus. As he shouldered his bag, heavy with multiple texts, he had to give a wry grin. The climate was changing in the wizarding world and he was positioning himself to be in the very thick of it.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts mirrored that of the wizarding community at large aptly. Things had gotten steadily more ill at ease and rules had gotten stricter. Being out after dark was frowned upon indoors and absolutely forbidden out of doors. Several students had been pulled from classes and there were frequent rumors of deaths or injuries or mysterious disappearances that seemed to increase daily. The teachers were doing their best to make life at the school normal but that was impossible when the tension in the air was palpable. It didn't need to be talked about – it could be felt.

But the reaction was different in Slytherin. As a collective house they were ambivalent toward the frightening developments at best. It seemed that the danger was focused on those of non-magical descent and that certainly didn't include Slytherins. But among the indifferent collective there was a smaller nucleus of students who delighted in each leap made by the Cause. Some, like Avery and Rosier, had family members who were already directly involved in the transformation taking place. Others, like Severus, heard about it second hand from newspapers or word-of-mouth and then got a "clarification" from the better-connected students. But they all shared a common excitement about the changes that were poised to occur.

And once they did, Severus was certain that it wouldn't matter how many 'O's' he got on his NEWTs or whether he'd received any awards. His grades were above average anyway but he had extensive knowledge in subjects that they didn't teach at Hogwarts and experience was going to count for a hell of a lot more to the people coming in charge.

Severus continued down the hall for a good ten minutes without passing a soul. For all he could tell, the castle might as well have been deserted. He hadn't even managed to cross paths with one of the ghosts or even Peeves (which could be considered a small miracle), thank God.

After a ways he turned a corner; the windows to his left were dark but by the light of the half moon he could just make out the Quidditch pitch. He paused for a moment, caught in a barely-there memory that had nothing to do with the sight that lay beyond the panes of glass. It was of a redhead splayed out on the grass beneath a tree, shoes kicked off next to her bag and a book underneath her nose. She remained motionless for a split-second, as if in a muggle photograph, before glancing up and laughing. And although he couldn't be seen, there was a scrawny, pale boy next to her who had just said something (that, damn it, he could never remember no matter how hard he tried) that caused her amusement.

And just like that the almost-memory faded but Severus continued to stare out the polished glass, transfixed. It was a scene he played frequently in the silent cinema of his mind. Try as he might he couldn't get it to stop; it was on a constant loop. The Girl never left that shady spot underneath the leaves of the tree; never put her shoes back on; never even turned a page. She was young – perhaps 13 or 14 – but exceptionally pretty with vivid hair that looked perpetually ablaze. But it was her eyes that captured his attention each time he relived this; in the moment they would turn their attention to him there was an openness that he was so unfamiliar with and an acceptance he found himself hungry for. Those eyes made him ache with a longing he didn't understand and consequently tried desperately to escape.

Forcing his gaze back towards the hallway, Severus put The Girl from his mind again. Dwelling on things that couldn't be changed was foolishness. She had been right – they'd made their own paths long ago. It had been stupid of him to think they could find a way to merge them – even infrequently. No, now he was journeying towards greatness, he could feel it. And she… well, her steps had suddenly joined up with another's. If ever Severus had thought they might find their way back to one another he certainly believed differently now.

And yet without even realizing it, the road Severus was on inexplicably made it possible to watch her from afar.

"D'you know, I'm not sure I've ever encountered anything in the entire seven months we've been required to patrol." James said out of the blue. They had just stepped off the stairs and were met with another yawning hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. A few of the paintings' subjects bowed or tipped their hats politely as the two passed the adorned walls. Lily, despite her normal resolve, slipped into a leisurely pace and let her guard down a bit both with the nightly inspection and with James. Even though the former had far more potential for danger considering the circumstances, she sometimes felt as if the latter required her to have her wits about her far more often.

"So?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Just an observation." He paused before adding, "Although I do wonder if these nightly strolls aren't more for our benefit than the school's. I mean, really, if a Death Eater happened to jump out of lavatory there, I might be able to turn his shoes into cheese, but I doubt that would trip him up much."

Lily was thoughtful. "It might if he rather disliked cheese."

"Or rather liked it, I suppose. It might distract a Death Eater that had an unhealthy attraction to dairy."

"Not highly likely that the one Death Eater that happened to be using the loo would also happen to be overly fond of cheese."

"Hm. No, I guess not."

"I see your point though." Lily turned serious again. "About our patrols, I mean. But I don't think Dumbledore actually believes we'll stumble across anything dangerous. I just think that telling everyone that the Head Boy and Girl will be on duty sounds better than 'well, you're on your own'."

"You certainly take this job seriously for someone who seems certain you won't stumble upon a corpse or a severed toe or something."

"James, are you telling me that you don't take the responsibility of being Head Boy seriously?" Lily suddenly grew indignant, throwing her hands on her hips and stepping in front of him. They both stopped. James threw up his hands in mock surrender, already slightly whipped by the fiery young woman now staring him down. They'd only been an official "couple" for a few months but he was smart enough to realize that if he wanted to extend that to a few more months he'd have to pick his battles.

"It's not that I don't take it seriously, Lil, you know that." He shrugged as her shoulders drooped a bit. "But it's a bit pretentious, don't you think? Pretending to be the model student of maturity, the pillar underneath the student body, etc., etc… I'm not fooling anyone, am I?"

"No, you really aren't. No one thinks you're the model student of maturity, James Potter." She answered wryly. He grinned.

"I can only imagine the whispers heard from the staff room after the appointment was made. Slughorn, surely, wanted Avery – I swear he's the one who sent him that annoying Valentine last year, I'd bet ten galleons on it – and I can only imagine the mouthful McGonagall had to say. She had fewer gray hairs before summer, didn't she?"

"That's not fair – she thinks very highly of you." Lily broke in, suddenly defensive. The intense look of shock James shot her made her turn pink though and she looked down.

"She does? Since when?"

"Since always." Lily sighed. "I overheard her talking to Flitwick about your performance in class while I was grading. Truthfully, I think she forgot I was even there or else I don't think she would have said it…"

"What did she say?" James interjected, suddenly eager as a puppy. "What were her exact words?"

"Oh, honestly James," she shook her head, but was too softened by his innocent need for validation to chastise him. "I don't remember exactly… something about how your recent top marks in the NEWT class proved what she had suspected about you all along."

Beaming, James stood still, reveling in the words for a moment. Lily allowed him the proper amount of time his pride needed before adding her own twist.

"This was, of course, before The Cheese Desk incident."

He deflated immediately, looking crestfallen. "Well, thank you for ruining my moment."

Lily grinned mischievously and took a step closer. "You certainly care a lot about what Minerva McGonagall thinks about your 'performance.' Should I be jealous?"

There was a fluttering near the bottom of James' ribcage that was becoming all too familiar to him in recent months. Thick waves of red hair and emerald eyes seemed to follow him everywhere, even into his dreams, and twisted the inside of his body into knots at random moments. Even when she was nowhere to be seen, Lily Evans managed to affect every mechanical function he possessed until he was nothing but a jerking, twitching formation of limbs and hair and glasses. How he managed to stay in the game when it was obvious she held all the cards was a mystery to him. And now they were standing in a dim hallway, very much alone, and she was staring at him up through thick lashes, a tiny smirk sliding onto half her lips. There was a great imbalance in the Universe, James had to believe, that allowed him the great fortune of these circumstances. Perhaps he'd wake up and find out he'd lost an eyebrow tomorrow to make up for it. Frankly, he figured that was a small price to pay.

"Lily Evans, in my book, never has a reason to be jealous of any woman." He whispered wrapping a long arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Ever."

He slid his free hand to her neck and then threaded his eager fingers through her hair before parting her lips with his own. Lily, who was defiant and rock-steady in her stubbornness, submitted surprisingly easily and matched his enthusiasm almost immediately. Wand still clutched tightly in her fist, she looped a finger through the belt of his trousers and snaked her other arm around his neck.

As the embrace itself grew more and more heated, the two participants stumbled backwards a few meters until Lily's back met the cool brick wall. James, using it as leverage, hoisted her up few centimeters, just enough to get his mouth under her chin. She leaned back as much as she could given her position, and offered up the fragile skin of her throat. His lips were clumsy and wet but they knew what they wanted; he broke away and nibbled on her earlobe. He couldn't see her, but he heard the throaty exhale and identified it as a pleased laugh. James grinned, pressing his lips into the folds of skin where her ear met her jaw.

"See? I take this job dead seriously."

He hadn't been sure what the sound was at first. It was at least 50 meters further down the corridor and he could barely see that far. Severus was rarely afraid, at least not of the same things as the simpletons he shared classes with. The prospect of a depraved soul crawling about the castle was not going to keep him rooted in place, let alone running in the opposite direction. So it was with little hesitation but a heightened awareness that he continued, his eyes focused on the spot ahead of him where he imagined the muffled clamor originated.

Years prior, there was one thing that always scared Severus, though – enough to make his blood run cold. And as his footsteps fell closer, close enough for his eyes to adjust to the weak light of the lanterns and discern the figures now just a few meters south of him, he found himself face to face with it.

The tender embrace was just ending and the two teenagers emerged from one side of a suit of armor, looking flushed and rather pleased with themselves. It could have been anyone really, but given the lateness of the hour and the fact that Severus would have known her anywhere, there was no doubt in his mind who it was.

The roar of his heart belied the emotions he'd managed to bury two years ago.

Their backs turned, hands entwined, they didn't see the face of the pale boy lose what little color it had as he watched them leave. Had Severus ever dared to aspire for what that boy now had? He honestly couldn't remember. His brain could recall countless times where he watched her with a hollow longing, wanting nothing more than to just reach out to see if she felt as amazing as she looked. There was a clawing, gnawing need to listen to her, see her, understand her. She possessed an uncommon radiance that his cynical brain couldn't wrap around, but his hopeful heart still yearned to touch.

And yet… he never thought about telling her. Years of familiarity grew to an intense and frustrating peak. This was not friendship, not for him. But he never named it for what it was. Maybe he didn't know; maybe he was afraid of what the reality entailed. Surely it would require a vulnerability that he not only loathed but never fully mastered.

The boy, annoying, self-righteous and conceited as he may have been, knew the importance of being honest. He made his intentions known despite the inevitable humiliation. He put up with teasing from his friends and from Severus and from all of Hogwarts. An absolute dupe, he bent over backwards to impress her time and time again. Severus mocked him openly, knocked it as a fool's errand and promised him he'd never succeed.

And still… the boy had won. And all of Severus' quiet and private desires had gone – and would go – unspoken. The anxious craving to speak to her and hear her voice is still what got him up in the morning, but it was buried much deeper and it was much more abstract. He accepted that it was over and he walked the path he'd chosen, alone.

Two hundred meters away and still hand-in-hand, she stopped to give him the briefest of kisses.

Every once in awhile – it wasn't often and he never let it linger – there were fleeting moments like this one where he wished to God that he were someone else.

3 years prior

Outside the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"There you are."

Severus sauntered up the shallow hill and broke into a very slight jog when he caught sight of her 30 meters ahead underneath the shade of a lumbering oak.

"Not quite in the mood for the crowd today." She murmured after giving him an easy smile and then turned back to her book. "Those matches can go on forever sometimes."

"If Potter can help it, they do." He sat down beside her and then loosened his tie before leaning back on his palms into the itchy summer grass. "The longer everyone keeps watch with bated breath the bigger his head swells."

Lily yawned and pulled her shoes off so that her stocking feet were exposed and she flopped over onto her stomach, pulling her book under her chin. His face grew crimson at the level of comfort she showed around him and for a moment he contemplated laying down next to her and what it would feel like to be that close. Instead, though, he shuffled a few centimeters nearer but remained upright.

"Soon they'll be using his over-inflated head for the quaffle." She retorted, rolling her eyes. "I rather like the game but I can't stomach his grandstanding."

"You're one of the few."

"Well then, the standards for this school are not what I expected."

Listening to Lily abuse James Potter was one of Severus' favorite past-times and he was really very glad he chanced the detour to find her now. He'd much rather have her time, all alone, than watch Quidditch any day.

"He seems to have captivated half the student body with his idiocy. Apparently all it takes to be popular is the ability to ride a broom and throw a ball." The abhorrence dripped from his voice but it was laced with something not unlike envy and Lily was too sharp not to pick up on that. She turned to him for a brief moment and raised a keen eyebrow.

"Jealous are we, Sev?" She teased, giving him a sly wink. He knew she was just taking the mickey out, but it hit a bit too close to home and he shot her a revolted look.

"Jealous? Of Potter?" He scowled openly. Potter may have fooled the masses into thinking he was something greater than he really was, but Severus knew better. "He hasn't a thing I want." He sat in silent contemplation, staring at the blue expanse of sky behind the horizon before adding something, almost as an after thought. "If I ever wish to be James Potter, Lily, you'll know I'm completely hopeless and better off dead."

AN: My editor gave the image of Lily and Severus ditching Quidditch to hang out and I really like it. I figure she'd be kind of like Hermione regarding the sport – more into it simply because of the House-affiliation and less because of the technicalities of the game. I'll probably have at least one scene with them lazing about together whilst the rest of the school supports the teams in 'Becoming' at some point….

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