Not yet, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Not yet by larissa

And it starts, sometime around midnight.

Life isn't fair.

That's the first sober thought that passes the man's mind in quite some time.

And he stands there, a drink in his hand, his hazel eyes obscured by the haze of intoxication. His glasses are as lopsided as always and he doesn't even try to correct them, too dizzy to notice. He knows, though, that it's past midnight, because he can hear one of his friends trying to tell the others that they should have gone home a long time ago.

James Potter knows Remus Lupin and Remus Lupin knows better than to try to get them out of a bar before it's too late to be night, too early to be morning.

The man empties his glass in one turn and signs for another.

It's been a bad day. Bad week.

Or at least that's when you lose yourself

for a minute or two.

He can't help but wonder what happened to him. He can't remember life being this hard, can't recognize where it all changed. Because it feels like one moment he had a future and, in the next...

Nothing.

Still, he knows that can't be right, because his friends are still there and his job offer is still up and the world still spins, but there is something missing. It has been missing for a while.

James groans, setting his head on top of the counter. He just wants to feel alive again. He wants to know that he has a purpose and that his purpose will get him somewhere. The man is sick of bars and women and too much damn money.

He needs to forget who he is because all that he is curbs what he wants to be.

As you stand, under the bar lights.

And the band plays some song

about forgetting yourself for a while.

The band across from him has started to play something.

It's messy but it has a good tone and the lyrics make his chest hurt. They talk about pain, tell him about solitude and trying to be things they are not.

It frightens him a bit that, in this drunk stupor, he seems so vulnerable to things that usually are so meaningless to him. There's something about the night, James decides, or about his drink that makes him want to go back to simpler times. When he actually believed things could turn out okay.

They can't.

They can't, because things haven't been okay for almost two years. He hasn't seen her for two years.

And the piano's this melancholy soundtrack to her smile.

It's hard to think above the music but it's harder to not think about her.

He had imagined so many conclusions to what they had ― what he'd thought they had ― that the unfinished detachment felt too hollow.

She had to know that she was more to him than just another girl. She had to know that he could have changed, would have changed if that was what she wanted from him.

Lily Evans was red and green and melancholic beats and shy smiles.

And that white dress she's wearing

you haven't seen her for a while.

And yes, white dresses.

It had been an unconscious movement but in the turn of his head, in the glance of his eyes around the room, he had found her.

Red, green and white.

James feels the buzz of the drinks and the trembling of the music but, above all, there is the anxiety of her, the longing to touch and the hurt of not being wanted.

It tastes too much like justice for him to curse because this has to be how the girls he's been with feel.

Descarted.

His head is against the counter again but not before another drink has gone down his throat. It burns more than never and he hopes it will help him feel better but the fire reminds him of her for it's her temper, her eyes and her hair.

The man actually curses, this time. He hates that it's so easy for him to break. He hates that he changed so much.

Because he knows that this new him is everything that his old him despised.

Weak, frustrated, alone.

And, then, when he moves his hand through his hair in a way he hasn't done in so long, it confuses him. James grunts, sick of how it all comes back to him in the moment she is back, irritated that she is temptation and, again, she is out of reach.

The movement seems to have alerted her of old habits too and his name sounds too sweet in her lips, his body shivering at the sound.

James straights himself slowly, hoping, but not believing, that she will think she got it wrong.

Lily, though, knows him too well. She knows his habits, his hair, the thin scar that traces the angle of his jaw.

But you know, that she's watching.

She's laughing, she's turning.

She's holding her tonic like a cross.

The room's suddenly spinning.

The man can sense her approach, he can feel the heat of her skin and it's as if everything around him gets brighter. She smiles and spins with the song before finally putting a hand on his shoulder, the other holding her glass as if it's her anchor. Lily's eyes are as green as they've always been and she seems not even a bit bothered by the sudden encounter.

James is glad that she looks so happy because he loves her.

And he hates himself for it.

She walks up and asks how you are.

So you can smell her perfume.

You can see her lying naked in your arms.

Talking to her is too much and he knows that he has drinked more in the last ten minutes than he's drinked the whole night, but he has always been very good at pretending to be fine and that's what he does as he listens to her stories and smiles at her amused expressions.

James can smell her citric perfume, the same from two years ago, and it's the one he bought her on Christmas. It makes his heart stop for a second, before he realizes she probably doesn't even remember it was him.

Why would she?

In spite of his good sense, he lets the perfume take him to lighter days, when there was them and nothing else, when things felt right. Memories toy with his mind as Lily toys with his love.

For some strange reason, it makes him feel whole again.

And so there's a change, in your emotions.

And all these memories come rushing

like feral waves to your mind.

Of the curl of your bodies,

like two perfect circles entwined.

However, there are other memories.

There are fights and tears and things shattered. There is the fact that they were too broken back then, maybe too broken even now, to actually be there for one another.

This knowledge doesn't help for she's everything he ever wanted and he is still the one to blame for his loss.

And, then, she wants to dance.

James is suddenly tense because he can tell where this will lead and he can't do this again. She can't be just another one of his women.

Because she is Lily Evans and his body stills itches for hers sometimes ― all the time ― at night.

He smirks despite of his pain and he knows he has hurt her too.

"I'm sorry."

It's been like that for as long as he can remember and it finally strucks him that this might as well be the reason why he is drinking, because all that he is can never be the same as what she wants, hopes, he will be. James shatters her too, makes her suffer for all the hearts she has broken. He can only bring her sadness.

Nevertheless, he is the only one that seems to notice it because everybody else just glares and wonders how can he be able to screw up so many second chances.

And you feel hopeless and homeless

and lost in the haze of the wine.

The man still drinks.

It will be a wonder if he is actually able to get home because not even his incredible talent to stay sober seems to stop him from knocking a bottle of vodka to the ground.

He says it's accidental and his talent for lying seems to be just fine because they believe him.

Or maybe he's just that drunk.

Still, she is not there anymore. No more warmth, no more glow. So it doesn't matter.

Nothing ever makes sense once she's gone, nothing ever has purpose, and James is, again, blind to why he does this, why he can't let himself have the oportunity of being happy.

He doesn't call her back, though, for it would happen again and it would be just one more of his claims to be drinking.

Then she leaves, with someone you don't know.

But she makes sure you saw her.

She looks right at you and bolts.

Then, Lily is leaving.

James doesn't have to look twice to know that she is not alone but he seems unable to take his eyes off of her.

The fact that she's looking at him too just tells him that he is right and they just don't fit but it does nothing to his temper, it doesn't make it hurt less.

He recognizes her smirk. It's his. It's that sadistic grimace that shows that he's doing something he doesn't want to do but does it anyway. Because it's what they need.

That last expression freezes him.

Again, it's all his fault. His methods, his words, his fears.

He fears this is the last time and this fear makes him want to run towards her and stop it, makes him want to confess his pains and doubts and love.

But he doesn't.

As she walks out the door,

your blood boiling

your stomach in ropes.

When she's gone, he just stands there.

James hadn't realized he'd stood up but it doesn't matter and he takes another sip of his drink.

He doesn't know what the drink is but he really doesn't care at this point.

Oh and when your friends say,

"What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The man feels cold and he knows he must look paler than ever, sick even. His lips tremble with all the things he wants to shout out to her. He keeps them, though, because his pain will keep him warm later.

Sirius Black is by his side in the next moment, barking out a laugh and chuckling a bottle of something green. The man winks at one of the waitresses and the woman giggles shyly. His friend looks drunk but he isn't, for Sirius has much more sense than both James and Peter.

Peter, who is lying on one of the tables on the corner, passed out after what has to have been a good night, since there's lipstick on his collar.

Remus Lupin is also there, rolling his clear brown eyes at Sirius and taking the bottle from his friend to take a sip. He's had a good night, as well, because he grins and there's a skipped button on his shirt.

It isn't until his best friends have sat down that they notice something is wrong.

"Mate, are you okay?"

Sirius' question comes with a scoff and the Potter knows he thinks James just got too wasted.

"Fuck off, Black."

This gets their attention because there aren't many things that could make James turn into an ass at the lightest of provocations.

"No, Prongs, really, what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

It's Remus' gentle tone and hand to his shoulder that almost breaks James but the man shakes himself and throws some money on the counter before running towards the door.

The rest of the marauders are with him in a matter of seconds and even Peter looks more alert.

Then you walk, under the streetlights.

And you're too drunk to notice,

that everyone is staring at you.

They don't ask again but are probably thinking of everything that could have gone wrong.

James doesn't say anything, though. He just walks around, kicking every object that appears in front of him, glaring at everyone.

His mind is hazy and he doesn't even notice the stares.

Because, really, all that he can think is that he wants her. He wants to be with her and to be able to stop screwing up.

So, without meaning to, he is making his way to her house.

His friends realize this almost too late and they stop him just as he's turning the corner of her street. James shouts and tries to wriggle out of their grasps but they are three and he's just too weak, too drunk to fight.

The man falls to the ground, breathing heavily.

Everything hurts; his head, his chest, his body. Still, his friends are there, trying to pull him back together so it can't be as bad as it feels like.

You just don't care what you look like,

the world is falling around you.

"I can't have her."

He says, punching the earth beneath him.

James wants to cry but no tears come and the ground injures his fists. He doesn't care. Nothing can be all right again, nothing can stop this hurting.

Sirius is pulling him up, yelling curses and words of anger that are his way of helping. At the same time, Remus has his hand on his arms, shaking James and trying to make him break out of this wreck. Peter says things in such a low tone that his friend can't even understand what they are but James knows he just has no idea of how to deal with this strange side of him.

They end up sitting on the pavement, too drunk and too tired to go home.

You just have to see her.

James knows it's wrong but he can't stop himself. His hazel eyes search the street for her, praying to a God he doesn't even believe in that she will come home, that she will be safe, that she will be alone, that they still have a chance.

He knows he should go.

It's dangerous to stay out at such a late ― early? ― hour. The war has finally caught up to them and he should know better than to indulge this silly desire because he's putting his friends on the line here.

Yet, he is selfish.

Peter has gone back to sleep and he smiles in it, muttering things that his friends can't understand. It makes Sirius laugh but it might be because the man brought the bottle of green beverage with him and has emptied it pretty much on his own.

Remus seems to be te only one with a bit of responsability, since he just leans against the side of a building and scans the street every now and then, a hand behind his back, probably attached to his wand.

James looks up at him, frustration and apologies in his eyes. The werewolf shrugs and smiles down at his friend in a gesture of kindness that makes James feel even worse.

Before he can say anything, though, there's a crack and the air around them flicks with energy. The men freeze, fortunately hidden in the low light.

On the other side of the street, Lily Evans appears; red hair, green eyes and white dress.

But there is someone else and he twirls her under the streetlight's shine.

Just as quickly as the couple came, they went away, running into her house in a mist of laughter and alcohol.

James gets up and the marauders are all by his side, again, aprehensive that he will break down.

He takes a deep breath and smiles sadly at his friends.

"I just had to see her."

He knew things wouldn't turn out alright, they hadn't in a while. It doesn't stop the pain.

You know that she'll break you in two.

They weren't supposed to be alright. Not yet.

Ok, this was a challenge from the Emotion & Songs Competition. I hope amortentiaaffair likes it. My emotion was longing and the song is Sometime after Midnight by Airborne. Though it was a challenge, I gotta say I enjoyed it very much because the song fits this couple in ways I couldn't have imagined. Angst James makes me sad but this darker side of their relationship was incredible to do because it's so different from how I usually portray them. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you.