Back in her head girl's dormitory, Lily's body gave a shiver as she sat alone on her bed. The entire year, gone. Journals and diaries had always seemed self indulgent and pointless, but what Lily wouldn't have given for one now. Second to a personally written account of the last year, maybe a friend would have been nice. Had she made any in the last year? Doubtful, as she hadn't made any in the six proceeding it. If she did have a friend, she'd find out soon, Lily suspected. Someone would come to her dorm, give her a warm hello, and tell her how good it was she was back. Great, now delusions came with memory loss. But still, she'd sit a while longer.

In all likelihood she'd have made Head Girl anyway, but she didn't doubt that the privacy of her own dormitory made it easier to fight Voldemort. Fight Voldemort. Even the words sounded ridiculous. When had she become an activist anyway? And in what capacity could she actually fight? Was she in charge of a letter writing campaign? Or did she assist as a student researcher? No, Dumbledore had said a spy. An actual spy. As if a reminder, she looked down at her arm. A fresh scar. Maybe she hadn't made a very good spy. The facts were adding up and it seemed someone had figured her out. Or maybe they knew all along about her identity but she had been double-crossed. Bond, James Bond.

Lily crossed the length of her room, the aged hardwood floors creaking under her feet, to the full length mirror by the bathroom, scanning her body for any other physical differences. The longer hair had been the first danger signal to Lily upon her awakening but now she quite liked it. Same eyes, same features but could she detect she was older? Maybe her face was less round, her cheekbones more prominent.

She had already rifled through her belongings. That was what she did first when she was finally allowed to leave the hospital wing. Twenty-three days of sleeping in that room served her hospital quota for the next fifty years. She hoped to find clues in her room and personal belongings as to the life she couldn't remember. The new medi-witch had advised her that her memory may return on its own when she was ready to remember – or not. Books she did not remember reading were highlighted with notes in her handwriting scribbled into the margins. There were a few new items in her closet she did not recognize, and interestingly, some very beautiful lingerie. In her desk drawer were a few letters from her parents which made her smile in delight, and one from Petunia which did not. The search through her belongings took her several hours. She wanted to be thorough, to miss nothing. Upon finding some new jewelry she squealed in delight. The ruby ring was especially beautiful.

It was three A.M. Now would be a safe time to go to the kitchens. She had been hungry for a while but had not felt up to the challenge of facing other students. One student, particularly. Isolation was far greater when you have to be alone in a room of people. Slipping on her shoes, (a cute, new-to-her pair), Lily ventured out. Her Head Girl dormitory was an undetectable offshoot from the Gryffindor tower and she carefully crossed the Gryffindor common room without incident.

Entering the kitchen, Lily was immediately attacked with a hug from Rox, the Hogwart's head chef and meal planner.

"Lily, darling, we'd heard the news you were awake and wondered when you'd come to visit," Rox motioned to herself and a few of the elves who weren't sleeping. "You've come alone tonight? Or is it already morning? Three AM is always tricky that way."

"Yeah, I'd have come sooner, but I'm not ready to chance running into people," Lily replied automatically.

"Ah, that's the Lily I know! Such a recluse. Never was such a beautiful, kind girl so wary of people."

"If I remember correctly people deserve to be approached with caution." Again, the mark on her arm served her with a reminder of her point and she fidgeted with her long sleeve shirt, making sure it completely hit the scar which traveled all the way to her wrist.

"Well, what'll it be tonight? We've got leftovers. And by the way, have you spoken with Sirius, yet?"

Lily was taken aback. Sirius as in Sirius Black? How many other Sirius' could there be? So many questions crossed her mind but she was not about to ask Rox; Lily was not keen on spreading the knowledge that she couldn't remember why she would have spoken with the mischievous boy.

"Uh, no, not yet," she replied as vaguely as possible.

"Well you'll want to do that soon. He needs to know what we'd discussed."

"Right, definitely."

"So you're looking mighty thin these days, aren't you? Let's fix that."

Rox took Lily by the hand and dragged her to the tables. Rox had always been like an older sister to the red haired girl, since being hired to the prestigious position of Hogwarts chef back in Lily's second year. But at this moment, as she fed Lily, looked after her safe keeping, and shared stories of the elves' antics, she felt more like a maternal presence. And for that, lost, confused Lily was grateful. She had an ally at school. She wasn't completely alone.

By five AM when Lily got back to her bedroom, she was appreciative the next day would be a Saturday. She would get some sleep, wake up the next morning, and get to work because Lily was not the kind of girl to sit around helplessly. She would find out what happened to her.

With this resolve, Lily clung tightly to her pillow and allowed sleep to overtake her.

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Lily awoke the next morning to a light tapping on her door. As though someone was knocking, but doing it so softly as if hoping to not actually alert the other person to their presence.

Lily was disoriented. Waking from her night's sleep felt like being awaken from the dead. She'd had no dreams and presently had forgot about any memory loss. Literally rolling out of bed, she tugged her pink nightie down to cover her hips and opened her door with sleep-hooded eyes.

She didn't know who she had expected, but certainly it wasn't James Potter.

Suddenly, Lily was awake. And keenly aware of her bare shoulders and legs.

"Hi," he said softly.

Certainly a part of Lily knew that normal societal behaviors demanded a response to such a greeting, but that part of her brain seemed to be off. All she could do was stare at the boy in front of her.

He was beautiful.

Lily had always found James Potter beautiful. He was intelligent, and there was a spark about him. A magnetism that drew people to him. For this reason, he'd always been surrounded, but not by Lily. James already had enough people in his life. But this was different. The way he looked at her - it made her feel… something. She wasn't sure what. Maybe as though she was special. As though in some way, at that moment, she was the only person that mattered. Her heart started to beat faster and she looked up at him with her large green eyes, still unable to speak.

"Is it true? You don't remember anything?"

This brought Lily back to reality. She didn't know this boy. She didn't owe James Potter an explanation. They weren't friends. Why was he prying? Her memory was none of his business. And she was not in any mood to be treated as though she had a handicap.

"What did you come for?" she retaliated.

"Binns asked me to drop this off with you." He handed her an outline. A history of magic from years 847 to 912. Great.

Upon Lily's silence James continued, "Ok, well that's all."

Urgently, Lily grabbed for his hand, stopping him from leaving. "Wait," she said, her hand in his, "Dumbledore says you found me, the night I was attacked."

James nodded, looking serious.

"Thanks," she said. Maybe she shouldn't have been so brusque.

Again, James just nodded.

"What – what happened? It's true, I don't remember. I don't remember any of it."

James' face turned cold, unemotional at this. "I don't know. I was patrolling and I found you unconscious, up on the seventh floor and took you to the hospital wing. I wish I could shed more light, but that's all I know."

Lily dropped his hand. "Maybe you saved my life."

As James looked down at her, the girl in her nightie with crimson hair, pale skin, and soft pink lips, he could do nothing but walk away.

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Author's notes:

Again if the fragments bother you, let me know

It's not my intention to make Lily into a giant bitch. I'm just writing her as a very private character

Gentle readers, do you have any interest in a continuation of this story? Please do take a moment to review if you think so, or I might not continue for another four years. Kidding, kidding, there'll be an update soon.