She was gone; her memory was just as fleeting.


James remembered.

He fished around for a lonely cigarette at the bottom of his pockets. Finding one—half-smoked, but good enough—he lit the end hastily and stuck it between his lips. It wasn't relief. In fact, each drag felt more like sinking than anything else, but he couldn't stop himself now. That was, after all, how addiction worked. "Christ," he swore around the cigarette, tilting his head back to get a better look at the stars.

From where he was sitting—at the top of the Astronomy tower—he felt as if he could reach out and touch the tiny jewels strung up across the night sky. He laughed despite himself, feeling juvenile. James scratched the top of his head with his thumb and looked around. On any normal night, the Astronomy Tower was booked with desperate couples looking to get their rocks off.

Tonight, it was blissfully empty.

Tonight, James didn't want to think.

So, he watched the smoke curl out of his lips and tried to forget about everything. He wanted to forget the headlines and the pretty redhead and the girl that didn't return to Hogwarts this year. He rested his head upon the stone edifice of the observatory and watched the sky grow a dark, inky black. And he thought, then, that he enjoyed it up there. He welcomed the solitude.

But, the silence made it hard to forget. It was her. It was always her. He felt her in the walls, the corridors, even at the top of the Astronomy Tower—her presence lingered. Sometimes, James thought she existed at the very core of his being: snarling, screaming, red hair like a loud blaze. He couldn't forget her—never her. Even when she made it clear that that was precisely what she wanted, James couldn't help himself.

There was something about Lily Evans.

And, to be clear, James didn't pine. There was no heartache, no juvenile curiosity, no petty admiration. He felt, primarily, wonder. And confusion. For that was how she existed in his mind: Lily Evans remained an enthralling enigma, if ever there was one. And her red hair, her green eyes, her pale skin—each piece of her ate away at James like a nasty parasite. He was exhausted. He had spent far too much time thinking about Lily Evans, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stop.

James was obsessive. When his father took him out on a broom for the first time, he knew there was no going back. When he felt the subtle whir of a wand between his fingers, he knew there was no going back. And when Lily Evans flicked a tendril of brilliant red hair over her shoulder, her eyes filled with indignation, James knew that he was in trouble.

He finished off the cigarette and drove it into the flagstone floor with the heel of his shoe. Somewhere at the back of his mind, a nagging voice told him that he ought to have attended the welcoming feast. James ushered the thought away. How could he sit there and pretend that everything was normal?

He couldn't sit there, so close to her, and pretend like she didn't drive him absolutely mad.

He couldn't sit there and listen to the Headmaster drone out condolences.

He couldn't sit there and be treated like a child, once again.

James Potter was many things, but he was not a child. Not anymore. He ruffled his already untidy hair and stood, peering out across the Hogwarts grounds. He had the distinct urge to scream and yell until his voice disappeared for good. Maybe then he'd stop getting himself into trouble. His feet carried him to the edge, and he teetered there for a good while, eyes trained on the grassy hillside far below. "Planning on taking a dive, are we?"

"Nah," he answered, not missing a beat.

Sirius took the spot adjacent to him, resting his forearms on the railing. Remus stood on his opposite side and Peter beside him. "If you keep standing up here all alone, Prongs, people'll suspect you're up to something, y'know," said Sirius, a smile in his voice. He tossed a scuffed flask to James, who took a long swig from it before passing it to his left, where Remus stood. James laughed, finally, his throat feeling warm.

"Who says I'm not,"

Peter grinned. "There's our James."

James frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been a bloody git, eh?" None of the boys answered this. "It's just this place—" He gestured around, "—it gets to me."

"It's definitely different," Remus remarked, finally taking a long drink from the flask. He choked on the aftertaste, shoving the canister into Peter's chest. "Hell, Padfoot, what've you got in that?" The boy in question shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"A mix,"

James apparently found that very funny, as he doubled over in laughter. "Mum'll kill you if she sees you've looted her cabinet," he gasped between bouts of laughter. Sirius grinned. Soon, the four boys fell silent, Peter passing the flask back to Sirius, who considered it for a long while. "She hates me," James murmured, sinking down into a seated position.

"Evans?" said Sirius. "Well, she can't hate you any more than that slimy git…"

He thought about that for a while and tried to feel reassured. It didn't work; it never did. They listened to the beat of wings overhead, the owls having emerged from the Owlery. James withdrew a piece of parchment from his trousers and thrust it towards Remus. "Take a look at this," he grunted, tapping the yellowed scrap against his friend's forearm. He took it, sparing James a confused look, and unfolded it. The edges were folded over and there were more than a few stains splattered across the page, but the writing on it remained intact.

"This is…"

"The report on Priscilla Goodwin," supplied James, taking the flask from Sirius and lifting it to his lips. "I nicked it from the Ministry when I visited my mum there over the summer," he said, then took a swift drink. "A pretty piece of information, that is there." Remus blinked down at it, scanning the words carefully. He glanced periodically towards James, who was transfixed on an unknown spot in the far distance. "What'd Dumbledore have to say, by the way?"

Sirius snorted. "Not much."

"I reckon they won't tell 'em anything," said Peter, who looked wearily down at the flask he'd been passed. "My mum says you can't trust the Ministry, anyway."

Remus looked up from the parchment. "I think you ought to get rid of this, Prongs," he said, holding the paper just out of his friends grasp. "If they ever find out that you stole this...do you know what'd happen to you and your family? Do you know what you having this looks like?" James stood, then, and snatched the paper back from Remus. He pocketed it quickly and gave his friend a severe look.

"I know," he snapped, "but I can't just...I want to look into things, a bit."

"Prongs—"

Sirius gave Remus a look that told him it was better to drop it. "I'll be careful," James said quietly. "I know what I'm getting into." They all remained quiet and looked up into the sky as if the stars held all of the answers to their many questions. "After all," continued James with a grin, "it's not like I haven't gotten myself into a couple of messes before."

Sirius and Peter laughed. Remus did, too, because even though they were sixteen, moments like these had become rare. And James knew what he was doing, Remus thought. James always knew what he was doing.

The four of them stayed there until they were drunk on mixed alcohol, youth, and a feeling that this was both the beginning and the end.

How right they were.

/ / /

Lily didn't want to remember.

As the last students escaped up to their dormitories, Lily nestled deeper into the plush couch before the fire. With a book propped up against her knee, her hair gathered into a ponytail, and the lull of the WNN in the background, Lily felt almost as if things were back to normal. She felt almost as if, for the very first time, she could pretend that nothing had gone wrong last June.

And then James Potter walked in.

His glasses were askew and his hair rumpled and his eyes a little bloodshot. And she realized that she would never be able to pretend that that day had never happened. Lily felt the knot in her stomach tighten painfully. She blinked at the boy, who seemed blissfully unaware of her presence. Lily sunk deeper into her spot on the couch. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if James Potter would bypass her presence entirely.

But, then, his eyes swept across the room and landed on Lily. She blinked up at him from her place on the couch but didn't say a word. Neither did James, for a long while. He stared at her a great deal, as if he wasn't quite sure that she was actually there, and then slumped into an armchair on the opposite side of the room.

"Priscilla Goodwin is still out there," he said after several agonizing minutes.

Whatever Lily had expected James to say, it wasn't that.

She felt a tear slip down her cheek. How was she supposed to be awful to him when he wasn't being awful to her? She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell until her throat burned and the knot in her stomach uncoiled. But, James Potter was sitting there, too intoxicated to see straight, and talking to her about a girl that had gone missing months ago. And she couldn't—even though she so desperately wanted to—be angry with him.

Because, she realized, it wasn't his fault.

Lily choked on her sobs, but James was too drunk to notice. She had spent months hating him. She had anticipated the moment that they'd come face-to-face. She had been patient because she thought, after so many months of loathing herself and everything around her, that telling off James Potter would clear things up for her.

But, here he was, and she could do no such thing.

Because, she realized in desperate succession: Severus Snape hadn't betrayed her because of James Potter. Severus Snape had betrayed her because that's what men like him do. Severus Snape had betrayed her because he had toed the line between good and evil for years, and the latter had finally won him over. Severus Snape had betrayed her because, to him, long-held ideals were more important than his best friend of nearly seven years.

Severus Snape had betrayed her.

Not James Potter.

"D'you hate me, Evans?"

Lily blinked. She wiped tears from her cheeks hastily and gave a great sniffle. For a while, she just looked at James. His eyes were out of focus. She knew he was too drunk to remember any of this. So, she took a deep breath and felt the knot loosen, ever so slightly. Lily rose from her seat and crossed the room, to the girls' dormitory staircase. She paused there and looked back at James, red hair falling out of the tie and into her eyes.

"No," she said. And she knew it was true.

/ / /

James Potter didn't remember how he had gotten back to the common room.

But, when he awoke the next morning, he had an ache in his neck, a terrible taste on his tongue, and his clothes smelled of cigarette smoke. "Shit," he grunted and rose from the chair, his legs feeling weak. He ascended the boy's dormitory staircase on shaky legs and locked himself in the bathroom adjacent to his dormitory.

His head throbbed dully, as if someone had taken a hammer and banged a few screws into the side of his skull. James let the shower run until his reflection was entirely obscured by steam. The water was scalding, but he didn't bother turning it down. It felt good—cleansing, he thought. When he stepped out, he knew he wasn't ready to face the day, but he returned to his dormitory and pulled on a fresh uniform despite that. His roommates hadn't fared much better, however, and only Remus seemed to have maintained any semblance of restraint the night before.

"Prongs, I can't," groaned Sirius. "I can't do class today."

Peter poked his head out from beneath his covers. "This is your fault," he muttered ruefully in Sirius' direction, before disappearing once more. Remus fastened his tie a little tighter around his neck, checking himself in the mirror. James had noticed the appearance of a few more scars at the base of his friend's neck, but…

"Shall we?" Remus stared at him expectantly.

James nodded, "Yes." He clapped Sirius on the shoulder on his way out. He didn't expect to see either Sirius or Peter until the very end of breakfast, anyway. "Moony, do you reckon that McGonagall noticed that I wasn't at the feast last night?"

"I believe that most people noticed that you weren't there last night," he replied. James didn't deny the possibility. He didn't consider himself to be outright popular so much so as "well-known." As it happened, getting in trouble enough made your name relatively commonplace around Hogwarts. It was by these means that many had begun to affectionately refer to the four Gryffindor boys as, "The Marauders." It was, in truth, a nickname that Professor McGonagall herself had coined.

Not that she'd ever admit to it, of course.

James hopped down the last couple of steps into the common room. It was, at this point, rather empty. There weren't very many early-risers in Gryffindor. He followed Remus to the portrait hole, which swung open at their approach, to reveal the thin frame of one Lily Evans. She smiled at Remus and then directed her attention to James, who she considered for a brief moment. Then:

"Good morning, Potter,"

Whatever James had expected Lily to say, it wasn't that.

He spluttered; Remus seemed equally as surprised. "Good morning, Evans," he replied evenly, after a moment. Lily looked at James expectantly and he stared right back. Finally, aggravated, she pushed him to the side and walked past. "Oh," James said in her wake.

The two boys stepped through the portrait hole, into the corridor. "What was that?"

"Hell if I know,"

They wandered down to the Great Hall, finding it nearly empty at such an early hour—it was, after all, only half past six in the morning. Remus took a seat across from James, who settled upon little more than a piece of buttered toast. "Did something happen last night?" asked Remus, ladling porridge into the bowl before him. James glanced up at the Head table, where Professor Dumbledore already sat. He nodded to James, eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles.

"No," he answered, having strained his memory. "I don't believe so." James glanced around the slowly filling room. At Ravenclaw table, students poured over books—quite unnecessary, James thought, considering classes had yet to begin. Meanwhile, at Hufflepuff, a young witch was looking around the room in absolute wonder. At Slytherin…

James diverted his eyes. He didn't trust himself, really. He was distracted from his thoughts by the presence of someone beside him. Expecting to see Sirius, he was surprised to find himself staring into the alarmingly bright eyes of a blonde haired witch. She beamed at him. "Hello, James, m'boy," she greeted, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "How might my favorite Quidditch Captain be on this fine day?"

"Why are you here, Alice?" James said instead. She frowned.

"Why not?" Alice Fortescue—the name of this odd witch—spun in her seat, grabbing a slice of toast and slathering it with a copious serving of jam. Then, around bites of toast, she revealed, "I'm here on Ministry business, you see." She blew her bangs out of her eyes. "They've got me stationed here to protect you lot," said Alice, adding as an afterthought, "By that I mean all Hogwarts students, not you in particular. Don't think you're that special, Potter."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course."

The blonde propped her head up on her hand and looked between Remus and James. "Do you not believe me? Look back there. See, there's Frank Longbottom. He's here, too. A real bore, that one. But, quick on his feet, he is." Alice said all of this quite fast—Alice said everything rather fast, that is—and wrinkled her nose at the man standing at the very back of the Great Hall. He seemed to be frowning at Alice. James figured that eating with the students was not, exactly, protocol.

Remus smiled at her. "What've you been up to, anyway, Alice?" he asked finally.

Her smile dimmed considerably. "Oh," she said after a long pause, "this and that." She spared a furtive glance back at Frank Longbottom. Alice plowed through several more pieces of toast before she spoke again."God, I wish I could go back," She regarded James for a moment then cuffed him on the shoulder. "You don't know how lucky you are, kid." James frowned. Perhaps that wasn't what he had expected—or rather, wished—to hear. He wanted to be told that it was better out there, that there was something worth fighting for, that every day was a new adventure. But, instead, he received little more than a solemn grin. "Out there, it's live or die. No one's going to watch your back except you, and the sooner you learn that, the safer you'll be…"

James cleared his throat. "Better to fight than to be stuck here, waiting."

A knowing grin spread across Alice's face. "Yeah, we all think that," she said, "or thought, anyway." She tossed the crust of her toast back onto the plate. "The thing is, all of this fighting—" She gestured around the room. "—seems oddly pointless when there are spells being cast at your back."

Alice looked intently at James.

"See, I was like you," she continued, her smile turning wry. "I wanted to stand beside the greats and fight for our world. What they don't tell you is that the 'greats' aren't out there fighting. They're holed up in their safe houses, protective charms up their ass, safe and sound. And us? We're the grunts, kid. We're the ones risking it all."

James looked at Remus.

"And the glory?" She let out a derisive laugh. "It's a scam."

James thought about this for a while. "Then, why do you still do it?" he asked finally. Alice blinked. She let out an embarrassed chuckle and rubbed the back of her neck.

"That's a good question, ki—"

"Don't call me 'kid,'" he bit.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah," She paused as she considered an answer. Eventually, she looked back at James and smiled. "Because of this," she said, looking around the room, "I want every kid to have this."

It was taken away from Priscilla Goodwin, thought James suddenly.

And that's why he couldn't let her memory fade.

Not yet.


A/N; I don't love-love this chapter, but I also don't dislike it enough to feel like I should change it. Just to give you all a bit of an update, I had up to Chapter 4 pre-written prior to posting this story. By the time this chapter goes up, I should have Chapter 5 all done and edited, as well. Chapter 6 should be written, at least, but I'm a college student so don't get your hopes up. Update: I have written Chapter 6 and I'm in the process of writing Chapter 7. I pre-wrote these chapters a while ago, which is good because I have finals coming up so I should NOT be writing fanfiction. But, I digress! How'd you like this chapter? If you have any comments or suggestions or otherwise, please do leave a review! And while you're at it, favorite and follow, as well! I was planning to keep my updates on Mondays, but then I realized that I hate Mondays, so let's not do that. So, I'll be updating on Saturdays or Sundays from now on. I don't have much else to say (except for lots of rambling), so I'll end this here. Thanks for reading! [SIGNED, SAM]