James' eyes opened reluctantly, still not certain whether he should give up and comply the blinding sun rays or just doze off again. He was comfortable, much more than comfortable actually, almost warm to the core. He stretched in his place, moving his sleepy muscles when his hand hit someone.

He looked over at Lily, sleeping peacefully beside him and clutching a pillow in her hands. Her face was more relaxed than it's ever been during the summer, there was no frown, no worry or concern, just peacefulness bestowed upon her. He couldn't resist trailing his fingers on her cheek; it became a habit now. He loved the her softness which drugged him . Looking over at the muggle alarm beside her bed, he knew it was time to wake her up.

"Lils, Lils, wake up." He whispered softly in her ears. She murmured a faint objection and struggled again to dope off. James chuckled a bit, and gave her some more time. He went to the kitchen, glad that he picked some of his mother's household charms and all too soon the bacon was pickling and the coffee was being prepared. Although he was off age, he knew that Lily wasn't that kind of person who would like her responsibilities being held by someone else, so he tried to avoid using magic as much as he could but resisting the need to see that look on her face he would get was more than a tough job. She would make a great Head Girl, and following his train of thoughts, he remembered he didn't mention he was the Head Boy. She wouldn't believe him anyway, who in his right mind would make him Head Boy?

James heard her yawning from her room, stirring his memory and causing last night to flash across his eyes. He remembered how it felt like to hold her that close, to feel her lips on his, her hands in his hair. He was stunned at first, his mind had gone blank when she first ventured her move. And it remained blank, his instincts had taken all over, thinking only when he felt they might go too far...

Yes, through the mingle of sensations and wildness, he managed to draw a line for now. Perhaps Lily was recovering, but it was by no means right to just go with the flow no matter how much he wanted it; strove for it. Thus, he just enjoyed holding her, kissing her until exhaustion got the better of them both. They cuddled right where they were on the couch, but as the time ticked, he picked her up and put her in bed.

"Stay with me tonight." She whispered in a sleepy voice, her hands around his neck, her eyes half-closed. He couldn't say no and tucked beside her beneath the covers.

"I see you managed to unleash your talent in cooking," came Lily's voice from behind startling James, "the smell is fantastic."

James turned around and saw her, wearing a pink tank top and sweat pants. "I'm a natural." He said, smirking.

"Sure you're." The corners of her lips twitching as she inhaled in, remembering how much she missed being greeted in the morning with that smell...

Too bad good days have to end.


Lily kept staring at Mr. Rupert, with that look of skepticism on her face, barely listening to the words he just uttered to actually understand them. The healer looked at her, with a slight frown of concern on his face, looking genuinely apologetic for announcing the horrible news.

"I'm sorry, Miss Evans." He repeated again, watching for her reaction, waiting for her to fully absorb what he just said. As far as Lily remembered, it included a lot of sorry and we did our best and inevitable. She practically heard the last word over three times. She looked at James who stood beside her, then back to the healer, as if waiting for them to burst into laughter and shout APRIL'S FOOL.

But nothing happened, no one laughed and no one announced his responsibility for this rude prank.

"You're lying." She simply stated, there was no hint of accusation in her voice. It was a simple fact, a one she was so sure of.

James pulled Lily into him, his arm holding her around the waist, his lips tightly pressed on her forehead, his whole body slightly shaking.

The healer smiled apologetically and said, "I wish I were," and left.

"James, this is a really sick joke, you know," she said, her voice quivering a bit, and his hold on her tightened even more, now engulfing her into a full embrace. The strength he was holding her with was breath-knocking, as if with more proximity he would absorb all the shock and fury, or as if he would freeze her in the same mental and physical state, as if he would prevent her from rushing somewhere, away from him. He didn't want her to slip within herself again. He didn't want her to drew deeper and deeper into some place only God knows where, a place darker, more horrifying than any other, inside of her.

"Everything would be fine," He murmured over and over again in rushed tone, calling her name every, Lily, Lily, Lils, everything would be alright.

Lily just stayed silent, not even trying to resist him. He felt it, she was slowly, gradually leaving again, too weak already to handle another shock. Yet, she threw another look at Alice whom the nurse was taking away now from her bed, incredulity never leaving her face. The sight they saw was even too much for him, let alone her. The baby's last cries were deafening, mashing the listeners' insides, her body shook repeatedly from the extra charges which unmercifully took control of her body. The healers responded promptly, casting spells, monitoring the case, and a table full of different potions by their side.

Alice couldn't be dead, she simply wasn't dead, she couldn't be. She was the most adorable baby she'd ever seen, with the same green eyes Lily had, and a smile that was only served for her big sister. She'd taken care of her the whole summer; fed her, played with her, took her to work. She became Lily's only concern and aim the past two months, she was ready to quite Hogwarts to take care of her! Now, she was gone, as simple as that. Gone, the word echoed in her mind.

"She can't be gone, James," She wasn't crying, but her voice was quivering a bit with fear, the fear of believing what she just heard, "tell me she's not gone."

His tightened his grip, already trembling from inside, his whole world about to crash again.

"Tell me, James!" She demanded more forcefully, "tell me! tell me she's not dead!"

"TELL ME!" she shouted, growing stronger, resisting more powerfully, "TELL ME! TELL ME! TELL ME!"

She shouted on the top of her lungs, her voice muffled a bit by James. But all too soon, the shouting had stopped and Lily had blackened out.

Eleven days seemed to pass by, unnoticed, insignificant after the funeral. It was a simple one, with hardly anyone coming except some of her neighbours, her boss and James. She couldn't contact her parents, she couldn't tell them something she didn't believe in herself. James didn't leave her since that day, he would simply lay beside her as she slept, escaping what she must face. It was her defensive mechanism, her subconscious recognizing the danger that lay within that belief. Once she'd register the truth, whatever she managed to preserve of herself would be blown, the last bits that held her together would crumble to dust.

At night, he would lay awake, gazing at her, stroking her hair, frustrated with himself for being able to do nothing, frustrated at the world for being so cruel to a girl so delicate. During the day, he would help her wash her face, eat her breakfast, give her the calming potion the healer suggested. She didn't venture anything from her side but rather stayed impassive, only responding when necessary, nodding when it felt appropriate. He took her outside, drove her around the city with his car, took her to a walk along the lake, told her to cling so hard to him so they could apparate...

There was no day he kept her at home, he wasn't going to let her stay miserable in a place that reminded her with every bad memory she ever had. She needed to breath, she had to.

But it didn't seem to work, her face was paler than ever regardless of all the food he managed to shove down her throat or of the potions she took. Her face fell, petrified, fixed, a ghost moving around with him. He would be her ghost as well, in the middle of the night when her grief would be too crushing and threatening, he'd allow his face to copy hers.

He couldn't take any more of this. He couldn't see her suffer that way every day. He wasn't sure when exactly was that denial state going to stop, or how excruciating the actual grief would be. And that's when it occurred to him, the mere simple yet blazing fact that he would not allow her to experience it. He could do something after all, he'd have to pay something but it was all okay as long as Lily would be okay.

It was torturing, but the issue was settled.

Lily would be okay.