OMG!! I am soooooo sorry that this took so long to get up. I was sick all weekend (starting thursday) and then on monday and tuesday, and I just couldn't get this one right until last night. But it's here now!


*~ The Unofficial and Unheard Soundtrack ~*

*~ We'll Never Know ~ Lifehouse ~*


They were close, he knew. He'd changed, that much was sure, too. But was it enough?

He'd have to find out the hard way.

There was a little baby boy toddling around his parents' legs. He had that goofy, three-toothed smile on his chubby face; his parents beamed with pride.

He stuffed the photo that he took everywhere back in his pocket. It may have been all that was left of them, but at least their memory would always live.

"Move on. Don't forget, don't ever forget, but keep living life."

That advice had kept him sane all these months, if only barely. His state of emotional turmoil had been a rollercoaster, and during the plummets he had clung to those words as he would a rope in tug-of-war.

He took a deep breath and leaned against the cold wall. Why was this so hard?

Because you love her, said a voice in his brain.

Shut up, the rest of his mind suggested to it.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply again, he extracted himself from his hiding place, looked left and right, and set off.

One foot in front of the other, he told his brain and legs.

But why is this so hard?

Because you love her.

He slowed his brisk pace. Love. It seemed and odd concept to him, somehow, yet at the same time it had been in his heart since the beginning of forever.

Would this be considered the next step, or the first step?

His brain took its time answering, so he seized the opportunity to enjoy the scenery surrounding him as he always did.

The next step, said his brain finally.

For whatever reason, this seemed to satisfy him -- but still, he did not go, but continued walking aimlessly around, being sure to take the longest route possible.

He checked his watch. It was now or never. Hands deep in his pockets, he set a new, more worn course, acknowledging known passers-by with a nod or a grin or a "Hey." It gave him an odd sense of security to know he wasn't alone in this situation, he thought as he passed a couple of guys who looked mightily like Firewhiskey was needed as a remedy for heartbreak (He made a mental note to inform someone of this). Would the same happen to him?

At the door, he stopped for a brief moment. Somehow, he knew that when he came out of here, his life would be changed forever. It was the seventh year, after all.

He knew where she was without a doubt in his mind -- a rare occurance in and of itself, when pertaining to matters such as these. Instead of marching straight up to her, however, he dawdled some more; it soothed him, the silence except for his breathing, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of paper or whisper, like wind whistling through a canyon. He paused, once, for a piece of good luck chocolate; he crammed the whole thing in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed quickly before anyone (namely an ugly old lady) could see -- not that 99.99% of the inhabitants would care.

The sugar gave him renewed strength (Was it tainted?), almost like a drug, or, perhaps, with any luck, another sensation he would soon be feeling.

Or not.

There she was. Scribbling furiously, there were several things she could have been doing: Homework was the most obvious, but the look on her face -- a mixtureof pure concentration and . . . something else (Lift your eyes, woman, and let me see to the depths within! pleaded the over-dramatic part of his brain) -- betrayed that fact completely. He knew her too well. Possibility #2: A letter to home. But there was something different there, too. She always worked on letters in the common room, always. Fine, then, the last and least likely hypothesis: A . . . A note to him? Though, this could be entirely based on his hopes; If that was indeed the case, though, this was good -- very good -- news. But her hair hid her face far too well to find any sign of compassion or any such emotion (THE EYES! THE EYES!).

He'd have to take a chance, then.

He took a seat at her table. "Hey," he said quietly.

She looked up and smiled. "Hey yourself," she returned, tucking her hair behind her ear. "What's up?"

He shrugged. "I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

She pretended to huff. "Well. I had no idea that I was your last resort, so excuse me."

He grinned past his nervousness. "You're more than excused, I would think." She turned faintly pink: a good sign. "What'cha up to?"

She looked down at her whatever-it-was. "Oh. Nothing much," she said, far too quickly to be believable (Along with the fact that her blush deepened).

He snorted. "You're a really, really bad liar sometimes. No offense."

"None taken."

Silence.

"Listen, there's something I --" they both started at the same time. They chuckled.

"You first," she requested.

"A-alright." He cleared his throat akwardly. "Um . . . Remember that one time . . . in third year?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

"The one after Quidditch Finals."

She groaned. "How can I not? You declared your love for me in front of the entire Gryffindor House." She was now scarlet, yet he couldn't figure out why.

He hesitated. Was this the way to go about this? He had a feeling this was completely mixing up, turning upside-down and all-out Transfiguring the procedure he was supposed to follow.

Whoa, whoa. Wait, said his brain. Procedure?

No. That was wrong. Since when had he done anything according to the rules? Since when had he cared what other people thought about him? Since when did he plan (Quidditch, when he met her, and the fourth year pick-up line phase, in order)?

"I wasn't lying," he declared. His face and mind were set, and there wasn't an ounce of doubt in his voice.

Her brilliant eyes studied his face, searching for answers; she found some only behind his glasses.

"What." It was more of a statement.

"I love you," he said. "I think I always have. I just . . . wasn't positive. I love you, Lily Evans."

She was speechless for a moment -- but only a moment. Slowly, very slowly, she began to beam. "Really?" At his nod, she looked away momentarily, but then captured his gaze with hers. "I -- I think . . . I think I love you, too."

"Are you kidding? 'Cause if you're kidding . . ." He couldn't bring himself to be intimidating. Not when so many hopes and dreams were riding on her reply.

"No, I'm not." She seemed hardly aware of the words that were rolling forth from her tongue. "I'm really in love with you, James Potter."

He grinned ear-to-ear and leaned forward a little, but (What's with all the 'but's? asked his brain irritably) --

"I've just got one question, though."

He nodded for her to go on.

"Why did you tell me now?"

He heaved a large sigh. "Well, after -- after my parents, you know . . . I realized how short life really is. One second you're laughing and talking, and the next you're dead on the floor. It . . . it can just be taken away so fast. AndI know I want to be an Auror, and it's dangerous. If I end up dying --"

"Don't say that --"

"-- then I want you to know how I feel. And like they say, 'There's no time like the present.'"

She smiled again. "Well, now that that's taken care of . . ." She leaned over the table.

"I like the way you think."

"Mm. I like the way I think, too," she all but breathed. And she kissed him.

An explosion took place in his head, rattling the many arguemental states of mind; this was the best feeling in the world . . . in the galaxy . . . make that universe . . .

She pulled away suddenly and wiped something off the corner of his mouth with her finger. "Chocolate?"

James grinned. "It's a funny story . . ."

Lily nodded, still smiling. "Let's hear it, then. I could get used to this."


There! FINALLY! You have no idea how hard that was to write. And I know James was sort of OOC, but he changed entirely for Lily. I liked the ending, personally. I always like my endings (Don't ask me why). It's so Lily-and-James-like! R&Ring makes my day!! Virtual cookie if you do!!

XAPY-TZINY-IIOZEINTON-NOAT
Long name, long story.