Bonjour, mes amis.

This chapter's rated a strong T for some swearing.

I'm feeling kind of stupid that I updated this so fast. There are only three chapters and an epilogue left, and there aren't enough reviews :/ So please, make all the effort I put into this worthwhile, and review for me :) (I swear, that was NOT emotional blackmail. -shifty eyes-)

10

[SATURDAY]

At noon the next day I awoke to find myself in my own bed on my stomach, breathing into the pillow. It had been the sweet smell I was inhaling – Lily's shampoo, though I hadn't realized it then – that had roused me. I sat up and looked around.

She was gone.

Of course. I recalled the events from the night before, pictured her saying, her face hidden in shadow, that she would leave in the morning. I remembered how I had hoped so badly that something – anything – would happen, as we stared at each other in the dark, her whispered apology, and then her quiet sobs when we had separated ourselves. I remembered the dream I had had of her when I had finally fallen asleep.

I shook my head and lifted myself out of bed. My feet touched the bed I had made on the floor last night. I looked down and something pink caught my eye.

Ever since I had bumped into her in the hall last Tuesday on my way to Potions and found myself holding the third note after she'd left, I had suspected Lily of leaving them to me. And yesterday, when she had crept into my room, I had been willing to bet all of my possessions that she was the culprit. But now, as I looked down at the newest message, despite the obvious evidence – the fact that she had been in my room last night – I no longer believed that it was her. Because if she admired me, she could have done anything last night, in that frozen moment after we'd both laid down in the same bed – touched me, kissed me, perhaps even told me. But she hadn't. She had only told me that she was sorry that she couldn't do any of those things. She was not the sender.

Blindly, I grabbed the nearest thing in my reach – a red and gold cushion, as it happened – and hurled it across the room. It hit Peter, who was still lying spread-eagled on his bed with his mouth wide open, and he jumped and blinked his eyes open, focusing them on me. "What was that for?" he asked, looking as if he was afraid he had done something wrong.

I didn't answer. Suddenly he spotted the pink note on the floor, saw me staring at it furiously. "What's that?" he asked quickly.

My head shot up. I looked him dead in the eye. "You want to know what this is?" I said, my teeth clenched. "I'll tell you what this is."

I bent down, scraped it off the blankets, and strode over to his bed – I did all of this so fast that he was sweating when I arrived at his beside, not knowing what had just happened. I crumpled the bit of parchment in my fist and shook it under his nose. His watery black eyes followed the motion of my hand nervously. "This," I whispered, "is nothing. It's nothing, do you hear me?" He jumped again; my voice had risen to an incredible volume. "It's nothing, it never will be, it's meaningless! It's got nothing to do with her, nothing! She's not the one!" I yelled dementedly.

Somehow through my blind anger, it registered that he had absolutely no idea what I was raving about. But I didn't care. "You see, it's not from her. It never was! And I tried and tried to convince her to – but she wouldn't – because of this dumb thing that's happened that she won't tell me abou –"

I stopped. Peter looked more terrified than ever at my sudden silence; he didn't say a word but watched me carefully. All my attention was now fixated on the piece of paper in my hand. As I had waved it around in front of him, it had unfurled, screaming its message to my face. I didn't notice as I scanned it, though, that the handwriting had changed ever so slightly from the last note – because I was too stunned by what it read.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

And below that, in bold letters that had been traced by a sure, confident hand:

Meet me in front of the kitchens at one past one tonight.

*

I descended the stairs and looked around the Entrance Hall, which was milling with students going in and out of the Great Hall, some of them bedraggled, some having just finished lunch. The hall was buzzing with the noise of a thousand students, old and young, chattering cheerfully about who-knew-what. Some were carrying stacks of toast and bacon and shoving past me on the staircase, some were laughing and exclaiming to each other while patting their stomachs, "God, I'll never go hungry again –" I spotted a couple sitting together on a bench tucked away in an alcove, their lips locked and their hands wrapped together. The girl had red hair. I looked away.

It was a typical Saturday afternoon, only not typical at all.

I heard someone call my name and saw Sirius grinning at me from the doorway to the Great Hall, waving me over. I stepped down the last few stairs and fought through the crowd to join him.

"Hey," he said, noticing my distracted expression. "What's going on?"

"Huh?"

"You look weird. Did something happen?"

I looked at him full in the face. "No."

"Oh." He looked confused. "Well, you overslept, obviously. Come on, let's get some lunch."

He pulled me through the crowd to the Gryffindor table. I spotted blue hair on the other side of the Hall and remembered I was supposed to break up with Lily's boyfriend for her.

As we squeezed ourselves on the benches behind the table I asked Sirius, "Where's Lily?"

He swallowed the bite chicken pie he had been chewing and said, "I dunno. I haven't seen her since morning. I guess she's still asleep, or something."

Or maybe she's up in her room crying again, I bitterly added to myself. There was a short silence in which Sirius chewed slowly and I stared at my empty plate. Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore.

"Listen, Sirius, what's going on with her?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

He looked at his pie, avoiding my eyes, and began picking pieces of chicken out of it. "Look, I told you I can't tell you that."

"But why not?" I asked exasperatedly. "I mean, what's so big that you can't just –"

"Have you ever stop to consider," he said, looking up at me now, his tone steely, "that it might be something she just wants to keep quiet?"

I shook my head. "I swear, I won't tell anyone –"

"James, I'm not going to tell you. She asked me not to talk about it with anyone. That includes you." He paused. "Just because you're her new best friend now or something, it doesn't mean you don't have to worry about the meaning of trust."

I ignored this comment, pleading desperately, "Sirius, I won't tell anyone. I swear on my father's life I won't say a word."

He looked at me, suddenly livid, and I lapsed into fearful silence. "See," he intoned, his eyes blazing, "that is something you should not have said."

I didn't say anything. He continued busying himself with his pie. Then, "I'm going to look for her."

He didn't stop me as I rose and bustled out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase.

*

I jogged up to the portrait of the Fat Lady and skidded to a stop in front of her. "Password?" she said, her tone bored.

"Snidget!" I said urgently.

"Sorry, that's not it."

I blinked. "What?"

She sighed, rolled her eyes. "The password changed last night. No one tell you?"

I wanted to scream. This was why Sirius hadn't stopped me from going upstairs!

"Lily!" I blurted frantically.

"Nope, that's not it either."

"Argh!" I yelled, lifting my eyes up to the heavens, "you know me! It's James Potter – I'm a Gryffindor! Just let me the hell in –"

She looked astounded. "Well, no one with that kind of mouth is going to enter my common room –"

"Let him in."

The new voice was loud, commanding. I spun on my heel and saw Professor Slughorn standing there, all splendors in bottle green robes and a tall, pointed hat. His hands were behind his back; his stern eyes were fixed on the portrait.

"But, Professor –"

He spoke again. His voice boomed throughout the empty halls. "Let him in."

His eyes turned to me, grew soft. "He needs to see someone."

I heard the portrait creak as the Fat Lady grudgingly obeyed with a sigh, but I didn't turn around yet. I simply stood there, looking at Slughorn bemusedly. I couldn't say anything.

He gave a slow nod. "You're welcome."

And then he strode away.

*

I climbed slowly through the portrait hole and saw Lily sitting on one of the couches by the fire, staring into the flames, her back to me. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and one of the sleeves of her cardigan had slipped, revealing the bare flesh of her shoulder cut into by the strap of her blue bra. There was no one there; everyone was downstairs either enjoying lunch or breakfast or the sunshine.

When I came around and put my hand on her shoulder, she jumped and looked up. Her face softened.

"Hi," she said, and the smile on her face was beautiful.

For the millionth time since I had known her, set eyes on her on the train that very first day, my heart stopped at the sight of her smile. I was flooded with something so warm, so delicious; it rose to my throat so that I couldn't speak. And then I realized I didn't want to know. Not now. I would wait until later. Because I didn't want to ask her, not at the moment, when she was looking so nice, so happy, so peaceful. I knew that at every mention of what she was not telling me, her face would cloud and then the tears would come. I didn't want to make her cry. And so I didn't ask her.

Nothing mattered, not the notes, not her problems or mine, not Sirius. All that mattered was that she was here and she was beautiful and I wanted to tell her, so badly, so badly.

"Hello," I replied, sitting next to her. "You're smiling."

"Yeah," she said, and she seemed to find this amusing because she laughed then. I closed my eyes and listened. It was such a pretty sound. "Yeah, I am."

There was a comfortable silence. We both stared at the flames while I thought about the night before and she thought about, I was sure, the unnamed family problem.

Then she spoke. "James."

I looked at her beautiful face. "Yes."

"Thank you," she said, and her clear green eyes were so full of gratitude that they looked more enrapturing than ever.

I put my hand on hers. It felt soft under mine. She did not move it away. "What for?" I asked softly.

"This. Being here. It's helped me a lot." She turned her eyes so that they were fixed to mine, green to hazel. A rainforest of emotions. "You're helping me get through this."

"Helping? It's not over yet?"

She didn't reply for a moment, gazed into the bright orange flames in thoughtful silence. Then, without looking at me, "I don't think it will ever truly be over."

I watched her profile, admired the perfect curve of her nose and the shape of her lips. I was too caught with her to ask her what she meant. "You're welcome," I said, my voice raspy.

Again, silence. The only sound was the crackling of the flames.

And again, she broke it. "So, you still haven't told me," she said, a twinkle in her eye, "did you tell William about me breaking up with him?"

She was talking about her blue-haired boyfriend. "No, not yet," I told her.

"Come on, James. You have to do it at some point. I closed my end of the deal."

"Yeah, well, you're braver than I am."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that Briony is not eleven million times more dangerous than William?"

I laughed. "That's a good point, I'll give you that, but at least you don't have to break up with a guy with muscles the size of Russia for me."

She shuddered. "I sincerely hope not," she said jokingly, and then peered at me. "I would never have to do that, would I?" She gasped mockingly. "I'd never have pegged you as a gay man, James Potter. You've been keeping secrets."

I chuckled. "I would never keep secrets from you, Lily Evans."

"That's good to know."

"Okay, but seriously. That guy is huge. What if he freaks when I tell him and starts growing tentacles out of his ears, or something? You've seen me in a fight." I laughed. "I can't throw a punch to save my life."

"Unless it's for someone you love," she said, and my eyes grew wide, but then she added, "like your hypothetical little brother."

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That guy. I'm not so sure I'd punch someone for him, though."

"Why's that?"

"Because he's always taking things from my room. He's stolen my broom once, my wand twice, and my only pair of clean pants exactly fourteen times." I paused. "I was pantsless for weeks," I complained, pretending to sob.

She laughed and looked away, hiding a secret smile. At the sound, I felt an invisible fist clench around my heart. "You know, Lily," I told her quietly, "you should laugh more often."

She turned to me again, admonishing me, "Now, you've already made me promise I'll smile, but I can't do everything you tell me to, James P –"

But she didn't continue. Couldn't. Because suddenly my mouth was on hers, and she wasn't pulling away, and her lips were cold and soft and I couldn't believe this I couldn't believe this I couldn't believe this. My eyes closed; her eyes closed. It was the most wonderful feeling – my hand resting on her jaw, and the curve was just right, and the shape was just right: this was Lily's face I was touching, these were Lily's lips I was kissing and I couldn't believe this, I couldn't believe this.

I never wanted it to end.

But it had to. I pulled away and looked at her. So beautiful. Her eyes were still closed, as if she were dreaming that it was not over. I saw the lump in her throat move up, then down as she swallowed silently. Keeping the taste of me with her. But then her eyes fluttered open – angel's wings – and she saw me watching her and she whispered, "I'm sorry."

She stood up and her body was straight and stiff as a rod. "Lily," I said. Desperately. No. Please don't go. Not now.

"I – I have to go," she said shakily.

"Lily."

"I have to go and find the notebook." This should have been my first clue – my millionth clue. I had had a million fucking clues laid out for me and I hadn't seen anything.

She started to walk away. I was frozen on the couch.

"No. Lily."

"I'm going, James."

She was at the portrait hole. "I'm sorry."

She turned towards it. But it swung open before she could pull the door.

"No! Lily!" I was leaning over the back of the couch; my arm was outstretched; and I was sure that, when Sirius saw the look on my face from where he stood in front of the portrait hole, he understood.

He stared at me, stunned.

My hand fell limply over the back of the couch.

And then he turned away and followed her out of the portrait hole.

*

[SATURDAY – NIGHT]

Way to go, James, I told myself, staring up at the canopy in the dark. Way to go.

Today I had effectively driven away two of the best friends God had ever given me. Two people who would have stuck by my side, defended me, accompanied me wherever I went, and supported me through anything I did – gone, because of one stupid mistake. Because of one stupid, lovely mistake: kissing Lily.

I tried to relive it, to feel the feelings I had felt when my mouth was on hers, but all I could think of was that she hadn't wanted it, she hadn't wanted any of it. I sighed and rolled over in bed. I suspected this was going to be yet another sleepless night.

But then I remembered something. It was amazing it could come back to me at a time like this, but it was the sight of my watch that triggered the memory. The bright blue glow-in-the-dark numbers read 12:57 A.M.

Meet me in front of the kitchens at one past one tonight.

Three minutes later I was skidding to a stop in front of the portrait of the fruit bowl with the ticklish pear, clutching the Invisibility Cloak to me. When I pulled it off, several pieces of paper fluttered out, and startled, I picked them up off their various places on the stone floor to read them by the light of my wand.

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; ONE PAST ONE

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, ONE PAST ONE

When in eternal lines to time thou growest: ONE PAST ONE

I looked at my watch. It was one past one.

I heard a sound. Glanced up. And then I saw the composer of the love notes coming down the narrow hallway, and I refused to believe my eyes.

The button is just calling you... inviting you... push it! PUSH IT!

Oh, and please don't try to guess who the sender is in your review. I don't want to have to give anything away. If I do, I'll have to explain everything, and the next chapter would be pointless :P