A/N: Everyone was like whoa what a fast update! I had to get this out there because you were all so mad at James and Lily and that won't do. Just a reminder that I have no legal rights to Harry Potter or You've Got Mail or anything else you think I may be quoting. In case anyone is deluded enough to be confused. Happy reading, folks!

A Voice for the Words

James expected his friends to be asleep by the time he got back to the dorm. Peter definitely was- the monotony of his rhythmic snoring always helped James fall asleep but he had a feeling it wouldn't do him any good tonight. It was hard to say with Remus. He was lying unusually still- he usually slept fitfully- but he didn't acknowledge James's return.

Sirius rolled over when the door creaked open. He hadn't bought the story that James forgot his gloves on the window sill, not for a minute. That boy was forgetting his gloves a lot lately, Sirius had noticed, and for some reason it always took him hours to retrieve them.

James saw Sirius sit up in bed and give him a questioning look. At this point in their friendship, they could basically read each other's minds. James knew Sirius was there for him if he wanted to bare his soul, but Sirius knew that was super unlikely and wouldn't he rather not, and pretend this whole thing never happened?

James shrugged and shook his head. Sirius gave an acknowledging nod and rolled back over. He was sound asleep in minutes.

James crawled into bed and stared at the lofted ceiling. He tried to clear his head by counting golden snitches, but tonight they were racing too fast for his mind to catch, so he gave up. Usually, if he was desperate, he could fall asleep by imagining his mum singing a lullaby- as unmanly as that sounds.

Cheerful little songbird Blue

Woke with the sun like bluebirds do…

No, anything but that!

James sat up suddenly and glared at the drawer of his nightstand. He knew it contained all the letters from his friend- soft and fragile from being opened and read so many times. All her words of comfort and encouragement. Piles of puns and inside jokes. He wanted to set them on fire, as though that would somehow purge her words from his head.

Words he could now put a voice to.

The broken favorite mug was replaced today, and you only owe me two sickles. Of course. She'd bought the little pink teacup from the antiques store that day. He'd seen her drink from it- it was the same shade of pink as her lips when she sipped.

I needed someone I don't know to vent to. Ha! He could only imagine why.

That would have put that jerk in his place. That jerk? Who could she be… oh, right. Obviously.

Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? Interesting.

I follow quidditch, but pretend I am above it all. He knew it. Nobody just studies at the pitch during practice. And the other day Minnie Wright had said the captain of the Russian quidditch team was attractive and he thought he heard Lily mutter "butterfingers" and how would she know what a quaffle-dropper the Russian chaser was if she didn't follow quidditch?

I'm afraid of thestrals. It was obvious now. Third year she'd gotten off the school carriage white as a sheet and shaking. It was the first time she'd seen them. Everyone assumed she was cracking up over the loss of her mother.

I have a boyfriend who does not know I am writing letters to you. Something about that line felt good to James, like something buoyant was growing in his chest. He felt an unexplained smirk of self-satisfaction spreading over his face.

And then-

Of course I'm fond of you.

I've become accustomed to your owl waking me up.

Please help.

I'm about to lose something I've worked very hard to get.

I'm ready to give up.

I need to see you smile. Tell me in person that I can do it.

Happy Christmas dear Friend.

Yours, Etc.

Yours.

Yours.

He had been such a prat. He sat on the edge of his bed and tugged at the mess of black hair on his head as though he could manually remove the day's memories. He sat that way, mulling over his own stupidity, until a soft tap sounded on the window.

"Whassat?" he heard mumbled from one of the beds nearby.

James sighed and walked over to the window before the owl's tapping could grow louder and wake the whole dorm. He opened it to find Brinkley, whose large orange eyes looked particularly judgmental tonight. It delivered a rolled up piece of parchment that appeared to have been crumpled up at least once before being meticulously smoothed back out.

He accepted the letter with great apprehension. The moment he'd taken it, Brinkley whirled around and took off into the darkness. Great, even her owl is mad at me. "At least send Archie back! How am I supposed to answer her?!" he whispered as loudly as he could, leaning out the window. A distant, reproachful hoot echoed in response.

James growled and shuffled back to his bed without bothering to close the window. He drew the bed-hangings so he could read the letter without his wand-light waking the others. It took him a full minute to work up the courage to unfold the crinkled parchment and face her wrath.

I've been thinking about you. I went to meet you and you weren't there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish. And as I waited, someone else showed up: a boy who has made my life a misery. And an amazing thing happened. I was able, for the first time in my life to say the exact thing I wanted to say at the exact moment I wanted to say it. And, of course, afterwards, I felt terrible, just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And even though I can hardly believe what I said mattered to him - he thinks I am just a bug to be crushed - but what if it did? No matter what he's done to me, there is no excuse for my behavior.

I hope you have a good reason for not being there tonight. You don't seem like the kind of person that would do something like that. I guess I don't really know what sort of person you are at all, having never met you, but I feel like I do. Until now you've always been there for me. Thank you, at the very least, for that.

She'd penned no greeting and no salutation. There was no need.

James let out a long, slow breath. It was worse than he thought. She wasn't even mad. She'd apologized to him- and she hadn't even know it was him. She actually felt bad for how she'd treated James Potter.

He pulled out the snowy, crisp stationary she'd bought him and inked tip of his fancy eagle feather quill from Christmas.

And stared at the parchment, having no idea how to begin.

A soft rustling alerted him that Brinkley had sent Archie after all. That was good- he would be able to send his reply straight away tonight. If he managed to think of anything to write. James opened the curtain enough to let the owl in and offered him an owl treat from the drawer. Archie refused it- Evans had been spoiling him with fresh crisps from the kitchen and had turned him into a right old snob. James rolled his eyes, and with the reproachful gaze of his owl upon him, began to write.

Dear Evans, wait… Dear E. He couldn't let himself slip up like that.

The wildest thing happened. I was on my way to meet you when a runaway hippogriff came bursting through town, and I had to save a lost child from his path, and there were dark wizards, amazingly enough. And I didn't have an owl with me to tell you I would be late.

James looked hopefully at Archie. The owl met his gaze unblinkingly. He'd never seen an owl look so skeptical.

"Fine," he whispered harshly. "But I'd like to see you do better."

Whirrrooo the owl answered indignantly.

James ripped the page in half and pulled out a fresh length of parchment. He couldn't lie to her. She deserved, at the very least, as much honesty as he could give her. He began again.

Dear Friend,

I cannot tell you what happened last night. But I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for not being there.

James hesitated. Even that was a lie. He had been there. He'd had a butterbeer with her, and teased her, and belittled her and made her cry. He watched her walk home in the snow and the dark, all alone. He felt sick.

"Oh, this is a disaster," he said. Archie hooted in agreement.

Lily made it through her classes the next day, somehow. She spent a considerable amount of each lesson staring blankly at blackboards or out windows, lost in thought. Luckily, most of her professors were accustomed to her being an exemplary student, so none of them felt the need to call her out for appearing a bit distracted. She didn't like feeling melancholy. She had always held the opinion that girls who let their personal lives interfere with their concentration were weak.

But that day she decided that everyone was allowed to be a little weak, from time to time.

She also decided that it was far past time to come clean to Alice. As soon as classes were over for the day she sat her down in the quietest corner of the common room, in their favorite pair of squashy armchairs, and told her everything. Al was a bit sore that her best friend had been keeping a secret pen pal from her for months, but she forgave her instantly when Lily explained the train-wreck of a night she'd experienced at the Three Broomsticks.

"He stood you up?!" She gasped.

"No… I wouldn't characterize it like that. I think something happened. Something terrible that made it impossible for him to…" Lily trailed off.

Alice heard the quaver in her tone and frowned. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Lily picked at a loose string on the edge of her jumper, unable to meet her friend's eye. Another fear had been gnawing at the edge of her mind- one that she felt silly voicing but was there all the same. "What if...maybe he took one look at me and left."

"Impossible!" Alice shook her head adamantly.

Lily looked up with a half smile. "You're a good friend, Alice."

"Seriously! It's far more likely that he had some horrible accident. I'll bet he had to save a lost child from a runaway hippogriff and he was injured. And now he's in St. Mungo's regrowing all his bones."

Lily giggled. "I'm certain that's precisely what happened!"

"Or maybe…" Alice gasped. He eyes fell on that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet, which someone had abandoned on a nearby desk. The headline read "Local Raids Lead to Arrest of Dark Magic Henchman." She looked at it with wide, bugging eyes before turning her gaze on Lily. "So. That explains it."

"What?! You aren't suggesting…"

Alice snatched the newspaper off the desk and jabbed her finger at the sooty print. "He was arrested two miles from Hogsmeade! So he couldn't come last night because he was in Azkaban. And there was no way to owl out. Lily, you're so lucky- you could have been murdered!"

"That's ridiculous. He couldn't possibly be a rogue dark wizard!"

Alice raised her eyebrows. "Remember when you thought Richard might be the Fourth Floor Flasher?"
"Well," Lily said as she folded the newspaper primly on her lap. "That was different." The girls dissolved into laughter once again.

For the first time all day Lily allowed herself to feel a fragile sort of happiness- like weak sunshine through the clouds. The feeling grew throughout the afternoon of catching up with her best friend, and was bolstered by their giggles and laughter.

It was a sort of happy that only wavered when she went up to her dorm to retrieve a book and found a large brown owl sitting on her pillow with a bit of fancy stationery.

"Hi Archie," she said nervously. She walked up to him and took the letter with a sense of trepidation. She knew this letter could be ending her correspondence, and she wasn't ready to lose a friend.

Stop being a coward. She told herself, and she opened the letter without any more hesitation.

Dear Friend,

I cannot tell you what happened last night. But I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain, but I'm absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked- even deserved. Everyone says things they regret when they're worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted and met the enemy instead. The fault is mine and someday I'll explain it. In the meantime, I'm still here.

Talk to me.

A/N: Thanks for reading. More coming soon, most likely. My brain got all blocked for awhile but now I know where I'm going so things should progress in a timely manner. But, you know, a little encouragement wouldn't go amiss ;)