14

I made my way to James' room after dinner, hesitant as to what I'd walk in on. I carefully walked through his classroom, into his office which was a mess with parchment and dishes, but I was glad to see he'd eaten. I walked into his rooms, to see they weren't much better. Had James threw a tantrum? I glanced around, to see his sleeping form slouched over in an armchair, glasses askew and looking exhausted. I flicked my wand, carefully levitating him, and gently set his sleeping form onto our bed. I vanished some of his clothes, leaving him in his underclothes and tucked him under the blankets. I flicked the light off, noting it was only seven o'clock. He must be more torn up over this than a little oral sex could fix.

I spent the next while cleaning up and repairing some broken things around his rooms. His desk had been a mess, and I ended up spending a couple hours grading papers for him. Most of the first years were truly clueless, and it made me chuckle as I put little marks, trying to imitate James' poor penmanship with the marks I gave. I then wrote their grades in the book James kept, nosing around to see who was doing poor in my class. It was fun, but I'd hate to permanently grade papers for a living.

When I was satisfied with the workload I'd done for him, and the cleanliness of the place, I changed and curled up under the warm blankets, listening to the steady breathing of James' sleep.

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I stirred, hearing rustling noises. Judging from the lack of light from the window, it was still very early. I sat up, rubbing my cheek. "James?" I asked.

"I need to go, see him, he's bad, they say he may not make it, I need to go…" he mumbled. I sprung up, pulling on some robes as I watched him attempt to tie his shoes.

"Let's go," I said softly, kneeling down to do his shoes for him.

"You have class, you're so young…you don't deserve-" I cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down by his shirt.

"Let's go." I firmly took his hand and walked him to the fire, and we disappeared in a green blaze. When we arrived at St. Mungo's, I walked us to the front desk.

Before I could say anything, she said, "Here for Mr. Potter? Room 138, near the back," she said helpfully."

"Thank you," I replied with a small smile as I tugged James along.

"They don't have a ward for the dying, the dying get the leftover rooms, the lesser-"

"Don't say that," I said, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry," he said distantly.

I led him through the hospital, looking for the right room. I wasn't sure exactly how to deal with this. I'd never been in a similar situation, not one like this. I braced myself as I saw the correct room, and squeezed his hand.

I knocked lightly on the door before opening it. Whatever I was expecting, it was not this. Mr. Potter was lying on the bed, sound asleep and unnaturally straight, on his back. He looked pale, his lips slightly blue. But that wasn't what made me catch my breath.

His room could have doubled as a greenhouse, I decided. Flowers and plants decorated every available surface, even lining the floor of the room. There were familiar muggle flowers, plain roses, lilies, tulips, daisies…plenty of those. There were plain potted plants, blooming and green, decorated with flapping birds and fluttering butterflies, with huge bows and heavy looking pots. And then there were the magical type plants, the sparkling flowers, roses blooming and dying in a five minute cycle, tulips opening and closing of their own accord. A blooming vine was traveling around the floor, one way then the next, reaching out to touch other plants, making them shine where it touched. In the corner there was a huge flutterby tree in a pot the size of a large cauldron…and many, many more.

"He's going to be missed," James said quietly, taking in the scene.

"He's very loved," I corrected. I took out my wand and thought hard, pointing at my simple braided bracelet with the flower pattern. Closing my eyes and murmuring a charm, I felt my once string woven jewelry become much heavier. It turned into a wreath of woodsy wildflowers with a heavenly glow. I then levitated it to hang on the door, the only place not occupied by a plant.

"Thank you," James murmured.

"Of course," I said quietly.

Merlin save me.

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That was the last time we saw Mr. Potter alive. His funeral was the next Saturday, when we saw his resting body lying peacefully in his beautiful carved casket, decorated with flowers.

James finally said his last goodbye. Seeing James, my rock, my support, broken down like this was difficult. Even when I was calm my eyes were leaking tears.

The most unexpected part of the whole thing was Mrs. Potter; she was calm, smiling in thanks to the guests at the service. She accepted his passing, was at peace, and knew she wouldn't be far behind, and he would be waiting.

It took a while for James to smile again, longer to laugh, longer yet to kiss me. My eighteenth birthday came and passed. I said nothing to James, just had a party in my Head Girl dorm with my friends. Surprisingly enough, it was my turning eighteen that finally brought James around, to his full self.

Alice and I were sitting in James' classroom; I'd had a question for him so we decided to wait for him to return, browsing through his cupboards. "So when is Potter's birthday?" Alice asked.

"March 27th," I replied.

"So you've got a while to figure out an amazing present."

"I do," I mused. "Maybe I could ask subtle questions, see what he'd want. Maybe we could go to Hogsmeade and I can watch for what interests him."

"You're too nice," Alice told me. "You make presents so amazing, not minding that your fiancé forgot your birthday."

"I forgot your birthday," James' voice said, sounding surprised.

Both Alice and I jumped, not noticing him entering. "James, your father died. Birthdays are so little in comparison-"

"We're going out tonight," he told me, running his hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in that sexy, ruffled way.

"James, you really don't need to-"

"Of course I do," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe I forgot." He strode forward, capturing my head and crushing me in a bone-melting kiss. My body instantly got hot; it'd been a while, after all. I reached out and caught his robes, pulling our lower halves together, causing me to moan.

"And that's my cue," Alice said, a bit uncomfortable. "I'll lock the door on my way out."

But neither of us were paying her any attention as James picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked quickly into his office, then to his chambers. When we reached the bed, he gently set me down and pulled back.

"James," I protested as he straightened his robes, a sure sign this wasn't going any further.

"Let's save it for tonight," he suggested, looking at me with lust. "Put something nice on; you're in for a treat."

I growled, taking revenge the only way I could. I stripped down and changed into the sexiest dress I had; black and tiny, showing boobs and my curves. I pulled my hair up in a sophisticated style so my neck and collarbones would be in plain sight. He'd be on his knees begging before we even left.

That was, until I saw what he was wearing. I think a well fitted pair of dress robes is for women what lingerie is for men. My jaw nearly hit the floor as I took in James Potter, sex god. This was the best he'd looked in weeks.

"Ready to go?" He asked with a smirk and a lingering gaze at my body. This is the James I'd been missing for so long.

"Yes," I said, leading us to the fire. He stepped in first, saying something I couldn't hear, and disappeared, pulling me after him.

What would you know, another trendy pub. This one was packed with plenty of young witches and wizards, my age and above. "Go find a seat," James said over the music, in my ear. "I'll be right back."

I walked towards the bar, which was a huge oval around the bartenders' station. Dancing was all around me, and I had to wade through the throng of thrusting bodies. I spotted a pair of empty stools, so I slid into one and pulled the other closer to me.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," a voice said. I looked up to see the bartender, an attractive female, smiling at me.

"No, this is the first time I've been here," I told her.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Ashlynn," she said.

"Lily."

"You look pretty young," she said. "Here by yourself?"

"No, my fiancé is taking me out for my birthday," I said, glancing around to see if I could spot him.

"Where's your ring?" she asked curiously.

I remembered guiltily that I took it off with my chain and left it on the nightstand next to our bed. "At home; I don't wear it on a regular basis."

She slowly nodded, trying to prod an explanation, which I didn't provide. "Are you still in school?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yes, seventh year," I admitted. Usually bartenders didn't like 'schoolchildren' in their pubs.

"Ahh, it wasn't that long ago for me. Although I don't miss living in the dungeons," she said with a laugh.

"You were a Slytherin?" I asked, scrunching my nose. I thought she was friendly…bad judgment on my part.

"Hey now, don't do that. You're Gryffindor, obviously, then. You'll learn, someday, that all your prejudices about Slytherins were wrong, just like us snakes learned about your house."

"What do you mean?"

"Not all Slytherins are bad," she said, stopping what she was doing and resting her elbows on the bar.

"From what I've seen-"

"Let me finish, Lily," she said. "What's the difference between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin?"

"Bravery-"

"Rhetorical," she said with a smirk. "You know, at least from the Gryffindor perspective. However, the real difference? Both houses are brave. But there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Gryffindors rush to the rescue, headfirst into whatever. Slytherin will protect their own, just as bravely…but using their heads, their wits, their plans."

"That sounds like Ravenclaw," I protested.

"Ravenclaws are known for their wit, that's true enough. But there is a definite difference between being book smart and street smart, between trivia and common sense."

I nodded my head, starting to understand.

"The reason Gryffindor and Slytherin but heads is because they're polar opposites in thinking, not because one's better than the other. If a Gryffindor wants something, they look to the present. What can said Gryffindor do today, right now, to make a change? How can they achieve their goal, today? A Slytherin's mind works differently. They're ambitious, cunning, and will achieve their goal, fair play or not, because they would have been planning for a while, to ensure they succeed. Gryffindors fight as if they're in a sword match, Slytherins like they're in a chess battle."

"I've never looked at it that way," I admitted.

"And the only reason that dark wizards come out of Slytherin, is because at the heart of every evil plan there is ambition beyond measure."

"That makes a lot of sense," I said, realizing for the first time what she said was true. "So it's not that you're all evil, it's that we have opposite personalities…" I trailed off, thinking.

"And that's what makes Slytherins succeed, especially in the outside world. Business owners look for management, and if you're a Slytherin…unspoken brownie points, so long as you're not evil," she said with a wink.

"I feel childish," I admitted.

"It's okay," she said with a nod. "At one point or another, all Gryffindors and Slytherins learn the lesson."

James' hand was on my leg then, him scooting into the bar stool next to me. He planted a kiss on my neck and said, "I'm back."

I saw Ashlynn wink and give an appreciative grin at him, which I reluctantly returned.

We ended up the night dancing, bar hopping…and nearly tearing each others' clothes off in need. I finally had my James back.