Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and none of her characters are mine. Sigh. On a more positive note, thank you, thank you, thank you to all those lovely people who reviewed - we reached 150! It truly made my day. I take great pleasure in awarding the metaphorical cookies for 150th reviewer to Laveycee! I'm also hugely grateful to my amazing beta Black Rose Blue and to all the fantastic readers who have favourited/alerted this story. In case you didn't realise, I love you all! So, without further ado, enjoy the next chapter.

In the aftermath of the meeting, everyone was a little quiet. Admittedly, this calm was punctuated by bursts of excited planning; but, on the whole, it was a sombre group of Gryffindors that wandered through the castle over the next few weeks. Truthfully, they had a lot on their minds. The war had never seemed so real, or so frightening, and they struggled to come to grips with the enormity of their actions. The barman's morbid words seemed to ring in their ears, and it was difficult to ignore his infectious pessimism.

Lily was certain they were doing the right thing, but she worried for her friends. Marlene was still withdrawn and Remus seemed intent on ostracising himself. She received no confirmation of his suspected werewolf status, but his reaction to Hestia's report was fairly damning. He had missed a few days of school around the full moon, too, ostensibly to visit his mother, and had returned wan and unresponsive. It was clear he had been doing some thinking, and repeatedly attempted to distance himself from their group. It bothered Lily immensely, and she wished Remus would confess the truth. However, she understood his reticence. Besides the Marauders, for there was no way he could've hidden it from them, Lily doubted he'd told anyone. Her heart ached for him and she wished there was something she could do. Thankfully, the boys appeared to have stopped this behaviour and soon Remus rejoined their group discussions, albeit reluctantly.

However, as with most things, distraction arrived. Unfortunately, it was a distraction Lily could have done without. For a variety of reasons.

Walking through the corridors, lost in preoccupied thoughts, Lily drew her robes closer together. It was February, and the castle still felt the weather's icy sting. She shivered, stuffing her hands in her pockets, and debated whether to cast a warming charm. She was shivering and seriously considered ignoring Filch's policy about magic in the corridors. Coming to a decision, for it really was cold, the Head Girl began to cast the spell.

But as she raised her wand, beginning to mutter the enchantment she - quite unexpectedly - heard her own name. She froze, although not from the cold. She knew that voice.

Feeling like a small child, Lily crept up to the classroom and placed an ear to the lock. She could've sworn the words had drifted from that room and was intensely curious. Sure enough, James' angry tones could be heard through the metal and wood.

"You want me to tell her? Are you mad? She'll kill me!"

"Well," drawled an unsympathetic voice, "you should have thought of that before you agreed to this." Lily felt her heart stutter. Why was James talking to Sawyer like that? And why had her name been invoked? Dread began to seep into her consciousness and, despite knowing the pitfalls of eavesdropping, Lily couldn't pull herself away. She was rooted to the spot.

"I thought you knew what you were doing," replied James plaintively. Lily couldn't see him, but she imagined him running his hand through his hair. As her stomach swooped at the thought, Lily spared a moment to acknowledge how pathetic she was. In the space of six months, James Potter had turned the hated gesture into something rather attractive. Even as these thoughts swept through her mind, Lily winced, accepting her pitiable position. Hurriedly, she returned her attention to the conversation.

And felt her stuttering heart stop.

"Lily's got to know about it, James. At some point, she's going to find out about our relationship. The truth, mind, not the story we've concocted. No relationship can be based on lies." Upon hearing this, Lily experienced the very strong desire to flee the scene, yet she couldn't bring herself to move. Her thoughts were a jangled mess.

One thing was clear, though. Sawyer and James' break-up had not been as simple as she had supposed. In fact, it was sounding increasingly complex. Questions chased themselves around Lily's brain, her entire being turning cold at their implications. Were Sawyer and James still together? The conversation certainly suggested it, but why had they lied in the first place? Angry tears began to form in the corner of Lily's eyes as a thought she hadn't entertained in months crossed her mind.

He knew.

The despair she had felt on the previous occasion returned, with a ferocity that took her breath away. Had this all been a ploy, then, to stop a jealous Lily ruining James' precious relationship with precious Sawyer? Had all those special moments, that kiss, meant nothing to James? Steeling herself, and quite forgetting her earlier qualms, Lily continued to listen.

"But... but she's going to be hurt... angry..." James seemed to have trouble forming sentences, and Lily experienced a surge of savage glee. She was glad he felt guilty. She was not naturally vindictive, but if the pair had been stringing her along… Well, there was a reason redheads were reputed to have a sharp temper and Lily, at that moment, embodied it. Apparently Sawyer agreed with Lily's irritation, because there was a rather cynical chuckle.

"Oh, James," she said, tone demonstrating amusement. "You didn't think you could get away with not telling her, did you?"

"I hoped," mumbled James, clearly uncomfortable at Sawyer's mockery. Not for the first time, Lily questioned his involvement with the brunette. Any fool could see that he was better than that! But these thoughts led down a dangerous road, and Lily wasn't ready for it. Instead, she listened to Sawyer's parting words.

"If Lily is half the witch you claim she is, then she'll understand. After all," Sawyer's laugh was derisive, "she does seem rather smitten with you." Lily's simmering anger seemed to explode at this and, tears pouring down her face, she tried to flee.

But as Fate would have it, and in cruel imitation of that night in the Astronomy Tower, Lily tripped over a suit of armour. With an almighty crash, Lily went flying, crumpling to the floor. She hit her head on the cold, flagstones and small lights seemed to flicker before her eyes. Her skull felt as though it was splitting and the smallest movement caused her great pain. Every part of her mind was urging to run - an ominous silence had fallen in the other room - but her body objected strenuously. Resignedly, sight slightly blurry, she squinted at the door. Her head was pounding and her anger, temporarily muted, was returning. She felt stripped of her inhibitions and was quite prepared to give James Potter a piece of her mind.

She didn't have to wait long.

With a sickening sense of déjà vu, Lily watched James exit the classroom. His words, when they came, were achingly familiar.

"Are you... Lily?" James' shock was palpable. "What... What are you doing here?"

A million caustic responses were on the tip of Lily's tongue, but her brain was oddly sluggish and she contented herself with a scowl. James peered at her, concern etched upon his handsome face. When an answer was not forthcoming, James rephrased his earlier question.

"Are you alright?"

"Besides the fact I've fallen on my arse?" asked Lily, trying to remain calm. Now, the words seemed to trip from her tongue, beyond her control and ready to start a fight. James looked mildly shocked at her language, but realised there were more pressing issues.

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, "besides that." He began shifting his weight from side to side, fidgeting under her unyielding glare.

"Well," began Lily, with awful sarcasm, "there is the small manner of my best friend keeping secrets from me."

James' face turned ashen. Still handsome, he looked pale and with great difficulty he managed to choke out a reply. Looking from the door to Lily, a dawning realisation seemed to occur.

"You... You heard?"

"Yes, I heard," Lily snarled, throwing aside all pretence. Her feeling of betrayal was palpable. "I know all about you and Sawyer, James! Why did you lie to me? I thought we could trust each other with anything, anything - didn't we learn anything from the bloody Severus debacle?" James' eyebrows rose at her uncharacteristic swearing, but he wisely refrained from interrupting her. She didn't know why, but the connection between her brain and mouth seemed entirely faulty and she couldn't stop the words tumbling from her. "But," she continued bitterly, "I guess Sawyer's more important, huh?"

"No, I… just, no… Lily," stuttered James, his anxiety palpable. "It's not like that, I swear-"

"Yeah, because your word is worth so much these days," sneered Lily. What was the matter with her? She was furious and hurt, and quite rightly so. But she didn't mean the things she said and her mouth, once again, seemed to be working of its own accord. Her head was still aching and she struggled to focus on what James was saying. His eyes were flashing, and he looked almost hurt.

"You don't mean that," he said softly, as though willing it to be true. "You can't mean that." For a moment, Lily wavered and her mind felt clearer. But then another wave of pain hit, and she gave a taut nod. Flooded by anger, Lily clambered to her feet and made to leave the scene. She walked a few steps. Images of James and Sawyer flashed before her eyes, each picture more compromising than the last, and her heart tightened.

She wobbled.

Suddenly, the world began to spin. Her legs started to give way and her surroundings seemed to blur. The suit of armour became a silvery line and James' face slid out of sight. With a small cry, she hit the floor, limbs splayed. Something was terribly wrong with her head and she was vaguely conscious of concerned voices in an awful cacophony of noise. On some level, she realised she'd fallen harder than she'd thought.

"I didn't mean it," she muttered blindly, over and over again. She didn't know where she was or what was happening, but she knew she had to say it, had to tell him.

"I know," someone whispered. The sense of déjà vu was strong once more, mysterious arms wrapping themselves around her body, and Lily never wanted to lose this sense of security. She grabbed wildly at her protector and refused to let go, grasping handfuls of material.

Blackness was crawling at the edges of her vision and Lily, safe in those arms, knew it was alright to embrace it.

So she did.

A/N: Please, don't hate James! I promise there is more to the story than meets the eye...