A/N: I own nothing.
New chapter woulda been up faster but I spilled water on my laptop during finals and had to get it fixed. It has some smut so if you're opposed to that sort of thing, avert your eyes. If not, pour yourself a drink and enjoy.
It's funny how shock works in a war. You wake up every morning expecting bad news. And your expectations are more often than not confirmed as you read The Profit over breakfast, hoping this one doesn't hit too close to home. Some days, you're so relieved you nearly cry because the next death or disappearance or torture is at least a few hours away and you relish the reprieve from all that tragedy, but you know it won't last. Because in a war, tragedy is inevitable. This war wasn't declared with pomp and circumstance. It wasn't voted upon by the Wizengamont. It slithered into society like poisonous gas, barely noticeable until people started dropping dead. It brewed amongst us; from dingy alleyways to manors of the elite, inspiring hatred in some, justifying it in others. This war was born and raised in the shadows, but someday soon it will take center stage and when it does, you'll be lucky to go an hour without tragedy.
Lily was no stranger to these tragedies. She read The Profit every morning, gritting her teeth through the most unbearable of stories because ignorance isn't bliss when it's your life on the line. Ignorance isn't bliss when it threatens your already broken family. Ignorance isn't bliss in matters of life or death. She awoke every morning expecting bad news, and had since her father died. She thought she was prepared. She thought she'd thickened her skin and become more detached. Lily Evans spent every moment waiting for bad news, but she always expected it to be delivered by owl, not her roommate. Lily Evans always planned to take action, but not at 12:30 on a Friday night when she was wearing her most battered pajama bottoms. Not at seventeen. Not when she was barely holding herself together. But tragedy exists to shock and inconvenience.
'There's been an incident.' The words cycled in her head, and with each repetition she found it harder and harder to breathe. Under normal circumstances, an incident could be as harmless as a corridor full of dungbombs. But this was wartime, and everyone assumed the worst. Potter wouldn't call a prank an incident. He'd call it an inspiring display of anarchism. With each spiraling thought, her breathing got tighter and tighter, and she knew that if she didn't break the cycle soon she'd hyperventilate herself into a fainting spell. She pulled as much air into her lungs as she could, held it until it hurt, and exhaled. "Oh," she managed. It wasn't much. In fact, she scoffed at all the Gryffindor courage she was supposed to possess. If the Sorting Hat could see her now. Lily braced herself for bad news every morning, but now that it had arrived at her door, she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and bury herself away from the world. She'd had enough trauma, and knew there was only more to come.
"I don't know what's happened. But we need to go," James insisted. Eyeing her attire, he summoned a robe and held it out to her. Lily grabbed it, but didn't move to put it on. She stood still in the door frame. "Snap out of it, Evans," he hissed, summoning her trainers and dropping them on the floor in front of her. "We have to go," he raised his voice slightly. He had no idea what had happened, only that the third year who'd come running to their office had been too shaken to speak. He'd called a house elf to watch over the student until they got control of the situation. She still hadn't moved. "Evans!" He shouted, relieved when it broke her from her petrified state.
"Right," she shoved her feet into her trainers and threw the robe on, summoning her wand to her. "Right, let's go."
Lily had to half jog to keep up with James' long strides as they sped towards the staircase. He took them two at a time down to the fourth floor; Lily was still a landing away as he started down the corridor and she jogged to catch up. "Do you know what we're looking for," she gasped.
James shook his head, "The third year who reported it could barely speak, she was shaking so badly. Just said that we had to get there quickly. She probably needs to go to the hospital wing for a Calming Draught, but I didn't want to waste time getting her there, so I called an elf to watch over her."
Lily felt her heartbeat clawing up her chest and lodging in her throat. It was serious, whatever it was. They rounded a corner, and Lily saw the incident. A student lying in the middle of the corridor. James sprinted down the corridor as Lily trailed behind, unable to match his pace. She could smell the blood before she could see it in the dark corridor. The iron filled the air and she could taste it with each breath, begging herself not to throw up. James reached the body first. "Bloody hell," he gasped. "He's been sliced nearly to pieces."
When Lily finally joined him, she couldn't help the small sob that escaped her lips. This boy looked dead, simple as that. There were large gashes across his torso, and his blood had begun to pool on the floor beneath him. If someone didn't close the wounds and get a blood replenishing potion into him quickly, he'd die, if he hadn't already. Lily sunk to the floor next to James, feeling desperately for a pulse. She was close enough to see his face, to recognize his face. "Oh God," she muttered. "His name is Ryan. Ryan O'Donnell. He's a second year in Gryffindor. Muggleborn." James started to reply, but she shushed him. "I'm trying to find a pulse." His wrists were absent of pulsing, but she did finally find a pulse at his jugular. It was weak, but it was there. "Got it, he's still alive."
"We have to get him to the Hospital Wing," James stood, moving to levitate the boy.
"We can't!" Lily interjected. "He's too unstable to move. I should have thought to bring healing supplies," she cursed herself for not thinking ahead. Her inaction when James had shared the news could very well kill this boy. "You need to get to Pomphrey as quickly as possible. We need Dittany and a Blood Replenishing potion at the very least before we can try to move him." She tied her hair back, taking a deep breath before examining the body. "Get back fast. Take the Dittany and Blood Replenishing potion and run back here. Pomphrey will catch up eventually. I'm going to do whatever I can to keep him alive until you get back, but we don't have much time."
"Is it safe to leave you alone here? Whoever did this to him could come back," James hesitated.
"It's our only option. He'll bleed out faster if we try to move him. Go, James. Run!"
With a final nod, James took off down the corridor. She watched him for only a few moments before returning her eyes to the bleeding boy next to her. She flicked her want to remove his robes and oxford; the deep wounds were consolidated to his abdomen, with a few more shallow ones on his arms. "It's going to be okay, Ryan. I've got you." She took a deep breath and pushed all her feelings to the side. She needed to work. Lily conjured gauze and bandages and a large bowl, filling it with water with a hissed, "Aguamenti." There was so much blood, she was having a hard time identifying where the wounds even were, so she began cleaning his chest, using a combination of her wand and wet dressings until she could finally identify the injuries. She felt her stomach clench at the deepest wound, which spread from his left shoulder down across his chest to his lower ribs, but this was not the time to be squeamish. She'd start with that one.
Lily quickly packed the other wounds with gauze to slow their bleeding until she could get to them. Returning to the gash across his chest, she figured she should start by trying to clean it. These were magically wounds, but the change for infection was still there, and she didn't want to risk that. She knew there was a better charm specifically for cleaning wounds, but in her state she couldn't recall it. "Scourgify," she said as she traced the path of the wound. It would have to do. She racked her brain for charms to stop bleeding, and knew there was one evading her. But she didn't have time to think. Episky would be woefully inadequate for a wound of this degree, but it was better than nothing, at least until she got her bearings. She cast the charm and nearly cried when she saw it did next to nothing to close the wound. He was still losing too much blood, and the gauze she'd packed into the other wounds was quickly becoming saturated. "Fucking think, Lily!" She shouted to herself. She knew this charm. She knew that she knew it, she just couldn't remember the incantation. There was simply no time to waste, so she filled her mind with what she wanted to do, allowed the repair to take over, and with a small prayer, traced the wound with her wand. It wasn't pretty, but she had managed to accelerate the natural clotting process enough that the wound was roughly scabbed. Encouraged, she continued on with the rest of his wounds until he was no longer actively bleeding. He looked maimed, but at least he was still alive. She had no idea how much longer James would be, and she knew that Ryan was nowhere near out of the woods yet.
The scabs were flimsy, so she dressed them all, bandaging him tightly to help prevent the gashes from reopening. Now that the bleeding had been stopped, she reached to check his pulse again. It was still weak, but certainly stronger than it had been the first time she'd struggled to find it. "You're alive, Ryan," she whispered to him as she cleaned the dried blood from his hair and his face. She stroked his cheek just like her mother used to do for her when she was ill or injured. "You're safe now." He'd passed out from the bloodloss, but now that the bleeding was contained, there was a chance he could rewake. He'd be frantic and afraid, and likely to reopen his wounds. It pained her to do it, but since she didn't have any potions handy, Lily quickly stunned him. She'd lost track of time while healing, so she didn't know when to expect James and Madame Pomphrey. Not wanting to just sit and watch him, Lily performed a quick diagnostic charm. Thankfully it showed no signs of any internal injuries, but his blood volume was dangerously depleted. He needed a potion within minutes or his organs would begin to shut down. Or a transfusion… It was unorthodox, but it wasn't as if magical and non-magical anatomy varied. She'd hesitate before putting magical blood into a Muggle, but she was O-, the universal donor, and they were both Muggleborns. It could save his life. Lily thought back every time she'd had blood drawn. There was a needle and a catheter. So she conjured those items and tried to make something that resembled a double IV line. His breathing was getting slower, she had to do this. Lily grabbed her end of the line, and looked for a vein she could insert it into. The angle was off, and she hissed as she repeatedly missed her target, But it finally stuck, and she watched blood begin to flow in the tube. Satisfied, she bandaged the IV to her arm, casting a charm to block the middle of the tube until she had Ryan's side set up. His veins were difficult to find given how much blood he'd already lost. Where were they? Someone should be back by now. She loosely tournacated his arm, forcing the veins to stick out. She let out a relieved sigh as she got his needle inserted, and bandaged his arm as she'd done hers. Now, she needed gravity. Lily stood, unblocking the line so her blood could flow down into Ryan's arm. God, she prayed it would work. Realizing she was likely to faint if this went on for too long, she conjured a large armchair and sat down. There was still enough of a height difference that the blood would continue to flow. Now there was nothing more to do but wait.
James slammed the doors to the hospital wing open, shouting for Madame Pomphrey. She appeared moments later, in a dressing robe with a bonnet on her hair and a confused expression on her face. "Potter?"
"There's no time for questions, a student has been attacked. Badly injured. Lily said we need Dittany and a Blood Replenishing potion. She's there trying to keep him alive until we get back."
Pomphrey paled, "What sorts of injuries?"
"Boy was slashed to pieces. They're on the fourth floor, east corridor. Can I take the Dittany and Blood Replenishing potion and run back to them? You can follow with anything else you want to bring to treat him. And please contact some professors."
"Why didn't you just bring him here?"
"Lily said we couldn't, not without stabilizing him before. He'd lost too much blood to transport him. I don't know how much she's been able to do, she didn't have any of her healing potions with her. Which is why I need to get back there with whatever can help. No offense Pomphrey, but I'm a much faster runner than you."
"Of course," she rummaged through the cupboards. "Dittany, Blood Replenishing Potion, Probably something for clotting, and some quality bandages." She turned back to him, handing him the bag of supplies. "Run, Potter. I'll be behind you shortly with reinforcements."
James began weighing odds as he sprinted down the corridor. What were the odds he'd come across anyone until he actually approached the east corridor of the fourth floor. Was a transfiguration worth it? He did run faster, but the stairs were a little tricky with four legs and antlers. He continued to sprint ahead, afraid of what he would find when he returned. Was Lily able to save him? Did the attacker return to the scene of his crime? This could have been a set up. If whispers were to be true, there were certain sixth and seventh year Slytherins that were looking for ways to get the Death Eaters' attention. Hexing defenseless Muggleborns seems right up that alley. James took the stairs two at a time. But Lily wasn't defenseless. And that made her a real prize. He hoped a professor had already arrived. He needed to include running up stairs in their conditioning training, this was absolutely brutal. James' thighs ached and he could not catch his breath, and he was only on the third floor. One more to go. He'd never admit it, but he had to stop after exiting the staircase on the fourth floor to catch his breath for a few moments before continuing his sprint across the corridors. "Lily!" he called out, as soon as she was in sight, "I've got supplies." He skidded to a half next to her chair, finally seeing the contraption she'd devised. "What in Merlin's name is that?"
"He needed blood. We couldn't wait for you to get back with the replenishing potion. Muggles do blood transfusions. Healthy people donate a pint of blood every few months so the hospitals have blood on hand. I know my blood type is O-, which means I can donate blood to anyone. He wasn't going to make it long, so I did what I had to do. Now that you're here, I'm going to disconnect our IVs." Lily felt a little light headed, but it was definitely manageable. She pulled the needle from her arm, and re-taped the prick. She then did the same for Ryan.
"You put your blood in him?" Muggle medicine baffled James. "Isn't that dangerous?"
Lily shrugged, "Not really. You can faint if you're not too careful, but even that isn't a big problem. I'm fairly certain I don't have any bloodborne diseases, but usually donor blood is checked for that before it's put into someone else." With a flick of her wand, the bandages unwrapped. Some of his wounds had leaked slightly during the transfusion process, but he was certainly more stable than he had been before. She summoned the flask of Dittany and began applying it to his wounds, relieved when they immediately improved.
"That's…" James began, but he stopped when the sound of frantic feet filled the corridor. Finally, real adults had arrived. Dumbledore led the group, moving swiftly and purposefully, his emerald robes billowing behind him. McGonagall followed, her lips pursed so tightly they had practically ceased existing. Madame Pomphrey hobbled several paces behind, levitating a large bag of what Lily could only assume were medical supplies.
Dumbledore spoke softly, "First, I need you to explain what procedures you performed to keep young Mr. O'Donnell alive, so that Madame Pomphrey may continue from here."
"Right," Lily swallowed, her mouth feeling incredibly dry. "He was covered in blood and barely alive when we arrived. I cleaned him up to identify the wounds, and packed them with gauze so I could start with the deepest one. Episky didn't work,but I couldn't remember the incantation for healing deeper wounds, but I just sort of manifested it and then traced the wound with my wand, and it worked. They were flimsy and ugly scabs, but the bleeding stopped. I treated the rest of them and bandaged him, then did a diagnostic spell. He'd lost so much blood, I wasn't sure if he would make it until James came back with the blood replenishing potion, so I borrowed from Muggle medicine." She paused for a moment, afraid of the reaction her confession would yield. "I-I gave him a blood transfusion. That is, I put some of my blood in his body. I'm O-, which is the universal donor, and he was just running out of time. I fashioned an apparatus," she gestured to the IV coiled on the floor next to Ryan, "which transferred some of my blood to his body. His pulse grew stronger. I stunned him so I could work, but I imagine he'd wake up if we revived him. When James arrived, I stopped the transfusion, and I coated the wounds with Dittany."
"Do you need any more information, Poppy?" Dumbledore turned to her.
"No, I can take it from here."
"In that case, please return to the Hospital Wing with Mr. O'Donnell. I will meet you there shortly." Dumbledore conjured a stretcher with a flick of his wand, and levitated Ryan onto it. With a small smile towards Lily, Madame Pomphrey levitated the stretcher along with her supplies, and hurried down the corridor.
"First, I would like to thank you both for your extreme bravery and creativity tonight. You have gone far beyond the conventional duties of Head Boy and Girl protecting your fellow students, and I couldn't be more proud of the both of you. I will be awarding sixty points to Gryffindor for ingenuity and tenacity."
"The credit all goes to Lily," James interrupted. "All I did was run quickly. If I'd been left here with Ryan, he wouldn't still be alive."
"That may be true, but Miss Evans certainly would not have made it across the castle and back as quickly. It seems your skills complement each other after all."
"Potter's athleticism aside, can we please discuss what occurred here?" McGonagall insisted. "What in Godric's name happened to Mr. O'Donnell?"
"We don't know, Professor. A third year student I didn't recognize came pounding at our door. When I answered, she told me there had been an incident on the fourth floor, but she was in shock and I couldn't get her to say anything else. I called a house elf to look out for her while we investigated. She's up in our common room now." James had nearly forgotten about her in the chaos of the evening.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear about your personal relationship with our house elves," Dumbledore smiled. "But that was an excellent thought."
"Hopefully she can give us more information after a Calming Draught," McGonagall added.
"Yes, I think it's best we all return to your dormitory to assist the aforementioned student. Minerva and I will take it from here, as you two have already bared the lion's share of the incident."
"But you'll tell us what happened, won't you?" Lily stared into Dumbledore's eyes, pleading with him. So often students were left out of vital information. "I kept him alive. Not you, not Pomphrey, not any of the other Professors. Me. I kept him alive, and I deserve to know everything."
McGonagall frowned at her tone, but Dumbledore simply nodded. "Yes, I will keep you both informed. You're now a part of this, whatever this may be. You can expect my note over the coming days."
And with that, they proceeded to James and Lily's dorm.
Dumbledore and McGonagall had left with the shaking student. Her name was Melanie Adams, and she was a third year in Ravenclaw, but most of her family had been in Hufflepuff. Lily wasn't sure why it mattered, but it was one of the few coherent things she'd said. As soon as the professors had left, James summoned a bottle of Ogden's each, and they sat on opposite ends of the couch sipping their firewhiskey in silence. Lily was on her second cigarette, dragging on it as if it provided oxygen. Her hands were shaking, and she hissed as a larger tremor slopped firewhiskey down her front as she'd tried to take a swig.
"Lils," James began.
"Shut it," she snapped. "I don't want to talk. I can't talk. Don't talk to me right now."
He hesitated for a moment, weighing her request, before he evidently decided it was meaningless, "I know tonight was awful…"
"Potter," she growled, "I haven't hexed you all year, but if you speak another syllable, I will make sure you regret ever learning how to speak." He seemed to finally understand her sincerity, because he didn't make a sound. She continued to stare straight ahead; she hadn't looked at him since he'd handed her the bottle. With a final, desperate drag, she finished her second cigarette and before she'd even exhaled, a third was lit between her lips.
The silence continued to the bottom of Lily's cigarette. She was reaching for another when James spoke again. "You have to talk about this, Lily. You can't just bury it all again in booze and cigarettes. You can't shut down again like you did this summer."
Lily stood from her end of the couch and walked towards him. With little thought, she snapped her arm back and slapped him across the cheek. The sound echoed satisfyingly through the room. She watched as his hand flew to cradle his rapidly reddening cheek, but before he could speak, she jumped on him again, this time her lips crashing against his rather than her palm to his cheek. Her hands twisted into his hair as she lowered herself into his lap, trying to deepen the kiss. James kissed her back, but she could feel his hesitation; she had just slapped him. "I don't want to think, Potter," she murmured into his ear with a roll of her hips. She heard his breathing hitch with her undulation. "Make it so I can't think anymore."
James obliged her, turning to catch her lips, his hands gripping her waist tightly. They wasted no time deepening the kiss, tongues slipping between parted lips, desperate to explore each other fully. Lily kissed him with all her pain, all her fears, and James responded in kind, fueling the scorching heat between them that would burn everything else away, until all that remained was the passion between them. Lily tugged at his shirt, and James immediately assisted her, breaking the kiss momentarily to rip it off. James shivered as she ran her nails gently down his chest; she marveled every time they caught on his muscles. His hands slid up her shirt, returning their grip at her waist. Lily pulled away from James' lips, kissing the underside of his jaw, then down his neck; he hissed and dug his fingertips into her waist when she bit his collarbone. "More," she urged as she continued to nip at his neck and his hands slid up to cup her breasts. She shuddered as his thumb lightly flicked her nipple, catching his lips again. She nibbled at his lower lip, biting down as she stifled a moan when he rolled a nipple between his fingers.
James ripped her shirt off, swallowing a moan when he saw her. Lily Evans had perfect fucking tits. Absolutely perfect.
"Like what you see, Potter?" Lily gasped as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on the top of her breast. He bit her lightly in response to her comment. She hissed in pleasure. He took a nipple in his mouth and bit down hard enough to make her moan.
"You like that, Evans?" He teased in response. They were competing, after all. They were Lily Evans and James Potter, that was what they did. They teased and bickered and pushed each other to the breaking point. That was what they were known for. What they had been known for, at least. Each kiss was matched, each move countered, each moan met with a self satisfied smirk. They both leaned into the game, so desperate to leave their reality behind for a night.
She rolled against his hips in response, reveling in her victory when she felt him growing harder beneath her. They were wearing too many clothes. Lily reached down and gripped him over his flannel bottoms, feeling his length.
James' breathing stopped. Even with two layers of fabric between them, the feeling of Lily's hands on him was nearly too much to tolerate. He rolled them both over so she was seated on the couch, pulling her towards the very edge and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of her. He hooked his thumbs under her bottoms and knickers and tugged.
Lily shifted slightly so he could yank them down and she flushed nearly as deep as her hair when she caught sight of his expression. Because he was staring at her with lust burning in his eyes looking positively starved. He licked his lips and Lily couldn't decide whether she wanted to moan or clamp her legs shut in anticipation of what he was about to do. She settled on biting her lip, clenching down hard enough to draw blood as she felt his calloused hands at her knees, pushing her thighs further apart. Of all the men she'd been with, they were all desperate to get her on her knees but never wanted to return the favor. Nerves mixed with arousal and settled deep in her core, a knot that tightened with James' every move. He kissed her inner thigh softly, right by her knee; she couldn't stand to look at him, and she pressed her eyes shut. His hands slid up her outer thighs as his mouth moved upward, kissing and biting and sucking; her breathing grew gaspier. When he reached the top, James paused. Lily could feel his breath against her cunt, tickling and teasing her and she wanted more. She needed more. "Please, James." He'd won. She was begging.
"Not until you look at me," his voice was gruff. "Look at me, Lily."
She opened her eyes. He was looking up at her from between her legs, tongue between his saliva slick lips. He smirked slightly as her breathing hitched but before she could retort, he leaned forward and licked the length of her slit. All thoughts left Lily with a moan as his tongue touched her clit. He circled it lightly and she gripped the edge of the sofa cushion, fingers digging into the soft brown leather. Her anxieties had all left her, but the knot in her core simply grew, each of James' ministrations tightening it further. His lips covered her clit and he sucked lightly; Lily's hips bucked forward of their own accord. "Fuck, James." She wasn't aware of her vocalizations, but heard herself speak. Moan. Whimper under his touch. He slid a calloused digit inside of her and her hands moved from the cushion to his soft curls, tangling her fingers in them. The addition of his finger was nearly too much to bear as he continued to lap at her. He added a second finger, pumping in and out of her and the knot tightened. Stretched. With a final flick of his tongue, she shuddered and it finally snapped. Lily clenched around him, a stream of moans and profanity falling from her lips until she fell back against the sofa. Her limbs felt heavy, as if they were no longer a part of her body.
"You taste incredible." He stood, leaning forward and lifting her from the sofa, carrying her to his bedroom and tossing her onto his bed.
"You're awfully good at that." Lily had finally regained the ability to speak and James stepped out of his flannels and pants, his erection no longer hindered by clothing. He climbed on top of her and kissed her. She could taste herself on his tongue. She reached down between them and traced his length lightly with her fingertips. "I want to take you in my mouth," she gripped him and he moaned. "Show you what I can do with my mouth." James panted in her ear as she pumped her hand up and down his cock.
"Next time," he gasped. "I just want to be inside of you. Are you protected?"
Lily nodded, and James hitched one of her legs up. She aligned him at her entrance, and he slid into her. They both moaned. He began to slowly move inside of her, and the fullness she felt sent a shiver down her spine. She reached up and pulled James' face towards hers, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace. "More," she hooked her other leg around him. "Give me more, James."
"You're so fucking tight," he moaned as he slammed into her harder. Lily felt the knot grow as he quickened his pace. "Feels so bloody good." He kissed down her neck, biting and sucking as he thrusted. The smacking of naked skin against naked skin joined their moans as they both began to unravel. With a shudder, James groaned her name, and collapsed beside her.
"You're definitely the best roommate I've ever had," he joked before they both fell asleep.
Lily rolled over in the unfamiliar bed, careful not to wake James. She thought it was probably the first time in their months of living together than she'd awoken before him. She'd never been fond of unfamiliar beds, and James seemed supernaturally warm, resulting in her uncharacteristically early awakening. She sat up slowly, trying not to wake him, and tiptoed out of his room. She cast a silencing charm on the bathroom and stepped into a steaming shower.
Once back in her own room, she dressed quickly. It was still early, but she knew she had to do this before she over thought it. Before reason and self preservation got the best of her. She hurried from their shared dorm, hoping that James didn't assume the worst when he awoke to her gone. She should have left a note. Last night had been… Godric, she hardly had words to describe what last night had been like. Brilliant, and intense, and passionate, and overwhelming. And scary. Because last night had given Lily everything she'd been trying to feel, and now that she had it, she didn't know what she would do without it. She pushed those thoughts from her mind as she continued to race across the castle. She had to do this.
She paused outside the entryway to the Hospital Wing. Caring for Ryan had been the most terrifying experience of her life. She doubted whether or not she truly had what it took to experience that day after day. This was a war, she knew Ryan's injuries would seem tame compared to what she would see in the future if she continued on this path. But she had saved him, Lily reminded herself. She had saved him and she could save others. With that thought, she pushed the double doors apart.
Madame Pomphrey was leaning over the only occupied bed. "Miss Evans," she said with as close to a smile as the middle-aged witch was capable of. "He's doing well."
"Has he woken up yet?"
"It should be anytime, now. I gave him a potion last night which will be wearing off shortly."
Lily looked down at him. He looked so young to her. Twelve was so young. It seemed like much more than five years ago to her. He was too young to have something so terrible happen to him. But she knew children much younger than Ryan were enduring far worse. "I wanted to be here when he woke up," Lily explained. "He knows me. I sat next to him at lunch one day when my mates were annoying me. We chatted a bit. He's just a kid, you know? He's just a boy."
"You're all just children, Miss Evans."
"I know," she said glumly, trying to push back the tears forming in her eyes. "But it's a war and the other side doesn't care that we're just kids. I saved Ryan, but barely. I hardly knew what I was doing. I want to know what I'm doing next time. And don't lie to me and say that there won't be a next time because we both know that's not the case. The world outside of Hogwarts is getting darker by the day, and that darkness is starting to infiltrate the castle. Ryan is proof of that. I want to be prepared. So, I need you to teach me. To train me. I want to be your apprentice, Madame Pomphrey. I've thought about being a Healer, but who knows what the world will be like once I leave Hogwarts. If I'll be able to enroll in St. Mungo's programme. So I need to learn as much as I possibly can while I'm still at Hogwarts."
Pomphrey smiled sadly at her because she was right. This was wartime, and as much as she wanted to tell the young woman in front of her that she was being dramatic and there was no need for such action, she knew that wasn't true. "Alright, Miss Evans. I'll train you. But I understand you're taking six NEWTs, and if I hear your grades are slipping in any of your courses, that will be the end of this."
Lily nodded, "And I'd like to continue my potions work with Professor Slughorn. We're currently working on some more advanced healing potions."
"That would be best. I'll leave you with Mr. O'Donnell for now. Since he does know you, a familiar face may calm him. Come and fetch me once you've explained everything to him, and we'll do his diagnostics and healing together." Madame Pomphrey shut the curtains around Ryan's bed, and Lily sat down in the chair next to him. As she heard Pomphrey's footsteps back towards her office, she took Ryan's hand in hers and waited for him to wake up.
A/N: I am not great at writing sex stuff so sorry if that whole thing is cringy and unreadable but I tried my best. This story isn't going to be super smutty, but I felt like their first fuck had to go into detail. Now I'm not going to hold more updates hostage or anything, but reviews are incredibly motivating, and I want some. Give them to me.