There was so much to do.

James had not realized his Head Boy duties would turn out to be so time-consuming, but they were. Between classes, Quidditch practice, prefect rounds, homework and meetings after meetings after meetings, he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

The time when he could collapse on a couch in the common room and just relax with his friends was long gone. He barely saw the boys outside of classes, and when he got to his dorm, late in the evenings, he was so exhausted he fell asleep the second his head brushed against the pillow.

The weight of a thousand responsibilities sat on his chest, night and day. It made it hard to breathe sometimes, without fearing his lungs would collapse and his ribs would crack from the pressure.

He had to be an example. And it terrified him.

He had to act like he knew everything, like he could protect everyone, like he wasn't just a kid in over his head, overwhelmed and scared.

He was great at it.

Concealing his true feelings, he had been great at it for the better part of a decade and this skill came in handy much too often. At the breakfast table, when the newspapers brought nothing but tales of death and torture, he was great at pretending his heart wasn't racing inside his chest. When he patrolled the corridors with the younger prefects after dark, he was great at acting brave. Hiding his shallow breath behind a facade of faked confidence.

And when one day in class, a spell rebounded just a little loudly than it should have, he was great at pretending his hand hadn't jumped to his wand, ready to defend and protect those around him from an attack that wasn't real.

He was scared, all the time, and he couldn't let it show.

The one thing that kept him sane was Lily.

The way she held his hand and squeezed it just so. How she never seem scared, no matter how dark the night, how loud the noise. The way the worried crease on her forehead smoothed over when she looked at him. How she stood on her tiptoes to run her fingers through his hair.

James had never been more tired, he had never been more scared, and he had never been so happy.

It was the strangest feeling but he couldn't help it.

When his nerves were in a knot, when the air was rare, when he felt as if his heart was being clutched by a giant iron hand, he could just look at Lily and know everything was going to be okay. Because he had made the impossible happen. She had been his impossible for years and now she kissed him, in the quiet nights of patrols.

So maybe another impossible thing could happen. Maybe the war could stop. Maybe it could just die down without making any more casualties, maybe the Dark Lord could surrender, the Death Eaters realize they were wrong, maybe everything could be okay.

James prayed for the impossible every night.

And with Lily, he rebuilt the world, one step at a time. She had so many ideas, so many plans for the future. She was passionate about everything and there were stars in her eyes when she talked about what could be, if only. She often talked about uniting the Wizarding World and the Muggle Word. She didn't understand why there was such a rift between the two.

She opened her arms wide when she talked, she walked backward to look at James in the eye and she only paused to catch her breath.

The world she described was so beautiful James often caught himself dreaming about it. She wanted peace. She wanted unity and harmony, and she would stop at nothing to make it happen.

She was stubborn and she pursed her lips sometimes when James pointed out the flaws in her logic. But she listened to him and counteracted and listened to him some more.

Despite his level of exhaustion, James wanted those nights to never end. When they patrolled together, it felt as if they had the castle just to themselves, as if they were alone in the world.

Sometimes they were alone in the world. Like when Lily dragged him into a closet and pressed her lips against his. One step at a time, they reinvented love in dark corners of the castle, finding comfort in each other's warmth, growing so tall they were limitless.

They were all alone in the world that night, until a quiet knock on the door tore them apart from each other. Lily jumped to her feet and adjusted her skirt while James desperately tried to tame his hair Lily's hands had messed up.

When the door opened on a stone-faced McGonagall, they stood as far apart as the narrow space allowed them, red and panting, lips burning, trying their hardest to maintain a dignified expression. But McGonagall didn't bat an eye at James' tie on the ground, nor did she seem to notice Lily's flushed cheeks.

"Miss Evans, if you would please follow me," she said sternly, with a nod in Lily's direction.

"Professor," James interrupted. "If you're looking for someone to punish it should be me, it was my idea to stop the rounds to look for..." He raised his head and grabbed the first time he could find. "Cleaning supplies."

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, neither of you shall be punished for this..." She gestured vaguely at the inside of the closet where James and Lily were still standing. "Incident. Professor Dumbledore simply wishes to talk to Miss Evans."

James turned to look at Lily and she looked back at him with an equal amount of confusion in her eyes.

"It concerns your family," McGonagall added, with another small nod towards Lily, who stiffened and nodded back. "Professor Dumbledore is waiting in my office, you can meet him there."

"Can James come with me?" The scared tremble in Lily's voice broke James' heart. Lily was never scared. She was angry sometimes, annoyed often, but never scared.

"Yes."

Why wasn't McGonagall smiling? Why was she clutching her hands together like this, why wouldn't she raise her head?

She started walking and James and Lily followed. In silence the whole way. Lily held out her hand for James to take and he squeezed it as gently as he could, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand, trying to provide, with his simple presence, a sense of reassurance.

When they arrived in front of McGonagall's office, James wanted to scream. He didn't want to go in. Because that room was the room where he had learned about Mary's death. Those walls were the same walls that had closed in on him and that floor was the same floor where Marlene had collapsed and screamed. That door was the last door he had pushed before receiving the worst news of his life.

At the threshold, Lily had the same movement of hesitation.

But it was not the same, because it was Dumbledore, waiting for them inside. And it was not the same, because they themselves were different. Stronger. It was not the same because they were together, and because they had hope for the future.

The room was in half-darkness, only lit by the flickering flames of the fireplace, and James couldn't quite make out the details. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps either McGonagall or Dumbledore knew what this room meant to both James and Lily.

The Headmaster was sat in a high-backed chair, behind the desk. The gold embroidered in his red robes glistened back the light of the fireplace, as if it were moving. The dark was not enough to hide the severeness of his expression.

"Please, sit."

They sat immediately. James didn't let go of Lily's hand. It was hard to breathe.

"Miss Evans," Dumbledore started. "The school's administration has just received a very troubling letter from your sister. While we do not yet know the details of what happened, we believe it is best that you go home to be with her."

Lily nodded faintly.

"You can leave tonight, using the Floo network from this office," continued Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter, you can return to your dorm. Professor McGonagall will finish the rounds."

"I'm going with her." James had spoken without thinking and the words sounded sharper than they should have.

Lily got up and he imitated her, before freezing when Dumbledore raised his hand as a signal to stay put.

"As I am sure you understand, the Head Boy and Head Girl cannot both leave Hogwarts for a yet undetermined period of time. I am sure Miss Evans will let you know of any developments you might need to be aware of."

Standing in front of the fireplace, Lily looked at James. Her face was paler than it had even been and she had to hold on to the mantel with such force her knuckles had turned white.

Even though she was looking straight at James, her eyes were glazed over and she wasn't really seeing him. This alone was enough for James to dismiss any attempts anyone would make to stop him from leaving the school with her.

"Then you can just make Remus the Head Boy while I'm gone," he said precipitately.

"The full moon is two nights away," replied the Headmaster. His tone was calm and matter-a-fact, and his piercing blue eyes held James' stare with a strength that was almost nonchalant.

"Then anyone else will do fine! Sirius!" James yelled, and he slapped his hand on the desk with perhaps a little too much force. "Peter! Anybody! I don't know and I don't care! But I'm not staying. If Lily is leaving, then I'm leaving too."

"I admire your loyalty, Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid..."

"Albus," McGonagall interrupted. James had forgotten she was standing right behind him and her voice erupting from the darkness made him jump. She took a step forward and placed her hands on the desk. "Let the boy go."

In front of her, Dumbledore closed his eyes. For the first time in James' life, he saw the Headmaster for who he truly was. An old man. Exhausted by the war, and by the rebellion everybody knew he was planning.

James had always admired Dumbledore, for as long as he could remember. He admired his strength and his wisdom, and how he somehow always seemed to know the right thing to do.

"Fine," Dumbledore said. "You can go."

James had always admired Dumbledore. Today was no exception. Today he admired him not for his strength, but for his weaknesses, his errors, the things that made him human.

"Thank you," James said, before stepping back and following Lily in the green, roaring flames.

When stepping out of the fireplace on the other side, his eyes took a while to get used to the light. There was much more noise than he had expected, and took him a full second to understand that they were not in the Evans' home, but in Hogsmeade, at the Three Broomsticks.

Before James could have time to shake off the initial surprise, Lily took his hand and led him outside. The air was cold and biting, and neither of them had thought to bring their capes or scarves.

"What- Wher-... Lily, where are we going?"

"We're Apparating," she said. She seemed to have gathered her strength and she looked much more alert than she had in McGonagall's office. "My sister would have a heart attack if we came in through the chimney instead of the front door."

"But I don't know where we're going."

"I'm taking you. Side-along." She took his arm and pulled him closer to her, reaffirming her grasp on his wrist.

"Have you done this before?" James asked, trying not to fidget nervously.

"No," said Lily. "Do you trust me?"

He did.

"I do."

"Then let's go."

The last thing James felt before the air was violently pushed out of his lungs was Lily's hand squeezing his.