A/N: if you look up 'theesteemedladydebourgh' on spotify, I have a JHF playlist for all the s(ex)y vibes!

I'm also theesteemedladydebourgh on tumblr, come say hello and tell me your thoughts/theories!

The First Night

They're just lying together now. Her chin bumping against his, her hand at his stomach.

He'd found another bottle of Firewhiskey in the room following their shag and her head is pleasantly buzzed once again. She feels her fingers vividly, the feeling of his chest beneath them. Muscle, warm skin, the faint trail of hair. His breath, rising and falling.

"Admit it," James says, voice rumbling beneath her ear. "You still wanted to shag me."

"No, I didn't," Lily says stubbornly. "You're just—attractive, is all."

"That's wanting to shag me, Evans."

What happened to 'call me James'? she wants to ask, and then she resists the urge to laugh to herself at the ridiculousness of it all. "No, that's thinking you're attractive enough to fuck."

He snorts and rolls over, propping his head on his bent elbow. Her hand falls to the cool sheets. "Explain the difference."

"Wanting to shag someone is…I like you, so I want to fuck you," Lily says. "And I don't like you. At all. You make me want to strangle something. Preferably you."

"Sounds like you need to invent a new set of terminology for sex," James says with a raised brow, smarmy and smirking. "Person I want to fuck because you're fit, but not because I like you is a mouthful." He chuckles and stretches his arm back, lounging against the pillow. "And just think of all the other things you could be using your mouth for…"

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Lily returns. She's starting to feel dizzy and the very definitive feeling that she won't remember this in the morning. She's okay with that though, because she'd hate herself for this. For talking with him like this.

James pauses, eyes darting down to her mouth. His eyes darken. "I would," he says and his voice is low. "I really would."

Lily hums. "Too bad. You're not getting it." She rolls onto her back, laughs a little when he groans, then his arm is slipping around her waist.

His mouth brushes against her shoulder, tracing kisses all over her skin. He moves slow, just gently exploring, then his fingers lock gently around her wrists as they press against the sheets. "Do you want to go again?" he whispers into her neck. His thumb stroking against the sensitive skin of her wrist, making her body flush with want. "A…we're both attractive, so let's fuck, fuck."

Lily swallows a laugh and twists to look at him. He's still holding her wrists, so she kisses him instead of touching. "No," she breathes. Her head swims, her words come out without thinking. Like she's dropped back into seventh year. Saying what she would've said then, a different Lily sliding into the one she is now. She's okay with that too though, because she doesn't want to be this Lily. She doesn't want to feel bad, or angry, or sad. "Let's…" she trails off, then shifts her wrist out his grip and runs her fingers down his cheek. His eyes on her, bare without his glasses.

Oh, she used to think the entire world started and ended with him.

His chin dips. "Okay," he whispers and kisses her. "Okay, baby."

His hand slides between her legs, teasing her, then her head spins, the room spins, she's on all fours, back arched. He's behind her, cock slipping between her thighs. His fingers gripping her hips. The moaning, the gasping. The feeling. Hard strokes, falling apart. An I-miss-you-fuck.

The questions linger beneath her skin when she's crying out his name. The past, whether or not he…whether she meant something to him, and if she did…why didn't he care enough to defend her?

She's going to ask him.

JAMES

19 February, 2008

The day after the prefect's meeting James grabs Olivia's arm when she's walking down the empty fifth floor corridor, and tugs her into a hidden alcove.

She makes a sharp yelp of surprise, but James lets go of her as soon as they're situated and turns to face her. The map had handily located her out of sight of anyone else, though Sirius had given him hell over why he wanted to use it.

"James—" her voice is confused.

He doesn't play around with false greetings. His shoulders are tense. "Stop this shit now," he snarls. "I mean it, Olivia."

Olivia blinks at him and steps back. "I don't know what you're talking about—" she tries to scoff.

"Don't give me that bullshit!" James snaps. The anger that's been burning in his gut all morning has simmered over, taking control of his voice and thought. "I know—"

"I didn't do anything," Olivia cries. Her face begins to waver suddenly, guilt flickering in her eyes. "Okay, I just—I told some mates a bit because I was hurt about you and her and they went off with it, okay?"

Confirmation. Fuck.

"Well, make them stop," James says sharply. "It's—I can't believe you—"

"I'm sorry," Olivia says and steps in closer. Her eyes are wide and pleading. "Really, I didn't mean for it—I was just so angry and hurt and I wanted her to feel like that—"

"She doesn't deserve to feel like that!"

"And I do?" Olivia's voice shakes.

James's voice cuts off. "No, of course, that's not—" He closes his eyes, shakes his head. "Livvy, I can't keep apologizing for hurting you. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry you're still hurt. But you're going after someone I love and—"

Olivia flinches. "You love her?" Her voice is quiet.

James stops talking abruptly. Something like panic riots in his chest. Lily. "I—it doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," Olivia says. "You love her, and you didn't love me."

James closes his eyes. Fuck, he hates the truth sometimes. Because if he had to pick…Merlin, he's picking Lily. Of course he is, because he wants to be with her because of her, not because of obligation, which was always the problem with Olivia. But these ugly truths aren't things he wants to say to her, or to anyone. "I'm sorry," is all he says. "You can be angry at me, but—please leave her alone."

"I didn't start the—the blood status thing," Olivia says. "I just—"

James's jaw clenches tight. "I know," he says and exhales. He's only seen Slytherins talking about it, and not very many. The cheating rumors have been more rampant. "Just…please stop with this whole I cheated on you thing, because we both know it's not true! I'm begging you."

Olivia is quiet, then her chin ducks down. Her eyes are red.

He's angry with her, but he doesn't want to be. He…he just wants it to be over. Those Slytherin pricks will slither back to their hole and the gossiping students will forget about the cheating scandal when Olivia's mates stop spreading it around. Then things will go back to normal. "Olivia—"

"Okay," she interrupts him. She looks up and swallows. "I'll stop."

James's shoulder slump. "Thank you," he says and he actually means it.

Olivia nods silently, then grabs her bag and leaves the alcove.

LILY

24 December, 2018

Night has completely fallen when the train arrives in Wexford, which is a rambling coastal city dripping in historical landmarks (if Lily's very vague memories from primary school hold any weight).

"No way we're getting a boat to England tonight," James says grimly as they walk through the small station. The weather is sharply cold again now that they've left the stale warmth of the train and Lily shivers, buttoning up her coat.

"Hotel then?" Lily asks, glancing around at the cold, snowless street in front of them. "Get a boat first thing, and be home in time for Christmas lunch."

James nods, then glances around. "How do we…uh, find one?"

Lily rolls her eyes, swallowing a laugh and pulls out her phone. "Wizards," she mutters as she opens Maps and types in hotels near here. A few pop up a ways away and she frowns.

"Here, let's get a cab," she says and doesn't think before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the side of the pavement. She feels a brief spark, but doesn't let go. The warmth of his hand is nice, actually.

She's going to try to stop thinking about Olivia. Being angry about it…it's in the past, and James's words after their hook up in the toilets have slightly soothed her injured feelings. Which…toilets. Yeah. She's definitely not telling anyone about that. Taking it to her grave.

And for the first time in ten years, Lily doesn't feel angry about their break up. What they're doing is fun and she's realizing how much she'd missed it. Missed him.

She and James pile into a the back seat of a cab—thankfully it's driven by a very silent man with a beard who just grunts when she gives him the address of the hotel and punches it into his phone GPS—and Lily exhales.

James's legs bump against hers and she glances up, smiling automatically.

He's looking at her too and he reaches down to re-lace their fingers together. He squeezes once.

Lily's cheeks flush. Her phone buzzes at that moment and she glances down to see a text from—oh, Edinburgh area code. She really needs to save Dorcas's number—

She does that, then swipes to read the text.

You're welcome for my help with getting you laid. I foresee thanks coming in any second

Lily scowls, tilting the phone so James can't see and uses her free hand—this whole thing is slightly awkward since her left one is still tucked in his—to type a response.

Fuck off. How did you learn to use emojis?

😌 nifty thing called google, bub. I'm a fast learner. Have you shagged him yet?

Lily rolls her eyes. In the five hours since we last talked? NO.

That is plenty of time for at least two rounds. I'm being generous with him because you've given me a good sense for his stamina level.

STOP talking about his stamina. He's right next to me.

Again?

We're…holding hands.

You—!

Is this better or worse than shagging for you? You know, on your personal, invasive scale of my intimate life.

better. It means you're not in denial.

I was never in denial! It's fun. we're just having fun.

oh. So you're still in denial.

Fuck off.

DENIAL.

Turning the phone off now byeee

DENIALDENIALDENIAL

Lily clicks it off and straightens, dropping it to her lap. It continues to buzz, but she doesn't pick it up.

James chuckles. "Is there a reason that thing is trying to vibrate itself off of your lap?" His voice is amused and the word vibrate in his voice gives her a terrifically terrible, amazing idea that—

Damn her for not bringing that little toy with her, though in her defense she hadn't thought she'd need it while on vacation at her parents.

"Dorcas is being ridiculous," she says, hoping he can't see how red her cheeks are in the dim light. Headlights periodically flash through the windows as the cab makes its way into the city.

James squeezes her hand again and laughs softly. "Well, alright, then," he says.

The hotel is shabby and run by a bored looking woman with pink hair sitting behind the counter, but Lily still sighed with relief when she and James stepped into the simple, though thankfully clean, room. Showers were had, clothes was changed, calls were made to her worried mum and dinner was procured from downstairs, then Lily finds herself sitting cross-legged on the squeaky bed in nothing but her T-shirt and knickers.

James is sitting across from her in one of the armchairs, similarly attired—pajama bottoms with nothing underneath, based on the way the thin material is clinging, shirtless—while he finishes off the plastic packaged chocolate mousse they managed to find.

"Well," he muses and eyes the spoon, then thoroughly wrecks her concentration by licking it. "Not bad, I'd say."

Lily laughs, leaning back on her elbows. "Are we starting a rating system? Food on the go."

"Road trip essentials," James says with mock bravado. "A how-to guide from two seasoned veterans."

Lily holds up a finger. "Step one: run into your ex."

James smirks. "Step two: shag your ex."

Lily groans. "Step three: do not marry your ex," she says. "Very bad idea, very poor decision."

James laughs, but then he shrugs a bit. "Eh, it hasn't turned out so bad for us, has it?" he muses and gives her a glance. "I mean, I could do worse for a wife."

Lily's body warms. "No, it's not so bad," she says. "I could probably also do worse for a husband."

A lot worse, in fact—she's not sure that she could do better. Well, in certain areas at least.

James's lips twitch. "Thanks," he says. "Much appreciated ego stroke."

Lily scoffs. "As if you need it—"

"Well, I don't need it, but it's quite nice every now and then. Boosts the confidence."

"Again, you really don't need your confidence boosted."

"Nonsense," James dismisses. "Now, I think we ought to write this down. We might be onto something here with a—hang on, do you have a quill?"

"Pen," Lily says, rolling her eyes. A laugh still slips out. "And paper. It's in my purse."

James stands, placing the empty mousse cup on the window ledge and goes over to her purse, sitting innocuously on a table. He begins to rifle through it. "You'll see, we'll author a bestseller—travel advice and sex tips, it'll be a goldmine."

"Sex tips? James, no, we are not writing a sex manual—"

"But we're so good at it! Just think of all the mind-blowing pleasure we're denying the world by not teaching them our tricks. In fact—" James's voice suddenly cuts off and he pauses, bent over her purse.

Lily's brows flick up. "James?"

He straightens slowly, still silent, and turns to face her. In his hand are a collection of glossy photographs.

Lily's stomach clenches. Oh. "Oh," she says. "Uh, those are—"

"Us." James's voice is quiet and he slowly walks over to the bed where he sits down next to her. The mattress sinks beneath his weight and he turns over the top picture—the two of them curled up in the Gryffindor common room, laughing at each other—to glance at the back for a date. It's blank.

"Yeah," Lily says. She's sitting up more now, shifting to look at them over his shoulder. "I…I found them in a box in my flat. Mum wanted me to bring some old pictures to make a scrapbook for Tuney's wedding, so I just grabbed the boxes marked pre-2010 and took them. I didn't…" her voice fades out as James slips the one of them in the common room off the pile and reveals the one below it. It's sixth year, she can clearly see that. Her, Marlene and Peter in the courtyard. James cut off in the corner, his flailing arm blocking half the frame. Lily can see herself rolling her eyes one second, then bursting into laughter the next behind his hand.

James's lips quirk and he glances up at her. He doesn't look upset or sad, he just looks…like James. "I don't even remember what this was for," he says.

Lily shrugs. "Me either," she says and peers closer. Her chin brushes against his shoulder. "It was a long time ago."

"We were happy." His voice is soft. He thumbs through the pictures. They're laughing more than they're not, faces a decade or more younger. Tangled together some of the time, with other people too. A few of her and Marlene in fifth year at a raging common room party.

Lily drops her chin against his shoulder. "Yeah," she says and leans her head against his. "We were."

They look at the pictures for a few more minutes, James silently shifting through the years, then he sighs and sets them aside. "Well," he says and shifts, dislodging her from his shoulder. He briefly frowns, as if he didn't mean to do it, and his hand shifts to brush against her knee. "We should get to bed soon. It's getting late."

Lily exhales too, feeling like the tension is still swirling around inside her. But…it's not a bad tension. Far from it. But it's tension nonetheless. "Yeah," she says softly. "Let's go to bed."

She brushes her teeth, James turns out all the lights except one on a side table and then they're slipping beneath the covers, cool sheets settling over their bodies.

Lily can feel his warmth radiating out, like he's some kind of furnace, and she wants to cuddle up to him, have his arms wrapped around her.

She exhales and turns over to faces him. Cheek pressed against the pillow, her hand flat against the bed. "Hi," she whispers.

James's eyes travel across her face, down over the rest of her, half obscured by the blanket. His bare chest is visible where the blanket has fallen down. "Hi," he says. His voice is soft.

Lily breathes in, out. The soft lamplight casts a subtle glow over the room, over them.

James hesitates, then his hand stretches out, traces her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

Lily doesn't move, though breathing is suddenly hard and her entire body is flushed.

He leans in, the blankets shifting and kisses her deeply. His hand curls through the hair at the base of her neck, gently guiding her mouth against his. Lily goes willingly, one hand pressing against his bare chest.

They shift towards each other until they're all pressed together, his leg slotted between hers.

Lily sucks in a breath, biting back a whimper as she feels him pressing against her hip. "James—"

"Our how-to manual needs practical experience," James murmurs and slips his hand up the back of her shirt.

Lily laughs into his mouth. "James, we are not writing a sex—"

His kiss swallows the rest of her words and Lily hums, body melting into his as her joking complaints fade away entirely.

Soon kissing turns hotter, fingers pressing into bare skin, seeking more. Lily reaches down, sliding her fingers against the hard muscles of his stomach—James makes a noise—and into his trousers, slowly wrapping her hand around his cock. She actually moans at the feeling of his skin beneath hers, the way he swears, biting her lower lip.

She missed this part so fucking much, feeling him and touching him and seeing—

He groans against her mouth with each slow slide of her hand up and down his length. She pauses for a second to lick her palm—he watches with blown pupils—then returns to her task.

James kisses her hard, tongue sweeping and pulling a strangled whimper from her, then pulls back, breathing heavily. He looks down beneath them, like the sight of her hand wrapped around his cock is so arresting he can't look away. The expression on his face is caught somewhere between wonder and pained need and Lily clenches her thighs together at the look.

They're still all pressed together, her hand caught between them and the backs of her knuckles drag against his stomach with each pump.

She swipes her thumb across the tip and James swears, sharp and hot, and reaches down, covering her hand with his. "Fuck, Lily, stop—" He sounds physically pained.

Lily licks her lips. "What?" she whispers.

He hesitates, though, as though unsure if he should speak and—

And she knows.

She knows.

"James," she says and leans in to kiss him. Her mouth lingering on his, panting breaths. "Yes." Another kiss. "Yes—"

"Are you—"

"Yes."

And he snaps.

James swears once, hot and rough, then lifts his gaze to meet hers and the dark need in them bowls her over. "Turn over," he says roughly. "Fuck, just—get on your knees, I need to see your arse in the air and I need to fuck you until you scream—"

Lily sucks in a breath so hard her throat nearly hurts from the motion and then she makes a noise that's half whimper, half gasp.

James's hand on her arse makes her twist suddenly, pulling the T-shirt over her head, kicking off her knickers and settling back onto the bed. The covers fall in a tangled heap onto the mattress and she shifts until she's out of them entirely, bare skin flushing under the dim lamp light.

James makes a noise that sounds completely undone. "Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty—"

Lily laughs, the sound wildly breathless and she hovers upright on her knees. She glances back at James, still lying on his side and gives him a lingering look. "I thought you were going to fuck me?" she murmurs and leans forward, fingers curling into the covers, elbow lowering until she's bent over, her arse in the air just as he'd requested.

James makes a sharp, choked noise, then he's suddenly behind her, pressing right against her arse. His hands travel up her back, caress her sides, the hair that's falling around her shoulders as her cheek presses against the mattress. "You're incredible," he says hoarsely. His hands return to her hips and grip tightly and she moans softly.

"James…" Her voice is high-pitched. The buzzing in her ears gets louder when James groans and she hears the sounds of him shoving down his bottoms, then he's shifting and she feels him sliding between her legs.

Lily fucking whimpers. "James—" It's even more desperate this time and she bites back another wanton sound when the head of his cock pushes against her entrance, just barely stretching her…

James draws away and the noise she makes would be mortifying at literally any other time if he wasn't about to fuck her, yet for some reason he still isn't—

James's voice is strained, but utterly serious. "Evans."

She stills. His hand is pressing against her lower back, thumb gently stroking.

"Do you want to do this?" he says. His hips shift, maybe without his meaning to, and the wonderful, slow friction makes Lily's stomach clench. Her head spins. "Really? Because we don't—"

"James," Lily says without any breath to add to the weight, but full of heat. She purposefully arches her spine, grinding back against his cock. James groans sharply as he slides through her wetness. She doesn't recognize her voice except she does, because the last time she sounded this desperate and needy and unglued was in a bed with this same man, over ten years ago— "James, fuck me."

He does.

His fingers grip her hips and…

And she just.

Her brain stops working. It stops thinking, it stops questioning, it stops worrying about where this is going and how she feels because—Merlin, this is perfect. He's filling her, stretching her so wonderfully, so familiarly that even ten years and the multiple other people who have been inside her—

No one has measured up to him. To the feeling, to the safety of being beneath him, his hands on her skin, his voice rough and pushing her headlong towards orgasm.

Lily moans and whimpers as his cock slides in and out of her, arms barely holding her up as her back arches. Each thrust hits something golden inside of her that makes her gasp at the sensation, just on the side of a little bit too much, and yet not enough. Never enough, with him.

"Fuck, fuck—" James sounds equally undone. "Lily, fuck you have no idea how you feel—"

She'd laugh if she had the air at the fact that they're apparently having the same thought. She'd tell him too, if he wasn't—

James shifts, hand sliding up her back until he's pushing her further against the mattress, her arms collapsing and pressing her face into the covers. Her fingers grip the sheets, sliding, slipping. "Oh—"

She bites her arm trying to muffle her cries and James makes a sharp sound. He leans in, not stopping the brutal rhythm of his hips against hers, cock thrusting in and out of her, and covers her arm with one hand. "Don't," he says harshly and presses a kiss to her shoulder, bites gently. His chest presses against her back, warm and heavy and wonderful. "Fuck, don't, Lil—I want—I need to hear you—"

He really does sound like he needs it, like he's going out of his mind or he can't believe this and Lily can't believe it either, except it's happening and it's unbelievable—

"James, fuck, yes, yes, yes—"

Her moans filter out, unmuffled by her skin and James growls, hand sliding down to cup her arse and pull her more closely against him. The shift in angle drags up against something magical and Lily gasps, a nonsensical whimper escaping at the feeling. The time slips away, it could be hours that they're like this, that he bears down on her, makes her unravel. Hour or minutes or—

"Baby—" His voice is strained, his mouth brushing against her neck, her shoulder. "I—fuck, fuck—I've thought about being inside you, making you come on my cock so much—"

"Me too." She's half-moaning when she says it, core clenching as she can feel herself getting closer as closer with each stroke. "James—I—"

He suddenly changes rhythm, drawing out of her nearly all the way and she cries out—

"Fuck, please, please, don't you dare stop—" her voice gets cut off into a moan when he thrusts back in, kissing her neck. "Oh—"

"Come for me, love," James says roughly. His free hand drags over her shoulder, brushing against her chin, her mouth, her throat. He slides it down her back, then beneath her and his fingers slip between her thighs. Circling, stroking at her clit as she feels his cock plunging in and out of her. The world is blurring at the edges.

"Yes, oh—"

It's blurring and then it breaks apart entirely. She cries out his name, she knows she does. She knows because she's dreamed of this exact moment far more than she'd like to admit and she always says his name because it's him and she's too overwhelmed by it being James fucking her not to. She's gasping, almost sobbing for air as pleasure makes her silly, makes James swear and say her name, sharp—

His hips stutter against hers, cock hard and unyielding, her face flushed. Sweat on both of them, a thousand things that could feel like panic unsaid between them, but they're here.

"Lily." Her name is a moan, then she feels him spilling inside her as he gasps his release. His chest against her back, his weight, her face pressed into the bed. His cock, still inside her.

James stills finally and the arm he has braced against the bed falls, him with it. He pants.

Lily slides forward, almost on her stomach except for his arm still trapped beneath her, fingers unclenching on the sheets. "James…" Her voice is a low whisper. He kisses her sweaty neck, panting breaths against her skin.

"Yeah," he says roughly. It's not a question, just a statement.

Yeah. Yeah, we did that.

Lily reaches back, entire body thrumming and shaking, and brushes against his face. He leans into her touch and she slides her hand around the back of his head, tangling in the soft strands of his hair.

James makes a soft sound, relaxing a bit against her.

Lily closes her eyes, enjoying the heavy weight of him—though she knows in a second it'll start to feel suffocating and he'll need to get off—and holding him against the space between her shoulder and neck.

His lips press against her pulse point, soft and lingering.

Oh, she thinks.

James's voice is muffled. "Told you we're good enough at it to write a how-to sex guide."

A beat of silence, then Lily snorts and her shoulders shake. She presses her face into the sheets, laughing. Her heart is still pounding. "Fuck—off—"

He laughs too and kisses her neck, her shoulder, the top of her arm. "No," he says. "Sorry, not happening." Warmth and exhaustion, the wonderful ache she knows she'll feel when he finally removes himself from her. She could almost fall asleep like this. "Can't fuck off until we write our book."

This time she uses her leg, still trapped and tangled with his, to kick him.

James laughs, then his voice drops a little. "Why didn't we do this earlier?" His breath is warm and soft against her skin. "I mean…we were already…"

"I don't know," Lily says quietly. Her hand shifts, brushing against his skin. "I guess…maybe I wasn't ready. For this."

"Are you now?" James asks.

Lily's eyes flutter closed. "Yeah," she whispers. "I am."

26 February, 2008

The world spins on, and Lily thinks it's strange.

Emma Vance stops giving her dirty looks and the whispers of 'slag' and 'scheming bitch' begin to die down as the days pass. She'd wonder why, but then Moira McMahon and Jenny Leads are caught snogging in the greenhouses and that becomes the newest fodder for gossip.

And things move on, but they don't.

"It's so strange," she says to Marlene when they're lying on Lily's bed together. "That…that they forgot about it all so quickly. It's just been a few days."

"Well, it's over now," Marlene says, placing a comforting hand on hers. Her face is sympathetic, as its been throughout this entire time, even when Lily hasn't told her everything. Like that Olivia was the one who brought up Lily's place in this world and from there it caught fire in the school. That secret she's going to take to her grave, because everyone's so dead set on making her out to be horrible she doesn't like to think how they'd react to that. Ridicule or blame, probably. She's just trying to divert attention to save her reputation.

Lily makes her shoulders drop and give Marlene a smile. "Yeah," she says. "Over."

Marlene's frown lifts slightly. "And you and James can go back to normal!" she says, like it's good news. "I know this whole thing has made it a little weird for you two to be in public together, because people are fucking shit, but—well, at least you've got that."

Lily doesn't even try to fake a smile for that, just buries her face in her blankets.

Things between her and James are…strained.

He doesn't mention the rumors again after their conversation and she doesn't bring them up either, fearing being too much work, upset over nothing, since he clearly doesn't think it's a big deal. She wants him, and so she wants to be easy to have in return.

But that moment in the classroom grates beneath her skin and she can't stop thinking about him holding her against his chest. It doesn't matter.

It—the rumors, or her? Were they one and the same, if he clearly didn't see how hard it was to hear yourself be torn down day after day? To lose the respect of everyone around her and even worse—every time James doesn't bring it up, every time he keeps them going in this easy, no-problems-everything-is-fine stasis, she can feel herself losing his respect too. And that kills her, because—

Because James Potter was once someone she hated, for his arrogance and for how bloody easy everything was for him. How he fit into this world, among his friends, without even trying.

And she's tried so hard for seven years, only to reach the end and be hit with this, that all of her peers could so easily think her a cheating, scheming bitch. Even those usually lovely, silly Marauders who welcomed her with open arms haven't brought it up, as if James has told them to dance around the subject.

And even when she hated James, she admired his ease, was almost envious. Being with him, she's tried so hard to capture it herself, but she always falls short and she can't let him see that. If he sees how short she's falling…why would he want to stay?

These thoughts are in the very back of her mind, hidden behind rationalization and conversation and the fact that they're still together—they still laugh sometimes, he still tucks her hair behind her ear, kisses her until she's breathless, shags her until she can't move—and she doesn't even think about them every day.

In hindsight, they're laid out more clearly than they ever were in the moment, but like a little, vicious list in her mind, it was there.

The addendum is the scene in the classroom on the twenty ninth of February, and then…

And then it's the end.