Petal in the Rain

Chapter 10 – What a Feeling

I never understood before
I never knew what love was for
My heart was broke, my head was sore
What a feeling.

-Aqualung

June 29, 1940

…Paris captured on the fourteenth of June, nineteen forty…negotiations between new French Premier Henri-Philippe Petain and Adolf Hitler…armistice signed with Germany on the twenty-second of June…Germany now controlling three fifths of France...surrender of all Jews in France to German army…four-hundred-thousand Frenchmen killed during invasion…control of coast…preparing for air attack on Britain…

The library in the Potter Manor was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a single candlestick dribbling wax. According to the clock on the fireplace mantle, it was nearly midnight. The staff had long retired for the night, dismissed early. Only two residents remained awake, listening in silence to the crystal set buzz and spit out more horrific news. James presided in a winged-back chair near the fire, his face buried in his hands. His hair looked more rumpled than normal, a sign of stress and brooding. Sirius stood before him, raw emotion on his handsome face. His expression was taut, the fire reflecting in his eyes. He knelt down before James, planting both hands on the chair's arms.

"Please tell me this is a joke," Sirius Black whispered, his usually grinning face now disbelieving. "Both Dumbledore and Churchill forbid it, James. You know that."

"All I know is that I'm not staying behind and doing nothing like some coward," James whispered, the word rolling off his tongue like poison. "How can I? This is as much our responsibility as it is theirs."

"James," Sirius pleaded. "Think of the repercussions. You can't perform magic, Dumbledore—"

"Then I won't, Sirius. I'll fight like every other man," James cut him off, though the very thought compelled him to reconsider. "I'm registering with the RAF tomorrow. Dumbledore can't control my every action. I'm loyal to the Order, but I'm also loyal to my country."

"Not use magic?" Sirius frowned, swallowing hard. "It's ridiculous. You sound so final. How long have you been plotting this?"

"It's been on my mind for some time now. Ever since Denmark—and now with Paris seized…" James sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. "I'm done being in denial about this war. It's happening all around us, Sirius. England's next, and all those pretending otherwise won't know what hit them."

"Your mother will prevent it. Can you imagine the heir to the Potter fortune, Lord James Potter, fighting in a muggle war? If you were to…well—"

"Die?" James searched Sirius' troubled face. "Then perhaps my life will have purpose. Rotting away in this house, attending meaningless parties…I refuse to be useless, to hide behind my title."

"You don't need to die to find purpose in your life!" Sirius spat. "What about your mother and father?"

"I'll be gone by tomorrow night. Mother won't realize I'm missing until next week, when she comes back home from Australia," James said evenly. "I could care less how she reacts. I'll tell no one—save Dumbledore and the Order—what my plans are. She won't find out for some time."

"This is the most ludicrous idea you've come up with to date, Prongs," Sirius announced, focus blurring as he looked over James' right shoulder at the rain-spattered window. "Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"No," James said, heaving a sigh, then half-heartedly smiling at his downtrodden friend. "Think of it this way, you'll be rid of me for a while. You'll have your pick of all the society women."

"You're thick," Sirius scoffed, getting up and pacing about the room. "Speaking to me as if you're moving to the sodding Amazon! You'll probably be based in Uxbridge or Kent, both of which aren't far from here, and you won't even be alone."

"What do you mean?" James squinted behind his spectacles.

"You think I'm letting you go by yourself?" Sirius demanded, his expression skeptical. "Not bloody likely. If you're devoting yourself to the cause, so am I. I'm not going to let you go and get your head blown off."

"No!" James stood up, his features frantic as he knocked over the candle by his chair and singed the carpet. "Don't you dare make a decision based upon what I'm doing. I won't have you killed because I decided to join this war."

"Don't flatter yourself," Sirius narrowed his eyes, more mature and pragmatic than he had ever been. "You're not the only one whose been thinking about joining up. You just had the impudence to react before I did. Like you, my mind's made up. Don't bother trying to change it."

James was rooted to his spot, a mixture of feelings settling in his gut. He was scared, he was angry, he was anxious…but now…comforted. He did not try to deter Sirius; instead, he felt a rush of emotion for him, a sense of respect for the brother he never had. Through thick and thin, they had always been there for each other…even now, during the devastation of Europe.

"I'm glad you're with me, Sirius."

Sirius crossed the hearth and placed a reassuring hand on James' shoulder, the two of them settling back into silence as they watched the ruby coals seethe in the fireplace. Warmth washed over them, but a cold air surrounded the perimeter of the room, lingering like a dormant disease ready to spread. The tinker of an off-key gramophone sounded down the hallway.

"We'll be alright," Sirius said, though with a hint of uncertainly; James had never seen him so tentative.

"We're Marauders, Sirius," James replied, the schoolboy gang he had formed with Sirius, Remus and Peter surfacing in his mind; the thought of Hogwarts seemed foreign in these difficult times. "We've survived worst. Filch's detentions, for example."

"Seems like so long ago we were there," Sirius said, cracking the first true smile of the evening; it quickly disappeared. "How long do you reckon we'll be gone?"

"It could be weeks; it could be years," James juggled the possibilities, hands in his pockets as he continued to stare at the fire. "Who can say, really?"

Sirius licked his lips. "From what Remus has told me, you and Lily are closer than ever... will you leave without a word with her?"

Lily. James had hoped Sirius wouldn't bring her up, for he was already torn about what to do about her. The few days they'd spent together at Godric's Hollow had been enchanting, yet they had burdened him, knowing it could be their last time together. He'd planned to join the air force long before Godric's Hollow, which made departing that much harder. The number of times he'd nearly reconsidered joining was staggering. James was falling hard and fast for Lily, and he sincerely hoped she wasn't too.

"I think it's best I leave without telling her," James began, his eyes flickering from the fire to Sirius. "I told her I'd meet her tomorrow afternoon in the apple orchard…but I just…can't."

"Why leave the girl heartbroken? Doesn't she deserve the truth?" Sirius ventured, though his voice remained quiet and severe. "I know I'm not one to talk, but it'll hurt her if you leave without an explanation. Don't do her such a disservice."

"Don't you understand, Sirius?" James demanded, his temper rising despite his best attempts to keep it at bay. "It's better for her this way. If she feels what I feel for her…I can't have her worrying about me dying…and I won't have her mourn over my death. It's better for her to think I left, that I'm an arrogant prick. Anger is more bearable than sadness."

"You speak as if you're already dead!" Sirius spat, narrowing his eyes. "This isn't about what's best for her, is it? It's about what's best for you. You don't want to have to say goodbye. It would break you."

"You don't have a clue what you're talking about, Black," James glare was scathing as he folded his arms.

"You'd be surprised," Sirius returned, though less harshly. "I'm not fighting with you about this…I just think you're making a mistake with her."

"Sirius, you don't know what it's like," James whispered, the anger beginning to dissipate. "You've never…fallen in love."

"Love?" Sirius was surprised to hear James utter the word. "You're right, James, but remember: you're lucky enough to have found it. Don't squander it."

Sirius sauntered off, disappearing down a dark corridor. They would depart together tomorrow to sign up and then an army motorcar would come by to pick them up with the rest of the recruits. James watched Sirius leave wordlessly; he clutched his sides as the cold crept upon him, slithering across the floor. He felt strangely empty as he regarded the fire once more.

It's for the best, Lily.

It was late afternoon. The sun was hidden by ominous cloud cover and the landscape could only be described as dull and grey. Lily sat at the back of the English classroom with Roxanne, reading along to Shakespeare's Macbeth. She absently doodled in the corner of her disheveled copy, staring out the window as the nun's words failed to move her. She did, however, perk up whenever the three witches were mentioned, muttering incantations and professing the future.

I don't read into the future—I can't possibly be a witch, Lily thought, thinking back to the prank letter she'd received only a few weeks back.

Roxanne turned in her chair and threw a small piece of scrunched up paper at Lily, jolting her out of her daydream. Their teacher, Sister Gertrude, noticed, but simply ignored the naughty note passing and continued with her lesson. Lily frowned as she bent to pick up the paper wad, wondering why the nun had disregarded their rule-breaking. Lily could feel Acantha's glare on the back of her head.

Returning from Godric's Hollow had been quite a strange affair. Upon arriving, Lily had learned Sister Agatha had taken a few weeks off to vacation in Kent due to a purported head injury and that Sister Marietta has temporarily taken over the position of Headmistress. Lily had expected a very harsh welcoming the night of her return, but instead Sister Marietta had simply ordered her to bed. Ever since her arrival, the nuns had treated her with a similar air of apathy—an embraced change on Lily's part. The adjustment did, however, make her uneasy, as if doom was impending.

Did James orchestrate this revolution?

Lily unraveled Roxanne's note and spread it over the table. After reading, she passed it back to Roxanne, and vice versa.

What are you thinking about, Lily?

Nothing. Just willing myself to keep awake.

You're a liar. You're thinking about James, aren't you?

No! Honestly, you probably think about him more than I do.

Yeah, right. I've never seen you so dewy-eyed before. Ever since he saved you again all you've done is daydream and smile. What happened on that trip to his holiday home?

Fine, so I like him. I admit it! What would you do in my situation?

Be counting my lucky stars. It's not every day a girl finds a handsome, filthy rich lord that worships her!

He does not worship me and he's not that amazing.

Whatever you say, lover girl.

Can you cover for me again tonight?

How am I going to do that!?

I don't know, if any of the nuns come looking for me, tell them I'm helping in the kitchens or serving another detention?

Where are you going now?

Apple orchards to meet James…

UH OH! What will you two be getting up to there?

What are you implying?!

It was strange. For the first time, Lily had accepted her relationship with James Potter. Yes, he was a lord with money and status, but he was also just a man—a man that cared for her. Lily didn't question that he liked her, either. The time they'd spent together at Godric's Hollow had been…well, good. They'd frolicked in the water, laid on the hot sand, kissed at the end of the dock…yet he'd remained a gentleman the entire trip. They'd been alone, secluded, shared wine and strawberries, but he'd never once tried to take advantage of her. If she were worth nothing to him, or regarded as a mere play thing, she doubted he would treat her with such respect.

Thinking of him now, a warm feeling settled inside her. His messy hair, his strong arms, the eyes that could make her melt with a single glance…

Sister Gertrude jarred Lily out of her new daydream.

"Everyone please pack up your books and materials. Class will end early today due to a scheduled announcement in the dining hall. Single file, if you please."

"What'do you think this will be about?" Roxanne cocked an eyebrow as she rose out of her seat and gathered up her books. "Maybe it's about the ball?"

"Not a clue. When is that ball supposed to take place again?" Lily followed Roxanne out of the classroom, begrudgingly holding back from tripping Acantha on the way. "You bought your dress for it ages ago."

"I did," Roxanne frowned, entering the dining hall with Lily and taking a seat near the back. "I never gave it much thought, but I suppose many boys from the all-gentlemen school are joining the war."

Lily paused. She had not thought of that possibility.

Once all the girls were seated, Sister Marietta, a small yet, stern woman, rose out of her chair at the front of the hall and clinked her water goblet with a silver spoon, indicating to the crowd she was ready to speak. Puffing out her chest and adjusting her head piece, she began.

"Good afternoon," Sister Marietta folded her hands in her lap and peered around at the girls. "I regret interrupting your classes today, but the issue I wish to discuss with all of you is of a pressing nature. I am referring to, of course, the war."

Lily immediately perked up, eager and nervous about the information she was about to freely be given. Across the hall, she watched Acantha and her friends huff in annoyance. Lily knew they were ignorant when it came to the war.

Why are the nuns offering us information now?

"Belonging to a prestigious school that teaches young, soon-to-be aristocratic ladies, we have not enlightened you on the war, such an issue having no importance in a young lady's life—"

Lily scoffed at this comment.

"—but now, unfortunately, the war has taken a turn for the worst. All in our country must begin preparing in case of an attack from the Germans."

This comment had quite a different effect on the girls. Many gasped, clutching onto their friends and whispering frantically, while others stared in disbelief. One girl announced, "But we're the most powerful country in the world!" as her best friend began to cry. Nuns scattered about the room, calming down the frazzled female population as Sister Marietta chimed her glass louder.

"Please, ladies! Do not panic," Sister Marietta urged, beginning to begrudge Sister Agatha's decision to keep the girls sheltered from the war. "I am certain the fine men serving in our military will protect us from such an occurrence, but the government has introduced precautions and preparatory measures in case of an attack."

Lily paused, wondering how the Germans would go about attacking them. Natural barriers, like the North Sea, the River Thames and the ocean would work to Britain's advantage. After all, tanks couldn't maneuver over water. Britain also had the finest navy in Europe—how could Germany possibly touch them?

Her question was quickly answered.

"If—and I stress if—the Germans launch an air attack on Great Britain, the government has installed alarms around the city that will alert us of such happenings so that we may find cover quickly," Sister Marietta explained, searching the crowd of disbelieving faces. "Prime Minister Churchill will be sounding a false alarm within the hour to give us an idea of what it will sound like and a chance to run through our drill."

"Air attack?" Roxanne whispered to Lily, who was listening intently. "What are they going to do, shoot down civilians on the street?"

"I expect they'd do something a little more dramatic," Lily replied, discreetly turning to Roxanne so that the other traumatized girls couldn't hear. "They'll probably bomb us—that way they'll devastate us economically as well. We'll have civilian casualties and crumbling buildings. It'll be absolute chaos."

"Have I ever told you you're too brilliant for your own good?" Roxanne frowned, wondering how Lily could've possibly pieced that together on her own.

"I read a lot," Lily mumbled, turning her attention back to the Sister Marietta.

"When you hear this alarm, wherever you are, you must calmly report to the front foyer of the school. Once we are all assembled we will retire to the basement where food, candles and other survival materials are being stored. We will not run through this drill today when the alarm sounds, but we will any time after, regardless of our activities at the time."

After she finished delivering her speech, Sister Marietta took a seat and pursed her lips together, almost as anxious as the chattering schoolgirls around her. Many, not knowing what to do, silently chewed on biscuits that were beings passed around on silver platters along with freshly-brewed tea.

The only girl who seemed unperturbed by the disquieting information was Acantha.

"Upset? I'm not upset in the least," Lily heard Acantha announce to one of her visibly distressed girlfriends, running her manicured fingers through her long black tresses. "I expect my father will do something about this. I can't fathom him allowing me to stay in such a dangerous place unprotected. He'll probably have me schooled in Sweden until it's safe again—"

"If that's true, I hope this war goes on forever," Roxanne mumbled, slouching in her chair and narrowing her eyes in Acantha's direction.

"Agreed," a smile threatened to twitch on Lily's face; however, it disappeared when a realization smacked her square in the forehead. "I reckon if things get worse here, many girls will get pulled out of school…maybe even you."

"My parents are off in India somewhere. Their main priority is import and export—I doubt they'd bother jumping on a boat and coming to fetch me," Roxanne muttered, half-heartedly smiling at Lily. "You're stuck with me, don't worry."

"Bother," Lily retorted, silently hoping Roxanne was right—she didn't know what she'd do without her. "Here I was hoping you'd get shipped off."

"Rude," Roxanne mocked, folding her arms over her navy-blue uniform sweater. "But then again, so am I. I've almost forgotten—I've got a little treat for us to enjoy when you get home from your rendezvous with James. That is…if you come home and don't runaway to elope or something."

"Shut up," Lily provided Roxanne with a sly grin. "What's this surprise, then? Pinched some wine from the kitchens again?"

"Even better," Roxanne winked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her sweater pocket and discreetly showing them to Lily. "Are you a fan of de Maurier, madam?"

"How did you manage to get those?" Lily breathed, her eyes afire with excitement as she fingered the red-packaged fags. "If young ladies like us are caught smoking, imagine the consequences."

"We couldn't possibly get in trouble for smoking—we're not young ladies," Roxanne laughed, pocketing the package again. "We're more like young hooligans on a mission to turn high-society upside down!"

Lily began laughing, anticipation for her visit with James and now late-night smokes with Roxanne building, but suddenly stopped. Her heart pumped furiously in her chest and her stomach lurched when a high-pitched screech filled the room, the streets and the city. Acantha was rendered speechless; the nuns' calm faces faltered; pedestrians outside froze. Lily felt compelled to dive under the table, but settled with digging her fingernails into her chair. She exchanged a terrified look with Roxanne, who appeared just as unsettled as her.

It wouldn't be the last time Lily would hear the city scream.

"Need a hand, mate?"

James lackadaisically accepted the hand of a man dressed in a private's uniform. He was hoisted into the back of a muddy-green army jeep parked outside of his empty mansion, his bag thrown into a pile with the others. James squinted at the five men, most the same age as him, that were already seated in the exposed back of the car. All, save one, remained silent when he joined them.

"How're you?" the young muggle that had helped James onto the truck said in a thick Liverpool accent, extending a hand toward him. "Name's Peter Darby, but yeh can call m' Darby."

"Hello," James shook his hand firmly, wiling himself to smile, but failing. "James Potter."

"Nice to meet yeh, Potter," Darby smiled, his eyes still retaining a twinkle despite his predicament. "What's a fancy bloke like yeh doing in this war, eh? Look at the size of yer goddamn house!"

"Serving my country," James replied, second-guessing himself as he leaned forward and fumbled with the silly hat on his head. "Why have you joined up?"

"Me father would've killed me if I hadn't. He's too old ter go to war, yeh see, so he said to me, he said, "Petey, go earn yer family some respect!" n' that's what I'm doing," Darby explained, as if it made perfect sense. "Anyway, I'd like ter see some action."

James couldn't help thinking that Darby was joining up for all the wrong reasons. Why would you fight a war to earn your families' respect? What about your own self-respect?

"Any idea how many more men we'll be picking up?" James changed the subject when the jeep rumbled to a start. He cocked an eyebrow when Darby passed him a cigarette and lit the end of it.

"The driver said four more chaps. The last stop is some dodgy house down Grimmauld," Darby said, waving merrily to a pretty blonde woman walking down the street. "Getting anxious, are yeh?"

"You could say that," James buried his face in his hands and slouched forward.

The day was beautiful. It was not a typical sunny day—rather, dark clouds dotted the sky, casting the landscape in partial shadow, while the sun peaked through them and caused puddles and droplets on the leaves of trees to sparkle. The sun was beginning to set; in about an hour the landscape would be drenched in dawn colours. As the jeep trudged along the bumpy road, women and young girls stopped to wave at the uniformed men on the back of the truck, either out of respect or admiration for them. James was reminded of Lily.

The army jeep turned down a run-down street on the outskirts of London and pulled into the driveway of a small, yellow house. On the stoop stood a clean-shaven man in his late thirties, smartly dressed in his army uniform, hands in his pockets. James looked up at him; he looked tired, remorseful, poignant.

Just as the car pulled up, the man's young family came spilling out from the house; his wife, his elder son and his little girl. His wife stifled tears as he bent down to hug his daughter, who knew not where her father was going, then his stony-faced son, who looked angry and upset, but refused to let his father see him cry. He remained strong in front of his children, but when he turned toward his stricken wife, he faltered. James saw him mouth the words "I love you" to her, which she was barely able to return. Tears were running down her cheeks when her husband kissed her and squeezed her hand.

"Please don't go…" she whispered, swallowing back her tears. "I know I promised I wouldn't, but please…I need you…I love you."

James turned away, staring hard at the floor of the jeep. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep puff of his cigarette. He wished the man would stay back with his family—a wish that evaporated when the equilibrium in the jeep shifted with the man's added weight.

The jeep grumbled to a start and slowly began down the road. James looked up at the new recruit, who was dabbing at the sides of his eyes.

"DAD! WAIT!"

The man turned around, his son following in the vehicle's wake. "Christopher! Oh, Christopher, my son!"

"DON'T GO!" the boy pleaded, running up along the side of the jeep; James watched the exchange and felt a pang in his chest.

The boy's face was red with anguish; tears leaked out of the side of his face as he ran after his father, hopelessness evident in his teenage voice. So young. The man he idolized, looked up to, never ceased trying to impress…slowly gliding away, perhaps never to be seen again.

"I'll be alright, Chris! Take good care of your mother and sister!" the man shouted back, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'll come back…I'll come back…"

The boy disappeared in a cloud of car exhaust when the jeep turned the corner, the cries for his father slowly melding with the sound of the engine. The older man ceased looking behind him and placed his face in his hands, his body gently shaking.

James regarded the man with great respect, if not jealousy. He was so loved. He had a wife and children that were stricken with grief because of his departure, and the man was fighting for them. He was fighting as a husband and a father.

James looked up into the moody sky and closed his eyes. Who did he have? Who loved him? James knew Sirius did—they were practically brothers—but what of his parents, what of his family? At that moment, jostled about on the back of an army jeep, dressed in air force attire, he felt like he didn't have one.

"You have beautiful children," James mustered, opening his morose eyes and peering into the face of the older man.

He looked up at James and smiled sadly, something James hadn't anticipated. "They get their good looks from their mother, but I see a lot of myself in Christopher," the man said, slouching upwards and observing James for the first time. "You married?"

"No," James replied, sighing as a wry, sarcastic little smile surfaced.

"But you have a girl, don't you?" the man said knowingly, reading the expression and denial on his young comrade's face. "She beautiful?"

James swallowed and looked away from the man, feeling his chest contract uneasily. He didn't want to think about her or talk about her…it tormented him, knowing he was leaving the only person that he…but no, did he really love…? If he did, how would he know? How could he tell? He'd never been in love before…

Yes, Lily was beautiful, more beautiful and spirited than any woman he'd ever known…and he was leaving her behind. Would she ever know what happened to him? How much he cared?

"I…I don't have—" James began slowly, looking at the floor of the jeep, though his eyes remained transparent.

"She knows your fighting for her, doesn't she?" the older man said kindly, clapping James on the shoulder. "She knows, and that's all that matters. If it weren't for my family's support, though they're sad I'm leaving, I don't think I could go on. My children know their father is going out to protect them."

James' head hung as the jeep continued on, his throat burning.

I never saw it happening
I'd given up and given in
I just couldn't take the hurt again
What a feeling.

She doesn't know…

It was nearing dusk. Lily walked along a dirt road toward the apple orchard, the orange sun burning just below the tree line. The tall grass in the fields swayed back and forth in the wind as if it were dancing to a private song. The dirt and stones under her feet crunched with her every movement, the loudest sound in the serene area. She traveled the rustic landscape quietly, clutching a white daisy she had plucked along the way.

Lily's fiery hair was down, trailing along her spine and hugging her shoulders, and her eyes appeared yellowy-green, the sun bringing out the unusual colour in them. Her dress—the same white-gossamer one she's worn at Godric's Hollow—occasionally caught the soft breeze, the sheer fabric flapping behind her.

She felt contented to be away from school, away from the war. Here, alone in nature, she could be happy; she could be with James.

Lily felt her heart leap when the apple orchard came into view, the apples starting to come in. She stepped into the fertile soil and headed toward the middle, it being the place where she and James had met before. The sun was warm on her face as she moved about the rows, her eyes having trouble adjusting to the romantic light. She came upon the middle of the orchard and looked around, realizing James hadn't arrived yet.

I got a feeling in my soul…

Lily kicked off her shoes and leaned against a tree, darting her eyes about the orchard. She sighed and looked up, the sky beginning to darken with clouds. Time slowly ticked by, making her anxious and tired, and with it came a light drizzle.

Let the rain fall, I don't care. I'm yours and suddenly you're mine.

Lily's back slid down the tree. Nestled on the warm ground, she hugged her exposed legs up to her chest, water droplets snaking down them. She rested her weary head on her knees, feeling tucking moist hair behind her ears. Would she wait for hours? Would she wait for days?

Her dress was damp now, the ends muddy. She closed her eyes and warmed her legs with her hands, her thoughts melding with dreams of what lay ahead. The clouds above her were ominous, but docile, and small, efflorescence cockles grew near her feet. Here, alone in the apple orchard, her heart ached—but she was peaceful.

I didn't have the strength to fight, but suddenly, now...

She opened her eyes, her own tears fusing with the soft rain.

You seem so right.

Thunder reverberated, the rumble slightly shaking the ground. Lily could feel her heart inching toward her throat, threatening to gag her. Her breathing became labored as the sky gradually darkened, settling on an evening mauve.

She's told herself over and over again not to let anyone in; it would only end in sadness. For a while she'd felt alive, invigorated, free…but now…now it would go back to the way it was. Lily didn't understand why she felt such a sense of despair, why she assumed the worst—all she knew was he wasn't coming.

She wiped her tear-stained face with the back of her dirty hand and got up, wet hair sticking to her face. Her legs quaked as she got up and walked into the middle of the row, her feet sinking in the mud. She stood for a moment, taking another quick glance down the row of apple trees, then began to walk away, much slower than she had come. Why?

"Lily."

She wished she could hear him speak her name one more time, feel his strong arms around her. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. How dare he mean so much to her…how did she let it happen? She felt foolish for letting him in…for crying over him…but she couldn't stop.

"Lily, wait!"

Lily froze, hearing the wind carry a voice to her ears. She turned, the rain pelting her face, emerald eyes visible through the mist.

"James?" Lily whispered in inclement emotion, disbelieving of the figure running towards her, dressed in a dirty green army uniform.

Please don't be a mirage—Lily choked silently, fresh tears filling her eyes as she ran towards him, adrenaline pushing her cold body forward. "James?"

She crushed against him, James' arms enveloping her as he buried his face in her neck, gasping for air as his eyes stung with unshod tears. They were holding one another so tightly their legs buckled and they collapsed onto their knees, both holding onto each other for life. James removed his head from Lily's shoulder and pressed his lips against hers, sucking the breath from her lungs. Lily broke away minutes later, locking eyes with him.

"I thought you weren't coming," Lily whispered, gulping back emotion as she ran a hand along James' face, tracing the outline of his jaw.

"I didn't want to make this anymore difficult…but I realized I couldn't go without you knowing," James breathed, recognizing her fear and confusion.

"But…where are you going?" Lily blinked, her lips parting as her eyes took in his appearance. Why was he wearing a military uniform?

"I've joined the air force, Lily," James said, reaching out for her hand and grasping it tightly, bringing it to his lips. "I'm leaving tonight…"

"No," Lily shook her head in denial, slipping her hand out of his and drawing upwards, her expression disbelieving. "You're a Potter, you couldn't possibly—"

James rose to his feet, eyes clouded, brooding, intense…Lily looked so naive and vulnerable, drenched and disbelieving, her white dress sticking to her figure alluringly and her hair a mess of wet curls. It reminded him of the first night they met in the gardens.

"It's done," James said, running an agitated hand through his black hair and taking a step closer to her. "I need to know you'll be here waiting for me, Lily. I can't go without knowing."

He was really doing it—Lily couldn't believe it. There he was, tall, strong, resilient—wearing his heart on the sleeve of his military uniform. Lily choked back a sob when she looked into his face. He was being truly genuine; he'd opened his heart to her, he'd unwittingly given her access to it…and now he was leaving, maybe forever.

"I don't want you to go," Lily said breathlessly, fresh tears pouring out as James pulled her close to his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head as he looked out into the misty distance, willing himself to stay strong.

"I'm going to come back for you," he murmured in her ear, his voice barely audible over the soft rain. "I promise you."

"How can you promise something like that?" Lily said hopelessly, tearing herself away from his shoulder and boring into his eyes. "God knows where you'll be, what circumstances you'll encounter, who you'll meet—"

"I don't think I'll ever meet another girl like you," James' expression faltered, betraying his passionate emotions; Lily looked up into his rain-spattered face, fear and vulnerability apparent on her own. "You've awoken me to life, Lily—before you I didn't dream, I didn't laugh, and most of all I didn't care. There is a world outside of my aristocratic one, and I'll be damned if I let it go to hell."

"You don't need to save it, James! In your world you are protected," Lily pronounced, her bottom lip quivering as she reached for his cold hand. "Please."

"I care about this war because it is a part of your world, the world where I found you and where I can escape to," James lowered his eyes to the ground and took a deep breath, meeting Lily's distraught stare with a small smile. "Where I can laugh, where I can spend an entire evening on a beach with you in my arms."

Lily let an agonizing sob escape from her lips and covered her face with her hands, James drawing her into his chest again, his fingers entwining with her wet hair. "Please understand I'm not leaving you…I'm trying to protect you."

The rain suddenly stopped, a hush falling over the landscape as the clouds thinned and the sun, a cynosure of light, cast a dark pink shadow over the orchard. James encompassed Lily with his powerful arms, the two huddled on the ground against a tree. They were grappling each other as if it were the last time they'd ever see one another.

Daylight was slowly becoming evanescent—they didn't have much more time.

"You're really doing this," Lily whispered, opening her eyes tiredly and listening to James' heart beating in his chest; it was hard to swallow the realization.

"Will you wait for me?" James asked, dipping his head and lightly kissing Lily's neck, one hand around her back and the other lowering the skinny strap to her dress, causing her to shiver.

Lily shuddered and let out a quiet sigh, tears beginning to form again in her eyes. James pulled away, apologetic that he had made her cry, but Lily comforted him by offering him a watery smile. "I'll wait for you."

"Knowing that will get me through this war," James encouraged, fleetingly capturing Lily's lips with his, then slowly ascending to his feet. "But now I must go—Sirius will be wondering where I've disappeared to."

"Be careful," Lily mustered, letting James kiss her forehead and his hand slip out of hers when he turned, determined to leave without crying. "And…James?"

"Yes Lily?" he asked, turning to the beautiful girl dressed in a mud-strained dress. He was so tempted to close the distance between them again and wrap his arms around her.

"If the military has many men like you in it, we're sure to win this war," her eyes were dry and crystalline now, mysteriously sparkling in the crimson light, wiser than before.

"I'll be back for you, Lily Evans," James promised. His smile quickly faded as he turned his back and headed toward the forest.

Lily watched his retreating figure disappear into the foliage, despair washing over her, much colder than the rain.

Love will remain a mystery
But give me your hand and you will see
Your heart is keeping time with me.

Author's Notes

That one is a heart breaker to write! Thanks so much for continuing to read and review.

Much love,

-pratty-prongs-princesse

(All lyrics in this chapter are from the song Brighter than Sunshine by Aqualung)