Chapter 16: Go big or go home
The final whistle goes off and James releases an exhausted sigh. After he scored in the second half, giving Oak House the lead, the game became much faster and more competitive, the other team pushing and pressing them at every corner. The last twenty minutes of the match were basically spent defending their goal area, trying to maintain the win. They did it, but barely.
James is sweating from head to toe as he walks to shake hands with the opposite captain and to sign the game's stats form. On his way back, he waves to the small crowd sitting for him on the stands, telling them to go ahead with the bus because he still needs to shower and get dressed. They tell him they will meet him at The Studio Bar, Sirius insisting to wait for James but getting easily convinced to go with the others since he didn't come with the bike and James has no strength left to take him on the back of his. Entering the changing room, he listens alongside his teammates to their coach congratulate them briefly before moving to get ready.
The water of the shower hits James as coldly as the realisation that Lily hasn't come.
Not that she was supposed to. It is not as if she comes to watch him play every time. Before that year she hadn't come once. But in the past many weeks she had come often, and James liked so much to see her cheering for him on the bench that he instantly noticed that she was not there tonight, and that promptly put a damper on his mood. It is silly and nonsensical, he knows it, which in no way or shape makes his disappointment less poignant. As he slowly washes his body, he berates himself for what probably is the hundredth time since his talk with Sirius in the loo of the pub the week before.
Despite his most valiant attempts and quite bold declaration that he will just forget about it, James has fruitlessly harboured hope. He really tried not to, but at every interaction he has had with her ever since he couldn't help himself but quietly search for signs. During the nights, before falling asleep, he would first spend restless quarters of hours in bed imagining different scenarios and recalling every word and smile she directed at him that day. And now he feels his heart wither because she hasn't come, even though she never said she would. He just expected it. Primarily as a friend, considering she has made it a sort of habit to come with Thompson to join the lads on the stands, but also as someone that is stupidly trying to, once again, ascertain the nature of her feelings for him. If she returned his, as Sirius claimed, she surely would take every opportunity to see him, wouldn't she?
The direction of his thoughts annoys him and he groans under the shower, pissed at himself. He said one thing to Sirius, and he is going now and doing the bloody opposite despite himself. He had told himself that, no matter what, they were only meant to be friends, and he just needed to hold tight for a little while longer until he didn't have to see her every day anymore and could finally move on. Why is he second-guessing himself now? Why is he expecting things he shouldn't from her?
Shaking his head forcibly to let go of the annoyance, James gets out of the shower and gets dried and dressed. The short fifteen minutes to The Studio Bar on his bike help him to get his mindset back to one of tired peace, determined to celebrate the difficult victory and enjoy the night at the pub without obsessing about Lily. True to his determination, he doesn't even flinch when he opens the door to the steamy, busy salon and doesn't see her again. He just walks to the high wooden stool in the corner around which his friends gather, ordering a German pilsner from the bar counter on his way there.
- Mate, I've never seen such a stressful end of a game before – Remus says when he takes a place by his side. – I was on the edge of my seat the entire time, just expecting the worst.
- Tell me about it. If you were worried, imagine me. My muscles were tighter than Pete's budget by the end of the month.
His three best friends along with Marlene and Victoria laugh loudly, all very aware of how Peter struggles to make do with the scrappy salary the lad makes at the convenience store where he works.
- Then I feel for you, Prongs, 'cause that's tight!
- But you won and that's all that matters – Sirius cuts in, throwing a heavy arm around James' shoulders. – You're still number two, though, right?
- Yeah, Physics FC's number one. We'll probably only have a chance at the top spot when we play directly against them.
- And when's that gonna be?
James gives Victoria a crooked smile.
- What d'you think? Only in the last game of the season. Did you really think I'd graduate from Manchester without some drama?
- Most certainly not – Sirius chuckles, eyes alight. – You'll leave with a bang, or you won't leave at all!
The group of third-years laugh out loud again, and James takes a sip of his recently arrived beer while watching Sirius. He looks good. James had been mildly worried that he would feel discouraged after his second therapy appointment, which took place the day before and was once again a disaster. This time, knowing where his best friend was, James had purposely waited for Sirius after hours in the common room. His mate looked as drained as he had looked the previous time, and unsurprisingly told James that he had one more time struggled horribly to open his mouth and talk about his issues with the therapist. James had already expected it, and yet he was afraid that his mate's mood would be too affected by it or that he would decide to not go through with it any longer.
Discreetly observing him in the pub, James is relieved to see Sirius acting normal, having fun with their friends without holding himself back. His next session is already scheduled for the following week and James has higher hopes now that he will attend it. He wants to ask him, confirm with Sirius that he is indeed planning to go, or just ask him more questions about how the second appointment went since they didn't have that much time to talk about it yesterday, but he refrains from doing that. He knows his friend is not ready to talk about it, especially not in front of other people.
When James' stomach rumbles, he averts his eyes from his mate and flags the waiter.
- Pads, where've you been last night? I didn't see you coming in before I went to sleep.
James drops his hand, swirling to Peter. Alarms go off inside of him, and he hurries to rescue Sirius from answering the question. He doesn't need to.
- I was out late, as I probably will every Tuesday from now on – Sirius replies, unfazed. He pauses for a moment before clearing his throat and James feels his jaw drop. He is going to tell them. – I have started seeing a therapist. Yesterday was my second session. I'll be going once a week for the foreseeable future.
A beat passes and James hangs on, awfully aware of everyone's reaction at the table and ready to wrestle them to the floor if they say anything remotely negative or mockery about what Sirius just told them. Of course, he doesn't have to worry.
The smile that Remus gives Sirius is enough to blind the entire room.
- Pads, what a fucking good news! I had no idea you'd decided to see someone. – Remus reaches out and pats Sirius enthusiastically on the leg. – Good for you, mate, good for you.
- Yeah – Sirius shrugs. James senses he is really shy but trying his best not to show it. – I've gone too long without admitting I need help to deal with some shit in my life. You all know that.
Remus and Peter nod, knowing full well what he means. Victoria and Marlene don't, but that doesn't stop the former from offering her perspective.
- I've done family therapy from the age of twelve to fifteen, when my parents were going through their divorce. It helped me loads. – She smiles approvingly to Sirius. – It's the best thing to do if you're struggling with something you can't figure out by yourself. And, honestly, - she lifts one unconcerned shoulder – even if you're not. I'm of the opinion that everyone should see a therapist at least once in their lives. Everybody has problems and help is always welcome.
Marlene grins, proud of her sensible girlfriend.
- Agreed.
James wants to kiss each one of them for their kind words, but he keeps quiet, letting Sirius show his own gratefulness.
- Thanks, Tor. And Marley. And all of you. – He looks around when he says the last part, ending up on James and staying there. – You're good friends and I'm lucky to have you supporting me. I know it's gonna be a long process, but I'm ready now to take the necessary steps.
Peter finally speaks.
- And we'll be here the whole fucking way.
Jesus, James had no idea that a night out in the pub would get him so emotional. He needs to blink several times, twisting his head to look away, until the tears finally recede from his eyes. His windpipe feels like he tried to swallow an entire brick and he has to swallow repeatedly before he can speak again, at last ordering his dinner.
The evening cruises by swiftly, their conversation light and unhurried, their drinking limited to a minimum, and after James finishes his food, they decide to head back home, content to just chat occasionally. They walk the girls to their campus, both Victoria and Marlene saying goodbye to Sirius with a heartfelt hug, then march back to Oak House, going to sleep earlier than their usual Wednesdays.
James doesn't mind. On the contrary, he thinks that those mellow nights out have meant more and felt more worthy of their time than any wild party surrounded by too many people. He is constantly aware of the days slipping through his fingers, March already come and halfway gone. Their last semester of uni is reaching its end, their final days of class arriving quicker than they have any right to.
James isn't as stressed or anxious about it as he imagined he would be, though. He still doesn't know what to do after graduation, the career webinars he has attended not providing any magical solutions for his predicament. He knows fairly well in what area he wants to specialise, but that is a far cry from him knowing which jobs to look for. However, he is not freaking out about that anymore. He has come a long way from that boy who didn't know how to deal with his feelings of inadequacy. He understands his limits better now and he knows he is doing his best. It is not a question of not caring or not doing enough – he just hasn't discovered yet what will professionally fulfil him. Plenty of people take longer than the three years of university to arrive at a conclusion or to choose (correctly) in which way to go. He at least knows what he doesn't want, and that must count for something.
At the moment, James is more concerned in doing well in his last modules and in his dissertation and in enjoying his last days of school. He wants to make the most out of his final experiences in an academic environment, his final games as the captain of a football team, his last evenings going out with his best mates in the middle of the week and walking pleasantly home next to each other, silently revelling in the comfort that comes from passing a good time with the people you love and trust the most.
He wouldn't trade it for anything, especially because he knows his time is limited. So he makes a conscious decision to just enjoy every drop of it before it is over and they all move away from each other, starting their adulthood somewhere else and surrounded by different people.
Before that happens, James wakes up every morning determined to make the best out of his day. His routine is still firmly in place, and he likes to think he has found a good balance between study, football and pleasure. And being around mates who think similarly to him helps a lot.
- Honestly, how the fuck am I supposed to already know what I want to do with the rest of my life after three years of very generic, all-over-the-place education? – Helena Gaunt's boyfriend, Bill Anderson, is ranting as they walk out of the cafeteria after their small break between the morning lectures. – No, for real. Can any of you actually look me in the eyes and tell me you think you've learned enough in uni to become a full, prepared professional?
James chuckles. He doesn't, but that has more to do with the fact that he wasted the first two years of his school years not doing anything of relevance than with the education he received in Manchester per se. He glances at Lily, walking in front of him between Thompson and Elizabeth. She knows exactly what she will do with her future and has ensured that she got everything she could out of what the university offered. If he could think of anybody that would be prepared to become a professional, she would be it.
He stares for a while, glad that she can't see him. She is not participating in the conversation, just walking quietly, head down.
- No fucking way – Marlene replies from James' other side. She scoffs, readjusting her hand on Victoria's. – Sometimes I feel like I haven't learned shit in the past three years. I have no clue how I'll even find a job. I have no skills whatsoever.
- Don't say that, baby. – Victoria frowns at her girlfriend. – Of course you do.
- And even if you don't, - Thompson butts in, throwing Marlene a sardonic look over her shoulder – I'm sure the shitload of money you have sitting in the bank will help you a little bit with that.
Marlene immediately raises her unoccupied hand and flips off Thompson. The girl laughs and Sirius tsks next to her.
- Don't be daft, Thompson. It has nothing to do with money. – He shakes his head, his black hair dancing around his frame. He smiles devilishly. – But her surname is another thing, isn't it? I'm sure McKinnon must be listed somewhere as some kind of skill.
Thompson and Sirius laugh with each other at his quip, a very strange sight considering they almost never agree with something.
- Ha, the pot calling the kettle black! – Marlene retorts, shooting Sirius an unbothered glare. – And quite literally. I'm sure you'll struggle horribly to find a job being a Black.
Sirius fakes puking.
- I'd rather die than use that dirty name to my advance.
- I'm lost – Anderson says, after listening the conversation he started get completely derailed. – What's the deal with your surnames?
Bless people outside London, James thinks with a chuckle. He can't help but exchange amused looks with Sirius, Marlene and Elizabeth. It is easy to forget that not everyone knows the crap that goes inside the English capital's elite world. Better off that way, in any case.
- Never mind – Marlene shrugs it off. – It's just inside jokes. The thing that matters, Bill, is that I'm also completely unprepared for the real world.
- Right? – The lad has no issue in jumping right back into his previous statement. – I mean, I'm not saying we haven't learned anything, or that the quality of our undergraduate programme is bad or whatever, it's just that's not nearly fucking enough to get us ready to face an actual job, is it?
- Well, I think it depends on the programme – his girlfriend offers. – I think Law school gives us a pretty good idea of what to do next. Sociology I'm not so sure. - Helena arches a brow when she looks at him, mouth pursed in humour.
- Now, wait a minute – Anderson lifts a hand, making a face at his girl.
Oh oh, did they step into some touchy subject?
James is prepared for the furious debate that is certain to ensue, and he is half looking forward to it, when another voice floats towards them, reverberating across the corridor.
- Ah, there you are! I was wondering when we would cross paths again. I have missed you all terribly.
He doesn't need to look around to see who spoke. Every muscle in James' body tenses but he keeps on moving as most of them do. Only Helena, Bill and Chris Backwood stop to check who is talking to them, not being familiar with the bad blood between them.
- Ignore him – Elizabeth ushers in a low voice, beckoning their three classmates to keep on walking. They are about to turn a corner, silence having followed the first words of the prick, and he speaks again.
- Hey, Black. Guess with whom I had a lovely chat yesterday?
James sees Sirius falter in his footstep, but he doesn't stop, and the bane of their existence is swift to give the answer before they disappear into the next corridor.
- Mrs Cadwell.
James has no idea who that is but it is clear that Sirius does by the way he flinches.
- She's a lovely lady indeed, wouldn't you say? The only thing is that she can be quite chatty at times, if you know what I mean.
That makes Sirius stop. The other students slower their gait to try to understand what is going on and James is one of them. He looks at Sirius in search of a sign, but his friend's face is an inscrutable mask. He finally spins on his heel and stares straight ahead at Evan Rosier.
The git smirks.
- She's told me some very interesting things about the patients that come and go 'round Doctor Mills' office. - The venom leaks from the arsehole's tongue as he takes one step forward towards the group. He only has one mate backing him up, loitering behind him, but he doesn't seem to mind the disadvantageous number. - And, you know, I always figured you were a bit cuckoo in the head, I just didn't know it was so bad as to need a fucking babysitter to hold your hand while you cry all about your mummy and daddy.
James' blood freezes inside his veins. Rosier knows about Sirius going to therapy. Doctor Mills must be his therapist and Mrs Cadwell her receptionist or something like that. It is the only thing that makes sense, and it is the only explanation for Rosier knowing that Sirius is getting help. Which is arguably the worst that could have ever happened - not only word being spread of his friend's sessions, but to the last person in the world they would want privy to that. The person who will make sure to take complete advantage of the knowledge and put his best mate down as brutally as he can.
Well, over James' fucking body. He would sooner die than allow the arse to make fun of Sirius about his emotional issues.
Rosier must not see James' murderous face because he keeps going, unaffected.
- Or is it about little Reg that you cry when Doctor Mills is patting you in the head? I'm sure it must be a beautiful scene either way. I'd pay the big bucks to see that, it would be the entertainment of the week.
Without noticing, James starts killing their distance, a pulse pounding on his head as he comes closer, having no plan on what to do next except make the bloke close his disgusting mouth. He is only a few feet away when another voice joins the mix.
- Shut the fuck up, you twat. You have no idea what you're talking about.
James' steps waver at that. He has never heard Victoria sound so aggravated. She is a very chill bird in general. Rosier seems as taken by surprise as James, blinking and turning confused to the girl.
- Being emotionally healthy is no fucking entertainment, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. But obviously you don't know the first thing about it, seeing how ridiculously problematic you are. So go back to your bully friends and your pathetic little life, and just leave us the fuck alone.
James is so blown away he forgets for a beat about his rage at the prick trying to humiliate Sirius in front of all his friends. He simply stares back at Victoria, just like every one of them is doing, and is only taken out of his stupor when Lily's hand encircles his wrist, coaxing him to move. He goes with her, pretending not to hear Rosier's retorts though he gets the gist of it. His anger makes a faint comeback, but he is already too far away, and he has no other option but to let it go.
He wants to immediately pull Sirius to the side and make sure he is alright, but his friend doesn't give him a chance. He avoids his eyes, marching ahead at them and taking the left when James is supposed to take the right to his own classroom. He briefly considers following him and making him talk about what happened, but James knows deep down that this would be a bad idea. Sirius doesn't function like this. He needs space and he needs time. It would only make things worse if James would push him too much now. So he relents, walking defeated towards his second lecture of the day. Before they enter the room, he turns around to thank Victoria for her interference, which surely was the only thing that prevented him from jumping at Rosier's jugular, but before he can do anything, Marlene pulls her girlfriend away and gives her a kiss that puts every other kiss to shame.
James figures he can thank her later. Let her girl show her appreciation for now.
With a sour mood, James waltzes deeper into the classroom, taking his seat at the back, sinking on the chair to get ready for the next class. This time he has to work extra hard to get to the right mindset and not allow that little shit to ruin the rest of his day. It is a difficult task, and he knows that he will count the seconds until he can make an escape and find Sirius.
With this in mind, he sighs deeply and opens his laptop. There is work to be done.
Pads where you at?
You're not coming for lunch?
James had all but flown towards the cafeteria the second the professor dismissed the students, but he doesn't spot Sirius in the establishment. His friend is usually there by the time James gets out of his lecture but not that day. Knowing it to be a bad sign, James immediately texted him and now he hovers around the counter, waiting patiently for the reply.
It doesn't come.
He hesitates, wondering what the best course of action at the moment is.
- Hey.
James cranes his neck, looking away from the phone, and dark eyes pin on him.
- Hey.
- You alright?
- Yeah, just trying to get a hold of Sirius.
Thompson hums in understanding, coming to stand next to him. She stares ahead, seemingly interested in the options of granola bars on display. James glances back at the mobile on his hands, willing it to chime with the answer he is looking for.
- Rosier's a fucker. I really can't wrap my head around why he's such an arse with the two of you.
James offers her a scoff, attention back to the girl.
- We go a long way back with him. Our families know and have hated each other for too many years. I guess he just wants to keep the tradition alive here in Manchester as well.
Her brows furrow as she takes his words in.
- I don't understand shit about these London family dynamics. You guys are all mental.
- We are – James agrees with a chuckle. – Better not understand it, it's not worth it. – James shakes his head, looking around in the fruitless expectation that Sirius will just materialise somewhere in the café, and sighs. – I just wished it didn't affect Sirius so much. Every time is the same thing. Rosier or the likes of him go off, pushing Sirius' buttons and then it's days for him to bloody recover.
James thinks back to the episode during Christmas break, after their run in with the scum of British society at The Nags Head, and how Sirius took over four days to finally come around and return to his normal self. James clings to the hope that perhaps his mate is stronger now, that he knows how to deal with his emotions better than before, but it is a flimsy one. He has just started his treatment and, as they all know, the process takes time.
James can't fathom another streak of Sirius' broodiness and closed-off mood. Even more, he can't make himself imagine his friend stepping back and giving up therapy.
Thompson eyes him keenly as James dwells on the grim perspectives.
- He has to learn how to handle those arseholes. I guess therapy will help him with that.
James holds her gaze, seeing nothing but honesty. She is just stating facts. No judgement.
- Yeah, that's exactly the point. I just hope he's not discouraged after the shitshow. – As he says it, Elizabeth walks in, Marlene and Victoria behind her, holding hands and looking at each other like lovebirds. Lily is nowhere around, and he thinks of asking Thompson after her when his phone pings.
already home
needed to cool off my head
James shudders, relieved, and types a response.
J: Do you want space or do you want a friendly ear?
S: you can come, but don't worry I'm fine
rosier is bad but I'm badder
James lets out a satisfied laugh. His taunt muscles unwind slightly, and he can finally breathe unobstructed. He winks at Thompson, pocketing his mobile and moving away from the counter.
- I'm gonna go now, see you later.
He waves at the girls when he passes them by, telling them he is having lunch at home, and walks out of the cafeteria and in direction of the exit. In less than twenty minutes he is at Oak House and Sirius waits for him sprawled on the sofa, watching TV. His mouth pinches every two words, but he is overall fine, to James' immense relief. He is understandably upset and not up to chat as he did before their encounter with the sod, but James finds solace in his reassurance that he is still making it to his next session.
- I got a lot to talk about now, don't I? Finally introduce my therapist to the illustrious Rosier family. And perhaps have a word or two with her about her chatty receptionist.
James chuckles, relaxing next to his mate on the sofa, but his nerves take a bit more of time to loosen up from the stressful morning. The rest of the day helps, with his football practice in the afternoon and the Marauders having dinner with just the four of them that evening, James cooking them prawn risotto. The next few days go by similarly, in observation of Sirius, making sure he is indeed alright. His best friend is more withdrawn than he had been the past weeks, choosing to stay in that weekend and just standing in silence most times, but other than that he doesn't show signs of too much grievance. James plays close attention, and he is pleased to wish Sirius good luck on Tuesday before he goes to his training session and Sirius to his therapy one.
When Victoria discreetly asks James between classes how Sirius is doing, he informs her that he is shaken but still going strong. She smiles widely at him, and he smiles back, waiting a beat then looking around to search for the smile he really longs for.
The one he hasn't seen in a while.
With everything going on with Sirius, James took longer than he normally would to notice there was something different with Lily. But now he does, not seeing her anywhere. When he goes back into the classroom, he spots her in her seat, head twisted to stare at the window on the other side of the room. She looks ahead with a vacant face and blank eyes. Professor Carrow arrives before James can think of anything to say to her. He settles on his chair, but his eyes stubbornly wander back to her, to what he can see of her fiery hair loose around her slim shoulders, every now and then throughout the lecture.
He starts becoming more and more conscious and in the following days he can tell for sure there is something off with her. She still participates in conversation when she joins them for meals or during breaks, though many times she foregoes their get-together and leaves earlier, and despite her smiles and light involvement, her heart doesn't look like it is in it. It is almost like she is going through all the right motions of chatting with her friends and classmates only so she can take off soon after, to somewhere James has no idea.
He grows confused, and worried, with her change of attitude as March comes to its final days. Everyone is anxious with the end of the semester, the third-years running against the clock to finish their modules and dissertation in time, some of them so nervous about what will come after graduation they can barely eat, and yet it doesn't seem that any of this affects her. She is the best student of their bachelor programme, after all. She still follows all their lectures, and even with her participation now reduced to a minimum, her marks don't suffer for it, and he overhears her talking with Elizabeth that she is basically done with her dissertation.
So school can't be the problem. Is it perhaps her sister again? Or is there something else he doesn't know? He did get the feeling when they talked a while ago about her family in the library that there was something else, something that explained why she felt unwell on her birthday and of which she didn't tell him. James wonders if that is the issue again. That has her staying quiet when usually she is the most talkative of all of them, that has her looking far away from the present situation when usually she is so involved with everything.
James hates it.
With Sirius settling back to his usual temper, and their friends getting along as swimmingly with each other as ever, James has no other worries to focus on and so he feels Lily's reserved disposition to his core. Many times she just looks sad and James feels almost desperate to do something to change it.
But first he needs to figure out what the hell is going on.
He corners Marlene and Victoria during dinner after one of his football practices. Lily and Thompson are not around, and he manages to place himself a bit separated from the rest of the table, where he can fold his body towards the girls and prevent other people from listening to what they are talking about.
- Hey. Uh, have you guys noticed something with Lily lately? – he starts, his voice of a perfect nonchalance. - Maybe it's me, but I get the impression that she's not acting like her normal self these days. Did anything happen with her? Erm, that you know of.
Both girls nod instantly.
- Yeah, we noticed that too – Marlene says. – But I haven't the foggiest of what's going on. She's been like this for a couple weeks already. And she's been crying a lot lately.
James stiffens. His body is exhausted from the training, as it always is, but his brain is suddenly on high alert.
- Crying? Why? Did she say?
- No, she didn't tell us anything. – Marlene shakes her head, mouth pursed. – I haven't seen her crying, exactly, she's kinda always trying to hide it. But I know Lily, I can see when her eyes are puffed and her whole face is red after she comes out of the bathroom from a "shower" – she makes air quotes – that takes much longer than any shower should take. And she's always so quiet and distant these days, it's not too hard to notice the difference.
- Have you asked her about it? Tried to fish something out of her about what's happening?
- Yes, obviously. But she just avoids the question every time – Marlene replies, exchanging looks with Victoria. It seems like she is considering what to say next. Then she shrugs. – I imagine it must be something to do with her family, it's the only thing that makes sense. Though I don't get why she's not telling us. We've always told each other everything, but lately she's only talking to Cassandra. It's annoying.
She does sound annoyed. Victoria pats her in the arm, trying to pacify her, and James gets the feeling it is not the first time they talk about the topic. So he is not the only one who has realised something is off. Her friends are also aware that Lily is acting differently, and apparently only Thompson knows what is up. It doesn't help him in the least. He is not about to go ask Thompson about Lily - he already knows she won't tell him shit. And he doesn't want to bother either one of them with it. If Lily is not even telling Marlene about what has her sad, she certainly won't tell James. She probably doesn't want anyone to know except her best friend.
He won't push her on this, naturally. One thing he has learned being best friends with a difficult person for an entire decade is that you have to respect their boundaries. You have to know when your intervention is needed, or wanted. You have to let them just be if that is what they desire.
Which doesn't mean that James will sit still and ignore the way he hasn't heard Lily laugh her contagious laughter in too many days.
He puts his alarm to wake him up the next day fifteen minutes earlier. He dresses and has breakfast quickly, leaving a frowning Remus behind, not wasting his time to explain to his mate why he is in such a hurry that morning. He pedals fast to the Arthur Lewis building, crossing the threshold of the classroom with more than enough time to spare before their first lecture. That is exactly the point. Lily is already sitting in her usual spot, Thompson on the other side of her scrolling lazily on her phone. Lily is just staring at the white board, green eyes unfocused as if she is not really seeing what is in front of her.
- Good morning, girls – he greets them after he steps inside the room.
Lily twists his neck to him, steadying her gaze.
- Good morning, James.
- Potter – Thompson croaks, not even dignifying him with a look, gaze glued to the mobile in her hands.
Better off that way.
He smiles briefly at Lily, who averts her eyes after the first contact, then he moves in between the rows of chairs, reaching the one he occupies every day. He drops his school bag on top of the table and takes a fortifying breath in.
Walking back to the front of the classroom, he takes the available seat on Lily's left side.
She turns to him, blinking confused with his sudden reappearance next to her. Normally, after he says hi to the two of them, he settles on his own desk, and they only see each other again during the break or for lunch in the cafeteria. She probably finds it strange that he is angling his body to her now, an easy grin mustered on his lips.
After he secures her attention, he sighs exaggeratedly, looking around the room with a hand carding through his black hair.
- You know – he comments, conversationally. – I used to hate my new haircut.
He stares back at her just in time to see her knitting her eyebrows, eyes lifting to check the top of his head.
He smirks.
- But then it grew on me.
Her brows crease even more before they smooth. Her mouth pinches so hard it is but one thin line on her face.
- Jesus, James – she says his name with exasperation, but her posture seems to relax, and James is not going to relent.
- Yes, Lily? Never mind, I have a question for you.
- What?
- What's the pirate's favourite type of facial hair?
She pinches her mouth an inch further.
- What?
- A boatee.
This time the corner of her pursed lips twitch, just a bit, but enough to encourage James.
- Oh God, this is terrible. – She shakes her head, eyes rolling in tandem. – What happened? Did you wake up today with a deadline for all your dad jokes? So you need to get rid of them before noon?
- Something like that – he chuckles, shifting closer to her on the seat. – 'Cause you know what they say about a dad joke. You know when it becomes one.
- No, when?
- When it becomes apparent.
At this, Lily throws her head backwards and lets out a spirited laugh, and James' smile is so large he almost cracks his face in two.
He has missed this. Badly. Her tantalising, pretty laughter. Her squinted eyes and flushed cheeks. He hates seeing her upset, and he will do whatever is in his power to make her happy, even if only for a few minutes and only due to stupid, silly jokes.
He wishes he could do more, but he will accept this for now. At least he has her turning to look at him with no more of that blank, reticent expression, but in the way she has always looked at him – half annoyed, half amused.
- James, you're the worst. These jokes are so bad!
- They're alright. You should see the ones Dad put on the Christmas crackers. Those are the ones to feel embarrassed about.
- Oh, I can imagine. I mean, you have to have learned from someone, didn't you?
James cackles.
- You're not wrong. Though I would be so bold to say I'm an improved version of Potter Senior – he jests, and Lily's laugh recedes to a bright smile.
- I have no doubts that you are.
- Well, your faith in me is very much appreciated.
- I wouldn't call it exactly faith. It would seem more like bad judgement.
They laugh together again, earning a glance from Thompson, who finally abandons her phone to check out what they are talking about. Before she can, Victoria arrives.
- Hey, guys. Good morning.
- Morning, Tor. How are you doing this fine Friday morning?
- Brilliant – Victoria answers, and her gaze shifts rapidly between Lily and James like she is trying to understand the situation, and the former's sparkly mood. – You?
Lily grins.
- Good too.
- Good.
The two girls just look at each other, silence falling between them.
James clears his throat.
- I'm doing great too, thank you all for asking.
They chuckle, Victoria rolling her eyes, and James stands up.
- Despite your rudeness, Grant, you can have this seat. I'm going back to my chair. Professor Smith must be here anytime soon anyway.
- Alright, James, talk to you later.
He smiles to them, eyes lingering on Lily, before leaving to his place. Just like he called, the teacher walks in not two minutes later and starts her boring lecture. James wants nothing more than to doze off so that the next two hours won't bore him to death, but the exam of the module is only a month away and James is not willing to start slacking off after such a pristine semester so far. He rubs his eyes forcefully, twisting his spine until it cracks, and opens his laptop.
Fortunately, that is the only lecture of the day, then he will go straight back to Oak House. He is planning to skip the optional tutorial in the afternoon in order to go home to work on his discussion section before practice. When the time is up, he says swift goodbyes to the girls, noticing with a pang in the heart that Lily looks once again sad.
Sunday is time for the traditional Potter call.
As habitual, James phones his parents in the late afternoon, after having the preparation for the week that is about to begin all done. His mother picks up in the second ring.
- James, sweetheart.
- Hullo, Mum. How're you doing?
- All good here. Your father's out, he was supposed to be back before you called but apparently the meeting got delayed.
- Meeting?
- Yes, he was invited to sit along a new merger in the office. Just to give his expert opinion, I gather.
- Ah. The old man was getting bored stuck at home, so he decided to get back into the action?
- Something like that – his mother replies, bemusedly. – How are you, dear? Excited for your birthday?
James shrugs and is suddenly glad that Euphemia can't see it. He hasn't spared a single thought to the date, even though he is looking forward to turning twenty-one. The past weeks have been so taxing he just wants some time to relax without much ado.
- I am – he lies to his mum, though. – But I don't want to do anything too big. Just a small gathering with the lads is exactly what I need right now.
- Of course, dear. It's in the middle of the week, after all. When you come for spring break, we can do something nicer together, celebrate your birthday properly.
James grimaces.
- Uh, I'm not sure I'm coming home for the break, Mum. I was thinking about taking the time to finish my dissertation. And I'd be more productive if I just stayed in Manchester, you know?
He awaits, bracing himself, and he doesn't miss the pregnant pause that follows the news that he won't be seeing his parents in two weeks as planned. Truth to be told, James just prefers to stay away, and not only because of his thesis. He is convinced that ten days next to his parents will be more than enough to make him return to his old feelings of inadequacy and overwhelming anxiety. He has done a good job so far in respecting his limits and knowing how to navigate negative emotions. He has learned to acknowledge his shortcomings and play to his strengths. But one pushy conversation with his parents has all the probability of getting him to doubt everything he thinks he knows about himself, undoing the progress he has achieved the past months.
He doesn't want that. Especially when he still hasn't come to a decision regarding what to do with his future. He knows that will be the first thing out of his parents' lips the moment he sets foot at the manor. His plan, therefore, is to focus now on the dissertation and finishing up all his courses, and then deal with the inevitable clash he will have with the Potters when they discover that, no, James has not yet figured everything out as he told them he would. And that he is far from it. They will chew him up to pieces.
He prefers to delay the dreadful experience.
- You understand, right, Mum? – he adds, when the silence stretches a tad too long. – You know how hard I've been trying to be a better student this term, and uni's almost over. This is the time to push through, isn't it?
- Yes, of course. I understand.
She is not pleased with it, that much is clear by the tightness in her voice. James expects her to dwell longer on the topic or express her discontent with his decision, at least in the implicit, subtle way at which she is so good, but she surprises him.
- That's alright. I'll tell your father that when he returns, so we can reschedule our plans. But no matter, it's no hassle. We'll see each other at your graduation.
- That's for sure. And it's not even that far away anymore, is it? We'll be together again in a blink of an eye.
- Certainly, darling. I'm looking forward to it. – Her voice softens, and the next sentences are said in a much brighter tone, although it gets James to the right opposite. – Well, let's talk about more positive things. I have great news for you, James.
He is promptly on alert, wary of what the news could be. He has a strong feeling that he won't find it nearly as positive as his mother does.
- Yes?
- I've been digging around for a while, well, mostly since Christmas break, after our talk, and I've been able to finally establish a good rapport with Dorcas Meadowes from the Ministry. You know her, don't you? She has been to a few of our New Year's parties in the past but, unfortunately, I never managed to be very close to her until very recently. She happened to need my assistance with something, and one thing led to the other and, through her, I secured you an interview with Her Majesty's Inspectorate of Constabulary, the HMIC. You've heard of them, haven't you, James?
James' throat has dried so fast the only thing he can offer is a raspy noise that faintly sounds like agreement.
It is enough for his mother to keep going.
- They're the organ responsible for assessment and reporting on the police forces in England and Wales, and that's the direction you're thinking of taking your career after you graduate, isn't it? You've mentioned that you would like to stay on the side of investigating police practices, and even though you'd be appointed by the Crown at the HMIC, you wouldn't be officially tied to the government. You could still work independently.
She stops talking, as though to wait for James to say something and when he doesn't, she doubles down her efforts.
- It sounds great, doesn't it? And you're already one step inside, I'm sure you'll get the position.
Of course he will get the position, there is no single doubt. He is the son of Euphemia Potter. They will give him the job with eyes closed and probably with a ridiculously high salary to boot. The perspective makes James sick. As if he hasn't received enough benefits in life, as if he is not privileged enough, his mother will handpick his job for him, probably having a dozen of much more suitable and experienced candidates rejected without a second look.
It is nepotism at its finest.
And his mother says it as if it is something of which to be proud. As if he should be happy for the opportunity, which is less an opportunity and more wealth concentration served on a silver platter. And he can't even be mad about that. Isn't that exactly what his family, and everyone in their inner circle, has done throughout his entire life? He surely didn't go to the best schools of England because he earned it, nor did he spend the past years only "focussing" on his studies (when actually he was just indulging himself with parties, drinking and football), with no need to work part-time to afford his lifestyle, without his parents to financially support him. He can't start complaining about his privileges now. He can't be that shameless.
He can, however, turn down his mother's offer, because hell will freeze over before he takes the job.
He goes with the most palatable excuse.
- It does sound great, Mum, and thank you for going through all this trouble for me. – He tries his hardest not to sound sarcastic, but he is not so sure he succeeds. – It's just that I don't think that's the right track for me. I don't see myself working for the HMIC. So thank you, but I won't be attending the interview. You should let Mrs Meadowes know as soon as possible.
The pause that ensues is so heavy James feels it on each inch of his bones.
He is a dead man.
- Excuse me, James? Did I hear that right? – She takes a deep breath in, and James lets his head fall defeated against the backrest of the desktop chair, where he is currently sitting. Here it comes. – My son, who has told me repeatedly that he has no idea what he wants to do with his life, is refusing to even attend an interview in one of the most prestigious and respected institutions of the country because he can't see himself working there?
The last words are only a hiss and James mirrors her deep breath.
- I might not know what I want to do with my life, but I sure know what I don't want to do – his reply comes weakly, and he hopes she has heard it.
She has.
- And what is it that you don't want to do? Work with the police, scrutinizing their function, which is exactly the topic of your dissertation? How does that make sense, James? I need you to be very clear with me right now.
- Mum, I don't want to work with the government, not even indirectly. I've told you that before. I don't want to be a part of one of the most prestigious and respected institutions of the country. – Maybe he added too much bite to the last sentence, and he hopes it doesn't trigger anything on her. He just wants this call to be over. Having such a conversation is always awful, having it through the phone is almost unbearable. – I want to join organisations that are doing real work in the fight against police brutality, and I want to find that organisation by myself.
- And how have you done so far? Any luck?
Her voice is bitter, and James knows he needs to end the call. Right away.
- Look, Mum-
- No, you listen to me, James Potter. We've been more than patient with you for already too-
A faint noise on the back cuts his mother off and James is filled with relief. He hears his father's voice in the background, and he takes the way out as it presents itself.
- Mum, I gotta go. We'll talk about that when we see each other again, alright? It makes no sense to have this kind of conversation through the phone.
- James, I'm not done-
- I'm not coming to the interview, you can already count on that. Send Dad my regards and we'll talk again in a few days, on my birthday. Or not. – He chuckles, humourlessly. – Call me only if you want. Bye.
- James-
He hangs up, and immediately puts his phone on airplane mode. He is one-hundred percent sure she will try to call him back, but he can't spend one second longer talking to his mother. He feels so drained he doesn't even move to his bed, he just lets his body sag on the chair, eyes closed and hands on fists.
The situation is becoming impossible to endure. Even with his predisposition to avoid confrontation, James can't imagine keep going like that. It has come to a point where he is finding excuses not to be around his parents anymore, preferring to spend his time alone, buried in study, than enjoying the holidays with his mum and dad. And this is absurd. They have always gotten along so well. James has always been a proud son of Fleamont and Euphemia, always liked being surrounded by them. That is why most of his free time while growing up he would spend at the Potter Manor, constantly inviting the lads to come over since they met ten years ago. His house and his parents were always a safe haven, always the place where everyone converged. And James has always felt comfortable and loved there.
Not anymore. He can't even get through a call with them before he is out of his wits, not standing to listen to his mother's voice any longer. And he knows that if he hadn't turned off his phone his father would have joined in, and things would have escalated even more.
As it is, it is unsustainable. They can't go on like this anymore. And James knows he is the one who will need to address the situation and put some boundaries in place. Let them know he needs them to back off. He has no fucking clue how he will do that, though, and just imagining it gives him the chills, but there is no other way. Anything is better than their relationship at the moment. James will just have to man up and face his worst fears.
After ruminating for an hour in his bedroom, he has the impulsive urge to leave. He goes on a walk on Platts Field Park, taking the long way back home and finding solace on the bench under the willow tree before he returns to Oak House. It has been a while since the last time he needed to isolate himself from the world in that particular spot. Lately, he has been mostly in charge of his emotions and the direction that his day went, not needing an escape from reality. Naturally, one phone call with his parents was enough to change that.
He goes home when the late-night envelopes him and the March breeze turns too cold to stay outside. And yet, he finds his way to the bench everyday of that week, craving the comfort that the solitude of the place gives him.
On Wednesday his parents call to wish him happy birthday and he spends a grand total of five minutes talking with them before he tells them, a lie, that he is late to meet his friends to celebrate his day. His mother doesn't mention the interview again and they say goodbye to each other without any prospects of a next call. That evening he didn't have a game, fortunately, so he just stays in with his dormmates and the third-year birds, ordering kebab and watching telly together. The girls give him a fresh pair of Adidas trainers and a tight hug as a birthday gift. He hasn't touched Lily that closely since they "broke up" in the beginning of December and the short contact has James' skin feeling sensitive for the rest of the night.
The lads give him various presents – a book from Remus, a t-shirt from Peter and a therapy voucher from Sirius ("Like I'm the only one with issues in this group"). He laughs, content with the people he calls best friends, and the day ends much better than it has started. Which doesn't dissuade him to, once more, seek the loneliness of the willow tree.
On Thursday night, he is no longer alone.
- Hey.
It is her.
The only other person who knows of the place.
His heart swells then withers, in the timeframe of one fleeting second as their eyes lock. He doesn't really know when that started to happen, considering they were doing so well in the past few months and he was doing a great job at being only her friend, but he can tell that his self-control is starting to slip. Perhaps it has something to do with the end of the semester and all the pressure it entails, perhaps it was his talk with Sirius about her feelings and the spiral of doubts that it provoked, or perhaps it has been the torment of seeing her looking sad and not being able to help.
Either way, when she fills the space next to him on the bench, her vanilla scent, pretty smile, and some unruly curls hitting him simultaneously, James feels like his love is about to burst. He has become an expert in pushing it down, numbing his affections while she is around him, but right now that seems three times harder than ever before. He turns his head to face forward again, blinking and swallowing forcefully, trying to tame his wild heartbeats.
In the absence of his greeting, she speaks again.
- Am I bothering you? Should I leave?
He shakes his head, telling himself to stop being such a git and talk to the girl normally. Once more, he takes too long, and she leads the way.
- I'm sorry, I know you come here to be alone. It's just that- uh, I've noticed you've been here a lot lately and I was, eh, I was wondering if you were okay. But I can go, if you want.
He can't look at her, so he just musters a tiny smile and finally manages the words out.
- You never bother me, Lily. Please, stay.
She doesn't reply but she doesn't stand up and leave either, so James goes back to his attempts of relaxing, gaze zeroed in the grass in front of him.
A few moments pass before she starts, quietly.
- Did something happen?
James sighs and shrugs.
- Nah. It's just more of the same. – He pauses, watching some leaves fall from the tree behind them and swirl in the air. – My parents.
- Oh. They're still being overbearing?
James nods.
- Mum got me an interview for a job at a hotshot governmental institution, after she did a favour to one of the bosses. Didn't ask me whether I wanted it or if I felt comfortable being common currency in the politicking she loves to fucking do. Just handed it to me on a silver platter and then lost her shit when I said I didn't want it.
- Oh.
He chuckles, darkly.
- Yeah, oh. And, you know, I acted all tough when it happened, revolted with how the whole thing was done, upset at Mum for not seeing how fucked up this kind of nepotism is, but now that I'm thinking of it… What a hypocrite I am. I mean, I've spent my entire life being sheltered and spoiled, never had to work one goddamn day of my life, probably only got into Manchester because of my last name, and only now am I getting mad with the way things are done in our shitty society? Like, have I just noticed that now? Where the hell was I looking at all this time? And, fuck, I can be mad all I want, come fucking June, I'm still to return to the bloody manor I live in, with the money my parents give me every fucking month, and sit prettily until I can find a job. Which I probably won't by myself, since I don't even know what I want to do, and much less am minimally prepared for the real world.
James inhales heavily after he stops talking, taking his spectacles off so he can rub at his eyes, hands ending up tangled on his hair as he pulls at it, vexed.
- It's just… I think what really fucks with me is that I have no reason to be all worked up. I mean, talk about first-world problems, right? – He scoffs, hands still running through his black locks. – Getting all mad because mummy practically secured me an amazing job. Complaining that if I say no to that, I'll have to go back to my beautiful, comfortable, fucking huge house to search for another opportunity, while all my bills are being taken care of and I don't need to worry a second about how I'm going to survive the next day. And that's the thing, you know? Every single time I feel frustrated and I want to get angry at them, or at my situation as a whole, I just can't. I feel like the world's biggest privileged twat, so I shut my fucking mouth, which only gets me even more frustrated. It's a vicious circle, is what it is.
He shakes his head, putting his frames back in place. He still doesn't look at Lily, and almost misses when she talks, so very soft.
- It's not just because there are bigger problems in the world that your problem doesn't matter. Regardless of how small you think it is.
He crooks a half-heartedly grin.
- Knowing that doesn't make me feel better, Lily. Every time I look around I see people struggling with things far worse than me, how can I play the victim?
- It's not playing the victim. It's acknowledging that what your parents are doing with you it's not fucking alright. – She sounds incensed, and the difference with her previous almost tamed tone makes James finally turn to her. She stares back at him, face scrunched in aggravation. – When I hear you talking about the things they put you through, I want to go after them and fucking shake them until they stop being such a- such- so unfair with you!
James chuckles breathless, a bit caught off guard with her intense reaction.
- Nah, Lily. It's not their fault. I mean, they can be too much at times, but they mean well. That's just how they were raised and that's how they lived their lives so far. They think that's the right thing to do and that they're helping me by-
- Stop making excuses for them, James! – she snaps and James startles, body jerking on the bench. – It doesn't matter their intention, what matters is the fucking result. And all they are accomplishing by pushing you around is making you feel like you're somewhat less. – She huffs, averting her eyes to the sky, cheeks flushed in anger. – When I hear how you talk about yourself, I just- urgh, I want to slap you all across your face until you stop being so damn clueless. How can you not see that you're- Urgh! You know, sometimes I wish you were the person I thought you were in first year, an arrogant, cocky bastard who didn't care about anything or anyone. It'd make my life so much easier.
- Easier? – James laughs nervously. He doesn't know what is happening. He can only look at her wide-eyed.
- Yeah, much easier – she replies, staring back at him, eyes roving his face. After a moment, she sighs, temper calming down. – Look, James. I know you love your parents, and of course they love you too. I know you think they're only doing what they think it's the best for you, and I'm sure they think the same. But it doesn't matter. It's hurting you. It's making you doubt yourself, it's making you feel insecure. And I know you want to do something about it. You hate that you can't tell them to back off and that you can't stand up for yourself. And you know what? – She scoffs lightly, shaking her head. – Now I get why you can't. Because every time you get rightfully upset, you talk yourself out of it. You make excuses for them, you minimise your feelings or your struggles, and you tell yourself to let it go. You put yourself down so when they do it, it doesn't hurt so much.
Her words hit him square in the soul.
James releases a shuddered breath, snapping his neck forward as his eyes get flooded with tears. He feels his chest threatening to collapse and he closes his eyelids, forcing himself to breathe in and out.
Get it together, James.
He swallows thickly, sensing Lily move closer to him, her sweater brushing the sleeves of his jumper.
- I'm sorry – she whispers next to him, voice wavering in a certain urgency. – I didn't mean to upset you even more. I'm so sorry, James. I'm sorry.
- It's okay – he manages to get out, cracking his eyes open. He inhales deeply. – It's okay. Somebody has to tell me the ugly truths. And you've always been good at that.
He snorts, watery, but she doesn't follow him.
- I'm really sorry, James. I know your parents love you, and they never meant to hurt you or put you down. I'm sure of that. I just don't think they see the impact of their actions and by shoving it down, you're hiding it from them and making it impossible for things to ever change.
- Yes. You're right, of course you are. I guess I always knew that, and you're right when you say I want to do something about it. I do. Every time it happens, I want to say something. I just can't.
- Why not?
James shrugs.
- That's how I was brought up. Mum taught me to always be friendly and agreeable, to never snap or get into fights with people, never let them know what I'm really thinking. So I grew up pushing any negative emotions away, and maybe that's why I spent all this time only wanting to have fun. I never liked to be serious or to think about important stuff. It was just easier to go through life as if everything was a party. That's always been my comfort zone. – He chances a peek at her, after he thinks he is back in control of his features, and she is watching him attentively. – I have tried to change that in the past year. I think I made some progress, just not- not with them. I guess that's my weakness. Because they're so good when it comes to everything else, and they love me so much and do literally everything for me, I think I'd just feel guilty to hate them.
- You don't have to hate them. You can see their qualities and how good they are to you, and still acknowledge their flaws. It doesn't need to be a breaking point between you. They just need to hear from you that enough is enough. That they need to back off and let you live your life without all the pressure.
James swallows, nodding. There isn't a single thing with which he doesn't agree with her.
Before he can tell her that, she calls him. Suddenly, quietly, seriously.
- James. - He brings his eyes to her and sees her brows knit in concentration. – It's not your fault you were born rich and privileged. There's no logic to the way of the world, to why some people are born in a refugee camp, and we are born here, with food, love and comfort. It's not fair and it won't ever be. And we won't ever understand why. But it is how it is, and there's nothing we can do to change this. – She offers a small tug of lips. – Maybe many, many years from now, if we become politicians or billionaires that can do something to change the world, maybe. But right now, there's nothing to be done, except recognise it. Acknowledge our luck and privilege. Not close our eyes to the injustice surrounding us. – Her gorgeous emeralds shine with emotion and James feels his chest start to crumble again, but there isn't anything he can do except keep listening to her talk, raptly. – And you do that. Every day. You are aware of your place in the world, and you don't take anything for granted. You're working hard and trying your best to be a good person. What else can anyone ask from you? Just because you were born wealthy, does that mean you have no problems? That you're a bad person if you struggle, if you get upset when bad things happen to you? That makes no sense, and no one thinks that. – Lily's throat bobs up and down, and she averts her eyes, hands coming on her lap to wrangle with each other. – You're loved by everyone around you, James. And that's a testament to your character, to your actions throughout your life. It has nothing to do with your surname, your money or your parents. It's just you. – She looks back at him, and she seems like she is forcing herself to hold his gaze. - You're wonderful, James. Don't ever forget that. And if your parents can't see that, then fuck them. They need to learn how to stop selling you short or steamrolling all over your feelings. And you have to stop letting them. It's the only way.
They stare at each other for long seconds. James' heart pounds painfully against his ribcage and his breathing comes laboriously. He doesn't think he has ever been praised by anybody the way Lily just did. She has lifted him up, as he has never been before, all the while still being firm and telling him things as they are. No nonsense. Just spelling it out as she sees it.
There are a lot of things he wants to do at the moment, all of them involving touching her, so he goes with letting his head fall back, resting on the top of the bench. He closes his eyes again.
– Thank you for your words, Lily. I'm not sure I believe all of it, but I know you're mostly right. Especially about my parents and how I need to stop letting them get under my skin. I know I need to do something about it. I know that and I will do it, someday. I think. – He scoffs. – I hope.
They fall silent, the garden around them a soothing melody of whooshing breeze and faint, distant voices from students coming and going to their campuses. James allows the minutes to weave by, feeling his chest raving up and down slowly, settling in itself. Despite his battered heart, his mind is calm.
Eyes still shut, he tells her what he realised a long time ago.
- We always talk about me. – His voice is serene, as it is when someone is just stating facts. – I get the feeling you know me inside out. I wish I knew more about you.
A beat.
- What do you want to know about me?
Everything.
- Do you ever get scared when you think about the future? About what you'll do after we graduate?
- Hm. Well, maybe not scared. I do feel the pressure to do well, and of course sometimes I worry things won't work out like I want them to. But, uh, I'm quite certain about what are the next steps, so I never get too scared.
He opens one eye to peek at her.
- And what are those? The next steps.
- Erm, in September I'll start a master programme in the University of Greenwich. Criminology, Gender and Sexualities.
James opens both his eyes, shooting his head up.
- Really? Have you been accepted already?
- Yeah, actually I just got the acceptance letter last week.
A jumble of thoughts goes through James' mind with the information. First of all, it is amazing news. As he always knew, Lily got exactly what she aimed for and as she should, naturally. She deserves it. Which brings him to the second thing his mind clings to – the previous week Lily looked miserable. She definitely didn't appear in the least like someone who received such great news, which is what she always dreamed for herself. He can't help wondering why. His last realisation is that this means that, for the next year, she will be only twenty minutes away from London by train. That detail gives James such a crazed mix of feelings he decides not to focus on it right now. He will need to reflect on that later on, when he has the time and the privacy.
Since the last two thoughts that swerve through his fazed head make him more confused than anything else, he decides to concentrate on the first one.
- Evans, this is fucking brilliant! This programme's perfect for you. You're gonna fit right in.
She smiles gleefully, perhaps the first time she has done so since she came to share his sorrow with him under the willow tree.
- I know, thank you. I'm super excited about it.
He ignores the obvious fact that, except for the present moment, she hasn't looked one bit excited about the news in the past many days. He offers her a cheerful smile back instead, also his first since he sat on the bench.
- You should. It's amazing. Your parents must be over the moon.
- They're happy – she replies, but the way she says it doesn't impart as much certainty as one would think when talking about the parents of someone who is doing great in their life. He tilts his head to look more closely at her.
- That's another thing I want to know about you. Your parents. Do they ever meddle in your future or try to tell you what to do?
- Nah, never – she retorts, chucking lightly. – I mean, like I said, they're happy for me, I know they're super proud. But it's different. Mum and Dad have never been very successful, at least professionally speaking, nor have they made a lot of money in their life. Mum is a nurse at a local hospital and Dad works at a butcher shop. They always got on just fine, but they're not the ambitious type. They want me to do well, of course, but in which area never really mattered to them. As long as I am my own woman, happy with my choice and able to pay my own bills, it's all they care about. And they'd support me either way. Just like they support my sister and her housewife goals.
- They sound awesome.
Lily grins.
- They are. They're simple, humble people. But they're good, better than most I've ever met, and that's what counts.
- It is.
Silence engulfs them again, this time less heavy than the last one. James thinks of Lily's parents and how wholesome they sound, he thinks of his own parents and what he needs to do to break the toxic pattern they have fell in the past year, he thinks of how good he feels sitting next to the redhead, even when they are not talking, even when he feels like there is so much wrong with his life.
Lily clears his throat loudly, out of the sudden, bringing James back to reality.
- Erm, are you, uh, coming to the party tomorrow?
- Party?
- Yeah, at Woolton. Cassie wants to introduce us to Virginia.
James takes a full minute to understand what she is talking about.
Virginia is the Latin-American bird Thompson was seeing last time James heard about it. Apparently, things are getting serious, and they are taking the next step. He had no idea they were throwing a party for that, much less the very next day.
He falters.
- Hm, I'm not sure. I'm not exactly in the party mood lately.
She is not having it.
- James, you just turned twenty-one and you barely celebrated it. You've been running yourself ragged to get everything done and to do well at school. But you also need to take time to relax a bit. And tomorrow's the perfect opportunity, since we're all getting together anyway to meet Virginia. You lads have to come.
She doesn't ask him, she tells him. What can he say?
- Yeah, sure. We'll be there.
He regrets coming to the party the second he sets foot inside the chaotic common room.
He doesn't know what he expected, but the dozens of people squashed inside the average dormitories, loud music blasting all over the rooms and the corridors, and the indecent amount of liquor going around wasn't it. But his regret really comes when his eyes lay on her for the first time in the night.
She is wearing a mini pleated skirt with a black, tight tube top. Her hair is braided up in a ponytail, leaving her neck and collarbones completely exposed due to the low cut of her shirt. She looks so good James grunts out loud, gulping nervously with the perspective of spending the entire evening with her in plain sight. He is already feeling his determination to stay away, and stay only friends, waver with each passing day. He has no idea how he will survive when she looks that sexy, as if she was made just for him.
Sirius sees his struggle and, instead of taking the piss as he normally would, he commiserates with James, clutching a hand on his shoulder and telling him to stay strong. It only speaks to how screwed James is that even his best friend doesn't dare to joke about his predicament.
James takes a steadying breath and moves inside the room.
He adopts a strategy of facing his downfall square on, walking straight to Thompson and Lily to greet them and get it over with. If he avoids her now, and keeps skirting their interactions, it will only make it worse for him in the end. So he joins them, all smiles, asking how they are doing and inquiring after the new girl, Virginia. That is the whole point of the evening, isn't it?
He is introduced to her shortly after, a brown-skinned nineteen-year-old with cat eyes and two dimples on each cheek. She is gorgeous and James can tell that Thompson is crazy about her. They barely can keep their hands off each other, and James exchanges smirks with Lily when they snog in front of them for the third time in a row. When they apparently forget they are presently in company, uniting their mouths for far too long, Lily turns to James with a snicker.
- Every time we go out, this happens. Honestly, I'm used to it at this point.
- Well, you've always been very close to Thompson, indeed.
Lily laughs, red hair swinging left and right in her ponytail.
- Not this close. I'm basically part of their relationship by now. Not even a third wheel, just a full-on active member of the relationship.
They share another laughter, twisting to watch the couple still kissing before looking back at each other with a roll of eyes. Lily has an easy grin on her lips, and their distance is so inconsequential that James can see all the freckles on her face, and the pretty mascara making her eyes pop. Their gaze lingers and James can't help himself.
- You look beautiful tonight, Lily. – His voice is low, and he unconsciously shifts closer to her. – I mean, you always look beautiful, but tonight you're even more. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen.
He doesn't know how the last part escaped his mouth, except if he was to explain it by his weak self-control of late, but he wishes he could take it back as soon as he sees Lily flushing.
Violently.
Her entire upper body is taken over by a blush so intense that her cheeks look like they are going to burn up in a fever, her whole face so red it seems ready to explode at any moment.
He blanches.
- Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. – He takes a step back, left hand shooting to the nape of his neck, squeezing it anxiously. – I shouldn't have said that, I'm really sorry.
She shakes her head, face still on fire.
- You didn't make me feel uncomfortable, James. Er, thank you for the, uh, compliment.
She speaks quietly and he is certain she is embarrassed, although she said she wasn't uncomfortable. He feels awkward, upset with the slip-up. When Thompson finally lets Virginia go, James sighs, internally relieved.
Staying around only the mandatory time until it is considered polite, James untangles himself from the girls as soon as he gets the chance, hitting the kitchen and getting himself a cold beer. Then another one. On his way back, he spots Marlene and Victoria chatting with Helena and Bill, and he spends the next hour listening to them talk about a variety of things, ending with their career prospects and what they are planning to do come June, and that is when James takes his leave. By his sixth beer he feels slightly tipsy, which hints to the fact that he has gone too long without drinking for real. At the peak of his wild phase, he would only begin to get inebriated by his tenth bottle. His tolerance has gotten evidently lower.
He is about to switch the alcoholic beverage for some soda when Sean Paul starts playing and Sirius kidnaps him to the dancefloor, placing a vodka with coke on his hands.
- Mate, tonight you're gonna let go – his friend shouts in his ear as they find a tiny space among the several bodies that crush them from all sides. – Forget about all the shit going on. Forget about the future, about Monty and Effie, forget about her. Just have fun. It's our last few weeks here. Let's fucking enjoy it!
So James does it. And, to no one's surprise, he gets massively drunk.
He has no idea how many drinks he has, one following the other in a messy haze, put between his fingers by his sneaky best friends. He goes along with it, always wrapped around someone, heavy arms circling his shoulders, screaming the tunes next to him. It is a welcome distraction, and he clings to it during the night, glad to ignore how he sees Thomas Shaw chatting up Lily or how his skin tingles, urging him to send everything to hell and touch her again.
He focusses his attention on the beat surrounding him instead, on his body bouncing to the music, and suddenly he finds himself dancing with Nuur Shafiq.
He hadn't noticed her approaching him but now she is right in front of him, small hands grabbing his waist to bring him closer to her. He goes, pliantly, his drunken eyes zeroing in how nice she looks that night. The fabric of her hijab is of a dark purple tonight, matching prettily with her dark eyes. She looks up at him, and there is no doubt she wants him. She rubs her chest and stomach on him while she dances, face hovering only a few inches of his, and James' head is spinning, and he is momentarily lost in it all.
He hasn't been with someone since Lily, and that was months ago. He misses being touched, he misses kissing plump lips and feeling a soft body against his.
But what he really misses is one woman. Nothing else.
He blinks, mind too numbed by the alcohol, and finally finds the ability to move backward. Giving a gentle squeeze on her wrist, James releases Shafiq's hands from his waist and walks out of the dancefloor. He reaches the kitchen and braces his forearms against the edges of the sink, head bowed. He needs to stop drinking. He has gone too far, and he is not used to it anymore. He is one cocktail away from making a big mistake, so it is time to cut his losses.
He tries to fetch a cup on the top cupboard to fill with water, but he almost drops it. His vision is blurred and he can't make sense of much around him.
He definitely can't make sense of Lily showing up in front of him.
She is talking to him, but he barely hears it. He shakes his head vigorously, tells her he is too drunk. She gets closer, asks him if he is alright. He thinks he replies but he is not sure because next thing he knows she is between him and the sink, and then his mouth descends on hers, and he throws his arms around her so she is flushed against him, and his lips devour hers, and he can't breathe but he doesn't stop either. He only does when he realises he has her hopped on the counter, his fingers eagerly reaching under her skirt. He swerves his mouth away, cursing, apologising, trying to step away, but she kisses him again, and he doesn't resist, her taste and smell filling all his senses, making him even drunker. Then they are walking. He doesn't see where until a door closes behind him and his jumper is off, her hands on his belt next, and his brain is shot to hell, his mouth and hands everywhere on her skin with a despair he has never felt before.
He knew he shouldn't have come. He knew he would regret that night. He knew he was about to make a mistake.
Yet, when he is inside of her again, nothing else matters.
A/N: Who's ready for some real angst? Cause things are about to go downhill, so brace yourselves hehe