Chapter Eight

A/N: So, here is chapter eight. I was a bit delayed in posting it because It's been a very stressful past few days. Thanks for your reviews, and I hope you'll continue. It truly brightens my day. This chapter is a little short, but at least it's finished. I'll update soon.

~~**~~

Chapter Eight

"What do you think he's up to?" Laura asked, glancing at Lily, "Sirius, going to into the library? I didn't think he even knew where it was."

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know."

"Will you put that book down and listen to me?! Honestly, Lily, you'd think it would be permanently attached the way you haul it around."

"I was listening. Sirius, library, I heard you," Lily muttered, turning the page.

"We should follow him, see why he's in there."

"I don't really care why he's in there."

"Well I do, so are you coming or going?"

"I'm not spending my time spying on Sirius with you. I'll see you later."

Laura shrugged, "Alright. Guess it'll just be me then. Better that way anyway. I'll look less conspicuous." She entered the library, trailing behind Sirius.

~~**~~

Lily glanced longingly to the window, wishing she could sit and read by the lake, rather than inside. The weather had become increasingly colder over the past few weeks and she thought that if she stayed out for too long she might freeze. Early November had brought no snow yet, but the clouds hung overhead like thick gray blankets, blocking out the warmth of the sun.

Yes, she decided, it's definitely too cold out there. Laura had been in the library for nearly an hour now. What she could find so fascinating about spying on Sirius, Lily could not understand, but, then again, there were quite a few things Laura did that Lily didn't understand. It was only three in the afternoon, but it would be dark soon. "That's what's bad about this season," she thought, "It's always dark too early." The sound of the portrait opening caused her to look up.

"You might want to tell Laura that if she wants to watch Sirius, she should try to be less obvious. I saw her peeking between a couple of books on the shelves," James said, smiling at Lily. He sat down in the chair facing her, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so guilty."

"What did you say to her?"

James grinned, settling back in the chair, "I told her the view might be better from the next shelf up."

Lily laughed, "I wish I would have gone with her just to see her face. What were you doing in the library?"

"Attempting that essay for McGonagall. How I'm going to finish it by tomorrow I have no idea."

"Just do what you always do. Scribble down a few quotes and stretch it out as far as you can."

James smiled, " I resent that, Lily. You know I take great pride in my work." He looked down to the book that she'd placed on her lap. "What are you reading now?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo," she said, looking fondly at the cover, "yet another relic from non-magic life. It's about a man whose entire life is turned around when,-" she looked up at James, who was watching her with a quiet smile. "You don't want to listen to book summaries, I'm sure."

"Why not?"

"Well, because, never mind," Lily smiled, "anyway, it's about a man who is sent to prison for a crime he didn't commit. He's torn from his father, his freshly stating career, and the woman he was about to marry. During his imprisonment, he figures out that his friends had plotted against him, each man's jealousy bringing them to create a plan that would rid him of their lives forever. But, he escapes the prison, and is determined to find revenge. That's actually all the more I've read so far."

James had been listening silently, observing her, watching the way her face lit up when she retold the story. He smiled, "How does he escape the prison?"

Lily laughed, retuning his smile, "You'll have to read it sometime."

"I might." He would never actually have the chance to read it. The book would still be sitting on the bookshelf when Harry's infant screams rang though the silence of the ill-fated house. A house that was yet to be purchased, where the smells of spice and warmth and the sounds of a crackling fire were yet to be heard. James and Lily's house. It would be a home Harry would never remember.

Lily nodded, "You should. You might actually enjoy it." She caught the sight of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to look out the window. "It's snowing." The first snowflakes had begun to fall, soft and feather-light. She rose to her feet, crossing the room with a smile on her face. Feeling like flinging open the windows and letting the powder fall into her palm, she gazed at the sky through the window panes. "It's a bit early, but it's snowing. I told you it would be a cold winter." James moved to stand behind her, watching as the light snow began to speckle the ground.

"You were right," he said. Standing so close to her, he could smell the soft scent of her perfume. She turned to him, beaming.

"I have a knack for these things." Her emerald eyes were alive with mirth; she looked happier than he'd seen her in quite some time. James was fighting an internal battle, and losing remarkably. If only she wasn't so close, gazing up at him with that smile…

"Lily…," he said quietly.



She closed her eyes, feeling his fingers brush against her cheek, unsure whether to listen to her mind or her instincts. The sensation of his fingertips on her skin was driving her thoughts away at a rapid speed , and she opened her eyes to meet his. Lily placed her hand tentatively on his, searching vainly for a reason to pull away and finding none. She could feel her defenses crumbling, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, and this terrified her more than anything . She was open to him, unguarded. The realization painfully apparent in her gaze, she forced herself look away. "He knows," she thought, "how can I look at him….he knows."



James ran a hand gently through her hair, his fingers gliding through the soft tresses, lingering at the nape of her neck. Lifting her chin, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers softly, his senses flooding. The warmth of her petal-soft lips was intoxicating. She reached up to touch his face, delicately skimming her fingertips over his skin. Finding it increasingly difficult to control his own fervor, he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her closer, the sweet fragrance of vanilla filling his nostrils. Lily allowed her arms to find their way around his neck, her heart pounding furiously against his. Their lips parted only momentarily, meeting again more passionately, James more sure of himself and Lily drowning in the sudden onslaught of emotion. She was fully aware of her desire for him, knowing that if this continued, she would not be able to regain control. Unable to withstand the intensity of her own feelings, she jerked away from him, surprising not only James but herself.



Lily looked fixedly at him, her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady. He appeared hurt by her abrupt rejection, but she could say nothing. Instead, she stood rooted to the spot, struggling to calm her heart, and to fight the heat that had been slowly rising in her body. She watched agonizingly as he stepped away, the pain evident in his eyes. He made as if to touch her arm, but withdrew his hand. She wanted to tell him to stay, to wrap his arms around her and let her stay there, feeling loved and comforted, but her mind was reeling.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said softly, and then he was gone. He'd walked out of the room while she stood lifelessly, only able to watch. The quiet was hard to endure, broken only by the sounds of the wind against the windowpanes. Lily stared miserably out the window, resisting the hot tears that were threatening to spill, making her vision blurred. She closed her eyes, her lips still tingling from his kiss, and let out a shaky sigh. The snow was beginning to taper off, leaving the sky gray and cold once more, and in the silence of the deserted room, she realized, with staggering impact, that she loved him.

~~**~~