A/N: how unoriginal. I am trying, I really am.

Disclaimer: this work is not mine. J K Rowling had the idea: I am just fiddling. And working with her masterpiece hoping to give myself something to do. John is mine all mine. And maybe a couple more characters I shall add also.

Torn.

Chapter one, reminiscing

John and James. Twins. Best friends forever.... Or so they thought.

It wasn't long ago now. That night. Lily had been there.

John was part of her. She was part of John. They thought it would always be like that. They thought the happiness would last forever. They thought wrong.

She could remember his smile: slightly crooked. He had a long, bent nose; which told the tales of past years gone by, and messy black hair, just like his twin, James. He was attractive – there was no denying it. Lily had fallen for him on her very first train journey to Hogwarts all those years ago. But there was no room in this world for love. She mused bitterly to herself. It had been two months now, she hadn't come out of her room, except for lessons in two months, and she hadn't made any contact with any body. Baring James: she never spoke to him, but night after night she wrote letters. Her tiny scrawl covered parchments and parchments conveying her true feelings to someone she had barely spoken to before it happened.

Staring out the window it was almost dusk. Lily was alone in her dormitory: Still, and silent. Her eyes glazed over, they didn't seem real anymore, more like blank holes, empty tunnels leading to nothing. It hurt so much. Even to look at James. But she had to cling to him. All she wanted was a tangible link with him, john, the one. She had thought they were soul mates. Before him there was no one, nothing. Before him she looked down at all the girls, blushing and making fools of themselves over boys – after all women were superior. He had changed her. Changed her by his touch, by his eyes, by the mere mention of his name, and she embraced this change with all her force.

Across the greenery of the school she could see the forest. She remembered how one day they had crept in to the outskirts and sat there all day whilst the rest of the school had been stuck inside in lessons. Another time they had picnicked by the lake at midnight: The moon looking down on them with a wise stare, emitting all her light for their pleasure. In lessons they stuck together. Both chasers on the quidditch team, they always passed to each other. A bond that no one thought could be broken. Obviously they were all proved wrong.

"He was all I had," Lily whispered to herself in the steely cold quiet of the dormitory.

It was November and the ice-cold winds whipped through the corridors chilling her body to the bone. They had been looking forward to Christmas, snuggling up in the common room in front of the fire, together in the red arm chair that they sat in so much no one else dared to sit there since then, she hadn't sat in it. She hadn't stayed in the common room for more than a minute. She had remained confined to her dormitory.

But now she wanted to escape. The stuffy room that she had spent so much time with him in was choking her. Everywhere he seemed to scream at her. Everything reminded her of him so much, too much and she had to get away. His face in those last seconds of his life was haunting her. It was impaled in her mind, white hot and burning inside her head. And when she opened her eyes it seemed to be everywhere she looked. The tears dripped freely now. Wishing for a strong fast link with society and life, as she had known it, was no longer enough. She didn't just want to escape: she needed to.

His greatest fear had been death - Death by drowning. And that was how he had gone.

She blamed herself. She had suggested the swimming trip. They had been swimming many times before in the great lake at Hogwarts, and indeed out of school. She couldn't have known for the best. Nothing could have prevented it – she had been told continually, yet it didn't help. Voldemort. He was the one to blame. That monster had struck. But still she thought: if I hadn't asked him to come for a walk that night. He would still be here. Still be with me.