ABOUT TWO YEARS LATER...        

            I don't like homework.

            Not exactly a dramatic or shocking statement on my part, but all the same, I believe it says a lot about me. Thinking about it, I don't think I've ever met anyone who actually likes homework. I don't think even the teachers like it - after  all they have to mark it.

            You see, I was trying to do some homework. Trying being the main word here. My homework had been set a week ago by our Potions mistress, Miss Scelestra, and was due in the next day. So, there I was, sitting at a table in a suprisingly quiet common room doing my homework, although it is really Miss Scelestra's homework as she set it in the first place. And it's not even homework as I am not at home; as I said I am in the common room.

            Ok, re-phrase, I was sitting there doing Miss Scelestra's common-room-work.

            By now you can obviously tell I was stalling and rambling - not a great combination. Why was I doing this?, you ask. You see, the longer I sat there, the longer I could stare at this girl in the opposite corner. She's my best friend's other best friend, although it is only a very recent thing.

            At that moment they were playing chess.

Together.

Somehow or other I had never spoken a nice, friendly sentence to this beautiful girl, for that particular reason. She was beautiful and undoubtedly she is still beautiful. Very, very beautiful. And clever and witty and charming and friendly and I could go on forever. But to cut it short, she is perfect. The epitome of perfection in all shapes and forms.

And as she is beautiful I get nervous. And when I get nervous I get arrogant. I know this. But I can't - or possibly, won't - solve this 'problem'.

Of course she didn't see me staring at her. She never saw me at all. To her I was just one of Sirius's 'guy friends'. The guy with the messy black hair who had an ego problem. I don't really have a ego problem (or at least I don't think I do anymore), it's just the way I go whenever she's attempted conversation with me. I'm not very good with girls like that. The last time she tried speaking to me was fifth  year, while I was being an absolute prick to put it frankly. I guess she kinda gave up after that.

            I think I should tell you some important things about me, but I don't like to talk about it really. It's kinda painful in a way. And it embarrasses me. I come from a long line of pureblooded witches and wizards. My family had a very high status in the wizarding world for centuries, highly influential with a great deal of power. That is until sixteen years ago.

            Sixteen years ago my father  was with his wife and three other children in a large country retreat  near the Lake District. They had been enjoying a quiet family Christmas together, doing everything a perfect family did in the festive season. They went carol singing, decorated a large blue pine Christmas tree, wrapped hundreds upon hundreds of presents and spent quality family time together going on long walks and exciting day trips.

            Then I turned up and completely burst their bubble. My mother carried me in her arms and finally stopped on their large doorstep with me, tucked up in a pale blue shawl. There she presented me to my father  and left. Forever. She did not want to be burdened with me.

            It seems my father was not the wonderful man first appeared to be. He had paid my mother for her love nine months previous, whilst going through a rough-patch with his wife. He had stormed out of his London mansion in a rage.

            He visited a bar in Knockturn Alley and drank straight vodka for two hours before stumbling out of the building onto the dark street. He had wandered about the Alley before finding himself outside a brothel house where he preceded to take my mother for a mere fifty  sickles.

            So that is what I am - the unwanted result of a intoxicated night. There was no love involved in my conception, just pure greed on both sides.

            At that time I was little more than an orphan. But my father grudgingly took me in and I have remained with him, his wife - my stepmother Augusta - and my three half siblings, Topaz, Lorenzo and Morgead. All such stuck up, over the top names and me. Plain old James. Not to say they weren't nice people. I adored Topaz, she was the best big sister in the world to me, I don't know how I would've survived without her.  But they were all very good to me through my childhood and I'm beyond grateful, it's just... it never felt right.

            Anyway enough about me.

            I decided to put my Potions away. Hopefully Sirius would help me with it later.  I also decided to go and talk to said Sirius, and maybe if I'm feeling particularly  in control, Lily too.

            As I get up and walk across the crowded common room, I heared a group of Sixth years talking about me. Whispering, 'checking me out'. I don't like that about girls - no matter what people tell you. I was sick of people feeding my ego. Believe me, I would've given a lot to be completely stupid and ugly for one day, just so I could walk places in peace. Did that sound arrogant?  Probably...

            It was also because of the ego-feeding that Lily doesn't like me. It made me stuck up. And two years ago by the lake, I realised that. And I then realised that I didn't want to be like that. I wanted to be happy and being happy means Lily.

            "Hey, Prongsie. How's it going? Enjoying life as the new Head Boy?" Padfoot looked up, sensing me there. He patted the space on the sofa beside him and I flopped down.

            "It's okay, I guess, haven't had to do much so far. Wish Dumbledore had given me some warning, I mean, how is Head Boy supposed to act? Anyway... couldn't give me a hand with Potions when you're done, could you? Only I'm failing completely and I cannot fail my NEWTS or -"

            "One day after graduation, it's adios  and hasta la vista baby. You're not going to spend your life stuck in you're father's home, living off his money whilst he dispises you for having a one-syllable name and bringing down the family's honour. I know, I know." Sirius reeled off the exact words I was about to say.

            "Do I say that too often?" I cringed.

            "It wouldn't be a normal day at Hoggy-Warts if you didn't say it, mate. I would greatly fear for your health and do disturbing things to you with a thermometer." Sirius grinned back and then swore as Lily took his rook with a daring move. I had forgotten she was there. I blushed.

            "So, Lily," I started, not stuttering, not being arrogant, "what're you doing for Christmas this year?"

            She looked up surprised and I got to see her eyes. Like pools of absinthe swirling around her small, dark pupils.

            "I think I'll probably be staying here, James. You?" she replied, politely, still looking somewhat taken aback after this break from  our mutual muteness.

            "He always stays," Sirius spoke for me. "We both do. Surrogate brothers, see?"

            "Oh." came the timid reaction. "Erm... would you mind if I asked why?"

            Padfoot glanced at me, asking with his eyes. I just shrugged and moved Sirius's bishop myself to take two rather obnoxious pawns that had been blowing raspberries and making obscene hand gestures at his queen.

            "I stay because I cannot stand my family. There're great people, really, they are. And no matter what I say I know I'm very lucky to have them in some ways. It's just I feel like a nuisance to them. Sirius stays because... well... his family are evil. And his house is bloody freezing at this time of the year." I looked at her directly.

            "I go to James's during the summer. Moral support, that kind of thing. And escape from my godforsaken mother." Sirius added, the last sentence uttered under his breath.

            Lily nodded, "Right."

            "Now you've gotta tell us about you're sordid family that persuades to stay at Hogwarts." I leaned forward, grinning. The conversation seemed to be going well.

            Lily gave a ruthful half-smile and shook her head. "Not much to tell really. There're Muggles, as you know," she looked down into her lap as if searching for the words there, "Dumbledore said it was safer for us all if I remained at Hogwarts, what with the attacks and all. Voldemort." She spat out the name, keeping her voice down.

            "You say his name?" I questioned, genuinly interested, and she inclined her head slightly in conformation, "Good for you."

            I knew what she meant. Everyone knew what she meant. Voldemort had been growing steadily in power over the past few years, attacking and killing Muggle-borns and their families. People had even started referring to him as 'You-Know-Who' and stuff like that. Ridiculous, I thought, fearing the name only makes it worse, although to some even a mention of his name terrified them.

            Sirius tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows, his lips pinched tight together.

            "What a group we make, eh?" he commented, half to himself. "Well, we'll have fun over the holidays - just about everyone's going home. Even some the Muggleborns. Didn't Dumbledore warn them?"

            "He warned us all, but it was only advisory. Didn't have to, not like he can keep us here under force."

            "He could have a good go though, I expect," I added.

            After that the conversation more or less tailed off. Lily beat Sirius, hands down and then left to talk to some of the other girls. Sirius and I returned to Potions. We were the only two out of the Marauders who'd decided to continue with it  after OWLS. We needed it if we wanted a chance at being Aurors.

            Anyway, soon, with Sirius's help, Potions was finished and us two settled down to a game of Exploding Snap.

            After a couple of games and the loss of nearly all my eyebrows, which were now singed leaving the sickening stench of burning hair. Sirius was crap at the game to be blatantly honest. I reckon he did it on purpose, just to irritate  me (who was the only person stupid enough to play against him).

            I got up to leave for bed, "Aw, come on, mate," said Sirius, "Just one more game, eh?" I stopped, sighed and sat down without saying a word. There is no point arguing with ol' Padfoot as he always, always wins. I dunno how he does it, but he seems to possess a natural charm and charisma that makes it impossible to feud with him. Either that or the simple fact he's my best friend and has been for years.

            Sirius shuffled the cards and then spoke, as if just a passing comment, "You've changed, James."

            I nodded. I knew what he meant, but then we had all changed, Padfoot included.

            "I know it, Si."

            "Why?" he asked, still shuffling, though slower now, not really concentrating on them anymore.

            I shrugged, like I always do. "Just... well, because." I replied.

            "Of what?"

            "Things. People. Why does it matter?"

            He was now dealing the cards. "It's not you, Jamesie."

            I boiled. What did he mean 'not me'? How is it not me when it is me being this way? Within me I felt something that had been sitting there, deep inside me for years, all of a sudden snap. Before I knew it I found myself shouting at him.

            "You don't even know who I am, Sirius! I don't even know who I am!"

            And with that I grabbed my cards and slammed them down on the table. There was a huge BANG! as the cards combusted and shards of the table flew across the room. Everyone turned round. Staring at me. Like I was some freak-show.

            "I am sick and tired of people telling me things! Telling who I am and what I should do and why I should be better. I'm sick of it!  SICK!" I stopped short. Lily's words from two years ago rang clear in my ears. "You make me sick." I whispered. "Sick."

            I looked up. And the fled.

            I ran again. Like I always do.

            I run away from my problems because I cannot handle them and because I cannot share them with others. I cannot trust.

            Tears stung my eyes. I'd tried so hard to fit in when I'd first arrived at the school. I was cool and confident. Girls wanted me and guys wanted to be me. So why hadn't I been happy? Why was it, no matter how hard I'd tried, I never seemed to 'fit'. Nothing ever felt right. And perfect.

            Why could I not play on with the hand that had been dealt to me?

            I was a selfish brat. That's why.

            But every time I'd run away, I'd thought about it and slowly I had realised that nothing is ever perfect. No matter how fast or far you ran, the problems stay with you. Yet I still would not except that. After all, I was James Potter. To the rest of the world, I didn't have problems.

            I reached the Astronomy Tower. It was dark and cold. As I climbed onto the battlements that circled the edge I felt the winds icy hands reach out and slap my blanched face onto which salty tears once again threatened to fall.

            I shook myself. i You're seventeen years old, Potter. Get a grip!/i my mind cried. Looking down I saw my hands clenched into tight fists, in my arms you could see the blue veins pushing against taut skin, bulging out unnaturally. Weaving around the scars, however, was my other secret. Thin, purple  slithers of scars, that had begun to form  in place of scabs, that I knew writhed from my shoulder to the base of my palm. Smooth and purposefully done.

            From my pocket I pulled a bashed packet of cigarettes plus a box of matches. Sitting on the low wall, long, lanky legs suspended over the distant ground below the Tower, I dragged a match along the rough box edge. My hand shook slightly as I lit the end on the fag, before I shook the match, obliterating the flame. I took a drag and watched the end glow amber in the winter darkness while I tried to hold the smoke within my mouth. The tar filled air burned my throat when I breathed outwards, settling into a steady routine;  drag, hold and out, drag, hold and out...

            "Tut, tut, tut, James Potter. Head Boy now, remember? You'll smell like an ashtray after that." a voice came from behind me. I didn't recognise it immediately, so turned round to see Lily standing a few feet away from me, hands grasped and entwined before her, looking nervous. Why should she be nervous?

            "Don't matter." I turned away. Drag, hold and out. Drag, hold and out.

           
            "Can I talk to you?" she spoke again. Shouldn't she just leave? Did I look like the kind of person able to have a sensible and civilized conversation with the love of my life at that very moment?

            "What's stopping you, Lilikins?" This time I didn't turn round.

            To my surprise she simply came over and sat beside me, facing towards the Tower instead of out over the grounds like me. It reminded me of the love seat my mother had at home, where two people could sit facing each other, yet still next to each other, in this way. She held out her hand.

            "Give us a smoke then."

            I stared, raising a single eyebrow, before passing her the packet.

            "Thought I would smell like an ashtrash if I did that, Miss Head Girl." I commented dryly. Drag, hold and out. Beside me I heard the match flare and then gutter once the white tip was lit.

            "Yeah, well," Lily retorted, "never told you to put it out, did I? Plus I'm over 16 now - it's legal." She tilted her head towards me, raising a similar eyebrow in my face. I smirked and returned my eyes to the Forbidden Forest spread out at the edge of the Hogwart's grounds.

            For a while we sat in silence. Drag, hold and out. Over and over again, the same rhythmic pattern. Oddly enough, it was a comfortable silence. I never thought silence with Lily could be that way. Easy and nice and oh so simple.

            Eventually, I stubbed out my fag, completely burnt down to the orange paper. Clearing my throat I decided to start proper investigation into why she'd joined me up here. Why, after five years of dislike followed with two years of silence, had she been the only one to come after me. If she had, at any rate.

            "So, Lily," I began slowly, "of all the towers in all of Hogwarts and you had to walk into mine. Care to share the reasoning?"

            She smirked and rolled her eyes. "And what if I don't?"

            "Then I may be forced to push you off this wall onto those painful-looking turret points down there." I gestured towards them, tall, black metal spikes that stretched into the air like warped thin fingers frozen in mid-air, clawing at the midnight sky.

            Lily followed my gaze, a cigarette still hanging limp from the corner of her delicate, rosy lips. "I'm in a good mood tonight," as though that was the end of the conversation without the desire to elaborate any further.

            "And you haven't been in such a mood for the past two years, hmm?" I looked at her out if the corner of my eye. I saw her recoil slightly, casting her emerald orbs of eyes around as if searching for an answer nearby.

            "Two years ago, you were a prick." she replied.

            "But I've changed haven't I?"

            "I'm not sure if you really have, James." she stubbed out her cigarette next to the ashes of mine. "I mean, what you said in the common room is what made me follow you. I'd spoke to you for the first time in ages and then minutes later you exploded saying how you were sick of pretending to be things.

"And I guess, I want to know what the real James is like. All I know you as is either a humongus git or a silent wraith of a person, but I liked the James in the common room. You weren't attention seeking or arrogant or painfully shy either. You were... nice."

            "Nice?"

            "There's no other word I can say really. I've met more charming people, funnier people and more talkative people but you're still nice. Nice is a good thing to be." Lily smiled. The first real smile she'd ever directed towards me. I think.

            "Well... I'm glad you think I'm... nice." I stuttered, butterflies rising from the pit of my stomach as she smiled at me. "You're nice, too."

            She stood up and brushed herself down.

            "Thanks for the smoke," her tone was less friendly now, more business like, "And just so you know, in classes you're still Potter to me and I'm Evans to you. Got that?"

            I frowned. What did she mean? "Got it." I replied.

            Lily nodded and began to walk away back into the tower and return  to the Common room before curfew. Just as she reached the door, she stopped and turned to look at me. Before I knew what she was doing, Lily walked back over to me and stopped looking confused. I raised a questioning eyebrow.

            "Erm... I... um..." she began then sighed, "Goodnight, James." Once again she turned and walked briskly back and into the tower before I could say a word in return.

            Turning back to the night, I gazed up at the stars sewn onto their rippled blue sky. I was a lovesick teenager who now knew they stood even the slightest glimmer of a chance with the one person they truly desired. All of me seemed to flow away at the feeling. Was it love? Was I in it, whatever 'it' was? I didn't know and I didn't care. Closing my eyes, I whispered my reply,

            "Sweet dreams, Lily."