"Their lives affected many, and their death is a great loss to everyone." There was that

word again. Death. The terrible word that had torn Lily's parents from her loving grasp.

Lily wanted to cry. Wanted to but couldn't. "They will always be alive in the hearts of

their loved ones." There was now a humming noise in her ears. She was suffocating. She

couldn't breath. She couldn't think. As quietly as possible Lily turned around and

slipped through the trees behind her and walked towards the ocean. She stopped on the

edge of the cliff and looked at the waves below her, totally oblivious to the one person

who had followed her.

James stood at the edge of the trees watching the girl in front of him. He gazed at her

porcelain skin with a few delicate freckles covering her nose, her deep green eyes so

filled with sorrow, her skinny figure shivering in the cool air, he just wanted to hold her.

He knew better than anyone there how it felt to loose a loved one, and to have to live the

rest of your life thinking you might have been able to prevent it. A lock of her red hair

had escaped from her barrette and was blowing across her face, and it took all of his self

control not to run to her, to brush the hair off her face, and to kiss her tears away. Her

light black dress was floating around her legs swaying to the wind. There was no other

word to describe her, she was perfect. Carefully so as not to startle her he took a step

forward.

Lily was looking down at the waves that she had once found so calm and majestic. Now

they just looked cruel and violent. How many years had she spent up here playing with

friends, having picnics with her family, or when she wanted it, using it as a special

thinking place where she could be alone. And now for the first time she really needed

somewhere to find comfort, but the only place she knew to go to was filled with painful

memories that she didn't want to be reminded of. Her thoughts were interrupted by the

soft crack of a twig. She turned and saw James Potter. Look at that smug face; he was

here, perfect Potter. Of all the nerve, just to be here, at her parents funeral, always happy,

living perfect life, no pain, no hurt. It was like a dam broke, hot wet tears rolled down her

face, and splashed onto her dress, soaking through the thin black material. She ran at

James Potter and hit him square in the middle of his chest. She felt a little satisfaction at

the surprised look on his face. She hit him again, and again, and again, until she was too

weak to keep hitting, and then she collapsed onto the floor. In one motion he scooped her

up and cradled her like a baby. She made a feeble effort to push away, but achieved

nothing. His strong arms held her close, and she realized he smelt really good. She leaned

in a little closer and rested her head on his chest. Wait what was she thinking, arrogant,

mean James Potter, who insisted on making her life miserable. He was constantly asking

her out, not because he liked her, but because he knew it bugged her to no end. If he

really liked her maybe she wouldn't mind, maybe she might even say yes, but she knew

he didn't like her. No one would ever like her. Her eyelids felt heavy, she didn't think she

could keep them open much longer. She blinked once, twice, and then she gave up and

closed her eyes immediately falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

James looked at the peaceful sleeping Lily curled up against his chest. She fit against

him perfectly. He wished he could preserve this moment forever; he closed his eyes and

pretended that this was real. Here they were finally together. But he knew this wasn't

true, she didn't want to be there, she didn't like him. He would never show it outwardly,

but six years of rejection had hurt him. Every time she rejected him it was like she was

stabbing him with a knife. As gently as possible he pushed her hair to the side, brushed

his lips across her forehead, and whispered I love you.