Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight...

A/N- Hey everyone! Last chapter... And to think, I didn't think I'd be able to finish this before the release of the "Half Blood Prince". It does feel fitting that this story end on the eve of the event you've been waiting for (I posted this a bit early so you would have time to read it before reading HBP) so I'll try and make this little note brief.

To explain- I wanted to write the letters so you could see the progression of the relationship for yourself, but there wasn't any time and letters are the kind of thing that I would be mulling over for weeks so it's better off without them.

To reviewers- Thanks for reading and giving me your input. Both the criticism and the praise (as well as your funny stories that made me laugh) did not go unnoticed. I encourage you to check out some of my other stories under my profile too... though not because I want tons of reviews or anything but because I'm eager to see what you guys think about them. You all are awesome at reviewing and showing me where I can improve my writing, the plot, etc... So thank you. It has been a pleasure writing this.

Oh well, so much for being concise...

-Kait

Disclaimer Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do not belong to me.

Chapter Ten: The Gall of James Potter

September, Seventh Year

I had thrown most of the letters into the bottom of my trunk. It was an odd feeling, to be honest. I didn't want to destroy them...but I wanted to get them as far away from my sight as possible. It made no sense. I wanted to believe everything he had said in them was true, but I didn't want to trust him. Words could be twisted at will and I had learned that much too young. Who was to say if he had meant every word or if he was laughing at my potential gullibility right this moment?

Anyway, I hadn't replied to him. I had decided not to encourage him whether his intentions true or otherwise. It was better that way, I told myself continually.

Alice, at any rate, thought me an idiot.

"He's the Head Boy and you're Head Girl; how is it even possible for you to avoid him?" she had challenged me.

But as I walked up the steps with her and into Hogwarts I felt that it had to be possible, at least for a little bit. He couldn't love me, he just couldn't.

Why did he have to go and say those three stupid little words? We had been getting along fine and I had been starting to feel more comfortable with him. Now I just felt confused and a bit horrified. I liked writing letters to him; telling him trivial things about my day that might not seem important to the general onlooker, but felt normal to tell him about. I told him about Petunia and how she freaked out every time I apparated down to breakfast or from Diagon Alley (in the last letter I wrote him).

After a while, it had felt so normal to confide in him the way I did. He always replied so patiently and never seemed to run out clever anecdotes to take my mind off of my father's dwindling health or my sister's increased efforts in her pursuit to avoid and ignore me. I had felt as though my family was slipping away, like sand through my fingers. I couldn't stop them from disappearing, but I could confide in James and lean on his letters to keep me from falling as well. I could feel it now; I had put too much of my trust in him.

How was I to know I could trust him? Sure, I felt something for him, or I probably wouldn't have spent my summer writing to him whenever I got the chance (Alice informed me, of course). It was just fact that I was letting my emotions cloud my logic that infuriated me. And I hated that he did that to me. He was just a boy and I every time I questioned myself more about him, the more I got confused.

I was scared. Not just because I didn't trust boys but because of my horrible wanting for him to sincerely mean what he had written. Why did I want him to love me? I shuddered at the possibility of love normally so why did he make me defy everything I believed in? Or thought I believed in, I suppose.

Just what I need, really. More questions for myself to sort out, I thought as I entered the Great Hall and avoided a certain person's eyes. If I didn't have enough to sort out already...

At that, I sat down with Alice at the Gryffindor table and watched blankly as the Sorting began...

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So far, I had done fairly well in my efforts in elude him. He and I only had a few classes together, so I made sure to sit next Alice and some of her other friends, or better yet in front of Severus Snape when we had lessons with the Sytherins. I thought that in a few weeks or so he might get the hint and move on to another girl. Yet, it disturbed me how upsetting the thought of James pouring his affections onto someone else made me feel.

In the halls, I kept my head down and buried in a book. The less he could see of me meant the less likely he was to recognize me. I did the same at meals, if I decided to venture into the Great Hall. For the most part, I got a steady intake of food from the house elves and Alice. She grudgingly brought me breakfast every morning while lecturing me on how if I would just "talk to him already and you wouldn't have to get other people to sneak food to you as if you are a prisoner." All other meals I got from the kitchens either two hours before the meal started or two hours after, depending on where I noticed Potter to be at the time.

Unluckily, I couldn't avoid him the first Head meeting with the headmaster, as Alice had pointed out to me. Suddenly, I wished I could hand that shiny badge over to someone like Marlene, who wanted to spend as much time as she could with him.

I arrived slightly late, just so I could be sure I wouldn't end up walking there with him.

As I entered his office ("Peppermint toads!") Professor Dumbledore smiled lightly and I noticed James in the corner smile an almost sad smile as well.

"So, I believe it is safe to assume that you both know why you are here?"

We nodded. Well, I did and I didn't look over at James but I supposed he did because Professor Dumbledore went on.

"As you know," he started, his blue eyes twinkling as he sat down and gestured for us to do the same. I did, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute and he continued, "Being named Head Girl or Boy bestows a particular sort of honor upon you and I daresay you feel that honor. There are many duties that come with such an honor, as there always is, and I hope that you can fulfill these duties successfully. Your first duty, as you may have already guessed, is to arrange Prefect meetings. These meeting will help..."

I listened as best I could but having James there, sitting next to me, was so distracting. He confused me so much. Now, the one moment he had to look at me without my head buried in a book or concentrated on the classes I was in and he was sitting there listening to Dumbledore? I suppose he had finally decided after the past week that I wasn't worth it.

My heart sank when I thought of that. But I told myself not to care. I didn't want him to feel anything for me, if he really did, that is.

It was lucky that I already knew what the duties of Head Girl entailed; otherwise I would be spending my time in a very foolish manner. I would just be content (for the most part) when this meeting was over and I could retreat as quickly as possible to my dormitory.

Luckily for me, the meeting was very short. I had shaken Professor Dumbledore's hand and gotten out of his ornate office faster than I expected.

"Lily!" a voice called from behind me, but I only sped up more quickly.

I had reached the third corridor and was almost halfway to Gryffindor Tower before I let myself pause to listen behind me.

Was that it? Just one try to get my attention and then he had given up? I suppose I couldn't expect much, I had, after all, been treating him like dirt. Was that any way to treat someone you loved?

Oh no, I take that back. I didn't love him; I didn't love him, I couldn't love him...

Love was just another emotion that could trick you into stupid things and make you so shallow you didn't even recognize yourself...

Quite abruptly, I felt someone take my arm and pull me backward. I almost had the urge to scream.

He was standing there holding my arm in his hand as though he had popped out of nowhere. He looked upset, maybe even angry... I couldn't tell; I was too busy feeling shocked.

"Let go of my arm," I said, as calmly as I could.

"No," James replied firmly. "You haven't talked to me in weeks. You didn't even respond to my last letter... How can you just... I don't know, leave me hanging like this?"

I tried hopelessly to wrench my wrist from his grasp.

He looked into my eyes again when I didn't respond and added, "Don't you realize how I feel?"

I looked away. I felt unworthy of letting my eyes met his hazel ones. Didn't he realize that I wasn't...?

But suddenly, I couldn't think of any reason to doubt him or to question how I could possibly trust him because he pulled me towards him and met my lips with his.

It took me a second to register something other than the tingling sensation I felt when he kissed me. Once I noticed what exactly was happening, I brought my face away from his and started talking.

"Stop it," I chastised him loudly and glanced at his handsome face, "I can't be... I couldn't..."

As I trailed off and started to back away from him, he only seemed to hold onto my hand tighter.

"Then stop running from me," he said desperately, "Stop running and maybe I wouldn't have to get your attention that way."

He kissed me again and I attempted to push him away as he held me close in his arms like I might slip away at any second.

"Stop it, Potter," I replied back at him, trying despairingly to break free...

"I think it's about time you called me James," he murmured quietly.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes. I was not going to cry, I promised myself. If I do that this will be just like any other moment in some sort of overdone romance on television.

"Lily...," he looked as utterly confused as I felt. "Say something. Do you really not feel anything for me?"

He loosed his arms around me and appeared so completely heartbroken that I went against everything I had just promised myself and broke down into tears. I let my head rest almost lifelessly on his shoulder as I thought recklessly. How could I put my messed, jumbled thoughts into words? He couldn't possibly understand how confused I was by all of this. He couldn't understand how content I was to be in his arms and how frightened I was that I let myself stay there. I wanted to love him but I didn't want to. I trusted him but I didn't. Nothing made any sense to me.

Why couldn't I have just died there right on the spot and put us both out of our misery?

Of course, that might mean a bit more misery on James' part but at least he wouldn't have to deal with a mental case such as myself.

Oh, why was I wasting time on such stupid thoughts...

"James," I began uncertainly and picked my head up off his shoulder to meet his gaze. "You can't love me; I'm too messed up to be loved."

He managed to chuckle softly as though I had just played a trick on him. "But I do. And you're not messed up."

"Yes, well, I'm having some trouble at the moment sorting everything out." I thought back to my mother. What would she have done in this situation? Well, first of all, she wouldn't have gotten into this kind of situation because she had been too much of a romantic to resist a person she loved. But right now, she would tell me to kiss him. And I wanted to do that but something in my brain kept telling me to stop. To think about everything I had learned about boys and love... And my mind was blank. I'd never been told what to expect if a boy really was in love with you. I had learned to be wary of boys but nothing about boys in love. And I had heard plenty on love; most of it was good... So why did I feel so scared?

"If you don't feel the same way, just tell me," he said simply, his eyes boring into mine.

Something inside me finally found the words.

"I do feel the same," I said softly, "I'm just scared."

He looked bewildered. "Of what?"

"You," I replied simply. I waited for the anger but it didn't come. So then I waited for an accusation but it didn't come either. So finally I just waited for him to speak again.

"I'm that scary?" he said with a small smile. "I love you, Lily. What is there to be scared of?"

I just looked at him, wondering how much I could tell him without putting trust in him or scaring him off. He watched me as well and patiently waited (which was unnatural for him) for my response.

"Your intentions," I answered, the thoughts I had pent up starting to babble helplessly out of my mouth, "Your feelings for me and how quickly they may change, how much trust I can put in you, how attached I could possibly become..."

"I'm not intending on breaking your heart, if that's what you mean," he stated defensively and interrupted me, his hazel eyes lighting up with irritation. I felt him loosened his grip on me yet again.

I felt hopeless. I might as well confess everything I had been feeling since my mom died. It would be hard, but at this point it seemed it was the only thing to make him understand how messed up I was.

That is, if he hadn't caught onto that fact yet.

"It's not just you," I began softly and brought my hand up to rest it on his shoulder. "It's everyone. I don't trust anyone; I don't let anyone in... I just... Let my emotions bottle up...and...hope they fizzle away or something."

I felt like an idiot, but I went on anyway. "I haven't been able to trust anyone since...," I could barely get the words out, "...Since my mom died and I... Sometimes I feel like I have to avoid it. ...Avoid love and then I won't get hurt again. I won't have to feel what it's like to be lost without someone you loved and...well, depended on so deeply for so long. ...So that's why I think I can't love you, I just can't."

James gave me a half-hearted smile (I think so that I wouldn't run off again) but his words were the most sincere things I'd ever heard uttered from his mouth. "Lily, if I ever die or let you down, I'll make sure that you're the one killing me...all because you got sick of me."

I choked out a laugh and started to hug him. Could I trust him? Did I love him? Even though I was still a little wary of him, I felt like the answer to both questions was yes.

I thought for a second, to make sure that I was willing to do this. Willing to let myself fall love with James Potter...

She would have wanted it this way, a voice in my head piped up. And for once I was grateful for it. She would have murdered me if I didn't at least let myself fall for someone I loved once in my life. Actually, not just once, all times in my life, come to think of it...

James was still glancing at me, waiting for me to reply, I think.

"I'll hold you to that, James."

He smiled at me uncertainly. I think he may have wanted to kiss me again, but he hesitated and waited for me...as though I was going to say something more.

I started to open my mouth but then I spotted Professor McGonagall briskly walking down the corridor in front of us. "Walk me to the tower?"

He appeared disappointed and glanced at me quizzically. I just pointed a quick finger at McGonagall and he nodded, taking my hand in his to lead us past her.

"Potter, Evans," she greeted us stiffly as she went past us, muttering something about Sirius Black.

"Evening," we responded together, briskly walking past her as well.

It was silent until we reached the tower; both of us relishing the fact that we were in the other's company. Once we were at the portrait hole, James spoke up again.

"So I suppose since you asked to go to the tower, you're giving me the first night of Head duties and patrolling?"

I grinned at him and said softly, realization dawning that I hadn't yet answered his main question of the night, "You know I love you, right?"

He huffed at me and smirked but looked pleased at the same time. "Now you're only saying that because you want me to oblige to you and take the first night duties."

"Honestly, no… I'm not," I said seriously and took my hand from his to lace both of them around his neck. I felt a wave of nerves just then as I moved in to kiss him. But suddenly, it didn't matter. As he kissed me back and deepened the kiss so that it felt more passionate, nothing seemed to matter. It didn't matter that I had felt I couldn't trust anyone... All that mattered was that he was here, he loved me, and he was kissing me back.

As we parted, I saw the look on his face mirrored what I felt. Utter bliss and contentment just to be with someone you cared about so deeply.

...Suddenly that hole in my heart that had felt so big after my mother's death felt so much smaller. Though not erased or forgotten... Just altered... So that I could make room for and depend on another, someone I hoped wouldn't let me down.

But as I watched his retreating back as he went off as he promised (to complete our Head duties) I felt like he wouldn't. I felt like even though I was slightly broken, he had the power to help me fix myself.

And I loved that he made me feel that way.

The End (put here for the sake of clarification)