A/N: To Queen Of Duct Tape, yeah I'm not really following exactly how J.K. Rowling made it go. Really everything that makes this fourth year should just be changed to fifth and it could kind of match the book? But I guess I'm just going to keep it at fourth year.

Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter

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"Love, such a small word to describe something so big. It's a mystery really, one that would be a shame to solve. Those who know no love are the most depressed and most often to go wrong."

Lily looked drowsily at the book in her lap.

Love is a mystery, she thought. One of those things that needs to be here for more reason than one, causes as much pain as it does good. Why is it so irresistible? Why can no one stop themselves from matters of the heart? Whether it's passion, friendship, or even family, no one can seem to resist it. Love is the reason we cry when death occurs, the reason we smile at our friends. Those who believe they love nothing even love, since they love the solitude they confine themselves in.

And everything has an opposite.

Wasn't hate the reason Voldemort (with a shudder at his name) was killing? For hate? Or was it for spite, or power? Or maybe it WAS love, loving to be feared and acknowledged as someone different.

Lily looked at yet another newspaper article about another wizarding family found dead, the youngest member being only four years of age. Through all the Christmas cheer, someone found the ability to destroy it. One person bluntly pointed out that, all throughout the year, the mysterious killings kept edging closer and closer to Hogwarts creating a chain of the dead leading to their school. Of course, panic broke out instantly, and now everyone silently feared for what was going to happen next, who would be the next to die.

"Funny how one little suggestion can turn Christmas cheer into Christmas fear," someone said behind her.

"Potter," she said. The bitterness each time she said that name had noticeably disappeared. "Why is it that you always seem to find me when I'm all alone and thinking?"

"Because," James said, sitting next to her, "you're ALWAYS alone and thinking."

"That's a good point," Lily laughed, though not as heartily, James noticed.

"Something's wrong," he said. Lily shook it away. "Evans, Christmas is a time for sharing, so share your problems with me." She shook her head again.

"Nothing," she mumbled. "It's nothing."

James knew that her nothings were not nothings at all, but definite something's. "Lily Evans, I think you're lying."

"James," Lily nearly begged. "It's nothing, I swear to you that. The only thing depressing me is all this talk of death and the tension it causes."

James knew that she was lying, but decided to be quiet. She would tell him what was wrong when she felt the need to, and right now that need was just not there.

Lily's emerald eyes stared at the burning fire, dancing to its song. The honest truth was that she didn't know what was nagging at her. In the past week the entire course of her life had changed, and all because of a dream that the boy sitting next to her had. Of course, James had told her every vivid detail of the dream, and she had laughed at the idiocy of it all. Yet, if it wasn't for that dream, he wouldn't have come to the common room and conversed with her, he wouldn't have intruded upon her midnight snack, she wouldn't have cared about the dream of the werewolf, she wouldn't have followed him to the Whomping Willow, she wouldn't have discovered Remus's secret, she wouldn't have brewed the potion, she wouldn't have met up with Malfoy and Snape, he wouldn't have saved her, they wouldn't have been in the hospital wing together, they wouldn't have kissed, they wouldn't have uncovered their past, they wouldn't have celebrated Christmas together.

Lily noticed how everything went from he wouldn't have or she wouldn't have to they wouldn't have. The past week turned Lily and James from a she and he to a they.

Well wasn't that what love was? The uniting of two individuals into one?

As comforting as it was to know and feel love, something was still at unease within Lily.

"Lily?" James asked, breaking her dream barrier. They had spent nearly ten minutes in silence. "Are you in love with me?"

"Haven't I told you I love you already?" Lily smiled.

"Yes, but I mean are you IN love with me? There's a difference."

Lily stared at the fire again, her eyes dancing once more. She didn't respond.

"Lily, answer my question please," James asked, a cold grip upon his chest. The amount of time it was taking her to answer could not signify anything he hoped to hear.

"James," she finally responded, still staring at the fire, "I love you, present day James Potter, but I'm IN love with you, 11-year-old James Potter."

There was a pause where his entire world seemed to freeze, his life seemed to fade, and his heart could be heard shattering.

"It's really important to me," she continued, "that you and I remain friends and only friends. We'll see other people experiment with different love interests, all the while remaining friends. That way we can know for certain if we were meant to be, or if we can find someone better."

James pulled himself together. "Is it really that important to you?" he asked. When Lily nodded, still avoiding his eyes, he knew it was time for him to give up on persuading her that they didn't need time. He stood up and walked to the stairs, pausing to say one last thing. "I found my meaning of life, by the way."

She finally looked him in the eyes, his soft brown gaze being pierced by her fiery emerald one. "What would that be?" she asked.

"My meaning of life is you, Lily Evans. I don't care how long it takes, how many other people we date. In the end it'll just be me and you, and I'm willing to be patient, I'm willing to wait for you."

Lily smiled slightly and said, "I'll wait for you too, James, but I won't wait forever."

Without another word, they turned their backs on each other, and neither knew that the other had silent tears running down their faces.

Tears so pure that diamonds fade.