Chapter 4
Memory Waltz
Lily lightly floated into consciousness from the realm of sleep. As she became aware of the pillow under her cheek and the itch on her leg, she wondered what her mother was making for breakfast. She wondered what her sister would have to say about the party she went to the night before and what her father would say about the fact she had come home two hours after curfew. Lily definitely did not want to miss that.
Eyes still closed, she stretched, aware of an odd stiffness in her neck and back, as if she had been sleeping on a hard surface. She sat up, her head pounding slightly. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Soft morning light shone through the windows, the light of a sun that had risen not long before. She stared at the light, eyes slightly squinting, letting it lead her to the stone grey of the wall opposite the window. She followed the curve of the wall bemusedly to each of the four-posters that stood in the room, their occupants asleep. Gradually, painfully, memories from the past few months came forth from the fog that permeated her mind.
She groaned, leaning her aching head onto her knees. Her memory started returning faster, as if spurred on by the pain it was causing. Images swirled in a dizzying array of light and sound; half-glimpsed faces full of joy and sorrow, delight and fear; shouts, screaming, laughter, and tears all combined until she felt her head would explode.
Then they stopped. The crazy waltz of memories halted as the worst among them surfaced. Again she heard the shouts that had woken her, the silencing hand of her sister over her mouth. Again she saw the tall cloaked figure as she looked one last time over her shoulder, before following the urgent squeeze her sister gave her hand…
No. Stop. Lily didn't want to see anymore.
"No," she whispered opening her eyes.
She was running down the deserted street, hand-in-hand with Petunia…
"No," she said louder.
Screams echoed down the empty road, following her, haunting her. Then that burst of acid green light, lighting the night like a diseased sun before it was gone along with all the sound…
"No!" she screamed, tumbling out of bed and grasping for her wand. Not feeling it she held up her fists. Hands gripped her shoulders and she spun with a useless curse on her lips and tears in her eyes. She sent her fists to work, pounding on the chest of whoever held her, her mouth spitting curses. The curses died on her tongue as he gently lowered her arms, his glassless eyes on her face. She was confused, no longer sure of what was real and what wasn't, trying to see through the green of memory and the red of rage.
"Lily," he murmured, wiping the tear rolling slowly down her cheek.
"James?" No, it couldn't be. This was more man than boy. This person standing in front of her lacked the mischievous smile, the sly glint in the eye. Yet it could only be him.
"James," she repeated again, grasping onto the name in her mind like an anchor.
The tears she had been fighting with rage and numbing alcohol for an eternity or two fell in a silent waterfall on James' shoulder. He stroked her hair gently, humming an old slow waltz his mother used to sing to him when he was upset as a child until he felt her relax and her ragged breath slow to the rhythm of sleep. He gently laid her back on his bed, watching her face relaxed in slumber. He kissed her forehead before dropping onto the nest he had made between his bed and Sirius'.
While he stared at the ceiling he wished for something he never thought he would. He wished that they could all return to the time when Lily wouldn't speak to him much less cry on his shoulder and the biggest thing he had to worry about was how bad Slytherin would cheat in the next match.
James sighed and rolled over onto his side to look up at Lily once more. Wishing was useless, he knew. "You always wanted to be her knight in shining armor, James," he thought before falling asleep.