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A/N: yeah, I know. Btw, thanks to all of my lovely reviewers! I got SO many reviews on the last chappie! I LOVE you guys! And to GMGs-4eva, I have a yahoo email account. My email is If you can, contact me on my AOL im at olosgniylf. It was great hearing from you all! Keep the reviews coming, and I'll keep with the chappies!

JANUARY 28, 06 SIXTH YEAR

The seven teenagers were dumped unceremoniously on the ground. James quickly regained his feet, but not as quickly as Lily. She was already standing, wand at the ready, a hex forming on the back of her tongue.

"Just who the hell do you think you are!" Her cheeks were angrily flushed, her eyes sparking dangerously. James would have thought her terribly striking if he wasn't preoccupied with the wand.

"Lily," he said softly, as if speaking to a frightened animal. "It isn't what you think. You aren't who you think. Voldemort isn't your father. Green is your favorite color. Your middle name is Ivy. You love chocolate. You're in sixth year. You've had more boyfriends than I care to count. Those voices you hear, it's because you can read minds. Please, you have to believe me."

"H-how did you know about the voices?" The wand wavered a bit.

"I taught you to control them, Lily. You had a handle on it. Then you Saw that Voldemort was planning on capturing you. Dumbledore sent you away. You lived in France for a year. Then you came back as Scar, a Gryffindor. We—" It was apparently too much for Lily's already overworked mind. The hex was half-way out of Lily's mouth before Dumbledore himself stunned her. He looked old and drawn.

"She's marked," Sirius said quietly.

"I know," Dumbledore said. Naturally, his students weren't surprised.

James carefully gathered the redhead in his arms, holding her close as he carried her the short distance to Hogwarts. Once there, he was forced to leave her in Madame Pomfrey Sr.'s care. Jay, Trista, and Shawn wordlessly slipped back to their Common Room. Dumbledore had to know that they were Death Eaters, but he chose to ignore it.

"Mr. Potter," he said. "My office please. Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, you may return to your Common Room." James followed the Headmaster up to his office. "Lemon drop?" James miserably shook his head. Dumbledore watched him for a moment. "You know, James, we will get her back. It may be a quick, easy ordeal, and it my take months. It all depends on how badly Lily wants to remember. She has to fight it."

James turned angry hazel eyes to the old man. "Why her, Headmaster? Why Lily? She'll never be the same. She's marked with Voldemort's magic, his brand burns in her skin, his magic floods her pure blood. Why her?"

"I can not tell you that, James. Perhaps Lily knows, and she will inform us when she remembers that she wants us to know. Meantime, catch up on your schoolwork." James raised his eyebrows, causing the Headmaster to chuckle. "Hovering over her won't help her heal." James's lips twitched in a mockery of a smile.

"Thank you Headmaster."

.xXx.

For four weeks, James hardly slept. He stopped by the hospital wing every day, on false errands. Lily could not know that it was her he went to see. For four weeks, the redhead sat, arms folded, staring at nothing. Perhaps she refused to accept her new environment, perhaps she was piecing together all that was missing.

It was a Quidditch accident. The first thing James saw when he woke up was her face. It wasn't the glowing, peaceful face he wanted—needed—to see, but a glowering, stubborn look.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" she spat. James's response was to groan and put his hands over his face.

"Where's Madam Pomfrey?"

"She's gone." Lily smirked.

"Funny, Evans."

Lily sighed. "I wasn't trying to be funny, Potter."

"I know."

"Stop talking to me, Potter." He was silent. "Seriously, I hate you. Stop talking to me. It's not like you like me."

"Here's where I point out that hate is not the opposite of love. Indifference is. As long as you hate me, I know you still care."

"Why are you here?"

He flashed her a brilliant grin. "Well, I was rather caught up in the madness of the game, and wasn't paying much attention to other players. I saw the Quaffle… and not the person carrying it."

"Collision?"

"Carried me straight through one of those hoops. Unfortunately my broom caught an edge, and, well…"

"Ow."

"Tell that to my broken leg." James didn't point out that Lily was on friendly terms with him.

"I wish my father would let me play Quidditch. It looks like so much fun." James's breath caught in his throat, causing him to half-choke. Voldemort told Lily she had never played Quidditch? The mere thought was insanity!

"I could teach you, you know," he blurted. "You look like you'd be a great keeper."

Lily seemed to snap back to reality, looking at James with disgust. "I hate you, Potter," she repeated. "Stop talking to me." James fought the intense urge to bang his head against something very solid.

For a week, James faked pain, keeping himself in the hospital. Lily, despite herself, couldn't refuse the companionship. She became almost comfortable with James. One night he even brought up her Dark Mark.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Evans," he said. "You could live a normal life."

"It's as permanent as death, Potter," she reminded him.

"Whoever said death was permanent?"

Lily sighed. "Look at it this way. You're you."

"Well I was the last time I checked."

"You're an arrogant, spoiled, attention-seeking prat." James, about to deny such charges, closed his mouth, seeing that he was getting somewhere with the redhead. "Would you be able to give all that up on a whim? Become someone like Severus, for example?"

"No!"

"Exactly," she said flatly. "Despite what you think of me, I am, at the end of it all, Slytherin Princess. You say I'm a Gryffindor. You say I like you. You say Voldemort isn't really my father. But that is all I have ever known. Do you expect me to change my personality—my identity—because some arrogant Gryffindor tells me to?"

"You don't understand! That isn't who you are!"

"Even if it wasn't, it's what I know!" she yelled.

"But it wasn't always what you knew!"

"But it's all I know now!"

"But it's not all I know!"

"But it's my life!"

"But I'm a part of that life!"

"No! You're not, Potter! You've always just been an annoyance! I hate you, and I've always hated you! Now leave me alone! Seriously, I HATE you!"

James quietly schooled his features. "If that's what the Princess commands." He made the word command sound like a curse. He climbed out of bed and stood shakily—his leg was still sore—and bowed in a mocking way.

Back in the Marauders' dorm, James found Sirius and Remus. They both looked up as their friend entered. They clearly saw defeat and pain written on the sixth year's face. Sirius didn't say it. It would have killed James. But the hazel eyed boy knew what his friend was thinking. It's all your fault. You pushed her away. You made her vulnerable to Him. You wrecked her life.

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," James whispered.

But Sirius, for all his loyalty, could not bring himself to comfort his friend as Remus did. It may not be entirely James's fault, but at the moment? It sure seemed like it.

A/N: Yeah, I know. It was short, but come on, I posted like two days ago! In other words? It's spring break, and I have nothing to do. So I'm sneaking on to FF to post chapters when my mum's not around. Yeah. Don't tell. Or I won't be able to post at ALL. And you wouldn't want that, would you?