You guys are truly spoiling me with all these reviews. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Honestly, they make me so very happy ^.^ Shout-out to my TWO Belgians reading! (Damn, that's like half our population, right here on this fic ;p )

Like I said, stuff gets real bad, real fast in this chapter, so... let's get to it! Warning: Torture, violence, Peak-Bad-James. Yikes-a-doodles.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta)

Song: Pyrokinesis by 7Chariot

The Ritual

Liking James Potter was hard — mostly because Lily felt like she never had any idea what she was doing. When he'd been pursuing her heavily, it had been easy. She'd kind of just gone with the flow and followed his lead, accepted his advances, let him coax two orgasms out of her — whatever — but now? He was pulling back; Lily could feel it. She really, truly shouldn't have been surprised by this, but somehow, she still was.

At first, she'd worried that she had only been some sort of conquest to him, some prize to be conquered by being the first guy to make her come. He literally asked to keep a trophy, Lils, what did you expect? But then she realized it wasn't exactly normal to pursue a girl just to get her off. She knew Potter was peculiar, but that would hardly make any sense, especially after she'd seen exactly how much he enjoyed getting off himself as well. (And how bloody good he looked doing it, too — if that was at all pertinent information in this whole discussion.)

Then she remembered what Remus had once said: Potter and his best friend both liked to be chased. It made sense that after giving Lily a taste of what being with him could be like, he'd backed off and given her a chance to be the one to come to him. He'd been pretty aggressive in how hard he'd courted her, so now she supposed it was her turn to show that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. He was into that type of reciprocal shit, if how he'd wanted Lily to be the first to kiss him was any indication. It was noble, but a really big problem.

Because, again: Lily had no idea what she was doing.

She'd never gone after a guy before. Sure, she'd dropped hints and flirted heavily if she wanted someone, but then they'd usually do the rest. She didn't think she was lazy per se, but just a pretty girl who enjoyed the benefits of being attractive. (She knew that was not something she should admit aloud, even if it was true.)

She also knew that Potter was way out of her sexual league. She'd seen the kinky shit he was into, and even if it had surprised her that she had reacted a certain type of (positive) way to it, she had no clue how to initiate anything like that. She'd make herself look like an absolute fool. It wasn't just like she could show up to his dorm room in nothing but lingerie and seduce him into a shag. The logistics of that were a complete nightmare, from walking through his common room undetected, to getting rid of all of his roommates, to— Lily was going to get hives just contemplating it.

Another thing complicating her mission? She couldn't stop dreaming about Potter. Every night, without fail, he'd make an appearance, in various forms of undress, always saying the most ridiculous things to her. One time while they were in a dense forest and he was holding her close (they'd been riding a unicorn?) he'd hushed in her ear: 'I guess I don't see the angle, Evans. Like, are you trying to get ruined? Do you want a taste of the bad before you settle for a life of boring and predictable…?' She'd been saved from having to answer that rude query when the unicorn had transformed into a Hippogriff that had bucked him off before taking flight. In another dream, they'd been having sex in the Great Lake and he'd suddenly turned very solemn, his hazel eyes piercing right into her brain, and asked, 'Why me? Why now?' She guessed she was feeling a little guilty about tricking him, because she also dreamt about him discovering how she'd been using him for the Order, and throwing her to Voldemort as punishment. She'd awoken from that dream sweaty and panting. (Then again, she awoke from most of her dreams with Potter that way.)

She needed to do something. She just didn't know what.

"Do you want to go watch practice tomorrow night? I heard Wells is really whipping up the team into good shape this year. Might be fun, or at the very least, we can see if we should even get our hopes up for the season?" Remus suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, let's do it," Lily answered absentmindedly, still watching Olivia Green at the Ravenclaw table. It had become a bad habit of hers over the past few mealtimes. The girl just seemed so normal — like you'd never expect that she was a sexual deviant who blew guys while others watched, getting off. Lily supposed she should probably have told Remus by now that the guy he was interested in was a voyeuristic pervert, but that would require explaining to him that his best friend was one too. After all, she had masturbated while watching Olivia suck off Potter as well. She never thought she'd live to see the day that she had something in common with Black, and it would be that.

Remus sighed. "Okay. What's up?"

Lily jumped, embarrassed, turning back to him. "Sorry, sorry, just a little distracted, is all."

"Yeah. Noticed," Remus said dryly. "Still don't know what to do about Potter?"

"Nope." It was a half-truth.

"I think you're overthinking it. He clearly likes you," Lily grimaced, unsure, "so just ask him out. I really doubt he'll say no."

That sounded terrifying, and Lily hated it. "Fine."

It took Lily several classes, but she finally scrounged up her Gryffindor courage by Defense Against the Dark Arts class to ask Potter to pair with her for dueling practice. (Every time Connelly had a little too much to drink the night before and forgot to plan a lesson, they'd have a dueling class with everyone breaking into pairs. It really wasn't the worst use of class time considering they probably learnt the most by dueling each other anyway. It didn't hurt that there were so many Death Eaters in the class which made learning defense quite crucial.)

"You sure, Evans?" he asked with a smirk. "I won't go easy on you."

"I expect nothing less," she flirted back, securing her hair into a ponytail. She knew he was an excellent dueler, but she wasn't too shabby herself.

They found a free spot away from their peers in the corner of the classroom and got into formation, bowing with their gazes locked the entire time. When the spells started flying, it became evident quite quickly that Potter had only gotten better, and Lily was immediately playing catchup, doing nothing but blocking like her dignity depended on it.

"Something on your mind, Evans? You seemed eager to get me one-on-one," he taunted, sending a yellow hex whizzing just right of her ear.

She wouldn't let him get in her head; she wouldn't let him hit her with whatever he was throwing. "Nope, nothing at all, just ready to kick you arse." She finally sent a leg-locking curse his way, but he deflected it over to the Ravenclaw standing to his left, who fell with a comical yelp.

"Huh." He sounded as calm as if he were having an afternoon stroll, while Lily could start to feel sweat gathering at her elbows. "I coulda sworn you wanted to ask me something."

Lily growled as a stinging spell hit her ankle and she had to temporarily hop onto the other foot to continue. She refocused, dodging a blue spell and sending a purple one of her own. She groaned as Potter's wand somehow just absorbed it. Cheater. She couldn't help it that she was also getting more than a little distracted just by the sight of his wand lately. That wand had basically become her new best friend over the last few days… It felt a little wrong to be trying to defeat it when it had been nothing but good to her. So, so very good.

"Come on, Evans. You can do better than that."

Ugh, he is so goddamn annoying! Lily internally screamed, literally having to jump and roll out of the way of another one of his curses.

She watched as he started walking closer, herding her into the corner of the room. "Your move."

He was most certainly taunting her about asking him out. He has to be. And he has to be able to read lips, there's no other way! She squealed as another spell hit her stomach, this one making her feel oddly giddy, followed by another one to her arm that felt like a paper cut. "Fuck!" she whispered. She brandished her wand wildly, but she was coming to the unfortunate conclusion that she was outmatched. Lily wondered why she'd ever been confident enough to take on someone who looked like they did this for a living.

"You're telegraphing all your moves, Evans. Try subtlety," he instructed as he snuck in yet another charm, that Lily vaguely felt in her scalp.

What the fuck was that? Lily tried throwing another spell at him, only to dejectedly watch it be deflected yet again to that same poor Ravenclaw, Benjy, who had just picked himself up off the floor. She winced; it had been her most vicious hex yet.

"Evans…" Potter hissed, drawing her attention back to him impatiently.

"GooutwithmePotter," she panted, finally giving up and leaning against the wall to catch her breath in defeat.

His lips curved into a smile as he stopped a meter out from her. "What was that?"

"I said," Lily huffed, pushing through the stitch in her side, but the physical pain almost made her emotional turmoil easier to bear, "go out with me, Potter. Tonight." She tilted her head. "Please."

He found her adorable, she could tell. "I thought you'd never ask. But yes, I'd love to." He pointed his wand to her arm, and sealed up her cut. "Where you gonna take me?"

Ah fuck, she hadn't really planned that far ahead. "Uh, Hogsmeade?" she panicked.

Potter chuckled. "I'll make it a short practice tonight and pick you up by the Fat Lady at 9. Wear something cute." His gaze dropped over her libidinously before he strolled off to find a new partner.

Shit. So she had a date. With James Potter. Okay, okay, she could work with this. She could do this.

Lily spent her next free period bringing her clothing options to Remus' room so they could choose an outfit and decide just where she should bring Potter. They decided on The Three Broomsticks because they both were far from dating experts and it just seemed like a nice, safe bet, especially if something went wrong. (Lily tried not thinking about the fact that they had rooms for rent upstairs if things went right.)

Lily thought that hours had never moved as slowly as they were now, sitting in the common room with Remus, waiting for Potter to pick her up. They had settled on a flattering, simple, green dress, paired with stockings and brown boots, trying to go for a look that was pretty, but not trying too hard. Only Marlene noticed that she was getting dolled up in their bathroom, and shot her an encouraging wink. Lily wondered if she'd be so nice to her if she knew just who she was prepping to go on a date with. Probably not, and really, she wouldn't blame her for that judgment.

"Okay, I'll go wait in the hall then," Lily said, looking at her watch. She was tired of playing with her hair, wondering just how it could have possibly gotten so much longer seemingly overnight. "Wish me luck."

"You don't need it," Remus replied.

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Potter already outside the portrait, freshly showered and rocking a maroon jumper. She eyed it curiously. "Didn't know you owned Gryffindor-colored clothes."

"Well, when the hottest Gryffindor asks you out, you gotta step your game up." Smooth, Potter. Real smooth. "I see you're in my colors as well."

This time, her Slytherin theme might have been more of a conscious choice than at the dance. "Or, am I just trying to make my eyes pop?"

"Why not both?" he teased. She fucking loved it when he teased. She kind of was starting to love it when he did anything: when he slouched in his chair in class, rocking it onto the two back legs, when he tickled his chin with his quill as he read from his textbook in the library, when he studied her every move as they walked by each other in the halls, never trying to hide his blatant obsession with her. In a school where interests were fickle and heated promises usually rang false by the time they'd stop echoing, she knew his devotion was a rarity. To have a boy, well, a man, like him show interest in her, and express that interest over days and weeks (Has it actually been years?), gave her comfort she wasn't even aware she'd been craving. She wanted to run her hands through his messy hair and watch as he undressed in slow motion.

In short, Lily barely even knew who she was anymore. He grinned charmingly as he offered her his hand. "Want me to show you the best way to sneak out of here?"

She took it and interlocked their fingers. "Yes, please."

Potter showed her a passageway under a humped-witch statue and held onto her the whole way through so she didn't bump her head on any poorly lit jagged rocks like she had in the first few unaided seconds. With the way her heart was pounding and her eyelashes batted of their own accord every time he snuck a glance back at her, this felt more like a real date than possibly any other one she'd ever been on before. Her mind had seemingly forgotten to pass on the message to her body that none of this was supposed to be real — because to it, it fucking was. Her body didn't care about their sordid past, or his murky ideals, it could only focus on the here and now of the flow of her hormones and the way her breath caught in her throat when he started tenderly swiping his thumb back and forth over her knuckles when she'd laughed at some joke he'd thrown over his shoulder, as though encouraging the sound. She couldn't fake these sort of physical reactions.

Potter took off her coat when they entered The Three Broomsticks, hanging it up on a rack, as they were warmly greeted by Madam Rosmerta who asked for their orders. "One Firewhiskey and a…?" Lily looked at Potter expectantly.

"Make it two."

"Coming right up, sit wherever you'd like," the blonde said with a smile before disappearing behind the bar.

Potter steered Lily to a secluded booth near the back of the room. "So you're a real Firewhiskey girl, huh?"

"What did you expect?"

"Nothing less." She was secretly happy when he sat on the opposite side of the table as her, so she'd be allowed to ogle the crap out of him all night. "I have to admit," he began, pushing up his sleeves, "I was rather surprised that you asked me out tonight."

Me too. "Were you?"

"Yeah." His gaze kept flicking to her lips, and Merlin, she fucking liked that too. "I didn't think I was your type."

She let out a little laugh, gratefully accepting their drinks when they came before looking back at him, taking a sip for some liquid courage. "Honestly? You're not." He picked up his glass and brought it to his lips — those thick, perfect, soft lips — his stare never faltering, not letting her leave her answer at that. He had to stop eye-fucking her like this — he had to — she really didn't want to be kicked out of this bar so soon for public indecency when she'd inevitably start reacting to him. She carried on, more quietly, "You've surprised me this year."

"I have?"

"Yeah." She sucked on her bottom lip for a second. "You… I don't know. You care about people more than I thought you did. Or… about me?"

He put down his glass and leaned forward on his elbows and she saw all the little freckles that dusted his nose and spilled down onto his high cheekbones. His facial structure was impeccable. It was almost unfair that she could now just sit here and observe him so unabashedly. "It's about time you noticed I care for you."

Oh fuck. Had her pulse ever thundered so loudly in her ears? "Guess I didn't really give you that many chances to show me sooner, huh?" she breathed.

Hide that dimple. Hide that motherfucking dimple, please. "No, you really didn't." He sat back in his seat, seemingly having come to the same realization that they were sizzling a little too hot and brightly for the first few minutes of a date and needed to take a breather if they were going to last. "So, tell me about your hopes and dreams, Evans. What do you have planned after school?"

They talked for hours of her aspirations to become a healer (a profession that thoroughly impressed him), living in London with a cat, and his secret desire to be a stay-at-home dad, something that she'd never expected yet blossomed a warm, glowing feeling in her stomach that she'd never experienced before. He opened up and told her how he thought the dream came from having lost his own father so young, and how he really wanted to fill that void for someone else. Lily had no idea they were both fatherless. It made her reach across the table and take his hand in hers, offering the same soothing swipe of her thumb over the back of his knuckles that had made her so happyjust prior. She felt like he had never-ending layers for her to peel back and she was only now scratching the surface. Was this the reason his mother played such an influential — and detrimental — role in his life? Without anyone else at home, had it been all the more easy to poison the mind of her only son? Lily briefly wondered if perhaps Potter would have grown up differently had he been raised by someone who wasn't so full of hate.

James looked almost uncomfortable by his own admission, staring away from her towards the bar. "Sorry, I didn't mean to drop all of that on you—"

"No, please. Don't apologize," Lily replied hastily, giving his hand a squeeze. "I want to know." Honestly, she wanted to know a whole lot more than that — like when did his father die? How did he die? — but she knew it wasn't her place to ask.

He shot her a small smile. "He would have loved you." Off of Lily's skeptical snort, he pushed on more adamantly. "No, really. He—" James cut himself off, pondering his words. "Honestly, all he really cared about was his potions and making sure his family was happy."

Lily grinned. "So he would have liked that I'm a Potions nerd?" she teased, lowering her chin.

Potter let out a little huff, looking her dead in the eye. "Yeah. And he would have liked that you make me happy."

He left her relatively speechless for a long beat after that.

She knew she should have, but she just didn't want to bring up the ugly parts of him (like him being a Death Eater); she only wanted to look at this handsome man across from her, and imagine a silly little life they could build together where they'd have it all. As if it would be entirely possible for her to go to work every morning and come home to find her sexy baby daddy taking care of their infant child. (What a world, what a dream.) For once, she was actually able to push all her intrusive, negative thoughts aside and just enjoy herself — enjoy him.

He even did the impossible and started humanizing Sirius Black for her, telling her stories of all their mad adventures on flying motorcycles, evading Aurors in their Animagi forms (which he insisted he would divulge to her on their second date, cheeky bastard), and causing general mayhem. He made them sound like boys she wanted to be friends with. He made them sound like people she would like to create a new adventure with one of these days.

All too soon, Potter looked at his watch and announced that it was time for him to bring her back to the castle. Lily startled, seeing it was nearing midnight. "What, will you turn into a pumpkin?" The way he scrunched his nose adorably confused made Lily giggle. She knew better than to explain Muggle fairytales to him; she didn't want to ruin the mood. "Never mind, let's go." She hoped her disappointment that the night was ending wasn't too obvious and made a point not to look at the staircase that led to the second floor. It was almost scary how badly she wanted to take him up there and book them into a private room.

He took her back to the castle via the same passageway and dropped her off with a sweet kiss that made even the Fat Lady swoon, promising he'd see her at breakfast. "I had fun tonight, Lils. We should do this again soon."

Was he having as hard of a time letting go of her hands as she was? Lily perched on her toes, stealing another kiss from his lips, because she wanted to — and she could. "I did too, James."

His face shifted, instantly quelling some of Lily's vulnerability over having used his first name when she saw just how much he seemed to like this new development. No matter how many assurances he gave her, or how many times he kissed her, Lily was fairly certain that the hint of bad boy that always lay just below the surface of everything he did would always keep her on her toes. That twinge of danger in his eyes would never grow dull or stop running a current through her skin. He brought his left hand up to lightly trace her cheek. "I don't know which I prefer: when you call me by my name or baby."

Lily felt her skin blush under his touch. "Different names for different situations, Potter," she responded cheekily.

He smirked. "Right, right. So James for sweetness, baby for sexy, got it."

She tittered. "Something like that."

"Well," he brought his lips right back down to hers, lingering torturously, "goodnight, Lily."

They had to stop kissing now, because she was about to drag him inside. "Goodnight, baby."

He chuckled as he pulled back, looking completely conflicted about tearing himself away. Lily entered her common room in a love-drunk stupor, almost groaning when she heard the portrait shut behind her.

"Earth to Lil," Remus called from the armchair she'd nearly walked right by, a book in his lap.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there."

"Yeah. Noticed that," he said grinning.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," she replied, dropping into her spot, head still in the clouds where James had left her.

"Sure I didn't." He raised an expectant eyebrow. "So?"

Lily was torn between telling him every last detail, and taking it all with her to her grave. "Remy — I'm so fucking screwed." She raked her long hair back with both her hands. "I like him so much."

Remus smiled at her, both knowing and sad, as he patted her knee. "I know, Lil. I know."

He went to bed shortly afterwards, and Lily watched him leave up the boys' staircase, her mind having been made up a while ago about what she still had to do. There was no way she could wait until morning to masturbate, not after the way Potter had just stared longingly at her for hours, lighting her insides on fire for him, and she didn't want Remus to stay up worrying about her. Now that the coast was clear, she put her coat back on, and headed out for the Great Lake.

Lily was nearly at her tree and her anticipation over getting to do her little euphoric ritual in the dead of the night was putting an extra pep in her step. (She had so much new fodder for her fantasies after all. It wasn't every day that the hottest bloke in school wore a maroon jumper just for her and shot easy, slightly naughty smiles her way for hours.) It was way past midnight, long after the last of the patrols had ended, and Lily was breaking all the rules, including her own. It felt sort of wonderful. She smirked, guessing Potter was rubbing off on her a little bit.

She was just thinking, There are worse things, when she saw it: sizzling lights coming from the edge of the forest. What on earth…? She knew she should probably head back, the Forbidden Forest was dangerous, but she was a Gryffindor — doing foolhardy deeds was in her nature, wasn't it? Besides, she was pretty sure the flashes were coming from the very same magical spot Potter had shown her on their patrol together.

Curious, Lily carefully stalked towards it, but the noises that followed her approach made her whole body tense up and freeze. The distinctive sounds of curses being cast were followed by muffled bloodcurdling screams, as though whoever was making them was gagged, but in so much pain that it hardly mattered. She had to help them; she had to try.

Lily removed her wand from her pocket, holding it in front of her as she drew nearer, hiding behind the thick brush and peeking around a tree. Lily's free hand instinctually came up to cover the gasp that had escaped her mouth — because there, in the middle of the clearing (and right where Potter had made her come), lay a screaming 6th year Muggle-born boy, surrounded by a circle of Death Eaters.

No, no, please don't be here, please don't—

"Pretty good, but remember, you really have to mean it for it to work well. The Dark Lord won't let you out on the field unless you've perfected it." Lily sank to her knees, her entire body trembling as she watched Potter correct a kid's wand arm and instructed him to try Crucio again. Malcolm, the Muggle-born boy, released fresh peals of agony into the night. Her mind couldn't stop picturing how Potter had taught her nonverbal magic in nearly the same way that he was teaching this baby Death Eater how to torture. His voice was less sultry here, but just as calm, like this Unforgivable Curse held the same stakes and was just as routine a form of magic as nonverbal was.

Lily couldn't breathe. She could barely even think. He never stopped, he never stopped, it's been him this whole time, it's been him. She felt tears streaming down her face, unable to look away, praying to everything in her life that this was just another one of her vivid dreams and that she'd wake up any second now. He couldn't have cut their date short because he had to run a Death Eater practice session — he couldn't have. Not James. Not the boy I've come to know this year. She held on to the memory of how sensually he'd kissed her not even an hour ago, pouring his heart into her through her lips, like it was the only thing that stood in the way of her and a complete mental breakdown.

Sirius looked bored near the back of the circle, lighting little blue flames out of his wand and throwing them up into the sky. "Careful Pads," Potter warned. "I don't want to have to extinguish another one of your accidental brush fires again."

Sirius shot him a sinful smile, spinning his wand around his fingers. "Aye aye, Captain."

"Make yourself useful and go help Nott over there, he's incompetent."

Nott definitely heard him, and didn't look too pleased about that assessment, but accepted Sirius' help all the same.

Bellatrix, the only woman there, sighed loudly, clearly trying to project her displeasure. "Haven't we done enough Crucio for one night, Potter?"

Potter scoffed. "Never thought you'd get bored of it, Bella."

She grinned at him wickedly. "I had a few other tricks in mind."

"No," Potter replied immediately, "if this is another one of Snape's new spells, I don't want to hear it. They're always so messy."

"Oh, come on!" Bellatrix whined. "Just one, teensy little spell?"

"No, Bella. Do you know how long it took me to stitch that girl back up last time?" Lily stifled another whimper. No wonder he'd been so impressed with her healing aspirations — he knew just how hard of a profession it was, and just how many of his skills he had to employ to do it right. "I had to use half my supply of salve and I still can't wear those shoes. The blood was everywhere."

He was talking about Alison. He had told Lily to her face that he hadn't attacked her… and he'd lied. Of course he lied. Look at who he is!

Lily had seen enough. She wasn't so arrogant to think she could take on fifteen Death Eaters at once, even if some of them looked like children — she had to go get help. As quietly as she could, she pushed up to her feet, trying to sneak out of there so she could run back to the castle.

The only problem was, she'd never been that good at sneaking. A branch snapped under her foot just as Malcolm stopped screaming and Lily froze, eyes wide, remaining still as a statue and hoping no one could see her. A spell slicing through her lower back a second later told her that had not been the case. She crumpled to the ground, screaming and screaming, feeling hot blood gushing out from her fresh wound, and heard a mess of yells and heated arguments behind her as all the Death Eaters closed in on her location.

Potter's voice stood out. "You fucking fool! Crucio!" For one heart-stopping moment, Lily waited for the pain to double all over her body, but then she heard another woman scream, and realized he'd cursed Bellatrix and not her, probably for being the one to throw the curse at her back. Lily guessed her hair was rather recognizable, even from behind. "Everybody stand back, she's mine." He started mumbling spells and Lily felt the giant gash on her spine seal itself back up, her hands clutching at the dirt beneath her as the pain still seared but become more manageable.

As she lay there, breathing in the woodsy smell of earth, her head spinning and her stomach threatening to empty itself right here and now, she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

"I can't be outed like this! People can't know—"

"Don't piss yourself, Pettigrew. I'll handle it. No one else will find out."

Pettigrew? As in Peter Pettigrew, the mousy 7th year Gryffindor that always gives Remy the creeps but mostly sticks to himself? Lily hadn't noticed his face just now, but then again, she'd been pretty honed in on Potter's. But that was definitely Pettigrew's nervous rasp. Was he a Death Eater too? A fellow Gryffindor?!

A gentle hand on her shoulder finally triggered her gag reflex. "Lily?"

"Don't you fucking touch me!" she spat out, struggling to push herself onto her hands and knees so she could continue to heave. Something was going to come out any second now, it had to.

"Baby, it's me," Potter whispered, just for her.

That finally did it; the Firewhiskey she'd had with him, on their date, finally burned its way out of her throat, making her splutter and cough. He was calling her 'baby'? What the fuck was wrong with him?! She refused to turn around, she couldn't see him, she couldn't, even if she had to crawl through her own sick to get away from him.

"Everyone, go," Potter commanded, his voice booming behind her to the Death Eaters. None of them dared to talk back to him. "Padfoot, you take care of the boy. Remember, don't leave a single trace. And let's implant a happy memory this time so there isn't another near slip-up. Patronus me if you need help." Another slip-up, another slip-up. The words echoed in the empty cavity of Lily's chest where her heart had once been. "I'll take care of her."

She nearly puked again from how close those words were to his past heated pleas: 'Let me take care of you.' The connotations were so vastly different, it made her physically nauseated.

"You got it, Prongs."

They must have all known a secret passageway to and from this place, because not a single person passed by Lily on their way back to the castle. She kept crawling on, her tears distorting her vision, but she hardly cared. She had to get away from him; she had to go back.

"Lils, let me take you home," Potter said softly when they were alone.

"Get the fuck away from me, you— you—" Lily stumbled, unable to come up with anything bad enough to describe the way she felt, "—you fucking—" she broke down, arms giving out, skin on her back too new and stretched out to do anything other than lie facedown in the dirt.

"Lily, you need to stop moving and let it heal for a second."

Potter was walking around her, trying to get in her line of vision, so she screwed her eyes shut, silent tears still slipping out. "Leave."

He was crouching in front of her, she could feel it. "No. I'm not going to leave you here." She felt him banishing her ruined coat and healing her back once more. "It's a shame, I loved this dress on you."

Lily felt her hands clench into fists in the soil once more, pushing it deeper under her nails. The less reminders she had that she'd just gone on a bloody date with this sociopath — one that she'd actually idiotically enjoyed — the better. "Fuck. Off."

"Language, Lily." He reached out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, but she jerked back.

"Don't touch me," she snarled. "Don't you dare—"

"Evans, please. Just relax, don't make me put you in a body-bind—"

"Don't act like you care!" She yelled, eyes finally flying wide open to glower at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. "You tricked me! You fucking tricked me—!"

"No, I didn't, love, please calm down."

"You said you didn't attack Alison! You lied to my fucking face—!"

"No," he reasoned as though they were debating the weather. "I said I wasn't the one who nabbed her or wiped her memories. It was Avery's turn for that."

"You're a monster!" Lily screamed, her vocal cords ripping apart as snot dripped from her nose. "And what? You tortured Ernie and then looked me in the eye and asked for my help with him? Knowing what you'd just done to him?! You're a sadist, a cancer, a fucking—!"

"Lils, I'm sorry." She understood his apology a second later when she felt a spell wash over her, instantly taking away some of the throbbing pain in her chest. She wasn't sure what was happening, but everything felt duller now… lighter. Like the dagger being pushed through her flesh had been transformed into a rubber band, snapping at her skin, but never penetrating. Annoying, but she wouldn't die from it. "It's a calming spell. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Her mind prickled as she swallowed some of the leftover bile down her aching throat. "You tricked me," she repeated softly, voice cracking, the steady flow of tears falling from her eyes slowing to a trickle.

Potter reached over for the cheek she didn't currently have pressed into the dirt and rubbed away the wetness with his thumb. "No, love. I didn't. I showed you one side of me, but hid the rest. We all have sides. You do, I've seen a couple of them already." He made it sound loving. He made it sound normal.

"Most of us don't have a homicidal side, Potter," she mumbled. She had a hunch that feeling drugged and sluggish was a side-effect of this spell. "We are not the fucking same…" She grimaced as she felt Potter fully heal her back once more, and was overcome with the need to fuck it up again. If he wanted her scar to mend so badly, she was going to keep fighting him on it, because fuck him. She pushed herself up slowly.

Potter growled, catching her arm in his grip. "Come on, Lils. Don't make me Imperio you."

She couldn't believe that she'd once heard warmth in that voice, or comfort in the way he said her name. He was threatening her with a frigging Unforgivable Curse, like now that the bandaid had been ripped off and she'd seen who he truly was, he no longer had to worry about keeping his dark side from her. She slowly looked up at his face defiantly. "Do it," she taunted, knowing that if he did, it would be that much easier to get over him. It would be that much easier for a clean break, because using the Imperius on her would be something that he could never come back from. Thinking about it more, she actually wanted him to. Lily reached for his wand and dragged it to her forehead, her watery emerald eyes locking with the beautiful hazel ones that she'd looked so lovingly into only hours before. "Do it," she repeated. Because even now, half crouched in a puddle of her own filth, she craved his touch. She wanted him to explain how everything she'd just seen had been some big misunderstanding, because he'd actually been trying to stop them from torturing that kid, hadn't she seen that? She wanted him to lie to her so she could take him back. So they could pretend that this had never happened.

She hated herself.

Potter watched her for what felt like minutes, his nostrils flaring, before he pocketed his wand and pulled Lily to her feet. "I'm taking you home, and that's final."

Lily had no more fight left in her. Being careful to avoid the scar that finally felt like it had healed properly, James picked Lily's shaking body up and threw a silvery fabric over both of them that she briefly registered was some form of Invisibility Cloak. She hardly cared. As if anything truly mattered anymore.

Next Chapter: The Mistake