Hey guys, as I mentioned on tumblr, I'm taking a little break after this. It's my dad's birthday, so I'm dedicating this chapter to him 3 Please hold all your loved ones close and give them a hug and a kiss for me. Also, ask all those questions you've always told yourself you'll ask later now. Seriously. Who cares if it's weird, it's better than never getting to know later. I wish I had when he could still answer :( Sorry if there are more grammar errors than usual.

I put this fic's playlist on spotify if anyone's interested. Link's on my tumblr (tiffanytoms) as well. Much love.

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

Song: End Of Me by A Day To Remember

The Hatred

Lily flew out of the hospital wing, running right into Potter, knocking them both over to the ground. The heavy door swung shut behind her with a resounding thunk. She clambered up to her feet, still panicked and filled with the desperate need to put as much distance between her and the people she had just run away from.

"Lils, what the fuck just—" James' face softened as he got up in front of her, instantly noticing the streaks of tears staining her face. "Hey," he cooed soothingly, reaching for her and using his thumbs to wipe away the moisture from her cheeks. "What happened?"

She wanted to punch him in the nose — logically. This man had betrayed her; he had used her like a chess piece for Voldemort's side and she had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, but it seemed like the heavy dose of Veritaserum still cruising through her veins made her incapable of lying to her own heart, as well as with her words.

She leaned into his touch.

"They think I'm colluding with you," Lily replied, unable to help herself, before rapidly clapping a hand over her mouth. She supposed it didn't matter: it wasn't like he didn't already know that she was working for the Order.

James looked shocked by her answer, but then unreasonably angry. He glanced over her head as though he could see through the door just like Moody had. "Did they hurt you?"

If she didn't know any better, she'd say he was about five seconds away from trying to storm in there himself — Pomfrey's ward be damned — and dish them his own little serving of revenge. "Yes, but please, James. Just take me home."

The vulnerability in her voice made him turn back to her. "Lils, what did—?"

"Please," she cut him off desperately, "no more questions. They gave me Veritaserum." She knew it was a dangerous thing to admit, but there was a strong possibility that not telling him would be worse.

She watched as about a dozen emotions flitted across his face. She knew he was fighting an overwhelming desire to ask her everything he'd ever wondered about her, but it failed to compare to the powerful seething fervor possessing him to punish anyone who dared force Lily to do anything she didn't want to do. "They gave you Veritaserum?" His upper lip curled dangerously over his top teeth as his words dripped with venom.

"Yes, but—" He was so mad, he was physically shaking, so Lily grasped his hands in both of hers. "Please, James, please, I want to go home."

James' fists jerked in her hold, but he steadied them with a long drag of air in through his nose, and out of his mouth, his eyes sealed shut. "Are you okay?"

"No," she answered truthfully. "Please, please, no more questions."

Without further ado, James took her hand and started pulling her down the corridor, leading her to a shortcut to retreat to the dungeons. "We have the antidote, I can give you some."

"You do?" Lily asked, flabbergasted. She hadn't even been aware that there was an antidote to the world's strongest truth potion.

"Yeah, I'm the son of a potions prodigy, remember? We had to invent it. Occupational hazard — people are always trying to slip that stuff into our drinks." He pulled back a drape and ushered her behind it, hand on the small of her back. "I tested it against the Veritaserum we brewed together myself. It holds up."

Sweet Merlin. Lily distinctly remembered feeling bad for whoever he'd use the potion they'd made in class on, but in reality, he'd ingested it himself to invent a cure instead. Not knowing what exactly came over her, Lily pulled James' face to hers as she pushed him against the wall of the secluded secret stairwell, kissing him fiercely.

James responded in kind, his rage transforming into passion as he sunk down more to her height, arms wrapping around her waist, so she could kiss him just as enthusiastically as she so clearly craved. Their hands were everywhere, but kissing him was stopping her mind from racing everywhere too. She needed this. She needed him. What had irrevocably changed between them because of what she'd just learnt could wait — if only for a few more minutes — because in the here and now, everything just felt so nice. When Lily finally broke free, both their lips were swollen and bruised, his shirt an absolute wrinkled mess from where she'd roamed and tugged, trying to pull him as tightly into her as possible.

James smirked as he slowly opened his eyes. "I didn't realize a side effect of Veritaserum was horniness, Evans."

"I love you," Lily blurted out, jaw dropping a second later as her wide eyes oscillated frantically between his. Shit, am I just telling everyone I love James Potter now?! Is this our new, fun little pastime? It seemed as though her psyche was trying to fight her on the breakup she knew she had to perform.

James chuckled — a softer, more tinkling sound than she was used to hearing from him — pushing the hand she'd slapped over her face away and tucking back some of her wayward hair. "It's all right, love. I already knew that." Prat. He kissed the tip of her nose. "But, it's okay, because I—"

"Don't—" Lily cut him off, rushing to put her fingertips over his lips as she stood there between his legs. She wanted to hear those words, she really, really did, but how could she? How could she hear him say them knowing what she did and what it meant she must do? They had to come clean about everything, so that she'd know if what he was about to confess was actually real, or just a part of his continued act. She didn't want to have her heart leap out of her chest for some sort of twisted performance on his part. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. "Antidote first. Talk after."

Mercifully, he heeded her plea and lead her to his dorm silently. Only Sirius was there. "Pads, where is our Veritaserum antidote? You had it last," James demanded with absolutely no preamble.

"Why?" Sirius asked curiously, staring between the couple that had just entered his room.

"Lily needs it."

Lily wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Sirius look more gleeful — if he'd had a tail right now, his whole body would have been shaking. "Do you think I'm attractive, sweetheart?"

"Yes." Lily looked at James in a full on panic, begging him to intervene with the intensity of her stare.

Sirius smiled wickedly as James let out a exasperated, "Pads—"

"Do you want to have a threesome with me?"

"Yes." The word came out just a little too fast, even if magically coerced.

"I told you!" he cheered, turning to James.

James silenced his best mate, but it was already too late: Sirius was celebrating Lily's admission by thrusting his hips into the air wildly.

Lily was mortified. She felt as though her face was blushing at least a thousand degrees.

Knowing Sirius would be absolutely no help to him, James rummaged about his room, coming back to Lily when he'd found a small pink vial, placing it in her hand. He leaned in and kissed her temple. "We can discuss that later," he whispered, making her shiver.

Have fucking mercy.

Lily uncorked the vial and chugged it, not wanting to have another damn embarrassing slip-up. She had no idea what James would do with the knowledge that she wanted to fuck him and his best mate at the same time, but she doubted it was anything good. I'm so screwed. She briefly considered that — despite everything — she had just blindly trusted James when he'd told her that whatever was in the vial was safe and acted in the manner that he said it did, but she supposed anything would be preferable to continuing to spill her innermost secrets.

James turned to Sirius, satisfied that Lily had her own freewill back, and unsilenced him. She wished he hadn't, because he was singing a terrible little jingle: "I told you, I told you, your girl wants to shaaag me. I told you, I told you, your girl likes it naaasty."

James ignored him, stepping before Lily to cup both her cheeks. "Better?" he asked.

She nodded but stepped back, eyes taking him in suspiciously. Now the important truths could come out. "How long did you know?"

James took his own small step back. "Lily—"

"How long. Did you know?" she repeated, steadily.

Even Sirius felt the atmosphere of the room shift. He awkwardly took a magazine from his nightstand and excused himself to the common room.

James put on his best impassive face. "Know what, Evans?"

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. She wanted comfort, she wanted support, she wanted a Merlin-damn hug, but she had to know. "Since when did you know that I was working for the Order?"

He surveyed her, holding his chin up haughtily, his eyes looking down at her. "Since the beginning."

"The beginning of what?" Lily spat out.

"Your mission."

Lily felt as though she'd been punched in the gut. Her eyes darted all over his face, looking for answers she knew she was going to drag out of him one way or another anyway. "You knew—" her voice shook, "—you knew what I was doing this whole time, and you let me…" She didn't even have the words.

"Let you what?" James asked challengingly. "You were spying on me, but I'm the bad guy?"

"You let me sleep with you knowing—?"

James bent down to get on her eye level. "Are you serious? Let you sleep with me?" He motioned an open palm down her body. "Are you even hearing yourself right now?" Lily just shook her head, feeling like it was on the verge of exploding. "Lily, you started sleeping with me to try to get my secrets. You practically seduced me for them." He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Sure, I let you have a few fun ones, to help get you started and stop you from feeling so miserable about yourself all the damn time, but come on."

Lily blinked rapidly, taking another small step back from him. "Let me have a few fun ones?" Had she really been getting this badly hoodwinked the whole time?

Suddenly James was on the offensive. "Yeah. I remember what it's like starting out on a new mission when you're green, so I left you some crumbs. I didn't want you to stress out so much, it was sad. So I thought if you made a good impression with your boss, you'd be a little happier."

Lily ground her teeth together, utterly humiliated. "You're unbelievable."

"No." James pointed an angry finger at her. "No, you do not get to turn this around. The bad guy here is you. You were fucking me to try to use me, not the other way around. I was just fucking you because I wanted to."

No, don't listen to him, don't let him get in your head. She hadn't shagged him to get secrets out of him — sure, that had been the original plan, but it hadn't worked out like that. Intentions mattered, didn't they?

"Look, I don't really care how we got together," James tried, reaching for her hands. "All I care about, is that we are here now—"

Lily slapped his grasp away. "No. No, you were lying to me—"

"So were you!"

Lily wanted to rip her hair out. "None of that makes it right! None of that makes this healthy! You literally set up a trap—"

"I had to know whose side you were on!"

Lily felt like she'd just had an aneurysm. How could he ever doubt what side she was on? "What?!"

"I knew you were listening, love. Of course I knew you were listening." What look was this he was giving her? Was it… pity? "I was hoping you wouldn't tell them. I was hoping you'd pick me." He shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, you did the next night, so that's what really matters."

How was he doing this? How was he making her feel bad about her actions here? As if I don't feel bad enough already. She felt her bottom lip start to tremble as she looked at him. "No…" she murmured, not even sure what she was rejecting. "No, that's… it's not…"

"Lily," he took a step closer still, seeming to decide that if she wouldn't let him hold her hands, he'd clasp onto her waist instead, "you just told me you loved me, remember? All of ten minutes ago in the stairwell? Do you remember that, Lils? Do you?" He looked far too good like that, desperately trying to get her to fight for this, for them. She honestly wished she could put a paper bag over his fucking face already. "Well, guess what?"

"No," Lily pleaded, trying to push his chest away, knowing what he was about to say and what it would do to her, but he kept her there, locking her in between his biceps.

"I love you, too," he whispered, all but breaking Lily in his arms with those four little words. She crumpled into his chest and he instantly took the opportunity to rest his chin on her head, rocking them side to side. "I've always loved you, Lily."

It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. She'd heard it in his voice, felt it in his body, knew it down to her very bones that he was telling her the truth now. He couldn't fake that — no one could be that good at lying. Yet she still wanted to grasp at straws, to delay the inevitable heartache that his confession, the one that matched her own, would cause her. "You can't." Her words were muffled into his jumper as her eyes started to prickle.

He stiffened against her, but his voice remained gentle. "Why not?"

She had never made a move to hug him back. "I don't think you're capable of it."

James drew his face back, using one hand to tilt her chin up to him, searching her eyes. "What would be the point of any of this if I couldn't love?"

An exhausted tear made its way down her cheek. "You tell me."

He traced a finger slowly around her lips, mesmorized by the whole journey. Slowly, he said, "There's just so much you don't know yet, love."

Lily closed her eyes, enjoying his languished contact. She was tired, so damn tired. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not an insult, Lily. It's just a fact."

Her eyes snapped open. "Tell me." She had enough of his secrets. Enough of his lies. Enough of him keeping things from her — and using her for whatever sick purposes he deemed appropriate.

He studied her for a minute, looking torn. "You've suffered enough for one day, my love. I'm not ready to fully break your heart. Not yet."

Great. No one ever tells me shit. Lily knew she was being weak and pathetic, but frankly, she no longer gave a rat's ass. She allowed James to lead her to his bed and spoon her, wrapping them up in blankets and comfortingly stroking her as she cried, letting the events of the day all hit her in full force. She shouldn't be here. She knew that much. He'd made her into an unknowing accomplice in a mass murder, and all but turned her own side against her. But… she allowed herself just a few more hours with the greatest — even if cruelest — love she'd ever known, because more than ever, she needed it.

Night had fallen by the time Lily woke up, cradled in James' warm embrace. He was breathing softly, his face mere inches from hers as though he'd fallen asleep whilst watching her. She really wouldn't put it past him. It was never his level of attention to her that had been the problem — it had always been his morality, and what he was willing to do to get what he wanted.

She supposed she must have rolled over to face him at some point, but that was hardly surprising — they were like magnets, their opposition driving them together from the start.

While the previous conversation with him had been brutal, there had been a nugget of hope and relief in the form of his confession: he loved her. He had straight up, no holds barred, told her that he was in love with her, even after they'd laid out their conflicting loyalties on the table. It didn't matter that he knew that she knew that he knew that she was a spy. Which meant… he's not in it just to use me. If he had merely been dating her to feed the Order bad information, or possibly even to get trade secrets out of her, then he would have gotten rid of her after she'd told him the gig was up. But he hadn't.

He'd taken care of her.

And what had the Order done? Drugged her and hung her out to dry.

'What do you want, Potter?' … 'You.' The scene played back in her head, making her oddly sentimental. She didn't need to dwell on his words now, as much as she clearly wanted to. He was smooth — he'd always known what to say to reel her in, to keep her there, to get her to do his bidding. But had he actually ever changed? Had he actually ever done anything good? Isn't love supposed to make you into a better person? Last night, when they'd been together, was supposed to be one of the best days of her life — and sadly, it still was. Her heart was at war with her mind: one telling her, He could love you so completely despite knowing you were betraying him… while the other was screaming, Well, that doesn't bloody matter, now does it?! She would never forget watching the look in James' eyes as she admitted to him that she fancied him; she would never forget how her heart had absolutely fluttered when she'd felt safe and secure and loved with him, all alone in that classroom. He was there, tangible and strong, and she could just reach out and touch him, because he was hers. It had been an addictive feeling that she didn't think she'd have to give up so soon.

Yet here they were.

Careful not to wake him, she gently traced his eyebrows, his cheekbones, and his jaw, before tenderly pressing her lips to his forehead. She lingered in the feeling of safety that she now knew rang false, but had felt so real a mere 24 hours ago. (That, traitorously, still did feel real.) She didn't know how she found the strength to leave him there, but somehow, she did.

She completely missed when he opened his eyes to watch her go as she snuck out of his bed, and out of the room.

Lily felt numb as she ascended the boys' staircase, making it up to the Slytherin common room in a daze. She was so lost in her own pain and anguish that she hadn't even realized Emma Vanity had been sitting by the fireplace, looking proper and pretty with her legs curled up under her on the couch, until her sticky sweet voice rang out.

"You don't belong here." Emma was normally a girl who would hit you with a compliment with undertones so devastating, it would land like the worst burn of your life. Lily guessed she didn't have the patience for that tonight.

Good. Because neither do I. Lily looked up at her, wondering if the girl had charmed her lips to be even fuller and puffier than last time she'd seen them. Whether it was because of the stress of the death of eighteen victims on her hands, the betrayal of her mentors accosting her, or the torture of having to walk away from James, Lily felt something inside of her snap, giving her a ravenous taste for blood. She wanted to cut this bitch down in the same way she had for years. "That's funny," Lily said snakily, tilting her head while she crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet firmly, standing her ground, "because by the look of it, I'm starting to belong here more than you."

Emma's chin jerked back, not expecting this response in the slightest. "What do you mean?"

Lily huffed, refusing to break eye contact with her — an act that felt like an animalistic fight for dominance. "You'll figure it out. Eventually." She smiled. "Perhaps."

Rage colored Emma's face, making red blotches appear on her neck and forehead. She was definitely not used to being talked down to like this — especially by someone she'd consider so far beneath her. Lily was quite sure this was almost as bad a scenario to her as if a house-elf had told her no. She drew in a shaky breath. "Did you just call me dumb?"

Lily had her retort ready within half a second. "No. But I implied it."

Fists shaking, Emma got to her feet. "He'll end up with a Pureblood lady. They might mess around in the mud, but they always find their way back to us. Always."

Lily snorted, letting just how laughable and desperate she found this girl's statement radiate out of every pore. James' love for her was not really something she worried about anymore. Hadn't she just realized that that wasn't the problem? Sure, they'd pretty much just broken up, even if Potter might not really be privy to that information yet, but Emma didn't have to know that. Lying to her right now would be fun. It would be what the bigot deserved. "Look sweetheart, I don't know what you think this is. But that boy?" She pointed down in the vague direction of his room beneath her feet as she took a few steps forward, really leaning in as she whispered, "He's obsessed with me." Hm, maybe I won't even need to lie after all. Lily considered it a win all around. "And frankly, it's pathetic that you think that even if I wasn't in the picture, he'd ever consider going back to you. Given what I heard about your… skills." Fuck. So maybe just a little lie.

Emma went from flushed to pale in record time, a shiver of panic flowing through her. Lily could tell she had the girl in the palm of her hand, like a little gnat she was about to crush. "What skills?" she asked, voice quivering.

Lily let out a dry chuckle, going in for the kill. "Well, he told me you're utterly terrible in bed. Couldn't stop laughing about it actually." Was it true? No. But it could be, how would she know?

"You're a— a—" Emma sputtered, holding back tears.

Lily bowed her head closer, drawing her eyebrows together in mocking sincerity. "I'm a what, sweetheart?"

Emma let out a squeal of frustration, muttering, "Mudblood bitch," under her breath as she stomped to the girls' staircase and ran out of sight.

*Clap. Clap. Clap.*

Lily winced as she realized there had been someone else in the room to watch her tiny display of vengeance and turned slowly to the sound, finding Sirius of all people sitting in an armchair tucked away in a dark back corner, magazine lying open and forgotten on his lap. Great. Bloody brilliant. Just my luck. She guessed he had never made it back to his room.

"Damn, Evans. I didn't think you had it in you." She wasn't a fan of just how impressed he sounded. He made no move to approach her and she stayed just as far away from him as she was too. "You know, Prongs told me you did, but I didn't believe him."

Lily wasn't sure what James had said, but she was sure it was no good. "The girl's a bully. She needed to be put in her place," she defended.

He chuckled darkly. "Right, right. 'Sometimes you gotta be the bully, to stop the bully,' just like Prongs said, eh?" Lily clenched her jaw, not really liking his comparison between them either. This was different. Emma had used hate speech; when James and Sirius had punished Greg by spinning him upside down in the hall (Right before I kissed Potter…), Greg had — Well. I don't actually know what Greg had said… She supposed that Sirius did, but she'd never ask him. She didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing he'd just made a pretty decent point. Sirius carried on, "I gotta say, the 'sweetheart' was an extra nice touch. Where'd you learn that?" He was puckering his lips in a self-congratulatory grin.

"Shut up," Lily sighed, finally marching toward the door, ready to get the hell out of here. Sirius had a true gift for making her feel ashamed of herself — given his knack of pointing out every time she performed less than noble deeds.

He wasn't done talking yet. "You know, it's funny that you always act like the hapless victim in all of this, the innocent little sheep being chased by wolves on all sides." Lily froze by the passageway, letting his words hit her spine. "Because you wanna know what I think?" He hardly waited two seconds before telling her anyway. "I think you know exactly what you're doing… and you're the one with fangs."

Lily closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and left. She didn't have time for a lecture.

Everything changed after that. The eighteen dead Aurors had left quite the impact on the student population, and in the weeks that followed, it was not unusual to find a peer crying in a stairwell or outside of class. The agony that hit Lily the hardest was that of her new acquaintance Frank Longbottom, whom she found outside of Herbology one day, trying to hide his tears. She knew she didn't know him that well, but she felt like they'd had an instant connection in his detention, so naturally, she tried to approach him to offer comfort when she saw that he was hurting. But he'd immediately shunned her presence, wanting absolutely nothing to do with her.

"Excuse me," he'd said in the harshest tone he could muster, which honestly, was barely enough to feel like a sting. His whole aura was just far too kind for any real malice.

Or so she'd thought.

"Frank, it's me," Lily said quickly, holding up her hands in front of her, worried he might be a hypochondriac. His reaction to a simple hand on the shoulder had seemed like he thought her touch was the end of the world. She thought she understood him, because she was cut from a very similar cloth, wasn't she? Everyone had always told her that she was so unflappably kind as well.

"I know, that's why I said excuse me," Frank said defiantly.

Lily took another step back, trying to give him space. "I'm sorry, I just thought you were upset and might want—"

"Of course I'm upset. The only girl I've ever thought about is dead."

Lily's heart turned to ice. "One of the Aurors…?"

Frank turned to her coldly, giving her a look that absolutely took her breath away. She had never imagined that someone so nice could level a glower so menacing. "You don't get to talk about her."

Lily took yet another stumbling step back. "… Me?"

"I saw you with him," Frank snarled. "We all saw you with him. Kissing the captain of their little gang like he isn't directly responsible for all of this. Making out with him on the same night that they killed my Alic—" he cut himself off, as if remembering who he was talking to — the enemy.

"Frank," Lily tried, "I didn't know—"

"Fuck you, Lily Evans," Frank spat walking past her. "Fuck you."

Lily had skipped the rest of her classes for the day after that encounter — and she definitely noticed that not a single girl in her dorm bothered to ask her what was wrong when they found her crying in the showers. It was like they already knew, and just like Frank, thought that she deserved the pain she was now experiencing.

She'd never been popular, but she'd also never been this reviled either.

Even Professor McGonagall seemingly no longer knew how to treat her. From her perspective, Lily had gone from a beloved student, to a possible double agent, to someone she could no longer look in the eye because she'd done nothing as a colleague crossed all the lines in interrogating her.

Lily thought it was probably for the best that her former mentor was now avoiding her — she couldn't stand to look at her face either. The betrayal stung too much.

All of this stress — mixed with her own guilt from admitting she wanted to fuck his crush, to said crush's face — made Lily extremely squeamish around Remus. Ironically, just when she felt like she needed a friend the most, the two of them seemed to be drifting further and further apart, and Lily had no idea how to bridge that divide. To his credit, Remus thought that Lily was only ("Only") recovering from the fact that she'd been used in order to kill eighteen Aurors, and was giving her the space he thought she needed to recover.

Lily was worried she'd combust from the weight of all her shame. There was only so much one woman could take.

Unfortunately for Lily, Potter didn't quite seem to get the message that she was absolutely done with him — but for real this time. She wanted to say it was a breakup, but could you even call it that if the only night you were together, his friends were out killing yours? She felt like that sort of nullified the whole arrangement. But at least he hadn't killed anyone… (She had to kick herself, because when had the concept of death become such a flippant one to her?)

One night, Lily awoke to the sound of a squealing scream in her dorm, and promptly ripped her curtains open to see Potter standing there at the foot of her roommate Lauren's bed, staring at her confused.

"Whoops. You're nah Lily."

"What the hell, Potter? How'd you get up the stairs?" Lauren screeched.

"Ha, dun tell me Gryffindor boys haven't figured out how to do that either," he snorted, shaking his head. The realization slowly struck Lily (she was half-asleep) by his slurred speech and stumbling feet: he was drunk.

"What?!"

Lauren looked curious as to what he was implying against her better judgement, but Potter had already moved on, looking at the other beds as each girl opened their individual curtains, searching for the source of all this ruckus. His barely focused eyes finally landed on her. "Lils!" He sounded so damn excited, it was nearly impossible not to smile at him. She remembered him telling her how he was an affectionate drunk after he'd gotten attacked by Moody. She'd hardly believed him at the time, but she guessed he hadn't been lying — about that at least. "There you are…"

"Lily, what the fuck! We're trying to sleep!"

"He isn't allowed up here—"

"It's bloody 2 in the morning—!"

"All right, all right!" Lily cut them all off, pushing down her covers and scrambling out of bed, determined to take Potter downstairs and lob him out the portrait door. "I got him, I got him."

Unfortunately for her, Potter had other plans. He flew past her, torpedoing himself onto her bed and settling in.

"No, Potter, no—" she reprimanded, as if talking to an overexcited golden retriever, trying to yank on his arm, but he wouldn't budge.

"Dis is your bed?" he asked, face in her pillow. "I like, it smells like you."

"Potter—" she tried once more, hands on her hips, having given up on physically trying to remove him and attempting to sound stern instead, despite her already waning resolve. How was she supposed to kick him out when he looked so goddamn adorable?

"This is so comfy. Why haven't you ever invited me up here?" He rolled onto his back and shot her puppy eyes. Good Merlin… She felt her heart jumping to her throat, quite sure she was openly staring at him right back, but unable to do anything else. It had been such a rough few weeks without him.

"Lily!"

"Okay, fuck!" Lily cried out over her shoulder to unknown roommate number five, crawling back into bed and tearing her curtains closed so she could throw up a muffling spell.

The silence that followed was loud.

"Hi," James said simply, gazing up at her, glasses lopsided, hearts all but gushing out of his eyes. He hadn't been exaggerating in the slightest — he was the world's sappiest drunk.

Lily crossed her legs as she sat down next to him, not trusting herself to lie beside him. He was smiling at her so angelically. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I missed you," he answered simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Potter," don't give in, don't give in, "you need to—"

"Haven't you missed me, too?"

He was so cute, she could almost forget all the fuzzy details that surrounded them getting together. Almost. She looked down at her lap. "Yes. But that doesn't—"

He put a hasty finger to her lips, poking her slightly with his liquored up movements. "Shhh, sh sh sh. I don't wanna fight tonight." He unexpectedly grabbed her elbow, and yanked her down to him, immediately engulfing her in his heavy arms. "I just wanna cuddle."

In her head, she secretly hoped her pillow now smelt like him instead of her, if only a little. "Pohher—" she tried speaking though her face was smooshed into his chest. His solid, wonderful chest. She was melting a bit, she realized that.

He snuggled his mouth against the top of her head, breathing her in deeply, as he swung a leg around her too, anchoring himself to her completely as though he was a koala bear. "Do you remember that one night you were my girlfriend?" he asked, seemingly lost in happy memories and hardly there at all.

Lily couldn't help it — the hand that she'd been using to push him away now came up behind his back, holding on. "Yeah." She tried forcing down her heart, which had awkwardly decided to take up residence in her throat.

He was drifting into sleep, she could tell. She wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink that night, but she'd bet her nonexistent lifesavings that it was a lot. He probably had barely made it up to her dorm and nearly passed out in a stairwell instead. "It was… the best night of my life," he mumbled.

Lily choked back a sob, his words, these feelings, this, threatening to swallow her whole. She retracted her hands to cover her face, not wanting him to see her cry. He already had enough of a hold over her without seeing her being this defenseless — again. Right after she'd learnt the truth was one thing, but she was supposed to be over it by now, wasn't she? She doubted her grace period was supposed to be this long. Of course she'd missed him. Of fucking course he was all she could think about day in and day out and not having him when he was all she'd ever wanted was driving her mad.

Potter seemed to lurch back to consciousness, sensing something was wrong. She felt probing lips kissing the top of her forehead and the tips of her fingers. "Hey, hey… what's wrong?" he asked softly, genuinely.

"Nothing," she responded, feeling her hands over her eyes shake as much as her voice. "I'll get over you, I'll get over you," she chanted. "I just need some more time."

He easily pulled her hands off and peppered kisses over her brows and wet eyelashes. "I don't want you to get over me." He moved his lips down her nose, hovering over hers. "Ever."

His tongue was sloppy and tasted like Firewhiskey — but it was hers. He was in her bed and kissing her, and good Merlin, did that feel good. Lily felt his body relax a few seconds later, as if the release of telling her this big, vulnerable thing had allowed all the tension to leave his body so he could finally succumb to sleep.

Of course, he always slept naked. Lily rolled her eyes when his head got caught pulling off his jumper, joking about how he was only trying to replicate how he'd seen her drunkly undress before, but her mirth slipped right off her face when she saw his bare chest. "James—" she ran a frantic hand over the deep purple bruise that spanned from his collarbone all the way down to his pronounced Adonis belt. It looked horrific — as though at one point or another, all the blood in his body had pooled deep under the muscles there and had yet to disperse back to where it originally belonged. He hissed slightly at the pressure. "What happened?" she whispered concerned. "And don't you have a salve for this?"

"Ran out," James grunted. "Snape tattled to the Dark Lord why I missed the raid. The slimy git's after my position." He shucked his trousers and pulled up the covers over both of them. "He wasn't pleased. I had to say—" he cut himself off, looking as though he got distracted, or hit in the face with something (which was impossible, because she could see quite clearly that that wasn't the case). "He thought I needed a lesson to remind me of where my loyalties should lie."

How the hell was he being so calm about this? Voldemort attacked him? His own master? A realization hit Lily like a freight train: He missed the ambush because of me. Great. Did she not only have to worry about her own safety by being with him, but now his too? She was pissed, so fucking pissed. Who the fuck did this Voldecunt think he was hurting James? And why was someone as brilliant as James letting him? "Did it work?" she asked.

James seemed to have a moment of clarity as he stared at her, making the whole world melt away around them. "Yeah. It did."

How many skipped heartbeats are normal before you have to worry about having an irregular rhythm? Lily was asking for a friend. He'd chosen her. He was supposed to spearhead the mass murder of the Auror department, but instead he'd stayed in the castle with her over Voldemort. Wasn't that what she'd always wanted and worried would never happen? "James, I—"

"I would literally do anything for you. You know that right? Anything." That was a lie. She was fairly certain he would never leave her alone — even if she'd meant it. "Shhh," James cooed even though she hadn't said anything, pulling her in close as he yawned. His drunkness seemed to have come back to hit him in full force. "Bedtime."

Lily didn't have the heart to toss him out of her bed after that, but she did notice he was gone by the time she awoke in the morning. On her pillow next to her, was a beautiful long-stemmed red rose with all the thorns still attached. She knew she shouldn't, but she conjured up a little vase to house it on her nightstand anyway. It smelt divine.

Then there was the incident in class the next day. She was hoping he didn't remember the tender moment they'd shared while he was piss drunk, but not only did it appear that he did, but he also seemed to have gotten emboldened by their talk.

"Go out with me, Evans."

"Are you—?"

"On a proper date. I still haven't taken you on one of those. I should really take my girlfriend out."

"I'm not your girlfriend anymore—"

Potter tilted his head, mimicking confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't think you realized: that position was for life." Lily fumed, grabbing him by the delectable forearm and dragging him to the corner of the Transfiguration classroom before McGonagall walked out of her office to begin the lesson. There seemed to be some incident with a student that had been morphed into a ferret that was taking her an awfully long time to rectify.

Lily looked over her shoulder before fixing him with a glare that would pulverize the average man on the spot — not Potter though. "Look. Fucking cut it out. Things have changed—"

"No, they haven't," Potter answered stubbornly. "Not from where I'm standing."

Lily stopped herself from screaming 'WELL, YOU'RE STANDING ON A BED OF LIES,' because it seemed a touch dramatic. "Potter—"

"James," he insisted. "You can't just go back to surnames because you're trying to dehumanize me. You said so yourself, you're not over me, and obviously, I'll never get over you—"

"That's not—" Lily cut herself off, squeezing her eyelids closed and digging her nails into his skin, only releasing him when the action made her realize she'd never actually let go of his arm. She whispered on, fully pissed off, "You know why I can't be with you. You know why." She felt almost like she was going a little crazy with his repeated insistence that everything was okay — and that all that should matter was how they felt about each other. As if outside factors (like small instances of mass murder) never affected how relationships played out.

Potter's face morphed in annoyance, and he leaned into her, placing an angry hand on the wall beside her head. Lily made the mistake of looking around his shoulder as she got herded backwards, catching the eye of Benjy and his friends watching their interaction. Just like with everyone else, she saw absolutely no sympathy in his gaze — as though he was telling her: 'You made your bed with the devil. Now lie in it.' She felt like everyone was looking at them, but no one was doing anything, probably terrified of him and all the ways he could retaliate against them if they tried to interfere. If they even want to interfere in the first place… Lily wondered if anyone could pick up on what they were talking about from where they were sitting.

His throaty voice snapped Lily out of her self-conscious musings. "Look, Evans. I know you're mad, I get that—" she snorted, but he carried on, "—but you've got to stop this pattern you do. This back and forth, and running away every time it gets hard." His free hand ran through his hair. "It's exhausting."

She looked up at him, horrorstruck, mouth gaping. "You think me dumping you was because I was being wishy-washy?!"

He rolled his eyes. "Firstly, you didn't dump me, don't be ridiculous, that would have required an actual adult conversation about the matter instead of just ignoring me in the hopes I'd go away. Which, clearly, I won't." She wanted to strangle him. "Secondly, no, if you had, I know it would be because you're scared, but eventually, you'll have to stand on your own two feet—"

"UGH!" she screamed, pushing him back with both her hands against his chest. "UGH!" The noise was guttural, ripped from the depths of her throat. She had no choice in their delivery, as though her anger and frustration had just needed an outlet in any way that got itself the hell out of her body.

He smiled, taking a small step backwards. "Love—"

"Stop. Calling. ME THAT!" Lily shrieked, not thinking, but instinctually grabbing for her wand and throwing the first hex she could think of his way.

Potter ducked last minute, and Lily watched in horror as Benjy, sitting right behind him in the line of fire, doubled over in pain. Fuck.

Potter's lips twitched. "Nice aim, babe."

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Lily was vaguely aware that she was losing it, making a huge spectacle of herself that she wanted absolutely no part of. All the whispers and hurried glances and suspicion, so much damn suspicion, that had been following her around for weeks was finally cracking her, the pressure making her ready to positively blow. She was sure he was loving watching her composure crumble, completely forgetting herself in a room full of people, but not everyone was an overeager attention-whore like him. She had to rein it in.

He seemed to have no intention of letting her do so. In between blocking her curses, he somehow found the time to roll up his sleeves — to remind her of his Dark Mark or sexy-ass arms, she had no clue. "Easy Evans… you're losing control," he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement whilst he casually strolled around the room, as if this fight had become a class demonstration.

"Fuck you!" Lily screamed, escalating their brawl to a full on, albeit one-sided, duel, throwing every curse she had ever learnt at him, getting more and more frustrated with every block and deflection he made. He made it look so easy — if she wasn't so angry as hell, it would have been really friggin' hot how effortless he always made even the most complex of magic look. She'd wonder just how powerful he truly was, and ponder if he was squandering away all his talents on stupid things like pranks and torture. And being someone else's second in command.

"If you go on a date with me, you can do that as many times as you'd like." He gave her the most infuriating, yet devilishly charming, wink of her entire life.

Lily twitched as a few girls in the classroom gasped. She saw Emma fling her hair off her shoulder and haughtily turn away from the drama that had drawn the whole class in, as though if she didn't see the problem (Lily), it wouldn't exist. Potter had just invited everyone into their previously private conversation and Lily saw red. "I told you, Potter. I don't want to go on a date with you ever again!" One of her spells finally landed, making a small slice across his cheek. She instantly regretted it, and fought with everything she had to not apologize right away, and go heal it.

Don't. He earned that.

Potter stilled, and Lily could have sworn the whole classroom collectively held their breath, watching to see what he'd do. She wasn't sure if anyone had ever dared physically harm the head Death Eater of the school like this. As she stood there, wand hanging limply at her side, waiting for his inevitable retaliation, Potter reached for his cheek with the back of his hand as if in slow motion, and wiped the blood off, looking at it critically.

Lily gulped. The seconds seemed to last months, and oddly, she felt her body coming alive — whether from adrenaline or lust, it was so very hard to tell. Own me, baby, her mind mewled, knowing he was about to punish her somehow, and frankly, she could hardly wait.

Suddenly, he was in full attack mode, slinging curses and flashing spells at her so rapidly, she totally lost her breath. Blinded and off-kilter, she could only see his outline, stalking towards her as she felt her clothes ripping, realizing he had somehow cut just her bra straps and both ends of her knickers, dropping the fabric to the floor. If she'd have had any time for reflection, she would have been amazed by the level of skill and control over magic it must have taken him to not only slice underneath her skirt and jumper, but to localize the cut so that not one bit of her skin was hurt as well. She didn't have time to be impressed however — only completely humiliated, and somehow wet.

He was now directly in front of her, his arm movements almost touching her own outstretched wand, futilely trying to defend herself, when a look of pure evil overtook his face — and Lily knew she was utterly screwed. "Go out with me, Evans."

Lily tried throwing one more curse at him, an equally humbling one that would have had him hanging upside down by the ankles like he deserved, but he merely hit her wand out of her hand as though it was a pesky fly. He then shot her with a spell she didn't recognize, and Lily choked immediately as it hit. A warmth started in her stomach before sinking down like water to between her legs, building and building in steam until it was no longer warmth, but pleasure. Lily knew this feeling all too well — it was identical to the one she had experienced every morning hanging from her branch.

She swallowed audibly as her eyes snapped up to his, knowing what he'd just done, even if she had no idea how. This fucking bastard. Did he invent a motherfucking orgasm charm as well? How fucking smart is he? With no wand to cry 'Finite Incantatem,' Lily just stood there, starting to tremble, looking at him desperately for help, already getting lost to the feeling gathering in her core.

Getting back into his previous pose of bracketing her against the wall (only now even more cockily, palms flat and leaning in), he whispered, "Admit defeat, Evans." Lily tried ignoring him, tilting her head back, not knowing where to look as she felt her climax rising within her. She settled for screwing her eyes closed, trying to pretend like he wasn't trying to make her come in front of nearly their entire grade, watching her. "Admit defeat, and maybe I'll let you have it."

This fucking cunt. The only thing worse than not coming right now would have been… coming right now.

He pushed her further still. "There's really no point in denying us, baby." Lily muffled her biggest moan yet, biting the inside of her cheek as one of her hands reflexively reached out for his belt, clutching at it. With his back to the class, she hoped that at least no one had seen the move. "If everyone already assumes the worst in you, you can at least allow yourself a little fun." One of his hands cupped her face, fingers trailing down her cheek. "Don't you want to earn some of that hatred? You know, do something naughty to actually deserve it?"

He was right, bloody hell, was he right. It wasn't as though she could fall even further from grace in everyone's eyes. Why was she still clinging so desperately to a pristine image that no longer existed? "Fine," she ground out, pulling his hips closer, wanting so badly for something to stabilize her.

He leaned into her ear, hand settling on her waist. The move alone nearly pushed her over the edge. "Fine, what, love?"

She almost forgot what she was agreeing to, so desperate for something else at the moment. "I'll go on a date with you," she whimpered. "Please, just stop it." She squeezed her thighs together, squirming. It wasn't lost on her that he had taken the way she had asked him out on their first date — mid-duel — and turned it right back around on her, doing the same. She was curious if fighting with each other turned both of them on, or if it was just her. I doubt it. "Finish me later," she added huskily.

She felt his smirk as he flicked his wand and the feeling immediately went away, leaving her gasping and collapsing against the wall. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He unexpectedly stole a kiss, as if he couldn't even help himself, audience be damned. "Pick you up tonight at 7. Come hungry, we'll have dinner together."

He turned to go to his seat, as if anyone could have a normal Transfiguration lecture after that, and Lily just stared after him. "But it's a school night…" If he heard her quiet protest, he made no show of it.

With truly miraculous timing, McGonagall entered the room seconds later, and Lily watched the same little boy who had stepped on Potter's foot in the Great Hall the morning after the lockdown scamper out through the door, embarrassed as hell. At least he's no longer a ferret…

McGonagall seemed quite vexed that everyone was chatting and thoroughly distracted over the course of the next hour, but at least one student was able to make the new transformation they were learning on the first try. Unfortunately for her (and Lily), that student was Potter.

Next Chapter: The Date