Lily Evans sat, cross-legged, in the empty Gryffindor common room, lazily flipping the pages of the latest issue of Witch Weekly. Sighing quietly, she discarded the magazine by throwing it across the room, and lifted her hands to her head, massaging her temples. It had been one hell of a Christmas.
Maybe not a particularly exciting one, to say the least. Lily had spent most of it in solitude, apart from the rare occasions when a teacher would amble past her (Slughorn) and smile genially with what James Potter had, a week earlier, jokingly described as 'bedroom eyes'. The thought of it made Lily shiver. But though the break had been quiet, it was still shocking to her. James and his gang, the Marauders, had sailed off back home together (without her) for the break, just like almost everyone else in the school. Lily was one of four Gryffindors that remained in the castle.
When she was alone, Lily's mind was a dangerous thing. She allowed it to focus on a subject for a brief moment, then speed off to random locations of its own will. Everyone, Lily figured, had a gift – a particular talent. This was hers. If she dug down deep enough, she would be able to tell that it was her way of compensating for the fact that she felt abandoned. But, like the gardener who attempted to build a well by taking shallow digs at the earth, she never stopped to go that far into her thoughts. And so she had exercised this gift throughout the break, telling herself that she didn't need people around her to have a good time. She didn't even need her family. She was perfectly fine by herself. Abso-sodding-lutely. Fine. With this special gift of hers, she could survive.
Which is why, when Sirius Black's head appeared in the Common Room fireplace that night, Lily wasn't hysterical. She remained completely cool and calm on the surface.
"Lily?" His voice cut through the silence, quiet but urgent. Lily spun to stare at the flames, feeling sure that she had just imagined it. But then his voice came again. "Lily!"
"Black? What the hell are you doing in – or to – the fireplace?" Sirius shook his head, cutting her off.
"There was an attack."
And there it was. Four words that swept through her like an Antarctic wind, cutting off her air supply and leaving her body brutally numb and frozen still. There was a long pause as she listened to the methodical slamming of her heart against her chest. This couldn't mean what she thought it meant. It couldn't. Not after a holiday like this. Finally, she gathered her thoughts and unlocked her jaw.
"Who was hurt?" At this, Sirius looked deeply troubled. He stuttered, obviously trying hard to properly formulate a sentence.
"The Dementors, they came to the house. He must have sent them-"
"Sirius," Lily said, trying desperately not to cry. "Who was hurt!" It was a long time before Sirius' head answered her from the fireplace.
"He's asking for you." He replied quietly, and a hand reached up from the fire, its fingers spread open invitingly. Lily gave a small whimper and reached forward towards Sirius' outstretched arm, where she noticed something she hadn't before. It was a tiny pouch.
"Floo Powder," Sirius said, by way of explanation. Lily noticed with some desperation that his breath was catching on his words. "It'll take you to St Mungos." Lily nodded, and after handing her the pouch, Sirius was gone, leaving nothing but the echo of a sob in his wake.
Suddenly Lily realised the gravity of the situation. It was as though she had not allowed it to fully impress upon her the seriousness of what happened until now. Her throat thickened and breath was catching, a clear wall of tears building up against her eye and suddenly unleashing the salt water, snaking wet paths across her face. She shook her head. This wasn't the time or place. She needed to go. She needed to find him.
She opened the pouch and flung its contents into the flames, stepping forward with such a need that she momentarily forgot her destination.
"St Mungos!" She yelled, and in a moment, she had vanished.
---
The moment she arrived there, Lily knew that something was wrong. Various Healers raced across the rooms, shouting for help. The waiting room was full of miserable looking people – mostly women and children, though a few distraught husbands were clinging nervously to their robes. She approached the front desk, where a harassed-looking witch was busily signing release forms for a man who looked as though his face had just been sown back on.
"I'm here to see James Pott-"
"Are you a relative?" The witch interrupted nastily, still focused on signing the parchment on her desk.
"Well, no, but-"
"No visitors except relatives." The Welcome Witch told Lily abruptly, looking up at her for a moment before returning to her forms.
"But he's asking for me!" At this, the witch laughed.
"So," she chuckled, "You're Lily Evans, eh?" Lily jumped at this.
"Yes," she began slowly, "and I want to see James Potter."
"Been asking for you non-stop, he has, since he woke up." The witch told Lily, suddenly looking pleased with herself. "He's been refusing treatment until he sees you." At this, something inside Lily snapped.
"WELL YOU'D BLOODY WELL BETTER LET ME SEE HIM, THEN, YOU STUPID WOMAN!"
Unfortunately, this little scene erupted during an ill-timed lull in the chaos that surrounded Lily, and Healers momentarily stopped to stare at her. Lily turned back to the Welcome Witch to find her chest puffed up and her nose in the air.
"Fourth Floor. Room 12. Piëmche Ward." Lily walked towards the stairs without thanking the woman. Steadily, she made her way to James, concentrating on breathing. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Insert her special talent here – she couldn't read too much into this whole situation. She just couldn't. The consequences would be too devastating for her to even contemplate. She had to make herself inexorable.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts before crossing the threshold to James. Sirius stood to greet her, grimly shaking her hand before turning and swiftly leaving. He didn't say a word to her. He didn't really need to.
Lily approached James cautiously, almost falling apart at his bleary gaze up at her. The expression on his face was unbearable. It was as though he had simply tried to rearrange his face so that it looked like an expression somewhat similar to reassurance. But Lily was smarter than that. She read between the contours of James' smile and saw panic and confusion there. It took all of her energy not to simply break down then and there.
"Hey there," she bleated, feeling utterly helpless. "How're you doing?"
James took his time in answering her: "A lot better now that you're here." A pause.
"Sirius didn't explain much about what happened when I spoke to him…" Lily began, trailing off when she saw the look on James face. Her desire to cry suddenly increased tenfold. Thankfully, James didn't need much prompting. His speech was slow and steady, and he occasionally put his hands on his ribs, as though checking that they were still there.
"We were at my place," he began hoarsely. "And they – the Dementors – were pretty much just waiting for us outside. Pick us off, one by one." Lily's eyes began to water at the way James' own eyes were shining. Suddenly, the feelings of rejection and abandonment that she had so carefully kept hidden for the last week created a huge wall of pressure on Lily's emotions, and her eyes welled – slowly, at first, but then the streams of tears became wider and longer and soon she was on her knees, gripping James' wrist. Sitting up, he breathed comforting, meaningless sighs into her hair, allowing his own tears to get the better of him. Suddenly she heard his voice somewhere above her head.
"I couldn't breathe. I couldn't cry. I couldn't even die," he began softly.
"Please, James," Lily begged, but he continued.
"It wouldn't let me go, and all I could think about was when it would be over and I could get back to you. You kept me alive."
"I heard that you were asking for me." Lily opened her mouth, and that was the first thing that came out.
"Well," James said, his smile miraculously broadening through his obvious pain, "I needed to say thank you."
"If I'm what it takes to save you're life, you'd better keep wanting to thank me." Lily couldn't believe that she was being glib about the fact that James could have died. She began to feel disgusted with herself, but the knot in her stomach unravelled itself when James' gaze caught her own.
"I'll never stop asking for you. Never."
And he never did.
A/N: So, here we are again, with yet another (not so little) ficlet! I must admit, I'm getting rather fond of them...
Let me know what you think : )
