September 4th, 1976: Lily Evans
By Friday afternoon, Lily was starting to accept that her resolve to keep her head down and James away might not be enough, but that was before she took her friends into account. She came so close to cracking in History of Magic yesterday, cooped up in there with him for an hour and a half straight—but just when she was tired enough to just face him already, Amelia Bones came to her rescue. "Give her space, Potter," she said, pausing in her diligent note-taking to shoot him a warning look, and when she glanced in Lily's direction and saw that her parchment was covered in doodles, she added, "I'll lend you my notes after class, Evans; we can walk down to dinner together."
Amelia Bones, of all people—Lily can already see her sitting on Wizengamot, and she's only sixteen. The Ravenclaw prefect not known for her kindness or leniency went out of her way to support and break rules for a girl she doesn't particularly know or like, and she stayed true to her word, walking Lily all the way to the Great Hall and duplicating three pages of notes with a flick of her wand.
Lily was grateful, but she didn't stay too long to thank her, in case Amelia did any of it out of pity. Whatever her motives, though, it made Lily realize that she doesn't have to do this on her own—and she's willing to bet that Marlene wouldn't mind a mutual favor right about now.
So Lily braves the weekend with a lot more confidence than she had just a few days ago. Breakfast is tricky, since the Gryffindor sixth years usually sit together, but Dirk Cresswell, bless him, asks Alice to eat with him and doesn't mind that she brings two tagalongs to the Ravenclaw table. Mary promises to talk to James with Emmeline, and she doesn't disappoint: by the end of the meal, Lily's not only gone a full hour without discussing any of the boys or the incident, but James does nothing more than look at her when she stops by the Gryffindors to ask Mary and Emmeline whether they're done eating. (They're not but promise to meet Lily up in the girls' dormitory.)
It's a safe haven, the dorm, because even after five years of living in the castle, none of the boys have been able to figure out how to get up their staircase. Lily's still a little embarrassed by what happened between herself and Mary on the train, and she want to know as much as Mary does how word got out that she was staying with Marlene last summer, but it doesn't matter here; it's just the five girls, a cat, and a Kneazle, and that's enough to make them forget the drama.
It hasn't been just the five of them since that day at Alice's, Lily realizes, looking around. There's a sense of déjà vu, almost—Mary's prattling on about how much she's starting to hate Pol Patil, to Alice's meek protests ("But Mare, if you'd just give him a chance and look past his wit…") and Marlene's bitter agreement ("He's such an arse that even Catchlove deserves better"). Emmeline and Lily aren't saying much; Emmeline's nose is buried in a Divination textbook, and Lily's preoccupied with the pets, Moonshine in her lap as she scratches behind Aquarius's ears.
The difference, though, is that Lily doesn't feel entirely out-of-place anymore: she's quiet with disinterest, not discomfort. If only everyone would stop looking at her every few seconds like she's about to break down…
She starts paying attention, if only so that Alice will stop looking so concerned. "Like, you should have heard him on the train. 'Careful not to sound callous, Mary,' this, and, 'Don't be daft, Diggory,' that," Mary's saying. "And he kept putting Greta down like she was inferior, and, like, acting like we're all horrid for wanting a bit of good gossip when he was doing it, too—no offense, Lily," she adds quickly, double a double-take as she looks at Lily, then again after she realizes Lily is actually looking back.
"None taken," Lily says. "Water under the bridge, right?"
"Right," agrees Mary, looking relieved. It bothers Lily more that Mary reminded her of the incident than that she was talking about her—which doesn't mean much to begin with, since Mary talks constantly about everyone, including her closest friends.
Alice hastily brings the conversation back to Pol. "All right, he can be a bit—a bit arrogant at times, but he's an interesting bloke to talk to if he'll give you a chance."
"I still think he's scum," Marlene says dryly. "What did Catchlove think of it?"
"She was… I don't know. You know how she likes to keep everything polite," shrugs Mary. "Ver's pretty nasty herself, too, but she's just, like, vulgar in general—Pol is only a berk if he thinks you're below him. I can't stand him."
Emmeline mutters, "He must have condescended you an awful lot." Mary fidgets, glaring at her.
Lily cuts in to calm things down. "You won't have to put up with him much, Mary. We only have Ancient Runes and Arithmancy with the Ravenclaws this year, and you don't even take Runes."
"Yeah, but, like, he's still in Arithmancy with me," says Mary, crossing her arms. "Who else is taking it? Us, Alice, Lupe…"
"I'll probably work with Amelia Bones; she told me yesterday that she's taking it, too, after History of Magic. Sorry, Mary," Lily apologizes, looking down.
Mary insists that Lily not feel guilty for having a partner before Marlene mentions, "Don't get too concerned, Mary. I heard Davies is enrolling again this year—you can work with her and cuss him out all period. Put in a bad word from me, yeah?"
Brightening, Mary nods. "It's not even until, like, Monday afternoon—there's the whole weekend before that. You all have any plans for today?"
They shake their heads. "You're lucky you don't have to take Potions. Slughorn already assigned an essay due next week," complains Marlene, beating her head against her trunk. They're sitting on the floor, for some reason—well, except Alice, who's lounging on her four-poster in an uncharacteristically casual stance. Marlene continues, "I started it with Sirius last night—oh, don't look at me like that, Lily, it was when you were in History," she says as Lily makes a mock-offended face at her.
"How was History of Magic?" asks Mary, lighting up. "It's just you, James, and Amelia Bones in there, right?"
"Surprisingly all right," Lily admits, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Amelia was brilliant; I didn't have to say a word to Potter, not that I can say the same for him."
Alice dangles her arms over the footboard of her bed. "Lily, why are you avoiding him? Why are you avoiding any of the blokes, for that matter?"
She closes her eyes and scratches Aquarius a little too hard, provoking an indignant meow. "I heard Lupin and Pettigrew, er, saying some stuff about me last July," Lily mutters.
"Two months ago," remarks Emmeline, flipping a page.
"It was bad, what they said," Lily says, sighing. "Not just your run-of-the-mill insults… and Black got in a fight with Potter for standing up for me after Potter told me. A physical fight—because he agreed with the other two, probably."
There's a pause as they all take this in—to the school's knowledge, James and Black have only fought once, during the aftermath of what Lily knows to have been Black's attempted attack on Severus, and that shocked everyone at the time. "And James?" prompts Mary eventually.
"He… was there," Lily says vaguely, waving her hand, half honest. "When I found out—you know." She keeps talking, faster now because she can tell that the girls all want to interrupt, even Emmeline. "He saw me like… and I don't want to talk about it, not with him, not with you—so let it go."
"Let her be," says Marlene sharply, and Lily smiles gratefully at her—she hasn't forgotten what it was like last summer. "Reckon we should get down to the Great Hall? It's almost lunch."
They traipse downstairs together—Lupin tries to wave them over to where the sixth year boys are seated near the hearth, but Marlene pushes the girls along swiftly toward the portrait hole, muttering deterrents under her breath. The other three aren't quite so supportive anymore that Lily's staying away from the boys, judging by their expressions, but no one objects.
After lunch, they part ways: Marlene, Alice, and Lily head to the library to work on the Potions essay, while Mary goes off in search for Reginald Cattermole and Emmeline resumes her Divination studies. The better part of the day has gone by before Marlene finishes, having had a head start yesterday afternoon; Lily shoos her away, insisting, "Go enjoy yourself; I don't need a nanny."
It's nearing curfew by the time Lily's done, a couple of hours after Alice wrapped up and left the library. She's not as satisfied with her research as she should be, but then, since the incident, she hasn't been able to concentrate on much of anything, so that's only to be expected. She's got to pull herself together: she can't afford to let her marks drop, she can't keep copying Amelia Bones's notes forever…
Angry with herself for letting her thoughts stray, Lily packs up and leaves in a hurry. She happens to glance out a window as she flies down the corridors—the moon is well into its first quarter.
That slows her down considerably.
She braces herself to look for James when she reaches the common room, making sure to drag out the walk up to Gryffindor Tower as long as she can. Cowardly though it may be, Lily's not ready to do this—she doesn't want to do this—and she's filled to the brim with anxiety by the time she gives the Fat Lady the password and looks around.
She spots him after only a moment—all eight other Gryffindors are together in a corner of the room. In the instant before she approaches them, Lily is stricken; it's like fifth year all over again, when she was the freak outcast with the Slytherin best mate and they were impenetrably close-knit. Looking at them from the outside, she sees them as the rest of the school does: the hard lines in Macdonald's face as she gossips, Abbott's smugness as she glances down at her prefect's badge every so often, the haughtiness with which McKinnon occasionally surveys the room's other occupants, Vance's disapproval of everyone around her as she makes the occasional disillusioning remark.
As for the boys… Pettigrew's smile is cruel as he laughs at whatever crude joke Black is telling, while Lupin's exasperation is softened by his visible closeness to them both, closeness unattainable by anyone not already in their circle. And James—
He's looking straight back at Lily, his mouth dangling open in surprise. He doesn't feel like the top student, the beloved Chaser, the bloke who tormented her best mate for five years, nor does he seem to want any of it. He's not arrogant; he's just James.
James.
Lily collects herself and briskly approaches him. They no longer intimidate her, even though they're together—it isn't fifth year anymore, and Lily knows now that they're better when you get to know them.
"Potter." They haven't broken eye contact since Lily met his eyes just outside the portrait hole, but none of the others realize she's there until she says his name. "Can I have a quick word?"
"Er—I mean, yeah, Lily, sure." He shrugs, bewildered, at Black and follows Lily's lead, not asking questions when she takes him up to the boys' dorm. The first thing she notices when she opens the door is the stench—then she reminds herself that she doesn't belong here and locks the door behind him to keep herself from looking around. "What's up?"
"The full moon—how soon?"
James freezes, gaping at her, and says after a beat, "Tuesday night. I thought—I thought you wouldn't want to, anymore."
"Are you daft? Do you honestly think I'm going to let you endanger your life just because…" she trails off, not wanting to mention it.
He leans casually against the door. "We've been over this. I'm not in danger, I'm an Ani—"
"An animal, yes. Human Transfiguration, I remember," she says impatiently. "And yet you still came to me covered in blood last July."
James says sheepishly, "That was an, er, isolated incident," and runs a hand through his hair. "Just because what?" It's Lily's turn to hesitate; she presses her lips together and feels her eyes widen. "You have to say it, Lily—just because what?"
She looks down, then darts to the door. "Potter, I can't," she says quickly. "I just—I'll see you on Tuesday night. I'll sleep in the common room; wake me up when you come back with Pettigrew and Black."
"Lily—"
xx
It's the last Lily sees of him for the weekend. She stays in the dorm all day Sunday—she can tell from the look on Mary's face that the rumors are going to fly, but she can't bring herself to care. Let them talk, so long as she doesn't have to see James Potter.
But Lily can't hide forever, and she finds herself staring at him all through Charms on Monday morning. Pettigrew and Mary dropped the class this year, so there's still an odd number of students—but unlike last year, Lily's not the odd one out anymore. Lupin squeezes himself at the same table as Black and James, and Lily partners Alice, since they're both at the top of this class. "I still don't see why you're avoiding him," Alice tells Lily as she flicks her wand. "It can't have been that bad, could it?"
"I told you, I don't want to talk to him yet," Lily says. "Confundo." The spell has no effect on the mouse on her desk—it runs straight through the mini-maze to the cheese, just as it's been doing for the past quarter-hour.
"Judging by the way he's been trying to get your attention all week, he's not embarrassed by it, and you shouldn't be, either," says Alice gently. She casts the charm; her mouse meanders off in the opposite direction of the cheese.
Lily sighs, shooting another look toward James's table—he's conversing with Lupin and Black in low whispers, but he glances at her, and she flushes. "Maybe he doesn't think it's something to get embarrassed about, but I don't need the reminder, all right? I just—need more time."
"Lily, it's been a month and a half; how much more time do you need? Here—try flicking a bit more sharply, that should help." The charm works when Lily takes her advice; why is it that she's failing to perform in one of her best subjects?
Cursing under her breath, she turns to face Alice again. "It's not like I'm putting my life on hold because of it; I just don't want to talk to one person," Lily sighs, exasperated.
"You were perfectly willing to talk to him on Saturday night—" Alice breaks off to reverse and repeat the charm "—after which you locked yourself in the dormitory for a full day and went back to ignoring him."
"I just wanted to ask him about this one thing," she generalizes, copying Alice's motions; to her relief, this time it works.
"What one thing?"
"I—er—" Lily hasn't yet thought this far ahead. "I asked him to start partnering me in Transfiguration this year so that I can maintain an E average."
Alice raises her eyebrows, leaning back in her seat. "You want to pair up with the bloke you're avoiding."
"It's not a big deal," Lily mumbles. "It's just for school—he stopped trying to make conversation in Potions and in History of Magic when he got the hint." She's kicking herself at this point: this means another conversation with James tonight, since Transfiguration is first thing tomorrow morning, to make sure he knows the story, and she doesn't even want to work with him to begin with.
Alice seems skeptical but doesn't ask any further questions, and Lily changes the subject to Alice's friendship with Dirk Cresswell and firmly keeps it there for the rest of class. She finds James again during the free period before lunch, bracing herself with the knowledge that he's not enrolled in her afternoon class, Arithmancy—it's easier today, because he's only with Black when she approaches him. "Potter," she says—lowering her voice because they're in the common room. "I'm partnering you in Transfiguration."
"What? But—Sirius and I always work together in Transfiguration." James looks utterly bemused; Black, surprisingly, is uncomfortably avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah, well, I told Alice that's why I wanted to talk to you yesterday, so unless you want everyone knowing about Lupin's—what do you call it? 'Furry little problem?'" This wins him over, and he nods slowly, staring openly at her.
Lily turns to leave, but Black stops her, reaching out to grab her forearm. "You meant it about helping us when we get back?"
"Just tell me the date every month, and I'll meet you in the common room," she confirms, tensing up—Lily still doesn't trust him after his fight with James.
He looks surprised by this but doesn't voice it, instead saying, "Then thank you. I know from James that you don't approve, and… thanks for everything." He pauses for so long that Lily starts to walk away again, only to hear, "And Evans—for what it's worth, I don't believe you'd ever reduce yourself to Dark Magic, even for your best friend."
This surprises her: what else could he and James have been fighting about? "Then why did you—?"
"Miscommunication with James. I thought he told you—something else. I trust you with this." It's James's turn to look awkward, so Lily doesn't push it—whatever it is, she doesn't want to know. "We'll see you?"
"Yeah—see you," she says, a little rattled, and she nods goodbye to James after a second's thought before departing.
The rest of the day passes unfortunately fast, including Arithmancy—Lily's only academic refuge from Potter. She made the mistake while he was staying at her house this summer—before the incident, that is—of sharing with him what classes she wanted to go on with in sixth year, so that he could take them alongside her (a move she's now regretting). Arithmancy was the only course she was continuing to take that he hadn't taken at the O.W.L. level and so couldn't share with her.
When she reflects on her performance in Arithmancy just before falling asleep, she can't decide whether she concentrated well because she'd come to something of a truce with James or because he hadn't been there.
Tuesday's daybreak gives Lily a rather hollow feeling in her stomach as soon as she remembers what she has to do: partner James in Transfiguration and heal both him and his friends after the full moon. The thought subdues her all through breakfast, and she hears the subsequent rumors on her way to class—Didn't she have a breakdown and shag James Potter in his dorm last Saturday? (She's beyond caring what her classmates think of her by now, but she still has the urge to make a snide remark when she hears this one from Veronica Smethley in the corridors.)
Needless to say, she's in a foul mood when she reaches McGonagall's classroom. Lily throws her books on a table in the middle of the room (a feeble attempt at compromise—she likes the front, James likes the back) and sulks at nothing in particular as the other girls trickle in, occasionally raising her hand in a wave when greeted. The boys come in last, and Lily notices that Lupin is looking paler than ever today before James sets his bag on the desktop next to hers and fumbles through it for his textbook. "Good morning, Lily."
She's not used to the awkward formality from him—where is the James who calls her Red, who flirts and teases inappropriately, who takes her on fake dates to Hogsmeade and tells her he wants to snog her while they're rowing on the stairs? She doesn't voice this, though, just answers with a quick "morning" and moodily drums her fingers on the desk.
If Lily thought that James was starting to get the hint not to talk to her, she was wrong. "Sleep well?" he asks, pulling his chair a little closer to hers.
She edges away. "Fine," she says—he doesn't need to know that she's afraid to go off the Dreamless Sleep Potion that she filled her summer buying from the Apothecary at Diagon Alley, or that Madam Pomfrey refuses to replenish her supply when she runs out a fortnight from now. "Ready for tonight?" she adds, quieter.
"Are you?" he says instead of answering. The conversation (if you can call it that) cuts off there as McGonagall arrives, closing the door with a snap and sweeping up to the front of the room.
"Open your textbooks to the chapter on Geminio, the Duplicating Spell…"
Lily takes diligent notes, determined to succeed with flying colors; the last thing she needs is to struggle to catch up in Transfiguration when she already needs extra practice in Charms and a long study session for History of Magic. After a half-hour of lecture, they try to replicate small objects—to Lily's short-lived delight, it only takes her ten minutes to get it right—then small animals, which poses more of a problem. James creates a perfect clone of his tortoise within minutes, while Lily's copies all seem to be missing shells. She doesn't have to ask him for help; he gives it unprompted. "Show me again," he says after another failed attempt, leaning in.
She swishes her wand gently upward before jabbing it sharply to the left, then down at the tortoise. "Geminio," she enunciates, only to produce another tortoise with no shell.
He pauses for thought as she Vanishes the clone, wringing her hands. "Your pronunciation is perfect," he compliments first, flashing her a small smile. "But try drawing out your swish a little longer, and aim for a smaller angle between your last two jabs—curve the flick to the left and down a bit in the middle."
She takes his advice—the shell dwarfs the tortoise itself. "Not that big of a curve," James laughs. He walks behind Lily and leans over her shoulder, grabbing her wand hand and tracing the motion through. "Geminio—like that."
After a moment of letting him linger over her, Lily pulls her hand out of his grasp and inches forward, enough that she can't feel his hot breath on her neck. "Thanks," she says, and when she casts it again, the resulting tortoise's shell fits just right.
"Practice that a few more times, just like that," advises James. "You're a fast learner, Lily."
"You're a good teacher," she mumbles, tripping over her words, and she's not entirely sure that he hears her.
The rest of the hour she spends conjuring and Vanishing tortoises and ignoring all of James's awkward stabs at conversation. Just when she think he's given it up—there's been a pause for at least five minutes—he says softly, "Just talk to me, Lily—about anything."
But the bell rings; she packs up and rejoins the girls without so much as a goodbye in his direction.
She spends the rest of the day fretting over the boys' health and trying not to show it. Emmeline is the only one to sense that something's wrong—and Marlene looks to have recognized Lily's subdued mood, but after living with her all summer, she knows not to acknowledge it. Either way, it's Emmeline who approaches Lily about it while she's studying in the common room after curfew; most of the students have gone up to bed, and it's just them and a few second years left.
She says calmly, thumbing through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six, "I had a funny chat with Margaret the other month."
Lily stops in the act of dipping her quill in ink. "Maggie?" Emmeline merely nods, saying nothing more. "Don't you dare repeat—"
"Oh, I won't," she assures Lily, laughing to herself. "But Margaret already did. Not all the details, of course, just that it was a car crash and that Marlene's uncle is now your legal guardian until you're of age, but I know you were—"
"Don't," Lily says firmly and resumes outlining the section on the Duplicating Spell in her Guide to Advanced Transfiguration with sloppier handwriting than before, if that's possible. Emmeline gives her a pensive look, then packs up her things, bids Lily goodnight, and heads up to the dorm; Lily shoots the spying second years a withering look and then reclines in her armchair, wearily closing her eyes.
At least she's learned who's responsible for the loss of privacy. Maggie McKinnon… she should have known…
Lily doesn't realize she's falling asleep until she's being prodded awake. Blearily, she sits up in the armchair and sees Pettigrew's face materialize in front of her, then sighs with relief—on his face and hands, at least, there isn't any blood. "She's awake," he says, a little more high-pitched than is normal for him, over his shoulder. "It's not that bad today; Sirius got a little banged up…"
"All right, let me see," Lily says groggily, reaching for her wand. A hand on her wrist stops her, though—it's James, smiling the first real smile he's directed toward her in a while.
"We should go up to the dorm first," he murmurs, tossing her something fluid feeling and silver. "Here—my Invisibility Cloak. Wear it up and down the stairs, just in case."
She fingers the silky fabric, then throws it over her head—nothing looks different, but then, she's the one under the Cloak. She follows them up the staircase and into their dormitory, shaking off the Cloak and crossing to the beds as James lights a few of the lamps. "Show me," Lily instructs Black again, sitting next to him on what she can only assume is his bed and blushing a bit as he strips down to his boxers.
Aside from the scars—she's reminded of her promise to James to reopen and properly heal them for all three boys—and a few minor cuts that a simple Episkey can fix, there are just two long gashes, one that zigzags across his stomach and another running along his inner thigh. "Open your knees," Lily tells him frankly, pulling out her wand (and whacking him lightly across the head with it because of the look on his face).
It only takes a few minutes: check for internal bleeding, stitch up the skin, press against the wound to ensure that it's healed properly, then repeat for his abdomen. Lily works in silence—James and Pettigrew retreat to what she can only assume are their respective beds—until Black hisses when she opens up a lengthy scar on his back. "I thought you were healing me, Evans, not cutting me open."
"Shut it, Black, I know that didn't hurt—I thought Potter told you, I'm opening back up all the wounds you three closed yourselves and healing you properly. Judging by the looks of your scars, they're at least a little uncomfortable," she tells him. "At least you had the sense to let the small ones heal on their own, from the looks of it. Episkey."
"Don't!" She glances up at him, startled. "I mean—leave the rest."
She hesitates for a minute, then asks with genuine confusion, "Why?"
Black blushes—Lily thought she'd never see the day—and Pettigrew answers for him with a snigger, "He thinks they make him look rugged."
"Rugged," she repeats, staring at Black with her mouth hanging open. "Rugged."
"I never—I didn't—it's my bloody body, Evans, stop violating me!" he cries, swatting Lily away as she points her wand at another scar.
She can't help but laugh by now as even his neck reddens, and she crosses to Pettigrew's bed (shielding her eyes as Black shamelessly drops his boxers and starts changing into pajamas). "Pettigrew, please tell me you're not fool enough to want to look rugged," Lily says dryly, and he just shakes his head, grinning, and takes off his own robes. She starts opening his cuts up and fails to suppress another blush—Lily can only take so many bare male torsos at a time.
It takes longer than she had expected to rid him of scars, and Lily realizes more with every Healing Charm she casts just how much they're all willing to do for their mate. She's still carrying a grudge against Lupin by the time she heads to James's bed, but even so, he's starting to look like a pretty good bloke if he's worth so many wounds.
James has already taken off his robes when Lily gets to his bed (she's not sure how much longer she can take this before her face physically starts to burn). She's done this with him before, so it's with some fluid familiarity that Lily runs her hands across his chest, back, and thighs, where most of the scarring resides. "You have nice hands," he tells her drowsily as she presses her hands against a newly smooth stretch of skin. "Don't know why you ever got interested in politics."
"I'm hoping that was a platonic compliment," she says severely, "but thank you. Episkey—I think that's it."
James sits back up and stretches, and Lily stands to go—only to be pulled into his lap and tightly embraced. She tries to wriggle away, but he murmurs in her ear, "Lily—we need to talk. Muffliato."
Even though the conversation is now private, she keeps trying to make it out of his arms. "Now?"
He reaches out to draw the hangings around them, and with the lamplight falling low in the room, they're almost—almost—thrown into darkness. "Yes. Ever since your parents—"
It's just thrown on her—the incident, all over again in spirit, right when she was starting to almost forget (because she hasn't been able to fully forget, not really)—and all of a sudden, she can't take it anymore. "You were fighting with Mum!" she breathes, even as she gives up and relaxes against him. "You were picking rows with someone you didn't even know and ought to have respected—"
"I don't respect people who put others down, especially you, Lily," James says earnestly, his own breathing shallow.
It's a little ironic, since he's always so eager to put Severus down—but then, now that she's not bound to him, she's a little less sympathetic to her ex-best. "Will you stop saying that?" she spits.
He blinks. "Saying what?"
"Will you stop saying my bloody name!?"
James is taken aback, but he recovers quickly. "Red, I didn't kill your mum, if that's what you've been thinking."
At least he's calling her Red again. "Because of you, she was on bad terms with me," she says weakly, burying her face in his bare chest so she won't have to face him. (She tries not to remember that she's in his bed after hours and he's half-naked.) "And I can't ever fix that. The last time I saw her, she was cross with me, and—"
He squeezes Lily's middle, pulling her closer. "The last time we saw her, she was cross with me, Red, not you," he implores. "I know you're going through hell right now—"
"Look, Potter, I don't want to talk about it, and I don't need your sympathy," she says, her voice muffled.
Something in her wants to take it back now that she's actually said it, but it's too late for that now, anyway. "It's not sympathy, it's—I thought we were getting to be mates, and then—"
"If you were my mate, I wouldn't have cut you off for a month and a half," Lily snaps. The effect is lost a little since she's wrapped up in his arms.
"Lily, you were crying in my arms for hours," he says slowly, and Lily struggles not to fight him on this—it has to come out sooner or later, she supposes. "You wouldn't even let me Floo to the Ministry to figure out your custody; I had to call Marlene to ask her to. It's lucky her uncle said he'd take you in, because a family that didn't know you would have had a coronary after you—"
Lily interrupts, because she doesn't think she can stand to hear it just yet. "I know, Potter," she mumbles, "I know."
They just sit for a while, James rocking her back and forth and running his fingers through her hair. "You can sleep here tonight, if you'd like," he proposes. She tilts her face up to look at him, and he smiles, brushing away a few red strands stuck to her face. "Remus's bed is empty, anyway; you can take it. Or I can, if you don't want to get up—"
"No, I—I have to get back to the dorm," Lily says quickly, not meeting his eyes. He tilts her chin up so she looks at him again, and she sighs and mumbles, "I, er, have to take my Dreamless Sleep Potion before I go to bed."
He gapes at her for a moment. "You're on Dreamless Sleep Potion? Did Madam Pomfrey approve that?" He can tell from her lack of a response what the answer is. "But Lily, you don't even need it—you were sleeping without it in the common room, weren't you?"
"But I wasn't really sleeping, I was more dozing," she protests meekly, resting her head on his chest again.
James isn't having any of it. "I know how hard this is for you, but it's been almost two months—you have to come off of it sometime, preferably sooner than later. So which bed do you want, his or mine?"
"Yours," Lily says against her better judgment, because unlike with Lupin, she knows James well enough that it doesn't feel wrong. He just nods and scoots out from under her, pulling out the covers and wrapping them around her. "I'm not five, Potter, you don't have to tuck me in at night," Lily scolds him gently, mostly to distract herself.
James smiles and hovers over her for a long moment. His breath tickles her nose and cheeks, reminding her of Transfiguration earlier today. "Mates?"
"Mates." She flushes scarlet but nods, ever so slowly, and all Lily can think about is how his pillows smell like every time he's ever rumpled up his hair and why doesn't it bother her anymore?
His smile widening, he leans in to press his warm forehead against hers, glasses nearly falling off his nose, close enough to—
And then he's gone, casting the countercharm to his earlier Muffliato and hopping into Lupin's four-poster.