To Just Forget the World

by xXxVioletSkyxXx

Lily reached down, her hands spanning his chest, and his breath caught unconsciously. "Don't start something you're not willing to finish," James said under his breath, his eyes closing outside of his control. His control on the situation was waning and he struggled to remain still, to not adjust. Because what was she expecting? Was she going to- were they going to-

14. When the Morning Comes

You can run away

Take everything you own

And be gone before the rising sun

Hop in your car, turn the radio on

Singing songs like we were singing along

And when the morning comes, you'll be so far gone

Wish I would've got the chance to say

That if you never come back, I just want you to know

I'm gonna love you either way

-Rising Sun, Prince of Spain

...

It was long after dark by the time Sirius and Lily made their way back to the castle, the bottle of Firewhiskey noticeably emptier to what it had been when Sirius first arrived. They walked in the moonlight arm in arm, stumbling slightly with broad smiles on their faces. The main entrance to the castle was locked, and they giggled their way through more than one attempt of Alohomora before concluding that they wouldn't be able to enter the way they came. Sirius held a finger up to his lips and took her by the hand, leading her down behind some ivy and beneath a stone bridge. The door was rusty, but after a few shoves, it gave way.

"Where does this lead?"

"The Entrance Hall," Sirius said, lighting his wand tip.

"Are you sure?" Lily asked, and Sirius nodded, walking slowly down the corridor. Lily wasn't drunk, but she was certainly buzzed, buzzed enough not to notice the muddy footprints between their own, nor the scuffling sounds of movement just up ahead.

The torches along the wall extinguished at once, and the corridor fell into darkness— in desperation, Lily looked back towards the door they entered, but there was no differentiating between the seemingly endless black. A hand gripped her own, and Sirius' face— dim in the wand light— looked down on her with a hard determination. Lily lit her wand, and together they took several brave steps into the darkness.

Something small skittered between their feet, and Lily screamed. Sirius tugged her into a run. Her feet pounded against the rough stone underfoot, and the hand that held Sirius' clenched in fear. How long was the corridor? Their wands cast ghoulish shadows onto the walls, the light jumping as they ran. Was there someone there? Watching them in the dark?

Her mind raced, it wasn't that late, and this couldn't be that secret of an entrance, being as close to the castle's front door. Anyone with any wit at all would've known it was there, and evidently, somebody did. Sobriety hit Lily like a cold shower. Fear ran through her like water. Someone was there; someone was watching them, waiting for them. A figure loomed in the darkness, and both Lily's and Sirius' pointed their wands towards them. But something was off, not quite right. They walked together, and as they approached, Sirius kept his wand raised, not quite believing his eyes.

His eyes were wild, and the hem of his robes caked with mud. He was muttering to himself, apparently not aware that Sirius and Lily were not even six feet away.

"Sir?" Lily said bravely, taking another step towards him. "Mr. Crouch? Are you alright?"

Crouch made a sudden movement towards them, and Sirius pushed Lily behind him almost instinctually and raised his wand, pointing it at Crouch's chest.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius said in a slow, deadly voice.

"Can't find them, need to find them, need to warn them!" Crouch said quickly, and when he looked up, his eyes were wild and unfocused. Lily had only seen him with crisp robes and a neat moustache, but this was a man who hadn't changed in days, his clothes were torn and unkempt, and when he looked at them, it was as if he was looking past them, trying to see something or someone that was no longer there.

"Are you them?" Crouch continued, pointing his wand above Sirius' shoulder. "Where have they gone?"

"Where has who gone?" Lily said from under Sirius" arm. "Mr. Crouch, who are you looking for?"

"Dumbledore—," Crouch said madly, pulling at his hair with both of his hands. "Dumbledore needs to know! The Minister needs to be warned!"

"Lower your wand," Sirius said firmly, pushing Lily behind him before taking a step forward. "Lower your wand, and we can talk,"

Crouch turned faster than Lily thought possible, but Sirius was faster, casting a nonverbal hex to Crouch's form, and then a full-body bind for good measure. His body fell with a thick crack against the stones, and Sirius stayed only long enough to take Lily's hand in his and run.

They ran faster than Lily had run in ages, in a panic, and all thoughts other than that of the moment fled before they could form. Sirius was taller than her, and he ran a half-step ahead while Lily leant forward and sprinted to catch up. Her breath was thick in her throat, and her mind swirled with questions. What had Crouch been doing there? Who was he looking for? What had happened to leave him in that state?

"We need to—need to find Dumbledore," Lily gasped.

"He's gone!" Sirius said, "in London, he left this afternoon, we've been watching the map,"

"He could've been down there for days, Sirius!" Lily said, trying to slow down, but Sirius tugged her hand forward back into a run.

"We need to get out of here," Sirius said quickly. "If something had happened, we can't be seen here,"

Up ahead, the darkness lessened, and a door appeared. Sirius wrenched the iron handle, and they popped out of the corridor behind a tapestry and into the Entrance Hall. She stood for a moment, hands on her knees to catch her breath as Sirius closed and locked the door behind him. She took several unsteady breaths, her mind racing and eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the brightness of the hall.

It was late enough that the room was deserted, but once he had cast three or four wards on the door, Sirius took off towards the marble staircase, and Lily ran after him.

Lily didn't know where Sirius was going, but she ran after him nonetheless, up staircases and down corridors and through hidden passageways to the top floors of the castle. His steps were sure enough that she knew his intended destination even if he didn't share it with her. Twice, they ducked behind corners as Aurors and Prefects did their rounds. The moonlight was thin, and Sirius and Lily dodged in the shadows without arousing suspicion.

Once they turned the corner on the sixth floor, Lily stopped in confusion before Sirius led her to her front door.

"In you go," he said needlessly, gesturing to the doorknob.

"Sirius, we need to tell somebody!" she said, attempting to belay the heaving of her chest with a stern expression.

"No, you need not to get caught," Sirius said, turning her shoulders towards the doorway. "I trust you can manage from here,"

Lily pursed her lips. "You're not going to tell a soul, are you?"

"Go to bed, Evans," he said, already taking a step in the opposite direction.

The door opened, and James appeared in the doorway with a look of relief on his face. He looked between Lily and Sirius, seemingly unable to make a connection between the two of them.

"Where have you been?" he exclaimed, albeit quieter than he usually would have. "It's been hours!"

"Where have we been, Sirius?" Lily asked, and James' eyes caught Sirius' with a stern expression. "What have we been up to?"

"She's drunk, take her to bed," Sirius said with a backward wave of his hand, and James looked down at her in confusion.

"What happened?" James exclaimed, running his hands up and down Lily's arms in concern. "Why have you been running?"

"We found Barty Crouch in the—in the corridor off the Entrance Hall when the castle doors were locked. He's mad, babbling on about something. I got her out of there and armed the door. We trapped him in there; we can deal with it in the morning,"

"You found—why the hell is Barty Crouch in there? What happened to him?"

"Beats me," Sirius said with a shrug, "Goodnight,"

Sirius turned down the corridor and walked out of sight, and James sighed as Lily walked under his arm into their dormitory.

"Lily, you were gone for so long!" James exclaimed, running his hand along his jaw in delayed panic. "Remus has the map, and I couldn't find him, and you were missing!"

"Sirius was missing too," said Lily with a yawn. "God, I'm knackered."

"What were you doing out there?" he asked as she sat on the edge of the sofa.

"He needed cheering up, so I found him and—and I kept him company,"

"That was—uh, that was nice of you,"

"Frankly, it should've been you," Lily said, pulling off her boots and lining them up by the hearth to dry before catching his eye. "He needed you,"

"I wondered where he went," James said, sitting down on the sofa, which gave unexpectedly and sent him for a lurch. "For God's sake, if they can give us such a posh dormitory, the least they can do is protect them against certain death,"

Lily pulled off her jumper and sat down beside him, more gently than he had. She leant forward, elbows on her knees. "You'd think,"

"Barty Crouch, eh?" James said, "are you sure he won't get out? What state was he in?"

"He was terrifying," Lily said. "Sirius pushed me behind him, and I don't know what he was going to do, but he wasn't aiming to injure."

James sighed, leaning forward on his knees. He looked over at her as if looking for injuries, but she didn't have any. For all she knew, Sirius might have saved her life.

"I'm sorry for what I said today," James said.

"Good," Lily said, and he turned away, smiling. "No, I mean it, I'm not leaving you. No matter what you say,"

"I'm not leaving you, either," James said. "I mean unless you want me to, but then you can bet your last Galleon I'm not going without a fight."

"But that doesn't mean you're off the hook with Sirius," Lily said, "you need to apologize to him,"

"I will, I promise," James said. "Right after we capture a deranged Ministry official, good God,"

They sat in silence for a minute, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. Now that Lily's breath had slowed, she looked exhausted— like all the energy had drained out of her. But he couldn't go to sleep without telling her, without explaining it to her.

"And what you said about Snape—," James began and sighed before meeting her eye and continuing. "Earlier, I didn't mean it, all the times I hexed him and bothered him, I didn't think, I never meant for that to hurt you,"

"Thank you for saying so,"

James pulled his wand out of his robes and added another burst of flame to the dying fire, trying as hard as he could to mask the insane racing of his heart, the feelings of sheer stupidity into landing where he was in the first place. How the hell did he find himself here, at midnight with Lily Evans talking about Snape and Sirius? He shifted himself towards her, and she leant into his arms, comfortable with him — with how close they had grown to one another.

She played with the end of her braid, shifting against him in a way that made him increasingly aware of the proximity between the two of them. All of this touching had had effects on him, and he wasn't about to embarrass her, or worse, stop her talking.

"He ended our friendship with what he did," Lily continued, apparently oblivious to his plight. She was blunt; there was no indecision in her. This was a decision she wasn't waffling with. "I never want to talk to him again."

James considered this, playing absently with the button on his sleeve. He paused, about to speak, but stopped himself before a sound left his mouth. Lily seemed contemplative, and for the first time in his life, he offered comfort without aid, empathy without action. She didn't need a flaming sword in the night; she needed someone to listen without judgement and hold her when she cried.

"Snape is a Death Eater," Lily said quietly, her hands shaking before she pulled them into fists. "I know that now. When he had the chance, he chose Voldemort over Dumbledore, and he's never coming back."

She took James' hand and held them in both of her own, resting the whole of herself into his arms. He pulled her tight as she sobbed, rubbing the back of her neck, kissing her forehead, murmuring soothing little nothings into her ear.

"Sometimes, I thought that you preferred Snape over me," James said quietly. "That you were in love with him and are just humouring me. I hate that you loved him,"

Lily sniffed and wiped her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was a little over a whisper. "I never loved him," she said. "Sometimes I thought I did, but I loved him like a friend in the end. And a friend doesn't ask the things of me he did; friends don't call you—call you—,"

"I don't blame you," James said quickly, not wanting to hear her say it. "I had no idea he meant so much to you; I was teasing him for no reason whatsoever. Because I could, I guess, or because I thought others expected it of me. Nobody had ever tried to stop me before, no one had told me that what I was doing was objectionable, or somehow worse than what he was doing, but it was. I was such an idiot."

"Yes, you were," Lily said, and James laughed. "No, I mean it! You were an irritating shithead of a human being, and I am so glad that that James Potter is dead for good."

"Me too," James said, straightening his legs out and wiggling his toes in front of the fire. "And this is nice, isn't it? Being able to air our feelings without fighting?"

"And to think," Lily said sardonically, wiping her tears away. "Maybe one day we'll be able to without me crying too,"

"You can cry all you like," James said, ruffling the top of her hair. She giggled, leaning back into him, and the distinctly male part of him puffed up at the thought that he could make Lily Evans giggle, make her laugh when she was upset. He loved it.

She sat up straighter and smiled in his direction, "I'm going to change, I've been in this skirt for far too long. I'll only be a minute."

James watched as she walked down to her bedroom and turned to face the fire with a smile. This was everything he had wished they could have together; they could tell each other things, be honest and talk things through. Their garden was nearly perfectly rosy, if not for this business with Crouch. He was only supposed to be at Hogwarts for a fortnight, but had he been here all along? What was he doing in there all alone? Muttering in the dark? And where had Sirius gone? Hadn't he better chase after him? Rouse the other Marauders and find McGonagall? Wasn't that more important than talking about Snape?

But a selfish part of him disagreed; she was more important. Her feelings towards her sister and Snape and whomever else was more important than some pompous Ministry official. Maybe not to the greater good Dumbledore had told him about, but to him, certainly.

Lily's door creaked open, and she appeared in her nightie with a dressing gown around her shoulders. She sat beside him with a smile before reaching for the coffee table, lifting parchment and open books to produce a book, which she handed to him. "Can you read to me?"

James grinned, taking the battered copy of Robinson Crusoe from her hands as she settled back into his arms. "If you'd like me to,"

"I would; I haven't read that one in ages,"

James kissed the top of her head, his mind racing. "Then I think we had better start at the beginning, shouldn't we?"

He made a show of turning to the first page in the old book and relit the candles that hovered around the Common Room. The glow was soft, the light flickering high shadows on the ceiling and walls. Lily tucked herself into his side, and he began reading. "I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York, from whence he had married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson…,"

James played with her hair as he read, enunciating different voices for her amusement. She was calm and relaxed, her body soft against his own and smiled as he read to her; one chapter and then another. His voice was steady and amusing, but it was late, and he was warm and the sofa comfortable and when his voice stopped suddenly she stirred.

"James?"

She heard a rustling as he set his book on the side table. "I'm just putting the book away; I can read more tomorrow if you'd like,"

"I would," she said, closing her eyes with a smile. "Thank you, that was wonderful. No one's read to me in a long time. I liked it,"

She relaxed against him as he turned back towards her. They had been sleeping together in his bed for a few weeks, but he couldn't get over the feeling of her in his arms.

She made no move to rise, and he lay still beneath her as she drifted off to sleep, a loose smile on her lips.

Asleep, she looked younger than she did awake. The frown she wore most days evaporated in sleep, and the little creases around her eyes and mouth relaxed into a soft expression. James kissed her carefully, brushing her hair away from her forehead, and smiled as she wrapped an arm around him in her sleep. As comfortable as she looked, she'd be happier in bed. But he moved slowly so not to wake her, inch by inch he rose and then took her in his arms, carefully nestling her head against his neck. He pushed open the door with his foot and lay her down on his bed.

She looked so peaceful, with her curling hair and white nightgown, she looked almost ethereal in the moonlight. James tucked her into his sheets, pulling the comforter up over her, and if he wasn't mistaken, she wasn't quite asleep. Her eyes were closed in a way that would suggest as such, but once he released her, she tucked in on herself and was too tight to suggest it.

James pulled in beside her, nudging her hand with his own. "Lils?"

She didn't respond, and he looked at her with a quiet smile as she curled up all hair and bedsheets. The decent thing to do would be to get his clothes out of his chifforobe and change into his pyjamas in the loo. But a quiet part of him liked the thought that if she was to wake up, was to open her eyes, she'd see him. See him and Merlin would she like what she saw?

The light was dim; he reasoned with himself as he slipped his cardigan off and started on his buttons. Even if she were to wake up, she wouldn't see much. The moon was still low in the sky, and the clouds hid the majority of the light. And a secret part of his heart lifted, because even if she was to see, wouldn't he do it anyway?

He shed his shirt and tie, hanging both over the chair in his bedroom with his eyes fixed on her. His shoes were next, kicked off into a corner along with his socks. He shed his trousers slowly, mindful of the rustle of clothing he stepped out of them with care.

He was bare except for his pants, and he walked slowly to the chifforobe to find his pyjama bottoms, not quite daring to bare it all in front of her. Not yet, at least not without her watching—not without her aware of what was happening.

He snuck off to the loo to brush his teeth, and upon returning, she had shifted, turned towards him in a way that made him blush. She wasn't exposed, per se, but her nightgown had shifted its strap, and a whole expanse of creamy freckled skin, and Merlin the swell of her breasts as she breathed became suddenly almost too much for him to bear. She was asleep; he chastised himself. Asleep and trusting him not to muck things up. With resolve, he tucked himself in gingerly beside her, his heart beating a mile a minute. She stirred and flipped about to tuck herself into his side. He kissed her forehead and, in minutes, was fast asleep.

...

The morning dawned with calm, stillness and rustling sheets. For the first time in over a year, James had slept through the night, the whole night with no interruptions. Back when they were in the process of becoming Animagi, James had justified his restlessness with the lack of sleep. Lack of answers. But as he grew older—and the fawn Prongs grew into a stag— it became even more apparent that something else was at play. There was something different, something not altogether separated from his anxiety and feelings of growing helplessness. He knew that Voldemort was coming for them; deep down, he supposed that he had known for years.

There was something sinister about the way he had attacked Hogsmeade, the matter in which he had struck any number of places in the past couple of years. And wasn't James just as vulnerable as the rest? He was seventeen; he had a family, friends, blood traitors and Muggle supporters the lot of them. He was Head Boy, (he didn't suppose this mattered to Voldemort, but it was there, nonetheless), had taunted and teased Death Eater sympathizers the whole time he was at school. He was best mates with Sirius, and hadn't his parents taken him in? The war was coming; today or next year, it made no difference. The war was coming, and he had never been more vulnerable. The thoughts of Sirius clouded his otherwise happy morning, and he frowned at the thought.

But Lily was here; she had stayed through the night. When he was with her, all the unhappy thoughts of the night before seemed to dissipate. He was a notoriously restless sleeper, but things were different now that she slept all these nights in his arms. He could pull her close, breathe her in, kiss her neck, and in his dreams, the four posts of his bed were a shield against the world. Nothing could happen to them there; he could protect her from Voldemort and the Death Eaters if she slept in his arms.

He knew it wasn't true, but when the door was locked and the curtains were drawn, he could imagine it was—a thousand little locks to protect Lily Evans from the world.

The first time he did it, it was an accident. It must've happened in his sleep, a powerful shield charm on his bedroom door, and he had damned the sticky hinges to high heaven until he remembered, and he sank against the doorframe in sudden realization. Lily had given him a look he wouldn't quickly forget. A sort of sadness, sympathy. She had kissed him deeply, and taken his hand, waving the charm away without a second thought.

After that night, he put the charms on the door every night almost automatically, one after another in the same sequence. It was a shame of innocence that he knew so many. Lily sat huddled on his bed; sheets pulled all around her. During the daytime hours, the threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters felt distant, far off. The stone walls of the castle and the charms of protection on the gate gave him and the others a sense of security they couldn't put into words.

Dumbledore appeared more regularly, winking at him from the high table towards his bench at the Gryffindor table reminded him painfully of the task Dumbledore had given him. It had been some time since Amelia's attack, and the rumours surrounding the event had been passed over for more recent gossip. Amelia was shaken, there was no mistaking the way she turned suddenly without warning or the habit of walking in pairs or groups of three moving throughout the castle. It was like an itch under his skin, a feeling of misgivings and confusion that he couldn't shake. What business had an Auror as reputable as Moody attacking a student? What reasons had he? Was it leftover nerves? An itchy wand hand? But in the weeks previous, neither he nor Crouch had appeared at meals or in the corridors during the day. The Aurors who patrolled were changed regularly, never the same pair twice. He supposed it was for everyone's good that they were there, but what was their business with Amelia?

In the nights just after her attack, he lay awake for longer than he should have, running every variation of Amelia's kidnapping through his mind. She was alone, just past midnight in the Charms corridor. What was she doing there? Their homework with Flitwick couldn't have been pressing enough to ask him so long after dark. Was she looking for something? Somebody? Why had she not told Alice or Marlene where she was going? It wasn't in her nature to be secretive. But whatever had her take to the dark castle that night was as much a mystery to Amelia as it was to anybody else. She had no recollection of the night, and her report to Dumbledore the morning after the attack contained more questions than answers. He supposed that they might never know what happened that night, but—

His heart thumped madly in his chest. Had they considered? No, it was unlikely, and unorthodox for that matter. They wouldn't have tried Veritaserum. Or legilimency. Both were invasive and questionable interrogation techniques, not to mention slightly illegal without consent. But wouldn't she consent? Didn't she want to know the nature of what had happened to her as much as anyone?

Lily lay sleeping quietly, undisturbed by the rapid thoughts chasing one another in James' mind. They had an answer!

Part of an answer, he thought with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his forehead deep in thought. Legilimency was a tricky skill and very personal. Not many would like another digging about in their thoughts and memories. But if he could learn, wouldn't she rather have her past examined by a friend and not a stranger?

James knew that Regulus was a noted legilimens, he should ask Sirius—

No, he couldn't, he thought with a shake of his head. He couldn't, and he knew it. Sirius didn't want to hear from him. He had made that abundantly clear. Moreover, even if he could get through to Sirius, he knew that Sirius wouldn't ask Regulus for him, or anybody else. They had a complicated and distant relationship. More so, he knew, on Sirius' side than Regulus'. Sirius had left home at sixteen, and other than passing one another in the hallway, they hadn't spoken since. And not only that, Sirius was supposedly taking care of the business with Crouch and didn't want to hear from him anyway.

James wiped a hand over his eyes, deep in thought, but smiled quietly at the sight of Lily curled up against him. Her nightgown rested somewhere above her hips, and the feeling of her bare legs rubbing against his own was euphoric. Her hair hid her face, but the sun shone sunflowers into his bed, reddish and golden. Her arms snaked around his neck as she stirred in her sleep, stretching her body out the full length of his own. He kissed her neck and nuzzled her nose with his own. She stirred again, and he kissed her.

"It's late," she murmured, "too late?"

"For school, nah," James said, reaching down to kiss her neck. "We've still ten minutes before we're late for the first period,"

"James!" Lily said, sitting upright in bed. "Ten minutes? I have to get ready!"

"How long does that take?" James said, but she was already out of the sheets and through the door. He could hear her muttering down the hall, pulling things out of her wardrobe with haste.

"All you have to do is pull on the same thing you wear every day," James said, following her to her bedroom and leaning against her doorframe. She waved her hand dismissively, head buried in her wardrobe. "Come on, come back to bed,"

She stumbled about the room, bumping her hip against her bed frame with a hiss of pain as she struggled into stockings. Her room was a disaster, James thought fondly, her things tossed all over. Her school tie was half-buried in her trunk, the neat letters LRE embossed into the side of the trunk. It was the only neat thing about it; the rest was a scattered cacophony of Muggle stickers, signatures, names of bands he didn't know, scratches and dents from the many travels from Kings Cross. She reached with both hands for the hem of her nightgown before she realized he was standing in the doorway and looked over with wide eyes.

"James!" She exclaimed, dropping the hem in a flash. "I'm dressing!"

"I noticed, believe it or not,"

She rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushing suddenly. "Care to give me some privacy?"

"Lily, I've seen you in your knickers before," James said, pretending not to notice how fast his heart was racing. He swallowed suddenly, aware of what he said. "I mean—,"

"I'm not wearing knickers," she hissed, her face flushed. "Close the door!"

"You're not—,"

"James! I need to get dressed!"

The door slammed in his face, and he couldn't help but listen as fabric rustled from behind the wood. Was she undressing? Why couldn't he see? Was she still not comfortable with him?

How was this any different than when they were in bed? Did she not remember the way she had laid beside him, sleeping in his arms? Were their moments of intimacy condemned to stay in the nighttime hours? James rubbed a hand over his face and pressed his ear to the door, wishing that someday he'd be allowed to undress her the way he had always wanted to, to pull that nightgown over her shoulders and just touch.

"You can come in now," Lily said a minute later. He opened it slowly, but Lily was already very nearly dressed and was tying her tie impatiently. She just managed it before she flipped her skirt front to back to do up the buttons.

"Shit!" she said, her hair hanging in front of her eyes, blocking her vision. "I'm going to be so late,"

"Stop," James said, resting his hands on her shoulders as she slumped with an exhale. "Hey, slow down. Stay still for a minute, I'll plait, and you can dress, and then brush your teeth. How's that sound?"

"Thanks, James," she said quietly, suddenly very aware of his presence so close behind her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and did up her skirt, walking with him to the loo with measured steps. How was this different than any other time? She thought. If you didn't want him to see you starkers, you should've been more prepared.

But wasn't she prepared? Hadn't she thought that it was time, just the night before, to take things to the next step? Her face warmed as she remembered him coming in the night before, looking for signs of her alertness before undressing? Hadn't she watched through slits as he unbuttoned his school shirt, slipped off his tie? Hadn't her breath caught as she watched him pull down his trousers, seen his bare chest and legs exposed for her eyes only? Hadn't she watched him last night? Watched as he watched her?

And who was she kidding? Hadn't she enjoyed it?

The night before was hazy; she had been hopped up on adrenaline and fear before sinking into sleep. But her choice of pyjamas had been intentional, a new silky nightie she adored. And at the last moment, hadn't she kicked off her knickers and settled for a night of reading anticipating him? Hadn't she brushed her hair and said her prayers and waited in anticipation of him finding her like that? She rubbed her legs together in thoughts of him, noticing her like this, perhaps as he pulled the sheets back when he returned? What would he do? What would he say? Would he care? Would it matter to him at all that she had been blatantly risqué on his behalf?

But it hadn't mattered, the moment was lost.

She pulled her toothbrush out of the little cup by the sink and stood still as he pulled her brush off of her vanity. Lily tried not to watch as he pulled the brush through her hair almost reverently, gently pulling one section through the bristles after another. She squeezed the toothpaste tube harder than she meant to as his hip bumped up against hers, pinning her to the sink. Quite pleasantly so, Lily thought with a shock. More pleasantly than she thought it would be.

Her breath caught in her throat as his breath tickled the little hairs at the back of her neck. She looked up in the mirror; he wore the same concentrated face as he had yesterday, eyes fixed on his task.

"I had a thought last night," James said, his eyes fixed on hers through the mirror.

"Oh?" she said, attempting to take the breathiness out of her voice, trying for a cooler tone. "Oh?"

"About Amelia," he said, tying her plait with a hair tie around his wrist. "We could try Legilimency,"

Lily's mind swirled with possibilities, but also disappointment. Business it would be. But she couldn't deny, as frustrated she was at the current turn of events thatLegilimency might be the answer to all their questions. It had risks, though— it was invasive, personal. She knew Amelia wouldn't appreciate someone picking through her memories, but it was tempting. Such an easy solution and just within reach.

"I wonder," Lily began, "I mean—or, we could try Veritaserum. It's notoriously tricky though,"

"I thought much the same," James said, reaching past her for a hair ribbon to secure her plait. "If we're going to get to the bottom of it, we may as well explore every avenue,"

"I'd rather the potion than mind-reading," Lily said, replacing her toothbrush in the cabinet. "And I'm sure Amelia would too,"

James looked down and smiled, taking her hand. "We'd better hurry, you ready?"

"James, you're still in your pants. I'm the one who's ready for a change,"

"Right you are, Evans," James said, reaching for the knob. "I won't be a minute,"