Light Drizzle With a Chance of Apocalypse

or

Jesus D. Christ

Daisy.

I know I'm probably one of the last people you want to hear from. I know there's nothing I can say or do to make this whole thing better and that honestly makes me feel a bit desperate. But firstly, please don't be angry with Mary – it wasn't her fault. The niffler cuddle/attack thing was done on my behalf and so I really am to blame for the whole thing. She doesn't really understand the function of nifflers and meant it as a harmless prank. I hope you know that you weren't meant to be the target at all. That was a huge mistake that was borne of a huge mistake.

Secondly. About James. I understand how huge a hand I had in your split. You are such a wonderful person, Daisy, and I never wanted you to be hurt at all. I never even THOUGHT you would be hurt. I don't really know what I expected to happen… I really don't even know what I thought I was doing last year. I've got this terrible impetuousness where I feel something and then I act upon it. It's commonly known as "idiocy". You were on the receiving end of this idiocy far too often and that it culminated in you getting hurt so terribly both physically and emotionally is unforgivable.

This letter is completely inadequate and I know that. It's short and awkward and there's so much I want to say but it all means the same thing: sorry. I'd love to be able to talk to you at school sometime this year and apologise in person but I will understand if you don't want to talk to me because I don't think I would.

I want to stop saying sorry but I'm so darn sorry about everything that it's become compulsive.

Lily

The summer before Lily's seventh year often saw one Evans woman talking loudly over each other. Perhaps the term "yelling" was more apt, but, either way, talking or yelling, the little white house in Essex saw a lot of it that summer of 1976.

Today, the 30th of August, and as such packing day, it was mother and youngest daughter.

'Are you sure you have everything packed? I've got your —you know that black sheet that they make you wear as if you're popping off to Transylvania for the school year instead of Scotland? The ones that cost —'

'Enough with the cloak, geez —'

' —40 pounds! For a black sheet! They must make a mint on uniforms alone —'

'Mum?'

'I think it's ridiculous. Plus, when you wear it you're just begging to be burnt at the stake —'

'Mum!'

'I'm just saying! You don't want to be encouraging the stereotypes. Do they make you wear adhesive warts as well? Do you learn how to cackle correctly? And 40 pounds!'

This debate happened at least once a year. So to avoid hearing her mother go on about other bits of the uniform —'don't get me started on those hats!' —Lily took a long time recovering her trunk from the garage. When she returned, Patricia was sorting through the washing and Lily was relegated to folding. It took both of them sitting on the trunk to close it and they were both lightly sweaty at the end of the wrestle. Once finished, they had the distinct misfortune of discovering that they had forgotten to include all of Lily's knickers and socks, which were sitting now in plain sight in an innocent pile on the rug. They started again.

Halfway through the task Lily quite suddenly asked the question that had been weighing heavily on her mind since the end of term. Afraid of her mother's sadness, she had weighed it thoroughly, but she didn't actually know the answer and probably needed to.

'Mum.' She cleared her throat. 'I'm sorry to ask this, but… in a sentence, why did you and dad divorce?'

Pained surprise crossed Patricia's face, and Lily felt awful. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated quickly and softly. 'I just realised that I never really found out.'

Her mother quickly bolstered and waved away the apology. 'I was too much for your father.' Her brisk voice was fragility coated thickly in efficiency. 'Too loud, too ambitious, too bossy, too…' she gestured helplessly, slapping a pair of Lily's tights against her thigh, eyes far off, 'too much.' Then, suddenly brisk again, the lecturer with a PhD in Life Experience that resides not so secretly inside each mother stepped back onto the podium. 'Don't you ever shy away from someone because they're too much, Lily.'

'Too much for Dad?' Lily repeated in wonderment. 'But —I thought he always loved that you were loud and busy and he —he called you his —his topsy turvy temptress.' Her throat closed up on the last syllable. 'I hated that stupid name,' she gulped. 'It was bloody embarrassing.'

Hearing the catch in her daughter's voice, Patricia smiled with a pained sort of fondness. 'Well.' Dropping her eyes down to the pair of Petunia's gartered fishnet stockings which would have caused Lily some embarrassment had they accidentally wound up in her trunk, Patricia considered Lily's comment. Sideways, she shot her daughter a piercing look, obviously trying to decide what to say. Eventually she said, 'My mother —your grandmother —'

'I'm aware of how the system works, mum.'

'Don't get fresh with me, young lady. My dear old mum,' Patricia blinked her eyes rapidly and cleared her throat, 'she told me that it wasn't so much about me being too much for him —' she blinked again and coughed, 'as him feeling that he was too little for me. I think,' she laughed here, wiping under her eyes with a wry smile, 'that it was the most conviction he felt about anything: you know how I always said that he was the worst fence sitter in the world! Couldn't get him to give an opinion on anything, but he felt very, very deeply that he wasn't enough,' she gave the word a desperate heaviness, 'for me. And I —I didn't know until it was too late that I —I had the power to —to change the way he felt about that…'

Suffice to say that, sitting on a pile of her own undergarments in the middle of her bedroom stroking her sobbing mother's back, Evans daughter number two felt absolutely flabbergasted. 'It's n —' Lily had to clear her throat and take a deep breath. Even then her voice was shaking. 'It's not too late, mum. You can —you just tell him he's good enough.'

Petunia,

I love you, and I hate that you're angry at me, but this isn't a letter of apology.

I'm not tiptoeing around you anymore. I won't apologise for who I am anymore.

You have an awesome life lined up for you, Tuney. You're marrying the man you love, you've got great friends and your career is taking off. I'm so incredibly happy for you. I'm happy, too. I'm where I belong. I hope you can be happy for me because of that.

I had no intention of ruining your engagement party. Why would I? I had nothing to do with the stinkbombs and I tried so hard to keep Sirius away. In the end it was an accident that he did what he did. And I'm not going to apologise for Vernon. You should have told him. I'm sorry for the pain you're feeling over it, but it was in no part my fault. I love you and I wanted that party to be perfect for you. I tried so hard to make it that because I want you to be happy.

I'm not expecting to be best friends like when we were little. But I want a sister who loves me as much as I love her. I'm not going to keep apologising to you because I respect myself too much for that and it's not fair to me. I love you Tuney, so much it bloody hurts. Why does this have to be the end of everything? Please. I want to start again. And again and again if we have to.

Lily

The Hogwarts Express sat gleaming in a sea of smoke. For the last time, Lily heaved her trunks onto the humming train and checked the time. 10:47. She had said goodbye to her parents and left an envelope addressed to a cold and stiff Petunia on the kitchen table. She had pinned her badge to her lapel with shaking fingers. Seventh year had begun.

'Lil!'

She turned. Dorcas was waving at her from the middle of a group of sixth year Gryffindor girls who were admiring her French countryside tan. The girl pushed her way out of the hubbub and approached her friend.

'Your summer was obviously rubbish,' Lily remarked, grinning, as Dorcas drew near.

'It was glorious, Lil.' A very un-Dorcas-like smile appeared on the girl's face. 'The Fletcheys holiday in Germany and I managed to convince mum that she just needed to visit Cologne…'

'Aha!' Lily crowed. 'Cheeky, cheeky!'

'Dorky! Head Git!'

Alice and Emmeline were standing at the other end of the platform with a group of seventh year Gryffindors, waving frantically. James was among them, facing the other way. Dorcas followed Lily's gaze and grinned. 'What's news? Mary said she couldn't get any parchment at Diagon because you and Potty bought up —'

'Oh, shut up,' Lily scoffed, grinning back. They were almost upon their fellow Gryffindors now. Just as they were set upon by Alice, Emmeline and Sirius, Dorcas whispered in Lily's ear, 'Go for the cheek kiss.'

Nerves thrilling, Lily hugged her friends, pushed Sirius off her and slapped Remus on the back. Standing next to the carriage door with Lance Boot and Anthony Hopkins —trying to do something unspeakably cheeky to each other's private parts —James had turned and was now watching her, smiling. He nodded his head, once, eyes not leaving hers. Even the weeks and weeks of letter-writing were no match for just being near him. She took a deep breath and marched over. The nearer she got —she was closer now than necessary for the conventional greeting between friends —the wider his eyes got.

'Hello,' she said cheerfully, and then she braced her hands upon his forearms, went up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek.

Of course at that moment Lily wasn't focused on anything except James and the way his eyes were popping and his breath was coming more quickly, but Marlene, who had come over to the group just in time to witness the peck, said it had rather the same effect of a dog weeing on a fire hydrant.

In her eagerness to see him and speak to him Lily hadn't really noticed, but it had been over two months since the engagement party and he'd grown. There was the same smile and the same crinkle at the side of his eyes and that was what she noticed. But he had filled out again: he was at least half a foot taller, broader in shoulder again that he was last year, and comparatively leaner in hip and in long, wiry muscle. And other girls had noticed. It was well known now that he was single – his and Daisy's break up was already legendary —and he was Head Boy to boot. 'Quite the catch,' Marlene said later on. 'But that kiss… You marked him big time,' she laughed. 'You may as well have stamped "property of Lily Evans" across his forehead.' She shook her head. 'Whew. This is going to be a big year.'

The Head Girl had hoped to have a few days to settle in before encountering Daisy Abbott, but it was not to be. In fact, Lily literally ran over the blonde's foot with her trunk on the way from the horseless carriages.

'Merlin, I'm so sorry!' she exclaimed as Daisy winced. 'How is it that I'm always hurting you?' The words didn't have an ounce of comedy in them.

Daisy shook her head. 'It's okay. Don't —don't worry…' Then she just stood there, eyes somewhere around Lily's nobbly knees. If she were a hedgehog she would have curled into a ball. A couple of Daisy's Hufflepuff friends had paused up ahead and were watching the two girls curiously, but without malice. She hasn't made them hate me, Lily thought in wonderment. Calling that she'd join them later on, Daisy gestured that they continue without her.

'Daisy —' Lily began after a long pause. Students were streaming past them, eager to get into the Great Hall for the start of term feast. 'I'm so, so sorry. For everything.'

'Yes, I– I got that.' Was that humour in the other girl's tone? It was: Daisy was smiling. Just a tiny bit, but it was a smile. 'It's —' the girl tried to wave her hand nonchalantly and it only looked a little forced ' —it's okay, really. It's been three months. I'm over it.' Watching her, Lily noted that really, the girl did look okay. Not fantastic, but not fragile, either, as one usually looks after a nasty hospital bedside split. This didn't lessen Lily's guilt at all, though and Daisy noticed this.

'Really,' she exhaled, rubbing her forehead. 'It wasn't even really your fault.' In response to Lily's flabbergasted expression, she continued, 'I know you don't believe me, but… Look.' Daisy frowned, knuckles tightening on the handle of trunk. 'I've had a bit of time to think and I really should have seen it from the start. James was never ever fully invested. He was a good boyfriend, really,' she amended, smiling in a small way, 'but I knew somehow that he'd never really be with me. And I knew…' She took a deep breath and Lily saw with shock that Daisy looked… guilty? How is that possible? 'Even before we started going out… I knew that you had changed your opinion about him. I knew it was only a matter of time. But you know how you can convince yourself out of the most logical things? I had liked him for a little while and when he agreed to go out with me I just… I ignored my instincts.'

Lily felt a bit like gravity had suddenly stopped working. This was not at all what she had expected. It must have shown on her face, because Daisy met Lily's eyes for the first time. 'The last few months… he wasn't really with me, Lily. And for a five and a bit month relationship,' she laughed without humour, 'that's a rather long time. By the time we broke up I was so reconciled to it that I didn't even feel it that badly. I mean —it was bad, don't get me wrong, but I'm happier now than I was when I was with him and I think that says a lot about the whole thing.

'And look,' here Daisy's voice took on a stronger tone than anyone had probably ever heard in it and she frowned, 'I'm not saying all of this to make you feel better.' The girl pinned her victim with a sharp look that Lily didn't believe she had ever seen painted on a Botticelli angel's face before. 'It's for me. I just want to move on from the whole thing, you know? And if I'm hung up being angry at you, I'm not moving on. So,' she nodded deeply, 'I accept your apology. Really.'

Stunned speechless, Lily's mouth was gaping a bit like she was a whale trawling for plankton. Daisy didn't quite grin, but the shape her mouth made was nearly a grin. 'It's a bit to take in. But, really. It's over.' Then she gave one last little impersonal smile, turned, and resumed rolling her trunk up the drive.

'The Messiah has come again,' Lily stated loudly, flopping onto Marlene's bed at about seven thirty. 'In case you want to say hello, he's using the name "Daisy Abbott".'

From the bed adjacent, Dorcas yawned, 'what rot are you talking, Lil?' She had, as was custom, eaten far too much at the incredible feast; always incredible to temper the bitter sadness of the new school year. Both she and Emmeline were flat on their backs, digesting. Alice was with Frank, somewhere, Mary was humming in the bathroom and Marlene was unpacking her trunk by the foot of her bed. There were only five beds in the dormitory now, Lily noted with a little pang of sadness.

Most of the sixth years ignored the Head Girl's dramatics, but Marlene said ponderously, 'I thought we would have gotten a bit more warning about the Second Coming. Fire in the sky, or something.' She looked towards the window and frowned. 'All we've gotten is a light drizzle.'

As with the start of last year, Change was running rampant through the castle. Wanted: Change, preferably dead. Please, someone catch the little bastard, Lily thought. 5 Galleon reward. Wait, no —I owe Emmeline. 3 Galleon reward.

Mary, of course, was profoundly different. She still had all the fundamental Mary bits, but all shaken up and moved slightly to the left. She was quieter and more given to somberness this year. Emmeline and Dorcas had joined Alice in the world of happy relationships and their time was quite absorbed by the darn things. Marlene was the same as always, probably because just by being Marlene she was above and beyond fickle things like Time and Change.

We always come back to school as new people, Lily noted, not with bitterness, but with that slightly uncomfortable feeling that always comes with unexpected change.

And James. Well. Lily couldn't quite put her finger on the developments there. All she knew was that each time she looked at him she liked him more. And more. Her chest was soon bursting with the feeling.

'This is how it must feel to have a cardiac arrest,' she commented to Alice at lunchtime three weeks into term after he had sat at the table a few places up from them. 'My feet are all twitchy and I'm fidgeting like mad and my heart is just —feel that —' she pulled Alice's hand across and sat it on her chest ' —is that healthy? It might be a psychotic episode. Or a cardi —could I have a cardiac arrest? I could have a predisposition, you know; my uncle Marvin had one last year… but that was after several energy drinks and a roller coaster, so I'm not sure…'

Seventh year was setting itself up to be maddeningly wonderful. In the Head's dormitory James and Lily's doors were across from each other. Across from each other. Granted, neither could actually get inside the other's room, but still, to wake in the middle of the night and realise that James Potter was sleeping twelve steps away (of course she hadn't counted, that would be sad) was maddening and wonderful in every sense.

It was maddening when he sat next to her in the prefect meeting, eyes crinkling at the corners because of something stupid she had said and she couldn't reach out and squeeze his hand. They would walk back from the meeting, laughing and stumbling through the corridors, stiffening comically when they came across other curfew breakers and adopting responsible voices. It was beyond frustrating when she passed him in the corridor on the way to Charms one day and he lit up and whispered huskily in her ear as he brushed past, 'you have loo paper stuck to your trousers,' because she couldn't run after him and kiss the stupid smirk off his face like she wanted to.

Around James Lilly couldn't help but laugh more loudly; smile more widely; talk more animatedly. It was only superlatives when he was with her. It had only ever been. She was always the angriest, the highest, the funniest, the most confused, the most indecisive, the happiest she felt she would ever be when she was with him. It was qlaringly obvious to everyone that she had it bad for James Potter, but she couldn't seem to rein herself in. She didn't even want to. It was maddening.

But it was wonderful, because despite all of this, she didn't care. Never had Lily so enjoyed another's company. The best and brightest parts of her day were spent with him.

Any time spent with him was time well spent. She even looked forward to writing patrol rosters. That, if anything, marked how thoroughly gone she was. They'd commune in the shared Heads' lounge on a Tuesday evening; Lily would bring the stationary and James would supply brain food. One day, after an incredible spread, she coerced him into revealing his supplier. Where in Hogwarts did one get fresh bacon sandwiches, scalloped potatoes and lemon meringue pie for a study-time snack? Fifth year Lily would have developed a hernia over the very notion of an eleven o'clock jaunt down to the kitchens, but seventh year Lily ran, laughing, alongside James Potter, ate an incredible amount of roast beef, chips and gravy and became best friends with a House Elf named Moddy.

It was super. Uber. Ultra. All superlatives.

The most tragic and frustrating and maddening thing was that he felt the same. On a Tuesday morning she walked into Arithmancy fifteen minutes late, having just dropped the patrol logs off to McGonagall. The class looked around as the door opened, but none as quickly as James Potter. Previously half-dozing in his seat, head on arms, the Marauder's head shot off his desk in Lily's direction and his face lit up so fast that titters ran through the classroom. Suddenly he looked so awake, so glad and so vivified for seeing her that Lily paused, rocked, in the doorway.

It was all superlatives for him too.

And he wouldn't go out with her.

At about four o'clock on the fifth Wednesday of the term, Lily came out of the lovely en suite that she shared with zero other people. Not yet quite used to the luxury of her own bathroom, she had just showered for the second time that day and sang very loudly and badly for the most of it. There was still two hours until dinner, so she had plans to crack out some Charms study. After quickly toweling dry and dressing, she was at her door, shoes on and book bag slung over shoulder.

A hand was on the doorknob when she heard voices just outside.

'Is Lilith here?' It was Sirius's voice.

It wouldn't have been anything to stick her head out and announce her presence, but for some reason Lily froze behind the door and listened.

'Nope,' came James' voice in a muttered reply. 'I called —no answer. Must be in the library. And isn't Lilith the queen of demons, or something?'

Ignoring that, Sirius asked, 'Why would she be there?' in a tone that sounded as if James had said 'mortuary' instead of 'library'.

'She studies there.'

Through the door, Sirius made a noise that sounded like he was dying. 'In the library? That has never made sense to me, let alone now!' he exclaimed. 'Look at this place! Look at all this room! Why would she do —' His voice stopped short. 'Ah.'

Lily, ear now pressed to the door, could almost hear a grin forming on his face. Even though she wasn't part of the conversation, her face started heating.

'You don't study together.'

'Well, that's obvious. If she studies in the library and I study in here, we clearly don't study together.'

'No,' Sirius's voice was impatient, 'I mean you can't study together.'

James didn't reply for a while. Maybe he was speaking too quietly for Lily to hear. Face flaming red, she glanced quickly around the room for a cup; a bowl; anything. There was an empty pot of hand cream on her bedside table. Trying to keep an ear on the door, she fumbled for her wand.

'Would you still be studying in here if she was? Hmm?' James must have given some gesture in answer, because Sirius continued smugly, 'I thought so. You'd run like the… what's the saying? You'd run like… Well, you'd run really fast. Outta here.'

Finally locating her wand —it had slipped out of the waistband of her skirt and into her stockings —Lily strained to hear James's reply.

'I don't… I can't focus when she's here. And N.E. are coming up…'

'N.E. ?' Sirius scoffed. 'Bull. Shit. That's not the reason.' There were a few seconds of silence. 'Why won't you go out with her, mate?'

Lily could hear her own heart beating.

Again James said nothing. Wand in hand, she whispered, 'Accio hand cream,' as quietly as possible, and grabbed hastily as it came hurtling toward her. 'Audi clamorem,' she whispered, and then, with a quick flip, pressed the rim of the empty container to the door and her ear to the cool, plastic bottom.

'I just don't get it.' Sirius was still talking, but now she could hear it as if he was standing next to her. 'This is what you've wanted for years,' he said, 'and she's clearly changed, mate. Why are you waiting?' She could imagine him aimlessly doing laps around the room as the Head Boy attempted to study. There was a pause. 'Don't you want to anymore?'

As she waited for an answer, Lily felt her blood turning to dry ice in her veins.

Finally James said. 'That's ridiculous.' His voice was gruff. 'It's all I want. Lily Evans…' he trailed off and Lily could just see him shaking his head. The way he said her name set her legs all a-quiver. 'She's all I bloody want, mate.' Lightheaded, she pressed the container more firmly to her ear. 'I just —I'm not —'

'You're scared,' Sirius said, and for once he didn't sound like he was laughing.

There was a deep sigh that could have come from either of them. Then James exhaled, 'Yep.' There was a cavernous pause. So this is how guys talk, Lily realised, frustrated. How many times had she wanted to be in on a boy-chat? It's actually seventy five per cent silence.

Then, suddenly animated, James's voice picked up, loud in her ear. 'It's like —imagine someone offered you fifty million galleons. No strings attached. And they're —they're on your rival Quidditch team and they've repeatedly kicked your arse, season after season.' Lily winced. 'And then they offer you this money. You know they've had a change of heart —hundred per cent sure —' that's positive, thought Lily, clutching desperately at her hand cream container ' —but you're scared anyway. You'd be mad not to be wary, right?'

'Right,' Sirius replied slowly. His voice was at once light and heavy —light in tone; heavy in meaning —when he next said, 'And then the chance passes and you miss out on fifty million.'

Another long silence followed that epic proclamation. Lily was giddy with love for Sirius and was finding it hard to refrain from jumping up and down on the spot. Did we just become best friends? Yep.

But Sirius being Sirius didn't stay serious for long. 'Speaking of the lovely Lilykins and fifty million galleons —' here a deviously amused tone crept into his voice ' —Froggarty hinted that there'd be quite a bit going for her Charms notes, what with N.E. coming up...'

Cro Magnon Froggarty? Unforgivable Umbrella Froggarty? Aghast, Lily clutched her notes to her chest. Sirius actually doesn't have a conscience.

'Are you mad?' James laughed behind the door. 'She would castrate you, put your nuts into a dehydrator and sell them in China as an alternative medicine. That's a threat out of her own mouth.'

Lily nearly had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing. That had been a good one. Then James said, 'You can't get in there. Won't get a foot over the door.' The laugh died in her throat. What is he talking about? It became pretty apparent when Sirius spoke again. 'Couldn't hurt to take a look.'

He was right outside her door, inches away from her.

Through the charm she had put on the hand cream his voice was so close and so loud that she leapt back, dropped the container and made a noise that sounded like a pig being strangled.

And there was no chance they hadn't heard that.

'Evans?'

There was silence for a full ten seconds.

'Is that Lily?' James's voice was getting closer. 'Lil?'

'What? No —n —she's not —I'm not —I mean —'

'That's clearly you, Evans.' Sirius's voice was flat. 'Unless you've got a small talking pig in there.'

Lily had curled into a ball on the end of her bed; head covered like it was the London Blitz. I could just stay here. They can't get in. But Sirius would probably set up shop outside the door. And she hadn't yet set up her own emergency hamper, so she'd probably starve. Feeling genuinely ill, she straightened. Very slowly, she walked to the door.

'Now,' she began shakily, pressing her fingertips into the cool barrier and staring at the whorls in the wood. 'I hope we can talk about this —'

'Get out here.'

Frowning, Lily stared the doorknob. That was very rude. She frowned more deeply.

'Evans. I will blow the door in if I —'

Now that is not on. She flung the door open, glaring. 'Don't you talk to me like that,' she began with vitriol, glaring into Sirius's annoyed face. She trailed off when she saw James standing a few yards behind: 'thank you… very much…'

His eyes were wide and he was red. As red as she had ever seen him.

'You heard all of that,' he muttered.

Wordlessly —and this was probably the most sensitive and thoughtful thing he had ever done —Sirius turned, picked up his pullover and book bag from the couch and left the room. It's funny, some part of Lily's brain wondered vaguely, that the most sensitive and thoughtful thing Sirius can do is leave a room.

The Heads' communal space was smallish, so although James was standing on one side and Lily on the other, if they each took four steps inward they'd meet in the middle. The silence was absolute. They stood, faces red, staring at each other.

Here again. Bloody heckin' hell.

Lily didn't know why, but this moment had a sense of finality about it. I've got to make it count, she thought desperately. But with slow, painful clarity it came upon her that there was nothing else she could really do. He knows I'm sorry. He just said as much. It's not me; it's him.

James had to decide.

The silence was solidifying around them like setting plaster. It had to be shaken off. Clearing her throat, Lily said the first thing that came to her head.

'I really like you.'

She paused, feeling her face heat even further. It didn't matter, though. 'I really like you.'

James's only response to the statement was to look even more at a loss. His fingers were white where they gripped his wand. He swallowed.

He looked so vulnerable right there; so unlike what everyone else saw of him, and Lily wanted so desperately and powerfully in that moment to be the only one who saw that. She wanted to tell him everything. 'I like you so much that when you walk into the room I immediately need to do a nervous pee.' James smiled a startled sort of smile and she kept going, bolstered. 'And my stomach begins to eat itself —you know how it feels when you're hungry? —I feel like that when I see you, which is why I'm blaming you for the six pounds I've put on in the last year.'

This got a laugh out of him, and the laugh was so James and so lovely that Lily just couldn't hold her feelings in. 'I —I really, really want to be with you. I want to laugh with you and hold your hand and talk to you, and I know that you're scared, but I feel so much and I know you feel something as well…' she trailed off, a little embarrassed by how needy this was all coming off. James didn't look embarrassed, though. He looked like he was developing a brain tumour.

And then the frequently silent Ghost of Wisdom that hangs at the back of all teenage minds whispered to Lily.

He's doubting himself, Lil, it said. You've got to show him.

Nudged forward by the ghost, who sounded suspiciously like her mother, Lily moved away from her door. Show him what? she asked it a little wildly.

He's telling himself what he's not. Tell him what he is.

Lily moved her eyes up to James's wary face. She took a deep breath. 'You're clever,' she told him quietly. His eyes widened in surprise. 'You're kind and loyal. You're talented in so many areas and you're really, really good with people. You're the rare kind of guy who girls like Daisy Abbott deserve —' James shook his head, eyes darting around the room as crippling self-effacement took a hold. But Lily moved around the table and grabbed his chin firmly. 'Yes, you are,' she told him severely. 'You are- you are a genuinely good person. You're just good. I have so much respect for you th —that it's actually intimidating.'

Despite her hand on his chin, his eyes were fixed on anything but her. You could never take a compliment, she thought. She dropped the hand and stared up at him.

'And I'm really sorry about everything,' she said lamely. 'You're right to be wary, but there's nothing more I can do. It's up to you. You're going to have to choose.' She cleared her throat again. 'Is it worth the risk?' Her voice was thin. 'You got —you've got safety or a possible fifty million.'

In television shows, the Great Moments of Truth have dramatic music and unshed tears trembling on damsels' eyelids and you can't stop watching for anyone. But Lily couldn't watch as James Potter decided. It didn't take long. As soon as she looked away his gaze was heavy on her; almost a physical weight. When he took a step closer to her, the movement lifted her head like a marionette.

Something had resolved in his eyes. It was as if the shards of colour in them were bits of a puzzle and the last one had suddenly clicked. She could see it in his face: the verdict was in. The realisation set her heart and all of her other vital organs racing up her oesophagus.

'Ask me again,' he said. His face was indecipherable.

'Pardon?' Lily shifted where she stood, thrown off kilter. 'What —is it worth the risk?'

'Not that one. The other question. You haven't asked it today.' There was a crinkle at the corner of his eyes. 'Ask me. One more time.'

Oh. A disbelieving smile started on Lily's face. One more time? She swallowed. 'You're pushing it.'

'Ask me.' His voice was firm.

'Hogsmeade, you, me, hubba hubba?'

'That wasn't proper. You've got to do it properly.'

'You're needy today. Alright.' Heart racing, she took a deep breath and knelt down, taking his left hand in her own. Grinning giddily up into his face, she asked for about the forty-seventh time, 'James Potter, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?'

And, grinning back, he said, 'Heck yes, Lily Evans.'