And They Were Flying

At some point after five o'clock on an unusually bright evening in October – Halloween, to be precise – Lily Evans staggered into the seventh year Gryffindor girls' dormitory.

Closer to six, nearly an hour later, silence descended over the little party huddled around Dorcas's bed. Lily sat, pale and wilted, in the circle of her friends.

Sombrely kneeling at the foot of the bed, Emmeline had come back from her date with Vance halfway through the story. Then she had been glowing with cold and rapture. Now there was hand clasped over her mouth and a look of pain on her face; she was reading Petunia's letter. Everyone had looked like that, except for Alice and Mary: Alice had burst into tears and Mary had shouted in anger, ground her teeth and then burst into tears.

'At least Astrid didn't choose to leave me,' the latter had then sobbed quite tactlessly, but Lily understood, and felt her friend's empathy as it had been meant. Mary seemed to understand better than any of the others the loss that Lily felt.

I love you incredibly.

I'm sorry that it's not enough.

Our lives are so utterly different.

I can't see how they are supposed to correlate any more…

She had been going from angry to numb in a cyclical manner. It felt like her insides were scooped out and she had been made half empty, and then the cavity left behind would occasionally fill with flames.

You're about to start building a life

in a world that I

can never

even

touch.

Loud and quick, Lily said, 'It's alright. I'll be alright soon.' Please know that I love you and that I am sorry. She ran her hands across her forehead. I hope I haven't wasted your time. 'It's fine.' Have you realised that this isn't what you wanted? 'I'll be alright soon.'

'No you won't.'

Marlene's reply was straight and no-nonsense as always, but it held a warmth that didn't often cushion the impact of her words. 'You will not be alright, not at this rate.' She was sitting up and straightening her back. 'Now that we've all made moan quite thoroughly —'

A chorus of shocked indignation interrupted the brunette's brisk comment, and hands up in defence, a sheepish looking Marlene acknowledged, 'That came out a little more harshly than I intended. What I meant was that wallowing isn't going to achieve anything —'

An outcry more incensed than the last met this. Fists flailed, pillows were thrown and Marlene had to seek shelter beneath the four-poster. Mary rolled onto her stomach and roared underneath the bed, 'It's been half an hour, you soulless bastard,' with fire in her eyes.

'Yes, I know,' came Marlene's level agreement from below them, 'but Lily?'

Lily had to clear her throat. 'Yes?'

'What's got a better chance of making you happy: thinking about what you've lost, or fixing what you haven't?'

As Mary muttered stormily, 'who are you; Confucius?' James's face appeared so strongly behind Lily's eyelids that she forgot to respond. The hope in his eyes this morning when he had first seen her… His bleak, empty face at the table in the Hogs Head…

I hope I haven't wasted your time.

Was it still fixable?

As if Marlene was able to hear her friend's thoughts, a voice floated up to Lily from underneath the bed. 'If you give him the chance to hold on, proper-like, I don't think he'll ever choose to let go.'

There was silence for a moment. Then Lily sat up.

'What's the time?'

'Six thirty, I'd say. Closer to seven.' Dorcas was watching Lily worriedly. 'What are you going to do?'

Lifting her hands to her cheeks Lily made to brush away tears, but there were none. 'I —' she sucked in a deep breath ' —I'm going to see James.'

Silence met that declaration. Then the other girls looked around at each other to make sure they all agreed that it was a terrible idea. And then Marlene said with absolute firmness, 'No, sir; not in this state, you're not.'

'Not a chance!' Emmeline agreed, appalled, 'Do you actually want to do more damage to this poor relationship?'

'Go to sleep,' Dorcas suggested. 'You'll be more rational in the morning.'

Mary nodded fervently. 'You've got to sleep on these things.'

'I have to!' Lily wailed, angry at the opposition. Alice and Dorcas were crowding her anxiously. Marlene stood, frowning, hands on hips, as the redhead moaned, 'whose side are you on, anyway? I can't leave it!' Emmeline was waddling back and forth between the beds like a crab, arms out to stop Lily's escape. Mary was bouncing in agitation on the quilt. 'You've got to help me, you lot! There's no way he'll trust me, ever…'

'She's raving,' either Emmeline or Marlene muttered. 'Someone tranquilise her.'

'Shall I?' either Emmeline or Marlene replied.

'Intervention!' yelled Mary, swiping the tears from her cheeks. 'Intervention!' She seized the letter in two determined hands and glared at it like it was Petunia herself.

'This is for your own good, Evans.' Emmeline's voice was firm. Everyone was up and moving and Lily didn't see the wand descend until it was too late. A familiar fast-creeping silver fog was moving towards her and she scrambled away from it. 'No, no, you idiots —I need to —I've got —'

'We're your friends. Please,' Dorcas's looming shape whispered, 'please trust us.'

'It's delicate,' Lily could hear herself mumbling as the blissful fog of sleep rolled over her. 'Be careful, all of you. It's delicate...'

Ten hours later Lily swerved upwards, suddenly acutely awake.

'He was up before me.'

Sirius made the unpolished wood of the bench he reclined on look elegant. He was lounging so gracefully that it made Lily angry. 'That's supremely unhelpful,' she scoffed, reaching over and messing up his hair in an attempt to make him look unpleasant. 'Of course James was up before you. You're the personification of sloth.'

'Well, yes,' Sirius conceded, a slow grin blooming through the curtain of hair Lily had created. 'Slothful I may be, Lilianus, but I am certainly not unhelpful.'

'Why?' She could almost feel her ears pricking. 'What, Sirius, tell me —don't drag this out —'

Waving an easy hand, the Marauder said loudly, 'I actually can't be bothered taunting you. The saga must end.' His eyebrows rose dramatically and he paused for a beat, enjoying the tension. Then: 'Prongs was gone when I woke up… and so was his Quidditch gear.' Sirius spread his hands in a benevolent gesture and gave Lily a saintly look. 'Do with that information what you will.'

Head pounding, Lily stood up. 'Sirius. Whatever I have ever said that was mean to you, I take back.' She paused. 'Except for everything that was actually true. Which is most of it.'

'We all know I'm perfect: don't yarp on about it,' he yawned, grinning. 'Anyway, move along. Methinks you've got a Snitch to catch.'

Winter had been quick to stake its claim on Hogwarts. The first of November was feeling more like early January to Lily as she made her solitary trek across the silver-frosted lawns to the Quidditch pitch. It was bloody cold. But she was warm. In fact, it was quite possible that she was boiling over with excitement. And terror. One part excitement to nine parts terror.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. She glanced up. Oh man. Look down. Hands tentative and trembling, she unlatched the gate into the pitch.

The equipment room looked the same as it had six years ago… the last time Lily had ridden a broomstick. All of the brooms seemed identical to her, so after a moment's nervous deliberation she grabbed the smallest, safest-looking one with shaking hands and, heart in her throat, marched onto the pitch. Hagrid kept it well: the grass, now crusted in ice, was green and level, and the three hoops at either end shone in the winter sun. And, several thousand metres above the far left goalpost —probably about twenty, but Lily wasn't rational when it came to heights —James Potter was flying.

Somehow that little scarlet dot in the grey clouds managed to fill the entirety of her vision. It was all she saw as she mounted the broom, tested her weight upon the painfully thin stick of wood and gingerly kicked off the ground. Several of her vital organs took a trip up her oesophagus as her feet left the turf, but she kept her mouth shut and her eyes narrowed upon the back of the lone chaser. The broom was old and it seemed to sense that its rider wasn't all that confident. It putt-putted upwards in a gentle incline.

Good broom.

Unfortunately when Lily gave the handle a squeeze of appreciation, it was interpreted as a 'giddy up'. Old though it was, the broom rocketed upwards —at a gentle ten kilometres per hour, but Lily didn't know that —and suddenly all of the purpose that had possessed her fled like an exorcised demon.

'Uh —no —James —!'

'Lily —?'

'James —how do I —uhhh! Shit, shit —I'm —'

'Pull upwards —pull up, quick —'

Lily wrenched at the handle and came to a jarring halt.

The sound of her heartbeat filled her ears like a snare drum as the dratted broomstick hummed comfortably beneath her. The hoops of the goalposts were only a few metres away. She was quite high up. Oh Merlin. So high. Oh my– Bloody hell. Her chest heaved and she was sure for a moment that she would vomit. Okay, okay, okay, just don't look down. Don't look down. Look at anything, just don't look down. Look up, look up, look up. Swallowing madly, she aimed her chin upwards. Look at —oh…

Still a good ten metres higher than her, James was staring down with a look of pure incredulity on his face. The scarlet of his Quidditch uniform lit up the grey clouds like a second sun. Against the pale sky his face looked abnormally bright; all flushed cheeks, wide, clear eyes and a vertical mess of wind-combed hair. 'Wha —' His breath puffed in a pearly cloud of shock between ruddy, chapped lips. 'Lil —can you even —are you alright? I didn't —I thought you couldn't fly —'

'Don't you panic or I'll start panicking again,' she gasped, eyes trained firmly again on the handle of her broom. 'I don't enjoy flying,' she corrected him in a wobbly voice. 'I'm alright at it as long as my feet are close to the ground.' There was a pause, then she amended faintly, 'As long as my feet are on the ground.'

'Lil —' he barked a shocked laugh ' —quick, let's get down —'

'Don't make me move yet,' she groaned. 'I —erghh —just stay, please, I just need to —whoa —get used to it —'

'You're mad. You're so mad.'

As Lily chanced a look upward again, James ran both his hands through his hair and her stomach lurched. 'Both hands on the broom,' she gasped. 'Both hands on the broom.'

There was a laugh and a soft swooping noise from above. Then: 'Here.' James's voice was sudden, warm and reassuring in her left ear. Breath catching in her throat, she watched his face, full of amused affection, as it supervised the movements of his hands. He had one of them on her broomstick and in the other he had his wand, drawing a glowing line between their two brooms. It was very interesting, but after a few moments of adjustment Lily found she was more interested in that wonderfully familiar face and how, when she looked at it, the panic that had taken residence in her chest just... went. All she wanted was to put her hands on his face and his neck and his chest and his back and his arms and hold him and squeeze him and have him against her… But that would require taking her hands off the broomstick, which, no matter how relaxed she felt in his presence, really wasn't going to happen.

'Alright,' James huffed quietly after a moment. The air that carried the word from his mouth touched her neck in a shiver. He looked up, straight at her, and in the clear light she could see her own eyes reflected in the gold of his. 'Trust me now,' he muttered. Slowly he straightened and, even more slowly, let go of her broom. For a moment she floated away behind him and panic stirred in her gut, but he was holding her with his bright eyes. When she was about a metre away she stopped as if at the end of a leash. A taut glowing line connected the top of her broom to the tail of his. Broom and rider bobbed peacefully like a buoy.

'This is a dink,' James explained while she breathed heavily. 'You can only go where I go, and I'm not likely to fall off.' For some reason he was grinning and Lily didn't trust it for a second.

'What is it?' she pushed after a second, when her heart had ceased doing hurdles. 'Come on, what's the joke?'

He shrugged, shooting her a covertly impish look. 'It's not a joke… just, well… dinks are normally used as muscle therapy for old people when they're too frail to fly themselves.'

'Oh, ha ha.' Restraining a surprised grin herself, Lily nervously stretched her cramped legs out and readjusted her death grip on the handle.

'I can get you some training handles as well, if you'd like…'

'Alright, that's enough from you.'

As James chuckled, Lily steeled herself. Trembling slightly, she looked up from the broom handle and out at the grounds. The breath left her lungs in a whoosh. It was incredible: the morning sun, gentle though it was in its winter incarnation, glittered on the crystal fringed lawns. A soft fog blurred the edges of the castle, turning it into Maleficent's castle, or a dark Camelot. It was beautiful from the ground, but to have it laid out before her; to be above it all; well… she could understand James's addiction.

They had lapsed into peaceful silence and Lily hadn't noticed.

'It's something else, isn't it?'

Torso swivelled uncomfortably, James was bobbing a metre or so in front, watching her with a small smile on his face. They were still connected by a wavering chain of soft light. The distance between them wasn't great, but neither could reach and touch the other.

Lily nodded. Her heart had begun to pound double time. The panic had receded and she had remembered.

I have to tell him. The date… the letter…

She wasn't sure what her face looked like right now, but it changed the look on his face. The small smile shifted into a sad look.

'James —' she began, but he shook his head and her throat closed. The groan of old, splintering wood issued from under the vice grip of her hands. He's going to tell me it's too late. I've screwed it up too many times. We can be friends, but he can't trust me like that anymore.

'I read the letter.'

She looked up sharply, mouth dropping open.

Somehow James managed to combine sheepish, apologetic and heartbroken into a single facial expression. 'Petunia's letter. Marlene gave me it.'

The reply was faint and delayed. 'Marlene gave you the letter?'

'Well, she gave it to me first.' Lily's eyes widened and James elaborated wryly: 'Alice and Mary followed about half an hour later with another copy. And then,' he frowned uncomfortably here, 'Emmeline levitated herself outside the boys' dorm window and read it aloud as I put on my pyjamas.' Lily's throat independently issued a small noise of astonishment. 'Dorcas had some moral issues to get over…' James frowned, scratching his head. 'Something… something about your freedom to remain silent or something… so she only gave me a copy this morning. For such a tight group you seriously have some problems with communication.'

There was silence for a moment. Neither of them laughed.

'So…' Lily cleared her throat. 'So you've definitely read it, then.'

Eyeing her warily, James nodded. 'Quite thoroughly. Haven't read the original —' no, that was still burning a hole in Lily's bedside table ' —but my four copies were all the same. Mary had decorated hers with pictures of toilets and cowpats, but...'

James trailed off, and she knew that he was watching her. She stared down at her hands. 'The worst thing about it is…' she clenched her fists and swallowed, once; twice, 'I understand. I know exactly what she's talking about; it's not some figment of her imagination. And I know that I couldn't have done anything.' She tipped her head back and looked directly at the sun. 'I can't exactly quit being a witch, but the letter makes sense. It's… it's actually the truth.'

'Well… maybe. Some parts.' James sounded like he was humouring her. 'But the bullshit about her having to choose between you and the leviathan?'

'Yeah, well…' Lily exhaled heavily. Her eyes fixed blankly on the castle, on the lights winking steadily in the windows of the Great Hall. They fell into silence again. It must have been an odd sight: fifty, sixty metres above the Quidditch pitch, the Head students hung in the grey of the early morning, suspended on faithful sticks of wood in a semi-Arctic wind. Just hanging out like normal mates… Up in the sky… Really, really high up... No, wait, don't think about that! Oh Merlin... She swallowed and quickly diverted her mind. Word association, go: Sky... ground... brown... James's eyes... beautiful... look at him... Merlin, I just wanna…

Then something clicked. James was watching her, smiling, and he didn't look angry. He didn't look resigned. He's read the letter. Lily had known it already, but now it took on a different meaning. A bright, incredible meaning. James has read the letter. An uncanny lightness took a sudden hold of her insides.

'So you know, then… about yesterday.' She took a shallow breath and the freezing air tasted like hope. Her gloveless fingers were now a lovely shade of violet. She didn't quite care. 'You know why it was… why I was such a mess.'

James's shoulders were tense. It was obvious he was remembering the scene in the Hogs Head. The chilling finality of it all.

'You know, right?' Her voice was taut with the question. There was still a good fifty metres of clear nothing between her and the ground, and even though she knew she couldn't touch him, she leant forward. Just get closer. Her eyes flicked across his face, searching for any distress or uncertainty. 'You've got to know that I'm not going to backpedal. This is what I want. That's why I– why I went on the bloody date even though I probably shouldn't have —' James widened his eyes theatrically but Lily impatiently ploughed over the possibility of a joke '–because I'm tired of things coming between us —and… I'm...'

Words failed her, even though there were a thousand of them jostling for position on her tongue. They wouldn't arrange themselves, so Lily shook her head; inhaled the sharp air through her nose.

'James.'

His name seemed to hold every word.

For a few long moments the name fluttered between them like an uncaught Snitch. There was no reply. Instead, James was squinting at her. Then he sat up straighter. 'Oh.' When she frowned and squinted back, his eyes widened in reply. 'You've finished? That was short.'

Lily's eyes widened in turn. 'You cheeky arse!'

'No offence?' came the pitiful offering.

'You're supposed to say that before the offensive thing, so that I can save face by pretending not to be offended!'

A shocking grin bloomed suddenly on James's face. 'Alright, well... sorry.' He sucked in a deep breath. 'And allow me to un-yoke my own yoke No offence, but…' his grin grew wider, 'that was the worst date I have ever, ever been on.'

A wildfire lit up her cheeks and she moaned and clutched at her broomstick. 'Can we please not go over it?' Her voice dropped to a mumble; 'I really think we should leave the whole thing alone for at least five years.'

'Sirius said it was the worst date he's ever seen,' he continued conversationally, obviously enjoying Lily's mortification immensely, 'and he's watched a surprising amount of television for a pureblood.'

'Sirius is a pervert.'

'Yeah,' James conceded, laughing. 'Wow. He really is.'

It wasn't even that funny, but Lily laughed as well. And when they had finished laughing, the widest smiles that their mouths could possibly produce had taken up permanent residence on their faces. They were giddy. They were floating and giddy and so together in the moment that no one else existed.

Then James turned around, bowing his head over the broomstick. Torso twisted slightly to the side, he placed both hands along the wooden length and, with dexterity that both amazed and horrified Lily, swung himself over the broom. Now facing her, he grinned a grin that lit up his eyes and caused Lily's breath to catch and her cheeks to redden. He reached for her, stretching over his broom, but they were too far away. His hand passed through the dink when he swiped at it.

Then, hope lighting up his face, he looked up again, eyebrows rising in a wheedling fashion. 'Can you come forward a bit?'

'I'd love to,' she replied mournfully, tightening her grip on the handle of her broom, 'but no.'

James's face set in resolve, the kind that had always terrified and awed Lily. Bottom lip clamped between his teeth, he inched forwards on his broom, closer to the bristles.

Suddenly she realised what he was doing. 'Hey! No! Stay there —you'll fall —no —James —'

'Relax,' he laughed. 'I'm the Quidditch Captain —I'm kind of good at this.'

'Merlin,' Lily moaned, feeling sick, 'I knew that your over-inflated ego would be the death of you, but I didn't think it would kill me as well…'

'I am quite happy to die in pursuit of a kiss from the most barmy witch in the world.' He was frowning down at the bristles of the broom's tail now. 'I'd probably get some posthumous award for romantic bravery.'

Lily's cheeks flared and she couldn't help but grin in an embarrassed fashion, even as her stomach lurched. 'If you kiss me now,' she warned, heart speeding at the look on his face, 'I may just throw up.'

'You know… that's a risk I'm surprisingly willing to take.' His knees were gripping the tail now.

Then, with an impish grin at her, he flung himself from his broom and caught the handle of Lily's.

For a moment James hung precariously below and Lily screamed bloody murder as the broom swayed and readjusted to the sudden weight. Then he clambered up, all elbows and knees, and perched on the very end. He swayed there laughing, far too big for the Lily-sized vehicle.

The combination of freezing cold and screaming louder than she ever had before had caused Lily's eyes to stream, and, still chuckling, James wiped at the watery trails left on her cheeks. All that kept him upright was the grip of his knees, clamped at the very tip of the broom.

'You're going to fall,' she gasped. There was nothing to it. He was using both hands to hold her face and clearly cared nothing about safety.

So she took her hands off the broom.

She took both of her hands off the broom, and clamped her arms around James's waist like a seatbelt. Afterward, James could never really understand what a big moment this really was, because, honestly, there was never much of a chance of his falling. But for Lily it meant everything. It meant I care about you more than I care about myself.

No, he didn't really notice, because he was too busy arranging her limbs over his; pulling her knees over his knees and tipping her chin up so that, with a last exhilarated grin of victory, he could kiss her.

And it was the most uncomfortable kiss ever, because their teeth were chattering and their lips were numb with cold, and condensation was fogging up James's glasses so he couldn't see what he was kissing, but it was also the best. In jerky movements he had stripped off his gloves so that he could touch her skin, and his hands were burning cold on her neck, carving a path of freezing fire across her collarbones and jaw. It was fumbling and wonderful and not at all romantic, because neither of them could stop laughing. Their lips could barely connect because their smiles were too wide, and both had their eyes wide open, unable to look away for a moment.

And then he stopped laughing quite suddenly, pulling away. 'This is it,' James told Lily, looking at her hard. 'This is the end for you. After everything, you're so… so… so incredibly stuck with me…' The words were slow and measured and fierce. Shaking his head, he was staring at her in adoration, lost for words, and she clenched her fists into his Quidditch jersey, aware that there was a possibility that she just might die from feeling.

'I'm really quite fine with that,' she told him dazedly. All of her internal organs seemed set to explode with the rightness of it all. This has begun. James's chest was solid under hers, and his arms were pulling her closer and where her skin chafed his skin there was warmth. Where their noses rubbed, sparks jumped as if off a tinderbox. He shifted, puffing in laughter and annoyance, trying to get her closer, biting at her lips and kissing her cheek and her eyebrow when she shifted as well and her lips slipped out of reach. The broom dipped alarmingly and Lily shrieked in terror, right in his ear.

'Merlin, Lily!' James howled in pain and laughter, tipping his head back and clapping a hand to the ear. His giddy eyes glowed gold and his exhilarated cheeks glowed pink and his grinning lips glowed red. He kissed her once, hard. 'You're never going to fall, okay?' Kissed her again.

'I know, I just moved and —'

'You're not going to fall.' He had her face in his hands, and he was earnest and shining and Lord, Lily loved him so much.

'I know,' she mumbled in reply.

And they were flying, the two of them. They were together and they were flying.