The rain lashed against the dark windows as a clap[ of lightning illuminated the room for a split second. Lily loved thunderstorms at Hogwarts, the way that the candlelight shuddered at claps of thunder, and the sound of rain torrenting on the large stones that built up the castle as water sluiced down the clear windowpanes. The effect was both cozy and lonesome. And Lily loved to bask in feelings of melancholy and dreariness. Especially since the war had started and the news stories in the Prophet were becoming increasingly grim, Lily felt herself sinking and sliding into depression and worry. Not too noticeable at first, the despair crept up on her as she read a new story every day of the gruesome things happening to Muggles and Muggle-borns outside the sturdy castle walls, in a world that Lily believed was better than this. When she first learned about the wizarding world, she had naively hoped that it would be more equal, more just. After all, if everyone had magic capabilities regardless of race, class, or gender, it would surely lead to a more egalitarian society. But Lily had learned that the Wizarding World was just as complex and unfair as the Muggle world, with deep seeds of tension imbedded in things as simple as which Hogwarts House you were sorted into.
Lily shook herself out of her reverie. She had come to this particular spot in the Common Room because it was secluded, and would allow her to enjoy the thunderstorm in peace, with a mug of tea. She was sitting on a windowseat tucked into a far corner of the Common Room, the curtains half drawn, a flimsy protective shell around her, a cocoon protecting her from the worries and anxieties of the life that took place outside. Here she was just Lily, existing at the same time as the storm that was whipping up the Lake outside. Her thoughts wandered to more pleasant things, to the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, the fall colors that had made Hogwarts even more resplendent than usual, her recent perfect marks in Potions that left her glowing, her surprising ease with the Head Boy, Potter. Even if she had started calling him James to herself for a while now. If Lily was being honest with herself, she was secretly extremely pleased at the way that the two of them worked together. Ever since the unspeakable incident fifth year, Lily had to admit that James had done his best to straighten himself out. He and the Marauders were still incorrigible pranksters, but James had buckled down on harmless fun as opposed to heightening tensions with the Slytherins. When Lily had commented on it last year, he just got a faraway look on his face and muttered something about the War, and the necessity to keep everyone lighthearted but not to belittle anyone. And Lily had looked at him since with a different set of eyes.
It hadn't been hard to befriend him, not since he started genuinely caring for others instead of his image. He had actually come up with an idea to provide support groups and counselling to Muggleborns and those who had lost family members in the war, and he had approached her first about it. When she pushed her animosity to the side, they had proposed the idea to McGonagall, who was somewhat unbalanced by James' idea, and the sight of James and Lily agreeing on something, but agreed to it speedily before shooing them out of her office, a little tearily. Within a week, the support groups were up and running and James took none of the credit for it, though it had been a brilliant idea. That was one of the cataclysmic moments between the two of them, that pushed them towards friendship last year. And though Lily's friends teased her about it in the beginning and the school buzzed at the sight of Lily and James eating breakfast together in the Great Hall occasionally, it soon became normal to see the two of them together with a combination of their friends or by themselves. And Lily was glad that the speculation had died down and they were left to their own devices in terms of figuring out this new and budding friendship between them. Though the rumors started again briefly when they had both showed up at Platform 9 ¾ with Head Boy and Girl badges, the school moved on to more titillating gossip soon enough. Lily would be lying if she didn't admit that initially she had some misgivings about James' new appointment as a rule-maker as opposed to a rule-breaker. She was especially unsure where it concerned Sirius Black, who was dangerously inspired whenever he was bored, something that happened all too often for comfort. As the school year approached, she felt nervous that whatever fragile bonds had begun to form between them would be ruined by Potter's inability to keep his mischievousness in line, but James came back to the school a changed person.
Lily never knew what turned the switch in James, but ever since their first Head's meeting on the Hogwarts Express, she sensed immediately the seriousness about him. People at school had all sorts of theories, but Lily suspected that it had to do with the War. Goodness knows she'd changed since fifth year as things quickly went downhill and everyone examined where their own values and loyalties lay. And though she was increasingly curious about the smallest things when it came to James, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. James had almost put more work than herself into Head Duties, and Lily wasn't about to push too much into James' newfound vulnerability and mess that up.
Lily leaned her head back against the rough stone behind her, closing her eyes as another rumble of thunder reverberated through the windowpane next to her. She wrapped her hands more tightly around her warm tea, and tried to push all of these introspective examinations aside.
"You mind if I sit with you?" a voice interrupted her blissful connection to the thunderstorm. Lily already recognized that voice before she opened her eyes. James stood before her, his hair tousled as usual, his glasses sliding down his nose and looking more put together than usual, though his hazel eyes betrayed how exhausted he truly was. That James Potter was good at putting up a front, Lily knew. He always had been.
"I was in the middle of something, Potter."
"I know. You were enjoying the thunderstorm in your spot as usual. I'm not trying to make you be sociable. I just also want to enjoy the thunderstorm and all of the window seats are taken by people who look like they're in the middle of something or would blather to me. I'd rather sit in the quiet." Lily scanned his face. He was being earnest, empty-handed and even more tired than he had appeared at first glance. Lily considered it briefly. She really wanted to enjoy the thunderstorm alone, but it seemed that James would stay quiet just as he seemed to know that she loved to curl up and watch thunderstorms at Hogwarts, a fact that she didn't think was that apparent, but must have been for Potter to pick it up.
She made up her mind. "You can sit with me, but if you disrupt my vibe, I will kick you out." James put up his hands, as if acquiescing and sat on the seat next to her, his back on the opposite wall, and put his feet up, his long legs stretching so that his feet were close to her own waist. He remained quiet, but his eyes examined her intensely, and Lily felt like she was missing a vital piece of information. It only lasted a moment, because he quickly turned his attention from her to the thunderstorm.
Lily found it a little hard at first to forget that James was beside her and just enjoy the rain hitting the window. Though James wasn't being distracting on purpose, he was nevertheless distracting. Lily's eyes kept sneaking to his face, wondering what he was thinking and why he chose to spend his precious time sitting in silence with her rather than with his friends, who would no doubt put him in a better mood, help him forget his stress and exhaustion. His profile seemed to belong on an ancient coin, strong with a clear jawline and a delicate nose. The lighting flashes illuminated his features briefly enough for Lily to admire the way that his glasses were framed by expressive eyebrows. It seemed only yesterday that James was a slightly chubby boy with a penchant for trouble, and now for the first time, Lily realized that it was a man sitting across from her, with eyes set towards the future and a 5 o'clock shadow.
There was something about his presence that thrilled her. Whether it was the slight scent of parchment and the outdoors that Lily always associated with James, or the fact that they were spending time together without talking about the million things that they had to do, it was nice to just be with James. She felt herself relaxing, and less distracted by his presence once she stopped examining it's meaning and let herself lean into it. It was admittedly nice to face the rage of nature with someone next to her. She lost track of time as she steadily worked her way through her mug of tea and let the pitter patter of rain lull her soul back into a more settled and peacefully restored state.
Eventually the thunderstorm calmed to a light rain, the dark and ominous clouds giving way to smaller clouds and the occasional glimpse of the silvery moon, reflecting on the Lake and the glowing windows of the castle. Lily felt herself on the edge of something infinite, a hope blooming in her chest at the beauty that lay before her. Something deep within herself believed that everything would turn out okay, that she would be okay. She turned to James in this moment of surety, wanting to share in this secret depth she had discovered. James' head was tilted back, and his eyes were closed. He had fallen asleep. Lily had no idea how long they'd been there, or how long he had been asleep.
She took him in. She didn't think that she had ever seen James Potter asleep, but she also couldn't remember ever registering it as anything noteworthy. His face was relaxed in a way she had never seen it before. He usually had a grin playing around his mouth or a twinkle in his eye. Even as the War progressed and he seemed increasingly serious and tired, he had always had an electric aura around him; he was always in motion, always so alive. It was odd to see him like this, unguarded, vulnerable, still. It left Lily feeling slightly unsettled, like at any moment he would pop up and pretend it had all been a prank. Still, she couldn't help but study him even more intently, noting that he had a nicely shaped mouth, and that he had unusually long eyelashes. His tie was askew, and his shirtsleeves rolled up so that she could see his darkly muscled forearms and his nimble fingers seemed unbelievably immobile. He must have been quite exhausted to just conk out like that. Lily's eyes snapped back to his face, noting the tiredness around his eyes and was surprised to feel a softening in her heart. She inched closer to him, and before she knew what she was doing, she pushed his hair back from his forehead, tenderly. She drew her hand back quickly, as if burned. What was she doing? This was James Potter, for Godric's sake. She quickly checked around the Common Room to see if anyone saw, but it was mostly deserted. Those who remained were too absorbed in their schoolwork to notice what had happened, with only the goal of reaching their bed lingering in their minds.
Lily turned her attention back to James. Was it possible that along the way she had started to harbor feelings for this incredibly complex mix of man and prankster? That would be incredibly ironic considering how long he had chased her and how adamantly dead-set she was against his romantic inclinations. Lily had always thought that James had pursued her more out of an understanding of how annoying it had been to her, rather than any sort of real feeling that might have been there. And she had never questioned that line of reasoning until now. What would they be like as a couple? They worked well as a team, of that there was no doubt. And both of them had come a long way since Fifth Year. James had grown into responsibilities and his shoulders. Lily had grown out of girlish fantasies of Snape's loyalties and wonder at the Wizarding World. So the thought remained – what if?
Lily shook herself. There was no need to read love stories into completely mundane storylines, she reminded herself sternly. You don't even know if he was being sincere, she told herself. Besides, you like him better since he has fallen out of love with you. Still, the question had been asked, and if Lily hated anything it was not knowing the answer to a question. Taking ahold of herself sternly, she told herself that this was a result of spending too much time daydreaming with the rain, James' presence, and lack of sleep. There was no use in continuing that train of thought.
"I can practically hear the wheels in your head turning," James' said sardonically, causing Lily to jump in surprise and drop her empty mug with a clunk. Thankfully it did not break, but that didn't stop Lily from sending James a dirty look. She said nothing, however, suddenly at a loss for words, embarrassed at being caught thinking of James by that very person. "I get it. Thunderstorms always make me think too much." James looked out over the grounds, and Lily found herself curious. She'd never thought of James as the pensive kind.
"What do you think about?"
James glanced at her, somewhat surprised and also calculating. Lily tried to communicate with her eyes that she seriously wanted to know and that she was not digging for information to use as fodder for later teasing. "Well, there isn't a shortage of things to think about. Mostly about the War, what I'm going to do after school, worrying about my family and the like." He said it almost nonchalantly, but Lily saw the underlying nervousness in his fidgeting hands and the way he was studiously looking away from her.
"I know what you mean. It seems like I have a lot of dark thoughts lately, and thunderstorms are perfect times for wallowing in the nebulousness of the future and your own mind."
James laughed, "That's very poetic of you, Lily." Lily blushed at the use of her first name, though she couldn't name why. A silence fell between them. It was companiable, but Lily still found herself searching for something to say that wouldn't betray her thoughts a few moments earlier. "Do you worry about your family? It must be hard being here and knowing what's happening to Muggleborns and feel kind of powerless."
Lily looked at James in surprise. "What makes you think that?"
"I'm not heartless, Lily. Besides, I worry about my own family, and they're Purebloods. So I can only imagine that it's difficult for you too. If you don't want to talk about it I get it, but I figured I'd ask."
"My family doesn't know what's going on. I haven't told them anything because I don't want them to worry. I keep telling myself that it shouldn't matter, because You-Know-Who doesn't even know who I am or who my family is, but of course I still worry and I feel guilty for not telling them, for not warning them. At the same time I want to shield them, and I feel like they'd not want me at Hogwarts if they knew the truth of it." She met James' eyes, and felt she saw a glimmer of understanding pass between them.
"Even though Hogwarts is the safest place to be." James added nodding sagely. "That's hard Lils. But I feel like you're making the right call. Even if you tell them, there's nothing that they could do, and it might be better if they don't know. Would make them less of targets."
"It is nice when I go home, and don't have to hear about the war for a few weeks," Lily admitted. "But aren't you worried about your parents? They've been pretty outspoken against You-Know-Who. They do probably have targets on their backs."
"They would have anyway," James said grimly. They've been working in the ministry towards better relationships with the Muggles for over twenty years now. Either way it's clear they're not on his side, and my dad says he reckons he'd rather be killed because he did something worth dying for." James' voice cracked a little over this last part, but both of them knew that it was true, recognized the power behind his words.
"So, what do you want to do after Hogwarts?" Lily asked, trying to steer the conversation to less emotionally fraught subjects. She found herself surprised that she didn't already know what James wanted to do after school. But then again, they had never really talked about the future, and their friendship, though solid, seemed to center more around school and mutual friends rather than deep and emotional windowseat confessions. Though that appeared to be changing.
"Well, I always wanted to be a professional Quidditch player." James said lightly.
"No surprise there. Heavens knows you are certainly good enough."
"Why Evans, I had no idea that you paid such close attention to my Quidditch skills."
"They are a little hard to miss, Potter."
"Well, as flattering as that is, I think I'm going to be an Auror. With things going the way they are, the Ministry needs all the help it can get, and in all honesty I agree with my dad. Might as well be killed fighting than killed in the crossfire. There are more things at stake here than the Quidditch World Cup."
Lily knew he was trying to be light about mentioning his possible death, but the very thought of James Potter fighting and dying in this war, well, Lily wasn't quite sure what the feelings stirring inside of her meant. "Every time I think about what happens after school, I just see the reality of war tearing us all apart. This time next year, some of us could already be dead. There are people dying right now, and it seems so helpless to just be here studying and writing essays when people are giving up their lives." Lily couldn't continue. She was fighting back tears.
"Hey, Lily, hey," James said softly, clasping her hand in his and inching closer. "It's okay. We all feel a little helpless right now." James pulled her close, arms around her shoulder, giving her a hug. He didn't let go, and she didn't make any move to dislodge him, just buried her head in his chest and let herself feel the despair and stress that had been clawing at her, letting the tears flow out of her at last. Because for some reason she didn't feel the need to appear strong for James Potter, this brave and beautiful boy who was willing to sacrifice not only his dreams but his life for this war. For people like her. James was murmuring words and stroking her hair and she couldn't hear what they were, but she appreciated them none the less. As her tears slowed, Lily became increasingly aware of the hardness of James' chest, the warmth of his skin, the piney scent that surrounded her. She blushed and pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. She was aware that she was probably a blotchy mess right now, and she felt a timidity around James that she hadn't felt for a long time. James watched her, his hazel eyes inscrutable.
"Sorry," she sniffled. It was hard to keep James' gaze. "It's just been a lot recently. I didn't mean to ruin your night by having you talk about your parents and the war and then cry all over you."
James smiled softly, a smile that transformed his face. A genuine smile that radiated from his very being, and all of a sudden, Lily felt the timidity leave her, replaced by the soft beating of her heart. "It's okay Lily. I don't mind. Like I said we all feel a little helpless right now, and it's important to be here for each other. But I hope you know that our studying isn't useless. The better we do here, the more chance we have of fighting back against him, of ending this war."
Lily smiled. "Thanks James. I know you're right. I just feel frustrated sometimes. But if you ever need to cry all over me, you know where you can find me at the next thunderstorm."
They both huffed laughs, and just like that the moment was broken. James stood up, stretching and Lily determinedly did not watch the way his shirt inched up to reveal a chiseled hipbone. He straightened himself up, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his hair as he rolled his neck, moaning at the crick that was starting to form from his ill-advised nap against the castle wall. Lily felt a thousand words rush to her mouth but kept silent. "I should get to bed before I fall asleep in another uncomfortable position. Do try and get some sleep Evans."
Lily tried not to be disappointed at the reversion back to their last names. "I will. Goodnight, Potter." James nodded, and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to say something else, his hazel eyes burning into hers. But then the moment was gone and he was retreating across the Common Room.
Lily watched him leave, feeling a tenderness growing inside her heart. She groaned as she let her head fall back on the wall with a thump. She was fucked.