On Tuesday, James woke up early, feeling refreshed. He had, for once, slept through the night. It felt good. He rolled over and looked out the window. The snow was no longer pristine. Instead, it had begun to look rather gray and dirty. Footprint trails crisscrossed across the expansive grounds, weaving intricate patterns. Snowdrifts were piled high on the sides of walkways that had been cleared by the teachers and older students. It was snowing again, but not the pretty kind. Instead, the sky was gray. The wind whipped the trees, causing the forbidden forest to shiver ominously. The snow fell in icy pellets, that stung as they made contact with faces and hands. Additionally, it was freezing in the dorm. James groaned. His bed was warm while he lay under the covers, but he knew he would be freezing. He braced himself to get out of bed.

"Three…two…one," he muttered. Just as he prepared to spring, he heard the pipes clang and the water come on. He craned his neck to glare at the bathroom. The red occupied sign flashed mockingly at him. He let his head fall back on the pillows. At least she was up. That was a start. He let his mind wander, with some pain, back to when his own parents had died. He remembered precious few details about the week following their death, he simply remembered a pervading sense of numbness. Gradually, it had become a constant pain, an ache, that he carried everywhere; almost like a headache, really. Only after Lily had practically exploded at him had he begun to change. No, he thought. That was giving himself too little credit. He had been changing, but Lily had been a large part of the impetus. She made him want to change. She made him welcome the changes that had already occurred and learn how to make more. And now he was trying to do the same for her. It was what she deserved.

The shower slowly wound to a halt and James suddenly realized that he couldn't hear water running anymore. A soft bell told him that she had vacated the bathroom. So James hauled himself up and flew across the cold floor into the bathroom to shower. He pulled on jeans and a sweater, along with his robes and went to breakfast feeling almost…hopeful.

Down in the Great Hall, James was shocked to see Lily sitting next to Remus. On Remus' other side sat Sirius. On Lily's other side sat her best friend, Alice. Two of the other roommates, Dorcas and Emmeline sat across from Lily and Alice. James quickened his pace and slid into a seat next to Emmeline. She turned her head to smile at him.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," James replied, looking confused. "Not to be rude or anything, but what are you all doing over here?"

"Well," replied Emmeline, drawing the word out with a smirk.

"No reason," Lily broke in hurriedly, shooting a look at her friend. "I just thought we might sit over here today." She looked a little uncertain, and was refusing to meet his eyes.

"No," James broke it. "It's fine, I mean, you don't have to move." He laughed awkwardly. "I mean, we are friends now." Now it was his turn to be unsure. Lily caught his gaze, finally, looking slightly flushed.

"Yes we are." She grinned slightly. "And this time, it's going to last more that a week or so."

He laughed. "Obviously."

She smirked and went back to her toast. James began pulling everything within reach towards him as he piled his plate. Lily looked vaguely disgusted, but when he shot her a questioning glance, she just shrugged and ducked her head, light flashing off her thick, red hair.

*&*

On Wednesday night, James sat in the Gryffindor common room doing homework. Remus was on one side, Sirius across from them. Sirius was doing his best to be distracting, but James and Remus had had far too much practice in dealing with this sort of thing. Now he simply sat there staring. Finally, James had enough.

"For Merlin's sake, Padfoot. If you don't want to do homework, go do something else. But leave me out of it! I have a ton of shit to do."

Sirius looked sulky. "I'm bored."

There was a pause. "Well seeing as you're Hogwarts number two most desired male, you shouldn't have too much of a problem. Unless you've lost your touch…"

Sirius sprang up. "I have not. I'm just too good for everyone else." James just looked at him. "I can get any girl I want!" Sirius yelled. The females in the common room looked up, irritated. "I mean, come on. Who wouldn't want this?" He winked at a fifth year, who blushed crimson. "See?" He grabbed her by the hand and began leading her out of the common room. Suddenly, he swung around.

"And what do you mean I'm Hogwarts number two hottie? I'm number one!"

James shook his head, smiling slightly.

"I mean, it's really no competition: me, Sirius Black, or the guy who can't even get the girl he's been in love with for seven years to give him a chance. See? No competition." And he whirled again and led the girl out of the common room.

James sat next to Remus at the table, flushed and irritated.

"He's right, you know," said Remus. "Unfortunately, he's probably the number one hottie. But he's a player, so he'll never have what you want."

James looked at him. "That was profound."

Remus shrugged in mock modesty. "What can I say, I'm a genius. And my genius will not be contained…" he trailed off and went back to reading. James rolled his eyes and went back to reading also. But from her armchair across the common room, Lily noticed that the back of his neck was still red. For a moment, she wished she were a fly on the wall, able to hear them. Then, she shook her head. It was probably stupid anyway. But still, in love with her? She laughed to herself. It couldn't be. Sirius must have meant someone else. Neither James, nor she were in love. With anyone. She was sure of it.

*&*

Early Friday morning, James awoke from a particularly fearsome nightmare. Unable to go back to sleep, he went downstairs to the Heads common room. There, he found Lily Evans sitting on the sofa, staring into the fire. She gave a start as he walked into the room.

"James?"

"Hey."

There was a moment of silence in which only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

"Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head.

"Me neither."

"Bad dream?" he asked. She nodded slightly.

"Me too."

She finally turned to look at him.

"But…"

"It never goes away," he said, sighing. "At least, it hasn't yet. For me."

"Great." She lowered her head to rest on the back of the couch, her eyes still following James as he sat down next to her.

"What was yours about?" she asked. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Lily noticed that he hadn't shaved in a few days. Stubble looked good on him, she decided. Instantly, she rebuked herself for allowing that line of thought. But now she had begun it, and her only two options were to feel awkward about it, or to continue. She flushed slightly and looked away, praying he didn't notice.

"My parents." He began answering her. "They're at my house with me, and we're just sitting together. It was nice, like it used to be. Suddenly, the scene shifted and they were gone. Voldemort was standing in front of me telling me to beg for their lives. I refused and there was a lot of pain and screaming, mine and theirs. But Lily," he turned to face her. "I refused." His eyes were filled with pain. "How could I do that? How could I not save them?" Lily had no answer. But looking at him, she felt compelled. She couldn't control her actions. He was taking over…who the hell was she kidding? It was Lily's use of profanity in her mind that caused her to turn away from him. Staring in shock, she let the thought run through her mind, unable to stop it. She was already his. She felt his arm come around her, and her head found its way to his shoulder, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They both sat there, not moving, as the fire flickered in front of them.

*&*

Later that day, during lunch, Lily ran into James in the Heads common room.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. It was so much easier to pretend, she had found (much to her relief) during the daytime.

"Sleeping," he replied from the couch, without moving to look at her.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "Me too." She walked in and dropped her bag next to the chair. Curling up, she pulled a blanket over herself.

"Wake me up at quarter to one?"

"Kay," he mumbled. Lily had one more thought.

"James?"

"Huh," he muttered.

"We're boring, aren't we?"

His laugh rumbled around the room and she smiled. She had made him laugh. That thought too wiped the smile off her face and she almost missed his answer.

"No we're not," he managed to mumble. "We're just…" The pause was so long she thought he'd fallen asleep. Then he laughed tiredly. "Boring," he finished. "Great."

Lily laughed, and quickly fell asleep.

It turned out that neither one of them was awake at quarter to one. In fact, James was the first to wake up. He lifted his head and stared at his watch.

"Crap."

He looked at Lily. She was still curled up in the armchair. The light from the window was lying along her pale cheek and dancing in her hair. James felt his stomach lurch so strongly he thought he just might be sick. He needed to get over her. He saw her eyes open and sparkle at seeing him.

"Hey James. What time is it?"

"Quarter to five."

"Oh, ok, let's get…Quarter to five!"

"Clearly, neither of us heard the alarm."

Lily still looked horrified. James grinned at her.

"What?" she asked slowly.

"Well, I suggest that some very important Head's business came up."

Lily laughed. "You're horrible."

"Yep," he agreed. "But it'll save us detentions, especially if we go ask for homework like the dedicated students we are."

"Dedicated students?" she laughed.

James looked wounded. "Do you treat everyone with such sarcasm?"

"No," she replied. "Only my friends." Her eyes sparkled with laughter and she looked truly happy, despite missing half a day of classes and preparing to lie to teachers. That was why the word hit James all the harder in the gut. She was the perfect girl, who was his friend. It was time for some drastic action, if this friend thing was going to work. It clearly suited her (and thereby suited him), but he definitely needed some way to deal with all this frustration.

*&*

Which was why, on Sunday morning, James decided to take action. Hogsmeade was in two weeks, but he didn't ask for that. No, he needed a girlfriend now. And so, during lunch, James entered the Great Hall hand in hand with Rose Anderson. The Hall immediately broke out in whispers, causing everyone who hadn't already noticed to look at the doors. James, trying desperately to look nonchalant, was leading Rose (who was blushing profusely) to the Gryffindor table. He sat down in the Marauders' typical spot, and proceeded to have a quiet lunch while the rumor mill worked on being anything but quiet.

Rose Anderson was not the type of girl James was usually seen with. Of course, as he hadn't been seen with anyone sine the end of last year, his type was now hard to judge. But Rose was…quiet. Smart. A Ravenclaw prefect, she had great grades and a great personality. She was witty, kind to everyone, liked by all. She was also beautiful. Her hair was long and dark, a perfect complement to her brown eyes. Her skin was a creamy peach color and her cheeks were flushed perfectly. She had perfect eyebrows, a perfect smile, a perfect figure, she was perfect; Lily finished her assessment rather bitterly.

She had not been at lunch and so had not heard the news until she had seen Alice in their next class. She had looked at James who was being accosted by his friends. He was sitting next to her, blushing. She was blushing too, but not too much to prevent her from speaking to Sirius whose face instantly relaxed. Remus smiled at her and James. Even Peter seemed to be charmed by her. She completed the picture, she fit in perfectly with them. The four boys, and Rose. It was all just perfect.

Lily sat in the corner with her friends. They looked at her, but she assured them that no she did not mind. After all, she and James were just friends. But days later, when she was alone in her dorm, the insecurities that had always dwelled within her broke out. She lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. Just thinking. She had always known that he'd liked her, he had made no secret of that. But he had been such a great prankster, how could she have known that she had been the one thing that was not a joke? No one could have known that, she reassured herself savagely. No one could be expected to be able to tell the difference between the many lies and the one truth. After all, if you cried wolf too many times, pretty soon, no one came.

And so it had been with them. She never took the bait. And now it was too late. A tear made its way from the corner of her eye straight back to her hairline. It was uncomfortable. It tickled. Lily didn't touch it. If he really knew her, as he claimed, he should have known. "He should have known," she said aloud. It hung in the air for a moment, just hovering, in front of her. Then it crumbled and disappeared, as Lily knew that it was not an excuse. She had never given him anything, any shred of hope to go on. And the stupid promise. She was crying openly now. She never should have done that. But she had been so tired, and she couldn't lose him, but she hadn't been able to love him either. James was very all or nothing. She had known that. Sirius had even yelled that at her once during fifth year, when she had turned James down yet again. But she had laughed. Of course, that had been a joke too. For no one took the jester seriously.

Now, he wasn't the jester, he was the king. So many people loved him so completely, how could he ever have remained merely the jester? He had pulled himself together and come in to his own so perfectly. He was brilliant. He always had been, but now he used it for the good of all, instead of just the entertainment of a few. He was kind, now to everyone instead of just his friends. And Rose was the queen. She had seen it, all his goodness, had seen him for what he was. And she had taken it. Not, Lily reflected, that she was too badly off either. And now the two of them were Hogwarts royalty, the perfect couple. He treated her like the queen she was. They were not always together, but a small touch of hands in the hallway, a meeting of eyes, a rose at breakfast, some quiet, exclusive dates that everyone knew about but no one could find to crash.

Now as they walked in front of Lily to lunch, she had never felt so out of place. She remembered when it had been her, with the Marauders. It still could have been, but she refused them, unable to stand the prying looks, the pitying looks, Rose.

And so, Lily Evans, felt small. She no longer spoke up in class. She spent more and more time alone, walking. The bags under her eyes tripled in size. Which just served to make Lily more unhappy with her appearance. Which led to more self-doubt, self-loathing. Which just perpetuated the vicious circle. So Lily Evans excused herself one day from class and tore down the hall to the bathroom to cry. Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched. And it was heartbreaking.

*&*

Rose Anderson sighed in defeat as she watched Lily Evans excuse herself from class. Next to her, her boyfriend James Potter barely seemed to notice, so focused was he on the assignment and his girlfriend. But Remus was not good at Transfiguration and Sirius was too good, and neither of them was tied down. As such, both of them noticed. As Rose watched them exchange sad glances, she knew what she had to do.

She excused herself after class to take a walk. Outside by the lake, her thoughts were always clearer. They came, as they always did, first of James. He was so sweet and kind. He wasn't clingy, and didn't need her to be. He was romantic, but not sappy. He was funny and a prankster, but he never took jokes beyond propriety. At least, not anymore. He was perfect, and he was perfect to her. And the idea of letting him go was so painful that Rose couldn't bear it. But she knew. Oh, she knew.

She saw the looks that Lily gave James when she thought no one was looking. She saw the look that James tried desperately to conceal every time he spoke with her. After all, they were just friends. She saw Lily's heartbreak, and James' distraction. He was never rude, and certainly not bored of her, but Rose somehow suspected that he couldn't always keep his mind from Lily, though he tried gallantly. But most of all, Rose saw that though the selfish part of herself that said (rightly so) that she had won James fair and square, and she deserved him. But somehow, she just knew that he wasn't hers to keep. So she gave him up.

She was miserable, he was surprised, astounded. Why? He asked. Why did she want to break up with him? What had he done wrong? Rose could only cry. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, but more kept coming, wiping away all traces of his attempts as if he had never been there. Go, she told him. Go to Lily. Lily? He asked. What did this have to do with Lily? So she explained. And the look of profound gratitude on his face was so heartbreaking, that she almost started crying again for him and his innocent happiness. And so he left, taking with him his cloud of happiness, leaving Rose to her darkness.

*&*

Back in the Heads Room, Lily was sitting on the couch in her typical position, knees drawn up, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her chin rested lightly on her knees, her eyes were red and puffy. The fireplace was cold and dark, illuminated only by beams of moonlight. James wasn't back yet. Lily noted that fact through her haze of half pain half numbness. She bet he was with her. Lily thought the thought, and was instantly ashamed. No more bitterness, she decided. Enough. She stood and walked to the window, looking at the moonlight reflecting off the snow. She heard the portrait hole open. She did not turn.

James opened the portrait hole as quietly as possible, but it still squeaked. He was slightly surprised to see Lily awake. But, he realized, he had not been paying much attention to her since he had had Rose. But no longer. He wondered if she slept at all. The moonlight was coming in the large window, giving Lily's outline a haloed effect. He watched her shoulders move slightly. Rise fall. Rise. Fall. Rise…hitch. Fall. He started, confused. He moved towards her in the moonlight. She turned to face him.

His face was looking at her, eyes deep and probing. They were no longer hazel, but silver like the moon. His stubble was more pronounced, and Lily felt her stomach flip. His lips were thin, his nose slightly too long. But those were only the sorts of things you noticed close up, Lily noted distractedly as he moved closer.

She was right there, the spaghetti straps of her pajama top revealing so much, yet so little. Her top rose up as she straightened her posture, revealing a small strip of pale white skin. His eyes rose back to her face. She wasn't moving. She didn't look like she was breathing. He hair was wild, an untamed halo around her head. Her eyes were puffy. She was beautiful. He reached a hand out.

His hand came in contact with her hair. He played with a few loose tendrils, tugging lightly at her scalp. Her stomach felt as if it might explode. Her scalp tingled where he touched it. The tingling spread through her whole body was she stepped closer this time. A trade off. She looked up.

Her face was right there, green eyes confused and dim, yet eerily clear. This had already been choreographed, he thought, as he reached for her. His hand connected with her back and he couldn't think anymore.

His hand was on her back. She had never felt like this before. She had almost seen a flash of light when he touched her. Like a blow, like lightning. Her head reeled. She couldn't think. She stretched up, eyes closing.

Suddenly, they were kissing. At first it was calm, almost serene. Lily didn't move and James couldn't. It was like seeing sunlight for the first time. Really and truly opening ones eyes. But it was overwhelming. And this had already happened, somewhere, sometime, another life. And so they were kissing more fiercely. It was need so acute to the point of pain. It hurt, but it would have hurt more to stop. James' hand was on her back, it had found skin. Her back tingled so hard she felt as though she were being branded. Her legs were numb, they didn't work anymore. She fell into him for support. Her hands were tangled, one in his hair, one on his back. Pulling him closer. But there was no closer. It hurt. She couldn't breathe. He felt, but too much. He couldn't tell where he was anymore. Where anything was. Except her.

Breathing was ragged, clearly not a necessity. An interruption maybe. His shirt was on the floor. Her shirt had ridden up so high it barely existed anymore. The moonlight flowed steadily in through the window. Then they fell. But even that was hardly an interruption as she landed on top of him. She lifted her head to ask a question, but he was kissing her neck, and suddenly, she didn't have a question anymore. She slammed her mouth down to his, sealing it, along with whatever noise he may have made. But the need for air became demanding. Making itself more than just an interruption. Spots danced before her eyes, though she couldn't tell if it was from lack of air or not. James was panting, breathing ragged, chest rising and falling forcefully, heart pounding. Lily took her palm and slowly traced the planes of his face, enjoying they way his heart skipped against her own. Two beats, similar only in their dissimilarity. Two pairs of lips, bruised and rubbed raw. Two bodies tangled, almost but not quite one.

James kissed her again, but this was not an argument, a fight, two gladiators doing battle, thinking only of exerting themselves, of winning. This was controlled and beautiful. Their lips danced. Lily could feel her heart pounding in her ears. The he broke it. She shifted in his arms as he moved his hands to cup her face. She almost cried, it was so simple, yet the most romantic thing she had ever felt. He just looked at her, and Lily felt so safe and protected, so loved and owned.

"Mine" he whispered, and Lily could say nothing. Her throat was raw, it felt like it would explode.

"I love you," she whispered. And he looked so happy, that she knew it was right, though it almost hurt to say it. It was bitter and ugly, a memory of her last love, lost.

He kissed her, driving the feelings back.

"I love you too." But no, he had not been driving them back. He kissed her again and the bitterness spilled out her eyes as she cried, her lips as she kissed him and her ears as she heard it again and again.

"I love you."

And it was pure. She bent her neck to kiss him one last time. It was simple and chaste. She rested her head on his chest and he locked his arms around her. Slowly, their heartbeats slowed, and became one. The sun rose, and they slept.