Lyrics at the beginning and end belong to the wonderful Imogen Heap, Speeding Cars.
Here's the day you hoped would never come.
Lily knew something had changed in James Potter once she heard that his parents had died. Of course, actually hearing the news wasn't that hard; word travelled fast at Hogwarts, and by lunchtime nearly everyone, except the Slytherins, were offering their condolences.
But knowing he had changed happened when he came traipsing into the Common Room with his friends that evening. She didn't know what to expect. Lily had never been able to imagine James without a smile on his face; he seemed to give off an aura of spontaneity, of liveliness and exuberance which she didn't think anything could destroy. Nor could she imagine him distant and brooding, or crying openly, bereft with grief. It just completely annihilated everything that symbolised him.
And it annoyed her in a way because, for once, she wouldn't know how to deal with him.
So when James did walk into the room, Lily took the opportunity to study him; dark hair still as messy as ever, a slight slump in posture, a grim expression on his face. But his eyes, his eyes. They held such a resolution in them that Lily felt herself knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that one day he would become an Auror and fight against evil, fight for his parents, and, maybe, just maybe, fight for her.
Those eyes caught hers for a brief moment and she noticed his mouth contort into a sort of half-smile, as if it pained him to do so.
And then he was gone, upstairs into the boy's dormitory to go and grieve in whatever way he could, but even then, Lily couldn't picture him crying.
Later that night, Lily blearily made her way into the Common Room, having left half of her Charms essay by the fireplace.
The fire was still crackling away, the flames licking at each other in a bid to reach the opening of the chimney; it was clear that someone had been down here recently, and she wasn't really surprised to find James Potter curled up on the settee, hazel eyes wide open and staring into the fire.
She bit her lip, essay falling limp in her hand, and suddenly felt awkward. What does one actually say to the boy you supposedly loathe after his parents die?
His eyes suddenly glanced over to her small frame in the corner, seemingly engulfed by the shadows of the room. Lily met his gaze, still trying to form her words.
Images of all the taunts and bullying, of the way he treated other students, treated her, the countless times he'd asked her out, infuriated her, perplexed her, flashed through Lily's mind, along with that one, burning image of his eyes earlier that afternoon, and she suddenly found the right words to say.
"I'm here, James."
One hand reached out and brushed his for a moment, before she turned round and retreated upstairs to the safety of her bed, marvelling at how that small touch made her whole body tingle and her heart flutter.
So she didn't really surprise herself, though it surprised the majority of the Great Hall the next morning, when she decided to sit next to James at breakfast, or that their hands ended up entwined underneath the table before morning lessons started.
Lily supposed it wasn't just James that had done some changing.