The sky outside is lulled, grey. The rain is pounding so hard that all normally straight lines are blurred, Hagrid's hut and the Quidditch Pitch nothing but dark blobs in the distance.
Lily thanks Merlin for the walls and the warm fire of the common room, protecting her from the harsh weather of spring. Unexpectedly, a warm body curls up next to Lily on the beanbag; a rough hand settles protectively around her waist.
There's another force protecting her from the outside world: James Potter . . . but love, she supposes, would be a more accurate description of the force. Love and James Potter . . . the lines surrounding the two blur in her mind. He is the epitome of perfect love, the only one she's ever known. He showers her with affection, overwhelms her with his love. Everyday when he holds her she sees the awe and admiration in his eyes, and she sees how long he's waited for this.
And something painful clenches in her gut, and her heart starts beating very very fast when she thinks about all the pain she's caused him. She cannot think about him in pain because it scares her, more badly than she is willing to admit. She can't think of him in pain because she knows that as soon as they are out of Hogwarts, out of Dumbledore's safety, the chance of him being in pain will increase rapidly. Simply for being in association with her.
She would feel incredibly guilty at the thought, but she knows that in a world where she didn't exist, James would still be fighting for people like her. For people like Sirius (the marked "traitor"), for people like Remus (the "dangerous"), for people like Peter (the underdog). So she feels comforted by this thought.
"I love you," a voice murmurs. He holds her tighter.
Lily smiles a bit. "I know." How could she doubt it? How could she doubt it when he had been showing her everyday for the past two years, right under her very blind nose? (That and the fact that he had said "I love you" every single solitary day ever since their first kiss.) Lily smiles more. "James, I love you too."