Chapter Seven

Lily woke up to a familiar feeling. That feeling when you have a sleepover at someone's house, and then when you open your eyes, for a split second, you forget where you are. That momentary panic that doesn't lead any further than the initial anxiety, where you could never ponder further where you were or what happened to you.

Looking at the unfamiliar poster of a half-naked model taped to the wall right beside her bed, Lily jolted completely awake. And for a moment, she had no idea where she was. Until she felt the chest pressed to her back and remembered the night before.

Lots of smoking and leaning against Lenny for support. Hopefully nothing more. But she couldn't help but notice that she was naked besides her pants.

She carefully slid out of the bed, managing to not wake Lenny or any of the sleeping bodies in the sixth year Slytherin dormitory. Her head snapped over to Albus' bed, but it was empty. At six-thirty in the morning. She shook her head in bafflement.

Lily pulled on her crumpled onesie, zipping it up the front slowly and quietly. Now that she was awake, she felt awful. Her throat was sore. She lifted a hand and felt the sides of her throat – lymph nodes swollen. She tried to swallow and it made her wince.

She looked around for her shoes but couldn't find them. It didn't matter that they were old, ugly shoes – torn up canvas with holes in them – it mattered that she was going to have to walk all the way back from the dungeons to the tower, only to get naked again and crawl under her covers. She briefly entertained the idea of going up the two flights of stairs to Scorpius' room and knocking on his door. But she didn't want to open up that can of worms just yet.

Lily walked across the room, slid under Albus' sheets, and closed the drapes around her. She fell back asleep, only to snap her eyes back open when she heard a crinkle at her toes. Newspaper. She reached down in annoyance and yanked it out from the covers. She was just about to crumple it up and throw it on the floor when the paused – it was the sports section, and across the page, Mabel Gould flew.

This was the newspaper that had shaken Dominique to the core, had made her flee the Great Hall. Something on the back of this page had broken her cousin's cool façade. Lily recalled the way Dominique's delicate, porcelain skin had drained of color, the way her blood red nails had stood out in contrast against her white skin and the stark newsprint. Even Mabel Gould's anxiety-ridden expression couldn't compete with Dominique's horror-stricken expression.

Slowly, Lily flipped the page over.

Loud knocking resonated down the hall, and Philip yelled, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Like Lily hadn't heard that before. The door flew open and her eyes lifted to meet his, brown and sweet, currently narrowed in irritation, but everything else was about him was slightly off than it had been when they had gone to school together. He wore slacks and a rumpled button-up shirt, light blue. His hair was gelled. He wore loafers, and they were shiny, like he actually cared to look professional. He didn't have stubble, not even the slightest trace of it, and he didn't smell like weed and cologne and sex – he smelled like aftershave and a fresh shower.

"Lil-Lily? What the fuck?" He looked about as happy to see her as he would be to see a tax collector. He looked her up and down, but his expression didn't change. Bewildered, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes squinted slightly with wariness. His hand held the door, ready at any moment to slam it back in her face.

He should be wary. Because Lily was fuming.

She pushed past him and into his flat. She spotted a gold picture frame set next to a pumpkin-scented candle, and snatched it up from the coffee table. "Perfect!" she sneered. She turned on him and tapped the glass with an erect finger. "I'm so fucking happy for you!"

"Wow," Philip said, his wariness melting away and a smile spreading across his face. He shut the door behind him and took an easy step towards her. "You tracked me down because you're jealous? I'm flattered, but, Lils, it's a little pathetic."

Lily wanted to smack that stupid smug grin off his face. No, she wanted to take a beater's bat to it. She set the picture frame back down, this time face down so she wouldn't see those big, virginal, 18th century, Marie-Antoinette-blue eyes staring back at her.

"I didn't 'track you down' because I'm jealous – which I'm not, by the way. I wasn't then, and I'm not now. I tracked you down because I found you out. You despicable piece of shit." Lily's voice was slow, but it was as hard and cold as ice. Philip's smile slipped a bit, but then came back full wattage.

"What did I do this time? You already know I cheated on my girlfriend with you. What else did I do that was so bad you're actually mad about it?" Philip slipped past her and flopped down on his couch, resting one foot on the knee of his other leg. He looked up at her patiently, like a therapist.

She was actually kind of excited to drop the bomb, as angry as she was about it. But it wasn't hard to put two and two together. Lily took a deep breath and said, "You were with Dominique. All that time you were with me, you were fucking her, too, weren't you?"

This time, his smile dropped completely.

"Or am I wrong? Are you with her now, is that it? Or was it last year?"

"Does the 'when' really matter?" His tone, at least, was the slightest bit apologetic.

She dropped her head into her hands. Oh, god. It was so horrible. She wanted to cry, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Every tear she had spent on him was a waste of time. She didn't look at him, but she heard him get up and approach her.

"Oh, Lily, come on – can I at least explain? It was so long ago, I'm surprised you're even upset…" His hand brushed her shoulder and she jolted away. Her gaze was accusatory and enough to keep him at bay.

"Just listen, okay? Dominique's hot. But she doesn't – she didn't mean anything to me like you did, really. We only hooked up, like, twice, right after Ava and I broke up. It wasn't anything, and it wasn't even that great."

"Who else? Molly? Oh god, Lucy? Roxy?!" Lily's voice became shrill and tears started welling up in her eyes. "Did I mean anything to you, or is any vagina fine?"

He rolled his eyes and approached her again, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Stop being so dramatic, you know you were special. You still are."

"Get away from me!" Lily pushed at him but he stayed, nuzzling his head into her neck.

"Remember all the good times we had?" he murmured in her ear. He pulled away quickly, just as she started to relax into his embrace. "But I guess it doesn't really mean anything now."

Lily took a deep breath, looking away and waiting for her throat to stop constricting and her tears to melt away. "You're right. It doesn't mean anything. I should go."

Philip didn't meet her gaze. He bit at his bottom lip, a nervous habit he hadn't had at Hogwarts. It made him seem more human, somehow. His eyebrows dipped towards each other, a line forming between them. There was a quiet sadness about him that wasn't clear to anyone else but Lily. Lily was sure even Philip didn't detect it.

She turned and left, hesitated at the door, turned to see him still standing in the middle of a room with stark white walls and decorations that weren't his. His hands were deep in his pockets and his face was blank.

Lily closed the door behind her. Emptiness. Secrets can suck everything out of you, and she had been keeping this one for years. She couldn't even imagine the pain Albus must feel every day. Standing outside Philip's doorway, she remembered when she was younger and liked to wear lavender instead of black.

The door flew open behind her and she spun around. Philip stood there, a frenzied look in his eyes like maybe he was lost. Lily felt a little lost, too.

"Do you want – do you want some tea? I made some but I don't like tea. I don't know why I made it." Every word he said was stilted, like he was spitting it out despite his best effort not to, but then he seemed relieved by the time he was silent. Like yelling to get rid of the pain.

"Sure," she said, and he let her in.

They sat on the couch, thighs touching. Lily ignored the black felt picture frame backing and instead focused on the seam of Philip's pants. She didn't feel like drinking tea; it sat cold in the mug before her. The mug was a light pink and had the outline of a cat on it. Definitely not Philip's style.

"Can I say something awful?" Philip broke the silence.

"Sure."

"I don't want to marry Ava. I'm only marrying her because I knocked her up. I love her, but not like I used to."

Lily closed her eyes, partially horrified and partially relieved. He wasn't marrying her because he loved her. He was marrying her because he had to. He would be a dad, and probably a shitty one. He was living in a house that wasn't his. She could see pieces of Ava everywhere – in the lace curtains, in the burgundy accent pillows, in the stylish ottoman. The only odd pieces were Philip and Lily, and as much as they were different, Philip in his business casual attire and Lily in black leggings and an oversized red sweater with an 'A' on it that she'd stolen from Albus, they fit together better than he did, alone in this house.

"I'm so sorry, Philip," Lily said quietly.

"I think you understand me better than anyone ever has," he said. What a cheesy thing to say. Lily didn't know whether to fall for it or not.

"You're different now. I don't think I do."

"I'm not that different. I dress different and I give a fuck, but underneath, I still want the same things," he said. "I still don't know what the hell is happening. I still… want…"

It was quiet for a long time, and Lily was terrified to break the silence. She didn't know if she wanted to run or make him finish that damned sentence.

Philip took her hand in his and heat shot up her arm, like a fever. She felt as nervous and surprised as she did the first time he had touched her in third year.

"I don't want the same things. I've changed," Lily insisted, slipping her hand out from his. But she didn't stop him when he placed his hand around the back of her neck and looked her right in the eyes. He looked like an adult, but he still had that lost, hungry look in his eyes, just like a teenager.

"I think there's a reason you came here today, and it wasn't for drama. It's because you want to see me. You want me, just like I still want you. If you don't want this to happen, I won't push you. But don't lie to yourself."

"I want someone else." Lily's eyes suddenly flooded with tears. "I love someone else."

"But does he want you like I do? Does he know you like I do?" Philip kissed her, once.

As she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his, Lily remembered Scorpius, dancing with Rose. Lily remembered Pink Rabbits. Lily remembered pain. Philip pulled away and his eyes were so big they were all she could see.

"Kiss me," she said. He obliged.

Philip worshipped her body like he never had before, kissing her bare thighs and looking up at her with desperation. She squirmed and moaned as he performed with his mouth all the wonderful things she wanted and had gone so long without. Lily returned the favor until he grabbed her head and pulled her back up, kissing her and flipping her over, trying to get her on her back. Instead, she fell to the floor with a loud 'oof!' Hardly a second passed before he joined her on the floor, smothering her with kisses to drown out their laughing.

Philip said dirty things to her and teased her opening until she was begging, begging him, please. She didn't have to say please what, but he finally obeyed.

"Oh, god, Lily, I love you," he groaned, moving rapidly. He was lost, but this time he didn't seem so sad about it.

"Sc—," she stopped before the name slipped out. He didn't seem to notice, continuing to thrust and touch her eagerly. But she froze beneath him and shut her eyes tight. Suddenly, she didn't want this anymore, not at all. She was disgusted with Philip, and with herself. This wasn't the boy she wanted. This wasn't the boy she loved.

Philip pulled out and said, "Will you—?"

She knew what he was referring to, but she suddenly felt sick. "No, no. I can't – ," Lily rasped, crawling up onto the couch and searching for her clothes.

"Wait, what? What's wrong? What just happened?" He looked concerned but frustrated. He wanted to finish, but she was, quite literally, finished.

"I'm leaving. You're getting married, and you should – you should be with Ava," Lily said, trying to hold back unwarranted tears.

"I can't believe this!" Now Philip's frustration had turned to anger, once the confusion had dissipated. "It's him, isn't it? It's Scorpius."

Lily paused in her getting dressed. "Wait. How did you—?"

Philip handed her Albus' sweater, the last item of clothing she been searching for. He grabbed her hand as she reached for it, pulling him close so she could hear him speaking low.

"Scorpius doesn't love you, and you don't get to embarrass me. I could have any girl I want. You should be lucky to have someone like me. Don't come back here unless you want to actually stick around." He let her go, and as soon as he did, she pulled the sweater on.

Lily stormed off towards the door, and he followed her. He started to close it behind her but then stopped to say, "Scorpius is a piece of shit, if you ask me. Pussy-whipped by Rose and unwilling to believe he can be with anyone but her. Don't waste your time."

Lily went to James' apartment, not wanting to walk all the way back home. She knocked at his door and it took him almost ten minutes to finally answer her incessant knocking.

"Oh, hey," he said groggily. He merely wore boxers and wire-rimmed glasses that he only needed before he put on his contacts. They were crooked on his face.

"Can I crash for a bit? I don't want to walk back to Hogwarts," Lily said sheepishly.

"Yeah," he replied. He let her past and pointed to the couch. "There's a blanket in the hall closet. Do you want a pillow?"

"I'm fine with just a blanket."

"Good, because I don't have any more pillows to spare. I have a lady friend over."

"Ew. Go sleep," Lily said. She sighed and grabbed a stack of blankets from the closet, stacking two for a makeshift pillow and using the other two to wrap herself up like a burrito.

James' flat was eerily silent. She stared at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about too much. She tried not to think about the sting of seeing Rose and Scorpius so close, laughing and happy, like nothing had changed. Actually, if nothing had changed, they would be awkward and tense and smiling for show. But no, they were completely revived, giddy and sharing an energy that was purely… love.

Lily had wanted that for them. He was slowly breaking her heart in this way, giving her little bits of him to borrow when he would give all of himself to Rose in an instant. It was pure irony that she had felt something similar to this with Philip, and now that he admitted that he loved her, she wanted nothing to do with him. Time wasn't on her side.

"I love you." She sent these words into the air, a thought sent to Scorpius. Out of her system and into the ether, but as much as she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath and hoped she had let go, when she opened her eyes she still felt it: sorrow that came from loving someone who didn't love you back.

A/N: Hi, I am not a fan of lengthy (or any) author's notes but I felt I owed all my readers an apology for being a lazy af fic writer. Just btwn you & me, my life has sucked recently; oh, my loving readers, you probably don't care but my parents split up, we sold the house, both of my parents moved into different places, I got back into school, which I am trying really hard at but somehow still not happy with, and so I haven't had much motivation writing, being happy, or generally just being a functioning human. Every night I go to bed thinking about this story and what's going to happen but then I just don't… like… write it down? B/c I suck? Anyways I really wanted to post AT LEAST a chapter a month and I failed that simple goal. If anyone is reading this, I hope you're doing well. If you feel shitty, just know that you're not alone and there are people out there who love you, and count your blessings. I have been reminding myself this every day/every time I feel hopeless. Lol okay this has probably been the oddest author's note ever. Now go listen to some sad songs and cry, it personally makes me feel better. (Some good ones: Don't Wanna Be Your Girl by Wet, Smother by Daughter, Shiver by Lucy Rose, and Over You by Ingrid Michaelson actually has made me cry literal tears on several different occasions)

Scorpius love in the next chapter! Much love to you as well

-Ash