I still do not own the characters within, nor do I own Queen (shame)… *sniffle*
A.N- Anyway, to clarify this story is related to, but not a continuation of the last, although certain ideas and themes will appear later (I hope). This one is based around James.
Part Two – One Vision.
Hot tears stabbed painfully at his eyes. His teeth were clenched, his cheeks red-hot with impotent rage. He made a sound half-way between a growl and a scream before the first treacherous tear rolled down his face. Before more could follow in its wake he roughly rubbed at his face with his palms. His glasses clattered loudly onto the desk as he pressed the balls of his hands in on his closed eyes.
James Potter was heartbroken. Again.
Once a day, twice on Saturdays, she would rip out his heart and declare it inferior. She didn't believe his feelings were genuine. The Great Lily Evans had decided 'someone like him' couldn't know what love was. 'Someone like him.' What the fuck did that mean, anyway? She didn't even know him. She didn't know him but she judged and belittled him. He knew he should have hated her for it. He should have but he didn't. He couldn't. He was more in love with her every day.
Sometimes, in a fit of decidedly girly paranoia, James would be convinced that he rattled when he walked. He was certain others could hear the broken heart-pieces crashing and tinkling against his ribcage as he walked straight-backed and seemingly light-hearted away from the scene of another harrowing denial.
No one at Hogwarts fully understood how much James loved Lily or how hurt he really was, except for the three people who could always see straight through his bravado (Remus' fancy word for bullshit). The Marauders. Of course none of this was ever actually discussed, but James knew it whenever Sirius would quietly reassure him that in the end she would 'come 'round', he knew from Peter's fumbling yet heartfelt and often appreciated attempts at changing the subject, and he knew when Remus would catch his eye and give him a look that clearly stated 'I know exactly how you feel about her, there is nothing else that matters as much as her in this world, and it's tearing you apart and I would never, ever, in a million years say anything as girly as this out loud, but I'm here for you mate.'
Lily seemed to delight in telling James that he had an inflated ego, once she had claimed that it had trouble fitting into the Northern hemisphere, but the truth was simple. Every day Lily Evans knocked down the blocks that made James Potter and every night he would rebuild. But the bricks were, for the most part, illusory. He was losing himself, slowly ebbing away, and he couldn't help it.
Once, in a moment of desperation, James had asked Remus what he had to do, what he had to change to get her to love him back. Remus had regarded him sadly before he shook his head and said
"James, if she can't see that James Potter, Quidditch chaser extraordinaire, Marauder, Slytherin hexing James Potter is the same man as helping-hand , good Samaritan, big hearted best mate James Potter then, quite frankly, she doesn't deserve you, mate. The fault is hers"
He paused for a second and thought before he added "Wouldn't hurt to call her 'Lily' instead of 'Evans', though."
James sat in the library, in the dimming Sunday afternoon light mulling things over. After a while he walked, head down, through the myriad of tunnels, suddenly feeling rather tired. It was this sleepiness that prevented him from lifting his head and looking where he was going. And it was because he wasn't looking he didn't see who he bumped into as he rounded a corridor on the third floor. He was bumbling an apology the unknown person when a familiar voice cut him to the quick.
"Potter! Is this another of your hair-brained schemes to get me to go out with you, or have you graduated to blatant fumbling? Go and find someone else to bother for a while, I'm sick of being your amusement!"
James saw red.
"FUCK YOU, Evans! Do you actually think that I enjoy it when you declare at the top of your lungs that I'm not fit to lick your boots? Do you honestly believe I relish having my heart broken on a daily basis? It's not a fucking hobby for me! It's not jest! Do you honestly not see it? FIVE YEARS! Five years of you judging me and not giving me one chance. NOT ONE! A smarter man would have given up by now. Not James Potter. Not pig-headed Potter. He can't help it. And you don't see it…"
James stopped yelling and stared at Lily, tears streaming down his face. He looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.
"You don't see me…" he whispered before he turned and sprinted for the safety of his bed.
Lily stared after him. She had never realised just how like Petunia she was. Everything James had said had gone through her. She forgot where she was going and set off instead to find Remus, and clarification.
Lily found Remus laying alone, on his stomach, in front of an essay, in front of a fire in the Gryffindor common room.
"He really does love me." She breathed as she sank into a nearby chair.
"Finally figured that out, have you?" He replied without looking over to her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly.
"What was I to say? 'His love for you burns with the power of a thousand suns'?" He looked at her now and said "Besides, he's told you every day since half way through first year."
He said that last bit calmly, no malice, no sarcasm, no accusation. It was what it was. If Remus knew without a shadow of a doubt then it must be true. Lily felt horrible. She told Remus of what had transpired.
"What do I do?" she asked.
He was sitting next to her now. "What do you want to do?"
It was a simple question. The answer, however, was complicated.
"I don't know. I haven't given him a chance at all, have I?"
"No. You haven't."
Lily looked lost again, and was about to apologise to Remus when he held up a silencing hand.
"Watch him. Truly watch the real James Potter. If you like what you see, say yes next time."
"What if I've blown it and he doesn't ask me?"
Remus shook his head "You could ask him, if necessary." He shook his head again, kissed her on her forehead and went up the stairs to bed.
Lily Evans did a lot of thinking that night and a lot of watching over the next few days.
On Monday Lily saw James dry the tears of a Hufflepuff first-year after she had a particularly nasty run-in with Peeves.
On Tuesday she saw him attack a Slytherin fourth-year in the hall between classes, only this time she saw that it was only in retaliation, the fourth year was about to aim a hex at Peter's exposed back.
On Wednesday she watched him play Quidditch and saw that what she had taken to be show-boating was in fact sheer elation at being in the air, playing a game he loved.
On Thursday she caught a glimpse of the quiet, reflective boy beneath all that hair-ruffling.
Day by day she realised just how wrong she had been. Finally she liked what she saw. Finally she was ready to say yes.
Only problem was, he'd stopped asking.
James had decided that Sunday night that it was time to face facts. Though he would never stop loving Lily it was time to stop the nonsense. She'd never relent, especially not after that outburst, so it was time to stop making a spectacle of them both. It was his problem and it was no longer to be played out in the public domain.
So it came as quite a shock to him on Thursday when Lily smiled at him and said a polite "hello" as they passed in the hall between lessons.
He was surprised the following Wednesday to discover that not only were they walking to potions together, but they were also having a pleasant, easy conversation. She even laughed at his terrible hippogriff joke.
He was taken aback later hen she enlisted his help with a transfiguration assignment and they spent a lovely Saturday afternoon together in the library.
Even after all this you could have knocked him down with a feather at breakfast one morning when Lily stood up on the house table, and in a recreation of James' first attempt at wooing her shouted, "Potter! Gooutwi'me?" Before she turned an impressive shade of red and sat down again.
In the deafening silence that followed all that could be heard was a chuckle from Dumbledore. He clapped appreciatively and said "Well boy, kiss her before the eggs get cold."
James Potter was never the kind of man to disobey and order from Dumbledore himself.