January passed slowly. Not that James much noticed the calendar anymore, but he could tell it was still January because of the thick layers of snow that covered the grounds and soaked his robes when he snuck out to the Hogsmeade villlage. He could tell because the bars were still crowded, and almost always with the usual unoccupied, bored people of winter, itching for something entertaining. He could tell because when he hit the wooden floor from the latest punch or curse, it was cold and wet from the entering boots. He could tell because at the end of a fight outside, when the woman would whisper comments such as "Perhaps you're not as pathetic as I thought, Potter" or "Savour it while it lasts", he could see her breath out of the corner of his eye. It had to be January, because he'd been able to catch a glimpse of a thick black cloak with the hood up, and only in January could one go around unnoticed in one.

But most of all, James knew it was January because the few times that he did attend class that month, Dorcas Meadowes could not stop talking about Lily Evans' birthday party.

Dorcas was Lily's best mate, from what James could tell, and she had also been Sirius' girlfriend up until Christmas vacation. Dorcas must've known that Sirius had been close to Mrs. Potter, because she was certainly giving him space, but even Remus had confessed he had no idea where they stood. Sirius wasn't really flirting with other girls, but, then again, he seemed to be spending most of his time trying to cheer James up.

"Mate, come on, let's get Snivellus after class," Sirius said, chopping rat spleen. Remus had reminded him three times that the potion didn't call for any rat spleen, but it was obvious that Sirius was just doing it to look productive.

"No," James said quickly. "Don't you think that we're above that, now?"

"What is that supposed to mean? 'We're above that'? Merlin, you sound like Evans, Prongs."

"Come off it. I just mean that we've been taking on way bigger guys at Hogsmeade. Why don't we go there after class?" As soon as James spoke, the other Marauders shared a look that he knew meant the rest of the conversation had been practically scripted.

"You've been going there a lot lately," Peter said monotonously. Remus rolled his nodded, deciding to stir the potion before him for the hell of it.

"So?"

"I don't think it's the best way for you to handle you're grief, James," Remus confessed, taking control of the situation.

"Getting drunk, getting in fights all the bloody time. It's not healthy."

James resisted the urge to whirl around in his chair. "You were fine with it before!"

"Yeah, well... I thought it was going to be a one-time thing. But then you just kept going, and you've gotten a bit knocked up, Prongs."He could suddenly feel the ache in his stomach, where a curse had hit him yesterday.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Moony. I'm fine." He could not remember saying something so resoundingly untrue.

"I agree with Remus."Surprisingly, it was neither Peter nor Sirius who said it, but Lily Evans. She turned around in her chair to face James from across the aisle, completely unabashed that she had been eavesdropping.

"Who asked you?" James heard himself asking.

"I thought that maybe you'd like another perspective," she said carefully. James gave up stirring the potion, which was supposed to be maroon and was instead evergreen. It was apparant that they weren't trying.

"I don't, but thanks for thinking of me." He meant it to come across bitter and resentful, but instead it came out sincere and pitiful. He inwardly winced.

Lily turned around to make sure that Slughorn was still busy helping Quincy Waverly with his potion, and scooted her chair next to James'. He looked up to tell her off, but instead he was only stunned by her grasping his hand. He waited for the inevitable electric shock to slide up his arm, or the sudden warmth to envelop his fingers, but instead her hand seemed nothing more than dead weight. He couldn't focus on what she was saying, he was too distracted by the lack of feeling and the peeling paint off her fingernails. James remembered thinking how cool it was that she never fixed herself up while talking to someone, the way other girls did, as if their beauty maintenence was the same priority as anything their friends had to say. Now, James wondered that he ever noticed that at all.

Anger flared inside of him, furious that this grief had taken so much. He didn't feel anything except this overwhelming sorrow and regret, it had stolen every other emotion inside of him. He felt ridiculous for taking this so badly; he had known that his mother was going to die for some time now, he should've been prepared, he should have braced himself somehow. He should have played his hand for what it was, instead of going for this outrageous bluff of a perfect reality. Like everyone else, his bluff had to be called sometime. He didn't know why he had once thought himself above it.

"... I understand why you want to wallow in this, but-"

The classroom suddenly came back at full focus, and her words were very clear and audible. "You understand? How could you possibly understand?" His voice achieved the desired effect this time. It was sharp and bitter, and perhaps anyone but Lily would have taken the hint. Instead, her hand remained where it always had a way of shaking the emotion out of him, positive or negative. The fury he suddenly felt rise up within him was misdirected and unfounded, but he still wanted to yell at her. She didn't know. There was no way she could know what he was feeling. James' problem wasn't regular teenage moodiness. Lily might have been down or depressed once in a while, but did she have any idea what it felt like to dream about a dead mother every night?

And then James recalled the beginning of last year, where Lily had become withdrawn and apathetic, where requests for a date were not met with a shouting match but with a resigned refusal. It was when Remus had received better grades on Charms tests than her, when Dorcas never seemed to leave her side, when she had refused to read the Daily Prophet. She hadn't sucked on Sugar Quills, and she couldn't be found in the library, only in her dormitory, between classes. Her hair had lacked its usual smooth glean of care, and her eyes that had burned so vivaciously before had become rather dull. She had arrived to class two minutes late rather than two minutes early, and charm bracelet that she had used to wear all the time had been suddenly "lost" over the summer holidays. These were things that most people hadn't noticed, but James had asked about each one, and always received touchy glares in return. He and Sirius had collectively attributed it to PMS, but now James felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

"Where's the James Potter that confronts every feeling, who doesn't avoid any issue?"

James didn't say anything when he stared back at Lily. The moment was meant to be one of understanding, but James got the sense it was more awkward than anything else. He swallowed, opening his mouth to say something, but the bell rang. It wasn't jarring, it was as if this interruption was scripted, as if he had known that the bell would prevent him from saying anything. Because, really, how could he possibly respond to this revelation?

Lily nodded in a way of good-bye. He didn't notice when her hand left Marauders were the last to leave the classroom, so James could only barely see Dorcas and Lily at the head of the lunch crowd, Amos Diggory's arm around the latter. He ruffled his hair, barely hearing Sirius' words.

"Come on, Snivellus isn't gonna go to lunch, Prongs, he'll head off to the library like the reclusive git he is. We can get him there, come on, it'll be fun."

"No." His tone was final, and, while Peter accepted it instantly and Sirius looked disappointed, James saw Remus beam proudly for only a moment. Even though James knew Remus was only guessing as to his motives, he knew they were right. He wasn't handling his mother's death right. What Lily said was true, he should be dealing with this directly, not hiding it beneath alcohol and fights and snogs from older women.

"I'll catch up with you guys later," James said. He shoved his way through the crowd, looking for a sign of Lily, whether it be red hair or a useless pretty boy or a gossipping best friend. It was a role he knew, a game he played numerous times before, except now it wasn't about a date in Hogsmeade, it was about something bigger. He felt as if all these revelations had happened so quickly, but, just like the bell to end Potions, his next words were scripted."Lily, can we talk?"

She turned, and James knew exactly what came next. Because, even if she still detested him, even if she thought that he was immature and stupid for skipping class, or a perfect little rich boy that didn't know how to deal with anything bad in his life, that wouldn't change what she said next. She was too caring, too nice to ever consider turning him down on this proposal. James might not believe in a dealer for this game anymore, but he still believed that all cards had a set value, that they all were made to be played a certain way.

"Yeah, okay, James. Just let me grab a sandwich or something first, okay?"

He nodded, but backed away from the Great Hall doors. He wasn't hungry. The Marauders tried to coax him to lunch as they passed, but he waved them off. He leaned against the stone walls, watching as the last stragglers to lunch went through the doors. Several girls tried to make eye contact with him, but he ignored them. Lily came out a few minutes later, sandwich in hand.

"Do you want a bite?"

"I'm fine."

Lily grimaced, letting James know that she didn't believe it.

"Do you mind walking?" he asked.

"No, let's go."

They left the castle, but the cold wet drizzle of January forced them back inside before either could really say anything. They settled for walking along the corridors instead, James' hand running along the grooves in the stone as Lily ate her sandwich. She had just finished when James had gathered up the nerve to start."How'd it happen?"

"How did what happen?"

"You know... who died last year?"

Lily broke eye contact gradually, staring at the floor. "My mum. It was a car crash... It's like a Muggle thing that they use to get around. Anyway, my mum's car ran into someone else's and..." She didn't have to finish her sentence. James didn't really know what a car was, or how a car crash worked, but he knew that it had killed Lily's mother. "It was so quick," Lily said. "It was over holiday, and I was fighting with my sister, and then my dad came in and told us. She was fine that morning, she was totally normal. She made breakfast for us everything. And then she just... wasn't there anymore." But before James could say anything else, Lily looked him in the eye. "Your turn."

James swallowed and blinked slowly. His voice sounded muffled at first, but it cleared as he went on. "It wasn't quick. I mean, when she actually died it was... quick, but it started when I was thirteen. She started coughing more, and then she started going in and out of St. Mungo's. My mum... she was so old. I just... She wasn't ready to go. I wasn't ready to let her go. Nothing good came out of her death, there wasn't some larger purpose or anything. She was my mum and now she's dead! She's-" He could feel the tears building up in his eyes, and he cut himself off to avoid any embarrassment. Lily was noticeably checking if he was crying, so he turned away."I miss her," he whispered. "I didn't see my mum that much, but it was more that I could've if I wanted to, you know?"Lily grabbed his arm, stopping him in his path. He instinctively turned, and a second later her arms were wrapped around him.

"I'm sorry that your mum is dead, James. She sounded like a great woman."

"She was." He hated that he had to use the past tense now to describe her. That dreadful "ed" had been attached to everything he said about her now, instead of that comforting, casual "s".

"You can cry if you want to," Lily suggested.

"What?" he pulled away, blinking away the tears, trying to grin. "I don't want to cry, okay? Especially-"

"Especially what? Especially in front of me? Because I'm a girl and you're supposed to be the big, macho guy that holds it all in and comforts the girl when she cries? Well, I'm not crying, James. I'm just as hurt by my mother's death as you are, and it doesn't really go away. You just compensate, you just keep going. But I did cry James, and you can't-"

"I'm not crying, okay? I'm fine, I don't need to cry," he insisted, walking away. His strides were much longer than hers, and she was left trailing behind him.

"Come on, come back," Lily called.

"No."

"Potter! James!"

"Go away."

"Don't be a dolt! Tell me what's wrong!"

"Why don't you ask the Giant Squid?" he replied, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he saw a flash of Lily in emerald green dress robes, of Remus holding a rabbit, falling down the Astronomy Tower, a bat flying across the moon, and his mother's body flying through the water...He stopped and turned.

"How did you know?"

"How did I know what?" she asked, her face perplexed.

"I dreamed this, this conversation. It happened in a dream."

"What? Are you okay, James?"She grasped his hand, but she had no superhuman force like she did in the dream. She was not trying to lead him anywhere, and he didn't want to go with her. But the strength of her hand was not physical might, it was that James could feel the smallest shock shoot up to his elbow.

"No," he admitted on impulse. "But I can't be. Right now."

Lily let go of his hand and he walked away. He didn't know if she stood there and watched him round the corner, but, despite the shock, he found he didn't care.

But the power of her hand lasted, all through his classes and dinner, and the evening Exploding Snap game he played with Peter, making him think that maybe he could get over this the right way. That maybe there could be more to his life, that he could go back to shock lasted until he fell asleep and he saw his mother's empty eyes. It lasted until he woke up in a with sweat sticking him to the sheets, with tears running down his face. It lasted until he had to accept another sleepless night, until he had to accept the coldness of reality and the stone floor as his feet touched it.

The next few hours became a blur. He wasn't sure what truly destroyed his memory of the morning, the alcohol or the pink crystals that one of his companions called "Puff the Magic Dragon". Or maybe it was the bottle that shattered against his skull, or the impact of the wall when a curse had thrown him back. But for some reason he remembered her words.

"You can't win this."

"Surprising. You prove more determined than I previously thought."

"He can't breathe very well, can he?"

"You didn't even need my help with that one."

"Be creative, Potter, don't go for the obvious."

He remembered climbing up the passageway with a cut lip and a bruised hand. He remembered thinking that he really should have some Quidditch practice soon. He remembered entering the Common Room at five in the morning and Dorcas Meadowes fussing over his lip.

James recalled her talking about her problems with Sirius to him. He recalled her at least attempting to heal his injuries.

What James didn't recall was how she ended up in his bed the next morning.