AN: Thank you for the few kind reviews! On to the next one. And I hate to say it, but we're coming close to the end. I do not own the wizarding world. Mistakes are mine.

Chapter 10: Late Nights

A week had passed since the attack on St. Mongo's and James still was not sleeping well. So there he sat, in Gryffindor common room in front of the fire, staring at the burning embers and wondering why this was affecting him so much. On the side table he caught a glimpse of a stray copy of the Prophet and picked it up. It was an old issue from two day ago. The paper had done a tribute to the twelve that had been killed, and there Clint Hunter smiled up at him from the second page. Clint Hunter – that was the name of the werewolf whom James had acquainted. Who had saved his life. He had read the write up a hundred times by now. Clint was twenty three, a Ministry law student who was fighting for justice for the families whose children were killed or turned by targeting werewolves. Apparently, someone had not taken well to his mission and had brutally attacked him at his home. That's what had brought him to Mongo's that fateful night. James had fought alongside him for only a few minutes, was shielded by him and exchanged a few words – that was it. James hadn't even gotten his name. But it was an interaction that instantly bonded them – a life or death interaction. Clint had died. And James had not.

He flipped through the pages once more, even though he knew all the faces. He had devoured that paper when it had first arrived one morning at breakfast, scanning the pages and praying that Jeremey's young face wouldn't be staring back at him. He hadn't been. Thank Merlin. The boy's fate had been haunting James for those few days when the names of the dead had not been released to the public. Following the paper, the next day he had received post from Jeremey and his father, thanking him and saying they were happy he was safe. They also didn't include James's t-shirt he had given the boy. Jeremey's father had stated it was currently helping the boy sleep at night. James wished it was that easy for himself.

He was startled from his thoughts by someone descending the staircase. He glanced around and was met with the sight of none other than his favorite red head – Lily Evans. She smiled when she saw him.

"Potter, what are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Sirius is snoring again. He has spring allergies." It wasn't a total lie.

Lily didn't buy it, but she played along none the less, "Ah, I'm not surprised. He is quite delicate."

"He really is… And what has you up?" James asked politely.

Lily sighed and plopped a book on a table, "Charms essay. I just remembered."

"Mmm. You know, I always thought you were much more put together than you actually are."

Lily laughed, "Charming Potter, as usual." Then she took a moment to study him. His stiff demeanor, pale face, dark eyes, and the Prophet lying open on his lap with the faces of the dead smiling up at him.

Her eyes narrowed in worry, "James, are you alright?"

James shut the paper and waved her off, "Yeah. Everything healed up nicely. Like brand new. Those green robes at St. Mongo's really know what they're doing."

Lily hesitated but before she could say anything else, James stood up, "I think I'll go for a walk. Tire myself out enough to sleep through the chainsaw upstairs."

And Lily watched concerned as he abruptly left.

The next night James came down the boys' staircase after midnight, and Lily was seated on the common room couch reading a book. She simply smiled at him, and he nodded – not quite trusting his voice – and took a seat himself. After a few minutes he asked what she was reading, and she shifted so he could read the pages too. And they sat there for a few hours, both reading the book silently – James realized he was a quicker reader than her, having to wait a bit for her to turn the pages – until Lily began to doze off and James shut the book.

The night following that, James did not even attempt to go into his dorm room because his mind was working in overdrive, replaying events and possible scenarios from that night at the hospital. So he sat at a table, playing wizard's chess against himself for a distraction. Lily descended her own staircase just as his white bishop had said to him incredulously, "You want me to move where?!"

This time she held a lump of yarn in her hand and she claimed she was behind on knitting her mother a tea cozy for her birthday. James started to suspect her constant late night presence, but didn't question her. Her company was honestly soothing. Lily put on the wireless radio and James eventually dozed off peacefully in his chair to the sounds of music and the clicking of knitting needles.

The next night, things weren't so pleasant and James awoke and remembered why he was so tired. At 2am the messy haired boy had been jarred from a nightmare in which he had watched Clint get the Cruciatus curse cast upon him. But it was as if Clint and himself had had an empathetic connection, and James could feel every nerve of his body on fire. Then the pain had abruptly stopped, Clint had looked over at him and asked with a smile, "You think there's still some good left in me?" Before James could answer ("Yes! Of course!"), a blinding flash of green filled his vision and Clint dropped like a rag doll.

James sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf. After a few moments he realized his heaving wasn't letting up. Numerous thoughts ran through his mind – would Clint have died if he hadn't helped James? Would he have been in a different place at a different time? Was Clint just too reckless with his own life? Had James not made it clear enough that he had reason to live with his new condition?

These questions ran at high speed through his mind and James stumbled out of bed, needing to expand his lungs and get some fresh air. He rushed down the stairs, but as James reached the first landing he saw the red hair of Lily Evans sitting in one of the arm chairs. He abruptly turned around, making to go back up the staircase but hesitated, realizing he couldn't. He couldn't wake Sirius, Remus, and Peter in this state. He was trapped in limbo.

"Potter?" He heard Lily ask.

He kept his back turned, trying to get his breathing under control.

"James? Are you alright?" Her tone had changed to one of concern, and James scrambled to pull himself together. But he couldn't. He did not know what was happening to him, but there was a huge weight on his chest, his lungs weren't working properly, his entire body was quaking, and Clint's ragged face kept flashing through is mind. James buried his hands in his hair and began to tug, thinking the subtle pain might ground him.

"James?" Lily asked softly, now directly behind him and placing her hand on his shoulder to spin him around, "James? What's wrong? Talk to me."

James glanced at her and then squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving like he had run a marathon, but no air getting into his lungs. He was hyperventilating. And he was so embarrassed.

"If I talk – " his chest rapidly expanded on his sharp intake of breath, "I can't breathe."

Lily stood there panicked, James was obviously suffering and she didn't know what to do. This was worse than his injury in Defense class, because she didn't see anything physical she could fix. He was struggling for breath like a child with asthma and was trembling all over. Impulsively, because she couldn't stand to see him in any more anguish, Lily stepped forward and tugged his hands from his hair. She hesitated a moment before wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

James's arms immediately came up and clung to the back of Lily's sweater, the fabric balling in his hands as his chest heaved. Lily could feel the tautness of his body, the subtle quaking of his bones. She could feel him internalizing.

James felt Lily move one hand to the base of his neck and begin to card through his hair as he buried his face in her shoulder and fought for breath, struggling to pull himself together as his emotions and thoughts ran wild.

"James, just let go." He heard her whisper, "Let it go. It's okay."

And suddenly he was sobbing. All the fear he had been keeping in since he reassured Jeremey under that bed in St. Mongo's overtook him. Be brave, he had said. Be a Gryffindor. He was telling himself that as much as the young boy. All the panic he felt dueling experienced wizards. The bodies on the floor. The guilt over Clint's death. The unbelievable pain of the Cruciatus curse. Every emotion that had been clawing at James's throat for the last week came out. And at first, it was even harder to breath. But he clung to Lily, and she continued to rub soothing motions on his back and neck, and soon his sobbing became less violent and his breath still hitched but he was getting oxygen. And his raging emotional scene calmed down enough that he was aware of himself. Aware that he had been sobbing into Lily Evan's shoulder. Aware that he may have just had a panic attack – he wasn't totally sure what had just transpired.

Aware and absolutely mortified.

Without warning James broke from Lily's embrace and continued down the rest of the stairs, resting on the couch and burying his face in his hands. His chest was still annoyingly hitching though his breathing was mostly under control, and only his hands were subtly shaking now. He felt the couch cushion next to him sink down and knew Lily had followed. She had too kind a soul for her own good, and he wished she would just let him to be embarrassed alone.

A few moments passed and she didn't speak. Gathering up his courage James sighed and removed his face from his hands, burying them under his legs so his companion wouldn't see them trembling.

"I'm sorry, Lily." He said softly, not meeting her eyes, "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot."

James let out a bitter laugh, "I am. I'm so embarrassed." He shook his head, "And how am I supposed to fight in this war if I fall to pieces if I see any action?"

Lily didn't hesitate in her response, "I'll help you through it. We'll face it together."

James finally met her eyes, brow furrowed in a question.

"This is my fight, James. It's about who I am – a mudblood. I'm not going to let you just go out there while I hide."

"Don't call yourself that."

Lily ignored him and shrugged, "I expect we'll all have the same reaction as you at some point. You just got there a little earlier than the rest of us."

James nodded silently.

Lily spoke up again, "Is this about something more, James?" She hesitated and her eyes strayed to that copy of the Daily Prophet, still lying on the side table. "Did you know someone who – "

She trailed off, but James knew exactly what she was asking. He nodded again.

"I hope you're not feeling guilty…"

"He saved my life." James said simply, "His name was Clint. I didn't know that at the time. That stupid paper gave me the name. All I knew was that I recognized the markings he had – the scratches. He was in for a werewolf attack. And he just seemed so discouraged about it. I know you know about Remus – you're not stupid. And maybe I could have done more to let him know that he still had a life worth living. I think he was being reckless – maybe purposefully. And I don't want Remus to ever feel that way, I know he gets down on himself. Or...or maybe if I hadn't distracted Clint, he would have been in a different place and wouldn't have died. And I just –" His breathing had sped up as he rambled, and Lily could see him getting visibly upset.

She hugged him again because before it seemed to have calmed him down and she whispered, "It's not your fault, James. Don't you feel guilty. Don't. It's not your fault. Nothing is your fault. But you can be thankful; you can remember him and honor him. But don't you feel guilty about still being here."

James nodded, breathing deeply to regain control and pulled away.

"And Remus knows he has friends here. I've seen you make sure of that."

"Thank you, Lily." He never thought he had spoken more sincere words.

The corners of Lily's mouth turned up in a small smile at him, "I'm glad you're still here."

After that night, James slowly started to catch up on his sleep. Lily continued to keep a close eye on him, which all their friends seemed to notice. Sometimes they would even walk the grounds together, chatting and laughing. Something had clearly changed between them, and it bewildered everyone including the two it involved the most.

AN: I hope it doesn't seem that James and Lily's friendship is moving too fast. But this story is really focused moments of Lily and James developing their friendship from that first moment in the hospital wing a few weeks into school and then over the course of the rest of school year. And we're getting towards the tail end of spring here! let me know what you think.