A/N: Thanks to last week's reviewers (almost hit 40 this time!): Meeeee, NathyMoony, peridot82697, TechnoGlitter ExWhimsicalFairy, AliLuvsAlliSirius, dancer987, EchoNightFall22, Dancethroughlife, angelofdarknessburningflame, Kiley 1 09, WobblyJelly, i3fiction, jak23, GiantPurpleRing, kikicakes XD, ottoismydog, skazmi, theycallherkaush, emotionsonhold, Evisawesome, Silver Scorpion, DarlingILoveYou, .forever2116, Tabbycat270, MinisterKingsley, Spot123, steel-trap, Marinewife08, Ami Ukiyo, SeriouslySiriusBlack, MaryandMerlin, Sunset on Heartache, Elless, PoseidonsLittleGirl, angiedotdotla, BrokenFaerie16, vampire5596, and teteeee!

Hope you all had a lovely New Year, and did something cool on 1/1/11 ;) (preferably at 11:11….)

So, quick recap (as if you might have forgotten where we left off):

"You think we'll still be dating in a year?" A.J. interrupted, his voice carefully casual.

I hadn't really noticed I was implying just that, but instead of answering the question, I asked "Don't you?"

"I certainly hope so, because—" He stopped, and so did the scratching of his quill. I bent my head back to look at him again, and was surprised to find him gazing at me intently. "Lily, I love you."

Chapter 22: All About the Love

I sat up so quickly that I knocked into A.J.'s elbow, causing him to draw a long line of ink across his notes. He didn't notice, however, intent as he was on my reaction.

"What?" I asked stupidly. A.J. didn't reply, but his left eyebrow twitched up slightly as if to say 'you heard me.' Which I had, loud and (frighteningly) clear. After a pause, I asked what was possibly an even stupider question, "Are you sure?"

A.J. grinned at that. "'Course—it's not exactly something a bloke throws around lightly, you know."

Unless he's trying to get into a girl's knickers, I thought. But I felt it was somewhat inappropriate to broach that argument now. Plus, that applied more to sleazy, un-decent blokes, not A.J. "Oh, well . . . okay then. Um, I don't—er, thanks?" I shook my head, blushing. "Merlin, that sounds—you know how bad I am at this kind—well, I'm shutting up before I make a bigger prat of myself." My blush deepened and I fought the urge to bury my face in my hands.

A.J. was laughing now, though quietly since we were in the library. "You really are awful at this relationship business, aren't you?" I would have been offended, but I knew he was teasing. Plus, it was true. "But that's partly why I lo—"

"Please don't say it again," I cut in hurriedly. I winced as a hurt look flashed through his eyes. "I mean," I went on quickly, "I don't mind that you said it—it's . . . nice—" I winced again, wishing I was better at this, "but I—it makes me feel guilty because I don't—at least, I'm not sure if I—"

To my relief, A.J. smiled again. "It's okay—you don't have to say it back. I just thought you should know."

"Right," I said, my insides still squirming uncomfortably. As A.J. started to turn back to his notes, I leaned forward and kissed him. "I do know that I really like you. A lot." I frowned. "Well, that was kind of repetitive, but you kn—" A.J.—thankfully—interrupted my idiotic rambling by kissing me back.

"Good," he said, returning his gaze to the parchment balanced on his knees with a slightly amused smile.

I lay back against his leg once more, but though I stared at my open Charms book, I could no longer focus on the words. We've known each other for what, three months? And I mean, three months since we met. So how could he possibly love me? I'd meant what I said—I really did like him a lot, but now I felt like he'd . . . raised the stakes, or something. And though I knew he hadn't meant it to, it put a lot of pressure on me. Now every time I saw him, I'd know he had stronger feelings for me than I had for him, and I feared it would make things . . . weird between us.

As it turned out, however, my problems with Remus were sufficiently distracting to leave me little time to worry about my boyfriend's recent profession of love. It still hurt to pass Remus in the hall and feel invisible because he acted like he hadn't seen me. Or worse, he shot me another one of what I'd dubbed his 'dead to me' looks.

Add to that the fact that the Marauders had unofficially sided with Remus again, and my life had taken a significant turn for the worse. Not that I blamed James, Sirius and Peter for being unwilling to turn on their best mate in support of the girl who had almost shared his most dangerous secret with the entire school. And even though I knew that they—or at least, Sirius and James, because Peter rarely chose sides in any argument—hadn't stopped thinking Remus should forgive me, they'd quit trying to actively convince him of it. Again, understandable, but it was still rotten, because—and this was the hardest to admit—I actually missed being around the four of them.

Of course, I'd never tell anyone that, so when I ran into James sans his usual entourage after break on Friday, I did my best to hide my excessive happiness.

"Hello Lilykins," James said pleasantly.

That was distracting enough to wipe said happiness from my expression. "I'm sorry, what did you just call me?"

"Hmm, you're right, that didn't sound quite right . . . well, I'll just have to come up with another nickname for you."

"And why do I need a nickname?"

James just shrugged, smirking. "Anyway, long time no see, eh?"

"Yeah, it's been a good week," I replied with a sweet smile.

"Ouch, Evans."

"I guess I'm—" I stopped as we neared the Great Hall, realizing that if I kept walking with James, I'd likely run into Remus. Plus, I didn't think I could handle another meal with Mary and A.J.—they made me feel doubly guilty because one, I didn't love A.J., and two, I hadn't told Mary about any of it. I mean, confessions of love were prime best girlfriend-sharing material, and I hadn't told her. She would most likely murder me when she found out that I'd kept it from her, and yet, I was still putting it off.

"You're what?" James asked. "Speechless in my presence? Because I know—"

"Can you do me a favor?" I interrupted.

"Depends—does it involve anything dangerous or illegal?"

I frowned. "No."

"Then sorry, I can't help you," James said with a grin.

"I'm serious, okay?" I said with a sigh.

"All right—I'm seriously listening," he replied, though still with the hint of a smile.

"Could you—I mean, would you mind bringing me something to eat in the library? You know, just whatever's easiest to carry out—it's just, I have to study—"

"By which you mean you'd like to avoid . . . someone," James said, now without any upward tilt to his lips.

"A couple of someones, actually," I muttered. Sighing again, I added, "Look, I know it's cowardly, but I—"

"No, it's not cowardly," James assured me, and I wasn't sure if he meant it or if he was just saying that, but I appreciated it all the same. "Although, you know you could just nip down to the kitchens, whose location I, out of the unfathomable kindness of my heart, have bestowed upon you," he added with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but I don't think it'd really be fair to the house elves, giving them extra work just because I don't want to face my problems."

James regarded me thoughtfully for a moment. "Or we could go to Hogsmeade."

"What?"

"For lunch," he clarified.

I snorted, but James just raised his eyebrows. "Wait, you're serious?" I asked. "I guess we could . . . but we don't really have time to make it down there and back, do we?"

"We do if we aren't planning on attending Potions this afternoon."

To my utter surprise, I found myself seriously considering this proposal. "I suppose Potions is the class I'd be least likely to get detention for skipping," I finally said slowly. "Besides, it is Friday," I added as an afterthought.

James grinned. "I knew we'd make a rebel out of you yet, Evans."

Just a testament to how shitty my week has been. But all I said aloud was, "Tapestry of those eighteenth century wizards, right?"

After we'd ducked behind the tapestry and James had pried open the hidden door, he turned to me questioningly. "Ladies first?" he offered in a whisper.

I peered into the darkness beyond. "Um, no, you can go down the dark creepy tunnel before me."

James smirked. "All right, then." He crawled in, calling back to me, "Remember that you have to crouch a bit first before it opens up, so watch your head."

"Right," I muttered, wondering again if this was a bad idea. I mean, probably, since it involved breaking the rules and James Potter, but . . . ah, what the hell, right? Lighting my wand tip, I stuck my head into the hole to follow James. Pausing, I suddenly remembered our conversation about the secret passageways out of the castle last month. James had mentioned some of them weren't in use any more because they'd collapsed . . . "How likely is it that this will fall in on us?" I called, only half in jest. But James didn't answer, so I merely sighed and pulled the rest of my body in after my head. Soon, as James had promised, I reached the point where the tunnel widened, and I was able to straighten up.

"So, off to Hogsmeade?" he asked as I brushed the dirt off my knees, tucking something into his pocket.

My eyes followed the movement, but I decided not to question it. Instead, I just grinned and said, "Lead on, good sir."

OOOOOOOO

As James had told me when he'd sprung me out of detention, the passage we'd chosen came out around a bend past the main part of the village. Watching James replace the small boulder we'd shoved aside to get out and seeing how seamlessly it fit into the hole, I said, "I'd never in a million years guess this was here. Remind me how you found it again?"

James grinned. "If I told you that, I really would have to kill you."

"Fine. So, where's the best lunch around these parts?"

We ended up in the Three Broomsticks, where James ordered us two fish and chips and two butterbeers. I was suddenly struck by how much this resembled a date, and was glad when James distracted me by asking, "So, why are you avoiding A.J.?"

"What? How do you know I'm avoiding him?"

"Well, you said you were avoiding 'a couple someones,' and by process of elimination . . . plus, you pretty much just confirmed it." He smirked annoyingly at me.

I glared at him. "You're really good at butting into things that are none of your business, you know."

"One of my many endearing qualities."

"Of course," I agreed sarcastically, popping a chip into my mouth.

"So?" James prompted.

"I'm really not going to talk with you about this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not—I mean, it's kind of . . . personal."

"Well, as it has to do with your boyfriend, I figured as much."

I raised an eyebrow. "And this doesn't deter you at all?"

"What do you think?"

"You know that most people—specifically, most friends—would take the hint and leave it alone."

"Okay, you're right," James said with a sigh. Then he grinned and added, "So, why are you avoiding A.J.?"

On the point of eating another chip, I changed my mind and threw it at him instead. "All right, all right, but only because I know you'll never stop bothering me about it." I paused, not believing I was actually going to tell him this. "He—er—he told me he loved me."

James looked a little shocked—if I had to guess, that'd been the last thing he was expecting—but he recovered quickly (as always). "And what did you—"

"Skipping school, are we?" a new voice interrupted, as none other than Sirius Black plopped down beside me. "That's going to be a mark on your record, Prefect Evans."

"And what about your record, Black?" I asked, once I'd gotten over the surprise of his sudden and unexpected appearance.

"Seventy-three."

"Er, what?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were asking what my record was for skipping class without getting caught. You have my permission to be impressed."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm sure I would be if I didn't know the other half of that statistic."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the number of times you've skipped class and have been caught."

"Ah—good point, Evans." He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I've lost count."

I sat back in satisfaction, but quickly leaned forward again. "Hang on, how did you find us?"

It was James who answered, pulling out the mirror he'd had with him the night I'd almost been attacked by Remus. "He called right after I got into the tunnel—I believe you were distracted wondering—" he started with a smirk.

"—what would happen if it collapsed on top of us? Yeah, silly me," I said sarcastically, though that answered the question of what James had been shoving into his pocket.

"Anyway, I knew class would be complete crap without either of you, so . . ." Sirius spread his hands conclusively. After a pause, he added, "What've you kids been talking about?"

"Professions of love," James said breezily.

"Come again?" Sirius said, raising his eyebrows.

"Okay, we're not going to—" I started, but James overrode me. Prick.

"From A.J. To Lily," he added unnecessarily.

Sirius's eyebrows climbed even higher on his forehead while my cheeks flushed a dark red. "Huh. How 'bout that?" he mused, an odd look on his face.

"What?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to know.

"Well, it's just—I suppose he was serious, was he?"

"Are you saying I'm unlovable?" I demanded, immediately on the defensive.

"No, no—of course not, love," Sirius said with a wink, which only made me roll my eyes, unconvinced. "I meant it's a little strange, that's all—not exactly something a bloke usually says, because—"

"—it means you'd actually have to see the girl again?" I said sardonically. "Yes, I can see where you'd be confused by the concept, Black."

Sirius grinned. "Glad we understand each other. I mean, I might say it, but only to . . . you know."

I snorted—a bit hypocritical, I know, because I'd had the same thought earlier with A.J., but I had to be offended on behalf of my own sex. On principle, you know. "Honestly, you are the most insensitive person I think I've ever met."

"And yet you can't help but like the prat—funny, isn't it?" James asked.

"Hilarious," I agreed dryly.

OOOOOOOO

Over the next month, things settled into a new, though decidedly not improved, normality. I gradually felt less uncomfortable around A.J., until things had returned nearly to the way they were before. He didn't say the L word again, so I could almost pretend he'd never uttered it.

I also got used to my estrangement from Remus. He no longer shot me looks of loathing every time we passed in the halls—instead, he'd fully adopted the notion that I didn't exist. We continued doing rounds separately; I was sure McGonagall wouldn't approve if she knew, but I certainly wasn't going to tell her.

As it always did when the end of the year approached, the stress of exams mixed with the promise of summer break was the catalyst for several nervous breakdowns, dramatic breakups (or impulsive hook ups), and clash of tempers. And it was this that I blamed for the series of events that lead to . . . well, you'll see.

I clearly remembered the stress of last year as I prepared to take my O.W.L.s, if only because I'd later think how it paled in comparison to how awful I felt about the events that followed them. Nevertheless, I fully sympathized with A.J. as he started to unravel slightly at the seams in the last week of May.

"Well, are you sure?" he demanded of me late one night in the common room.

I paused slightly before answering to control the annoyance that threatened to spring into my voice. "A.J., why would I have your Transfiguration book?" I asked calmly, hoping to recall reason back into the conversation.

My boyfriend stared at me for a moment before letting out a long and defeated sigh. "Right, sorry," he muttered, turning to dig in his bag again. Stopping suddenly, he frowned. "Actually, I might have left it in the Quidditch lockers. I brought it down to study because James always gets a bit tense around matches and tends to drone on about tactics unnecessarily, and especially since this is a big game . . . I mean, he would have killed me if he'd caught me, but . . . I'll be back," he finished, standing and leaving through the portrait hole.

I watched him go, now frowning myself. Not because of his somewhat confusing and rambling explanation—this was also a new development caused by his increased stress load, so I'd learned to sort of ignore him when he talked. No, I was once again contemplating the ridiculousness of Quidditch. I mean, if A.J. felt like he couldn't even study without igniting Potter's wrath, then . . . well, that wasn't fair.

Just then, the Quidditch captain himself entered the common room accompanied by Sirius, but not Peter or, thankfully, Remus. I decided on the spot to intervene on A.J.'s behalf—I knew full well that anyone who played or seriously followed Quidditch was quite sensitive about any allegations that it might be something less than the most important thing in the world, so I'd have to go about it carefully.

"Evans, where's Rookie?" he inquired as he and Sirius plopped onto the couch across from me. "I'd think that, since I've graciously cancelled Quidditch practice today, he'd love to spend his free evening with you." He grinned evilly.

Okay, maybe not so carefully, then. Ever since I'd—foolishly—mentioned that A.J. had told me he loved me, James had made an effort to slip hints about it into nearly all of our conversations. It was getting very tiresome. "Actually, I'm glad you brought up Quidditch, Potter," I said, ignoring both his question and his attempt to rile me. "You've had, what, six practices in the last seven days?" I asked, hoping I came off as casually interested.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius frown at me, but Potter merely shrugged and said, "Yeah, why?"

"Seems like a lot, doesn't it?"

"Not with the final coming up," James answered. "And since we lost to Hufflepuff by thirty points, and Slytherin beat them by one hundred and twenty, it means we've got to—"

"Yes, well, sparing the details," I interrupted hurriedly, not caring for a discussion of strategy, which would only be over my head anyway, "I'm just thinking that . . . with exams coming up . . . and some people have—"

Apparently catching on to where I was heading, Sirius said, "Careful, Evans," and though his voice was teasing, there was a warning look in his eyes when I glanced at him.

Ignoring it, I pressed on, "All I'm saying is that some of your players might appreciate more time off to—"

"And by some of them you of course mean A.J.," James said, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yes."

Potter pressed his lips together briefly before saying, "So, let me see if I've got this straight—Rookie's feeling stressed, so he told you to talk to me and—"

"No, of course he didn't," I cut in. "He's perfectly capable of talking to you if he wants t—"

"Then maybe you should let him," James said, a little tersely.

I raised my eyebrows. "Fine," I replied shortly. I started to pull out my homework, though I couldn't stop myself from adding, "But you know he doesn't want to let you down, so I don't think he'd ever admit he was having trouble, even though I know he's been under a lot of pressure—I mean, it's understandable, with his O.W.L.s coming up—"

"Seriously, I think you should let him handle it, Evans," Potter interrupted again, barely controlled anger in his voice now.

"Why are you getting all defensive about this? I'm just—"

"Well, why are you?"

We glared at each other for a moment, until Sirius broke the tense silence, "So, I've been thinking about buying a motorcycle."

He was obviously trying to change the subject to diffuse what was clearly becoming another infamous James-Lily row. And what he'd said might have been surprising enough to succeed in this, if A.J. hadn't re-entered the room just then.

"Ah, Rookie, glad you're here," James said with forced pleasantness. "Maybe you can settle something—you have a mother, right?"

I sighed impatiently. "That's not—"

"I think I was speaking to A.J., Evans."

"Er . . . yes," A.J. replied slowly, looking apprehensively between James and I.

"Excellent. Then I suppose you wouldn't need Evans here to worry about you doing well in school."

"I can—" I tried again angrily.

"Because apparently she feels it necessary to inform me that I've been insensitive to schedule Quidditch practice every day, and that everyone would be much better off if I catered to your every need instead and made sure you weren't feeling too stressed out."

"Er . . ." A.J. repeated.

"Stop it, Potter," I snapped. "Honestly, it's just a damn game, I don't understand why everyone—oh, don't look so shocked," I said impatiently. "Really, do you think it's going to matter in thirty years whether you win this game? But whether you pass your exams, that's—"

Potter let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Of course you'd say something like that, Evans. Merlin, I don't even know why I'm still listening to you." He started to pack up his bag again. Standing, he added curtly, "Look, I had Qudditch practice every day last year too, and I made it through O.W.L.s just fine. So I don't think A.J.—"

I stood as well. "Oh, right, because if it's fine for the great James Potter, then that should be good enough for everyone else. I know for a fact that you hardly studied at all for your O.W.L.s—"

"And how the hell would you know that? You didn't think I was worth a damn back then, remember?"

"Well, you certainly had plenty of free time to hex people just for the hell of it and ruin my life, didn't you?"

Potter blinked, stunned briefly to silence at my words. Then, with another humorless laugh, he started for the portrait hole.

Already feeling guilty for my outburst, I said, "Potter, I didn't mean—"

He whipped back around to glare at me. "Why don't you do us all a favor, Evans, and shut up."

Feeling like I'd been slapped, I turned back to the others. A.J. was staring at me in surprise and confusion. "What just hap—" he began.

But I just shook my head, sitting back down, and A.J. thankfully didn't question it as he came to sit beside me. As I pulled out parchment and a quill, I glanced at Sirius. He was watching me with a sad sort of smile on his face. "You just had to bring up that day, didn't you?" And he stood to follow James out of the portrait hole. My throat tightened at his words, the disappointment in his voice almost worse than Potter's outright anger.

OOOOOOOO

"I mean, what made me say that?" I moaned to Mary, who was doing her hair and makeup in the bathroom Saturday morning.

"For the thousandth time, Lily, I don't know," she replied, sounding a little annoyed. To be fair, I had been practically obsessing about my fight with James over the past week. I'd done it before, but the main difference this time was that I was berating my own stupidity instead of complaining about what he'd done.

"The one thing that's always been an issue for us—and just when I thought we'd—well, I'd just told him I'd moved past it, but it certainly doesn't look that way now, does—"

"Lily," Mary interrupted sharply, "I've heard all this. And I'm sorry you had a fight, but if you'd just apologize—"

"Well, I tried, but he just told me to shut up," I said, knowing it was slightly pathetic as an excuse.

"Right," Mary said, emerging from the bathroom. "So, you sure you don't want to come to the match?"

"Yeah, I'm just not in the mood today."

"Not even to cheer on A.J.?" she wheedled.

"He doesn't mind that I'm not going—I've already told him good luck and all."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Fine," she sighed. "But I'm making you come to the after party if we win," she promised. Or maybe 'threatened' is a better word.

"Fair enough," I assented, and Mary left the dormitory.

OOOOOOOO

As fate would have it, we did win—not that I was necessarily complaining, because it was exciting for Gryffindor. I just didn't happen to be in a celebratory mood. I managed to hide out in the dormitory for the majority of the party, until Mary literally dragged me downstairs, insisting that I at least congratulate A.J.

He came straight over to me as soon as I cleared the last step into the common room. "Hey, sorry—I've been sort of a horrible girlfr—" I started, but was interrupted as A.J. kissed me.

"We won!" he exclaimed unnecessarily.

I grinned. "Yeah, I gathered that. All due to your brilliant Seeking, I'm sure."

"Indeed," he agreed, kissing me again. "Could I interest you in a delicious liquidy beverage?"

I laughed. "Sure—er, just butterbeer," I requested, vividly remembering my last encounter with alcohol.

"I'll be right back," A.J. promised.

As soon as he left, I spotted Potter coming towards me. Shit, here we go, I thought, steeling myself for . . . a hug? I was so surprised that I just stood there, hands hanging stupidly at my sides until he released me. When he pulled back, he stumbled slightly, and the hug started to make more sense.

"Evans, I'm—I jus'—sorry about . . . the thing."

I laughed. "You're drunk," I accused.

"L'il bit," he agreed. "But I mean—meant it—what I said. Jus' now, not . . . y'know, th'other day."

"I know—I'm sorry too. I mean, I shouldn't try and tell you how to run your team."

"I am the Cap'in."

I laughed again. "Yes, I know. That's why I'm apologizing. And I—" But I stopped. No need to bring up the other bit, right? If James wasn't going to bother about it, I wasn't going to start the fight over again.

"Righ,' yeah." James grinned. "Well, glad tha's settled."

"Me too, because I really didn't—"

But I was forced to stop again, because at that moment, James leaned down and kissed me.

A/N: Yes, yes, I'm terrible person that deserves to suffer a long and painful death and all that….