1976 – Fifth Year
It had been a week since Sev – no – Snape had called her that evil word.
Mudblood.
Mudblood.
Mudblood.
It swam around in her head like a fish amongst the coral, forcing its way through every other thought and controlling her every move. Surprisingly, it was the one person she truly hated that was her rock for the past week.
James Potter was persistent; she could certainly give him that. But Lily Evans was stubborn, and refused to succumb to any feelings she may have regarding the black-haired Marauder. That's not to say she had nice feelings for James Potter, but she certainly liked the gifts he sent. Just yesterday he sent her a beautiful silver bracelet. Of course she thanked him, for it was beautiful, but that didn't mean she liked him. On the contrary, she despised him more than ever. She hated the way he was helping her through the loss of her best friend, because it meant that she owed him.
Lily Evans owed James Potter, and she didn't like it one bit.
"Potter?" she said, as she approached him sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room. He looked up at her and the first thing she noticed was the red ring around his eyes. James Potter, fearless chaser and Marauder leader, had been crying.
"Please leave, Lily. Just go back to bed," he croaked, his voice breaking on the last note. As she turned away, clearly unwanted, she heard the small sob and immediately went to his side. She gathered him up in her arms and whispered into his ear.
"Don't cry. For the love of Merlin, please, don't cry," she whispered, trying her best not to cry herself. "You're the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. You cannot cry." James immediately pulled away from her.
"So, because you've had a bad week, I can't? Is that how it's always going to be with you? It just seems that the more I try, the worse it gets. And I have tried so hard with you –"
"I'm not saying you haven't," Lily tried, but James wasn't listening.
"– I've even changed for you. And you're still exactly the same; a cold, heartless bitch."
"WHAT?" yelled Lily, standing up in pure rage. "I have just sat here and comforted you after YOU told me to go away, and you have the nerve to get angry. I have had one of the worst weeks of my life, my best friend is a Death Eater, and you expect me to just obey to your wishes. Well, guess what, Potter?"
"What?" he snarled at her.
"I am not yours, so back off." Lily had never been this angry in her life. It wasn't that he called her a bitch, she'd been called much worse before. As much as she hated to admit it, he had somehow become her James, and she never planned on letting go.
"Fine. If that's what you want," said James, defeated.
"Wait," said Lily, grabbing his arm before he could leave.
"Want to yell at me again for being sad?"
"No, I just – James, I want to –"
But he cut her off in one quick action. His lips pressed against hers in a way she'd never felt before. Her whole insides exploded, and she thought the butterflies were bad. There was no denying her feelings now. She'd swum straight to the deep end this time. She decided that, if it was going to happen, she might as well make it good. Her arms wound around his neck, dragging herself up so he wouldn't have to bend his neck so far down. A small moan released itself from the back of her throat, his fingers digging into her hips. She didn't think it possible to be any closer, until his hand was on the small of her back, pushing her nearer so she had no choice but to comply. Hands and lips were everywhere, but she had a feeling that it just wouldn't work.
James Potter. Bloody James Potter, of course, she thought, as her fingers dug deeper into his hair. Of course it would be James Potter to snatch away her first kiss. But she knew, deep down, that she never wanted to kiss anyone ever again.
Slowly, but surely, they pulled away from each other. Lily reluctantly took a step back, trying desperately to compose her thoughts.
"What was that?" she managed, quietly.
"I don't – I don't know," James said, looking up from under his eyelashes. She so badly wanted to kiss him again, but that was definitely not a good idea.
"Why did you kiss me? We were fighting, and then you just kissed me."
"You called me 'James'," he said, looking at his feet.
"Are you actually serious? You kiss me because I called you by your name. You're pathetic."
"Oh, I'm pathetic. Am I pathetic because I have feelings? Because I genuinely care for you? Is it so hard for you to believe that, yeah, maybe I did kiss you because you actually said my name?" James protested.
"Yes, it's hard for me to believe because it's absolutely ridiculous!" Lily was angrier and angrier by the second.
"Do you know how many times you've called me by my first name? Once. ONCE! That was the only time you've called me 'James'. So, yes, I kissed you. But, you know what? Forget it, because I'm never chasing after you again," said James. He was done playing second best, when Lily was first to him. A single tear started to fall down her face, and James scoffed.
"James, please –"
"No, that isn't going to work this time. It's over, Lily. You played the game, and you lost." With that, James departed the common room through the portrait hole.
Lily didn't care that he'd left after curfew. She only cared that she had lost her chance. She had dragged him along for years and, when she needed him the most, he left her.
For the second time that week, Lily Evans' heart broke.