He talked to her. Religion, God, Faith, Hope. They had received these in heritage. He had always asked her, the right skeptic, how millions of people could place their faith in something that did not exist. Lily would jump at that. Faith. She'd argue that faith didn't translate to fact. He'd shake his head and she'd walk away haughtily. He'd grin as she pranced off.
She had always loved the stories of old. The love, the duty, the honor. He'd snort; tell her that storybooks were the victors' tales. She wanted knights and high towers and bloodshed on horseback. Sword in stone, mettle of blood. She welcomed evil, wanted it even, for there was no great story bereft of great evil. How could she fight without a cause? She wanted to be justified in her crusade. She wanted passion. So he'd pluck a flower from the grounds and tuck it behind her ear. She'd stop mid-sentence and blush. All would be quiet till he'd chuckle, then she'd thump him on the head.
What does an army do during peace? When there is no need for heroics? She'd tell him that the only reason there was any peace was because there was an army.
When the dark time was upon them Lily lived the poetry she had been so fond of. Their world didn't have an army, of course they were attacked. Lily had her cause and so did he. So they fought. They fought and they fought. And, students that they were, they learned. He learned fighting involved a lot of running away and leaving friends for dead. He learnt killing. And amidst all the war, he learned to live. It was harder for her. The glamour had been stripped away, leaving her with bones and fire and burning. He saw the light in her eyes dim.
So he talked to her. He spoke of things forgotten. All the stolen kisses, all the hexes. The Giant Squid and elves in Hogwarts' kitchens. The sacred common room armchairs and the arguments over it. The Charms classes and the Slug Club. The broom cupboards and Puddifoot's. He winced at that and she laughed.
The light had dimmed in her eyes, but then, where there had been light, now had fire. She was Lily Evans, and Merlin and Agrippa she turned him on. He was James Potter, and Christ, he was entirely inappropriate.
