A/N: A lot of you are commenting on the fact that you aren't a fan of James and here's a secret: neither am I. But tell me you wouldn't slowly begin to shut down if 1) your family members were dropping one by one and 2) the most dangerous villain in your world was targeting the person you loved. If you haven't particularly liked him lately...well, you're going to have to continue not liking him. Let's all just give James some time to work out the turmoil in his head, shall we?

Disclaimer: To be J.K. Rowling or not to bee J.K. Rowling. That's the question. Here's the answer: I ain't her. Which means I didn't come up with 90% of these characters and plot.

Goodbyes on the Balcony

By ByeByeBirdie

Chapter 23: Of Scapegoats, Anniversaries, & Buzzkills

++JAMES++

I was exhausted, sweaty, worn down and stressed out. Sydny and I had been investigating claims out in Cornwall of curious Muggle deaths. One of the more well-known wizarding villages of the area, Tinworth, was outside Cornwall so Sydny and I weren't surprised to find confused Muggle policemen having no answers as to how certain Muggles in their jurisdiction had just dropped dead without reasonable explanation. For a good portion of the morning, Sydny and I went on a hunt for potential Death Eaters who could have done the random acts of killing. And now all I wanted was to sleep.

Unfortunately, I had far too much paperwork to fill out and an ongoing investigation to follow through with.

I was knee-deep in scrutinizing old Death Eater files when I was surprised to see a frantic Keegan appear by my side. "Keegan? What are you-"

"Where's Sydny?" she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.

Something was clearly off with her. "Are you alright?"

"Can you just tell me where she is?" she pleaded.

"Er…I believe she's taking out her frustration with the world downstairs in the training facilities. She—wait, Keegan! What's going on!?" She was rushing away from me without so much as a good-bye.

"What was that about?"

I glanced up and saw Fabian peeking over my cubicle. "Damned if I know. Why would Keegan need to speak to Sydny?"

"I've stopped asking questions years ago," he murmured with a sigh. "I've learned that the answers are never what I want to hear."

I frowned, knowing he was right. Maybe it was better not knowing anything about what was going on with Keegan or Sydny. At this point, it was better not knowing anything.

++KEEGAN++

I was frantic as I rushed into the training facilities, desperate to speak to Sydny. I knew deep down that no matter what she said, it probably wouldn't make me feel any better about Tristan's death, but it was as if she were my last hope. She may be the only person who can help me gain that last bit of closure that I had been so afraid of for so long. I was hoping she would ease my fears.

"Sydny!" I cried out across the track.

She glanced up, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. She started jogging over to me and I met her halfway. "Keegan, what are you-"

"Tell me everything you know about the Moreaus."

Sydny looked at me like I had three heads. "What are you talking-"

"The Moreaus," I said hysterically, thrusting Wyatt's letter into her hands. "Tell me everything you know."

She glanced down at the letter in front of me and I saw her confusion fade into pure angst. I shut my eyes fearfully, the frantic scribbled words on the page coursing through my veins.

The Moreaus are in grave danger! Get to their mansion NOW!

Sydny's name nor Wyatt's name were even on the letter. Just the two sentences and an underlying panic in the scribbles.

"Keegan," Sydny eventually spoke, her hands fingering the letter delicately. "I-I don't know what you're looking for, but…I-I-"

"Just tell me everything you know," I repeated for a third time. "Please."

Sydny frowned, glancing back down at the letter. She didn't respond immediately but I saw regret in her own careful expression. "It was four years ago," she eventually said softly. "And…and I still remember everything about that night."

My heart skipped a beat as I slowly nodded, urging her to continue.

"It was almost midnight when I received that letter," she continued. "I had been in my apartment sifting through old case files in regards to any past sightings of Death Eaters or attacks in Southeast Asia. The Lestranges were spotted in Thailand that night which confused us all because Asia isn't a continent we find them on often."

"They were going after the Britain Auror training mission," I muttered.

I saw surprise in her eyes before she nodded. "Er…yes."

"So it was almost midnight," I urged. "And?"

"I got his letter," she murmured. "And it frightened the hell out of me. Wyatt's letters were usually methodical and detailed but this one was just pure panic. I knew something awful was going to happen and it was going to go down in a matter of seconds. I knew it was unplanned and some of the worst attacks from Voldemort occur without a plan in motion. I still had the letter in my hand as I apparated to Moreau Manor."

"And?" I asked frantically.

She grimaced, turning away from me quickly. "The Dark Mark was already over it," she whispered hoarsely.

My heart practically broke in two all over again at the mere thought.

She slowly continued. "As I rushed into the home, I saw three men leaving through the back. I…I tried going after them but they apparated before I could even attempt to stop them." She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, shaking her head shamefully. "I was…I was too late. By a few mere seconds, Keegan," she whispered. "If I had gotten there just a few minutes earlier, they could all still be alive."

I was shocked to see such heartbreak apparent on her face. Being an Auror, she must have seen a lot of horrible things over the years. And yet the Moreaus' deaths seemed to really affect her.

"They hadn't done a damned thing," she spat. "They were a convenient target and that's why they died. It never should have been them. They hadn't even been on Voldemort's radar until…" she trailed off.

"Until he needed a scapegoat?" I suggested.

She met my eyes, surprise apparent in her own. "Yeah," she spoke.

I offered a simple nod before dropping on to a bench with a defeated sigh.

"The Moreaus deserved better," she whispered.

I had to shut my eyes to will the tears from falling. I wasn't going to cry in front of Sydny. I wasn't going to cry at all.

I felt her footsteps follow me to the bench as she sat down beside me. "Keegan?" she said softly.

I didn't respond but I let my eyelids flutter open.

"You were engaged to Tristan, weren't you."

My breath stopped short as I avoided eye contact with her, suddenly finding the track floor very interesting. I'm not surprised that she knew that. She had lived in France when I was engaged to Tristan. Seeing as he was the son of the French Minister of Magic, his personal live was common knowledge.

Eventually, I nodded.

"I'm sorry," she spoke sincerely. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save them."

I swallowed the lump in my throat as best I could. "It wasn't your fault, Sydny," I muttered.

"Maybe not, but no one deserves to lose their fiancé like that."

That I couldn't argue with. "Yeah, well, it's been four years," I mustered out hollowly. "I can't dwell on it."

Sydny's lips pursed. "Then why are you here?" she dared to ask softly.

My heart skipped a beat and I slowly met her knowing gaze. "Thank you, Sydny," I said sincerely. "For sharing that with me."

She nodded and looked like she was about to say something else, but I stood up and walked away before I could hear her idealize the situation anymore.

"Keegan, wait!" she cried out.

I didn't stop. I didn't want to hear anything more she had to say. I was right before. It didn't help me feel any better.

++SYDNY++

I didn't mind much that I didn't have a chance to tell her that one of those three men I had seen disappearing out the back door of Moreau Manor was Wyatt Potter. Nothing good could have come out of that.

++SIRIUS++

Flying around a Quidditch pitch really clears my head. So it's where I went when I needed to think. Or to avoid thinking. A few days later, I still had so much anger for James. It was frustrating knowing that my best friend was clearly dealing with so much and yet instead of even remotely trying to deal with it, he chose to keep it all bottled up inside of him. Sure, as a member of the male species I knew that we often liked to keep our emotions in check. We weren't supposed to show pain or weakness. But I considered the friendship between myself and James closer than most. We talked about everything, even the things most people kept to themselves. He was the only one I even bothered discussing Riley with after she left because I knew he felt the same. He came to me when Jaron died and he felt like he had no control over what was happening to his family. But over the last couple of months, James has been nothing but a closed book. And it was killing me to watch him clearly killing himself, even if he didn't know it. But what killed me the most was that instead of trying to talk about what was going on, he decided his better option was to fight an entire army of Death Eaters. Oh yeah, and Voldemort.

Glancing at my watch, I was surprised to realize I had been flying about for over two hours. I slowly flew towards the ground, wishing that those two hours would have been able to give me some sort of clarity or understanding. Sadly, they didn't. So I did my next best option.

I decided to visit Mrs. P.

"Sirius!" she greeted with a smile, drawing me in for a hug. She made a face, slowly recoiling. "You couldn't have showered before stopping by?" she teased.

I chuckled, offering her a sheepish shrug. "That's the downside of an impromptu visit."

"Ah, well, I guess I can't complain. You're one of my only children who actually stops in more than once every six months," she said, gesturing me into her flat. I didn't bother correcting her that I wasn't actually one of her children. I may as well have been. And she was the closest thing I had to an actual mother.

I could have responded that I stopped in because I knew what it was like to not take your family for granted. I could have said that if her actual children were born into my original family and then were lucky enough to find a surrogate family twelve years later, they would find more reason to stop by. I could have mentioned that I really should have been stopping by more than I really did considering how much she had lost. But I didn't say any of that. Because I knew she knew that all of that was running through my head. So there was no reason to voice it aloud.

"How have you been?" I asked, as she headed into her kitchen.

Her lips pursed as she reached for her tea kettle. "Why are you here, Sirius?"

I frowned. "I can't drop in just to see how you are?"

She shot me a knowing look. "You can. But considering Potter Manor got ambushed and my son nearly died three days ago, I'm thinking you may have a bit of a hidden agenda."

She knew me well. "That night was a whirlwind, Mrs. P," I said softly. "I really am here just to see how you're doing."

She filled the tea kettle with water and placed it on the stove before finally turning to me. "I-I won't let that man take any more of my children, Sirius. But what am I to do when my own son runs headfirst into the most dangerous battle anyone could face?"

Damned good question. "I wish I knew," I whispered. "Because if I did, I would have done something about it a long time ago."

I could see the tears slowly springing to her eyes no matter how hard she tried blinking them away. "What is going on with my son, Sirius?" she dared to ask, her bottom lip trembling.

For the first time in eleven years, I honestly didn't know.

++LILY++

It had been a dreary, rainy day. As I left the office, early for the first time in months, I had to draw my wool hat tightly over my ears as I quickly apparated home. The wind was brisk and the rain was cold so I was grateful when I was able to shut the large iron-wrought door of Potter Manor behind me, welcoming the warmth of the oversized mansion. When I got inside the large foyer, a smile crept on to my face. Not because of the warmth. But because I couldn't believe how far James and I had come.

January 3rd. It had been four years since James and I had officially gotten together. Four years of ups and downs, of drama and tragedy, of tears and heartbreak, but ultimately of love and devotion. There was no doubt in my mind that we were both two different people today than the people we had been four years earlier. We had merely been children, sheltered by the walls of Hogwarts. The Real World hit us both hard, the reality of what was going on in the wizarding world more prominent and glaring as we thrust ourselves into our demanding jobs. James was actively fighting against Voldemort in every single aspect of his life. I was fighting for international wizarding rights and international unity at a time that needed it most. The war was undeniable.

As I traipsed up the large winding stairwell to our bedroom, I tried forgetting about the numerous tragedies we've had to endure in the last year since our last Anniversary. But it was hard to ignore with all that happened in just a year. On our last Anniversary, Remus was still engaged to Jillian. Wyatt was barely a blip on our radar having still fallen off the face of the earth. We hadn't heard anything from or about Mr. Potter since the day he left. Caleb Gilmore had still been alive. Dezzy and Drew hadn't been married. Kay had been my roommate and I didn't even know who Keegan was. I wasn't living with James. I was still working in a cubicle and James was still just a recruit. Kay and Lance hadn't yet been engaged. It was just twelve months but it appeared everything in our lives had changed. Some for the better, most for the worst.

I shook my head of the depressing thoughts. Today was a day to celebrate and I refused to bring myself down being stuck in the past. As I strolled into the walk-in closet, another smile fell on to my face as I wondered what James had in store for us for the evening. He always went a little above & beyond, insisting we get dressed up in our best formalwear as he tried to sweep me off my feet. And he always did. On our one-year Anniversary, he took us through a carriage ride around London before reserving out the entire restaurant of our favorite Italian place on the water so that we were the only two guests. Our two-year Anniversary included a hot air balloon and a weekend trip to the coast of France. Last year's Anniversary had started with a major snowstorm and the apparition channels had been al shut down. I thought our plans would be called off, but James wouldn't let "a little bit of snow" squash our plans (just an FYI, it was a whole lot more than just a little bit of snow). We couldn't have dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower like he had originally planned, but he still insisted we dress up but we caked ourselves in snowpants, snow parkas, hats, gloves, etc. as we traipsed through the snow to Blarney's. When we got there, Melinda was none too pleased since she had been planning on closing it up but James slipped her a few hundred galleons and suddenly, she was gone and it was just the two of us alone in the bar. It ended up being wildly romantic.

As I glanced out the window, a part of me almost wished the rain would turn into a snowstorm. As much as I was looking forward to throwing on my sparkly black cocktail dress, I think it could also be just as much fun to cuddle up in front of the fire nestled in each other's arms. It had been a long time since we've done that. Unfortunately the rain didn't turn into snow.

Which in the end didn't matter because James never showed up anyway.

The minutes ticked by. Then the hours. Suddenly it was after eleven o'clock and our anniversary was almost over. A day I should have been celebrating with James and instead he was hiding out somewhere. I had no doubt in my mind that he had forgotten was today was. And that was the worst part of it all.

I suddenly couldn't be in that home anymore. It didn't even feel like mine. Which is ironic since it seemed like I was the only one ever there anymore.

It didn't come as a surprise when I found myself traipsing into Blarney's. I needed a large drink of anything strong at that moment before I could even face James.

I fell into one of the bar stools, gesturing towards Melinda. She smiled in my direction as she finished up with another customer. I slipped off my jacket and thrust it on to the stool beside me, the frustration and agony building up inside of me.

"Hey, Lily," Melinda greeted, giving me a wolf whistle. "Whoa, someone's looking hot tonight. What's the occasion? Another Ministry event?"

I frowned, trying not to blow up at her. It's not her fault James is a complete and total arse. "Something like that," I muttered irritably. "Can I get a firewhisky and soda?" I sighed. "On second thought, hold the soda."

Her eyebrow raised slightly, but thankfully she didn't comment. I knew she was wondering why I wanted a shot of firewhisky since that definitely wasn't even close to my first choice of drink. She reached for the bottle and poured me a drink, handing it to me. "Everything alright?" she asked.

"Just peachy." I took a large gulp of the alcohol, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat.

"Well, it's on the house," she said with a shrug.

"No, don't do that. Don't pity me," I muttered, shaking my head. "It's just been a bad day. That's all."

She shot me a look. "Lily, you've been coming in here for nearly four years and never once have you ordered a straight firewhisky. You've clearly had more than a bad day today," she urged. "And I'm not pitying you. I'm just trying to give you a free drink on a day you could clearly use it."

I didn't respond, choosing to finish off the drink instead.

"Another?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, why not."

She poured me another glass and sent it my way. "Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you could tell me where James is," I blurted out, cringing when I realized how pathetic that sounded.

She offered me a shrug. "Sorry, can't help you there. I haven't seen him since he was here on Christmas Eve. Which seems like a long time for him to stay away from this place."

"Yeah, he's been pretty busy late—wait a minute," I interrupted my own thoughts, sitting up straighter on the stool. "What did you say?"

She gazed at me, confused. "Er…nothing. Just that it's unusual for him to stay away from his place for so long."

I stared at her, trying to ignore the shock and anger coursing through my veins. "He…he was here on Christmas Eve?"

She nodded hesitantly, clearly realizing she should have kept her mouth shut. "Er…yeah."

"What time?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Melinda."

She sighed. "Nine o'clock maybe."

"That bastard," I muttered angrily under my breath. I finished off the firewhisky and hopped off the stool, reaching for my wallet.

"The second one's on me, too," Melinda reassured.

I didn't bother arguing that time, throwing on my jacket and rushing out of Blarney's like a madwoman.

I was going to kill James Potter.

++SIRIUS++

I was settled on my couch with the Quidditch World Cup draft of the rulebook and a beer, the wizarding television on in the background when there was a light knock on my door. Noting that it was eleven o'clock, I couldn't help but be confused as to who it might be. It would typically be James or Lily that late at night but 1) James was still avoiding me which I was fine with because I still wasn't entirely pleased with him and 2) I knew it was their Anniversary and I doubted including me in their plans was considered even remotely romantic to them.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Keegan there. In all honesty, she looked like a hot mess. Which was incredibly unusual for her. She always tried desperately to put on an act of having it together. As if looking composed and collected on the outside made the turmoil on the inside disappear. Sadly, I knew from experience that it didn't.

She had clearly just gotten out of the shower, her messy hair atop her head with a clip. She was just wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans. A pair of worn down flip flops adorned her feet and her face was void of any makeup. Her eyes were glazed over which made me realize that she was clearly drunk or at least tipsy. I knew something was wrong.

"Keegan," I greeted, confused. "Everything okay?"

"No," she said curtly, slipping past me into our flat. She dropped herself on to the couch.

"Er…so I guess you're coming in," I said teasingly. She didn't smile.

"What are you up to?" she asked, glancing down at the parchments I had placed on the coffee table when I was interrupted by the door.

"Work. Helping with the editing of the updated playbook for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup."

She glanced up at me, a forced sparkle of amusement gleaming in her eye. "You do more than fly around on a broom blowing a whistle?"

I scowled. "I didn't invite you in. I'd be more than happy to kick you out."

She leaned back against the couch cushion with a shrug. "Sorry."

She didn't sound very apologetic but I blamed it on the fact that she looked quite distracted. "What are you doing here, Rouge?" I sighed.

She ignored the question as she glanced towards the television, black and white 3D images popping out. "What are you watching?"

What the hell was wrong with her? "There's a marathon of old witch movies on. Wizard of Oz just started," I answered.

"Ah. I haven't seen that movie in ages." She reached for her wand and turned up the volume.

I reached for my wand and turned it down. "Rouge," I urged, standing in front of the television. "What's going on?"

She looked away from my scrutinizing gaze, a frown framing her face. "I don't want to talk about it," she muttered.

"Yes, you do," I sighed, slowly plopping down on the couch beside her. "Or you wouldn't be here."

She blinked, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. But she remained mute.

"The last time you showed up at my door late at night, you acted like you didn't want to talk about…about your past, but eventually it all tumbled out. And then we got into a huge fight about it. Can we just skip the games and you just tell me what's going on? As strange as it may sound, you're kinda scaring me."

She blinked and suddenly I saw the vulnerability flicker in her eyes. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.

I nodded knowingly. I had a strong feeling this had something to do with Tristan. "I know," I said softly. "So speak. What's going on?"

I was shocked to see tears glistening in the bottom of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, forcing out a smile in the shape of a grimace. "Sydny was there the night Tristan was killed."

Uh, what? I froze. Literally. I think I lost a few seconds from my life. When I finally was able to regain control of my brain, I gazed down at Keegan who looked just as lost as I felt. Dammit, why was Sydny always somehow involved in everyone's tragedies? "What do you mean she was there?" I dared to ask hesitantly.

She quickly shook her head. "Not like that," she urged. "She…she received a warning that something bad may happen. By the time she got to Moreau Manor, they were all dead and Death Eaters were escaping out the back."

I brooded silently, wrapping my head around her words. "Who the hell warned her?" I asked curiously.

She pursed her lips hesitantly, not responding.

I sighed. "It was Wyatt, wasn't it." It wasn't a question.

She glanced at me, startled. "Yeah," she said. "How much do you know?"

"About what?" I snorted. "Not much, I guarantee you."

She shrugged. "About Wyatt. About Sydny. About James I guess."

"Like I said," I sighed. "Not much."

She oddly seemed to accept that.

"How much do you know?" I dared to ask.

She shrugged again. "Not much," she murmured.

A lie. But I didn't push it. "How did you find out that Sydny was there the night Tristan died?" I asked, probably a tad more blunt than necessary.

Once again, she just pursed her lips without responding.

I tried going in another direction. "Did it provide you any sort of comfort knowing that Sydny was there?"

She sighed, reaching up to rub her temples. "I thought it would. And maybe a part of me had hoped it would," she admitted with a shrug. "But it really didn't. It just…" She slowly glanced towards me with an odd sort of expression on her face. A combination of satisfaction and torture. "It just made me realize that it's been four years."

"You haven't realized that before now?" I teased.

I was shocked when she actually laughed. And it was a real laugh. It lit up her face. The panic and confusion that had rested in her eyes when she walked into my apartment slowly started to disappear. "I'm never going to get closure from what happened," she admitted with a shrug. "Someone could give me the play-by-play as to what happened. Who actually did the killing. What Tristan's last words were. What his family's last words were. Why they were chosen and not someone else. I could learn the answers to the millions of questions in my head and it wouldn't make a difference. It wouldn't change what happened and there's really no use trying to pretend as if it could. I just need to…to get over it, I guess."

I glanced at her curiously. "Why are you telling me this?"

She met my gaze. "I figured you'd get it. You'd understand."

I unfortunately did. But I merely frowned. "Or are you saying that I haven't gotten over what happened with Riley?"

She shrugged. "You said it, not me."

I was going to open my mouth to tell her that I was over it, but the words didn't come out. It didn't matter how many times I've said the same lie over and over again. I somehow couldn't say it to Keegan. "Bonding over heartbreak wasn't my idea of a Friday night," I teased.

She grinned and I was struck by the realization that the girl actually had a nice smile. I didn't see it often from her, especially not in my vicinity. "Oh? And what exactly is your idea of a Friday night?" she asked coyly.

"Well, it would involve me and a girl, but definitely not you," I shot back, flashing her my infamous Sirius smirk (or at least the smirk that Lily-bean always groaned at).

She rolled her eyes. "Geez, sorry to be a buzzkill."

"When you come in here reminiscing about past heartbreak, that's pretty much the definition of buzzkill. At least let me chug a few beers before we get into it," I joked.

"Been there, done that."

"I can tell."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Drowning my sorrows in alcohol seemed like a good plan about an hour ago."

Don't I know it. A frown crept on to my lips and I couldn't help but turn away from her amused gaze. "Yeah," I muttered. "That always seems like a good plan."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, Black. I really didn't mean to come in here and…and bring you down. It was just a bit of a shock finding out that I know someone who…who had been there. Someone who I thought could finally give me answers."

"I know," I said with a shrug. "I…" I trailed off.

"Understand?"

I hesitated before nodding. "Yeah," I murmured, sighing. I glanced back at her, her innocent doe eyes staring up at me. "It's why you're here now, is it not?"

Her eyes didn't stray from mine as she slowly nodded. "I knew you'd get it," she murmured with a defeated sigh.

I let out my own sigh. "Damn, you and I are quite similar, aren't we?"

She offered me a single curt nod. "Sadly, yes," she whispered.

I hesitated. "It's not sad," I argued. "It's just life. Some of us just have unfortunately led sadder lives than others."

She locked eyes with me and didn't say anything immediately, the thoughts clearly churning in her alcohol-induced mind. Slowly, a twisted smile played on the end of her lips. "It doesn't have to happen that way, y'know."

I was about to ask her what she meant by that when the unexpected happened.

She kissed me.

And then something even more unexpected happened. I kissed her back.

++JAMES++

I was in Big Trouble. Capital B. Capital T. When I walked into the kitchen and saw the look on Lily's face, I knew that was the night I was probably going to be killed. Ironically, not by Voldemort. But by my girlfriend.

Now if only I could think what it was I did that warranted that look. I racked my brain with very little success.

I forced on a fake smile. "You're up late," I said, turning towards the refrigerator for a much needed beer. "And in formal wear. Did you have some sort of event tonight?" I tried to remember if she had mentioned an event recently but came up blank.

"James, what's the date today?"

That threw me for a loop. I had no idea what that had to do with anything. I glanced over the refrigerator door at her irate expression. "Er…what?"

"The date, Potter. What is it?"

I cringed. She said my surname. This really wasn't good. I buried my head back into the refrigerator. "Well, New Years Day was two days ago so I guess that would make today-" I froze in horror. That would make today January 3rd. Our Anniversary. Shit, I really was a dead man. The deadest of all men. Avada Kedrava mixed with a Choking Curse with a few kicks to the abdomen and smacks on the shoulder. I'm impressed she kept me alive this long.

I pulled my head from the refrigerator once again and turned to look at her. "Oh, shit."

"'Oh, shit' is right."

I tried opening my mouth to say something, anything, and found myself at a loss of words. Whatever I could have said would have come out hollow and futile. "Merlin, Lily, I'm the worst boyfriend in the world," I murmured.

"What, no apology?" she snapped.

"I didn't think you'd accept it," I muttered, hanging my head in shame.

"You're right, I wouldn't have," she said coolly, shaking her head. "Still would be nice to hear it."

"I'll make it up to you," I pleaded. "I'll-"

"I don't want you to make it up to me," she said, her voice cracking. I suddenly felt even worse (didn't realize that was possible) when I saw the tears pooling in her eyes. "I want you to just tell me what's going on."

"What?"

She slowly stood up from the kitchen table and wandered over to me. I shut the refrigerator door without a beer and faced her warily. Warily was how I often glanced at her in the past few months, the reminder that we nearly died a few days earlier weighing very heavily on my mind.

"James," she said softly. Vulnerably. Painstakingly. "I know that you've been through a lot. In the past four years and especially in the past few months, you've had to deal with so much heartbreak and tragedy and loss. So I of course don't blame you for being slightly withdrawn and distant. But it's not slight anymore. I barely see you anymore. And when I do, I feel like you don't want to be there. It's like you'd prefer to just throw yourself into your work and be alone than deal with any sort of emotions. And, again, I don't blame you for wanting to just…just escape. We've all been there. But don't escape your life forever. Come back to us. Come back to me."

"What are you blabbering about?" I murmured irritably. I hated when she tried to psychoanalyze me. Mostly because I was afraid one day she'd be able to see right through me. And it was better for her if she didn't.

A flicker of hurt appeared in her eye. This is the part where I'm supposed to feel guilty but all I could think about was what I would do if I ever lost her to Voldemort. My life would be over in that moment. But mostly, hers would be over. And that wasn't fair to her. She deserved far better. I was so scared for her. For myself. For all of the people I loved. When I hung out with them now, it was hard not to wonder who was next on Voldemort's hit list. It was just a matter of time before I truly was alone in the world. Oddly enough, that thought didn't depress me. It just made me wary and scared and wondering if I was better on my own.

She glared at me. "I just want you to talk to me," she pleaded.

"There's nothing to talk about," I sighed. "I'm just…I've been busy. With Voldemort getting stronger, my job is becoming more demanding. That's it. That's all there is to it. I'm sorry if you feel like I'm ignoring you, but it doesn't have anything to do with you." A lie. It had everything to do with her.

She cocked her head to the side, a curious glint in her eye. A glint I was unable to read. "You're busy?" she asked curiously. "Your job is demanding? Is that what you're chalking your detachment up to?"

I shrugged, nodding.

"Then why, pray tell, did you spend Christmas Eve at Blarney's!?"

I froze. Fuck, she wasn't supposed to know that. "Who told you that?"

"Are you denying it?"

I didn't respond.

"So do you want to go ahead and try another excuse this time?" she said, anger clearly building up inside of her no matter how hard she was trying to fight it.

I sighed. "I had just needed a break," I muttered. "I was at work. I was. But Sydny relieved me. And…and for some reason, I just couldn't face everyone. Aren't I allowed to have a night or two to myself?"

"A night or two?" she snorted. "Try pretty much every night since I moved in here."

Well, yeah. That was around the same time that Dezzy and Drew had been kidnapped, Lily had been attacked, and Wyatt and my father had died. It was around that time that I realized Voldemort was going after Lily. I sighed, not wanting to talk to Lily about any of this. "Can you just scream at me for being an arse for forgetting our Anniversary, tell me I'll never be able to make it up to you, and storm off, so that I can then tomorrow buy you a million roses, apologize profusely, and buy out a restaurant for a second try at our Anniversary date?"

Disappointment glimmered in her eyes. She slowly shook her head, sighing deeply. "You don't get it," she said sadly. "This isn't about our Anniversary. It's about everything else."

"Well, I'm glad you're being specific," I snorted.

She glared at me. "It's this sudden defensiveness you've grown accustomed to throwing in any of our faces when we just try to hold a conversation with you. It's the guy who skips out on Christmas Eve dinner with his family and friends. It's the distance you've insisted on putting between you and me. I'm trying so hard to be there for you, James, but you're slowly making it impossible," she whispered, her eyes filling with desperation.

She was right about everything. But I couldn't tell her that. I couldn't talk about it because to talk about it would mean I would have to explain that Voldemort had his sights on destroying the people around me. Including her. And I refused to let her be burdened with my problems. Especially since the moment I did that, she would spout out conjectures about how she wasn't scared of what Voldemort could do to her if she was with me. The problem was, I was scared. "Well, fine, break up with me and get it over with," I snapped, brushing past her to stare out the backdoor window.

There was silence behind me. I didn't know if that was a good or bad sign. Then again, I wasn't even sure what the good vs. bad would be. Breaking up was the last thing I wanted to do. But as I stood at the door, glancing out to where I had fought Voldemort just a few days earlier, I knew that it could be the solutions to all of my worries and problems and burdens. If Lily wasn't in my life anymore, that would give Voldemort enough reason to steer clear of her, right?

I probably sounded pathetic and weak and vulnerable. But imagine that the love of your life was on the radar of the most dangerous villain in your world. What would you do? Okay, I know that 'fight' would probably be your answer. But it seemed that no matter how much I fought, it wasn't doing any good.

I sighed. Now I knew I sounded pathetic and weak and vulnerable. But I wasn't. I was just desperate.

"You think I want to break up with you?" she interrupted my thoughts.

I merely shrugged.

"Is that what you want?"

I glanced over my shoulder at her, anguish displayed on her face. "I am sorry for forgetting our Anniversary," I said sincerely. "I guess I have been more distracted lately than I thought. I don't mean to…to take that out on you." That was the truth. I didn't mean to. It was just easier.

"So you admit you've been taking out your distractions on me?"

"I admit I've been distracted," I murmured. That was an understatement. I turned back around, wondering how easy it would be to just head out into the horizon and never turn back.

Silence again. Until she caught me off-guard with her next question. "Why did you ask me to move in here?"

"What?"

A heavy sigh fell from her lips. "Please, James, just answer the question."

I whirled around, facing her. "Are you thinking we made a mistake?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head. "No," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears again. "I'm thinking you think it was a mistake."

"What!?"

"What do you expect me to believe, James?" she asked, throwing her hands in the air. "Ever since I moved in here, I've seen you even less than I did before."

"I don't think it was a mistake," I urged her, shaking my head. "I already admitted I've been distracted. And not because of you." A half-lie.

She frowned. "James, I just feel like you're not even a part of this relationship anymore," she whispered. "And it's scaring me."

It's scaring me, too, Lily. It's scaring me, too. "I'm…I'm sorry that you feel that way," I said hollowly.

She tried to inconspicuously wipe the tears that were once again forming in her eyes. "That wasn't the answer I was looking for," she whispered, sinking back into one of the kitchen chairs with a defeated sigh.

I didn't respond. I knew that anything I had to say would not be what she wanted to hear. So I felt that silence was the best option.

The kitchen grew eerily quiet. I stood in front of the back door stiffly, facing her, and she sat stoically at the kitchen table, her head resting in the palm of her hand which was leaning casually against the table. Eventually, I turned back around to find solace in the dark of the backyard. I could barely make out the mountains in the distance but as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I found myself wondering what I could find beyond them.

I practically jumped when I felt her hand on my shoulder. I hadn't even heard her get up. "James," she said softly.

I melted into her touch, turning around to face her. I was suddenly struck by how gorgeous she was. Even though her hair that had probably been pinned up hours earlier was now mussed up and even though her mascara was smeared slightly underneath her right eye and even though her cheeks were paled and her eyes were filled with such sadness, she was still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I hated myself for the way I had been treating her. I just wanted the heaviness in my heart to disappear so I could go on loving her.

Problem was, loving her was going to get her killed.

I instinctively reached out and brushed a stray hair from her forehead, placing my lips lightly against her left temple. It was my only form of consolation to her at the moment.

"Do you want me here?" she asked softly.

"Always," I whispered almost immediately, shaking my head guiltily.

Relief washed over her face as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, drawing me closer to her. "Then what's going on?" she dared to ask, her voice strained with worry.

I couldn't respond. I didn't know how to.

She sighed. "Look, whatever you're going through, all that should ever matter is that we want to be with each other and we need each other, that we want to spend the rest of our lives together, that we would do anything for each other, and that we love each other, right?"

I nodded. It was all that had ever mattered to me. That was the problem.

"James, do you want to be with me?" she whispered.

I kissed her nose. "Of course."

"And do you need me?"

"So much," I muttered.

"And do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Yes," I said with a nod, a lump forming in my throat at the anticipation of the next question.

"And would you do anything for me?"

My heart skipped a beat. That was the question, wasn't it. "More than you'll ever know," I whispered.

Her lips curled up into a satisfied smile as she pressed her lips to mine quickly and yet so peacefully. "Last question," she said with a grin. "The most important question of course: do you love me?"

As I glanced into her beautiful green sparkling eyes, all I could think about was Dumbledore's words he spoke to me the day at St. Mungo's when Lily lay comatose in the bed in front of me. Voldemort was going to go after everyone I loved. He wasn't going to stop until they were all dead. And Lily was next. I wanted to protect her. To save her. I wanted to do anything and everything to stop her from being the next victim in Voldemort's pathetic little games. Even if it meant I had to be the one to hurt Lily. But it was better if I did it than Voldemort. At least then she would still be alive.

"James?" she said, her smile wavering slightly as worry clouded her eyes.

I opened my mouth a few times to tell her that I loved her. Because how could I not? But the words wouldn't form. I didn't see her in front of me anymore. I saw her in that St. Mungo's bed.

"James?" she said frantically, stepping out of my grasp. "Do you love me?" she pleaded.

"Lily," I finally croaked out, the single word coming out pathetic and destructive on my tongue. "I-I…I just…I…" I dithered. I sounded so helpless. But it matched how I felt.

"Oh, my God, you can't say it," she whispered agonizingly, taking another few steps back. "Why can't you say it?"

I hung my head shamefully, not able to look her in the eye to see the panic and the confusion and the hurt. "Lily," I pleaded.

"Dammit, is that all you can say?" she snapped, the tears swarming her eyes.

I didn't respond, a lump forming in my throat.

"James," she said frantically, her bottom lip trembling in agony.

"I'm sorry, Lily, I-I just…"

"What the hell is going on with you, James?" she said, her voice on the verge of a breakdown.

I didn't dare look up into her eyes knowing that pure disappointment and heartbreak would be staring at me.

"Right now, you are not the man I fell in love with. And I'm not so sure I can be around this man anymore," she spoke hoarsely before whirling around and rushing out of the kitchen.

I should have just left it at that, but I couldn't stop myself from calling out after her. I don't know what else I needed or wanted from her, but I couldn't just let her leave without trying to explain. I couldn't just let her walk away.

Could I?

"Lily, wait!" I cried out after her, my voice cracking.

She turned back around to glare at me. "For what?" she barked, her eyes blazing with hatred. "For you to tell me that you don't love me? No thanks, Potter. I'd rather leave now and save some sort of my dignity."

Ouch. Last name again. But I totally deserved it. I was honestly just impressed she was still speaking to me at all.

She was heading towards the front foyer, but I chased after her. "Lily, stop!" I pleaded.

Surprisingly, she did. She stopped right in front of the door. I could tell she was trying to compose herself, the sound of her soft sobs echoing throughout the foyer. Slowly, she turned to face me, an odd sense of calm now on her face. She looked up at me, staring into my eyes for what felt like eternity before letting out a long sigh. "I-I have to believe that you love me, James," she spoke hesitantly, slowly shaking her head as if she was trying to convince herself those words were true. "So I have no idea what the hell is going through your head that you can dare stand there, look me in the eye, and pretend differently. I should walk out that door and never turn back. But it's clear that you're going through a lot more than I thought you were if you can really stand there and go blank when I ask you a simple question like 'do you love me'. So talk to me, James. Please. What the hell is going on?"

Well, that threw me for a loop. I thought for sure she was going to skin me alive. And now we were just right back to where we were a few minutes ago. Nowhere.

I didn't respond. I didn't know how to.

Tears welled up in her eyes again and she reached over for my hand. I retracted it before she could grab ahold of it. Shock rested in her eye. "James, just say you love me," she pleaded, her voice hoarse and helpless.

I didn't say it. I couldn't say it. Maybe if Voldemort thought I didn't love Lily anymore, she could just be safe.

Later on, I realized how ridiculous that sounded. But in the moment, I was desperate to protect her in any way I could.

"James," she whispered desperately, the tears now streaming down her face. "Please. What's…what's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Stop lying to me, James!" she snapped, anger seeping through her every word. "I'm not an idiot. I see what's going on. I see you falling apart. I see you afraid to live your life. I see that you're struggling to do anything besides work because you're afraid of losing control. I see you frightened of losing anyone else in your life and in that fear, you're avoiding everyone. I see you, James. So please just stop hiding."

"Lily, please just stop," I pleaded, shutting my eyes in a slight panic. I didn't want her seeing the things I was afraid of. I didn't want her knowing that my fears weren't just fears: they were reality. I wasn't trying to be distracted. I wasn't trying to push the people I loved away. But it was about the only thing I felt like I could do that made it slightly easier to breathe during the day.

"Stop what?" she asked, shooting me a look. "Stop caring? Stop loving you?"

"Stop telling me what I'm thinking or feeling," I muttered, shaking my head. "I already have a conscience. I don't need you adding to it."

She scowled. "I don't even know who you are anymore," she said softly. "It's like you enjoy being defensive and jumping down my throat. I know you're unhappy, but don't-"

"What makes you think I'm unhappy?"

She frowned. "Besides everything you say and do?" she muttered.

I sighed, wondering why I even bothered to ask.

"Are you unhappy with me? With us?" she dared to ask, her voice small and quiet. It was filled with a fearful desperation.

"Lily," I said, shooting her a look.

"Well, what do you expect me to say!?" she asked, clearly irritated. "You don't even talk to me so I have to come up with my own conclusions! You being unhappy in our relationship certainly explains why you forgot our Anniversary."

"I thought this wasn't about me forgetting our Anniversary?" I muttered.

Her lips pursed like it did when she was clearly irritated but didn't want to say anything she'd regret.

I sighed. "Let's have at it, Lily. Just say whatever it is you're holding back."

"I'm not holding back."

I shot her a look. "Now who's the one not talking?"

"At least I can say that I love you," she snapped.

Ouch. Yeah, I deserved that. I didn't reply.

"Once again," she muttered, "Not the answer I was looking for."

I didn't respond. I couldn't respond.

I could tell she was biting down on her lip to fight the tears from falling. "James," she said softly, her voice hoarse with hurt. "Whatever you're going through right now, I hope you know that I am going to be here for you during it all."

I know. That's the problem.

"Everything is going to be okay. It…it has to be."

No. No, everything wasn't going to be okay. Voldemort was after me. He was after Lily. He was after everyone. My life was the opposite of okay. And her saying it was going to be okay was just a reminder of how little she knew about the games Voldemort was playing with me. With her.

I had to turn away from her gaze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. I could barely look at her without wondering what Voldemort had in store for her. I could feel panic enveloping my every bone, scared for myself, scared for her, scared for the world. It was never going to end. I was always going to feel panic. Until I did something about it, nothing would be able to change. I'd continue to be distracted. I'd continue to avoid Lily. I'd continue to avoid my own damn feelings. I'd continue to try to gain some sort of control over my life.

I'd continue to wonder if that day was going to be the last day I'd see Lily alive.

"James, talk to me," she whispered so desperately.

I didn't respond, shutting my eyes immediately as I tried to remember the life Lily and I shared before Voldemort invoked the fear of God in me. I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. Everything was happening too fast. I was losing too much too quickly. And I was losing myself in the meantime. Which I could actually handle if I wasn't so frightened that I would lose Lily next. She had been there by my side through everything I ever had to endure and now when I needed her most, what I really needed was to distance myself from her and from the overwhelming love we had for each other. But how could I make her understand that? How could I make her see that all of the distance and detachment I had been putting between us was for her?

I thought back to the moment just a few months earlier when she was lying unconscious in a St. Mungo's hospital bed after being attacked by Bellatrix and Rodolphus in the Ministry training facilities. After Dumbledore told me Voldemort was going after everyone in my life, I made Lily a promise.

"And if you wake up, I promise I will do whatever I have to do to protect you. To keep you safe. Alive. Whatever it takes, I will do it. I love you."

Well the time has come for me to protect her in the only way I knew how.

"Please look at me, James," she said, taking a step towards me.

"I can't," I whispered almost immediately, jerking back from her.

She frowned. "Why not?" she pleaded, her voice shaky as she once again reached out to grab my hand and squeezing it tightly. This time, she refused to let go.

I realized in that moment that it was time I forced her to let go.

"Because I don't love you anymore."

The words were out of my mouth before I could even stop them.

Actually, it took me a second to even realize I had said the words aloud.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I will never forget the look on her face. Pure and utter painful shock. And then suddenly, it was hatred staring back at me. In a split second, I changed everything between us. I told the girl I had been dating for four years that I fell out of love with her. Which was a complete lie. I thought it was my only option in that moment or she would have continued prodding me until I told her the truth. And I couldn't give her the truth or she never would have let me let her go. So I said the only words I could think of that could give me an out. It gave me the option of protecting her. Of saving her. I could never explain to her why I did it because then she would know that I hadn't meant it and yet I still said it. She would know that I had purposely hurt her without a second thought due to the built-up fears in my head. And she would never forgive me. She will never forgive me.

And I'll never forgive myself for hurting her.

Yet, I was oddly okay with that. I had to be. She would distance herself from me and that was the best thing for her. It might have been the only thing for her.

She let go of my hand immediately as the world around us froze in horror.

"What…what did you just say?" she choked out in a hurt whisper, taking a step back from me.

I could feel a rush of hot tears spring to the back of my eyes, but I blinked them back quickly. I had already said the words aloud. Now it was time to make her believe them.

"I'm…I'm sorry," I whispered lamely, shaking my head in agonized guilt.

"You're sorry?" she snapped, her words on the verge of hysterics. "You're sorry!? Is that all you really have to say to me right now, James?"

I wanted to reach out and tell her I didn't mean it. I wanted to tell her I have loved her since we were naïve eleven-year-olds and never stopped. I wanted to say that I would love her forever. I wanted to hug her and make love to her and tell her to never leave me.

I didn't say or do any of that. I merely stood there staring at her, watching the shock in her expression turn to overwhelming betrayal and pain and watching the hatred in her eyes grow stronger.

I could tell she had no idea what to even say or do. She was frozen, clearly running the words over and over in her head until she could truly comprehend what had just happened. Eventually she did speak. Words that would cut through my heart like a painful knife. But words that came as a strange sort of relief.

"I never want to see you again," she whispered hoarsely, not bothering to wipe the frantic tears that were now streaming down her face. And before I could barely register her words, she was out the door and out of my life.

I crumbled to the floor, muttering "What did I just do?" over and over again.

It's a question that I would never stop asking myself.

A/N: ::Ducks as the tomatoes gets thrown at her:: Raise your hand if you hate me right now? If it helps, my hand is raised, too! But c'mon, what would this story be without a bit of drama? Did I say a bit? I meant a lot... ::ducks as more tomatoes are thrown:: But here's a bit of consolation - we know that he and Lily end up together so no matter what hard times they are going through, we all know it's going to work out in the end! And let's not also forget what else happened in this chapter - Keegan finds out Sydny had been there the night her fiancé died, Sirius spends a bit of time with Mrs. P as they worry about James (clearly for good reason), Sirius and Keegan decide it would be a good idea to have a small snog session, James forgets his anniversary (ass), and Lily finds out that James had lied about his whereabouts on Christmas Eve (have I said ass yet?). So pretty much this chapter can be summed up with - did that just happen!? Guess you'll have to review to find out what happens next.

Up next: lots of tequila, James' friends try to knock some sense into him, and if you thought a break-up was bad something even more shocking happens next!