Goodbyes On The Balcony

by ByeByeBirdie

3 years after Hogwarts, James and Lily are back with old and new friends by their side. Their lives are motivated by fear, their world surrounded by immense danger. As they each fight for their lives and for their loved ones in a world centered around Voldemort, the struggle to survive the war against him is nothing compared to the struggle to survive the wars within themselves.

47. Of Bank Tellers, Balls, & the Truth

A/N: Wait a minute, it's only been two weeks? I must be getting better at this whole updating thing! Well, where did we leave you last chapter? Oh, that's right with a lovely cliffhanger! I hope this chapter makes up for the lack of James & Lily in the past few chapters because this has been one of the chapters I know all of you have been waiting for. So without further ago, chapter 47!

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. I wish I was. But I'm not. So if you think I own the plot or most of the characters then I'm flattered, but you may need your head examined. So I will simply leave you with this HP pickup line my friend told me earlier this week: "Are you a Dementor? Because you're taking my breath away!"

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Goodbyes on the Balcony

Chapter 47: Of Bank Tellers, Balls, & the Truth

By ByeByeBirdie

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++SYDNY++

Keegan's shock didn't last long, surprising me most of all. Her eyes had widened for about a half second before a sense of understanding filled her gaze. It was clear to me she hadn't just been guessing who I was. She knew. She needed confirmation, but she knew. I don't know how or why, but the cover I had spent nine years building was now blown. I wanted to run and hide but there was nowhere left for me to turn to.

"Wow," Keegan eventually murmured in a hoarse whisper. "That's…wow."

I shrugged coolly. "That's one way of putting it," I muttered.

She frowned hesitantly, her expression filling with hesitation. "I-I don't know what to say here."

As if that was a surprise. What did one say when they discovered that the daughter of a coldblooded murderer who had been in hiding for nine years was staring them in the face? "There's nothing to say, Keegan," I sighed. "You…you figured it out. Congratulations."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't think this is a congratulatory kind of moment," she snorted.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the constriction that was wrapping around my heart with intense panic. "Well, what else is it supposed to be, Keegan?" I snapped, harsher than intended. "Was I under the impression I might be able to hide the fact that my father was an unstable, ruthless assassin for the rest of my life? Yes, I was hoping so. But I learned at a young enough age that I rarely get what I want."

She simply nodded, a look of empathy filling her expression. Which wasn't an emotion I had expected to see. "Unfortunately, you can't choose what family you're born into," she muttered.

I blinked my confusion, narrowing my eyes at her. "That's all you have to say?"

Frowning, she shrugged. "Were you expecting more?"

"Yeah," I snorted, glaring at her. "I was expecting you to interrogate me until I hexed you out of pure frustration."

Hesitating, she merely shrugged again.

Which just irritated me more. "Shouldn't you be interrogating me?" I questioned further. "Don't you want to be interrogating me? Isn't that your job?"

Meeting my confused gaze, she sighed. "I'm not looking for answers here," she admitted. "I'm just…I'm looking for you."

My heart skipped a beat. I could have asked her what that meant, but I couldn't get the words out. Because frankly, I didn't really even know who I was anymore. I had suppressed so much of my past which inevitably made me come out a completely different person in the end. I had turned cold and wary. I hid my heart from everyone, including myself. I had become somewhat robotic, focusing my energy on my work so as not to focus on anything else. I wasn't me. I was some scared version of me, too harmed by my past to let myself spend any second of any day thinking about what could have been. Who would I be today if my father hadn't done what he did? Who would I be today if my mother as still alive to guide me through life and my brothers were still there for me to watch over? Who would I be today?

"Well," I murmured, clearing my throat. "I'm here. You found me. So just…just ask your questions, Keegan. I know you have them."

Slowly, she shook her head. "Not really," she whispered softly. "I'm…I'm sorry if I caught you off-guard."

I frowned. This was in no way the reaction I expected from someone who learned my darkest secret. This was unexpected and confusing. For nine years, I had thought of what this moment would entail should someone figure it out. I expected overwhelming shock. I expected hours of endless questioning. I expected disgust and shame. I didn't expect indifference. I didn't expect acceptance. I didn't expect a goddamned apology! Glaring at her, I said with narrowed eyes, "Did you just apologize to me?"

As she glanced down at me, I saw a sort of darkness in her eyes that made me hesitate with curiosity. She looked more troubled by my elusive news than I did. I was about to say as much, when she responded. "Yeah, it's your life, Sydny. It's never easy running from the past, but it's your past to do with what you like."

This conversation was really not going in the direction I had anticipated. "No, it's easy running from the past," I argued. "What's not easy is running from yourself."

I saw the surprise flicker in her blue eyes as she nodded. "No," she agreed. "It isn't."

I suddenly had a hunch that she was thinking about her ex-fiancé, Tristan Moreau. "Why do I get the feeling this conversation is more about you than it is me?"

Her head swiveled in my direction quickly, the panic resting in her expression. "What? No. I just…well, it's not really any of my business, is it?"

"Not really, but that doesn't mean you're not curious," I snorted.

She frowned. "This isn't about me, Sydny."

Clearly it was a little. And if she and I were closer than we were, I would have interrogated her about Tristan. I would have dug deeper and I probably would have realized that she and I were more similar than we were different. But I didn't ask her about it. It wasn't worth me getting into because frankly, I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know that she still couldn't rid the past no matter how hard she tried running. I didn't want to know that she still asked herself the what-ifs every minute of every day. I didn't want to see how much pain she was still in. Because then I would have seen a lot of myself in her and I didn't want to believe that anyone else could be in as much pain as I was every day.

So instead I focused on me. "Well, then if it's about me, maybe you should start asking some damned questions so I can get them over with and you can go on your merry little way."

She sighed. "I already told you. I don't have any questions, Sydny," she murmured, her tone almost on the verge of impatient.

"How the hell could you not have any questions, Keegan!?" I snapped. "Do you not realize the relevance of the information you somehow stumbled across? Do you not get the severity of what you've found? Do you not know what this could do to the world? To me? I mean, how the hell did you find out anyway?"

She frowned, leaning up against James' desk as she scrutinized me hesitantly. Eventually she reached into her bag and handed me a folder. I could see the smudged word "Executioner" scribbled across the top as my hands grazed the folder. I didn't open it almost afraid of what I would find. It had been nine years since I let myself think about the horrible actions of my father and I wasn't so sure I wanted to be reminded of it.

"It was Mr. Potter's," she said softly. "His crime report of the...er…incidence."

I snorted. "Gee, that might be the nicest word anyone has ever used to describe the murder spree my father went on."

She cringed but remained mute.

I glanced back down at the folder with a heavy sigh. As I stared at it, the memories of the day I found out about my father came flooding back to me. I had been pulled from my bed by Headmistress Lorenzo and once back in her office, she told me the news the best she could. As she spoke of the Muggle deaths and specifically, my mother and my two younger brothers, I remember being horrified and I remember the tears streaming down my cheeks and I remember feeling completely blind-sided. But what I remember most is the shame in my Headmistress' eyes as she spoke to me. Shame that I, too, felt.

Slowly, I opened the folder, my fingers trembling on the pages. I didn't read in full. I merely skimmed. But skimming was enough.

I slammed it shut, tossing it on to my desk with a trembling sigh. I wasn't much of a crier at all, but I felt tears prickling the back of my eyes as I thought about what was written in that report. I blinked them away quickly, refusing to look up at her. "Why do you have this?" I whispered, nodding towards the folder.

She cringed and it suddenly dawned on me that I already knew the answer. "Oh," I murmured. "This was research for the exposé wasn't it."

She locked eyes with me and slowly nodded. "Yes."

Great. So I hadn't a chance in hell in keeping this quiet. I was going to be exposed for the world to hear about. I would have nowhere to run after that. Even if I wanted to, there was nowhere to go and no one to turn to. My secrets were about to explode and I couldn't do anything about it. Nine years of pretending to be someone else was coming to an end. That should have petrified me but for some reason, I felt a bit of weight being lifted off my shoulders. "So I suppose you've worked out why the Potters are so heavily targeted by Voldemort?" I muttered, not wanting to think about me anymore.

"I have a hunch it has to do with the fact that Mr. Potter blew his right-hand man into smithereens."

Her bluntness should have made me crack a smile but I wasn't entirely in the mood for smiling at that moment. Not only because my secret was staring us both in the face, but because there was another secret, maybe even a larger secret than the fact that I was the Executioner's daughter, that now only two people in the entire world knew to be true.

James Potter was a huge target for the sole reason that my father died at the hands of his father.

I felt my hands begin to shake before realizing it wasn't just my hands. It was my entire body, shaking with the truth I had denied so many people for so long.

Shutting my eyes, I murmured, "I was allowed to move to the British offices in an attempt to protect James. Needless to say, I haven't been doing a good job at it."

She frowned. "You're here protecting him?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Well, that's irony at its best."

I attempted to crack a smile but failed in every way possible. "Yeah," I sighed. "I know."

I could see her staring at me with a scrutinizing gaze, but I refused to look up. "Why did you become an Auror?" she blurted out.

I blinked, the question throwing me for a loop. There were tons of questions I had expected from her, but that wasn't one of them. "My father killed my family in cold blood because he was playing the part of some puppet to Voldemort," I sneered. "What other job out there was I supposed to want?"

She blinked. "A bank teller?"

Okay, that time I did crack a smile. "That certainly would have been safer."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Though I'm pretty sure that job is dedicated to mainly goblins."

"Still would have been safer."

I attempted to chuckle, but it came out like more of a grimace. A frown crept on to my face as I glanced back over at her. I was tired of his hesitation between us. I was tired of us dancing around the subject. It was out there. The truth was staring at both of us. So I finally just lashed out because there wasn't anything left for me to do. "You want the whole story, Keegan? Because I'll give it to you. You may be standing there acting as if you don't want the answers, but I know you do. How could you not?"

"You don't have to-"

"I'll tell you about how I never suspected for even a minute that my father could be a cold-blooded murderer. I'll tell you how I was fast asleep when it happened. I'll tell you how I was summoned to my Headmistress' office and was scared out of my damned mind because I had never been called there before. Especially in the middle of the night! I'll tell you how she looked at me as vermin when she informed me what had happened, as if I was going to up and kill her just because my father was apparently a killer. I'll tell you how I barely had time to mourn the loss of my family because I was too worried what the rest of the world was going to think of me. I'll tell you about my boyfriend of the time who dumped me only five minutes after I informed him of what my father did. And I'll tell you how I was given the chance to live a normal life by Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody and I jumped on it. Not necessarily because I wanted to be an Auror but because I was a coward. I didn't want to face my friends or my classmates or my professors or my boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend. If my own friends and boyfriend couldn't stand the thought of me then how I was to expect anyone else to? I needed an out and Albus and Alastor gave me one. I became an Auror, and yeah, it feels good to do everything in my power to bring down Voldemort, to bring down the guy who caused my father to go on his rampage, but I knew deep down that I had no other choice. It was the only thing left for me."

Keegan didn't respond, letting my rant sink in as she gazed at me with inquisitive eyes. Her scrutinizing stare was making me slightly uncomfortable as I shifted in my chair. I was about to tell her to please say something when she finally spoke. "That doesn't make you a coward," she said slowly. "It makes you a normal human being."

I blinked. "I'm not so sure I've ever been described as normal before."

She smiled sadly. "It's easy running away from your problems, Sydny. It's not so easy sticking around long enough to face them. Believe me when I say that I'm sure everyone can attest to that."

I really didn't get it. Being a reporter, she was supposed to be drilling me with questions and requesting an exclusive interview and instead she was being, dare I say it, empathetic. It was unsettling. "That's really all you have to say?" I blurted out.

She shrugged. "It's your life, Sydny. Who am I to judge?"

"Uh, a Daily Prophet reporter?" I snorted.

She frowned, quickly turning away from me. "Well, it's your lucky day because I'm no longer a reporter for the Daily Prophet."

"What?"

"I quit. Yesterday."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

I frowned. "I guess not."

She merely shrugged, the expression on her face unchanging.

"So what does this mean in regards to the exposé?" I asked curiously.

"I still plan to publish it if that's what James wants," she responded. "But it will be through a private publisher. The Daily Prophet will have no say over it."

My eyebrow shot up inquisitively. "Malone must be having a field day over it."

"Probably, but I don't give a shit about him."

"I'm pretty sure two-thirds of the wizarding world would agree with you there."

She smirked, slowly lifting herself off from the desk as she took a hesitant step out of the cubicle. "Listen, Sydny, I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened. It doesn't have to go into the exposé and you can continue being Sydny LaFevre, the kickass Auror from France who has been dubbed Slaughterhouse Syd by the entire wizarding world for a reason. Really, it can stay between us."

I was floored by her willingness to keep my secret. While she had always seemed a tad more sane than the rest of the Daily Prophet reporters, she was still a reporter and therefore she had to be cutthroat. She almost seemed to be an entirely different person than her articles led me to believe. "So that's all I am? Some fraud pretending to be a kickass Auror?"

Her eyebrow shot up. "Is that how you see yourself? As a fraud?"

I said nothing, a frown filling my jawline.

"You're not a fraud, Sydny," she argued, shaking her head. "You're just someone who needed a second chance."

If only it was that easy.

"And I'm letting you keep that second chance," she murmured with a shrug. "You don't need to be a part of the Potter exposé. This is about James and his family. When I decide to write a biography on the Executioner's family, I'll come find you."

I found myself frowning unexpectedly. I should have been overjoyed that she was so willing to keep my past a secret but my heart was aching with some sort of guilty nostalgia. I hadn't been lying before. I really have been looking over my shoulder for nine years. And I could continue living in fear and discomfort. Or maybe I could do exactly what Keegan had hinted before and choose to face it. If James Potter was ready to face all of his fears, shouldn't I do the same? Especially considering his fears only existed because of my father. Maybe, just maybe, the target could be lifted off of him if even just for a second if I was willing to admit to the world who I was. Maybe this was the way I could finally protect him. Maybe this was it. "Maybe it should be both," I said softly.

She blinked, her eyes narrowing into curious slits. "What?"

I didn't respond immediately, my mouth growing terribly dry as I realized that while I've claimed I've been hiding from the rest of the world, it was really me I had been avoiding all these years. I rode straight to the top of the Auror food chain because I put every single thought and energy into my job so as not to think about how screwed up my life had become. I wanted to move to Britain because I had grown restless in France and thought I would be better off doing the job I know Moody and Dumbledore wanted close by to them. I graciously agreed to protect James Potter the best I could knowing it could be yet again something else to distract me from my not-so-perfect life. It had always been about distractions. It had always been about everyone else. Never me. And now that Keegan was standing in front of me telling me that my life could continue on that way, it made me feel unexpectedly sad for the many years I had lacked any sort of individual identity. Did I want to be identified with the Executioner? Not particularly. But nine years had passed and it was still very much who I was no matter how much I wanted to deny it.

Well maybe it about time I stopped trying to deny who I was and just accept it.

I turned to look at Keegan. "Tell me that you wouldn't love to be the one to tell the world that not only have you found the long-lost daughter of the Executioner but she's been staring everyone in the face for nine years."

She didn't respond but I saw the hesitance in her eyes.

"I didn't think so," I said with a knowing shrug. "Keep it in, Keegan. I know you want-"

"It's not about what I want, it's about what you want. And I've got to say, recently I discovered that maybe facing your past isn't it's all cracked up to be," she interrupted firmly. "Sometimes hiding the things in your past is a far better idea than being open about it."

"Far better for who?" I asked, my eyebrow shooting up. "You? Or the rest of the world?"

She met my gaze and frowned. "Does it make a difference?"

I shrugged. "As long as you're okay with the person you've become, who gives a shit about the rest of the world, right?"

Our eyes continued to stay locked and I was very aware of how awkward this conversation should have been considering I barely knew Keegan. And yet the two of us seemed to be speaking the exact same language. A part of me did wanted to know what it was about her and who she used to be that she had long been hiding, but I realized that it didn't matter much. Our pasts were in the past. And in the end, the only person we were ever truly trying to hide from was ourselves.

"So you're okay with the person you've become?" she dared to ask, the frown on her face filled with curiosity.

I sighed, afraid she was going to ask that. "That's a loaded question if you ask me," I murmured.

"Yeah," she murmured. "And if you're anything like me, the answer is always different."

I offered her a lopsided smile. "Life is constantly changing and sometimes it's impossible trying to keep up."

She hesitated before smiling back. "Now that I can agree with." She met my knowing gaze before turning around to walk away, but I stopped her before she could get very far.

"Hey, Rouge," I called out after her.

She glanced behind her shoulder at me. "Hm?"

My heart began to race a mile a minute as I thought of the exposé and Voldemort and my father. But my thoughts ultimately rested on James Potter. I had done one hell of a lousy job at protecting him since I got to Britain and that was supposed to be my job. Instead of him feeling any sort of protection, he just felt lost and broken and anxious. But maybe, just maybe, this was my last chance to take the heat off of James and put it on someone else. Myself. "Keep it in the exposé," I spoke softly. "Maybe facing my past won't be all it's cracked up to be but maybe it will be. There's really only one way to find out."

She didn't say anything immediately but I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, the hesitance radiating from her eyes. "You don't have to do this."

I frowned, sinking into my chair. "It's been nine years, Keegan," I spoke slowly. "So yeah. I think I do. I can't keep running and hiding from it. It's too exhausting. And it sounds like you may know a little something about that."

She didn't say anything, quickly turning away from me as I attempted to meet her gaze. I think if we were any other two women in the world, we could wind up being best friends but seeing as being guarded and standoffish was our way of coping with the tragedy in our pasts, it would take a lot more than one empathetic conversation to get us spilling our souls to each other.

Eventually Keegan left but I couldn't get her out of my mind. I didn't know much about her relationship with Tristan Moreau but based on the one conversation we had shared about him, it was pretty obvious that letting go wasn't coming easy for her. And for so long I pretended that I had let go of my past but how can someone let go of something when it was embedded in a long-time web of secrets? I was ready to stop looking over my shoulder in fear and guilt. If people wanted to judge me, let them. If Voldemort wanted to come after me, let him. It was about damned time I took back control of my own life. If not for me, then for Cindy Fevriello.

Now if only I could convince James to do the same.

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++KEEGAN++

I trudged into my empty apartment more confused than ever. About myself, about Sydny, and what really sucked was I was also confused about Sirius. I was supposed to be over him. I was supposed to be mad at him. I was still mad at him. Okay, maybe not mad. Hurt. And I really hated admitting I was hurt because that meant he actually meant something to me. And I wanted so desperately to believe that he never meant anything.

Shaking my head, I rid all thoughts of him as I dropped on to my bed with a curious sigh. I glanced over to the corner of my room where a stash of folders still rest on the floor from when I busied myself with reading about the Executioner instead of cleaning everything up. I didn't know what to make of Sydny LaFevre. Or Cindy Fevriello. Whatever her name was. She had been through one of the worst public tragedies within the wizarding world and yet she seemed to be driven by pure determination and confidence. She didn't let the past affect her. She didn't let the past define who she was. She was one of the strongest people I knew, now more than ever, and I was actually jealous of her for that. I was jealous of the Executioner's daughter.

What the hell was the matter with me?

I was shocked and impressed that she appeared to be so willing to let the world in on her secret. She didn't even seem to hesitate. She clearly wanted to face it and I strongly commended her for it. I wish I could face my past and my secrets and my insecurities. I wish I could face anything except for the pain and angst that always seemed to stare me in the face. I wanted to be like Sydny. Hell, I wanted to be like Riley, even Sirius, who dared to face the truth of their past. I wanted to be like anyone but me, so scared to let go of the person who had given me every reason to live. How could I just let that go?

Instead if even attempting to answer that, I immediately picked up my quill and began writing the last chapter of the exposé.

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++JAMES++

This was a day for stalling. I woke up with Sirius and Remus' voices ringing in my ear. I couldn't get rid of them no matter how hard I tried, but I went off to work in an attempt to think about something else. It worked for a good part of the morning, but the offices grew quiet around lunch. I was supposed to meet up with Remus, but canceled on him because I really didn't want to hear any more of his comments on my lack of truth-telling to Lily.

When I returned from lunch on my own, I was very aware of how fidgety Sydny suddenly appeared to be. Yet something else to keep me from thinking about Lily.

"Will you quit tapping your quill?"

She jumped, glancing over her shoulder. "What?"

I shot her a look. "You keep tapping that damn quill against the table and it's very distracting."

"Oh. Uh…yeah. Sorry."

I narrowed my eyes but she returned to the crime report she was in the middle of writing. No less than two minutes later, the tapping once again started up.

"Sydny!"

She jumped, spilling her water across the desk in the meantime. She swore under her breath, muttering a quick Scourgify curse to clean up the water before glancing in my direction. "What?"

"Stop tapping your goddamned quill before I shove it in your eye!"

"Why are you jumping down my throat?" she muttered irritably.

"Why are you acting all twitchy?"

She frowned, shaking her head. "I'm not being twitchy."

"You most certainly are."

"It's nothing. It's just…I mean…yeah, it's nothing," she muttered with a sigh.

I frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Uh huh."

I didn't believe her in the slightest, but when I yelled at her for drumming her fingers across the table, she continued to act like nothing was wrong. And when I scolded her for jiggling her foot uncontrollably, she told me I was the one being jumpy. And when I threw my quill at her for staring off into space and ignoring me when I was attempting to talk to her, she glared at me and stormed off.

I knew something was bothering her, but I also didn't blame her because I was also acting distracted. She had accused me of being jumpy and I definitely was.

I ended up leaving work at a decent hour that evening, work no longer giving me the distractions I had needed. And when I got home, I polished my broom (even though I hadn't used it in months), I organized the kitchen pantry, I tidied the backyard, I went for a necessary jog, and I even cleaned my room. Cleaned my room. I can't remember the last time I bothered doing that. Turns out, there's actually carpet on the floor! And the only reason I did any of those things was to ignore the voice in the back of my head pleading with me to talk to Lily. Well, actually it was Sirius' voice. And Remus'. And everyone else's but mine. My head wasn't telling me to talk to Lily. My heart was the one doing all the talking and my head was the one trying to stop it.

If you ever wanted to know what would win out in an all-out war between the heart and the head, it was unfortunately always going to be the heart. And after one final conversation with Remus, I knew there was only one option I had.

"Hey."

I jumped, pocketing my wand as the last of the clothes that had been strewn on my floor flew into the hamper. "Damn, you scared me," I said.

"By saying 'hey?'" he snickered. "You must have been really lost in thought. Thinking about Lily, hm?"

I scowled. "Unless you're here to offer your vacuuming skills, you're officially free to leave."

He chuckled. "Just figured you'd want to know that our dear friend Padfoot has done the unthinkable and actually fallen for a girl."

My eyebrows shot upwards. "Keegan?"

"Well, it sure as hell ain't Riley."

I perched on the edge of my bed hesitantly. "So, did Padfoot really tell you this? Because I have to say, he's been pretty set on ignoring all of his feelings lately, so it seems a bit out of the blue."

He shook his head. "He didn't tell me. He told Keegan."

"What?"

He nodded, smirking.

My brow furrowed. "But…what?"

Remus laughed, leaning up against the doorframe with crossed arms. "Last night."

I was still beyond confused. "What did she say?"

"Apparently nothing."

Even more confused. "What?"

Remus chuckled. "I don't know. Apparently he did the first noble thing in his entire life and told her how he felt, then told her he'd wait for her to make a decision, and walked away so as not to force her into a decision at that moment."

My mouth hung open. "When did Padfoot grow balls?"

Remus laughed. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure he's been regretting his decision ever since, so his balls may still be lacking."

I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief. "Well, damn. Good for Padfoot," I whistled, rather impressed with my friend who for the last four years had refused to believe he even had any emotions beyond sulkiness.

"I know," Remus said, shrugging. "Do you think maybe it's time for you to grow some balls?"

I glanced up to glare at him, but it came out more like a grimace. "Where would I even start, Moony?"

He smirked. "With the truth."

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't form. Because he was right. After everything Lily and I had been through, all that was left between us was the truth that I had been long denying her.

And that is how I found myself standing outside Lily's apartment late that night. I knocked, fully aware that I hadn't a clue what I was going to say to her.

Keegan looked awful as she answered the door. I'd have to remember to ask her about that later. She didn't say anything, just staring up at me with reproachful eyes.

"Is Lily home?" I asked, clearing my throat at the disapproving look on her face.

"Do you know that she refuses to answer the door because she's so damned afraid it's going to be you standing there?"

I frowned. "Is that a yes?"

"James."

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair nervously. "I need to speak to her, Keegan. After what happened between us over the weekend, I just-"

"After what happened between you two over the weekend, you need to learn to leave her alone," she interrupted, shooting me a look. "She needs time, James, and you popping in to check on her every few days isn't giving her the clarity that she deserves."

"Time?" I replied feebly. "I don't have time, Keegan. She's leaving in two days. I-I need to…to…"

She sighed. "To what?"

I really wish I knew.

"To tell her you love her? To tell her to stay? To tell her you're sorry?"

I frowned. "To start."

"She doesn't want to hear any of that right now," she sighed, shaking her head. "Not from you. She just wants to pack her things and move to the States so she can start living her life again. Why can't you just let her figure things out on her own?"

I had a very strong suspicion that she wasn't just talking about Lily anymore. "I want her to do that, too," I found myself saying in a soft voice, ignoring the elephant in the room. "But I also just… just…"

"Yeah?"

I could literally feel the painful ache tugging at my heart as I whispered, "I just want her."

She glared at me. "You had her, James! And you let her-"

"Go. Yeah, I got that," I muttered reluctantly, wincing at her un-sugarcoated words.

She didn't respond, a frown protruding in her judging expression. "She just needs to move on, James. She wants to let go. She wants to put the past in the past. She wants to face something other than pain and angst. She wants to face reality."

I frowned, sensing such guilt in her words. Guilt that confirmed the fact that she wasn't just talking about Lily. She was talking about herself. And for a mere second, I wondered exactly what happened between her and Sirius. But only for a mere second before thoughts of Lily consumed my mind.

"I-I just don't know what to do anymore," I admitted. And as I said the words, I realized how true they were. I was so completely lost, unsure where I even fit in anymore. I had isolated myself from everyone – my friends, my family, my coworkers, Lily. They had once been the only thing I could count on in my entire life and I had cast them all aside out of fear. Fear. Once upon a time, I hadn't been afraid of a damned thing. I had been strong-willed, independent, and I went after the things I wanted without so much as a second thought. My life had once been so easy to live because I let it be easy. And now? The only reason it was so bloody difficult was because I had made it that way. I missed the life I had. I missed the person I was. But mostly, I just missed Lily.

"I can't let her leave until I tell her the truth," I said softly, locking eyes with Keegan.

"You've had two months to tell her the truth, Potter."

I frowned. "I-I know, but-"

"There is no but," she said softly, shaking her head. "She's leaving, James. Why are you fucking with her mind the moment she finally wants some space? Can't you just let her go?"

No. No, I couldn't. "Have you let go of Tristan?"

She scowled. "You been talking to Black?"

I sensed unexpected hostility in her voice. "Er…no."

"Remus then?"

I winced. "Maybe."

She rolled her eyes. "Go home, Potter. I mean it."

"I can't. I won't."

She glared at me. "What exactly do you plan to get out of being here, James? What are you trying to do? What is your intention?"

A very damned good question. "She needs to know the truth" is what I said.

She sighed irritably. "You keep saying that, but what you don't get it is that she wanted the truth two months ago. Hell, she wanted it five months ago! She doesn't want it now. She is finally trying to reclaim her life and you standing here is going to continue to destroy her. You wanting to tell her the truth is about you, not her. And right now, the truth is simply another form of the same ol' bullshit that you've been spewing for months now. The truth is just another spun version of the same lies. The truth is nothing. The truth doesn't set you free. It just makes you feel better about yourself while making someone else feel worse. Lily already feels shitty enough, James. She doesn't need you coming in here making her hate herself more than she already does."

Every word she spoke was dripping with bitterness, and I knew in every crevice of my heart that this had something to do with Sirius. I wanted to ask. I wanted to know what was going on between her and Sirius, but I was there for a reason. I couldn't digress or I would chicken out. And I couldn't chicken out. Not anymore. "She shouldn't be hating herself," I muttered. "That's why I'm here. I…it's time I owned up."

Her eyes narrowed. "Alright, I gotta know. What exactly are you owning up to, James? What is this truth you feel you need to weight her down with?"

I frowned, fumbling with the side of my glasses nervously. "Voldemort isn't going to stop until I'm dead, everyone in my family is dead, and every person we ever loved or will ever love is dead," I said softly. "There's no way out, Keegan. Believe me, I've spent hours, days even, trying to come up any sort of solution that doesn't leave all of us completely devastated by inevitable tragedy. Where we could actually live happily ever after. Where our worlds aren't consumed by gruesome deaths. And you know what I came up with?"

She merely shook her head.

"Nothing," I croaked out. "I came up with zilch. There is no way out of this, Keegan! This is the life I am destined to live and I'll be damned if I'm going to allow myself to drag other people into it who don't need to be. This is my life. But it doesn't have to be theirs. It…it shouldn't be theirs. Lily…she deserved better." I could hear my voice practically breaking as I spoke the words, succumbed by so much guilty emotion.

She blinked and I could see the horror slowly growing in her eyes. It was obvious that the realization was settling in and I knew I was in for a much-deserved insult. "You bloody bastard," she said softly, her lip curling into a snarl. "You let her go on purpose, didn't you?"

I cringed. "Keegan, please don't-"

"You dared to look her in the eyes and tell her what might have possibly been the worst thing she has ever heard? You actually told her you didn't love her! To her face! Who do you think you are?" she snapped.

"Tell me you wouldn't have done the same for Tristan," I whispered desperately, my voice strained with helplessness. "Tell me you wouldn't have done everything in your power to save him if you could. Tell me you wouldn't have let him go if it meant keeping him alive. Tell me you wouldn't have done the same."

I could see the tears only barely brimming in her eyes, the betrayal very clear in her haunted expression. "That is so unfair of you, James," she whispered, shaking her head in clear disapproval. She blinked the tears away, her bottom lip trembling as she spoke. "Yes, I would have done all that I could to protect him within reason because that's what love is. You'd do anything and everything you could to keep those you love safe and alive and away from any danger. But here's the thing, James. You can't always protect them no matter how hard you try. No, all you can do is love them and have faith that when you're not around, they'll have the ability to protect themselves."

"Faith wasn't good enough, Keegan," I croaked out. "Blind faith still had Lily being attacked numerous times. I couldn't just wait around for it to happen again."

"That's what love is!" she barked, glaring at me. "You're supposed to love someone unconditionally no matter the circumstances. You're supposed to constantly worry about the other person of every minute of every day. You're supposed to pray they stay safe and alive through the hard times. You're supposed to want to love them more than you love yourself. You're supposed to have that undeniable desire to protect them from danger no matter how frightened you are of the state of our wizarding world. What you are not supposed to do is let that desire to protect overthrow four years of a relationship!"

Damn, she was angry. And not just everyday run-of-the-mill angry. She was livid, her eyes blazing with intense hatred.

If this is how Keegan felt, I could only imagine what Lily's reaction might be.

"Because let me tell you something, Potter. Even knowing what happened to Tristan in the end, you should know that I wouldn't go back and change a damned thing. I would still fall in love with him all over again. Because as much as I wish I could say he was alive today, I'm never going to regret any of the memories we shared. And that's the difference between me and you, James. Because I actually know what it feels like to lose the person I love. But yours is very much alive and one day you are going to wake up and regret what you did to her."

She tried slamming the door in my face (rightfully so), but I put my hand up against it before she could get away with me. "Why do you think I'm here?" I responded almost immediately, my voice hoarse with angst.

The anger in her eyes didn't dissipate as she gazed up at me, but I could see remorse settling into her expression. "Why did you have to hurt her in the process of trying to protect her?" she whispered desperately.

I blinked, unsure where the question came from. "I didn't have much of a choice, Keegan."

"Uh, yeah you did. It's called not hurting her."

"What other choice did I have, Keegan?" I repeated feebly, my bottom lip trembling. "She never would have let me do it if I had just told her the truth. She never would have walked away from me if she knew I was just trying to protect her. She never would have let me let her go."

She frowned. "No," she said softly. "No, she definitely wouldn't have. But that's what love is. For better or for worse, James."

"That's not love, that's marriage," I muttered.

She glared at me. "Something tells me you didn't marry her for far more reasons besides the vows."

Guilt filled my heart. "I couldn't let her become a Potter," I whispered. "Not knowing the target it brings with it."

"And we're back at this," she sighed, shaking her head incredulously. "She would have much preferred the target than the horrific idea that you stopped loving her."

I cringed at the blunt words. "I know," I muttered. "It's why I didn't I didn't tell her."

She shot me a look. "We are just going in circles here, James."

I frowned. "Well, I didn't come here to talk to you."

She sighed. "You're asking for her to hate you."

The words were like a knife to my heart even though I had feared them all along. "I realize that, Keegan," I said softly. "But I can't just let her go without her knowing how I truly feel. Maybe that's naïve or wrong of me, but after all that has happened between us, I can't just let this be the end."

"I thought that that was what you wanted," she said coolly. "For it to be the end."

I frowned slowly. "You know what I really want?" I spoke, my words barely above a whisper. "I want her not to love me so that this wouldn't all have to be so damned difficult."

"I want that, too."

It wasn't Keegan that spoke that time. It was Lily.

Keegan frowned as she slowly opened the door further, revealing Lily standing right behind her. I met Lily's gaze and was struck with such guilt when I saw the frustration flickering in her eyes. "Lily," I said softly.

"We don't have to do this, y'know. You can walk away now and we never have to have the awkward post-coital, post-attack regret-ridden conversation," she snapped.

She sounded so bitter, I just wanted to embrace her and whisper a million times over that I was sorry. Instead I said, "I'm actually not here about that."

I could feel Keegan's stern gaze on me but I actively ignored it as I continued staring solely at Lily.

She blinked her curiosity. "Then what are you doing here?"

"He was just leaving actually," Keegan interrupted, shooting me a look.

Lily glanced at Keegan skeptically. "Keegan, it's fine. Can…can you just give us a minute?"

"Nope."

I almost laughed as Lily scowled at her. "Keegan," she growled.

"What? The last time you two were left alone, you ended up having sex. I'm just trying to protect you two from making that mistake again."

"Keegan!" Lily snapped, shooting her a look.

Keegan made a face, turning to glance at me as she bit hesitantly down on her bottom lip. "Don't do it, Potter," she said softly. "You might hate yourself for…for what you did, but I think you'll find you might hate yourself more by admitting what you did."

"I don't really think that's possible," I said softly.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Lily interjected, her eyes narrowing with scrutiny.

"Nothing," we were both quick to argue. I shot Keegan a pleading look and was grateful when I saw her slowly backing up. I could see the desperation in her eyes warning me to keep my mouth shut and while I tried to ignore it, I was finding that increasingly difficult as she disappeared into her bedroom.

"James," she said, breaking me from my thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, that might make sense. To her, to me, to the world. I came up completely blank. Because none of it made any sense. What I had done and my intentions behind it were pure, but that didn't mean it made any of it easier to process. I wanted to believe that if I just spilled my guts to Lily that that would exonerate me from my terrible error in judgment. I wanted to believe that all it took was the truth to make the agonizing pain of what I had done disappear. But deep down, I knew that I would never be exonerated and the pain would never truly go away. I had hurt her. And while I had done it for the only cause I could see fit at the time, it didn't change the fact that I had hurt her. And what was bearing my soul to her now going to do? It wasn't going to change anything between us. She was still going to leave. In fact, she might leave even sooner if she knew the truth. And she would leave hating me. Hating me for letting her fall in love with me just to snatch it back with a few words. I was the worst person in the entire world. And what was the truth really going to do now? Just like Keegan said, it wasn't going to set me free, that was evident. It wasn't going to do anything at all.

So as I opened my mouth to begin to explain the errors of my ways, to give her the long-awaited truth, to let her know the true damage I have caused, I found that the words wouldn't form. If she needed to leave, I just needed to let that be enough. And maybe Remus and Sirius would think I was being cowardly, but the only noble thing I could really do was to let her go. After all the pain I caused her, that was all that was left for us.

My heart twisted with so much guilt and regret as I stared at the girl I was still so madly in love with. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but instead I just said, "I just wanted to say good-bye to you."

Surprise etched into her expression. "Good-bye?"

I nodded slowly, wondering where those words even came from. "Yes, it's what one typically says to someone before they depart."

She shot me a look. "Thank you for that lesson, Professor Potter," she scoffed sarcastically. "I'm just wondering why you felt it was necessary to even bother saying good-bye to me at all. Seems to me you were pretty keen on not saying good-bye last night when you ran out the door as a way of avoiding me at Blarney's."

"Er…you saw that, did you."

She nodded curtly. "So tell me, Potter, why now? What has given you this sudden desire to show up at my doorstep and say good-bye to me?"

Because I'm never going to be able to say good-bye to us without first saying good-bye to you.

I didn't say that. "Whether you want to hear it or not," I said softly, "I'm going to miss you. And after all of the crap we've been through, I thought you deserved a proper good-bye at the very least."

She frowned. "'Crap?' That's what you're going to call it?"

I didn't respond, my heart sinking at the clear betrayal resting in her eyes. It was becoming more and more impossible trying to act like what I had done was the right move every single time I look at her. It was killing me to see her so hurt. And it killed me even more knowing that I had done that. "I'm sorry I was such a bad boyfriend," I found myself blurting out.

She stepped back, startled by the randomness of my statement. "You weren't," she said softly, her bottom lip trembling. "You don't make the greatest ex-boyfriend, but you were pretty great at being an actual boyfriend. Up until the end at least."

That somehow made my heart break even more, if that was even possible. "Don't…don't say that."

"Don't say what? That you're a crappy ex-boyfriend or that you were the best boyfriend a girl could have asked-"

"Stop," I pleaded, shutting my eyes and shaking my head. I needed to believe she hated me. I needed to believe she regretted it all. I needed to believe she resented me. I needed to let her go.

She let out an irritated grunt and I let myself open my eyes, staring at her with nothing but guilt. "You came to say good-bye," she murmured softly. "And you've done that. If there's nothing you have left to say to me, then I suggest you-"

"Don't leave," I blurted out in a hoarse whisper, my voice filled with pleading desperation. Even after the words fell from my mouth, I wanted to regret them. I wanted to want to take them back. I wanted to want to turn around and let her go to the States without so much as another word. But it wasn't what I actually wanted. I wanted her not to leave.

She was shocked as she took a hesitant step back. "I-I have to, James," she whispered. "I-I have nothing left for me here."

You have me. You'll always have me. I couldn't say that. I couldn't beg her to stay with me just to have Voldemort hunt her again. But I couldn't just let her go and lose her that way either. I didn't want to lose her at all. I wanted to know that I could have her safe and sound in my arms for the rest of our lives. I wanted to know that everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't going to be okay. Or at least I could never know that it was going to be okay. So I held my tongue before I said something else I wouldn't be able to take back later.

"I-I need to do something else with my life," she spoke, refusing to meet my eye. "I need to figure out what it is I want and…and I need to figure out who I am. I…I've been the same person for…for so long and now, I just…" she trailed off, sighing deeply. "It's time for a change, James."

"From me," I finished the sentence.

She blinked, keeping her response close to her tongue as she slowly and hesitantly stared up at me with her remorse-ridden doe eyes. "Yes," she admitted softly. "And from the person I was when I was with you."

Unfortunately I understood that sentiment far too well.

This was really going to be our goodbye, wasn't it. This was it for us. I was going to walk away, letting her slip through my fingers one last time for the off chance that she could be save in another country. I had to walk away. I had to. That was the only answer. For me. For us. I had to walk away.

But as I glanced down at her, realizing just how stunningly beautiful she actually was, with her wavy hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands of red hair clinging to the side of her face, and her green eyes sparkling with intense rawness I had rarely witnessed before, the only thought that was clouding my mind was the fact that I was so deeply in love with the girls standing in front of me that the idea of walking away was nothing but a mere impossibility.

I had had the perfect girl. And I let her go.

I refused to do it again.

---

++LILY++

Tears welled in my eyes as I realized that this really was goodbye. I would be moving across the Atlantic Ocean and there was a good chance I may never see him again. That thought tugged at my every heartstring as I suddenly realized that I wasn't ready to say goodbye to James, no matter how hurt or betrayed I felt by him. Even knowing he had somehow stopped loving me didn't change the fact that a large part of me still clearly loved him. But that was why I had to leave. I had no other choice. I couldn't stay. I couldn't keep playing these games with him. I needed to get away from him. I needed to not be around him so I could let myself heal. I needed me. I didn't need him. At least that's what I needed to believe.

I was about to tell him to please go when his next words stopped me.

"What if I told you I still loved you?" he whispered. "What if I told you I made a mistake letting you go?"

I shut my eyes tightly, frustration slowly growing from within. "I already told you, James," I muttered, shaking my head. I slowly opened my eyes to stare up at him, a cold expression spreading across my face. "Loving me as a last resort isn't love. You can't decide when to love me or not based on when it's convenient for you. Just because I'm…I'm on my deathbed or I'm leaving doesn't mean you get to suddenly find a reason to love me. Love is supposed to be unconditional."

"What if I told you that I've always loved you?" he blurted out, consciously trying to avoid eye contact with me. "That I never stopped?"

My heart was beating a mile a minute. I was more confused than ever. "What the hell are you talking about, James?"

He was silent for a long time and I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes darting back and forth along the wood flooring. He didn't say anything for quite some time but considering I was trying to wrap my head around what he could possibly mean, I wasn't too perturbed by it. I was just perturbed by the fact that he was standing in front of me telling me conflicting things. It was messing with my head and I was so tired of trying to make sense of it all. It clearly didn't make any sense to him so how was it supposed to make sense to me?

"Lily," he finally spoke, the word soft against his tongue.

I glanced up at him, quirking my eyebrow curiously but without saying anything.

"Promise me that…that you won't hate me."

I blinked. "What?"

He avoided eye contact with me as he stared down at the floor and I could see the panic resting in his eyes. I couldn't even begin to fathom what he had been referring to but my heart began to race because whatever it was, I had a feeling I was better off not knowing.

His bottom lip began to tremble as he spoke. "There's something I have to tell you," he whispered, reaching out a hand to run through his hair nervously. "But before I do, I have to know that you won't hate me."

I could feel a chill slide down my back as I wondered what could possibly be making James Potter so vulnerably anxious. "What do you have to tell me?"

He shook his head. "First, promise me."

"James, what is going on?" I urged, ignoring him completely.

His eyes filled with pleading. "Please," he whispered desperately. "Just promise me you won't hate me. Promise me."

As I met his gaze I was struck by how truly worn down he really looked. Just a year ago, he had been a completely different person. Yes, he had had to already deal with unfortunate tragedies but they hadn't yet defined him. He could still smile and it would reach his eyes. He could still laugh with his friends and make inappropriate jokes. He could still go to work because he loved it and not because he needed to use it as an excuse to hide from the rest of the world. He could talk to me as if I was his girlfriend and not something he was avoiding. He could spontaneously take me out for a romantic dinner and spoil me with presents. He could kiss me and mean it. But now the person standing in front of me was an unhappy, unpleasant, troubled, dilapidated mess. He wasn't a human being. He wasn't James. He was just a robot continuing to live his life because had had to. Not because he wanted to.

And yet, whether he was a human being or a robot, he was always going to be the person I had fallen so head-over-heels in love with.

"I could never hate you, James," I said softly, shaking my head. "No matter how hard I've tried."

He flinched slightly at my words as he met my gaze, but he said nothing.

"Now what do you need to tell me?" I urged.

Desperation filled his eyes. "I did it for you," he blurted out in a hoarse whisper. "It's always been about you. You meant the world to me. You still do. Always will. But unfortunately my world had been deteriorating for a while. And I didn't want the same to happen to you. It couldn't happen to you. I didn't want you to end up like me. I didn't want that for anyone."

He looked frantic as he babbled. "What are you talking about, James?"

"Please just know that it was all for you," he whispered.

"What was?" I demanded, slowly getting irritated by the ambiguity.

His bottom lip trembled as he turned away from my scrutiny. "Lily," he said softly, his voice rough with desperation as he let the single word linger on his tongue.

"What?" I snapped at him, probably a bit too harshly.

He didn't seem perturbed by it but that could be because he was clearly distracted with his own cloud of thoughts. He continued to muse hesitantly, his mouth opening a few times but without any words. I was about to snap once again at him to just tell me when he finally opened his mouth and spoke.

Sometimes I wish he never had.

"The night we were attacked in the Ministry, Dumbledore came to see me," he said softly, the expression on his face turning grave. "He told me some things I had long been curious about. Things that shocked and frightened me. Things I wanted to ignore but I couldn't. Things that I was able to ignore for a short period of time. Very short. But it couldn't be ignored forever. No, my father and brother's death proved that. The attack on New Year's Eve proved that. Voldemort proved that."

He was once again babbling and it was confusing me more than ever. "What are you-"

"No, please," he whispered, "just let me get this out before you say anything. Otherwise, I may never be able to."

I frowned, slowly nodding. "Alright."

He took a deep breath in before continuing. "Voldemort's after me," he said bluntly.

I blinked. "He's after all-"

"Lily."

I pursed my lips together tightly, nodding for him to continue.

"I'm not saying that to be dramatic or because I'm paranoid. He's legitimately after me. After all of the Potters. My…my father was the one who took down the Executioner so many years ago and ever since Voldemort found out, we have all been on the top of his hit list. He has wanted us to suffer unconditionally. He's taken us all down one-by-one in various ways. And he's changed his plan numerous times depending on any one of our responses. What he really wants is for all of us to up and join his side. But considering that hasn't been working in his favor, his next option was to kidnap. And then it was murder. But now…now…"

I wanted to urge him to just say it, but I kept my promise to keep my mouth shut.

He let out a defeated sigh. "Now it's his turn to focus on me and he's going a completely different route," he said softly. "He's going after everyone I know and love to isolate me from everyone and everything. He's trying to get me to join his side by getting rid of everyone I care about on mine. And if that doesn't work, he's just trying to turn me into someone who will be forced to live his life completely and utterly alone with all of my friends and family dead by his hands."

I blinked. Those were rather bold words.

"Lily, he's after you," he whispered, finally looking me in the eye.

I felt a chill run down my spine. I guess that explained the four different attacks on separate occasions.

"And after Wyatt and my father died, I knew I couldn't just ignore that fact anymore. I knew he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. And for months all I could think about was what I would do if…if I ever lost you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Another chill ran down my spine as he spoke such disheartening words. Did this finally explain why he felt it necessary to distance himself from me? Was I finally going to get the answers to all of my questions? Was he finally talking to me?

"You deserved better than me, Lily," he spoke, hanging his head shamefully. "You deserved to live your life without constantly having to look over your shoulder. You deserved to feel safe. You deserved to be alive! And…and you couldn't do any of those things with me by your side. You were their number one target. But not because of anything you did. Because of me. Because you were with me. Because you loved me and I loved you. And I couldn't let anything bad happen to you if I could help it. I wouldn't. I-I loved you so much. But it wasn't going to be enough. Me loving you wasn't going to protect you. It was just going to get you killed."

I froze as he spoke those words, a chill permanently engrained in my spine as I recognized the heartbreaking severity behind his words. And suddenly I knew what he was about to say. And I knew I was going to hate him for it. But I let him say it anyway.

"I always loved you, Lily," he whispered. "I still do. And I probably always will. That has never once changed."

I felt my heart stop as I tried desperately to catch my breath, my eyes not able to stray from his.

He took a step towards me. "But I had to make you think otherwise," he continued, his voice strained with guilt. "Because I needed to keep you safe. Alive. And I knew that the only way to do that was to let you go."

There it was. The answer to all of the questions that had been running through my head since our fateful Anniversary. An answer I had been so desperate to get and yet as it stared me in the face, it was as if a thousand knifes were being rammed into my body and I couldn't do anything to stop it, leaving me to believe I was far better off being in the dark. My entire body froze. My heart stopped. Chills covered every inch of my skin. My mind went numb. Everything else went dark. All that was left was a remorseful James Potter standing in front of me, pleading with his eyes for forgiveness.

"Please say something, Lily," he pleaded, his bottom lip trembling.

Say something? I was at a complete loss for words. I could barely think let alone speak. I had to look away from him, trying desperately to catch my breath. I could feel my hands shaking uncontrollably as my eyes grazed upon the wooden floor. I could only imagine how the rest of my body was doing. But my hands and my body were so far from my mind, it was as if I was staring down at myself from above as a completely different person. None of it made any sense and yet it finally made all the sense in the world. I felt my already broken heart shatter into a million tiny-size pieces as my next thought hit me rather hard.

James Potter never stopped loving me. He just made me believe he did.

I looked at up him and realized how much I wanted to wipe that remorse from his face.

I spoke my next words very carefully. "The only thing I have to say to you, James Potter, is go to hell," I whispered viciously, whirling around and attempting to slam the door in his face.

"Lily, please wait!" he called out after me, stopping the door before it could shut all the way.

I whirled around, feeling the vehemence in my very own glare as I strode over to him and instinctively slapped him across the face. There wasn't nearly enough satisfaction in doing it as I watched him recoil in surprise, his hand immediately jumping to his face. I wanted to hurt him more than just a slap on the face. I wanted him to know what it felt like. To feel nothing but unrestricted pain shooting across every inch of your body. I wanted him to feel as if his heart was jumping out of his chest in nothing but agonizing anguish. I wanted him to feel what I felt. "You have nothing worth waiting for," I snarled, my every word bouncing off the walls in sheer anger.

His eyes filled with guilt. "I never meant to-"

"Don't you even try and finish that sentence, James Potter," I snapped. "Because I swear to Merlin if you were about to tell me you never meant to hurt me, there's a very strong chance I could strangle you with my bare hands and it would be totally worth the trip to Azkaban!"

His bottom lip trembled. "I-I don't know what else to say," he whispered.

"Apparently you've said it all!" I barked. "Who the hell do you think you are? You…you are such a bastard, James. A self-righteous, naïve, hurtful bastard. How could you do that to me?"

"Lily, please-"

"Please nothing!" I shouted. I was pretty sure my voice could be heard in India but I couldn't recall a time I had ever been that angry. Everything inside of me was screaming with relentless rage. "You looked me in the eye and you told me you didn't love me anymore! Do you have any bloody idea what that feels like, James Potter? Do you know what it's like to wonder day in and day out for months what the hell it was that you did to cause the love of your life to fall out of love with you? Do you know what it feels like to literally go over every minute of every day leading up to that fateful day to try and figure out where it all went wrong? Do you know what that does to a person!? Do you have any clue what it's like to feel as if you'll never be whole again because your entre heart was just ripped from your body? Can you even imagine what it's like losing your best friend and your boyfriend in just a single heartbreaking second? And then to find out it was all a lie? How the hell could you do that to me, James Potter?"

He took a cautious step back, his eyes widening with guilt. "I'm sor-"

"The next word out of your mouth better not be sorry or I swear the Ministry won't be able to stop me from what I'll do to you!"

He shut his mouth tightly, not saying another word.

"How can you have the audacity to stand here today and tell me you actually love me after doing what you did to me? How could you possibly think that that was okay?" I spat out, the words dripping from my mouth like an open flame to gasoline. "And how could you even think about telling me you love me when you gave me reason to believe for almost three months that the man I had spent four years loving unconditionally didn't love me back!?"

"Please, Lily-"

"And do you know why I believed it? Do you know why I actually thought that you stopped loving me? Why I had been so convinced that I did something to make you fall out of love with me?"

He looked torn as to whether he was supposed to answer.

My bottom lip trembled, the tears pooling in my eyes before I could even attempt to stop them, as the next words got caught in the lump in my throat. I had to take a deep breath and exhale slowly in an attempt to catch my breath before speaking my next words carefully. "Because I never would have believed that you, my best friend, my boyfriend, and the love of my life, could look me in the eye and say quite possibly the most painful words I have ever heard unless they were absolutely true." A tear slid down my cheek but I didn't bother swiping it away.

He hung his head shamefully. "Lily-"

"I never would have thought that you could ever be that cruel and vindictive," I whispered hoarsely, each word a pang to my heart. I dared to look up at him, my eyes glazing over with cold regret. "Evidently I was wrong."

He said nothing, his eyes twinging with the apology I had refused to let him say.

"You were my family, James," I whispered. "You were all I had left. And you knew that. You knew that. And that didn't stop you from casting me aside. That didn't stop you from letting me go in the most heartless way possible. That didn't stop you from turning your back on me. Do you have any idea what it feels like to realize that you are completely alone in the world?"

"Yes," he croaked out, his eyes filling with anguish. "Because that's all I've felt since the day Dumbledore told me Voldemort was after the people I care about."

"Because you put yourself there!" I cried out with a strained voice full of whiny desperation. "You distanced yourself. You shut yourself off from me. From everyone. You forced yourself to be alone. You did that! But I never asked to be alone. I never wanted to be alone! I never wanted anything except you! I never needed anything but you. In this dangerous, fucked-up war-filled world we live in where everyone is constantly looking over their shoulders, I always felt safe with you by my side. Always. And I can't stand that I never made you feel the same way." I had to blink back the tears that were glistening in my eyelids because I knew once I started crying, I would never be able to stop.

"I wish there was a way I could have guaranteed your safety, Lily," he whispered. "But there wasn't. Just because you felt safe didn't mean that you were. I couldn't be with you all the time. And when I wasn't with you, I was so frightened I would return home to find the Dark Mark hovering over the Manor. Why do you think I put in so many late hours at the office? Because every moment I stood up to leave to get home to you, I was too afraid of what I may find."

The despair in my expression turned cold. "I am finding very little reason not to strangle you right now, James," I snapped, my voice filled with bitter rage. "Do you know what it's like dating an Auror and a member of the Order?"

"Er…I know the latter."

I glared at him. "Every single bloody day of my life was spent worrying about you. Every single goddamned minute I wasn't with you, I was wondering what you were doing and who you were with and if you were safe and alive. It wasn't just about worry or concern or paranoia. It plagued my every thought. I could only ever breathe a sigh of relief when I saw you in front of me."

"I know the feeling," he whispered.

My fists clenched, shutting my eyes tightly as I attempted to calm the rage spilling into my every vein. "You don't know a damned thing," I argued pleadingly. "I never knew where you were or what time you were coming home or even if you were coming home. I never knew where your work was going to send you and when it was going to happen. You were sent on missions at a drop of a hat and would disappear for days. You would be on a stakeout and wouldn't get home until well after midnight. You wouldn't show up to Friday Night Dinners or Sunday mornings at Corner Joe's when you were supposed to. I'm not an idiot. I know being a member of the Order isn't easy when you're dating another Order member, but throw your Auror lifestyle on top of that, and you've got the worst combination in the history of careers!"

I watched him sigh and I so wanted to throw something at him. He didn't get it. He really didn't. If he did, he wouldn't be acting so casually unremorseful about the whole situation. I could feel my nails digging into the palm of my hands, my knuckles turning white as I continued, "Do you have any clue what I thought every single time you didn't show up when I expected you to? When I just sat in my room alone and scared waiting and waiting for some sort of answer, too afraid to even open the door every time there was a knock with the irrational fear that some Ministry Official or even one of my friends would be standing there to tell me that my worst fear had come true and you had gotten yourself killed. There were times I would visit you at work and when you wouldn't immediately be sitting at your desk, I would assume you had been shipped off on one of Moody's wild goose chases where you were blindsided and taken down by a mass of Death Eaters. I busied myself every single minute of every single day you were gone for your recruit training missions afraid that what happened to Brite was going to happen to you. I never once stopped worrying about you! Not once! There were so many restless nights where I wouldn't get a single minute of sleep, too busy thinking about where you were and if you were protected. I would wake up in the mornings and immediately have to remember where you were and who you were with so as not to let my mind wander into the what-ifs."

I could feel my heart filling with so much aching panic at the mere reminder of how I spent the last few years. I never told anyone this. Not even James. I had suppressed the fears every single moment I met up with James and saw him standing in front of me, safe and alive. I pretended it was all in my head and that the next time I would worry about James, I would be able to control it better. But I never did. It only got worse as the months, years even, passed. It was painful. But…

I had loved him. And I would take worrying about him if it meant I still got to love him.

As I looked up into James' eyes, I saw regretful shock staring at me. "You…you never said anything to me," he whispered hoarsely, the words catching in his throat.

I shook my head, trying to swallow the lump forming in the back of my throat. "You never said anything to me either," I snapped coolly.

He frowned. "Lily-"

"I loved you, James," I interrupted before he could say another word. "I never once considered breaking up with you because of what was going through my mind. Because I loved you. And part of loving someone is worrying about them. It's inherent. So I dealt with it. Because in the end, you were all that mattered to me. You were my everything. You showed me what it meant to be in love and to be loved. You taught me that I didn't have to let my tragic past define me. And then what do you do? You let your own bloody tragedies define you."

He looked like he wanted to argue or comment or respond so I was surprised when all he said was, "What?"

I let out an exasperated sigh, trying to catch my breath, before saying, "I know you haven't been handed the easiest of lives to deal with especially over these past few years. You've lost a lot of good people and it's killed me to watch you have to endure that. But damnit, James, you're still alive. You are still here! You have the will to fight. But you stopped fighting the moment you let your fear take over. You gave up and you gave in. You are supposed to be carrying on your family's legacy after what they've been through. You're supposed to be honoring their memory. You're supposed to be making them proud of you for carrying on. And how do you do that? You get so bloody caught up in this fucking war that you push away every single person in your life that you love and care about. And for what? Because Voldemort is coming after you? Newsflash, James: he's coming after all of us!"

A frown slowly protruded across his face. "There shouldn't be a legacy to carry on or memories to honor," he spoke coolly. "They should still be alive. They should still be fighting in this war."

"James-"

He cut me off. "Three of my brothers and my father are dead, Lily. Because of one man's doing. I wasn't about to let anyone else die if I could do something about it. I needed a way to stop an unstoppable villain from murdering anyone else. So I did what I thought I had to do. I'm sorry that you were caught in the middle of it all, but I-"

"Caught in the middle?" I snapped. "No, James, I wasn't caught in the middle because you never even gave me that chance! You cast me aside before ever letting me get caught up in anything."

"Because if I had told you what was really going on, you never would have let me let you go!"

"YOU'RE DAMNED RIGHT I WOULDN'T HAVE!" I shouted, my voice reverberating off every wall imaginable. "BECAUSE I LOVED YOU AND THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO WHEN THEY ARE IN LOVE! THEY STICK BY EACH OTHER THROUGH THE GOOD TIMES AND THE BAD!"

He winced, taking a hesitant step back from me in fear of me striking him with a hex. Which I was seriously considering. "So I was just supposed to…to what? Stand by and wait for you to get attacked? Watch you die? Watch you be Voldemort's number one target?"

"You were supposed to talk to me," I snarled. "It's what a boyfriend does with the girl he loves."

As he chose to remain mute, I could see the defeat evident in his hazel eyes. But what I didn't see was any form of guilt or remorse.

I felt my fists clench as I turned to look at him. "I know I promised that I wouldn't hate you, but I'm having a really tough time with that right now," I whispered, my bottom lip trembling.

His face fell as his head swiveled to stare at me with sheer agony. He didn't respond immediately, just staring at me with those painful eyes peering back at me behind his spectacles. "I knew you would," he said softly. "I was just really hoping to avoid it."

My entire body shook with an overflow of emotions – anger, sorrow, betrayal, pain, confusion, heartbreak. I had never felt so viscerally conflicted before, everything inside of my screaming to hate the man standing in front of me. I could barely breathe as the numbness in my heart spread to every inch of my body. Everything I had ever once known was nothing but lies and deceit. My world was turned upside down and I didn't know which way was up. "You told me you didn't love me and it was all a lie," I whispered, the words barely audible as the tears once again sprang to my eyes. "Our entire relationship was wrapped up in a lie, James. How could I not hate you even a little bit?"

His bottom lip trembled in despair as he stared down at me. I saw the heartbreak evident in his eyes. I was clearly full of anger and pain, but so was he. He was angry at the world and he took it out on me, albeit unintentionally. But it didn't matter that it was unintentional, he still did it. And I wanted to hate him for it. But as I looked up at him into his eyes full of apologetic angst, I was very much aware that no matter how much I wanted to hate him, no matter how much I told him I should and I could, no matter how much anger and grief that was overwhelming my heart, I could never actually truly hate him. And that made me want to hate him even more.

"But even more than me hating you, I hate myself," I found myself whispering, realizing where all of this hatred was really spewing from. "Because even under the impression that you didn't love me, I never stopped loving you. Not once."

There. There it was. My truth. He had basically ripped my heart to shreds and yet there was still so much of it that belonged to him.

But not anymore.

"Do you want to know what it feels like to have the person you are in love with tell you they don't love you anymore?" I spoke, my heart literally breaking with every word I spoke. "Well here goes: I loved you even when I shouldn't have. I loved you while I was dating another guy. I loved you when you were putting distance between us. And I loved you even when I thought you didn't love me. But I don't love you anymore, James. Because there is no way in hell I could ever love someone who has the audacity to lie to me about falling out of love with me."

His face fell. And a part of me wanted to enjoy hurting him with those words but the truth was, I didn't enjoy it. It just made me realize how far we've come.

"Lily," he whispered, taking a step towards me, "I know I don't deserve your love but the truth of the matter is, I do love you. Always have. Always will. And I did what I felt I had to do to keep you safe. Maybe it wasn't the right answer, but it was my only answer at the time. All of those feelings you had when you didn't know where I was or when I was coming home, I had those same feelings. So I know you understand what it's like to feel overwhelmed with fear and panic. So overwhelmed that it's hard to breathe. Hard to live. Because the fact of the matter is, Lily, I could never live in a world where you didn't exist."

I knew what it felt like, yes, but I never once considered breaking up with him because of it! Bloody hell, he wasn't even listening to me. I wanted to smack him. I wanted to hex him. I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me. He wasn't even remorseful. He wasn't even sorry that he did it. He was going to have his excuses and his fake logic to make him feel better about his decision and I wouldn't be able to change his mind.

As I glared up at him, I saw him shrug and offer me a slightly apologetic half-smile as if hadn't just torn my heart to pieces.

Fucking bastard. Maybe I did hate him.

"So you can hate me, Lily," he whispered, as if he was actually reading my mind. "I expect you to hate me. I've never once said that what I did was okay. I know I hurt you. And you can be angry and upset at me because of it. You can feel betrayed. You can want to hex me. Hell, you can actually hex me if you think it's going to make you feel better. You can yell and scream at me, you can slap me and glare at me, you can want to never see me again. You can say you don't love me anymore and I can't be surprised or hurt by that. But I just need you to know that there is absolutely nothing you can say or do that will make me not still be completely in love with you. And that and that alone will always make me want to protect you in every way possible."

And that's what killed me the most. He could say the most hurtful words a girl could ever hear and yet, he was getting off scot-free. He could tell me he didn't love me anymore and destroy everything inside of me yet when I told him I no longer loved him, it meant nothing. In one ear, out the other. My heart was quite literally shredding to bits and I was finding it near impossible to breath, yet he stood there without an ounce of remorse for what he did as if what he did was justifiable just because he had some half-baked excuse for it. He not only broke my heart into a million pieces once but he was standing here doing it all over again, something I never thought possible, and yet he still stood behind the decision as if he didn't care for even a second how that decision truly affected me.

I have felt pain before but this was unbearable. My heart felt as if someone was stabbing it with a thousand knives. I couldn't breathe. My entire body was growing limp with nothing but pain. I felt myself begin to shake as I succumbed to some sort of panic attack. My stomach felt rigid as the pieces of my shattered heart spilled into it. My face grew hot with anxious regret. And all I wanted was for him to know what this felt like. I wanted him to feel uncontrollable pain and agony the way I did in that moment. I wanted him to know what it was like to be betrayed by the person you loved more than anyone. I wanted him to know what it felt like to have your heart ripped to shreds and stomped on as if it meant nothing. I wanted to hurt him the way he had hurt me. And so the next words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could even stop them.

"I slept with Sirius."

---

A/N: Um... cliffhanger?

Enough. Said.