What was love, and what did it mean to love someone?

James asked himself this question for the first time in his life.

As a person born out of love and had so much love to give, James thought he knew more than anybody else what that four-letter word meant. It turned out, that the more he thought he knew, the more he knew nothing.

He used to think that love was easy—for him, at least. It was easy to receive and it was easy to give. He was spoiled with love, almost to the point that he grew used to it. Whether it was from his parents or from his friends, he felt an abundance of love from every direction, he thought he wouldn't run out of it. But then he met Lily, and for the first time in his life, the "love" he expected to receive didn't come.

With Lily, love did not come easy. In fact, some—scratch that, most—might say that love did not exist at all. While everyone else showered him with endless affection and praises, all she threw at his face were fierce scorn and insults. While everyone else treated him with indulgence, she treated him with contempt. While others would've caved and surrendered to his smile, she would rather poison herself than be subjected by his presence.

Everything he did right with people was wrong with her.

And as someone who had never fought for love before, James had been enthralled.

Maybe it was the challenge that drew him in.

Everything came so easy for him—making friends, getting good grades, Quidditch—that it felt like a breath of fresh air when Lily suddenly stumbled into his life and presented a challenge nearly impossible to overcome.

He fell in love just like that.

But it was a love that poisoned him from within.

It was a love that burned, but not the passionate kind like his parents had. His parents had a love so fiery, it had raged a fiendfyre blaze all over the Wizarding World. For him and Lily, their love—or rather, his love for her and her hatred for him—burned them so badly, the wounds never healed and the scars never recovered.

Lily made him irrational at times.

In his quest to make her fall in love with him, he had disregarded even his own self-respect for a chance to see her smile. He lowered his head—like some kind of mutt—and let her stomp all over his pride and dignity, because he wanted her to acknowledge him. He put away his pride as a pureblood, as a Gryffindor, as a person, and made himself small in front of her, just for a single possibility that she might start to like him back.

And in the process, not only had he hurt himself, but he had also hurt others.

He liked to believe that he wasn't the type of person who would maliciously taunt and bully another, but he knew he'd only hurt himself more if he continued burying into denial. He knew what he'd become just by looking at himself in the mirror and he didn't like what he'd seen.

He didn't like who he'd become—who he was.

After being loved by others for so long, it seemed to be an inevitable conclusion that he could no longer find one thing remotely likable about himself.

"You've been quiet for a while now, Prongsie." Sirius' voice snapped James out of his daze. "What's gotten into you?"

James looked at his best friend and for the first time, he genuinely wondered what Sirius saw in him. They had struck an easy camaraderie from the first moment they met, them being in the same house only made it stronger, but James couldn't help but be submerged in doubts. What made Sirius his friend? What made him stay by his side for six years straight?

"Just… thinking," James struggled to answer, looking down at his untouched plate.

The noise from the Great Hall might as well be a muffled buzz in his ears as his thoughts drowned out most of them.

"Seems like you've done an awful lot of thinking this past few days," Sirius commented. "You know, if you have problems, you can talk to us, right?"

A faint smile spread across James' lips. "Of course, mate."

Of course, he knew they had his back. They had been friends for so long, through thick and thin, and they knew so much of each other already. James considered Sirius his brother in all but blood, and Sirius considered the same. But why, was the real question.

James saw a flash of brown from the corner of his eyes and unbidden, the image of Granger's hair tore through his mind.

He snapped his head towards its direction, anticipating the tangled mess she called her hair, only it wasn't her but someone else. His shoulders began to sink, his heart dropping to his stomach, a dizzying sensation of disappointment making him feel lightheaded.

Ever since that night, James didn't dare to wander around carelessly again. He never approached Granger during the day, and he never tried to seek her at night. He kept his distance, remembering those solemn brown eyes, the dismay etched across her face the last time they spoke, and he stayed away, lost within the confounding thoughts clouding his head.

But just because he stayed away, didn't mean he hadn't missed her.

And wasn't that crazy? For him to miss her? Except, he really truly did. It was only recently that he started talking to Granger, but during the short time they spent together, James felt himself change in ways he hadn't anticipated.

Talking to her had made him see the parts of himself he hadn't realized existed. She had opened doors for him that he didn't know were there in the first place, and she offered the key to the cage he locked himself in. She had made him brave enough to face his fears, realize his insecurities, and acknowledge his mistakes. Talking to her was freeing in a way, although the conversations they had weren't always pleasant.

He valued the advice and the insights she shared with him. He valued her honesty, no matter how merciless and sharp it was. He valued her patience when dealing with him and his moods, when she could've perfectly avoided them and he wouldn't judge. He valued her direct approach, her no-nonsense attitude, when people around him beat around the bush.

What they had—he couldn't exactly call it friendship. They weren't friends. James doubted Granger had one of those, and he wasn't so shameless as to call her a friend when she would likely hex him in disagreement. He couldn't imagine joking or laughing or pranking with her the same way he did with the Marauders.

But he also couldn't imagine going back to a time when he used to ignore her out of fear, and she used to ignore him because she hadn't cared enough.

And Granger cared—he knew more than most. She cared enough to lead him back to the Gryffindor tower without reporting him to McGonagall. She cared enough about being a Prefect that she immediately stopped and actively prevented rule breakers. She cared enough that she always made time for the younger years even when she was busy with her other responsibilities.

Sure, she might hate them—well, disliked them, more like, since hate was a strong word—and she might be indifferent to most people, but that had never stopped her from caring in her own way.

Granger had opened a new world to him, and James felt like he had taken it for granted—this new world—when he had thrown it back to her face. So, even though he missed her and wanted to speak to her again, he stayed away.

"Oh, by the way," Sirius' voice slid through his troubling thoughts and caught his attention. James looked up to find gray eyes staring at him, "remember how you said you're moving on from Evans?"

James blinked his eyes and nervously gulped on dry throat, unconsciously ruffling his hair. "Uh, yeah?"

"Well, I know someone who likes you," Sirius continued. "Figured you'd want to go out sometime in a date with a pretty girl this weekend, you know, to stop thinking about Evans. I mean, it's been ages, mate, you got to start somewhere."

James felt the tips of his ears heating, his lips curled into a crooked grin aimed at his friend, yet his eyes strayed around the Great Hall—stopping on the familiar sight of red, gleaming hair. They looked like fire, and James always longed to burn in them.

He burned, alright, and he never recovered.

Sirius was right. He had to start somewhere. He had to stop thinking about Lily once and for all, or else he would venture into a path he wouldn't want for himself or for his worst enemies. Loving Lily and being hated for it just didn't seem worth it—not anymore. The years he spent chasing after her and loving her from afar would only be a part of his history, not the entirety of it.

But, to be honest, James didn't think that turning his attention or affections from Lily to someone else was the right answer.

He just couldn't find it within himself to love someone new, when he could hardly love himself nowadays.

So, he shook his head at Sirius, who sighed and didn't argue, as if he expected that answer from him. James felt bad for turning down his friend, but for the first time in a while, he felt something light settle in his chest and knew he made the right choice.

Besides, he needed a way to stop thinking about Granger as well.

After curfew hours—where everything and everyone in the castle was silent and asleep, except for the ghosts and poltergeist—James found himself wandering around as per usual. He didn't worry about professors or prefects finding him; it was already late at night, most of them had already gone to bed.

James felt like a ghost, or a wraith, as he wandered aimlessly, his feet taking him to where he needed to go than to whatever destination his mind could think of. He yawned as he turned around the corner, blinking bleary eyes in the dimly lit corridor. Exhaustion weighed his tired lids, and just as he contemplated going back to the Gryffindor dormitory—without having Granger find out about him—he heard giggling in the corner.

He looked around and found no one in the same corridor as him, although he supposed that they were hiding in a nook somewhere. He thought he was the only person around, so he whipped out the Marauders Map, curious to see who could it be.

He hadn't expected to see Lily's name.

He especially didn't expect to see the other name next to hers, his blood ran cold as he realized the way the two names seemed to overlap each other. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, the map trembling in his grasp.

"Shh, you're going to get us caught."

James heard Lily's voice, with a series of footsteps going increasingly loud towards his direction. He looked up, his throat closing up, when he saw Lily giggling as she stumbled out of the hidden nook beside a crude statue. She pulled the other person out, giving her a sweet smile that he hadn't seen before.

A smile that she had never given to him.

And she gave them all to Marlene McKinnon, as she draped herself all over Lily's chest, giggling and smiling—and looking so damn happy, with her lips swollen—gazing at Lily the same way James would.

He just never expected for Lily to return the same gaze—all to Marlene.

James froze in his place, unable to look away from this nightmare unfolding before him.

"That was fun, we should do that again," Marlene said breathlessly, as both girls began walking closer towards his direction, hands holding each other with their fingers entwined.

"We almost got caught by Filch," said Lily, but her voice was light and unbothered, her gaze darting periodically over to Marlene as if she couldn't look away for longer than a minute. "But it had been fun, I'm not going to lie."

"We usually just stay in our dorms, so it's a nice change of pace." Marlene swung their hands together, looking at Lily with starry blue eyes. "Oh, we should go to the Astronomy Tower next! That'd be fun too."

Lily casted a quizzical glance at her companion. "You're already planning out next spot? Why are you so eager to hook up at the most popular hook up spots in Hogwarts?"

"Well, we never get the chance to do anything outside of our room. Sometimes, I want to do normal, couple stuff with you, the same stuff those other couples do all the time. Just because we're both girls, doesn't mean that we can't do them as well, right? Please, Lils? I promise to save a treacle tart for you next time, please?"

And James felt himself falling under as Lily paused and gave Marlene a kiss on her lips.

"Alright," Lily said as she pulled back. "Just because you look cute. Now, let's go back before Hermione finds out we're not in bed."

"Knowing her," Marlene snorted, "she definitely knows we're not in bed right now."

"That's why we have to hurry. Come on." Lily tugged Marlene as she walked faster.

They passed him by, the distance between them so close, he could almost feel Lily's robes over his own despite the barrier from the Invisibility Cloak. Their footsteps grew faint, until he could no longer hear it completely, and he felt his own legs give way under him.

He fell on the floor, hands cradling his head, unable to comprehend what he'd just found out.

Lily was in love.

She was in love with someone.

Someone that wasn't him.

And most of all, that someone was a woman.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to fucking die.

"I never wanted you to find out this way."

He flinched when he'd heard her voice. He felt the silky garment of the Invisibility Cloak moving, his heart skipping a beat when warmth suddenly invaded the space on his side.

He slowly turned his head, and found himself staring into Hermione Granger's solemn gaze. She had just crawled under the Invisibility Cloak and tucked herself on his side, legs bent with her knees pulled to her chest.

She had never been so close to him before, not to the point of touching. Heck, he didn't think she ever got personally close to people, not when she never allowed it to. He didn't know what compelled her to sit next to him.

However, this time, as he felt his whole world crumbling apart and tearing at the seams, the warmth she provided as they hid away under his Invisibility Cloak, was the only source of comfort he could find.

For someone so cold and detached, she was so warm by his side.

"You… knew?" James choked out, his entire body numb, his spine trembling. When he blinked his eyes, stray tears spilled from the corners—this time, he couldn't even blame exhaustion.

Granger nodded her head, her gaze steady.

"Does everyone?" he croaked out, wanting to laugh hysterically until his stomach hurt—just so he could stop hurting in his chest.

"No," Granger replied with a shake of her head. "Only a few people know. Not everyone is open to same-sex relationships these days. For the most part, most consider them close friends, if not best friends."

And James had been one of them.

"How… how long?" he asked, scrubbing his eyes with his hands.

"Their relationship hasn't been long, but the feelings were always there since third year," she replied.

So, it had been long—God, James wanted to ram his head against the wall.

"And—and how long have you… known?"

She paused for a moment, then chose to be honest with him.

"I've always known, long before they got together."

A sharp pain sliced through his chest. No wonder Granger had told him to let go of Lily. Yes, she gave him the options to either move on or start anew with Lily, but knowing how brilliant she was, she would've guessed that he would choose to move on instead. She must have. Or else, why would she try to save him from this heartbreak?

"I'm an idiot," he muttered, his voice breaking at the end. "God. I'm such a fucking idiot."

Granger didn't say anything to refute that statement and James couldn't even muster an ounce of care, knowing that she was silently agreeing.

"Has she always liked girls?" he asked quietly, looking at Granger through his fringe.

"She likes both boys and girls," she answered. "She just happens to be in love with a woman, that's all."

James grew quiet at her answer, sniffling pathetically, trying to wipe away the tears catching on his cheeks. He wasn't a fucking child; he was nearly seventeen. He was almost an adult in the Wizarding World, but he couldn't stop crying, and he didn't know what to do.

Through it all, Granger remained quiet by his side while he cried to himself.

"Do you think I'm pathetic?" James asked through hiccups, his voice slightly hitched.

"Love is never pathetic," she said, voice quiet. "And you loved her fiercely. But, I told you before, didn't I, James Potter?" She raised an arm and reached for his face, where she proceeded to brush the fringe falling over the side of his forehead, making him flinch, his swollen eyes widening. "You have so much love to give, so you should give some love to yourself."

She dropped her arm and he stared into her eyes for a moment. He didn't know what compelled him to say the next words, aside from the fact that he needed it so goddamn much—and he needed to say it before cowardice and self-preservation took over.

"Can I… I know I'm overstepping but," he sniffled, "can I have a hug?"

And Granger never needed to say anything more, because when she opened her arms and lowered her legs until they laid flat on the floor, James understood that this was an invitation—a rare gift that she would only give to only a few.

James didn't waste a second hesitating or questioning. He just dove straight into her arms, burrowing his head onto her shoulder, his upper body leaning heavily against her front. But she never offered a protest, weaving her arms around him, one hand on his back and another on the back of his head.

Then he cried, sobbing heart-wrenchingly into her shoulder.

He cried for the love he nurtured and harbored for six years, only for it to crumble unreturned and unwanted.

He cried for the love he thought he would get to have if he tried hard enough.

He cried at his unfulfilled dreams of a great love with his first love.

He cried at the promises and plans he made for the two of them, only for those promises to lay broken at his feet.

And she was quiet throughout.

She was quiet as he cried and sobbed into her shoulder.

She was quiet as he clung onto her in his desperation for comfort.

She was quiet as his entire body trembled and clutched her closer.

She was quiet as he draped himself limply on her chest, staring into the wall opposite them, as silent tears dripped down the side of his face.

She didn't scream and rage at his suffering and pain, not like Sirius would. She didn't offer him words of support and sympathy, not like Remus would. She didn't panic at his tears and ask about his feelings constantly, not like Peter would.

She merely held him in her arms.

And somehow, James wouldn't have it in any other way.

Her silence was the only thing he needed.