James found something to occupy him at night other than his delusional thoughts about Lily.

It was Granger.

Granger with her dead-eyed stare and her unapologetically blunt demeanor and her quiet but deadly presence. Granger with her "you're lovable"sentences and her "get it over with" commands. Granger who could probably kill him using her pinky and who was always quiet except when she was approached and provoked into saying the most damning things.

Granger was a lot of things—quiet, abrasive, harsh, vengeful, responsible—but she was also the biggest enigma that James had ever encountered in his life. He didn't fancy himself as a curious sort of person, but he couldn't help but be intrigued by the witch everyone else was afraid of.

It was weird because this was Granger. For all intents and purposes, James should be staying away from her, especially knowing what she was capable of. He should be angry at her for hurting Sirius and leaving the scars on the back of his hand. He should be wary due to the rumors surrounding her, all of them worse than the last. He should be more cautious because there were some truth to those rumors, a few times he had witnessed them himself.

But Granger was more than what other people said about her. She was more than the rumors that followed after her heels. She was more than the vicious spark of her wand and her deadly stare and her quietness. James had only spoken to her twice, but she had shown him that she was simply… more.

And he wanted to see what else she'd unravel before him.

There was something exciting at the thought of knowing something that others didn't, especially when it pertained to a living legend. Not that Granger was a legend by any means, not like Dumbledore at least, but she was exceptional in ways that made her into an infamous figure in their year. Everyone saw what was on the surface, but none had been brave enough to venture deep below. But James figured that rather than bravery, it was idiocy and curiosity driving him forward towards Granger's route.

It wasn't like she was talking to him in the middle of the day. It wasn't like she was advertising the fact that they knew each other after the first night, and James wasn't really going to be the one spreading the news that Granger approached him and hadn't murdered him yet. It wasn't like they were friends. Two conversations didn't make a friendship; even an acquaintanceship was a bit too familiar. James didn't think that Granger wanted to have friends, considering that she stayed away well enough for six years.

It was just Granger being a nice distraction from Lily. Whenever he thought about her, Lily tended to disappear and become background noise while thoughts of Granger blared in all directions. Granger didn't hurt him the way Lily did. He never felt the visceral pain in his chest whenever he thought of Granger as opposed to thoughts of Lily. She was safe and comfortable while Lily was tumultuous and torrid.

Thus, James found himself in the Grand Hall, on his usual spot in the Gryffindor table with his chin on his palm, elbow propped on the table, watching Granger further down from him.

As per usual, she sat alone in the Gryffindor table, not talking to anyone despite being surrounded by their housemates. People were talking to one another, but she seemed as if she existed outside of their bubble and no matter how close they sat, they couldn't penetrate her barriers. She existed in a world they could never dream of becoming a part of.

With every delicate stroke of spread on her toast and a dainty nibble on her breakfast, curls spiraling around her small frame like unruly roots, Granger was far too meticulous and elegant that morning. She chewed slowly, fingers dabbing on the corners of her mouth to wipe away the bread crumbs stuck on her skin, every time she took a bite. Three books hovered in front of her, obscuring most of her face from everyone else. She read them all as she ate, the withered pages flipping periodically on its own with magic.

It was a familiar sight since their first year, because since when was Granger not ever reading? James suspected that she learned how to read before she could learn how to walk. It wouldn't have made sense otherwise. Wherever Granger went, at least a dozen books hovered mid-air and trailed behind her figure like a bride's trail or eager puppies following after their master. It had fascinated them as eleven-years-olds; it was still the same now at sixteen.

As if sensing his stare, Granger paused, one of the books lowering to reveal a pair of inscrutable golden brown eyes, instantly locking into his. He felt a sudden jolt at his spine when he got caught redhanded, heat spreading across his cheeks. He wouldn't be surprised if he looked like a cherry at the moment with his embarrassed blush.

James didn't know why he did it, but he found himself straightening his back and waving a hand at her, rather than looking away and avoiding her eyes after getting caught. Just a short wave of greeting that wasn't as discreet as he should've probably made it to be. But Granger didn't seem to pay his attentions any mind, merely raising one brow before her eyes disappeared behind the book that had risen itself upwards again.

His chest warmed, his stomach clenching, and where there should've been disappointment—for not even waving back or a little silently mouthed "good morning"—there was giddy anticipation instead filling him up.

Because she didn't ignore him like she did with the rest of them. That one eyebrow raise was enough for James to understand that she was acknowledging him, that she saw him, that he wasn't entirely delusional. It was an acknowledgment and for Granger to do so meant that she was paying attention to him. He couldn't help but see that as a sign that she was letting him into the bubble that separated her from everyone else.

And wasn't that a dangerous thought? More dangerous than thinking of Granger at least.

He felt warmth spreading from the center of his chest to the tips of his fingers. It warmed him from inside out, before passed slowly, but surely. He hardly felt that warmth before, not when he had done a successful prank, and not even when Lily was concerned. It felt familiar but at the same time, it felt strange, as if he was seeing a lost friend after a long time spending apart from them. He missed it once the warm feeling left him.

He wondered what he could do to grasp that warm feeling again.

Then he saw a flash of red, and his attention was immediately drawn towards that familiar shade of red, enraptured as Lily walked towards her spot in the Gryffindor table with Marlene McKinnon. When she looked away and noticed him watching, her expression twisted into a brief flash of a scowl, before indifference replaced it.

James ignored the churn in his stomach, his heart sinking, when she turned on her heel and stormed away, as if she didn't want to spend time in his presence, as if seeing him had sickened her to the point of losing her appetite, as if his existence was the very thing she detested, and he couldn't deny that her actions hurt him. It wiped away the traces of the good feeling that he felt when Granger acknowledged him earlier.

Granger's words had never rang clearer until that moment.

She was right. It was either he let Lily go or continue wallowing in his own misery. While he still felt so madly in love with her to the point that it hurt, he couldn't deny that staying in love with her wasn't the healthiest. Throughout the years, the good feelings she evoked in him dwindled until all was left was a hallow, gaping wound in his chest, growing bigger and bigger to the point that it nearly swallowed him whole.

He had done it to himself as he continuously forced Lily to accept his affections despite knowing that she didn't want them. There was no one to blame other than him.

For his good and for Lily's as well, James couldn't dwell on a love that left them both adrift. Because Lily was never going to be his, and Lily would never agree to becoming his, and he had to stop his delusions before he could destroy them both with it.

He looked at Granger again, but she never lowered her books to give him any mind.

No one noticed his sudden fixation on Granger, but they did notice him avoiding Lily Evans. It took a few weeks, a few tries, but James had successfully ignored her at least 3 out of 10 times. He considered it a success, and they considered it an oddity. After all, when did he ever ignore Lily when he was in the same room as she was?

"What happened between you and Evans?" Sirius asked one time while they were getting ready in their dorm room. One of his perfectly plucked eyebrows were raised, his glittering gray eyes transfixed on his face.

"What do you mean?" James avoided his friend's gaze as he shuffled around the room, trying to find his left shoe.

"Come on, Prongs," Sirius huffed with a roll of his eyes, slumping lackadaisically against the poster of his bed, and crossing his arms over his chest, the hint of silver scars peeking through the sleeves of his robes, "don't pretend that we don't notice you acting strangely. You ignored Lily yesterday at dinner, which is something you never do. Did something happen? Did she do something to you?"

"She never did anything to me," James was quick to defend, clenching his jaw as he shifted his gaze away. He didn't like the implication that Sirius had, that Lily was to blame for his strange behavior. She hadn't done anything wrong; it was James who was always stepping out of the line. "There's nothing wrong, Padfoot. She's not at fault. If anything, I'm the one to blame after all this mess."

Sirius straightened his spine, his eyes going sharp. "What mess? What mess are you talking about? Why is it your fault?"

James pursed his lips. "Come on, Pads. You really don't think I'm not at fault, do you? You know that I'm always the one pushing Evans to do things she doesn't like. I'm the one always forcing her to notice me, when she doesn't even like me. I'm not… I'm just saying that I'm not blameless, you know. However Evans treats me, it's well-deserved."

He flexed his fists, pursing his lips when he remembered how Lily had looked at him yesterday. Her eyebrows had been drawn together as she gazed at him with suspicion, the lack of trust visible in the curl of her scowl. It had hit him then that, Lily had always looked at him like that. Never once had she smiled at him, unless he counted the times she only smiled because she was forced to. Never once had she given him a kind look, not like the ones she gave to Remus and Snape.

How could she, when she thought that his love for her was suffocating?

James had lived in a delusional world for six years, and it was only now that he was waking up.

"Prongs…" Sirius' brows furrowed, clearly confused and worried for his well-being, which James appreciated but didn't think he deserved.

He knew that Sirius would always have his back, even when he was in the wrong. The same was for James as well. Sirius was seriously fucked up in the head, but he had a good heart and a fiercely loyal streak. He would sooner turn his wand on himself than betray his friends. Sirius was a Black, and Blacks were loyal to the people they chose to be loyal with.

James didn't know what had earned him Sirius' loyalty, but it was there, and he would make sure to be worthy of it.

"It's not your fault why this happened," Sirius began, pursing his lips when James shook his head.

"It is," James insisted. "It's my fault, anyways. Evans doesn't owe me her consideration or love. She doesn't owe me anything, Padfoot. It has been six years, Pads." His lips curved into a gentle, if not sad smile. "I think it's about time that I start moving on, yeah? Evans is never going to return my feelings, and I got to, you know, I got to live my life outside of her. I can't keep on loving her, not when it doesn't even make me feel good about myself most of the time."

And love was a powerful force, James believed in his entire heart. He saw that with his parents, Charlus and Dorea Potter, who overcame odds and made sacrifices just to be together. Dorea, one of the princesses of the Black family, a prestigious pureblood house, falling for a Potter, known as a prominent house of muggleborn sympathizers—a title away from blood traitor. They didn't have the easiest time, but they overcame that, got married, and had him after a series of unfortunate miscarriages.

And with them both as parents, James was showered with so much love, he'd nearly drown in it. Love, for him, had been easy to receive and easy to give, in whatever form it was—whether they'd be admiration, fondness, or adoration. He knew love as early as he was born, because he was made out of it.

He thought he would have that with Lily.

After six years, he was starting to get that he would never have that with her, and it was about time to accept that and move on.

And maybe, Sirius could see his resolve, his determination, and his stubbornness, because he backed off with a nod of his head.

"So, what are you going to do now?" His best friend asked, because the both of them knew how much James relied on a future where Lily was involved, how much he had dreamed of it. Now, to throw it all away, all the plans he'd made with her in it, Sirius must've thought he was now lost.

In some ways, he truly was.

James shrugged his shoulders, relief making the tension drain from his stiff posture. "I'll just do what I want to do and live the way I always meant to."

Unbidden, the image of Granger flashed across his mind, and he went quiet.

Granger who had lived the life she always wanted to, and lived in the way she always meant to. She never gave attention to what people said about her, too busy living her life to care about the rumors surrounding her. She had never been anyone else other than herself. In some ways, James admired that part of her, but he also envied it too.

"Well…" Sirius pursed his lips before shifting his gaze to the side. "Just so you know, if you need help, Prongs, you have us. We won't let you down."

James blinked at Sirius, stupefied by his offer, before he smiled softly. "Thanks, brother."

And really, James was truly lucky to have met Sirius at the mere age of eleven, because now he knew there was someone at his back, ready to defend and fight for him if he needed to.

"James Potter, are you stalking me?"

It was late at night, James had just been caught, and Granger's question was so startling that he nearly choked on his own spit.

"Stalking?!" He gawked at her, before he pulled the Invisibility cloak from his own head, revealing himself under the cloak. "No, no, I'm not!"

Because he really wasn't! James knew he could be quite over the top sometimes, but there were lines he wouldn't cross. For all that James liked Lily, he had never stalked her nor forced himself in a way that would damage their friendship irreparably.

Her sharp eyes narrowed in suspicion, making him fidget in his place. The glow of her Lumos spell made her appear deadlier, more intimidating with her curls appearing sentient. "I can't help feeling I'm seeing more of you these days."

"That's a given, considering we live in the same castle and we share the same common room," he couldn't help but point out, and what world was he living in now, pointing things out to Granger of all people?

"Good point," she admitted without much fanfare than he anticipated. "Except, I'm seeing you 30% more in the last few days than in the few years I've known you as a housemate."

James could feel his cheeks heat up at her insinuation. "Granger, I'm truly not stalking you. It's just that you're awfully good at catching me during curfew, and now you're noticing me rather than ignoring me like the times you've ignored everyone else."

"Another point," Granger said shortly, lowering her wand. "Except, you've been watching me for a while now. Don't think I haven't seen nor felt your gaze drilling a home into my back. For someone who claimed not to stalk me, you stare a lot."

James opened his mouth before he snapped it shut. He couldn't deny that, on top of breaking curfew every once in a while, he did stare a lot at Granger these past few days. Granger was a nice distraction when he was avoiding Lily.

"You're fascinating to watch," that was all he could reply because he couldn't say that he was using her to distance himself from Lily, not unless he didn't want to leave with his balls intact.

Besides, it was the truth. She truly was fascinating to watch, although she spent most of her time reading. For a person who was the subject of nearly most of the gossips and rumors in school, Granger was more low-key than he thought. She went on her way and never bothered people, but she had the uncanny ability of appearing to be the most knowledgeable and smartest person in the room. Her presence was overwhelming to begin with, to the point that standing next to her nearly made you invisible.

She never interacted with people, but James had noticed a few younger years talking to her when everyone else wasn't looking. He only just realized that she had a soft spot for children, because she never turned them away whenever they needed help. She was also more kinder and more patient with them, than with her classmates and seniors.

Her eyes would go soft as opposed to sharp, her doe eyes shining through. Her voice would turn tender as opposed to bland, each syllable of her words laced with care. Her movements would turn gentle and graceful, long fingers guiding them through their problems with an ease that would put the professors to shame.

James couldn't help but feel that she was more beautiful and more approachable in those moments. She wasn't scary when she was surrounded by eager and happy children.

She was only like that with children though. The rest of them could go fuck themselves for all she cared.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and James thought she would give more comments, but since when had Granger ever given in to someone's expectations?

Instead of saying anything more, she gave a flick of her wrist, and James watched as the light flickered from her wand—growing bigger snd bigger—until it broke off from the tip and floated above their heads. It flooded the hallway with a weak, but stable light that not even a few candles could provide.

James' jaw dropped while Granger tucked her wand into the sleeve of her robes. "How the hell did you do that?" He couldn't help but demand.

She just did it non-verbally!

She just raised an unimpressed brow, her eyes lackluster as she turned away from him, expecting him to follow.

As it was expected, he did.

They reached the Fat Lady's portrait a few moments later, their entire walk filled with silence. But it was a comfortable one, as opposed to the first time where he was filled with anxiety so bad, he was nearly shaking. Now, his shoulders were slumped, his Invisibility Cloak tucked inside of his pants, and his map hidden in his sleeves. His eyes trailed after Granger's back, walking away without a word once she fulfilled her duty of sending him back to their common room.

"Why don't you ever report me, Granger?" He asked after her.

He didn't expect an answer, so he stiffened when Granger paused and turned sideways. She tilted her head, making her see at least more than a half of her face. Shadows danced across her face, but her eyes had never appeared as bright as it was now.

"Do you want me to?" Granger asked. Why did she always do that, he wondered? Why did she always respond with a question when she was the one being asked?

Granger was a bad person to interrogate, he decided.

He shook his head at her question. "Not really, but I just find it strange. You've caught me at least three times now. You should've reported me to McGonagall, or taken me to Filch. But, you've been helping me get back to the common room instead."

"Will reporting you help?" Granger asked in that bland tone of voice, gaze detached, appearing as though she couldn't care less about their conversation even when it puzzled James to near madness. "I'm not blind. It's obvious you're figuring things out since the first night I caught you. Reporting you won't help you right now, and I doubt it can stop you from doing it again."

"I am breaking curfew though," James remarked, unable to stop himself. He should consider it a blessing that Granger didn't decide to punish him—because, undoubtedly, punishment from Granger was worst than everything and everyone else—but it was odd that Granger was letting him get away with it.

"I can't blame you for breaking curfew," Granger replied with a shrug of her shoulders, indifference masking her face. "Hogwarts is more peaceful at night. In the morning, everything seems so… loud. It makes it hard to think. That's why I became a Prefect."

James blinked his eyes. "You became a Prefect just to wander around the castle after curfew?"

Huh, Granger was getting more and more interesting. No wonder she remained the sole subject of at least 80% of the gossips and rumors around school. She was simply that intriguing.

"What do you think?" Granger snorted, letting her head fall sideways. "At night, I can think. It helps me calm myself, knowing that everyone is sleeping and safe in their beds. Morning at Hogwarts is far too loud for my liking."

James couldn't help but drop his shoulders, his lips pulling into a gentle. "Yeah," he replied just as softly. "I never realized how loud Hogwarts is in the morning until I spent time after curfew."

"Of course, you don't notice how loud Hogwarts is, considering you're the one contributing most of the noise," she pointed out, her lips curling up in a sneer.

James' lips twitched. It was a good moment until that comment.

"Anyways, you were troubled when I first found you, not so much right now, though," Granger noted without any prompt, which was another success, James supposed. "I take it you're now seeing things more clearly than the first time."

James shied away from her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt himself blush. He was thinking a lot these past few days, although it surprised him that Granger noticed that with just one look at his face.

"You put things a lot in perspective for me," James confessed unashamedly, not hiding the fact that her words from the last time they spoke had resonated within him. "You were right when you said that I should do something about Lily."

Granger stared at him for a moment before turning away, not saying a word of any kind. Strangely enough, James was more comforted by her silence than whatever statement would come out of her mouth. It was the Granger Effect, he supposed.

"Do you think I've changed a lot?" He asked before she could leave.

"You're growing up," Granger refuted in that confident way that left no room for denials or arguments. "Not changing to the point of unrecognizable, but growing up in a way that you always meant to. Everyone goes through these things, putting things into perspective and thinking things through. It's good that you're doing it earlier than the rest. It makes you appear less of an idiot."

James' mouth went agape. He could only stare at Granger's back when she turned on her heel and left, the darkness swallowing her whole.

Leaving the light with him.