James turned around the corner and stopped when he saw the flash of red hair and heard a familiar laughter. Dread pooled in his stomach when he saw Lily walking towards his direction, talking animatedly with Marlene.

Her green eyes sparkled like the shimmering depths of the sea. Her lips pulled into a smile that rivaled the radiance of the sun. Her cheeks glowed like a newly blossomed rose.

All while she was staring at Marlene, who was chattering about something.

She looked so in love—wearing the same expression he wore when he learned he fell in love with her—that it hurt.

As if sensing his presence, Lily's gaze jumped to his.

He bolted.

James felt like he could see everything so clearly now.

It felt like the rose-tinted glasses he viewed the world with had finally shattered under the weight of his newfound discovery. He felt as if he was standing in the eye of the storm, and all he could do was watch as the entire world swept and tore itself apart while he remained in his place—unmoved, untouched—but changing within.

It hadn't been that way, at first.

The first few weeks after learning about Lily's true relationship with her (female) friend, he'd spent them in a daze. He honestly couldn't remember what he did during those times; all he remembered was what he felt.

He alternated between deep, intense sorrow and cold, hard determination. Sometimes, he found himself unable to get out of bed, unable to sleep, and unable to eat. Sometimes, he found more energy to laugh, to cause trouble, and to be loud.

Like the tides, his emotions ebbed and flowed. Sometimes tremendously crashing and overwhelming his senses; other times, it was gentle and slow.

It hurt. It was a pain like no other. He woke up with a weight in his chest and every damn time before he slept, he would wish it would be gone the next day.

But no longer would he try to risk his life to wash away the pain, not by flying nor dueling. He would no longer seek someone else out to cause hurt just because he was. He knew better. Causing pain to others or to himself would only be a temporary fix, but not a permanent solution. In the end, it would all come down on him until he crumbled apart.

His friends helped.

After discovering Lily and Marlene's relationship and crying his heart out to Granger, he returned to the dormitory he shared with his best friends with swollen, red eyes, and dry tear stains across his cheeks. As soon as he got to their room, he collapsed on the floor, prompting his friends to panic.

Sirius had been alarmed when he saw his state. He ranted and raved, pacing and waving about the entire room, asking loudly and incessantly what happened to make James look like a wreck.

Remus had taken a place by his side, wiping his face and murmuring consoling words to his ears, assuring him to his bed and urging him to change his clothes.

Peter had alternated between trying to calm Sirius down and fetching James a few things to comfort him, like a blanket around his shoulders and the cup of steaming tea he asked from a House Elf.

They all worried while James could only stare listlessly at his hands.

It took a while for him to answer, enough for his voice to pierce through the noise Sirius made.

"I'm tired," James said, voice hoarse. Everyone went quiet, until his words were the only sounds they could hear. Broken and wretched, they came out of his mouth in erratic syllables. "I really, really want to move on from Evans. It hurts. I don't want this pain anymore. Please, please, take me away from this pain."

Sirius reddened with fury. "What the hell did she do to you, that fucking bitch?"

Of course, of course, their go-to assumption was Lily doing something to hurt James again. They knew how vicious Lily could be. Just as James was unrestrained from showing his affections, she too was unrestrained from showing her dislike.

Sirius disliked her out of loyalty for James. He thought Lily didn't deserve James, but had no other option but to help his best friend when it came to pursuing her. Still, James wasn't going to let Sirius call her names when Lily was utterly innocent and blameless.

James shook his head, his heart tugging inside of his chest. "She never did anything to me. This is all my fault. I'm just… I'm the one that keeps on holding on and making things difficult for myself. I'm the one who wants to move on, but not doing anything about it. I'm the one to blame for my own heartache. I'm the one who keeps on wanting, and Evans is perfectly entitled to reject me. I just… want to stop, because I want to know and feel what love truly is. I… want that," he finished with a quiet sigh.

Merlin, he truly wanted.

As a child, he had always been in love with love itself. How could he not be? He had the prime example of such unconditional love in the form of his parents. They were the epitome of love overcoming odds themselves. He'd heard the stories from both family, friends, and strangers, and he wanted. The reason why he held onto Lily for as long as he did was because he wanted to fight for the love he believed in.

The love that only he believed in.

"What brought this on, James?" Remus asked beside him.

He chuckled, bringing a hand up to his hair to mess it up. "I… I just discovered how pathetic I am, wasting my life away for someone who would never return my affections."

He wasted so much time, but he didn't want to think that it was nothing more than wasted time. His fierce loyalty and his blazing passion for Lily couldn't be a waste, even though the ending wasn't the outcome he'd expected.

It couldn't be wasted time when he'd been open with his interest and affections, not shying away or backing out despite Lily's rejections. The only thing he regretted was not stopping things earlier than he should've. But the rest he could not regret, because he did love.

He loved.

That was more than what people could feel or experience.

Because of Lily, he knew how to love ardently—selfishly and inconsiderately—and he learned the kind of love he no longer wanted to give, may it be to Lily or to someone else.

"I want to experience a love that isn't at the expense of losing myself," James continued. "I want a love that is reciprocated, a love that doesn't make me feel wretched. I want a love that grants me… peace and quiet. Someone to tide my storm, when everything else is hopeless."

Because for a long time, loving Lily hadn't brought him the good high one would get when flying. All the good feelings associated with love had swiftly vanished throughout the years until all that remained was a bundle of nerves, anxiety, and remorse.

"Please…" He looked at his friends, his eyes tinged red at the corners. "Help me, please."

And they did—in their own ways—as delicately as they could.

They helped James avoid Lily, or at least stop him from acknowledging her in his own, stupid fashion.

Sirius would introduce and talk about other people, although he stopped when James told him it was far too soon, so now he would distract him with Quidditch and pranking. Remus would talk about new, interesting information about their shared favorite subjects. Peter would encourage him to find new hobbies. They did all they could to help him.

They didn't speak or talk about Lily, at least not around him. Sirius would ignore her presence, and was even hostile whenever he encountered her. Remus and Peter were more cordial, except of the new distance they insisted upon her. James was grateful, although it was unnecessary to put so much pressure and blame on Lily when she'd done nothing wrong.

Lily was confused by the new treatment the Marauders were treating her with, baffled by the way James continued to ignore and avoid her. James knew as much when others began asking about it, mentioning how Lily was bewildered by his strange behavior.

He merely told him that he was moving on, which most of them found surprising.

It seemed that most of Hogwarts population were certain he would continue chasing Lily to the ends of the earth with the way he was throwing himself at her feet.

James didn't and couldn't blame them. He had felt that way before.

But now Lily was in love, was in a relationship with someone, and James needed to move forward otherwise he would rot in his stagnation.

He couldn't bear with himself to wait for her or to wish for her and Marlene's break-up. It would be too cruel, too heartless. He would never forgive himself if he wished for someone's—reciprocated—love to fade.

He loved Lily enough to let her go.

And he loved himself enough to move on without her.

"People really don't like me," a first year Slytherin boy whispered at Hermione, one hand grabbing her robes in a fist as they walked down to the dungeons.

It was late at night. James was trailing after Granger once again, having muffled his footsteps and cloak. Earlier, Granger had found the Slytherin boy hiding behind an alcove and decided to usher him back to his house.

"Why do you say that?" Granger asked, looking ahead.

"They say so," the boy muttered, walking closer to her as the hallway lights turned dim. "My roommates… I'm a half-blood. When they found out I'm a half-blood, they didn't like me after that."

He watched as Granger placed a hand on top of the Slytherin boy's head, her lips a terse line across her face, but her icy eyes radiated a warmth he'd only ever seen directed at children, never at them. The little boy ducked his head when he saw her expression, a deep blush dusting his cheeks.

And really, James couldn't blame him for his reaction.

In the darkly lit hallway, Granger shined like a star, and they were nothing more than planets orbiting and making her their sun.

"If they can't see your worth," Granger said, rubbing his head, "then prove yourself to them. If they continue to remain blind, then stop. Don't chase another person's approval; only chase your own. If you spend your whole life trying to please everyone, then you will please no one. Not everyone is going to like you, and this time at Hogwarts will only be a blip in your story, not the entirety of it."

They stopped in front of the dungeon. A large snake statue ready to lunge bore witness to Granger sitting on one knee, placing a forefinger under the boy's chin. She looked at him with placid eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

"You are in Slytherin because you are worthy of it, make no mistake. Don't let them make you feel otherwise because they don't know better. The Hat put you here for a reason, you chose Slytherin for a reason, so prove to yourself that you deserve to be in Slytherin. Work hard, be smart. They will rue the day they ever doubted you."

The boy looked at her with stars in his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before giving her a decisive nod.

"Thanks, Miss Granger," the boy said before he scurried towards the dungeons.

James waited for a moment before taking off his cloak while Granger stood on her feet, dusting off dirt from her knees.

"You really don't discriminate, huh?" James muttered as he walked next to her. She gave him a sideways glance, prompting him to elaborate. "Slytherins, Hufflepuffs… There's stigma when it comes to associating with people from another house, but you… you don't really care about that. If another Prefect found that boy, they would've deducted points and went to a Slytherin Prefect to make sure that boy is punished, but you—you offered him… comfort. You didn't threaten him with punishment nor did you punish him just because he's in a different house. You tried to help him instead."

"He's a child," Granger said, looking ahead. "We all are. We're allowed to have moments of weaknesses, and we shouldn't be punished for it. He's a young boy who's struggling to find his place in this very strange system Hogwarts placed us in. I can't punish him for being a child learning how to grow up."

James went silent. Together, they marched towards Gryffindor tower, the silence accompanying them the entire way.

Aside from his friends, another person was helping him through the painful process of—genuinely—moving on.

It was Granger.

Whenever he found himself unable to sleep, he sought her out at night. No longer would he avoid the corridors or spaces that showed her name in the Marauders Map.

Rather, he would seek her presence in the dead of the night, finding peace and comfort in her when the world fell quiet. He found comfort in the silence with her oddly enough.

And Granger never complained.

She would take one good look at him then look away, and he knew that meant he could stay. She'd continue her duties as a Prefect and he would trail after her under his Invisibility Cloak. Once she was done, she would pause and wait for him to fall into step beside her, before they would proceed to the Gryffindor tower.

She never said a word.

She didn't need to.

Granger was an unconventional entity he found himself drawn to. He couldn't still call her a friend, but he found himself with her most nights. Theirs was a connection made and forged in the dark halls of the castle stone walls. It was a relationship found and thrived in the dark.

The more he spent time with her, the more he got to know that Granger was… something else. Her heart might be made out of stone, but it didn't stop her from reaching out to the lost.

It was strange. He'd known Granger for six years. She was his housemate and his classmate for a lot of subjects, and yet, this was the only time he felt he had ever truly gotten to known her.

He found comfort in her silence; a sanctuary that he hadn't expected he would found in her; a type of personal haven—his personal haven. His pain didn't lessen, but his restless thoughts quieted in the presence of the formidable Hermione Granger. With Granger by his side, he felt his mind went clearer—his thoughts less chaotic—and he could think and ruminate over his actions for the next day.

With Granger, he didn't feel the need to vocalize his feelings or thoughts loudly. He didn't need to jump through hoops or act in a certain way to get her attention.

He could just be.

James never thought he would even want to just be, but with Granger—only with Granger—he found himself wanting and needing it.

Her presence was a soothing balm to his soul, even when he wasn't certain she felt the same way. She must've tolerated him if she let him break curfew with her.

Granger was Granger.

She was righteous and a stickler for rules, but she was willing to bend them and make compromises for the sake of one's well-being. She took care of people her own way, and never tried to ask anything in return. She kept to herself most of the time, and was completely antisocial, but she'd returned the courtesy and energy given to her.

She never tried to be anyone other than herself, living by the ideals, values, and standards she held herself to. She humbled him in that way.

In her consistency, he found himself changed.

And really, it almost felt like the beginning of another tragedy.

It was a full moon night and James found himself in the Shrieking Shack as Prongs, along with Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Normally, when they accompanied Moony during the full moon, he would settle around them and be calm throughout the night until the moon passed.

However, this night was different. Moony seemed agitated as he paced in the Shrieking Shack, sniffing and howling as he went around and back. He constantly bounded to the trapdoor in the shrieking shack, sniffing at the lock and scratching at the hinges, growling occasionally before whimpering and back to scratching. It admittedly made them nervous.

Padfoot tried distracting him with games, but Moony merely huffed and ignored him. Padfoot and Prongs shared a confused look. It was harder to communicate when they were in their Animagus form, and considering that Moony was a werewolf, they couldn't exactly transform back to being humans without getting mauled.

After many years of building trust with a werewolf, they were now considered pack—Moony's family—but that didn't include their human counterparts.

When Moony paced back to the trapdoor again, Padfoot barked, wagging his tail and bumping into the werewolf playfully. On Padfoot's head was Wormtail, scurrying over to Moony's head to his shoulders. Moony huffed and ignored Padfoot as he scratched at the trapdoor.

It was all too sudden for them to comprehend.

But then the trapdoor swung open with one of Moony's scratches, and without hesitation, the werewolf leaped out of the room, leaving the Animagi stunned. Padfoot barked, breaking them out of their stupor, and the three of them immediately darted towards the werewolf.

It felt like fifth year all over again, except Snape was no longer on the other side of the door, and they were all desperately trying to prevent Moony from creating a rampage.

Moony was running far ahead in the Forbidden Forest, evading the Whomping Willow's swinging branches with his keen senses. They wouldn't have been able to catch up if it weren't for Wormtail, who scurried from Padfoot's head and tapped on the spot that froze the Whomping Willow.

It must've been comical to see a dog looking eerily similar to a grim, a harmless deer, and a scurrying rat trying to chase after a werewolf when it was usually the other way around.

Prongs could see Moony halting a few feet away from them, making him huff in relief. Except that relief turned to horror when he saw the reason why Moony stopped.

Granger was standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest as if she was taking a midnight walk. Prongs' mind paused. What was she doing here?! What was she doing?! She wasn't supposed to be here—she was supposed to be inside the castle where there wasn't a werewolf ready to fucking maul her!

Granger paused when she met a looming werewolf just ahead of her. They all froze. Time seemed to cease. Moony huffed at Granger's face. Something in Prongs' brain cracked, and Granger—Granger fucking frowned.

"You stink," she commented—out of all things she could say with a werewolf in front of her. As if not caring the ramifications of her situation, she hummed in contemplation, her eyes half-lidded in a lackadaisical manner. "I should really create a new candy for werewolf breaths."

Who had time to think about candy when they had a werewolf in front of them?!

Moony growled. Prongs held his breath, digging his hoofs into the ground, readying himself to jump in between the witch and the werewolf. But then Granger grabbed Moony's snout shut with one hand without even sparing him a glance, cutting off his growls. Prongs nearly had a heart attack.

"Shut up," she snapped, "I can't think when someone's being too loud."

Prongs', Padfoot's, and Wormtail's eyes met, each of them conveying the same thought to one another: Granger was fucking insane.

But Moony, oddly enough, didn't snap or maul her as they had assumed. Instead, the werewolf sat on his hind like an obedient dog, and Prongs felt another crack on his brain when Granger let go of his snout and just stood there—didn't even run or cry or scream for help.

What the heck was going on.

"I see you're out and about once again, werewolf," Granger said, her gaze darting towards them. She tilted her head. "I see you've brought friends as well."

Moony huffed, his tail wagging.

What the actual fuck.

Granger hummed lightly under her breath. "You should've been at the shack, but you must've gotten a whiff of my scent to have come here."

Moony stuck his tongue out, breathing through his mouth. Granger wrinkled her nose and stepped back.

"Don't breathe in front of my face," she said, and Moony shut his mouth.

Really, what the fuck.

Granger's face smoothened over to her normal, neutral expression. She then rummaged into her messenger bag and took out what Prongs could see was a fat, juicy steak. Even Padfoot perked his ears up seeing the food. She then threw the steak at Moony, who caught the meat with his mouth.

"Don't stray from the shack too much," she said, raising her hand to pat—pat!—Moony's head. And the werewolf let—let!—her. "And don't go near the trail. Other students might see you, and might cause a ruckus. The last thing I want is to babysit grown children."

Moony whined under his breath but Granger merely turned her back and walked away, unafraid and bold, leaving them all stupefied, staring at her back.

Really. What. The. Fuck.

"She really did that?" Remus asked in disbelief the morning after the strange incident with Granger. "That can't be possible…"

They were surrounding the werewolf in the Hospital Wing. James was sitting at the end of Remus' cot, the curtains closed around them, granting them a bit of privacy.

"I'm telling you, it was real, and it was freaky," Sirius replied with a shudder, flexing his fingers as if reminding them of the scars at the back of his hand. "I mean, I've always known that Granger was insane, but it was really unhinged how she just… recklessly approached you. And she even gave you steak! What the fuck is up with that witch? She's not human, I'm telling you."

James pursed his lips, his stomach churning at Sirius' statements about Granger. While they were mostly true, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at his friend's negative view of the elusive witch.

Remus squirmed in his place, gaze darting to his side table, before looking back at them. "I…" he began, hesitation lacing around his voice. "I'm… actually not surprised."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, watery blue eyes wide.

Remus gave them an apologetic twist of his mouth. "Granger knows… what I am. She knows that I'm a werewolf."

James' jaw dropped and Sirius shook his head in denial.

"She's been visiting me for as long as I can remember," Remus continued, voice subdued. "Ever since third year, she's been coming over in the Hospital Wing after the full moon to give me chocolate. She doesn't even say anything. She just gives me chocolate and then leaves. I… she's…"

James didn't know what to think nor feel. He could only stare at his friend.

"That can't be right," Sirius muttered, looking as though he'd been struck by a Bludger, unable to fathom Granger's actions.

Most of the Wizarding World considered werewolves to be dangerous, lethal, and dark creatures. People shunned them, even most of the muggleborns, for the sole reason that werewolves were cursed. Even James, Sirius, and Peter struggled to accept Remus for a while before coming into the idea that their friend was slightly different from them.

But Granger—Granger knew Remus was a werewolf and never treated him differently.

Remus' voice turned quieter as his gaze lowered to his lap. "She's one of the first people who treated me kindly after knowing who and what I am."

"Again."

Expulso. Confringo. Petrificus Totalus.

"Again."

Aguamenti. Bombarda. Expelliarmus.

"Again."

James was heaving heavy breaths of air into his lungs, having just finished his duel. Across him, Sirius was sitting on the makeshift podium, tie askew, dripping of sweat. Turning his head to the side, he watched as Hermione and her victim of the day—er, her dueling partner, rather—faced off with each other on a much taller and longer podium.

Barty Crouch Jr. was panting under his breath, his eyes fluttering at the sweat dripping down from his forehead. He swiped the sweat off from his face and threw off his Ravenclaw robes—singed at the tips by the Confringo—revealing a plain shirt and black slacks.

The Dueling Club wasn't always an active one, although most students opted to join when Quidditch try-outs finished. People weren't required to attend since the sheer number of members were too many to count. Professor Flitwick might be the facilitator, but he was more focused with the Hogwarts choir than the club, despite being a three times Dueling Champion himself.

For all intents and purposes, it was truly Granger who managed the entire club. Overseeing the duels, patching up wounds, conducting meetings—she took her presidential duties as seriously as she took her prefect ones. And like sheep, they fell in line because they knew how deadly she could be with or without a wand.

Normally, James went to the Dueling Club when he needed some physical release of some sort. However, he came this day with another purpose: to watch Hermione Granger's duel. And—he looked around and noted the number of heads gathered around, all turned towards the same direction—it seemed that he wasn't the only one watching.

"She's a bloody monster," Sirius muttered to him as soon as he came to his side, still catching his breath, narrowed eyes trained on Granger who—for all intents and purposes—looked as though she was merely loitering about.

James swallowed on dry mouth and nodded his head. Granger brandished her wand, her back straight, her eyes listless but sharp as she stared at Crouch. Crouch Jr. wiped the sweat from his chin and then made the dueling stance, lifting his wand and pointing it towards her with trembling fingers.

"Again," he rasped.

"He's suicidal," Sirius muttered with a sneer. "He's really just… I don't know, relentless? Crazy? Why would he even do this to himself in front of everyone?"

James didn't deny his friend's words. Everyone knew at Hogwarts that Crouch was a tiny bit—read: a lot—obsessed with Granger. James had seen him following and chasing after her from time to time as well. Granger didn't seem bothered by his company though, allowing him to pester her or rather, letting him. If James didn't know any better, he would say that she was indulging him.

Granger looked at her gold pocket watch with a hint of frown. "This is the last one. I still have a Charms homework to finish," she said as she closed her pocket watch with a snap before slipping it under her robes.

Crouch didn't need to be told twice. He jabbed his wand, crying out an incantation, "Expulso," before leaping to the side in anticipation to Granger's next spell.

Granger merely stepped to the side, wand steady, eyes alert, before disposing three spells at once. Not that they heard or she spoke or anything. She didn't even need to open her mouth, she merely tilted her wand, and Crouch went flying back a few feet away from her, almost at the edge of the podium. When he stood, he slid on the ice beneath his feet, and then his wand came flying to Hermione's awaiting hand.

As if that wasn't enough, Hermione had put Crouch in a body-bind and knocked him out before he could say anything. James shuddered as Crouch slumped on the floor, unconscious and unaware, and Granger took out her pocket watch and hummed to herself.

"I even have five minutes to spare," she remarked to herself before she turned on her heel and walked down the podium.

Sirius flexed his fingers, pulling the scars across the back of hands. James watched her walking with her head held high, the crowd parting automatically for him. He could feel the chills down his spine, a reminder that Granger wasn't meant to be messed with.

Then Sirius darted from his side towards Granger, and James felt his mouth drop open when he stopped in front of her.

"Got five minutes to spare for me, Granger?" Sirius asked, twirling his wand in his hand.

Granger looked at Sirius like he was shit on the street she almost stepped on. "One minute," she said and went back to the center podium.

His stomach churned as he hurried to the front of the gathering crowd, stuck in an awkward position between two friends. He didn't know whether he wanted Sirius to win or Granger. But then again, everyone knew of the likely outcome of this duel.

Granger never lost—not against another student—not even against a Professor. She was the three-times Dueling Champion for a reason because she was never beaten.

It was almost tragic, like some sort of Greek epic, as Sirius raised his wand—before he could utter a spell—he'd already fallen down to the floor, stiff and immobilized. Granger merely tilted her head, staring at him the way a person would observe a dead body, before leaving the podium.

When Granger left, some Ravenclaw woke Crouch up with a spell, and he sat up with a start, looking around him.

"Where's Granger?" Crouch demanded as he accepted the wand offered to him, dispelling the binds that Granger left him with.

He didn't even wait for a reply, immediately jumping to his feet, and running towards the exit.

James watched him leave, heart in his throat, before he rushed to his friend and dispelled the spell Granger struck him with. Sirius nearly bolted from the floor, breathing heavily.

"Fuck, I lost didn't I?"

James grimaced. "Er…"

Sirius swore, grabbing and messing his hair, "I need a drink."

James breathed out. "Kitchens?"

"Kitchens."

"Potter."

He froze when he heard her say his name, his heart thumping painfully against his chest, he felt a crack on his ribcage. Still, he braced himself as he faced her with a wide and cheeky smile.

"Evans," he nearly howled due to his nerves, raising his hand to ruffle his hair—a habit betraying his anxiety. He felt jittery as she approached her, a frown on her lips. He clenched his fists to his sides.

Always a frown, never a smile. He could never make her happy, not the way Marlene could.

"Do you know where Remus is? Professor McGonagall is looking for him or something," she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

He wanted to sink into the ground and hide from her evergreen eyes. He wanted for the sky to open up and strike him with lightning to stop the earthquakes in his heart.

"I don't know actually, but when I see him, I'll tell him about it, yeah?" he said with a tilt to his head, causing her to furrow her brow.

"Fine," she said, turning on her heel and leaving.

He pursed his lips, his jaw clenching as he watched her walk away. How many more times would he watch her back before his heart gave in?

James was following after Granger under his Invisibility Cloak. He wasn't a Prefect like Granger, so he didn't have the same privileges as hers, which meant that his nightly routine had to be done discreetly. It was only when they were walking back to the Gryffindor dormitory that he would take off his Invisibility Cloak.

The entire night was spent in complete silence, as usual. Granger did her bit as a prefect, her strides confident and unhesitant. She walked with purpose as she went about her rounds catching wayward students. Admittedly, Granger was the best prefect Hogwarts ever had. Just one look at her intimidating stare and imposing figure—quite rivaling Professor McGonagall, which he didn't thought was possible—and every person she caught immediately apologized profusely before scampering off.

James swore it was a talent of hers.

They walked around for a while with Granger's muted Lumos lighting the path. They turned around the corner and James' inhaled sharply once he recognized the tapestry by the corner, the paintings on the wall—

This was where he met his downfall.

It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Passing through, he could almost see himself standing in the corner, frozen in place as Lily and Marlene appeared and revealed their love in the dark.

Something stuck in his throat, sharp and hard, and when he gulped it down, he couldn't feel the way it dropped to his stomach. He looked down at his feet as he followed after Granger, willing for his legs to move when it felt like poison coursed through his veins.

He could only breathe easily when they left the corridor, turning around the corner yet again. Once they had, his knees weakened and dropped to the floor. He breathed deeply, gulping in large amounts of air, seeing nothing as he stared at the floor.

He heard footsteps, and his Invisibility Cloak suddenly raised and there was Granger, with her Lumos light and her Devil Snare hair, and he suddenly found himself breathing easily as he stared into her bottomless eyes.

Gold.

Her eyes—gold—they were gold—why had he never noticed that before?

He blinked his eyes—hazel—and let out a shuddered breath. Gulping through dry throat, he chuckled, the sound weary.

"Sorry about that," he rasped. "Just—I—I lost some strength in my knees for some reason."

She pursed her lips, her eyelashes lowering to give him a half-lidded stare. Something caught in his throat, this one less painful, and he couldn't find it in himself to swallow.

"Just… some days are harder than others," he explained, compelled despite her lack of questions. "I—I am moving on though. I'm trying. I'm… trying so hard. But… but it doesn't mean that I'm n-not—struggling sometimes. I—I"—his voice lowered to a near wretched whisper—"I loved her for six years after all."

It wasn't an easy love. It wasn't a requited love. It wasn't a great love. It wasn't an everlasting, true love. But it was a long love—it was a love difficult to forget—it was a love that defined him in many ways that now he felt at lost on what to do.

Granger was still staring at him, now with a tilt to her head, her expression unreadable. She was crouching on the floor, her knees tucked to her chest, one arm lifted to spread the Lumos light between them while the other arm was over her knees. She dipped her chin to her arm, head still tilted.

She was close—so close—too close—that he could feel the brush of her warm, minty breath against his face and he was struck with a sudden bout of shyness that he had to look down at the floor.

Her eyelashes were longer than he realized.

And her eyes were so bright, it could've had a light on its own.

Suddenly, he felt her fingers carding through his hair and his muscles stiffened, because what in hell was going on?

She was touching him. She was touching his hair, running her fingers through it, and then patting his head just like one would do to a dog. His heart sounded so loud in his ears, that when her hand left his hair, he heard a loud thump in his chest before his heartbeat settled.

Merlin, was he really going to get a heart attack at his age?

"You did good, James," she said abruptly that his head whipped up, eyes wide with surprise and disbelief.

But that was all she said, and she began moving back, and he didn't know why but his hand shot up and grabbed her arm and she was now looking back at him, eyebrows raised, a hint of question in her eyes.

His mouth suddenly went dry as he asked, unable to pull his gaze from her, "Am I? Good, I mean. Have I really done good? Because… Because I feel… like I'm not doing enough. I… shouldn't I be doing more?"

Granger blinked her eyes before they dropped to his hand holding hers. His grip tightened for a second before he released her from his grip.

"Learning is a lifelong process," she said, turning to the side, her back hunched over, "but it is also a painful one, and sometimes we don't see the progress we make until we get to the end. The fact that you've taken the first steps is more than enough. Realizing your flaws or faults, actively trying to move on and be better not just for other people but for yourself, and continuing to reflect despite your broken heart—it's more than what people are capable of doing. If you think it's not enough, then maybe it's not, and if you think you haven't done more, then think more so you can do more."

James blinked. "It… it can't be that simple, though." It sounded so simple from Granger's mouth, that he had a hard time believing it.

"But it is as simple as that," Granger responded, one eyebrow raised. "Sometimes, the most complex problems have the simplest solutions. Sometimes, all we need is to step back to see the big picture rather than pieces of them. Let's not make a mountain out of a mole hill. If you want to do more, then do more. Be more. You're certainly capable of it. Just because you don't think you can do it, doesn't mean you truly can't. You've done good, James, and I have no doubt that you could do more."

Then her lips quirked—just slightly—just a smidge—that if James hadn't gotten so used to her indifferent expression, he would've missed it.

But he caught it, and it was there, and he was blinded.

"I'm almost looking forward to what you can do," she said, stepped back, and turned away.

And James was left reeling on the floor, his knees weak for other reasons.

Who knew that Granger's smile could also be deadly?

The thing about Granger was that once you started thinking about her, you could never stop.

There were so many things he wanted to know about Granger—so many questions he liked to ask—but he didn't think she would ever let him in. While he knew that she treated him differently from the rest, James could instinctively feel the line she drew between them.

He wanted to cross the line.

He didn't want to cross the line.

Because once he crossed over, he knew there was no going back. He would see Granger for what she truly was, and she'd ruin him forever.

He didn't want to be ruined.

Not again.

Or at least, not yet.

One day, in the distant future, when someone asked about the strange muggleborn Gryffindor girl who didn't act like a muggleborn at all, about what she was doing, where she was, and how she changed, James wanted to answer first.

He'd tell that someone where Granger was, what she was doing, and how she'd changed since Hogwarts. He'd tell that someone that he just saw Granger last week and when more questions were asked, he'd know the answers.

In the distant future, he didn't want to ask the questions about where she was or how'd she been; he wanted to be one answering them.

He threw the golden Snitch in the air and watched it flutter around his neck when he heard the common room door opening. He looked up and saw Marlene walking in, eyebrows furrowed and eyes rimmed red. Lily followed closely behind, staring worriedly at her friend—girlfriend.

Marlene suddenly turned around to face Lily, making her stop. She said something that caused a slight downward tug on Lily's lips before Marlene stormed away and headed to their dormitory. Lily didn't follow behind.

Her shoulders were slumped, her gaze casted to the floor. She looked so crestfallen, that James cleared his throat, and Lily snapped her gaze towards him.

"Had a fight?" he asked, voice soft.

Lily blinked her eyes and looked away. "It's none of your business, Potter," she responded although it lacked the vehemence it usually held.

"I'm not trying to pry," James immediately assured her. "Just that… you know, friends fight. I also fight with Sirius and the others sometimes. So, I get it."

Although Marlene and Lily weren't friends.

"I learned that sometimes we have to let go of our pride and you know, be the bigger person and talk it out," he said, looking away from her. "Holding onto pride and being stubborn isn't worth the pain that comes with it. It's better to mend things now than to suffer in silence later, you know?"

The common room was silent after, and James dug deeper into his seat, his ears heating.

Then he heard Lily took a deep breath. "I'll… keep that in mind," she uttered, awkwardness laced around her words. "Thanks, Potter. I'll see you soon."

He merely gave a wave, not even looking when he heard her leave. He exhaled heavily and looked down at his feet.

It wasn't easy. But the hole in his chest seemed to stop swallowing him whole.

In the end, he settled for peaceful acceptance.