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It had been three days since Lily Evans received her letter. It came at precisely 2:00 in the afternoon, hefted by a small barn owl. Like every year, her sister Petunia got to it first, hiding it in some obscure place in the house. But unlike every other year, Lily was 17, she could use magic, so no begging was needed. A simple summoning charm procured the letter and Lily opened it with eagerness. Along with the usual school lists in maroon ink, there was an important notice. What she read surprised even her. It was a brief note stating that the dark wizard Voldemort was rising to power. It went on to explain that students should be extremely careful when not with a witch or wizard of age. Gripping the rough paper Lily’s eyes darted across the paper. The paper listed some procedures to ensure safety, especially regarding muggle-borns. Shaken, Lily scrubbed her hands over her pale, freckled face. How on earth was she going to tell her parents? Should she even go back to Hogwarts?
Lily sighed. It was a tired sigh, one of someone who knew a war was coming. She wondered how she was going tell her parents that she wasn't safe anymore; no child ever wanted to tell their parents that they were in danger. Her green eyes dimmed as she clutched the letter tight to her chest. She hadn't realized that there was something else in the letter until she felt something give her a slight poke. Cautiously, she pried open the crumpled envelope to see a gleaming badge winking up at her. Fingers shaking, she gingerly picked up the badge and saw the shining H.G. etched across it. Head Girl. All thoughts of war were forgotten as a grin stretched across her face in pleasant surprise. It wasn’t that the badge was expected; Lily was too quiet a person to show superior leadership skills. However, she was the brightest witch of her generation and kind to everyone, so she figured her name wouldn’t be completely disregarded when choosing candidates. That being said, she was especially eager to show her peers her accomplishment, and show them that she wasn’t just a goody two-shoes who always had her hand in the air to answer a question. A lot of people liked Lily, and she had a lot of acquaintances (simply from shyly waving/smiling at them). However, she only had two actual friends; Marlene and Alice. It wasn’t really a problem; they had the most fun together and spent most of their free time joined at the hips.
As soon as Lily had gotten her badge, she had burst out of her room in an uncharacteristic display of whooping and hollering.
“I got head girl, I got head girl!”
She skidded by Petunia’s room, slipping in her white Carbrini socks on the wooden floor.
“Tuney! I got head girl!”
“No one cares about your pathetic badge, you FREAK!” She bellowed through the closed door. Lily’s happy bubble deflated a little bit, as it always did when Petunia opened her mouth. Luckily for her, she heard her parents calling from downstairs.
“Coming!” She shouted, jubilant once more. Clutching the heavy parchment letter in one hand, and the shiny badge in the other, she did her best not to fall down the stairs with the overwhelming excitement.
As expected, her parents were thrilled with their daughter. They doted appropriately on her, making up for the doubt that the loathing Petunia had seeded in her brain. Lily’s mum couldn't stop hugging her, her wavy auburn hair gently tickling her daughter's chin. Lily’s father wouldn't stop loudly declaring his pride in her achievement. For a beautiful moment, they were a normal, carefree family; and that meant the world to Lily, who was fearing the impending war.
Now the war seemed closer than ever as Lily stood in a nearly deserted Diagon Alley. Any shoppers that were present had their heads bowed as they peered at the newspaper boy bellowing out headlines full of fear and despair. Lily, however, had yet to experience firsthand the devastation. Sure, she got chills from thinking about it, but she was slightly removed from all the hype. To her immense relief, the farther she moved in diagon alley, the more people she saw, though very few she knew. She lingered in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, surprised to not find the usual crowd around the latest broomstick model. Only a few morose looking teens lurked in front of a display case that only held a single, slightly dusty broom. Lily narrowed her eyes at the sign plastered to the case, SHIPMENTS DELAYED, it blared. Lily couldn't help but give a small smile, Potter must be in distress not to have his shiny new quidditch accessories at the ready. She meandered along the cobbled road until she came to Flourish and Blotts, by far her favorite store. She pulled out her supplies list and stepped into the shop. The crisp scent of books was all around her and she smiled at its familiar scent. The shopkeeper gave her a small smile as she walked in. Grinning back, she wove her way through the narrow aisles. Vision narrowed to the shelves, she missed most of the other customers. Lily brushed her fingers along the spines of the books until she came across the one she was looking for, the brand new advance Defense Against the Dark Arts book. It wasn’t required for Seventh Years, but since the threat of war was growing, she figured it couldn’t hurt.
She picked up the book, feeling a shiver of excitement race down her spine. She gently traced the leather with the tip of her finger. Then she opened to the first page and gently inhaled the scent of fresh print and thick paper. Then, she heard a low chuckle that startled her out of her skin, making her gasp. Whirling around, scarlet hair flying, she turned to confront the chuckler.
“I knew you were weird Evans, but this takes the cake.” James Potter sounded unusually cheerful. She rolled her eyes, already disappointed.
“Well if it isn't James Potter. Never thought I’d catch you in a bookstore. I didn’t even know you could read.” She retorted, a cocktail of anger simmering in her veins. Potter looked pleased to see her so flustered.
“Harsh, Evans. Is that any way to greet your Head Boy?” Lily gaped at the shining badge on his chest; doing, she was sure, a great impression of a goldfish. At his smug look, she managed to recover quickly.
“Doesn’t explain why you’re lurking in the DADA section. You’re much too brilliant at the subject to bother reading petty books.” Lily snarled, deciding not to mention that she was Head Girl.
Potter looked suddenly uncomfortable, “Actually, I was looking for you.”
“Ha ha. Really funny Potter.”
“Uh, actually Evans, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Don’t tell me: you wanted to ask me out for the eighty-fifth time.” The look that he gave Lily seemed to be a cocktail of hurt, anger and anxiety.
“Listen to me Evans-”
“No, you listen to me, Potter,” Lily said with all the bitterness she could, “I’ve about had it with your bigotry.”
“Well well,” said a voice, “Are you two having a bit of a domestic?” Lily whirled around, green eyes narrowed.
“No, Black, we were playing quidditch,” Lily said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I was on my way out.” With a huff, she stalked away. It was at times like this that she wished she wore heels; they would make the best clicking noise right about now. Lily was so busy fuming that she almost missed Black’s snide comment which included a word that caused Potter to shout, ‘SIRIUS!’ and Potter yelling ‘Evans! Come back, I just wanted a word! Evans! LILY!’ It was the Lily that almost made her turn around, but she held firm. She had never heard Potter call her anything but Evans before, never.
As she made her purchase, Lily couldn't help but wonder what Potter had wanted to talk to her about. She was tempted to go back and ask him, simply because he had acted so mature and composed about it, unlike the Potter she had known in years past. That was all, she assured herself. Her desire to go back to him had nothing to do with his sparkling hazel eyes, eyes that had frowned at her when she rebuffed him, or his endearingly messy hair… Lily forcibly marshalled her thoughts. Nothing about Potter was endearing in any way, and it was going to stay that way forever.
“Aw well Prongs,” She heard Black sigh, “Some marriages just aren’t meant to last.” She slammed the door on her way out. Deciding not to trouble herself with Potter and his stupid badge, she headed toward the apothecary, making good time on the uneven brick road.
A bell cheerfully dinged as the entered the cramped shop. Hundreds of potion ingredients sat crowded on looming shelves. After picking out the essentials (beetle eyes, frog spawn, unicorn hair, the like) she made her way to the counter. A few witches were already standing there, seeming to be gossiping with the witch behind the counter.
“I’ve always told Eliza that if she married him there would be trouble, and look where she is now,” a rather short witch commented, “so sad, so sad.” Lily rolled her eyes at them, feeling a bit downtrodden.
“All the families that must have been affected too,” cut in the witch behind the counter, “I mean, Eliza’s family of course, but their daughter was also quite close with the Potters. I believe the son is still at Hogwarts as well, such a young age to experience loss.”
Lily’s mind went blank for a moment while the witches murmured in agreement. She vaguely remembered reading about a Helen in the muggle paper, Potter was connected to it? Or he at least knew the woman. As she waited for the witches to finish checking out, she pondered the enigma that was Potter.
She had met him on the train first year, when she tried to find a compartment with Severus. They hated each other on principle, which started their relationship off on the wrong foot. From there, they became enemies, simply because Potter bullied her best friend, and that was not ok. What made it worse was his infatuation with her; he incessantly had chased after her since third year. Lily had stopped being friends with Severus in fifth year, and become closer with her other two friends, Marlene and Alice. Potter had seen this as an opportunity to ask Lily out as frequently as he could, in increasingly creative and outrageous ways. Of course, Lily had turned him down; she wasn't the kind of girl who messed around with immature and obnoxious boys. She had spent many of her hours, red in the face, running away from an over-persistent Potter. It didn't help that she was convinced that he only wanted her because she resisted him; if the rumors were to be believed he could make girls fall at his feet with just a smile. If the rumors were to be believed, he had been with at least half the female population already.
Lily sighed again, lost in her thoughts. She didn't notice that the witches had left until the shopkeeper cleared her throat loudly.
“Dear, are you ready?” Lily started, and blushing, set her purchases on the counter.
“Um, excuse me,” she mumbled to the witch behind the counter, “Did I hear you mention the death from the papers?”
The witch gave a sad smile, “It’s terrible,” she said, “the killings I mean. Every day a new muggleborn goes missing or is killed. Poor souls.”
Lily felt her heart start to beat against her chest. Nodding, she made pulled out a couple gold coins from her purse.
“Evans!” Lily whipped around and saw Potter standing breathless in the doorway. He looked rather windswept and flushed, his ebony hair tousled. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, the kind of look that made girls weak in the knees, and he wore the smallest smirk. She arranged her face into what she hoped was an appropriately patient, yet disinterested look. He looked at her oddly.
“Evans, are you ok?” He asked, with genuine concern. “You look like you-”
“Banged my knee, that’s all.” She blushed cherry red.
“Oh.” Potter looked relieved. “Look, are you done? ‘Cause I really wanted to talk to you about something,” She looked at him sharply. “Ok, can you hurry though? Sirius and the boys said something about …” He trailed off as she glared harder at him.
“Fine, I guess I have a moment. What is it?”
“Well, I was kind of hoping we could go somewhere more... private.” He said with a wink. Lily scowled at his lewdness. "Oh come on Evans, lighten up!” Potter, though acting unusually mature, was still as playful and cheery as she remembered. Lily huffed, but allowed him to gently lead her over to a bench that was out of the main commute. He sat and softly pulled her down next to him.
Uncharacteristically, Potter seemed reluctant to take initiative. Lily sensed the silence growing awkward, and fidgeted in her seat a bit, gently extracting her hand from his warm grasp.
“Potter, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“War.” Lily was shocked to silence.
“War? I didn't think that James Potter had it in him to be serious!” She could have possibly toned down the harshness level.
“Lily.” He whispered, once again shocking Lily too much to speak. “Lily,” he said again, much more urgently, “listen. War is obviously unavoidable. I mean, you’ve seen the papers.” Lily nodded, “Anyway, war is hardly a place for you, especially one of this kind.”
“Excuse me!” Lily growled, “ what ‘one of this kind’ do you mean? One with magic!? I’m a witch Potter.”
“I know, I know,” He insisted, “I mean you know how things went with Severus and-”
“Oh do NOT bring Sev into this Potter.” Lily was spitting fire.
“N-no, I only meant-”
“Oh I know what you meant,” Lily spat, “and I’ll have you know I am not some stupid girl you can push around Potter. Now if you don’t mind I’ll be going.”
“Evans.” He groaned as Lily stormed out the door, leaving her potion ingredients behind her.
Lily wanted to punch something. Scratch that, she wanted to punch Potter. She was a WITCH and she had RIGHTS and she was NOT some useless muggle! She hadn’t dealt with this kind of behavior since Severus, and to hear that sentiment echoed by James Potter was as surprising as it was unwelcome. As she stormed blindly down the street, she realized that she was crying. Stopping suddenly, she wiped away her tears and rubbed her puffy eyes.
“Oh don’t stop Evans, let them all out,” said the snarky voice of Sirius Black, and shockingly, Lily was hardly surprised to find him there. After all, he always turned up when she needed him the least. And, as he had assured her, it was his specialty.
“Black.” she sighed.
“You should sit down,” he smiled, pointing to a bench, “something’s obviously wrong.”
In silent gratitude, Lily slouched into the bench fingering her robes anxiously.
“So,” Black said confidentially. “did a girl say you’re fat?”
“It might surprise you Black, but girls do other things than insult their body fat percentage.”
He grinned with a cock of his eyebrow “You would know better then me.” Lily groaned. “But in all seriousness Evs, what's wrong.”
“It has to do with Potter.”
“Domestic?” He said with far too much eagerness.
“Black,”
“But please, continue.”
Lily sighed and relayed the strange events of the day, leaving out the conversation of the rather informal witches. Once she had finished she looked at him with a cocktail of eagerness and dread blooming in her chest. Black was Potter’s best friend. No doubt he would side with him. However, to her surprise, Black was laughing. He was clutching his chest as he shook with laughter. But as soon as he saw the exasperated expression on Lily’s face he smiled as he wiped tears from his eyes.
“Sorry Evans,” he began, “It’s not nearly that funny, but if you had heard the stressed out speeches James gave to me, you’d be laughing too.”
“I seriously doubt that.” muttered Lily.
“Well, I think that you should stop being so doubtful. If Jamesie wasn't my best mate, I’d totally tell you everything, but as it is…” He shrugged apologetically, and Lily considered smacking him. “No, no, before you go getting all worked up, I will tell you, you should hear him out.” His voice took on an unusually gentle cadence. “He isn't a bad person Lily. Sure he may say some inappropriate catch-phrases and be a teensy bit overconfident-”
“You think?” coughed Lily. He ignored her.
“-but he's got real courage and compassion.” Unbidden, memories flashed through Lily’s mind: Potter helping the first years with transfiguration. Potter captaining Gryffindor to victory. Potter saving Severus. She realized Black was still talking. “...So, listen, give him another chance. I know you two haven’t always gotten along but you need to talk to him. Trust me.”
“But Black-”
“No but’s. Go talk to him.”
Glowering, Lily rose off the bench and trudged away, hands in her jean pockets. She meandered down the cobbled road, not having a particular destination in mind while an internal war was waged in her head. Should she talk to Potter, or should she skip the experience and head home? As she walked, she passed another missing poster. There were new ones everyday, mostly muggleborn witches and wizards; their deaths would be announced in the papers the next day. As she passed on poster, the face stood out to her. It seemed vaguely familiar- and then she saw the name. It was Helen, Helen Blackthorn, a muggleborn Ravenclaw in the year above her. Eliza Blackthorn’s daughter, and, if the witches in the apothecary were to be believed, one of Potter’s oldest friends. Fear twisted in her gut and Lily felt a tear roll down her cheek. She had hardly known the girl and yet… Agitated, Lily ran through the streets, back to the bench where she had last seen him. Sure, Lily was confused as anyone, the events of the day could befuddle Einstein. However, she took Black’s words to heart. She would give Potter another chance. Upon arriving at the bench, Lily realized that he was not sitting on it. Looking back, he hadn’t been lurking in the entrance of Quality Quidditch supplies, nor had he been strutting around outside Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlor. She swept around the alley one last time before giving up and padding into Flourish and Blotts once again.
Ever since she was a child, Lily had loved books. They always took her away from the tribulations of the present, and this was no exception. She needed an escape, and always, books were there for her. They were like her portal to another world. She picked up the first book she found (a juicy vampire romance) and retreated to a dark corner in the store, content to just sit and read. About 15 minutes had passed and Lily was absorbed in the story. She was jolted out of her fantasy (she had just gotten to the good part) by tumbling sounds of books being dropped. She looked up, and was surprisingly unsurprised to find Potter towering above her, a pile of books at his feet. They looked at each other for a moment, and Lily felt compelled to notice the faint shadows on his jawline before he cleared his throat and looked down at his feet.
“Hello… Potter.” Lily said, unsure how to start. Potter looked at her, all traces of the cheerful demeanor had been washed from his face.
“H’lo, Evans.” He sounded tired. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured weakly toward the ground next to her. In an uncharacteristic display of tolerance, Lily scooted over. He sat down with a great huff, and it was a while before he next spoke. “Evans…” He trailed off. “Lily,” she started at his casual use of her given name. “Are you scared?” He asked.
“Of what?” She replied softly, though she already knew the answer.
“Of this; of the war, of Voldemort, of death?” He sounded gentle, and in the dim light his eyes seemed faded.
“Well,” Lily paused. “I guess I am scared, isn't everyone? I’m worried that he’ll be targeting me, I’m worried that I’ll have to fight. I'm so terrified, but at the same time, I don't know what it's really like. I haven't really had anything happen to me, so I‘m not really… That is, I don't know how scared I should be.” She finished her confession quietly, bracing herself for his scathing return. To her surprise, he matched her gentleness and her tone.
“I do.” Lily looked at him. He wasn't looking at her, he was looking off into the distance as if recalling a painful memory. “I know exactly how scared you should be. That's why I wanted to talk to you; you just don't know what's going to happen. I'm so sacred Lily, I'm so bloody terrified I don't even know what to do with myself.” He sounded bitter and self deprecating, and Lily felt like she was breaking. She gently laid a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, as if it was a black widow spider, but slowly relaxed into her warm palm.
“It's ok to be scared, Potter, er, James. Even the most courageous people shake with fear sometimes.” She surprised herself with the sentiment, and a startled Potter- James, that would take some getting used to- looked into her eyes. By now their bodies had shifted so they were mostly facing each other, both leaning heavily on the bookshelf. Pot- James smiled softly, and Lily thought he was going to say something flirty and ridiculous.
“I know Lils. But I’m not too scared for me, I know that I could probably hold my own in a duel. Besides, if anyone harmed a hair on my head, Sirius would kill them.” They both chuckled weakly at his joke, no matter how terrible it was, they were desperate for a laugh. “I’m mostly worried about you,” James continued, “That's what I meant earlier. I wasn't saying that you're not a witch, I think you're one of the most fantastic witches in Hogwarts.” Lily blushed at how real and frank James was being. “I'm worried because he's hunting them; he’s hunting muggleborn witches and wizards and he's ruthless and all he wants to do is kill them and I couldn't stand it-” His voice broke with emotion. He continued in a stronger voice. “I couldn't stand it if another person was taken too.”
He went silent, lost in grief and regret and guilt. Lily was so lost, so tangled. It was like the very foundation of her existence had been shattered, to see James so weary and fractured. He had always been a light person, floating through life as if he were above all the pain, and in reality he was hiding so much sadness behind his carefully crafted exterior. The way James had spoken had moved something in Lily, and she began to realize what exactly the war meant. Her chest ached, and she wished for one last carefree moment with her mother and father. Strangely, she felt like crying.
It was dark in their corner, and secluded. Just enough light shone into the corner that lily could make out James’ eyes and shadowy imprints of his face. She lay, curled like a cat, with her head on James’ chest, listening to his every breath and the strong and steady beat of his heart. James sat against the shelves, legs outstretched, with one strong arm holding Lily to him. Their companionable silence was only permeated by the scent of ink and paper. The air clung to them like a wet blanket that perfectly matched the mood. James was still, but every tiniest movement he made echoed through Lily’s body, reminding her that they had never been close- they had seven years of animosity between them; yet here they were, curled up like their lives depended on it. It was strange what war did to people. Lily felt the deep rumble of James’ chest as he cleared his throat.
“I was with her.” Lily sat up, confused. “With Helen, I mean. When she died.” Lily was silent, not knowing how to respond. She gently took his hand, intertwining their fingers. She stroked the top with her thumb, wanting to comfort him.
“Five days ago, I watched a woman who’s always been like an older sister to me die.” His voice was thick, throat clogged with tears.
“How did it happen?” Lily asked gently, curious but not wanting to salt the wound.
“We were walking down the street in Godric’s Hollow, I remember she was laughing at me for something… She always had the most cheerful laugh. Her parents didn't want her to go with me, because she was muggleborn and they were worried that she would be attacked… They basically had her on house arrest, I had to do something to cheer her up,” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself he wasn't to blame. “So I snuck over to her house and we went out, we were just going to hang out for an hour… Turns out a lot can happen in a hour.” He closed his eyes, remembering, as Lily’s hair spilled across his shoulder like blood.
“It wasn't your fault,” She murmured, “How could have either of you known?” He didn't acknowledge her words, but stroked her hair gently and continued talking.
“Then they were there, in front of us, hoods like death, Lily, do you know what they call themselves? They call themselves death eaters, and they wear skeletal masks... and his mark… it was all over after they did it.” Lily shivered, unconsciously pressing closer to James. He turned to look at her and in his eyes she saw galaxies; galaxies of anguish and grief and fear.
“I was so scared, I have never been more scared in my life. And I was trying to protect her but there were so many of them… I think I might have taken one or two out but then they grabbed her from behind me…” He stopped again, and Lily could read in his eyes that he was blaming himself a million times over. He was looking at her, but though her and she had never felt so alone in her life. Her lips trembled from repressed tears and she noticed his did too.
“It was Malfoy, ultimately who did it. He held her, and I see her sacred, pale face everytime I close my eyes. They held me back while they tortured her, and but she resisted. I don't think she cried until the end, maybe she thought if she didn't cry they would let her go…” He let out a choked sob. Lily felt hot tears stinging her cheeks, and smoothed them away.
“They figured it out pretty quick. Then they killed her, and you know what her last words were? ‘James, HEL-” He couldn't talk through his tears. Lily cried too, for all that he had lost and all the loss that was to come. She cried for a boy who had lost a sister, she cried for a girl who was hunted. She cried because he cried, and it was so unreal for James to be crying that she knew she must be terrified. Eventually their crying subsided, and James finished his story.
“The aurors came, right after that. But it didn't matter, because they were too late. They were too late and they couldn't save her. I couldn't save her. That's why I have to protect you,” He said, softer. “Because if you died it would be like there’s no hope left in the world. Because that’s what you are Lily, you’re hope.” She gaped at him, feeling the weight of his emotion pressing on her ribcage like a stone.
You were at such a disadvantage when you first came to Hogwarts, and now you’re one of the best in our year. Everyone has always expected the least from you and you’ve proven that they should never have a reason to doubt you.” He sniffed, “and now war is on the brink and you have still been confident and courageous; I could never do that.”
A stray tear traced itself down his cheek, and Lily’s insides were burning and freezing at the same time. She felt so much she couldn't pick out a single individual feeling; all she knew was that she wanted to comfort him. Slowly, she reached out and brushed the tear from his cheek with her thumb. The silence pressed in on her, their breaths mingled as one. Her other hand drifted up to cup his jaw, and his eyes met her intensely. Lily’s breath caught. Looking into his eyes, she leaned forward, until their noses were almost touching. Her eyes drifted closed, and she kissed him.
It wasn't more than a gentle press of her lips, and she was just pulling back awkwardly when James cupped her head in his hands and pressed her mouth to his. It was hot, it was harsh and it was fueled by passion. He tasted of ash and cinnamon, and Lily was addicted. Their first kiss wasn't gentle; it was fiery and fractured and strangely comforting. James kissed her ever harder, and then it was all lips and tongue and teeth and Lily was lost.
The kiss lasted for moments, for seconds, years before James pulled back. Lily whimpered a bit and he chuckled in between heavy breaths. It seemed that the regular cheerful James was back; whatever her intention had been, the kiss had put him back to normal. He traced her cheekbones with his calloused thumbs and whispered in her ear, “See you on the train… Lily.”
Then James was walking away, with not so much as a playful smirk thrown back at her. He left her sitting on the floor of the bookstore, hand pressed to her still racing heart.