and it was like slow motion

by downn_in_flames

Summary:

What do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn't show?

{prequel the first to and all the pieces fall}

Notes:

this is just a short little one-shot prequel to a novel i've got in the works - it's an alternate universe in which voldemort doesn't exist and james + lily don't get together during their seventh year. the novel picks up about three years after they've graduated hogwarts, and this one-shot takes place in september 1978.

if you can't tell by the title and summary alone, this fic is heavily based on the moment i knew by taylor swift, and the series as a whole pulls from the red, reputation, and lover albums. :P

She'd be lying if she said she didn't pick this dress out specifically for James.

He'd always liked her in yellow, always told her it made her look like sunshine. And she'd always flushed at the compliment, unsure if it was meant to be friendly or meant to be something more.

She's now almost positive that it was the latter.

The sweetheart neckline is also for his benefit; it shows off her cleavage just enough that she knows he won't be able to resist glancing at it every so often, and she'll obviously call him out on it, and he'll stammer out some sort of excuse, and she'll respond with something coy, and…

She's getting ahead of herself.

But she can't really help it - she hasn't seen the bloke since graduation, so it's natural that she'd be a little overeager about the thought of seeing him again.

She watches as her reflection runs her hands over the fabric, making sure every last inch of it is in place. Her red hair falls down her back in waves and her makeup is mostly natural - nothing like the sort of stuff she's gotten used to - but it's enough to make her look like she's positively glowing.

There's a knock on the door, effectively startling Lily from her trance of watching herself in the mirror.

She knows, objectively, that it's not James - James has never been great about getting anywhere on time, he was at least somewhat better while he was Head Boy, but that was only for official things. Anything else, and he was useless.

But even despite that logic, she feels hope rise in her chest anyways.

When she opens the door though, there's no tall, dark-haired boy behind it. Instead, there's Marlene and Dorcas.

"Hot damn," Marlene says, in lieu of a normal greeting. "You look like you're trying to stun someone."

Dorcas snorts at that. "Let me guess, he's about yea tall, plays professional Quidditch, perpetually has sex hair, name rhymes with Hotter?"

Lily flushes at the call-out.

Arguing with her would be entirely useless - Dorcas is completely aware of how much she'd come to fancy James in their last few months of Hogwarts.

"You're going to succeed, you know," Dorcas tells her. "Potter could barely keep his eyes off of you in Hogwarts robes, much less this. He'll be goddamn speechless."

"I'm honestly surprised this is the first time you're seeing him since graduation," Marlene adds. "Quidditch training can't be that time-consuming, can it? You two were practically attached at the hip by the last month of school."

Lily shrugs, trying her best to keep her face impassive. "I dunno, I guess it's just a big adjustment for him, getting used to the whole professional athlete life."

"Yeah, I suppose."

But the truth is… she doesn't fully get it either. She's written to him five or so times since graduation, asking about life and training and casually suggesting that maybe they grab dinner and catch up with each other, if he's got a free night any time soon? And yet, every time, her owl has returned empty-clawed. He's not responded to her once. She knows full well that he was always terrible at responding to his mum's letters at school - he got more than one half-hearted Howler about his lack of response - but… five times?

She supposes she can ask him about that when he gets here today. Or, at the very least, decide on a better form of communication where he'll actually remember to answer her.

Because despite all of the letters going unanswered, she knows he'll be here today. This is different from a short blurb of a letter - this is a party they'd all had planned since the first of September last year. A reunion party when the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross for the first time without any of them on it. They'd talked about it constantly all year.

She combs back through her memory of seventh year, through the many, many times he said he'd be here today - he wouldn't go back on that.

Her little flat is decorated perfectly for the occasion - red and gold balloons all over, just like their House colours, and lots of sweets available, just like the ones the trolley witch always comes around with. And the, of course, a fair bit of alcohol, which is decidedly not just like the Hogwarts Express, but seems to be a necessity at a post-graduation party.

Marlene and Dorcas sit on her couch, poking through the candy selection on the table in front of them, and Lily's just about to join them when there's another knock.

It's Remus this time, and he gives Lily a big hug as soon as she opens the door for him.

"It's so good to see you, Lil," he tells her.

She beams at him. "You too."

"I keep feeling like I've forgotten something," he laughs. "Shouldn't we be on a train right now?"

"Shit, I'm supposed to be running a prefect meeting right now."

"I'm sure they're all awfully lost right now, without either of their Heads," Remus replies.

"Oi, Lupin, stop talking about school and come pour yourself a drink!" Marlene yells from the other side of the flat, and Remus' attention is diverted.

"McKinnon, you haven't changed one bit."

"Well of course I haven't," she answers reasonably. "It's only been three months - how much can someone change in three months?"

"Hey Marley," Dorcas says to her, "remember that summer you left Hogwarts straight as an arrow and came back loudly announcing to everyone you knew that you were 'gay as hell'? Because I'd say that's a pretty big change for three months."

"I was never 'straight as an arrow'," Marlene retorts. "I was just heavily closeted - there's a difference."

Dorcas shrugs, then throws her arm around her girlfriend. "Fair enough."

"Evans!" Through her still-open front door she hears the all-too-familiar voice of Sirius Black yelling her name - she briefly entertains the hope that James will be walking up to her doorstep with him, but when she turns her head to see him, it's just the one.

"Black," she replies with a grin - even though she's disappointed that James isn't here yet, she's undeniably excited to see Sirius as well.

He spins her around in a tight hug as soon as he crosses the threshold into her flat - honestly, she can't believe a full three months have passed since she's seen him. He gives damn good hugs.

"I've got to say," he says, appraising her after he sets her back down, "you pull off Muggle clothes infinitely better than wizarding ones."

She's got a whole closet worth of elaborate and increasingly risqué wizarding dress robes that would likely beg to differ, but Sirius can't know about those (because he'd surely ask how she's managed to get her hands on all of those, and that's a question she absolutely cannot answer for him), so she just laughs and agrees with him.

"I never did much enjoy Hogwarts robes."

"Neither did I, Evans," he replies with a grin. "Neither did I."

Then he turns his attention to Remus, who's still standing on Lily's other side. "Moony, long time no see," he says, and there's a slightly devious look in his eyes that makes Remus flush.

Lily makes a mental note to figure out what that's all about eventually.

Mary arrives a few minutes later, then Peter after that. Everyone pours themselves drinks and makes themselves comfortable all across Lily's living room, stealing chairs from her kitchen or sitting on the floor as they all trade stories and memories.

"Remember our first train ride to Hogwarts, Evans?" Sirius asks her. "Remember what little shits James and I were?"

Lily thinks back to that day, back to that exchange in the train compartment where she'd so passionately defended Snape to an exceptionally obnoxious James and Sirius. It's a strange memory to think back on, purely because of how tainted it's become. The boy she'd protected turned out to be a closeted blood purist who called her a nasty slur and condoned attacks on her friends, and the boys she'd been yelling at grew up to be the good ones, and the ones she's actually friends with now.

"We were all little shits," she clarifies.

"Speaking of Prongs," Peter chimes in, "where is he?"

Lily's almost glad someone else brought up James' absence - she's had her eyes on the door almost constantly for the past fifteen minutes or so, just waiting for him to walk in. She hopes no one has noticed that, but knowing her friends, at least one of them has.

Sirius shrugs. "No fucking clue. He's usually late, but he's not usually this late. Not to mention that it's, well… "

"It's Lily's party, and James's ability to be on time only exists specifically for her?" Marlene finishes, none-too-subtly.

"Yes, exactly that."

Lily tries to act more nonchalant than she feels. She's not going to acknowledge the sinking feeling that's started in her gut, not going to give it any power over her while she's supposed to be enjoying time with her friends. He's just running later than usual, that's all.

"It's fine," she tells them. "He'll get here when he gets here."

She's greeted with more than one slightly suspicious look, like they don't believe she's as casual about his tardiness as she seems, and she immediately feels the need to turn the attention away from herself. They're all acting like she's made of glass or something, and she doesn't like that one bit.

"How has James been lately?" Mary asks. "I haven't heard from him once since graduation."

She's looking at Lily as she poses the question, like she's expecting Lily to have seen him more recently. Lily doesn't want to admit that she hasn't heard anything from him either, if only because acknowledging that means coming to terms with the fact that maybe she's no different from Mary in his eyes.

But maybe no one's heard from him. Maybe he's just stopped talking to Sirius and Remus and Peter as well and it's just an everyone thing as he adjusts to his new training schedule.

"He's doing pretty good," Peter answers, not picking up on the fact that Mary's question was aimed at Lily and not him. "He spends most of his time training or with his teammates though - I've only seen him like four times all summer."

Four times. Peter - and presumably Remus and Sirius too - have seen James four times since graduation. She hasn't seen him once - hell, she hasn't even gotten a single letter. And clearly, yeah, he is busy, but he's not too busy to see his other friends.

She'd really thought, after graduation and that last night before they left Hogwarts, that they were in a good place. That his feelings for her were the same as hers for him - he'd certainly made it seem that way, at the very least. After all of that, why would he decide to stop talking to her - and just her?

"He's too good for us now," Sirius says, and the smirk on his face says that he's being sarcastic, but his words hit Lily with full force.

She hadn't really let herself consider that option before, the idea that James would somehow move on - move past - his school friends, ditching them entirely for a new life. He'd never made any sort of indication that he was planning on doing that at school, had never said anything that would make her believe he thought himself above the rest of them after signing his Quidditch contract.

She doesn't want to believe he'd be that person.

But time is ticking, and he's still not here.

 

---

 

The hours pass by, and Lily's trying her best to enjoy herself, sipping at a butterbeer and laughing along with everyone, but really, she just wants to be alone.

She looks around the room - everyone's talking and laughing, but it's still obvious that there's one thing missing. That there's one person missing.

And in that moment, the truth finally sinks in.

Despite his promises and the fact that all of his other friends are here today, James isn't coming today. Something has changed between the two of them, a total about-face from their last interactions, and he's decided to cut her out as a result.

Sirius's earlier sarcasm was a thin mask of the truth - James is probably too caught up in his new glamorous professional Quidditch lifestyle to give a damn about some girl from his Hogwarts days anymore.

And as usual, she's put her faith in someone who's decided that the best option is to crush it under their heel.

She feels a tightness growing in her chest, and suddenly, the desire to be alone becomes a need. "I'm going to the loo," she says abruptly, interrupting whatever conversation that she was only halfway paying attention to her, setting her bottle down on the table in front of her and leaving the room as fast as she can without acting suspicious.

She goes down the hallway and closes the door behind her.

There, in the bathroom, she tries not to fall apart, fingers gripping at the edge of the bathroom sink tightly. She stares at them, watching her knuckles go white.

"He said he'd be here," she says hopelessly, to no one but herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

She knows it's stupid, because he said he'd be here months ago, and things change, and he's incredibly busy with Pride of Portree. But he'd told her, with her hands in his and a look of utmost sincerity in his eyes, that he wouldn't miss this party for the world.

And like a fool, she'd believed him.

She looks back up at the mirror, at the single tear running down her cheek, and her jaw sets. She should've known better than to let herself care this deeply about someone again. She shouldn't have given James this power over her, the power to cut her this deeply over something as little as blowing off a party.

Fuck. She swore, after Snape, that she wasn't going to give anyone else the potential to break her like that. She wasn't going to let herself fall for anyone's stupid tricks or lies anymore.

And… maybe that's the problem. Nothing about James has ever felt like a trick, or a lie, or like he's ever anything but what he appears to be. That's one of the things she likes best about him, the fact that he's unapologetically himself and doesn't waver from that.

The idea that he's changed so much in three short months - from the boy who'd become one of her best friends and trusted her with all his biggest secrets, to someone who wants nothing to do with her - feels like such a sudden and unexpected shift. Especially when, as Marlene had pointed out just a few hours ago, it's not like the rest of them have changed much since school ended.

But it seems that's exactly what happened - she really can't think of any other plausible explanation for all of this. And really, she should've realised it a while ago.

She curses herself, again, because why the fuck did she not see this coming? Why did it take three months, multiple unresponded letters, and a no-show at a party for her to realise James doesn't really care about her the way she'd let herself believe he did? Why did she let herself get blinded by affection and feelings and rose-coloured glasses, only to get herself hurt again?

Petunia, Severus, James. She's been through this shit three times now.

And this time, she's done with it - she's had enough. She's done letting people in, letting them have such a profound piece of her heart, because clearly even the people she thinks are somehow different and better turn out to be exactly the same as everyone before.

She wipes the tears from her cheeks, determined not to let herself continue to cry over someone who doesn't deserve it.

There's a soft knock at the door and Remus' voice comes through from the other side. "Lily?"

"Yes?" She wills her voice not to crack - and it doesn't. If nothing else, her Order work so far has really done wonders for her acting abilities.

"We just - I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Of course. Despite her best acting, James's close friends have always had a bit of a sense on when something's really wrong - her abrupt departure from the party seems to be no exception. She's willing to bet more than one of them followed her down the hall.

She gets confirmation of that when she opens the door and is face-to-face with both Remus and Sirius. "I'm brilliant," she tells them, hoping like hell that it's not too obvious that she was crying just a few minutes ago.

"Evans, I've got no clue why he didn't show today," Sirius says. "I mean, we've definitely talked about it recently, so it's not like he just forgot about it."

Lily doesn't miss the subtle elbow from Remus at that, a small jab of you're not helping.

"It's fine," she lies. Even though it's not.

But what else is she supposed to say? That the one person whose presence meant the most to her is the one who didn't show up, and that it's finally shown her just how much he doesn't care about her anymore?

"No, it's not," Sirius argues back. "It's real shitty of him to just not show up to something we've all been planning for a year with no explanation to you whatsoever."

And secretly, she agrees with him. But she also refuses to let him know that she cares that much.

"It really is," she tells them, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "He's got his Quidditch career to pay attention to now, and like you said, he's too good for us - too good for me - now. That's fine, I really don't care."

She'll keep saying that out loud until she starts to mean it.

If not letting herself care about anyone is the way she stops getting betrayed, than so be it. She'll be a heartless ice queen if that's what it takes.

Both Remus and Sirius just look at her, slightly aghast, and Lily thinks to herself that, at the very least, a shocked look is better than a pitying one.

"Lily - " Remus starts.

"Let's get back to the party, yeah?" she says, and the nonchalance in her voice feels less faked this time. "I want to watch Peter get his eyebrows get burned off in Exploding Snap for the thousandth time."

 

---

 

The next morning, after everyone's left (because of course everyone else ended up getting too plastered to Apparate home and ended up crashing on the floor of her tiny one-bedroom flat), she goes about the process of cleaning up the apartment from the mess they'd made the night before. She's long since abandoned the yellow party dress in favour of an oversized T-shirt and pajama shorts, and she waves her wand and watches as the empty bottles and cups pile themselves in the bin, the balloons deflate and follow suit, and all her cushions right themselves again.

Then she sets down her wand, because she wants to do this next part by hand.

When she'd moved into this flat, she'd covered the walls of her living room with pictures of her Hogwarts years. The room is filled with images of her laughing and smiling with friends - and somehow, James is a nearly constant fixture in all of them.

And so, one by one, she removes every single one of them from her walls. Every single photograph with his stupid face gets put into a pile of memories she no longer wants to be confronted with every day.

But as much as she just wants to get rid of them permanently, she can't quite convince herself to part with them just yet. So she summons a small black storage box from her closet, piling them all inside and closing the lid neatly on top. Locked up in a box, just like she's locking them all away in her mind.

She carries the box into her bedroom, shoving it as far under her bed as she can manage. It can stay there and collect dust for… Merlin knows how long. And maybe one day, when she truly and completely stops giving a fuck about James Potter, she'll find it and laugh and shove it into the bin for real this time.

The rest of her Sunday is spent deep-cleaning the rest of her flat, writing an update to Dumbledore, and perusing the Sunday edition of the Prophet for anything interesting. The sun is low in the sky when an owl comes knocking at her window, bearing a tiny, rolled-up scroll.

She opens the window for just long enough to take the letter from the owl, before sending it on its way. She unfurls the note, revealing one messily-written line in black ink.

I'm sorry I didn't make it yesterday. -J

She looks at the letter - if it can even be called that, it's barely even a sentence - and answers it aloud with words she'll never send.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too."

Notes:

find me on tumblr!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of and when you get me alone it's so simple