Chapter Text
Lily Evans leaned over the sink, her face inches from the mirror as she scrutinized every detail of her reflection. She meticulously applied her makeup—a ritual she usually reserved for special occasions. She carefully concealed the deep purple bags under her eyes and the freckles that dotted her cheeks and button nose, applied a delicate wing of eyeliner to frame her bright green eyes and curled her dark red hair into loose waves with her wand.
For the past few weeks, the weight of the seventh year had begun to crush her. She had spent so little time on self-care, consumed by the relentless demands of her studies and prefect duties. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, reminding her of a lesson from childhood: "No matter how you're feeling, present your best face to the world, and you'll start to feel better." It wasn't necessarily about makeup—Lily remembered crying before school, struggling to fit in until she learned about her magic. Her mum had told her that if she acted like she was okay and gave her best smile, she'd begin to feel better.
Lily decided to take this advice literally today. Applying her makeup was therapeutic, a rare indulgence amidst her hectic life. As she finished, she couldn't ignore the small, nagging part of her mind that knew she was trying to look nice for a particular reason. She pushed that thought aside, focusing instead on the soothing self-care routine. She hoped that by presenting her best face to the world, she might find a way to feel better inside.
Her chest felt heavy with longing and grief. She missed her mum deeply, her absence like an aching void. Lily had dreamt of her the past few nights, running in clouds, chasing after her... but never quite catching her. It was what had woken her up early, tears staining her cheeks as she had awoken. Lily was not one for returning to sleep easily; she had been in constant sleep deprivation since the start of term. Late nights studying and vivid dreams plagued her, often waking her in the early hours. Mary and Marlene were vaguely aware of her struggle, though Lily rarely went into detail. She had insisted she was fine, with a bright smile, and had brushed off their suggestions for sleeping draughts. The thought of discussing her dreams with Madam Pomfrey made her uneasy, and in a twisted way, in the nightmares, she could still see her mum- something she wasn't ready to give up yet. Lily didn't like making a fuss and was never great at expressing her feelings. It was much easier to act like everything was fine until she figured it out. Lily smiled at herself, almost manically, in the mirror before opening the bathroom door to the dormitory.
The room greeted her with a mix of perfume and lingering sleepiness. Even though two of the girls were now awake. The autumn morning light barely seeped through the curtains. The sun was just beginning to creep over the Scottish horizon.
Marlene lay still in bed, her eyes closed despite the commotion of Mary getting ready.
On the other hand, Mary was a whirlwind of activity, kneeling on the floor as she rummaged through her belongings. Her drawer was now half-empty, usually overflowing with clothes and whatever objects she couldn't fit in the big box under her bed. Clothes and various makeup items lay scattered in a chaotic pile around her, evidence of her frantic search for something she had clearly misplaced.
Lily bit her lip to stop herself from giggling as she took in the scene. Lily had already made her bed. Her drawers were always filled with neatly folded clothes placed in logical order: underwear on the left, school uniform in the top drawer, and muggle clothing in the bottom. All her makeup fit into her small bag under her arm.
"What are you looking for?" she asked gently.
"My hair gel. I can't find it anywhere," Mary replied, not pausing in her search as she continued tossing clothes over her shoulder.
"Well, where did you last have it? The last I saw, it was under your bed."
"I checked their first!" Mary exclaimed in frustration.
A groan came from Marlene's bed as she sat up, blinking sleepily. "Accio hair gel!" she muttered.
A blue tub of hair gel shot into Marlene's outstretched hand from under Mary's bed. She rolled her eyes and tossed it to Mary, who caught it with a grateful grin. The girls all burst into laughter. As she laughed, she felt the tightness in her chest ease a little. Lily couldn't help but marvel at how, despite all the books she had read and the good grades she earned, her first instinct was rarely to use magic for simple tasks. But Marlene, who had grown up surrounded by magic, clearly thought of it without a second thought—even half-asleep.
Marlene looked up and down at Lily from her bed before breaking into a toothy grin. "You look so hot, Lily!"
Lily couldn't help but grin back. "Thanks, Marls."
Mary, who was scrunching her inky-black afro with gel, also turned her head to look at Lily. Her big brown eyes widened. "Oh my god, you look so pretty!"
A blush crept up Lily's neck. "Do I look like I'm trying too hard?"
Marlene raised an eyebrow, eyeing Lily quizzically. "Why are you looking that nice?"
Mary shot Marlene a mock, stern glare. "Marlene, leave her alone. Lily, you always look beautiful. And no, you don't look like you're trying too hard. That whole concept is just some patriarchal rubbish—' trying too hard, not hard enough,' It's all meant to oppress women."
Lily felt a wave of appreciation for her best friend, nodding as her anxiety began to lift.
Now grinning, Marlene seemed to be enjoying herself. "Yes, Mary, while that's all very important, it doesn't answer my question… Why is Lily looking so darn fabulous for an average school day?"
Lily crossed her arms over her chest, trying to sound nonchalant. "I just… wanted to look nice." But her tone came out less convincing than she had hoped.
Slyly, Marlene asked, "So this has nothing to do with the fact that you came back three hours after your prefect duty ended last night... " Her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
Lily's arms were still crossed as she began picking at the skin of her thumb, dropping her gaze from her friends'. "James and I had a lot to discuss."
Mary turned her head away from Lily and back to the mirror, trying to hide her smile, whereas Marlene wore hers proudly. She enjoyed winding Lily up. "You've been talking to James a lot recently," she said.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, we work in pretty close proximity to each other. We do have an obligation to the school."
Falling back into bed, Marlene groaned, "Too early for big words." And then put the duvet over her head.
Mary laughed, then turned to Lily with a slight frown. "Wait, you came back three hours after your prefect duty and you're up pretty early? Did you sleep okay?"
"I slept fine," Lily lied, giving a quick smile. "I'm going down to breakfast. See you later."
Lily sat down to her usual breakfast: two slices of toast with strawberry jam and two coffees with milk and two sugars. Marlene would usually look disapprovingly at the amount of sugar. Lily would simply lick her lips and, with a mouthful of toast, say, "It's to give me energy!" And Lily Evans desperately needed that energy.
She was taking advanced Potions, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Arithmancy—at least one more class than anyone else in her house. While she was often teased for being a "swot," and laughed along with the jokes, her motivation was far more profound than a mere love of learning. It was about survival.
The rising hostility toward Muggle-borns had seeped into every corner of the wizarding world, spurred on by the growing influence of You-Know-Who. Even the Daily Prophet had recently published an article titled, "Are Muggle-borns Really as Smart as Pure-bloods?"—with the conclusion being a resounding no.
Lily had always been driven, but now she had something to prove. She was determined to show everyone that, as a Muggle-born, she wasn't just as smart as her pure-blood peers—she was smarter. She refused to let prejudice stand in the way of her success. She wanted to ensure every job opportunity would be open to her when she left Hogwarts.
Professor Slughorn had been an invaluable ally, advising her on potential career paths. He had even promised to introduce her to "everyone who is anybody" at his upcoming Christmas party, his grin wide with excitement at the prospect.
But as determined as she was, Lily couldn't ignore the weight of her responsibilities. In addition to her overwhelming workload, she was also navigating the duties of Head Girl. Four patrols a week, weekly meetings she and James had to lead and prepare for, and monthly check-ins with Dumbledore left her little time to breathe. James had been, surprisingly, a massive help with his head boy duties. Lily was initially sceptical, despite his growth in the sixth year, of his competency for the job. James had proven himself to be an excellent Head Boy. In fact, due to the position of both of them, he had also proven himself to be a great friend. Lily had grown to enjoy his company and humour and now found solace in a world of stress and fear.
Lily looked around the Great Hall, noticing she was much earlier than usual. The morning sun filtered softly through the tall windows, casting a golden glow over the mostly empty tables. Only a few students were scattered about, the usual bustle of breakfast absent. She had gotten up extra early, wanting to care more for her appearance, and hadn't waited for her friends. The quiet was rare, almost peaceful.
Taking advantage of the stillness, she pulled out her Potions textbook. Since no one was to distract her, she figured she'd read ahead for next week's class. Potions had always been one of her strengths and was one of the few subjects she still shared with Severus. They had once competed good-naturedly, but now every lesson felt like a battle. Severus had bested her during their first Potions class of the year, brewing a perfect Living Draught. The memory still stung, a bitter reminder of their severed friendship.
Lily had vowed not to let him outdo her again. She meticulously corrected the textbook recipes, adding her notes in the margins. Her close relationship with Professor Slughorn allowed her to practice in an empty classroom late at night, perfecting her brews in secret. Next week, they were brewing Amortentia, and she was particularly excited to craft the powerful love potion and finally discover what the distinct scent would be for her.
As she absentmindedly nibbled on her toast and sipped her second cup of coffee, the sound of the doors opening drew her attention. James Potter strode in, his face flushed and red. He wore an old, tight Quidditch practice shirt that clung to him, showing off his lean muscles. His hair was messier than usual, and his skin glistened with sweat from what had clearly been an early morning run.
Lily felt her heart skip a beat. Her breath caught in her throat.
James glanced around the hall, his round hazel eyes locking with hers briefly before giving her a big grin, still catching his breath. He slid into the seat opposite her, his presence oddly comforting, a testament to how far their friendship had grown over the past year. Even after their long conversation the night before, she found herself excited to talk to him again.
"Good morning, Lily," James said brightly, scanning her face with a hint of curiosity. His bushy eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You look… have you done something different?"
"Um… I'm wearing makeup," Lily muttered into her coffee cup, hoping it might somehow hide her embarrassment. "I don't usually… I just wanted a change."
James bit his bottom lip, clearly trying to suppress a smirk. "Lily Evans, are you embarrassed? I never thought I'd see the day."
Lily snorted with laughter, the easy banter immediately putting her at ease. "Embarrassed? "You're the one who's come to breakfast looking like a drowned rat," Lily teased, her tone light and playful, a far cry from the sharp barbs she used to throw his way.
James clutched his hand to his chest with mock drama. "And here I thought I looked ruggedly handsome."
Lily's eyes lingered a moment too long on his sharp jawline. "You look…" she hesitated. "Okay, I guess."
James grinned as he cut into his sausage and eggs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He caught her gaze, softening his tone as he added, "You look okay too, Lily. With the makeup… but you always do."
Lily couldn't suppress the grin that crept onto her face. She took a slight breath and replied conversationally, "Thank you, James. Am I okay to use the Heads' Lounge after the meeting tonight? I have a ton of homework to do." Despite their access to the Heads Lounge, neither of them stayed in it that much, both feeling the loneliness in the absence of their familiar comforts and friends.
James said slyly, "Lily, you know it belongs to both of us. You don't have to ask for permission." Rolling her eyes, Lily said, "Just being polite."
"Well," James said, leaning back slightly, "In the spirit of politeness, may I join you? I've got that Charms essay to finish, and Sirius keeps trying to distract me." Lily smirked, mimicking his earlier tone. "James, you know it belongs to both of us. You don't have to ask permission." James chortled, his laughter filling the space between them. "Touché, Evans." They continued chatting, the conversation flowing effortlessly as more students trickled into the Great Hall. James kept throwing in jokes, and Lily found herself genuinely enjoying his company more than ever before.
At some point, James glanced at his watch and groaned. "Shit, I lost track of time. I need to shower before class. I'll see you later, Lily."
"See you later," she replied, watching him dash out of the hall.
Her lessons were exhausting, despite. Potions and charms had been entirely theory-based. In Transfiguration, the only class where she could actually use her wand instead of furiously scribbling notes, they had been tasked with nonverbally conjuring a dining table and six chairs.
James had been the first to complete the task, and, of course, he had to show off. He conjured a beautiful oak table with plush red-cushioned chairs, even adding a centrepiece to earn extra flair. Professor McGonagall, rarely impressed, gave him one of her beaming smiles and awarded 10 points to Gryffindor.
The rest of the class wasn't doing as well. Sirius scowled at the elegant set of chairs he'd managed, paired with a shabby, wobbly table. Remus, never one to compete with James, had conjured a sensible but simple table and chairs. Mary's table was missing all its legs, and Marlene's face had turned bright red. She was swearing under her breath with the effort to conjure a table large enough to actually put a plate on.
Lily, on the other hand, had initially managed a sturdy but unimpressive table, and it infuriated her. I am just as good as James Potter, Lily thought, a familiar bitterness bubbling up inside her. It wasn't just about the spells or the grades—it was about proving to herself and to him that she could outmatch his effortless charm and skill. Every time he grinned that cocky grin, lounging in his chair like magic came as naturally to him as breathing, it fuelled something deeper inside her—a need to win, to stand toe-to-toe with him and know that she was better. She had to be. Despite the blossoming friendship she and James had, old habits die hard. Lily had spent hundreds of hours over the years to not just be excellent but to be able to beat James Potter in tests. She would never admit this to anyone, but it had driven her and pushed her; sheer determination, stubbornness, and a hatred of someone who approached everything with a lazy arrogance had motivated her to be the best she could possibly be. She watched him lounging smugly on one of his chairs, already reading ahead. He caught her eye and grinned.
"Show off," she mouthed at him.
James stuck his tongue out at Lily, who couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. Her amusement earned a stern glare from Professor McGonagall. When the professor's attention shifted, Lily caught James's eye again; he was wearing a mischievous grin, clearly delighted by her reaction.
Next to her, Mary let out a sigh of frustration as her table continued to stand legless, snapping Lily back to the present. She glanced at Mary's table and then offered a supportive suggestion. "Mary, try stepping back a bit while you're conjuring it. It'll help you see the whole table better and make sure the legs are even. Keep visualizing the complete table as you cast the spell in your mind."
Mary smiled gratefully and took Lily's advice to heart. With a determined focus, she closed her eyes. A pop sounded, and a table appeared in front of her—though still a bit rickety and chipped, it now had legs. Lily pulled Mary into a quick hug, exclaiming, "Well done!" Mary's pride was evident as she looked at her improved table, thanking Lily for her help.
Feeling pleased with her assistance, Lily's focus returned to her own project. She was determined to surpass James's display. With renewed intensity, she visualized an opulent mahogany table with gold-trimmed cushions and eight elegant chairs. Every detail was clear in her mind as she recited the incantation.
With a small pop, the magnificent table appeared before her. Mary's eyes widened in amazement. "Lily, that's incredible!" she exclaimed, her excitement reflecting in the admiring glances of their classmates.
Professor McGonagall approached, her gaze sweeping over Lily's table set. "Miss Evans, this has got to be the finest table set I have ever seen," she said, her eyes twinkling with approval as she beamed at Lily.
Feeling a surge of pride, Lily's gaze shifted to James. She offered him a smug grin, only to see him smirk as he sauntered over.
"Excellent work, Evans," he declared loudly, drawing a few chuckles from their classmates.
James leaned in close behind her, his voice dropping to a low murmur by her ear. "But I still did it first."
His breath was warm against her skin, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She let her lips brush against his ear and whispered smugly, "And I did it better."
James' eyes glinted with amusement. He tutted, then dropped his voice slightly deeper, dripping with condensation. "Aww. Evans, you are just so desperate to impress me."
The way he purred the word desperate in her ear made Lily's eyes flutter shut for just a second.
She had to take a deep breath before retorting calmly. "Please, Potter. If I wanted to impress you, I'd have conjured an entire Quidditch pitch, not just a table."
A loud snort of laughter escaped him, and he quickly covered his mouth, pretending to cough as Professor McGonagall shot him a sharp look. As soon as she turned her attention elsewhere, James leaned in again, his voice a playful whisper. "So, should I expect a Quidditch pitch after the meeting tonight?"
Lily rolled her eyes, though her heart skipped a beat. "In your dreams," she retorted, unable to suppress the corner of her lips tugging up.
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Lily. Her hand ached from writing; her brain was fried. Dinner was a quiet affair—she barely spoke, content to let the hum of conversation float around her like background noise. She was too tired to engage, too overwhelmed to think about anything other than the growing stack of work waiting for her after her meeting. She poured herself a coffee and ignored Mary's quizzical look. The coffee had kicked in in time for her prefect meeting, and she felt her mind sharpen. She needed to present herself well for the prefect meetings. She held herself in a way that presented confidence, despite every meeting causing her stomach to be filled with knots of anxiety, and gave a big smile to everyone before delving into the report from the previous week. Being Head Girl was a responsibility she took very seriously, and she wore the badge with honour; she would hate to do it a disservice.
Moreover, the pressure as one of the few muggle-born Head Girls in history left her feeling the need to ensure she excelled. She knew she was leading students who did not respect her right to be in the school, and she was determined to give them no reason to doubt her ability. She meticulously colour coded prefect schedules and took detailed notes every meeting. Over the summer, she had written a new guideline book for prefects to update the previous one that had not been updated in over a hundred years. She had, in the first week, learned every single first-year's name and made a point to say help to them all every time she saw them.
James took over for the second, detailing the action plan for the following week. He stood confidently before the group, his voice strong and commanding, reminding her why he was such an exceptional Quidditch captain. There was something about the ease with which he spoke, how his words flowed, that sent a tickling sensation through her, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
"Thank you all for listening, everyone. Any questions?" James asked, his voice clear and resonant.
The prefects shook their heads, packing away their parchments.
"Before you leave, I have a favour to ask," James added, his tone shifting slightly. The room fell silent, and Lily's curiosity piqued as she watched him.
"As many of you know, I'm the Gryffindor Quidditch captain alongside being Head Boy. Recently, I've had discussions with younger students, particularly Muggle-borns, and they've mentioned that the mandatory flying lessons in first year aren't enough to build their confidence on a broomstick. Most of us here enjoy Quidditch, whether we play or watch."
A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the room.
"It's a shame that some students don't get the same access to Quidditch. For me, it's one of life's great joys. So, for the past few weeks, I've worked with Madam Hooch to organize more flying lessons as an extracurricular activity alongside Quidditch training. This will be open to everyone under third year, but it's especially aimed at students who haven't had much broomstick practice at home."
James paused, scanning the room before continuing, "My request is simple: for those who are decent flyers, I've already spoken to the Hufflepuff captain, who has agreed to help. If you could spare just one hour every two weeks, we could really get this club off the ground."
Lily stared at him, stunned. James Potter, organizing extracurricular activities to help Muggle-born students learn to fly, was beyond what she had expected. She was used to the cocky James, the one who basked in his own glory. But this? This was... unexpected.
James finished his pitch, his gaze scanning the room for reactions. When his eyes briefly met Lily's, she felt an odd flutter in her stomach. She tried to ignore it, but the sensation lingered. When he spoke again, outlining the flying club idea, Lily felt her chest tighten. She hadn't expected this level of thoughtfulness from him—it was disarming. She crossed her arms tightly, hoping it would anchor the rush of emotion rising in her. But her gaze never left him.
Several prefects volunteered, though unsurprisingly, none from Slytherin. James beamed with every sign-up, and Lily couldn't help but grin at his excitement. His joy was infectious. The prefects filed out one by one, their laughter and chatter fading as the door swung shut. The air in the room felt warmer and quieter, the absence of noise heightening the silence between them. Lily could hear the faint crackle of the fireplace, the only sound filling the space, but all her attention was on James. He seemed different here, softer, less of the brash Quidditch captain or arrogant prankster and more of the boy who, deep down, wanted to make a difference. The dim lighting in the room cast a warm glow over his face, making his hazel eyes seem deeper and more intense. She felt her breath hitch, and her heart thudded in her chest.
"The flying club is such a wonderful idea, James," Lily said softly.
James shrugged modestly, but his smile was creeping across his face. "It's the least I could do, really."
Lily moved closer, only inches between them now, and looked into his hazel eyes earnestly. "I think it's one of the sweetest things I've ever heard. I wish I had that when I was in my first year."
James met her gaze for a few seconds, and Lily found herself lost in his eyes before his soft voice brought her back. "Really?" His tone was different—shy, almost. It was adorable.
Transfixed by his puppy-dog eyes and the uncertainty in his voice, Lily grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Really. James, you're a wonderful person."
James took a deep breath, blinking a few times. Her hand was still wrapped around his. "So, you don't think I'm an arrogant toe rag anymore?"
Lily smiled warmly. "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't called you that since well into sixth year. So, no, James, I don't think that anymore."
James closed his eyes for a moment as if savouring her words, then broke into wide that radiated across his face. "Thanks, Lily. That means more to me than I can say."
Lily grinned back, dropping his hand as she headed for the portrait of the head's office. "Don't you dare tell anyone I was nice to you Potter. It would destroy my reputation."
James let out a bark of laughter as he followed her, "Our little secret, Evans."
The Heads' Lounge was nothing short of magnificent. Nestled behind an elegant portrait, it was accessible only to the Head Boy and Head Girl. The space exuded warmth and comfort with an air of timeless elegance. Two imposing oak desks dominated the room, perfect for late-night study sessions or meetings. The dark, polished wood gleamed in the light of the fire that crackled warmly in the hearth. Above the fireplace, a grand portrait of a serene countryside scene shifted subtly throughout the day.
A plush grey sofa sat at the room's centre, its cushions soft enough to sink into after a long day of classes or patrolling the corridors. It faced the fire, making it the ideal spot for relaxing or curling up with a book. The thick, intricately woven rug beneath the sofa complemented the stone floor and the rich wooden accents.
To one side, a cosy nook held towering bookcases filled with ancient, magical volumes. Lily had barely seen some titles, written in languages she had never seen, while others were classics. A small rolling ladder added charm, and Lily's heart leapt at the thought of exploring the library.
However, the true highlight of the room for Lily and James was the private bedrooms. Each room featured a grand two-poster bed with velvet curtains, providing both elegance and comfort. A plush armchair sat by the bed, next to a reading table with a glowing enchanted lamp.
Despite its grandeur, Lily often felt lonely sleeping alone and missed her friends' comfort. She usually only stayed there if she was up late studying, and she assumed tonight would be no exception.
Lily and James worked near silence at their desks, occasionally breaking the stillness with a question or two. At one point, they took a break to see if Lily could toss a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean into James' open mouth. She was mostly unsuccessful, scattering beans all over his desk and the floor. Luckily for James, the one bean she did manage to land was grass-flavoured—far less offensive than some of the more questionable ones she'd aimed at him.
After two hours of focused work, they both finished their Charms essays. They even managed to start their Potions assignments before the words on Lily's page started to blur. James yawned around the same time and declared, "Right, it's 11. Stopping time."
Lily shook her head. "No, I want to finish this Potions essay."
James gave her a lopsided smile. "Lily, it's not due until next week. I can tell you're tired—you keep rubbing your eyes and squinting."
She gave her best reassuring smile to James. "Honestly, I am fine."
He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, I'm not buying that. Now, if you don't stop, I will start singing so badly you will be forced to stop."
Lily rolled her eyes but reluctantly set down her pen. Unlike most students, she preferred using her obnoxious Muggle pens with pompoms on the ends, partly to make a statement about her blood status and partly because she genuinely found them better to write with.
James moved to the plush grey sofa, and Lily joined him. She sat as far from him as possible, suddenly feeling awkward. James bit back a smile at the noticeable distance she'd left.
"Do I smell bad?" he asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
"Terrible," she replied, her tone playful. "I thought someone would have mentioned it by now." But she scooted closer, causing James to smirk. She avoided looking at him, the proximity between them suddenly too intense, with the quietness of the room and the crackling fire only amplifying it.
Lily, desperate to fill the silence, blurted out the first question that came to mind. "When did you first ride a broomstick?"
James frowned slightly, thinking back. "I got one for my eighth birthday, but I think I'd already been on my dad's old broom before that. I fell in love instantly. I flew right above the house, straight to the forest behind us. Dad had to get on his broom and chase after me." Lily giggled at the image of a tiny James zooming off on a broomstick, no doubt scaring the life out of his parents. The thought of him as a mischievous little boy, fearlessly soaring into the sky, made her very happy. "So what did you do to pass the time as a child?" James asked curiously.
Lily hesitated, her mind grappling with the weight of memories she was reluctant to share. She immediately thought of her summers with Severus. Now, some of the happiest memories of her childhood, where she had been utterly understood, were tarnished. They hurt to think about. She thought of her family—her sister Petunia, who had grown distant, and her father, whose exhaustion from long shifts was etched in the lines on his face. But her mother had always been the heart of their home. She remembered the warmth of their library visits, the comforting smell of apple crumble, and the joyful Christmases spent decorating cinnamon biscuits.
But her mother was gone, and the pain of her absence felt like a heavy, suffocating weight on Lily's chest. The realization hit her with a crushing intensity—she would never visit the library with her mother again, never taste her apple crumble, never feel her comforting embrace.
Her breath began to shake, and tears welled up in her eyes. The grief she had been holding at bay since the start of term surged forth, a torrent she had struggled to contain. Every letter she had written home was a reminder of her mother's absence, a gap she could never fill. She had never spoken about her mother to anyone at Hogwarts, unable to bear the vulnerability that would come with it.
In the safety of the room with James, the walls she had erected around her emotions crumbled. She felt her tears flowing freely now, her sobs coming in ragged bursts. Her heart ached with the loss, and her breaths were uneven as she began to hyperventilate, overwhelmed by the intensity of her grief.
James stared at her wide-eyed "Lily." He whispered, "What's wrong?"
She was unable to respond as the tears streamed down her face, and she struggled to catch her breath.
James gently took her hand, his voice steady and calming. "Lily, take some deep breaths." She followed his lead, trying to steady her breathing. "Do you want a hug?"
She nodded, still gasping for air, and James wrapped his arm around her, guiding her head onto his chest. The sound of his heartbeat, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest—it all felt soothing, and for the first time in days, Lily felt herself relax.
James stroked her hair softly, his touch gentle, and soon her tears slowed. She sniffled, "Sorry... You must think I'm mental."
"Never," James whispered back. "Everyone gets upset sometimes."
He handed her his handkerchief. She wiped her face, only to realize the black streaks of her makeup had stained the fabric.
He said gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Lily shook her head. "No. Honestly I am fine I think I am just tired." She gave him a watery smile.
James touched her cheek. "You don't have to be fine all the time."
Lily felt her heart twist at this. Yes, she did. She ignored his last statement and said eyes "James, will you tell me more stories of you on a broomstick? I like imagining it."
James gave her a small smile. "Okay." He began recounting funny tales, painting vivid pictures of his childhood adventures flying through the British countryside, his voice soft and soothing. As Lily listened, she kept her eyes closed, her mind filled with images of a young, carefree James zooming through the air with his bright smile, and for a moment, everything felt a little lighter.
Lily felt herself beginning to doze. She had been so tired for days. She was so stressed constantly and so full of grief. She could smell orange lingering on his jumper and a trace of broomstick polish on his hands as they softly stroked her hair. She finally felt okay. The warmth of James's arms and the gentle rhythm of his voice lulling her into sleep.
She stirred slightly, blinking in the dim light as she realized she was being carried up the stairs. Her vision was blurry with sleep, but she could just make out James's face above her, his expression soft and caring. He smiled down at her, eyes crinkling at the corners, as he carefully opened her bedroom door.
Without a word, he placed her gently in her bed. Lily watched him through heavy eyelids as he waved his wand, and to her surprise, her robes transformed into the softest, cosiest pyjamas she'd ever worn. The fabric felt like clouds against her skin.
"Goodnight, Lily," he whispered softly, the words wrapping around her like a final blanket of warmth before he quietly closed the door with a soft click.
As she drifted off, Lily's last coherent thought was of James's unexpected kindness, a gentle reminder that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than she had ever allowed herself to believe.
The next morning, Lily woke from a nightmare, her eyes darting to the clock on the dresser. It was 5:13 a.m. Surprisingly, she hadn't woken up before this in the night; it was the best night's sleep she'd had in weeks. She quietly got dressed in the spare uniform she kept in the dresser. She walked to the breakfast hall; it was completely empty. As she sipped her first-morning coffee, she decided to read ahead for today's charms lesson. She had finished the first chapter by the time she had drank her second cup of coffee of the day. She looked around the empty hall. Her breaking down in front of James had made her feel uneasy- it had been wonderful to be held and comforted as she had cried, and she felt a sense of release from it. But her grief and stress sat heavily on her chest; it was as if she could actually feel its weight. She had to take a big gulp of air to remind herself it wasn't physically there. The emptiness of the hall made her feel more isolated than usual. Surrounded by people, it was easier to maintain the façade of being okay, but in the eerie quiet, the loneliness felt more palpable. The vast, empty space seemed to amplify her feelings, making her solitude more apparent and harder to ignore. So she walked to the library.
She saw a clump of mousy brown hair over a large pile of books on the only occupied table.
"A bit early for studying, isn't it," Lily said, grinning.
Remus looked up, startled, and rolled his amber eyes at her. "It's a bit early for sarcasm, Lily. I prefer mine after breakfast."
Lily sat down opposite Remus and casually plucked a Defence Against the Dark Arts book from the top of his enormous pile. "I've already eaten, actually. So, why are you here at this ungodly hour?"
Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Full moon tomorrow. I've decided that since I'm pretty much useless the day of and the day after, I need to live, breathe, and eat schoolwork two days beforehand just to balance it out."
Lily looked at him gently. "You need to be kinder to yourself, Remus. You're doing incredibly well in every lesson. You should sleep; otherwise, you'll burn yourself out."
Remus snorted. "I get a day a month lying in a hospital bed. Plus, I have to take a break at night, or Sirius gets all whiny."
Lily laughed. "Who knew Sirius Black, the bachelor and rebel of Gryffindor Tower, was so needy?"
"I did," Remus said, grinning. "And I decided to date him regardless. But don't change the subject. My point is, you don't have a needy boyfriend or a medical condition that turns you into a terrifying monster who then has to spend a day in bed to recover. So why are you here at—" he checked the clock—"Merlin, six AM? Have you considered taking your own advice and sleeping?"
Lily laughed, conceding. "Fine, you win. Sleep is for the weak who don't get the grades we do. And don't call yourself a terrifying monster. Last week, I saw you apologize to a statue of a knight for bumping into it. I'm more scared of my own socks than I am of you."
Remus smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "There was an article in the Daily Prophet yesterday about werewolves. I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself... I'll accept that I'm mostly not a monster."
Lily reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "It's full of hateful garbage. You're wonderful, Remus. One of the best people I know. Don't let those assholes dehumanize you."
Remus squeezed her hand, a silent thank you in his tired eyes.
With that, the two fell into a comfortable silence, returning to their respective work. Lily spent the rest of the morning reading ahead, making carefully colour-coded notes for the next two weeks of *Defence Against the Dark Arts* lessons, content in the quiet companionship of one of her closest friends.
Lily and Remus had bonded almost instantly when they arrived at Hogwarts. Their shared Muggle backgrounds and mutual love of reading forged an unspoken connection, even though they ran in different social circles. They always looked out for each other, each quietly understanding the other's struggles. Remus, like Lily, was driven to do well academically, but his motivation went beyond grades—it was about proving to the world that he deserved basic rights and respect.
Lily had figured out Remus's secret by their third year. She noticed the pattern of his monthly absences and how drained he looked afterwards. She never felt the need to confront him or ask about it. Instead, she supported him in her own quiet way—making spare notes for the lessons he missed, always coincidentally timed with his "mysterious" sick days. It wasn't until their fifth year, when he finally opened up to her, that everything was laid bare.
Remus had broken down in the hospital wing, his eyes brimming with tears as he confessed the truth about his lycanthropy. Lily had simply nodded, her own eyes misting as she admitted she already knew. She didn't pity him; she didn't fear him. Instead, she pulled him into a tight hug, whispering that nothing between them would change. In that moment, Remus had choked out his gratitude, telling her through his tears that he didn't know what he would've done without her quiet support all those years.
In turn, Remus had been Lily's rock during one of the hardest moments of her life. When she returned to Hogwarts after her mother's funeral, it was Remus who brought her chocolate every day for two weeks, reminding her to eat. He offered comforting hugs when words failed and sat with her when she needed someone to just be there.
He had been her steady presence, her quiet strength, in the storm of grief. And now, as they worked together in the silent hall, Lily couldn't help but feel grateful for this friendship that had withstood so much, unspoken and unwavering.
Lily and Remus made their way to Charms class, joining the rest of the Gryffindors already waiting outside. James grinned at them, his eyes lingering a little too long on hers. Lily felt her cheeks flame, and she quickly looked away. You fell asleep on him! Her brain screamed in alarm. Feeling a surge of embarrassment, she abruptly parted from Remus and made a beeline for Mary and Marlene.
"Something weird happened with James last night," she whispered urgently as she reached them.
Mary opened her mouth to respond, but Professor Flitwick's voice interrupted, calling the class inside.
Today's lesson was on the Protean Charm, which allowed several objects to change simultaneously for a shared purpose. Each student was given a few coins and tasked with altering the number 1 on them to 25, the date for the day.
Normally, Lily would've been among the first to complete such a task, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She leaned toward Mary and Marlene, lowering her voice, unable to stop herself from whispering. "I cried in front of James last night. And he... hugged me. I just kind of... stayed there." She glanced around to make sure no one was listening before continuing. "Then I fell asleep on him. And—" her voice dropped even further, "he carried me to bed."
Marlene's eyes gleamed, and she grinned widely. "Oh my god, you fell asleep snuggled on James Potter?"
Mary, more composed, smiled gently. "That's really sweet, Lily."
Lily sighed, shaking her head. "It is, but... wasn't it weird? I don't just cry in front of people, and James… he carried me all the way to bed. That's so unlike me. And him."
Marlene and Mary exchanged knowing glances as though sharing some unspoken understanding. Marlene leaned in, her tone softer now. "But Lily... did it mean anything to you?"
Lily shook her head automatically, but as her gaze wandered back to James, he whispered something in Peter's ear, causing the smaller boy to flush red, struggling to suppress his laughter. As James gave a cocky smile, she felt her stomach flutter. Had it meant something?
Her reverie was interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who was practically bouncing with excitement as he praised Remus for being the first to complete the charm. Remus gave a small, shy smile at the praise and thanked the professor. Lily clapped loudly from across the classroom at him; he caught her eye and scrunched up his nose happily. Lily didn't mind losing to Remus today.
Ever the instigator, Sirius shouted, "You mastered that charm a year ago for the timer prank. Why not do something more impressive?"
Remus grinned at Sirius. "We don't all need to show off, Sirius."
"I thought you liked me showing off, Moony," Sirius replied with a mischievous smirk
Remus rolled his eyes, but a small smile was on his lips. "I never said that."
"You seemed to enjoy me showing off last night", Sirius added with a wink.
James let out a loud laugh, which quickly turned into a cough. Peter's face turned bright red. Remus bit his lip, turning his head away, clearly trying to hide his smile. Lily caught James's eye; he was bright red from trying not to laugh. She flashed him a grin to let him know she'd overheard.
James mouthed to her, "Every night." And mimed crying.
Lily had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. James's grin widened with satisfaction, but he quickly refocused when Sirius raised an eyebrow in his direction. Lily did the same, managing to be the second person to complete the spell.
In Transfiguration today, they have been studying cross-species Transfiguration, a particularly complex topic. Lily was engrossed in Professor McGonagall's lecture, diligently taking notes as usual. But out of the corner of her eye, she noticed James roll up his sleeves, the fabric settling just below his elbows. He was sitting in front of her, slightly to the right, and without meaning to, Lily found herself watching him.
His forearms were toned, the veins standing out slightly as he absentmindedly drummed his wand against his leg. Every now and then, he paused to jot something down, his brow furrowed in concentration. Despite herself, Lily's focus kept drifting back to him, her attention divided between McGonagall's words and the sight of James Potter—completely unaware of the effect he was having on her.
She shook her head, trying to focus on her notes, but her thoughts betrayed her. How had she gone from being indifferent to James to noticing every detail of his presence?
The rest of her lessons that day had been Herbology and Ancient Runes—both blissfully James Potter-free. Without his presence, there were no distractions, no wandering thoughts, just the steady rhythm of academic focus. In Herbology, she absorbed every detail of Professor Sprout's lecture on Venomous Tentacula, her notes crisp and precise. In Ancient Runes, the delicate intricacies of translation commanded her full attention. It felt like a relief to lose herself in the work, her mind fully engaged, and for a few hours, James didn't occupy her thoughts at all.
That night, Lily had gone straight to the library after lessons and stayed until closing. She had done all the work she needed to but wanted to get ahead for the following week. The Heads' Office was dimly lit when she arrived, the soft glow of candles casting shadows across the stone walls. She wrapped her robes tighter around herself, settling at her desk with the intent to finish her Herbology essay. Yet her heart wasn't in it. If she was being honest with herself, she'd hoped James would be here. After last night's prefects' meeting, she had an odd urge to thank him. Properly.
She sighed, the quiet of the room feeling heavier with his absence. Unrolling her parchment, she dipped her quill in ink, but her thoughts kept wandering—to his laugh and the way his eyes lingered on her sometimes like she was the only person in the room.
An hour passed before the portrait door creaked open, and James strolled in, his presence instantly lighting up the space. "Well, well, Sleeping Beauty I'm surprised you are up at this time." His grin was already teasing, that familiar mischief dancing in his eyes.
Lily groaned, rolling her eyes. "Don't start. I was just about to say how lovely you were last night, but you've ruined it."
James perched himself on the edge of her desk, lounging like he belonged there. His grin widened. "Lovely, was I?" he then added with a raised brow. "You know, you snore, right?"
She threw down her quill in mock indignation. "I do not!" With a quick flick of her hand, she lobbed a crumpled piece of parchment at him. "You're imagining things."
He caught it effortlessly, eyes gleaming. "And you drool. Tragic, really."
Lily crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "You must have some very vivid dreams about me, Potter, if you're imagining all that."
James chuckled, leaning closer. "Oh, you don't want to know the dreams I have about you."
Her pulse quickened slightly. "Did you come here just to annoy me, or is there a point to this visit?"
His eyes sparkled as he leaned in a little closer, their faces just inches apart now. "I came here to tell you that I'm going to take you flying", he said.
Lily blinked, genuinely surprised. Her usual composure faltered. "Flying?" she echoed, unsure. "James, that's really sweet... but you know I can't fly."
James gave an exaggerated eye-roll as if the answer was obvious. "Yeah, obviously. That's why I'm taking you."
Lily frowned slightly, still unsure. "What do you mean? Now?"
Without warning, James stood up and reached out, gently pulling her from her chair by the arm. His touch was warm, and she felt her pulse quicken as his fingers brushed against her skin. His gaze was light and playful, but there was a quiet confidence in the way he looked at her. "Fewer questions, Evans," he murmured, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of something more. "For once, just go with the flow."
Lily hesitated for just a moment, her heart doing that strange fluttering thing it always seemed to do around him lately. She looked up into his eyes, and suddenly, her nervousness started to melt away, replaced by a flicker of excitement. She smirked, lifting an eyebrow. "Trying to sweep me off my feet, Potter?"
James grinned that mischievous sparkle never leaving his eyes. "Well, I thought I'd give it a shot. Never know until you try."
Lily laughed softly, shaking her head. "Alright, but if you drop me, I'm hexing you."
"Deal," he said, his smile turning softer, almost affectionate.
James was seated on his broomstick, coaxing Lily to join him. "Come on, Evans, get on."
"What if I fall off?" she gushed nervously. Lily wasn't scared of many things, but flying was definitely one of them.
James rolled his eyes, exuding confidence. "I'm the best Quidditch player in the school—you'll be fine."
Lily snorted. "There's the cocky James Potter I know. I was wondering where he'd gone."
James raised an eyebrow. "Who's been in his place?"
Lily gulped, her nerves turning to something else entirely. "Someone very sweet. Someone who carries me to bed, starts flying clubs, and wants to take me on my first broomstick ride."
James gave her an intense look, his gaze lingering, like he was completely absorbed by her. Its weight made Lily feel slightly self-conscious. She shifted awkwardly and continued, trying to break the tension. "I mean, I know you've always been sweet, deep down. Remus told me how you visit him after every full moon, and I know Sirius lives with you now... but you used to be such a prat. It was hard to see it."
James broke his stare and let out a bark of laughter. "There's the Lily Evans I know, insulting me. Where's she been?"
Lily smirked. "I don't think that part will ever stop."
"Merlin, I hope it doesn't. Now, get on my broomstick," James sighed dramatically.
"Want me to ride it real good?" Lily replied without thinking. The moment the words left her mouth, her eyes widened in shock, and she felt her face flush. She cursed Marlene and Mary for putting the idea into her head.
James started laughing so hard that he nearly fell off the broom. "Evans, did you just make a dirty joke?"
Lily, regaining her composure, smirked and finally sat down behind him. Leaning in close, her lips near his ear, she whispered with a surge of adrenaline, "Please, Potter, that was nothing."
James turned his head slightly to look at her, their faces inches apart, his eyes wide with surprise and delight. His glasses framed the sparkle in his gaze, and his face had gone a little pink. Lily felt a smug satisfaction in seeing him flustered for once.
She wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling the firmness of his muscles under his shirt. Unable to stop herself, she exhaled deeply and bit her lip. She knew he was fit but feeling that was making her think unspeakable things. She quickly scolded herself as he turned around to her, grinning.
"You okay back there?"
She nodded. He turned around, and before Lily knew what was happening, he kicked off the broom, causing it to speed through the cool night air. She let out a high pitch scream and grabbed on to James for dear life as she felt herself zooming up and up. Despite the wind whistling in her ears she could hear James laughing.
After a few long minutes, the nauseating quickness of the broom started to steady, and he slowed it down to an almost holt.
James grabbed his wand out of his pocket and created a bubble around them, and the bitter wind ceased; it was now so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat.
James' voice dropped softer now, the teasing note gone as he said, "Look."
Lily, still clutching onto him for dear life, finally opened her eyes. Her breath caught again, but this time, it was in awe. Below them, the castle looked like something out of a dream—its golden stone walls bathed in moonlight, with turrets casting long, magical shadows. The vast, inky black sky stretched endlessly above them, peppered with a blanket of twinkling stars.
The sight was breathtaking, and the earlier terror she'd felt on the broom slowly dissolved into wonder. "Wow," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "It's beautiful."
James, still holding his wand, guided the broom gently through the air, keeping the bubble around them intact. His face was bathed in the soft glow of the stars, and for a moment, Lily was entranced by the serenity that had settled over him.
"See," he said quietly, "flying isn't so bad, is it?"
Lily finally loosened her grip on his torso, and her heart rate returned to normal. "I didn't say that", she muttered, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "You could've warned me before you took off like that."
James chuckled, his voice low and warm in the stillness. "Where's the fun in playing it safe?"
Lily rolled her eyes but leaned her head gently against his back, feeling an unexpected sense of safety. The vast openness of the sky, which had always terrified her, seemed less daunting with James beside her.
He flew them slowly over the grounds, approaching the Black Lake. From above, it looked mesmerizing, the shimmering waters reflecting the starlit sky, with dark green trees framing its edges.
"This is amazing, James," Lily whispered, her voice filled with awe.
James glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling more brilliantly than any star above them. "I know," he murmured. "I come up here sometimes, late at night, just to clear my head. This is what I want the kids in the flying club to experience. Don't get me wrong, I love Quidditch—it's my dream to play it professionally—but there's a different kind of magic in just flying for the sake of it."
Lily nodded, understanding what he meant as she glanced back at the serene view of the lake. The reflections of the stars on the water created a shimmering, magical tapestry, and the peacefulness of the moment filled her heart.
"I can see why you love it," she said softly, her voice blending with the quiet night. "It's like... the world disappears for a while."
James nodded, his gaze never wavering. That same intensity in his eyes always made Lily feel like she was the only person in the world. "Exactly. It's just you and the sky."
Lily felt a warmth spread inside her at his words. All the worries she carried—about the war, her studies, and the looming tensions in the wizarding world—seemed distant up here, as if the sky itself was shielding them from it all. Up here, it was just her and James, floating above everything, untouchable, even if just for a fleeting moment.
With a smile breaking the comfortable silence, she said, "You might convince me to actually like flying after all."
James chuckled a lighthearted sound that made her heart skip. "You? Lily Evans, broomstick enthusiast? That'll be the day."
She laughed with him but instinctively leaned closer to his back, feeling the warmth of his body seeping through his robes. It surprised her how much she had come to treasure his company. A year ago, she wouldn't have been caught dead on a broomstick with James Potter, yet here she was, on a late-night flight, savouring every second of it—not just the flight itself but the simple joy of being with him.
For a while, they flew in peaceful silence, letting the magic of the night carry them through the stars. When James eventually steered the broom back toward the Astronomy Tower, Lily felt an unexpected pang of regret. The thought of the night ending made her chest tighten. It had been... perfect.
As they descended, James looked over his shoulder, his voice quieter now. "Thanks for coming with me tonight, Lily."
She smiled, her heart fluttering. "Thanks for taking me."
The broom touched down softly, and as soon as Lily dismounted, she felt the cold of the night air again, missing the warmth of James in front of her. He helped her off the broom, his hand lingering in hers for just a second longer than necessary.
Lily realized at that moment that she didn't want him to let go. Standing so close to him, she could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes shimmering under the starlight. His long, dark eyelashes, the curve of his full red lips—it was all so captivating. The warmth of his presence made her heart race, and she felt an overwhelming urge to bridge the small distance between them.
James smiled warmly and said, "That's what friends are for."
The word "friends" hit Lily like a punch to the gut. Her stomach twisted, a feeling of disappointment settling heavily in her chest.
James carried on, oblivious to her internal turmoil. "I take Sirius out for a flight when he's having a rough day. I thought it would cheer you up too."
Lily's heart sank. He did this with everyone. She wasn't special. But why did it bother her so much? As though a switch had been flipped, the realization dawned on her. James Potter had finally become everything she had once wished for—kind, respectful, and friendly. He had stopped teasing, stopped trying to impress her, and simply started treating her as a friend. And now, faced with the reality of that friendship, Lily hated it.
Because in becoming her friend, James had also made her completely and utterly fall for him.
Lily forced a smile though nausea churned in her stomach. "Thanks, James. I'm lucky to have you as a friend."