(23 : WITH THY BLACK MANTLE; TILL . . .
STRANGE LOVE, GROWN BOLD)

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      SOMEHOW, JAMES ALREADY KNEW ABOUT the Room of Requirement, which didn't really come as shock to Juliet considering he was part of the infamous Marauders. An odd tension had settled between the two that morning — both of them seemed to be balanced on the tightrope of not-quite-friendship. Neither of them wanted to be the one who slipped, plunging their relationship into the abyss beneath. There was no safety net. Whilst Juliet simply didn't want to risk falling to her death, James would take the leap of faith in an instant.

Flopping down onto one of the couches, James took in his surroundings. After much internal debate, Juliet settled on having a room with two couches, a fireplace and a shaggy rug. With both red and silver trimmings, it was equal parts Gryffindor and Slytherin. It felt oddly intimate, but it was like the two had never been further apart at the same time.

"So . . . " James wanted nothing more than to break the terse silence between them. "How did you find this place? I never realised anyone else knew about it."

"Because of you, actually." Juliet let out a breathy laugh at the irony. "I was studying for O.W.L.s when you enchanted all the pages in the library books blank. Merlin, I wanted to murder all four of you for that. Anyway, I may or may not have had a meltdown outside of old Barnabas out there because I couldn't find anywhere peaceful to study and then I found this place," she recalled, unsure where to put her hands before resting them on her lap. "I heard about the Come and Go Room and put two and two together when the door had disappeared the next day."

"This shouldn't be so awkward," blurted James. "Nothing needs to change because I like you."

But everything had changed, Juliet thought bitterly.

"It's easier said than done, James. You — you feel things differently to me. I can barely make friends without screwing that up, never mind fall in love in a few months," she ranted, annoyed at herself more than anything. "Not to mention that the rest of the world thinks I'm engaged to someone else, so I can't even get to know you outside of this room. And I do — need to get to know you, that is. Because right now I feel like we skipped a lot of steps and I need you to know what you're getting into if you get involved with me in any capacity."

"Bl—Regulus," he began carefully, "I take it that you don't have feelings for him?"

Juliet blew out her cheeks. "He is — was — a friend, that's it. But that's really not a factor for me right now. You may think you know me, but I know you don't."

"I feel like you're making this harder than it needs to be," he said, shifting so she could see the twinkle of mischief lighting his eyes. "We don't know each other, so let's start. Twenty questions. No holding back on my account, Fawley!"

For a moment, she wondered what it was like to see the world as James did. He made things sound so simple and maybe she needed simple.

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"Favourite ice cream flavour?"

     "That's it," Juliet teased, pretending to leave.  "You crossed a line, Potter."

     James rolled his eyes at her antics. "Just answer the question, Fawley."

     She thought about it for a second. "Chocolate and raspberry." The teenager pulled a pillow against her chest, leaned forward and asked, "Favourite hex?"

     "That's not —"

     "Everyone has one."

     James shook his head, then smirked. "Anteoculatia."

     Her face twisted up in confusion. "Of all hexes, why would you want to make antlers grow out of someone's head?

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Two weeks later, Juliet was in the Room of Requirement, poring over a textbook whilst James kept poking the girl to get her attention. Like clockwork, the two had started meeting up every night — the only exceptions being when James had a detention.

For the millionth time, James prodded the redhead and whined, "Julie —"

"If you call me Julie one more time, I'm going to shove this quill so far up your —"

"It's important," swore James.

Juliet shut her book and sighed. "What?"

"Snog, marry, avada," he began, a laugh already threatening to break his straight face, "Snape, Voldemort, Slughorn."

"Did your mother drop you on the head when you were a baby?" questioned Juliet in a tone of disbelief.

"Many times," he said solemnly. "Now answer the question."

With a snort, she replied, "I'd avada myself."

In retaliation, she proceeded to toss her textbook at him, which he caught. "Quidditch reflexes," he mused cockily.

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"Dumbledore is not gay."

"I'm telling you he is!" argued James. "Have you seen his wardrobe?"

"I bet five sickles you're not Gryffindor enough to ask him."

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By late April, Juliet was beginning to look forward to spending time with James. Whether he was stressed from Quidditch practices or she was struggling after a particularly hard day of classes, the two continued to meet up and talk through everything on their minds. The hours that were once soured by uncomfortable pauses and accidental touches were now filled with infectious laughter and whispered secrets.

     "I can't believe Sixth Year is almost over," commented James, lying back to rest his head on Juliet's lap. "Do you have any summer plans yet? Mum's been asking about you in her letters, the boys normally come over for a week or two and she's desperate to have another girl around."

At the display of concern and kindness, Juliet found herself caught off guard. "Your mum's been asking about me?"

"Well, I may have mentioned you first," he amended. "Sooo, summer plans?"

Flashing him an apologetic smile, Juliet almost felt bad when the boy glanced up with pleading brown eyes. "I wish I could," she confessed, thinking of how much fun she had with James those past few weeks — the mindless kind that anyone else would've scolded her for. "I don't know if I will be able to get away though. Regulus and I —"

"You're really going to marry him then?" James spoke in such a quiet voice that she could hardly believe it belonged to him.

"It's not like I have a choice, James," she responded, her face marred by sad eyes and a wobbly smile. "I may not like it, but it's a commitment I need to honour. Nothing you feel, nothing I do, nothing at all can change the fact I must marry him."

     Any previous lightheartedness vanished as James bolted upright. "Or maybe you've convinced yourself that you have no choice so you won't feel guilty," countered James. "You know you're on the wrong side, Juliet. It's — it's not too late to leave. Plenty of people have left pureblood families before."

     The thing about James Potter and his unfailing optimism was this — he didn't understand that hope alone couldn't demolish an entire belief system. No matter how passionate he was, it didn't change that the two of them would always circle back to the same argument about the war. And Juliet was no more willing to budge on her stance than she was before they were friends.

     "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand!" exclaimed James, more exasperated than angry.

The moment he raised his voice, Juliet was prepared to fight. "Those people who ran didn't have You-Know-Who playing matchmaker for them! Those people who ran didn't have You-Know-Who invading their minds! Those people who ran didn't have You-Know-Who watching their every move!"

James stilled. "You met Voldemort?"

     She flinched. "Don't say his —"

     "It doesn't make sense," claimed James. "Why would Voldemort want you to marry Sirius' brother?"

     Again, she flinched. "James —"

     "I won't be scared of him," the Gryffindor boldly stated. "It's a name. A name can't hurt you."

     Juliet was tired of how little stock James put in names. Names were powerful.

     "You should be scared." Her voice cracked. "You haven't met him. You have no clue of what it's like to be brought to your knees by something out of your wildest nightmares, something that can find out your biggest weakness with a single look," she recounted, sounding like she was drifting further away from reality with each word. "Don't you dare lecture me on how I have a choice when the so-called choice is between living or dying. If I even contemplate backing out of the wedding, I'll die. And maybe it's selfish to you and your hero complex, but I don't want to die at seventeen, James."

      "Then we'll go to Dumbledore!" James declared fervently — in a tone that clearly insinuated it should've been the obvious conclusion all along.

     "Dumbledore," Juliet said his name like it was poison, "doesn't care." The redhead huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I'm one green and silver tie in a sea of a thousand students. I'm not important. And I'm almost certain he already knows. He practically pushed me through the Floo to Lestrange Manor!"

    James leaped from the couch. "Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards of all time."

    "Dumbledore has done nothing for me when he's had every chance to," spat Juliet. "His own students are coerced into the Death Eater ranks every day and he watches, like it's highly entertaining to see children become murderers."

     "He can't help you if you won't ask!" exploded James. "You seem to have everyone figured out but yourself, Juliet. You refuse to trust people and act like you're untouchable when you're a bloody —" He caught himself, the words dying in his throat. "It's okay to rely on other people sometimes."

    Juliet narrowed her eyes. "I'm a what? A mess? A screw up? A bitch? Take your pick, I've heard it all before."

He closed his eyes. "No, I —"

"Listen, I get it, I'm marrying someone else and you think you're in love with me —"

"I'm not saying any of this as someone who fancies you, I'm saying this as your friend," James corrected firmly. "Let me help you."

     As stubborn blue eyes and stubborn brown eyes bored into each other, James debated if Juliet had been right the entire time and he didn't know her like he had thought. He had been so certain that she would eventually make the right decision, that she would realise she was in control of her own future. She had wholly shifted his perspective on so many things — why couldn't he manage the same with her? The more they argued, the bleaker her prospects looked.

     The realisation that he couldn't fix everything and everyone was not a welcome one for James.

     "Drop it, James," she hissed.

     "I can't," exhorted James. "You need to let yourself be happy. Your life right now is hardly a good one when you're doomed to dinner dates with a Dark Lord and a marriage you'll only ever tolerate."

     Like love, she was unsure on what happiness was meant to feel like. But she was fairly sure she didn't deserve it.

     "You should go," she finally whispered.

     For once, they were in agreement. James left, looking back over his shoulder and regretting ever starting a fight.

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     The next night, Juliet waited for three hours. James didn't come.

     With her books pressed to her chest, she exited the Room of Requirement and allowed her features to crumple for a brief moment. Then, she squared her shoulders, took three deep breaths and continued on her path, the light of the full moon shining brightly through the castle windows.

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A.N: This was a rollercoaster of a chapter and I ended up cutting so many cute moments that I'm sad — mooncalf mating dances? Juliet playing an arcade game? But this was really showing them developing on a more personal level. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, even if it ended on a sad note. I think Juliet is emotionally screwed up in a lot of ways and any changes need to come because she wants them to, not James.

Speaking of James, -obiwankenobi started a James fic too if anyone wants more of James Potter. I mean, who wouldn't want MORE? Which is also a pun on the title, hehe.

Question, what is your favourite non-canon HP ship? I know this is a little controversial but I like Fremione.