Art Scamander strode into the common room, and made for the stairs. Before he could reach them, though, he froze, noticing them hovering above. Flashing a winning smile, he gave Lily a little wave.

"Lily darling, I just heard you were sick!"

"Save it, Scamander."

Remus looked at Lily in shock: he had never heard her voice so cold. Art's mouth opened and closed silently, in surprise.

"My darling, what's the matter?"

Remus moved to stand beside Lily, feeling the girl might want some support. Or rather, James would kill him if hedidn't. Although Art couldn't see it, Lily's legs were trembling.

"I'm not your darling Scamander," she told him icily, and gestured to the coffee table behind him with a careless wave of her hand. Much to Remus' surprise, the offensive scrapbook still lay there, as if on display to the entire world. Or, Remus concluded, more likely as if it had been waiting for Scummy. Curiously, Art turned around and looked at it, his eyes widening as he picked it up and flicked through the first few pages. With a snap, he shut the book, although Remus could not miss the fact that it remained in his arms. The knuckles that gripped the scrapbook's spine were white with rage.

"Lies!"

Lily smirked, her green eyes glittering contemptuously, her voice without an inch of mercy. "Get out," she told him. "Get out, and take that thing with you. We're over."

Art looked like he wanted to argue the point further, but Lily pushed herself up to standing and turned away from the railing, disappearing back into her room.

Remus raised his eyebrows at the young man, regarding him with a look of disgust.

"You heard her," he told him quietly, his voice carrying just the slightest trace of a threat.

Art scowled, clutching the scrapbook angrily, and left, slamming the Carved Witch's door shut. She cried out in surprise.

"Are you ok?" Remus asked softly, leaning in the doorway.

Lily was perched on the edge of her bed, looking at her hands. Looking up at him, she shrugged, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

"I'll survive," she croaked. "I just… Remus, what even possessed him to think he'd get away with it?"

Remus shrugged, slowly moving across the room to sit beside her. "I don't know," he replied honestly, before a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. "But if it makes you feel any better, Sirius sent each and every one of those girls a lovely letter yesterday. Art's not quite so loved as he thought."

Lily gave Remus a watery smile. "Remind me to thank him."

"Thank who?"

They both looked up to find James leaning against the doorway casually, his arms crossed loosely across his chest. Pushing his glasses up his nose with an air of casual elegance, he regarded them curiously. His eyes held many questions.

Remus kissed Lily's cheek, in a brotherly gesture of solidarity, and stood up to leave.

As he passed through the doorway, Remus paused and muttered something in James' ear.

James frowned, a single wrinkle creasing his forehead. He could have sworn Remus had just told him to "be gentle".

James shut the door, and walked slowly over to sit beside Lily on the bed, looking scarily determined. Lily avoided his hazel gaze, unsure of what to say.

Shouldn't you be in class?

Sorry I hurt you.

You're really not as bad as I thought.

Thanks for looking after me last night.

Thanks for looking out for me, like always.

I hear I owe you a drink.

Before the baffled girl had an opportunity to say any of the myriad of questions that were tumbling through her mind, James spoke. His voice was calm, and assured, and held no sign of the disappointment and hurt he'd clearly felt earlier that morning.

"Lily, I am going to tell you a few things, and you can listen or not… but I need to say them, and I need for you not to interrupt."

Lily nodded mutely. James watched her hopelessly, wanting to take her hand and reassure her that he was not in fact mad at her. Although, he conceded, it was probably easier to say if he didn't have to meet her eyes. James drew a deep breath.

"Lily Evans, I think I've fancied you for as long as I can remember ever having feelings for a girl. You're beautiful, and kind, and caring, and you're strong, maybe one of the strongest witches I know. But sometimes you just reject what you see right in front of you. I've been waiting for you to see me for forever, to see that I'm notjust attracted to you, and you're so bloody blind that I've had enough of waiting around for you to notice me. I like you, Lily. A whole lot more than you can probably understand. When I showed you my animagus, I suppose you might have noticed that I fancy you… but somehow I think you've forgotten, and I need, I want to remind you again, Lily. Because I'm tired of being invisible."

James took another breath, feeling a lovely sense of relief wash over him. This was enough. He could live with himself now, now that he had told her once and for all. It was enough.

Except - the problem seemed to be that Lily hadn't been listening, as far as James could work out. She hadn't reacted at all. Not even an inch.

Maybe she's still hung over, or sad about Art? Maybe I told her too soon? Maybe she needs more time?

James stood to go, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"James?"

She had called him back; better, she had called him James.

He was by her side in an instant, kneeling beside her and looking up into her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and a tear slipped down her cheek. It was a very beautiful tear, a beaded crystal of hope. "I broke up with him."

James nodded. "Good."

But he didn't sound pleased at all. He sounded… Lily couldn't place it, but she prayed to Merlin that it wasn't disinterest that she heard in his tone. They looked at each other in silence, unsure as to how to proceed. Finally, James stood to go once more.

"I'll let you rest now. I have to get to Quidditch practice anyway."

Lily shook her head. "No… I don't need to rest anymore. I just… Thank you, for being serious about me, even if I didn't notice."

James nodded shortly, but didn't reply any further. Instead, he turned again and left the room.

"Go well, mate?" Sirius asked quietly as the rest of the team took to the air.

The breeze whistled gently around the stands of the Quidditch pitch, the tall spectator towers silhouetted in the fading dusk. James shrugged.

"She didn't really react," he confessed hopelessly, helping Sirius to release the first bludger. "Nothing. I'd expectedsomething… She broke it off with him though," James concluded, as if this was a concession he was satisfied with.

Sirius grinned. "I know. Moony was there. Reckons she scared the crap out of both of them. Didn't expect anything different, did you?"

James shrugged again. "No, I suppose not."

Sirius nodded efficiently. "Good, then. Now up you go Potter, what do you think this is, a gossip session?"

Rolling his eyes, James tucked the Quaffle under his arm and mounted his Nimbus 1000.

The Gryffindor team trooped, fatigued, into the Great Hall, just in time for dinner. Sirius, as usual, had worked them to the point of near exhaustion and now, only Sirius looked cheerful. His furtive glances toward the Ravenclaw table immediately clued James in.

"Not another prank?" he berated his friend, tiredly, wondering absently where Sirius found the time to organize such mischief these days.

Peter rolled his eyes and selected a bread roll. "Prongs, you won't be disappointed," he promised sincerely.

And indeed, James found that he wasn't.

Near the end of dinner, a house-elf arrived in the middle of the Great Hall with a quiet crack! Several students happened to drop their pumpkin juices in surprise.

The house elf was carrying a large bunch of flowers.

"If you please, sirs and ladies, I have a message for a Mr. Scamander," the elf announced in his squeaky voice.

James raised his eyebrows. "You dragged Tibby into this?"

Sirius and Peter shrugged. "He offered," Sirius murmured with a broad smile. "You see, James, while you spent all day agonizing over a certain Head Girl, we were productive."

Scamander stood and approached the elf, looking rather surprised, and exceptionally pleased.

"I'm Mr. Scamander," he told the elf, rousing more than a few sniggers.

The elf, Tibby, bowed and presented Scummy with the flowers. They were large and yellow, and while some were in bloom, others were still waiting to open.

"To Mr. Scamander," the elf recited in his high-pitched voice. "I saw these flowers and thought of you. Love always, Snuffles."

Art raised his eyebrows, looking creepily chuffed. "Thank you," he said formally.

James was watching the flowers. One quivered…

"Padfoot," he said slowly. "Are those…?"

The next moment, however, James did not have time to finish his query, for his theory was suddenly and dramatically confirmed.

The flower bud popped, and a thick, yellow liquid began to ooze down Scummy's hands. Yelling in shock, he dropped the bouquet: but it was too late, as the pus like substance began to bubble and blister.

"Bubotuber flowers," Sirius murmured, satisfied, as Scummy raced out of the hall to the unpleasant laughter from the Slytherin's table. "I took one look at those oozing pustules the other day in Herbology and thought of him."

James frowned. "That was actually pretty cruel, Padfoot," he berated his friend.

Sirius shrugged, his eyes twinkling. Secretly, Sirius knew he'd probably gone too far, but on the other hand, it wasScummy. Where Scummy was involved, Sirius was hard pressed to find even an inch of sympathy.

"Prongs, normally I'd care. At the moment though, dessert has arrived and I have a strange craving for custard…"

After James had left, Lily had attempted to stand again. Much to her dismay, she had discovered a strange dizziness that had not been present during her confrontation with Art. Probably too much adrenaline to notice, Lily concluded with a sigh, climbing back into bed and closing her eyes.

Lily wasn't sure how many hours she'd been asleep. All she knew was that when she awoke the next, it wasn't gradual. Rather, it was a jolt of consciousness. Someone was tapping softly at her door.

Lily, from her mound of pillows and bedclothes, peeled open an eye to assess the intruder who had woken her so rudely. Messy black hair, glasses, nice face – wait, nice face?

James was poking his head around the door, and smiled when he saw she was awake.

"Hello sleepy," he said, entering the room. "How are you feeling?"

Lily sat up, waiting for the spinning to start again, but it didn't, and she smiled. "Better," she told him. "Hungry."

He laughed. "Lucky I saved you some blueberry Danish from dinner, then." He told her.

Lily's eyes lit up at the mention of her favourite dessert.

"You think of everything," she sighed happily.

James' face was carefully blank as he set the tray down on the bed and turned to go.

"Wait!"

He stopped, face unreadable.

"Would you like to join me, Mr. Potter?"

Producing a spoon from his pocket, a seamless movement that made her giggle, James smiled.

"That would be lovely, Miss Evans."

The Danish was well and truly demolished several hours later, as James and Lily sat on her bed and James filled Lily in on what she had missed that day.

"Everyone was worried," he told her quietly. "I don't think you've taken a sick day in your life."

"Probably not, and now I've taken two in a row," Lily admitted ruefully. She bit her lip, deep in thought. "James?" she asked.

"Hmmm?"

"I've been doing some thinking," Lily confessed. "I've been in bed all day… thinking. And I think…" She bit her lip.What if he said no?

Nothing left to lose, another voice countered practically. Lily swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry. James was watching her patiently, waiting for her to continue. Mustering up her courage, she smiled weakly at him.

"I think… I'd like to… to give us a try. If you still want to."