Dedication goes to harry_james_potter11 even if they don't read this book, they have been the genuinely the sweetest to me recently on my other books and I appreciate it so much!
Thank you! ♥️♥️♥️

There it was again. That light. The suggestion of something else except darkness. There, in the light, was the idea that life might be somewhere close.

Voices were faint, but it was the first time they'd been there. They were gone soon after, but they were there, and they left behind one presence.

The light stayed around.

(22nd March 1978)

The first thing she could feel was a hand wrapped around hers. It was small and warm, the skin soft and comforting.

The sky was dark but there was a candle in the room, burning gently on a table next to the bed. Her eyes fluttered open and...

"Why are there so many flowers?"
Her voice didn't sound right, it was brittle, low, and she hasn't heard it in such a long time.

"Mary?"

The person holding her hand had a Dublin accent, it was gentle, reassuring, just like the softness of her skin.
"Trudy," Mary breathed.

"You're awake..."

Mary closed her eyes for a second before looking back up and attempting to focus her sight. Trudy was smiling at her with tears running freely down her cheeks. For someone so determined to look after her friends, Mary was glad it was Trudy that was here.

"I can't believe..."

Mary squeezed her hand gently and they locked eyes. There was something beautiful in this moment; their friendship solidifying in iron.

Trudy squeezed her hand back, saying nothing and allowing this moment to surround them, like a warm hug.

"I should send a message to Esme-Leigh, for you, she wanted me to—"

"Leave it."

"What?"

Mary could feel her brain losing focus, sleep pulled her down, her exhaustion weighing more than she'd ever had to carry.
"Leave it until I wake up properly. Is... is she okay?"

Trudy made a face that was only just recognisable as a frown beyond Mary's groggy eyes.
"She's been a bit mad lately, only just beginning to pull through."

"Then you need to wait."
Mary's eyelids became too heavy to hold and she allowed them to slide shut, still talking to Trudy but her responses were delayed. Sleep was calling back.

"Alright, I'll stay with you while you sleep it off. It's still only the middle of the night."

Mary smiled and nodded, "you need some sleep too, come in here with me, I don't mind," Mary sighed under the feeling of exhaustion as she opened the blankets of her bed to Trudy in offering, "it must be cold out there."

Trudy stroked Mary's golden hair, small hands gliding though her curls, smoothing them out against the pillow.
"I'm fine, Mare. Get some sleep, you deserve it." Then spoken in a whisper, "I'm so glad you're okay."

Just as she was drifting off, the memory that she wasn't supposed to be okay came trickling back...

♣ ♣ ♣

(23rd March 1978)

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A day or so."

The answer did not come from Trudy like she'd been expecting. Instead it was the calming french tone of someone she'd been dreaming about.

"Esme?"

"Yes?"

Mary sighed, feeling Esme's body lean down to see her better. She felt safe, content. But there was something hanging to the back of her mind she couldn't quite place, something that might have been foreboding, but was just a wisp of remembrance now.

Then it hit her.

"Esme... I-I can't remember," her voice was a breath, a gust of wind, a whisper.

"Oh, ma petite cœur, I know."

Tears formed under Mary's eyes and she held onto Esme tighter, grounding her, like the only real thing in the world of stolen memories.

"Why? Why can't I remember?"

Light breaths were on her cheek as Esme learned down meet her eye. Something passed behind them, something Mary couldn't determine, but it was a shade of blue. Sad, lost wishes, unanswered prayers, forgotten dreams.
"Someone took it away. A memory charm, but we'll find who did it, d'accord?"

Mary looked up, unconvincing in her content, and nodded.
"We'll fix it."

♣ ♣ ♣

(23rd March 1978 continued)

She hadn't known. She'd asked, and Esme could not well lie to her. So she's had to tell Mary the story. How she was found, what had happened.

By the end she'd been crying, though it was not her place. Tears were hot and burned as they rolled down her cheeks, and the sight of Mary's there to match only made her wish to cry more.

It was as Esme-Leigh held Mary in her arms, tears staining her porcelain skin, that she knew she would not be strong enough to watch this. She would not be strong enough to see Mary in this way, to see her never be the same again. Not really.

Her hair smelt like the honey cleaning charms that madam Pomfrey had used on Mary's blonde waves and her skin still smelt like lavender.
It was now, holding Mary close that Esme knew this was not her reason.

This was not her reason to stay because Esme-Leigh was not a Gryffindor. Not really. She was not brave enough to see the girl she loved turn into someone else. Someone she still loved, but did not know, nor understand. Her reason had died the night she was so brutally attacked. That Mary, was still in the dark, trapped there forever without the chance to even say goodbye.

So that night, when Mary and Esme both fell asleep in the hospital wing; Esme-Leigh did so knowing her days at Hogwarts were numbered. She was going to France.

♣ ♣ ♣

(24th March 1978)

The boys arrived first into the hospital wing. Remus brought a sizeable amount of chocolate, insisting Mary eat it and that it will make her feel better. Peter, of course, agreed as James called them both loopy.

When the girls arrived Aliona wore a peculiar look in her eyes at seeing Mary where she once was. But Trudy took her hand and they sit at Mary's side together.

The sunrise was beautiful that morning. Pinks, and oranges lingered in the sky as blue began to creep into the canvas, bringing forth the day. Dawn is it's most beautiful in spring, where the world is blooming and the sky only just remembers that it's allowed to be lovely.

"I had dreams." Mary told them as they sat around her bed, laughing at the sheer luck of the world that they all should be there, alive.

"Dreams?" Marlene asked, a glance over at James who smiled.

"I had dreams. Some were nonsense, but most were of the dark. And then there was this light, it was barely even a light, but the extent to which the dream was dark made anything less than pitch black blinding. Anyway, every time I got close to it, I knew I was getting closer to being back here. To being alive and okay. It was strange that the light wasn't the other way." Mary went on, not really looking at anyone in particular, and instead at the brightness of the sky. They'd missed breakfast but it didn't matter all that much. They were content enough to be breathing.

"Maybe that says something?" James mused in response, his eyes –like everyone's– on the sunrise.

"About what?" (Peter.)

"About humanity? About Mary's faith in it? Both? Neither? I'm not sure. But it must count for something."

Mary sighed, "it probably counts for something. But I felt myself lost in the dark and I wanted to come home. Maybe it was my own thoughts that painted this as the light? Maybe everyone sees something different as light. This is definitely mine."

Remus, who was next to the bed, squeezed Mary's shoulder.
"You've come back out wiser than you went in. We'll need you even more now."

Mary smiled at him, "we all need each other in the end, don't we? You lot were my light, and now I can help find everyone else's."

They thought, in that beautiful moment; with the sunlight streaming though the window; that they would be alright. Perhaps they were right.

♣ ♣ ♣

(24th March 1978 continued)

When James materialised in front of Lily Evans' house, he realised that rain had a way of being poetic, how it had begun leaking from the sky like tears. It stuck to his hair, dripping off the ends of his curls, and it stuck to his school shirt which he had left on after classes ended.

It may have been the sky's idea of a greek tragedy to pour its heart out in that exact moment, in a dramatic display of empathy.

Now he knew Mary was okay, the things that had been secondary suddenly moved up in the space that occupied James' mind, and owing Lily an explanation seemed the highest on his hypothetical list.

But now he was here, and it was raining, and it was all just a little bit too romantic...
He knocked anyway, and she answered. It was nearly night but it was difficult to tell the difference since the light was consumed by storm clouds.

Lily stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment and he thought that perhaps she'd seen him apparate before realising it was more likely the fact he hadn't seen her in weeks. She, however (and unfortunately for him), had never been more beautiful.

James had run this moment over in his head just short of a hundred times. He'd planned at least twelve options of things to say. But in his plans it hadn't been raining, and so he was caught relatively off guard.

They merely stared at each other for a moment, recognition in each of their eyes. Lily knew why he was here, James knew Esme had told her everything, he knew how she felt about it. Through some kind of invisible tether, the two of them could read each other's mind, absorb their emotions. It hurt tremendously.
A million things to say, and he chose to open with nothing.

The rain began to tumble heavier as the skies opened up more freely, seeming to laugh at James and his loss of bravado.
"Go round the back, I'll let you in my room," she said to him, not betraying much emotion, but James could see it all on her face anyway and so the endeavour was fruitless.

He nodded, and rejoined her a moment later in her bedroom. Water began pattering on the window, rather aggressively and they both listened, entranced for a long moment before James shook out his hair and looked up to meet her eyes. Everything he'd planned to open with were out the window now and the cold of the rainwater was numbing his brain. It must have been.

"You're very beautiful, you know?"

This was clearly not what Lily had expected him to say (it was barely what he had expected himself to say). Lily looked at him in disbelief, her almond shaped green eyes widening as she stared at him, enough to make his heart stop.

She paused before dismissing the comment, "not like Esme."

"Esme's very pretty but she's clearly not anything like you," James replied, eyes now locked on hers. They were the most spectacular shade of emerald, large and doleful.

When Lily spoke it was in a whisper, "and what am I then?"

James said his answer as a breath, low and secretive, but she heard him above the rain.
"Magical."

Lily shivered at the word. As if it has tickled her soul, swallowed her easily. She sparkled with the word and nearly, so nearly, smiled.
"What is it you want?" She asked, doing her best not to show him just how vulnerable the moment had been.

"An hour. Half. Just to talk to you. Just to explain."

Lily regarded him with those beguiling emerald eyes.
"An hour."

He smiled, genuine and whole. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself the luxury.

(24th March 1978)

And so James told her everything. He sat down, on the end of her bed and began at the beginning.

Lily found it to be elegantly tragic, his story. It began with a distraction, a hurt, dejected need to see it through to the end. A desperate need to be loved, to feel the love he was told to feel. How the world continued even after his stopped turning altogether.

The date, he told her, had begun as a desolate idea, forced intimacy that felt like jamming the final piece of a puzzle together, one that didn't fit.
James told her about their kiss, how he'd prayed to feel a plethora of emotions, how her kiss might make him love her, in some wonderful, magical moment. It didn't. Instead he had kissed Esme-Leigh and felt only regret.

And in return, Lily confessed that she had allowed Dorcas to coerce her into going on a date. She told him all about the nice boy she could hardly pay attention to, though he deserved it. If James was shocked or upset, he did a good job of hiding it, carefully behind a thin veil. She told him about the night she spent in a random bar following her date, how she's kissed a boy she didn't know simply because she could. How it hadn't helped.

They were both doomed she supposed. Both of them had made mistakes they couldn't wish away, mistakes that brought them here.

It had been more than an hour when they'd both finished their stories. James had only asked for an hour, but it had been three.
The rain hadn't stopped but it had only gotten darker.

Later, they lay together, side by side atop Lily's bed, James' hair had dried from the rain but the ghost of it was still surrounding him like an aura.

"I don't want to be this way," he whispered, almost too quiet for Lily to hear.

"No?"

He shook his head, the ripples sending aftershocks into the mattress.
"I want to be a normal person, sometimes."

Lily turned to look at him, to find hazel eyes were already fixed on hers, jarring and crystalline.
"Normal? Normal is shit."

James laughed, an exhale of breath and a soft smile that was so faint she might have imagined it.
"Okay, well sometimes I wish I could be the sort of person not to ruin things by accident, before they even happen."

His words carried more meaning than he would admit out loud.
Lily inched her hand closer to his, until their fingers brushed.

"I'm going to promise to do things better," James announced, and Lily noticed the jolt he gave as their fingers touched. Lily intertwined them.

"I will to."

"I promise I'll be a better person, but Lily?"

Only when she looked deeper did she notice there were ghosts of tears in James' eyes. In the way they sparkled.
"Yes?"

"Will you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Will you tell me everything's going to be alright?" His face was pleading, it broke her heart. "Just this once, will you lie to me."

Sitting up, Lily braced a hand on his chest, looking at him with and meeting his upset eyes in her own. He stared back at her, like she'd hung the moon, but he couldn't see it shine anymore.
"James, what else happened?"

"One of my friends, who I love, she got...attacked, by some people, and we don't know who. And for a while we didn't know if she was going to be okay... we still don't. Not really."

Lily's eyes widened, "and is your friend okay? Is that why you haven't been replying to my letters?"

James nodded, "I tried but—"

She shook her head, pressing a finger to his lips and he fell silent.
"It's going to be okay," she lied. But she lied for him, because he asked her to.

"It is?"

With a smile, she settled underneath the crook of his arm, silencing any other pains he may have had to drift away with the sensation for her presence.

"Of course it is. I'm an excellent liar."

James made the mistake of pulling her close. Because now he could feel her breathing against his neck, and he could smell her shampoo, and now he never wanted to let go. He'd rather just stay here, in Lily's bedroom forever, listening to the rain and believing every glittering lie she told.

Lily didn't know that, however, but she did know that she would lie to him any time he asked, if only it would make it true...

♥ ♥ ♥

(25th March 1978)

The first hints of sunrise was seeping through the curtains, the morning was slow and gradually brighter, almost as if the sun had decided to lie too, promise sunlight. Everything will be okay.
Lily and James watched it come over the horizon together, talking about nothing in particular.

"What's your favourite flower?"

"My what?"

"Well you have a flower name, and so does your sister, which makes me imagine you must have thought about it before, no?"

Lily chuckled, grinning at him from where he sat on her desk chair. Lily was perched, cross-legged on her bed, and she watched him with an air of amusement.

"I suppose I have thought about it."

"And?"

"I like lots of flowers. I like irises, I like sunflowers, and I like pansies, but mostly I like daises."

"Daisies?"

Lily gasped at his negativistic tone.
"What's wrong with daisies?!"

"Daisies are weeds!"

"That's why I like them!"

James laughed, raucously, far too loud, before slapping a hand over his mouth and continuing to shake with unadulterated chuckles.
"Shortstop, I have never heard anything so ridiculous in my life! Expand and explain, please."

At this Lily giggled a little bit too, it might have been ridiculous to James, and she could understand why he would be skeptical, but she couldn't well tell him the truth. Because the truth was that ever since she was a child, all her magic had been accidental. All of it apart from her ability to control flowers, specifically daisies. Ever since she was seven, she could entertain herself for hours just watching it open and close in her hand. Daisies gave her comfort whenever she felt like she wasn't in control, especially of her magic. Or if Petunia called her a freak for smashing a picture frame or toppling the jam jars, Lily would go outside and play with the daisies to remember that she could make beautiful things happen too.

"I like daisies because... even though they're weeds, they still can be beautiful. Even if they're different, and not like other invasive plants, they make a place brighter, and happier, rather than the downtrodden way most fields look when infested with other weeds. Daisies are kinder."

James was watching her from the desk chair, a soft smile on his lips.
"Brilliant answer. I'm sold."

"Apart from that my favourite flowers are carnations. Yellow ones."

James said nothing, he only smiled for a long moment, swinging back and forth on her chair.
"What's that saying? 'A weed is but an unloved flower.'"

Lily chuckled, her own beaming smile radiant in the new sunrise.
"Edna Wheeler Wilcox. And it's not a saying, it's a poem."

"Oh?"

Lily nodded, "a weed is but an unloved flower,
Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait,
Until it learns it's high estate,
And glorifies some bower.
A weed is but an unloved flower!"

"That's fairly beautiful."

"There's another verse but I've forgotten it."

"I'm sure it's not as good as the first one."

Lily nodded, leaning back into her bed.
"Probably not."

James chuckled, again, watching her yawn as the sunlight began to take full hold, dazzling them both a little bit...

He left not long after, and Lily would have no way of knowing that he'd lied. He did know it was a poem, from 1911, and he knew the second verse as well (he'd become familiar with it after stealing –confiscating– a poetry book off Remus last year). But he didn't dare take the smile off her face that had taken root then, at the idea of sharing the poem with him. So he'd allowed her to recite it, and he payed attention to the rise and fall of her voice as sunlight crept higher onto her freckled cheeks.

Lily had no way of knowing how he'd smiled like an idiot upon seeing a cluster daisies on the quidditch field during practise that day.

(25th March 1978)

Mary's hospital bed was crowded most of the time when classes weren't on. Everyone that knew Mary, all her friends, and the younger children she'd tutor, had all come to visit. This filled the room with a constant flow of laughter that came and went like a restless tide.

That afternoon, all of Mary's closest friends sat around her, struggling for room. They were all too caught up in the excitement of being alive that they allowed Mary to forget that she couldn't remember. It was blissful to live in this way, in the space in time between confronting a problem, and allowing it not to exist.

Mary however, was still slightly hazy, but more than happy to listen to the conversation around her and laugh along.

"Nice night yesterday, James?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Marlene."

Mary turned her head slightly towards Marlene who was smirking in a way that rivalled only Sirius Black in coquettishness.

"Well you didn't come back to the Heads dorm last night and Peter said you weren't in the boys dorm either."

"Shut up."

"And so I thought that the only possible explanation was that you were... elsewhere."

"I'm warning you, blondie."

Trudy, who was sitting next to Peter at the foot of Mary's bed, furrowed her eyebrows.
"What exactly are you getting at? Where could he have been?"

At this Marlene only seemed to delight more, and similarly James looked like he might enjoy being run over by the night bus several times.
"Why he snuck out to see Lily Simpson of course! You remember? The one I was telling you about? My girl's best friend? He's got it bad for her."

"He does not!" James protested, rather lamely as it was not heard thanks to the rest of the room bursting into varying degrees of laughter. The loudest, of course, being Sirius who had to clutch his side with one hand, and onto Aliona for support with the other. Laughter had nearly put him in pain.

"Oh sweet Prongs, you poor bastard."

"Shut up!"

Even Mary was grinning, her smile obscured slightly by the quilt she was firmly wrapped in.
"Lame, Potter. Lame."

James rounded on her, gentler than he had been with Sirius, "what's that meant to mean MacDonald?"

Mary chuckled, her eyes were still shut as she sank into the pillows, "I said you were lame. Only you would ever think of a way to break out of school to see a girl."

"Fuck everyone. You've corrupted Mary!" James protested, "sweet, kindhearted Mary! You've turned her into a menace!"

"Shut up!" Aliona giggled, "we've made her better!"

"My arse have you!"

But despite James' best efforts to dissuade them, everybody knew he could leave Hogwarts, and had been to visit Lily.
He found that perhaps he didn't mind, if it weren't for the fact that mentioning her name made him miss her.

♣ ♣ ♣

(25th March 1978 continued)

"I'm awake now, Esme-Leigh. You don't need to stay with me as long."

"Just until the sun goes down?"

Mary smiled with her eyes closed, "alright. But if you're going to be here anyway, there's space in the bed."

Esme laughed mellifluously, covering her mouth with one hand.
"I'll hurt you," she protested.

"Nah, I'll be okay," she replied, pulling back the corner of the bedsheet to allow Esme to climb in next to her.

The bed was warm, and Mary smiled when she felt the weight of Esme beside her. She kept her eyes closed but knew by touch where Esme-Leigh's shoulder was to hold on to.

"You sure I'm not hurting you?"

"Positive."

"D'accord."

Mary chuckled and pulled herself closer into Esme, setting further into the sheets and wrapping them both up in the quilt.
"See? I'm fine."

Her pale green eyes were closed, so she didn't see the look in Esme-Leigh's eyes as she stared at the ceiling. Resigned, final.
"I know you're fine."

"Then go to sleep."

She didn't reply immediately and Mary was only beginning to believe that Esme had taken her advice when she heard an soft, French accent whispered into the dark.
"You'll be okay."

"I am okay," Mary lied, though she wasn't sure if she was lying or not.

"It'll be okay, won't it?"

"Of course it will."

The problem with lying is that it can often delude the speaker as well as the one to hear the lie. More often then not, the truth is the difficult option, the one that confronts fears and stares matters face down. But lies can be comforting, they can be nurturing, secure. One can live blissfully for as long as they wish in a lie. It is reality that destroys us. Untruths are our demise.

"Okay." Esme breathed, eyes dropping closed, hiding the soft brown of her natural eyes.

"Okay."

The hospital wing fell silent with the blanket of lies to keep them warm. To keep them safe.

(25th March 1978)

Lily and Alice were the only ones left in her bedroom, Frank and Dorcas had both left an hour ago while the two of them finished homework.

"Imagine having other responsibilities? Crazy right?"

Lily chuckled, "I mean, exam season is coming up. Who has time for frivolous things like having a life?"

"Exactly. It's horse shit."

"Alice! What has a friendship with Sirius Black done to you?"

The laugh that caught in Alice's throat was breathy and mellifluous.
"Gets you in trouble for a foul mouth from my grandmother."

"But Joyce swears like a sailor?"

"She doesn't let me."

Lily scoffed, "shame then."

They were giggling about their new friendships now, but it was true. They were changed by them.

No matter if the change was small or large, or for the best– they were all different after meeting Marlene's group of friends.

Lily thought back to the first day she'd met the boys, not when they were formally introduced, but before. She had been on her bike, and seen for four of them, joshing around like idiots, and James had seen her. She remembered hating him for when he winked at her like he could steal any heart he liked.
But now, she realised how subtle the lies she's allowed herself to believe were. Everyone was lying some way. James may have an ego, but he wasn't narcissistic. Sirius appeared aloof, but he knew more than he let on. Remus' demeanour suggested he was a calming presence, yet he was always the one to say the most outlandish things. And Peter, he was more quietly caring that he was given credit for.

Everyone had their own lies that made them presentable. Lily had lies too. She hid her magic, she pushed it down, only allowing it to come out in flowers. She hid herself in the disguise of the name Lily Simpson, though she wasn't sure who Lily Simpson was in comparison to Evans anymore. Perhaps they were too different to maintain. All Lily knew was that she was lying, and that everyone else was too. And it wasn't always a bad thing.

Lie to me. Just this once. James has whispered to her in this bedroom, tear stained and upset. Breaking apart in front of her.

"Lily?"

She glanced up at Alice.
"Yeah?"

"You busy in there?"

She shook her head, but the thought remained.

♥ ♥ ♥

(26th March 1978 continued)

That night, Lily found herself alone in her bedroom. Though she was never truly alone anymore, the dreamy blue wisps almost ached to join her.
Her room was silent in the dark. Though it would never truly be dark anymore.

Lily glanced at her jewellery box and saw a glimmer of something gold. In that box was where she used to keep her Hogwarts letter, which she would bring out once a year on September first. But now something else lay in its place.

Carefully, she pulled out a gold necklace with a winged golden ball attached. The one James had given to her. She'd taken it off a few weeks ago, allowing it to sit somewhere, anywhere that wasn't around her neck. But now she looked at it and felt a swell of something deep in her heart, because it was hers and it made her heart leap when she put it on.

With the necklace on her collarbone, everything felt easier than it was before. He didn't even know it and he was helping her.

"Dammit James Potter."

She didn't mean it. Not really.

♥ ♥ ♥

(27th March 1978)

Indulge Cafe housed its usual occupants, plus a few other's Lily didn't recognise, but it wasn't busy for a Thursday afternoon. A few people had brought their papers and were working at the desks, a few were drinking coffee and hot chocolate in school uniform, but most were quiet.

"It's always dead on Thursdays." Christian Steinfeld said as they surveyed the room together behind the desk.

"At least it pays."

That's what I keep telling myself."

Lily laughed.
"How's uni?"

"Still uni."

Christian, despite their history, was still someone Lily trusted and knew well enough to carry a conversation around. He had taken a few weeks to forget their horrific 'date' but now he was a valued friend.

"Well how about other things? Any girls yet?"

Christian laughed, blonde hair falling into his eyes in a way that perhaps should have been attractive, but did nothing to her regardless.
"Not since you actually."

"You're kidding?!"

Again he laughed, cobalt blue eyes twinkling.
"Nope. You've cursed me, Lily!"

She shoved him playfully and he clutched his stomach in laughter, "I did not curse you! Maybe it's Dorcas going about calling you 'Jewish Christian: the most boring man alive' that's done the trick?"

"She still does that?"

Lily nodded as she pulled a cloth from a drawer and began wiping the worktop, "oh yeah. She thinks she's fucking hilarious."

Speaking quietly to pass the down time in their shift made Lily realise that she did value Christian, rather a lot. Even after they decided to be 'just friends,' they found it all terribly easy to do just that.

After a potentially romantic history, she could remain friends with Christian, and not feel anything towards him accept grateful for his presence during longs hours. She would wonder, pensively, for hours, why this was so easy with Christian and not with James?

Because she had decided to be his friend, but in the back of her mind, the way his lips felt on her own never fully went away. His arms holding her close to him on Christmas stayed with her like a lingering dream. And sometimes, every now and then, she would see James laugh in the sunlight –like Christian had just done– and his eyes would gleam mischief and his raven curls would catch the rays of light and her breath wound escape her. Because every so often, Lily would be hit with a stark reminder that James Potter was beautiful, and perhaps maybe, just maybe, they weren't the same as her and Christian. Perhaps they could never be 'just friends.'

Instinctively, Lily's hand found the little gold necklace on her collarbone and she swore it pulsed with joy.

It was his birthday today, she realised.

(27th March 1978)

"Happy birthday dear Prongs! Happy birthday to you!"

The common room erupted in cheers as James blew out the candles on the cake Peter had made with the house elves earlier that day.

From the very beginning, James Potter's birthday had been a riot. Calamity after calamity had ensured.
Esme-Leigh had watched in delight as all the food in the great hall began singing and dancing to a song written by Sirius about 'James Potter really is hotter than Snivellous Snape but not hotter than Moony!' Followed by a choreographed dance by the suits of armour.

The whole school had gone about singing the surprisingly catchy song for the rest of the day and that was only the beginning. Classes consisted of paper airplane dogfights (marauders vs everyone else, of course); followed by a mash potato war at dinner; and topped off by a tumultuous party in the common room. James was even convinced to skip quidditch practice until tomorrow.

Music thrummed in Esme-Leigh's ears so loud she nearly forgot all about her decision to go to France. The finality of it seemed to float out of reach the more drinks she had.

She watched at Trudy and Ozma danced together, and Sirius and Remus, Aliona and Marlene were dancing too (or rather more play fighting) while Peter attempted to break up the commotion.

"What's the pretty lady doing on her own at a party?" A voice said behind her, as it's owner stationed himself on the arm of her chair.

"I could ask the birthday boy the same question."

James laughed in her ear, leaning down so they could hear each other over the music.
"Well I didn't want to take all the attention off you by being too beautiful all the time. It's quite intimidating."

"Don't worry about that, love. I'm pretty fucking beautiful myself."

Esme pinned him with an exasperated look, "so you never seem tire of reminding us."

"I feel like it's quite important."

"Are you sloshed?"

"Only moderately."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, not bothering to fix her glasses as they tipped to the side of her face.
"Alright then, Prongs. Happy birthday, mon amour."

"I'm an old man now."

"You're eighteen."

"I'm due for retirement soon. I should get one of those little necklaces for my glasses."

"Fermer la bouche, you big oaf."

James frowned into her hair, "I don't know what that means."

"Probably for the best."

He chuckled and Esme-Leigh could feel the vibrations in her skull, like his laugh was sinking into her skin.
"You still haven't answered my question. You look a million miles away."

"It's nothing really, I was just having the party blues."

James kissed the top of her head and she could tell he was frowning, "they aren't a thing."

"They are now."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"No."

"Oui."

"Ill kiss you again."

"No."

"HA!"

Esme giggled and shifted closer into James' side.
"I win," he muttered triumphantly into the side of her head.

"I hate you."

"I know."

They stayed like that for a while, just watching the party spiral around them, thankful that they weren't watching alone.

"I wish Mary could have gotten out to see this."

She could feel James sigh, "I know. But when she gets out, and when she feels up to it, we'll all have a little party together, okay? In the room of requirement."

"She'd love that."

"And in the mean time," he stood up, rather deftly for someone who'd been drinking a little too much, offering her his hand, "me and you are going to dance to this song."

"I love this song!"

James' grin was enough to make her forget why she was sitting alone in the first place.
"I know you do. Get up here and dance with me, Bisset!"

She took his hand and they began to sway to the verse of Tiny Dancer by Elton John. All thoughts became secondary. In that moment she was just a girl forgetting about the world.

Not long after, Remus took her hand and spun her away from James. Then she was dancing with Sirius; singing karaoke with Marlene and serenading Aliona.

It was only at the very end of the night where she found herself with James again.
"I never asked you what you were doing alone earlier, birthday boy?"

He fixed her with a raised eyebrow but she didn't back down. When James realised this he sighed rather deeply.
"I don't know. I guess I wanted to be somewhere else."

"With her." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to respond. "Why didn't you just go?"

"Because I'd been drinking, and I didn't want to say something stupid."

"Everything you say is stupid."

At this James laughed more than he would have if he wasn't so drunk. "Shut up, Ez!"

"Never!"

He grinned at her and she grinned back.
Esme-Leigh realised then that she would be okay. No matter what happened, even after she left for France. One day she would be okay. One day she would smile with someone that knew her like James and loved her for it, just like she'd always dreamed he would, but didn't. One day she would be lucky enough to be someone's Lily Simpson.

(27th March 1978)

She was writing James a birthday letter when she saw Lucifer again. It was dark in her bedroom save for one light, and the lampposts outside leaked through her thin curtains.

She spotted the shadows moving before she saw him, draped in them and smiling from beneath a hood of secrets.

It had been a while since she'd seen Lucifer, but the devil never did fully go away, she should have known that by now.

The golden necklace pulsed as she pulled another sheet of paper from her notebook.

–and I know I've written a lot but I feel it necessary to ramble for an ample amount of time to justify actually sending a letter, because it will take a couple days and there's no point in only having once sentence from me.

I hope you come back around soon. Maybe bring Marlene? Dorcas is acting all attention starved recently and I think I know why. She came in to the dark room with me a few days ago and just sat there with me (still for half an hour?! I know!). I think she's losing the place without her girl and I can't take care of her!

Lily looked up, sighing, and allowed her eyes to drift to the place where Lucifer had been. His shadow casting a harsh blanket of dark around where he'd stood, under the tenebrous orange light. She imagined writing about him, about his presence the past few months.

I think I can see the devil.

She crossed it out, harshly.

I wish I could have seen your party! But I'll get you a cake from my work next time I see you. Caroline let's us take home cakes that haven't been eaten for free!

See you soon!

Yours, Lily x

She was an idiot. But Lucifer was there again tomorrow. James the next. And when she saw him again, the devil didn't really seem all that important with him by her side.

Heyyy! It's a very short one today but it's just a bit of a filler anyway!

This was on schedule to be posted much earlier but Ive got covid so I have to delay finishing it! Anyway it's here now!
Also my exams are all done so yayyy!!

That's about all I have to say for now, hopefully everyone is alright, and I'll see you in the next one!

Love you all,

Abbi♥️