This chapter is dedicated to the adorable Buttercup who I've been talking a lot to over the past few days and she's an absolute sweetheart!
Power_Puff_Princess ♥️♥️♥️

(1st September 1977)

Sirius Black had a talent for the dramatics. He'd always been partial to a good bit of flare where least necessary, or most mundane, or rather anywhere he saw fit.

James Potter, on the contrary, elected to go about things in an more too-the-point way and conducted most things with a level of frankness and respectable candour. However even the most forthright of characters could appreciate when some things called for a touch of The Arts...

Until that moment, the four marauders had been seated on their respective four posters, leaving the one nearest the bathroom as empty as it always had been (a student of their age hadn't been there to occupy that bed and so over the years they'd demised various aliases that their roommate could have been, their favourite being a time-traveller from Alabama that hadn't made it back on time to be sorted). And it was while each marauder took solitude in the quiet that James found himself smirking while he pulled a small badge out from his pocket and begun throwing it between each hand like he liked to do with his snitch.

However this badge was by no means one the other boys would recognise. It was not silver and bronze like the MPP badges Mary had made for each member, nor was it the red and gold Quidditch Captain badge he'd worn on the corner of his uniform jumper for a couple of years. No, this badge was different. It was slightly bigger and it was all gold, on the front were gleaming letters that read Head Boy.

It didn't take long for Peter to look up from the Marauders Map to see James toying with this mysterious trinket and enquire what it was.
"Prongs?"

"Pete?"

"What's that?"

James' smirk grew as the other two boys perked up their attentions to the only thing mildly interesting they'd seen in the past hour.
"This?" He tossed the badge into the air once more, flipping it like a galleon.

"No, the tattoo on your forehead."

Sirius snorted just as Remus caught on as to exactly what James was holding:
"Who did you nick that off?"

"I didn't."

"You definitely did. You've often been light fingered, Prongs. One might even call you a kleptomaniac– you've had the same stolen snitch for three years!"

James tutted sardonically, "if I were a kleptomaniac I wouldn't still have the same snitch, would I? I'd have stolen multiple in my day."

"Prosecution rests."

The entire conversation still seemed to have Peter and Sirius rather at a loss; they shared a look of perplexity, although both seemed reluctant to interrupt the little sparring match between their two other friends.

Sirius broke first (he usually did) and exclaimed his utter contempt for being left in the dark on any matter, regardless if it was frivolous or futile.
"For the love of all that is holy, will someone please tell me what's going on before I shit blood!"
(Peter grimaced but did not object to the imposed question.)

"That," Remus pointed to the coruscating object in James' grasp, "is a Head Boy badge. I'm asking where the bastard nicked it."

"—first of all: I'm not a bastard. Secondly, I did not steal it. I was given it. As to why? I thought I'd take suggestions."

By this point all three boys were in utter dubiety. Peter seemed to be trying to pull his lemon blonde hair out from its roots; Sirius' mouth was catching flies and Remus was still eyeing James with an element of superiority in the fact he wasn't at all fooled.

"There's no way... what did the Head Girl think of this?"

"She thought it was hilarious, naturally."

Remus smirked, "I can imagine. Did you get it off Nicholas Saunders?"

In that particular moment in time James had not anticipated for so much conflict over the veracity of the badge. Of course he hadn't expected them to marry the idea right away but at least he hoped they would eventually buy it.
"No I did not. And I happen to think I'd make a much better Head Boy than Nicholas Saunders thank you very much!" He scoffed, eyeing Remus with a glare fled by pure odium and scorn.

"He'd be good enough."

"Well he's not Head Boy is he? I am!"

"I don't buy it."

"Then that'll make you seem pretty bloody stupid when you see me at the prefect meeting tomorrow."

Moony seemed to be enjoying the game of ping-pong. Despite sharing a similar ideology to Prongs when it came to matters of melodrama he, too, could appreciate it in small doses, especially when said melodrama involves a lithe battle of wits.

Peter in the other hand was still very much at a loss.
"When did you find out?"

"The badge came with my letter."

Sirius gasped.
"That's why your letter was heavier than mine?!"

"Perhaps..."

"Moony, he's telling the truth." Sirius assured, nodding profusely towards him, now the only marauder completely convinced.

"Let me see the badge?"
James thew it to Remus and he caught it with surprising ease in his left hand. Upon further intense scrutiny he deduced that it certainly was a prefect badge, it wasn't dissimilar to his, despite being a trifle larger, but the words on the front definitely read Head Boy.

"What the fuck?..." he muttered, turning it over in his hand then throwing it back to James.

"Believe me now?"

After a moments consideration he was still frowning in distain. The thing with Remus was he never seemed to believe anything. He was haply the most skeptical person one was likely to meet.
"Did you get a letter with it?"

Prongs rolled his eyes, "yes! What is this? Am I on trial?! Yes, Your Honour, there was a letter!  Would you like to see it?"
He rolled off his bed and fetched a folded piece of parchment from his trunk to use as a throwing star at Moony's face.

"Thank you, kindly, James darling." (Sarcasm had always suited Remus well and since it was considerably after noon, none of them had the authority to complain).

He unfolded and scanned the letter, James savoured the way his amber eyes seemed to widen by the second before they looked up at him, his mouth slightly agape and looked utterly dejected.
"You're the Head Boy?"

"Well... yes. I have been trying to convince you of it the past ten minutes."

"Yeah but... you're Head Boy."

James laughed, his laugh had always been more contagious than the flu and so the other three boys found themselves laughing as well.
"I know. Mental isn't it?"

"Not to put to fine a point on it but... abso-fucking-lutely!"

The Marauders laughed for longer than they'd care to admit. It only got worse when Sirius managed to roll of his bed and onto the floor with a raucous thud.

Peter was the first to recover (which was unnatural to his character that appreciated nothing more than to watch a decent melodrama).
"Prongs? Aren't you meant to be in the Heads Dorm?"

"Possibly. But then I didn't want to spend my last-first-night at Hogwarts anywhere other than here. I'll go to the dorm tomorrow. Anyway... technically my duties don't start until tomorrow."

Sirius (who had pulled himself back up from his nearly fatal blow) quirked an eyebrow, "so?"

James smirked in reply, "so technically I'm not yet a school disappointment if I were to break a rule or two..."

"Prongs? You awake?" Came a voice about an hour later, nighttime had descended over the familiar dormitory of Hogwarts and with it brought a thick desire for sleep and most of the boys hadn't realised just how exhausted they'd been.

"What is it?" James turned in his bed to face where he assumed Sirius must be; the place was dark and so it was only an educated guess he was able to make.

"I've got a question."

James sighed, "go well."

Sirius' face was largely obscured by the darkness of midnight, and again partly by the blanket tucked under his chin but somehow it was till evident that he was grinning like it was his birthday.
"So are you friends with Lily Simpson now?"

(21st July 1977)

The sun hung lazily in the sky, blushing a glorious pink hue across the hills, tinting the clouds the same. Lily thought they resembled the marshmallows that Dorcas' mother sprinkled onto hot chocolate.
James' shoulder felt like a sanctuary as she lay resting on it; her forehead seemed to fit into his collarbone like it was crafted by a divine power just for her to stay in forever.

It was with little embarrassment that she realised just how content she was with him; the epiphany surged trough her mind like an injection of ice; they really would make better friends than rivals.

"James?" She didn't remember ever having called him James.

"Lily." He hasn't called her that either, he'd always taken preference to a cretinous term of endearment, or similarly: 'Simpson'.

Simpson. She'd been pondering 'Simpson' since her argument with James. Why had she so desperately wanted to be someone else other than Lily Evans? Why had so been so fixated on the idea that a new name would change the labels she carried.
Lily Evans: The peculiar child.
Lily Evans: The detestable prefect.
Lily Evans: The forgotten witch.

"James?" She said again, softer than the clouds decorating the sunset.

"Lily?"

"Do you think..."

He pulled away slightly, just enough to be able to study her eyes as they twinkled at him.
"Do I think, what?"

"That we can be friends instead of... whatever this is? Or at least tail this bitterness back to an attempt at civility?"

James smiled, leaning back to allow her head to find his shoulder again. She smiled when she felt a hand run through her hair so gently that she could have convinced herself it was her imagination.

"Isn't that what we're doing just now?"

♣ ♣ ♣

(30th July 1977)

A week had passed since the funeral and still James was navigating a world still turning without his mother. Everything seemed to look different since Euphemia had died, the memory of Lily on the rooftop filled every capillary of his brain. Every time the world seemed to close around him, every time the dark began to consume him, reassurance came with her warm auburn hair tickling his nose and her soft breath grazing her shoulder. Lily was not the answer, of course she wasn't, but she was a much better collection of questions.

"Do you think we can be friends?"

He had never heard such a dulcet sentence in the history of his existence. The world was cruel, capricious, wicket, and yet all it took was a friendship (or an agreement of civility) to flip his world, once again, on its head. But this time he wasn't sure which way up it was supposed to be...

Marlene hadn't been able to bring herself to leave the Potter's home, not since she'd returned. Her mother, Felicity, had been writing but daren't entreat her back to London, nor would she have convinced her to pay her father a visit in Hertfordshire. She simply couldn't be dragged away from her mamma's memory and nobody wanted, nor dared, to try.

Sirius found her alone in her bedroom with the door open. She lay on her back with her legs hanging off the bed, a pastel-blue summer dress fanning out around her knees, mirroring her flaxen waves. Marlene's eyes were dropped shut and altogether she resembled a summer angel. A record spun on her turntable in the corner of the room.

"Mar?" Sirius said nervously, opening the door wider to watch Marlene open one eye and study him.
"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing. It's blissful. I haven't thought of nothing for millenniums."

"Well then I'll unfortunately have to ask you to think of something," Sirius condemned gravely, perching on the edge of Marlene's bed and offering her a comforting smile.

Both her vivid blue eyes were open but she didn't seem too happy about it.
"What am I to think of?"

"Something to do about James— and us. We'll go mad in this house, with all these memories... we need to do something."

She made no move to sit up but her expression seemed much more captivated now.
"Perhaps we could do something with Dorcas' lot? It's a lovely day for those who have the capacity to enjoy it."

Sirius glanced at the supercilious looking sun as it grinned at him, mocking his misery.
"I suppose. It wouldn't do any harm and James certainly likes Simpson."

She chuckled, "hmm. He does doesn't he." Her eyes had fluttered shut again for a moment or two, just as Sirius ran the back of his hand through her hair in such a brotherly fashion that if she closed her eyes she could mistake it for her half brother Darren, in fact, it was much nicer than that. Sirius had that sort of effect on her; either completely stimulating or weirdly comforting. There wasn't much in between with Sirius, but then: there rarely was.

It was only when she opened her eyes she saw Sirius' face, a tear slipping its way down his cheek which he attempted to hide with charcoal shoulder length hair. Marlene was not fooled. Marlene was never fooled.

Despite often having a million things to say, Marlene often could tell when words would not be sufficient to articulate what needed to be said and so rather than trying –likely in vain– to put the feeling into print she simply held out her arms to him, beckoning him to join her on top of her bed. With a discrete smile he complied and they lay like that, together cuddled on her bed for far longer than either of them had sworn to admit when James finally found them half asleep from the heat in the sun and from each other.

♣ ♣ ♣

(30th July 1977 continued)

Remus swung a picnic basket as he lead the way down to the meadow. He was accompanied by three marauders and two girls and were due to meet the other group on the way.

Esme-Leigh skipped past him, chopped blue hair billowing behind her and a bright smile on her face. It had been a long while since they remembered what smiling felt like.
"Come on then! We're late, Dorcas' lot will probably already be there!" She called, grabbing Marlene by the hand and pulling her forward. The two girls then broke into a light jog, giggling and tripping over lumps in the grass.

James walked behind with Peter, watching with fondness at his two friends enjoying themselves, looking blithe than he had remembered seeing in a while.

"Come on!"

James chuckled, jerking his head to Peter before breaking into a jog himself until he reached level with the girls.
Esme-Leigh screeched with delight when he wrapped his arms round her waist and hoisted her into the air, spinning her round and laughing with gleeful abandon.
"Come on!" He said into her ear, his voice high and strident in his mockery of hers.

"Je vous déteste!"

His laugh was devilish and it became clear that he didn't believe a word she said...

When they reached their desired meeting spot Esme was proved correct: the other group was already waiting, pushing each other off a gingham picnic blanket and giggling like toddlers left unattended.

"HELLO!" Sirius shouted, breaking into a sprint to overtake Marlene, Esme-Leigh and James in order to reach the group first. He slid, almost gracefully, onto the blanket and took a spot next to Frank.

Dorcas Meadowes laughed, her expression was jovial upon seeing the group looking so equally cheery. The yellow bandana keeping her curly bun from her eyes almost fell off when her head rolled up to the sky in her fits of gaiety.

Lily Simpson looked celestially beautiful in the sun, her hair was plaited on either side of her head and a sun-hat perched on top of her auburn hair also.
"Make an entrance, Black!" She cried, eyes sparkling the same colour as the ribbon on her hat.

"I will thank you," Sirius mimed tipping a hat of his own.

The rest of the marauders had caught up by then and Remus had already begun setting down the boxes of sandwiches, summer fruits and chocolates when Alice Fortescue jumped up to his aid.
"Thank you," he smiled (Remus had a nice smile and many of his friends wished they could see it more often).

Peter and his mother had made the food that morning, once James had sent him an owl telling him their plans to have a picnic with their new friends he immediately offered to cater for them, and subsequently spent the rest of the morning in the kitchen, buttering bread, baking brownies and picking fruit from his garden.

The party seemed to enjoy his efforts and so it was worth it. James and Lily were still bickering, soft smiles on their faces now as it seemed they didn't really mean it anymore; Dorcas was throwing blackcurrants at Marlene who was trying to catch them in her mouth; Remus and Sirius were well engaged in conversation with Alice and Frank about their relationship and all the while Esme-Leigh was fluctuating vivaciously around the party, by no means restricting her affections to one half of the group. She filtered around the rest of them with friendliness and ease; ruffling Frank's dirty blonde hair; feeding Alice chocolate dipped strawberries; adjusting Dorcas' yellow hairband when it slipped and tracing the freckles sprinkled along Lily's shoulders.

The day proved to be wonderful for all parties involved; most even got a form of light entertainment while spectating the wars of Lily Simpson and James Potter...

"Only if you admit you love me?" James winked (rather delectably in her opinion) and grinned when her expression went adorably sour.

"I'd sooner be dead than admit that!"

"But then you wouldn't get the last word!" He replied, faking scandal and almost breaking character in a ebullient laugh; if there was one thing James had learnt over the course of knowing Lily, it was that she would outlive any god in attempt to secure the last word.

"He knows you too well already!" Dorcas mused, nudging her best friend and sharing a look with Marlene who wore a similar expression.

"He's a fantastic judge of character." Esme stated, her tone sarcastic and but her beautiful face appearing in all seriousness as she crawled in between him and Sirius, resting her head in his lap and admiring how he cast the perfect amount of shade over her cheeks, "I mean, look at his choice in best friends!"

James looked down at her with disbelief.
"Unbelievable. Even for you, that was bad."

Lily looked away, as though it embarrassed her to see Esme-Leigh's smile if it belonged to James...

"I've got an idea!" Alice cried once the picnic food had long since disappeared and they'd been sharing a short lapse in constant conversation.
She turned to Frank and tapped his shoulder, "tag!" And she sprinted away into the meadow, leaving him no choice but to chase her and the rest of them no choice but to run also.

Frank was reasonably fast for a shorter boy and he found it easy enough to catch Alice, who had become determined to catch Marlene.

"I'd forgotten how stressful this is!" She hollered, using James as a shield while she ran like a maniac away from her new friend. Marlene and James had used to play tag with the Muggle children near their estates and had many shared memories of darting around like headless chicks!

"How'd you think I feel?!" Sirius called back, seconds before Alice turned on him and he found himself sprinting away.
Taking pity on him, Remus offered his hand and they took off together through the meadow, still giggling and laughing like a romantic comedy film.

Sometimes all it took to make the outside world melt away was a childish game in the sunshine. Similarly, James learned that day, that all it took to plant the seeds of doubt in one's mind was a little bit of magic...

He and Lily were the furthest away from the group, crouched in a patch of wildflowers and surveying the rest of them scamper in search of them.
"How long do you reckon it'll take for them to notice?"

"Longer than I'd thought originally," James replied in a murmur, making Lily strain her ears to hear him.
"I spoke too soon– look," he gestured to Marlene, Dorcas and Alice who had begun to search the grass for something.

"Shit."

James laughed at this, "you're fantastic aren't you?"

"Shut up, Potter." But an angelic smile betrayed her and again she looked away, pulling her hat down across her blushing complexion.
"Come on!"

Lily stood up and gestured for James to follow, there was a huddle of trees that they could take refuge in.
"Are you coming?"

James nodded, looking as though he'd just snapped out of a dream; this time not a dream of dominos but a dream of red hair, sun hats and wildflowers.
He stood, immobile, for a moment and surveyed her walking away from him, her dress whipped around her knees in the wind and she had to hold her hat down when the breeze threatened it's ejection.

That was when he noticed it.

The flowers.

The small bluebells, daisies and buttercups that peppered the grass and danced in the wind seemed to be changing. Their colour became malleable whenever Lily's shoes came near, she was making a path of colour changing flowers wherever she walked.

Curious. He thought. But perhaps not.

Finally he saw her. Really saw her...

He'd always wondered where she'd got to.

♣ ♣ ♣

(8th August 1977)

James was found reading a volume in the Potter's library on that august mid-morning (although reading was perhaps a generous term. He was thinking while watching a book. He hadn't turned a page the last ten minutes).

Sirius smirked when he noticed that the book was clearly for show.
"Mate?"

No reply from James.

"Prongs!"

Nothing.

"JAMES!"

"WHAT?!"

"I know you weren't actually reading that."

He frowned, saving his breath from asking for a further explanation.

"Because it's Babity Rabbity and it's upside down."

James pulled the book away from his nose to examine the cover.
"Ah. So it is."

All of a sudden there was a new voice in the mix.
"What's all the laughing about? Did Sirius' mother get eaten by a snake?"

"We can but hope," Sirius replied wistfully, "No, it's just James being an idiot— No change there. I just came to remind him of the date."

"Which is?" James inquired with a flare of curiosity. He'd begun to lose count of the days after his mother died. They all just seemed to blend into one.

"August the eighth."

"Shit!"

Marlene bit down a laugh, "don't worry I've not got anything either. We'll swing by Diagon Alley on our way to Esme-Leigh's. Although I don't have any money so we might need to go back to my mum and Steven's"

James shook his head, shrugging the suggestion off; "rubbish. I'll cover you and you can pay me back the first day you bugger off back home!" His tone was playful and sarcastic and his bright eyes gave away the fact there was little truth in his words.

"Excuse me?! I am a wonderful tenant in this house!"

"Yeah, when you don't steal my fucking toothbrush!" He'd put the book down now and tried to pounce on Marlene who was now doing her best to pry herself free from his tight grasp.

"I only take it when mine goes missing! And it's not like I don't use a cleaning charm!"

"And why is your toothbrush always missing?"

Sirius fixed his eyes innocently on the floor (which lasted all of a second before it was met with a shit-eating grin): "that was me. I've been hiding your toothbrush."

"WHAT?! WHY?!" (Both simultaneously).

"Because I'm Sirius Black and I get copious amounts of joy out of causing minor –and major– inconvenience whenever I see fit."

James had let go of Marlene in the melee and so he was free to shrug, "I suppose that's true enough."

♣ ♣ ♣

(8th August 1977 continued)

When the party of three arrived in Bristol they found a pair of high-tops already by the door next to Esme's shoes.

"Remus must be here already." Sirius noted, nodding down at the shoes.
It was just like Sirius to pick up on the sort of (if not exact) type of shoe Remus could be found wearing. He had somehow always had a talent for noticing the little things about Remus that others didn't quite see. Sirius saw it all.

They filed in the door, waving to Vianne Bisset before finding themselves in the living room.
Sirius was right, Remus was already there; he sat on the couch with an arm around Esme's shoulders as they watched the muggle tv in the middle of the room, quite contented in each other's peace.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Cried Marlene, throwing herself on top of the two others in order to embrace her best friend, her newly seventeen best friend.

"Hmpf!" Esme-Leigh groaned while Remus rejoiced in the fact his ribs did not have any collateral damage inflicted on them like he guessed they might.

"Enough! We've got the places to be! Firewiskey to drink! Things to do!" Sirius began to flounce around the room, causing an awful lot of upset to the ornaments perched on the sideboard.

"Not before Esme gets her gifts!" Marlene assured, sounding rather like an apprehending professor. She managed to struggle off the couch in order to fetch the modest pile of presents they'd collected.

Just as the bundle was placed in Esme's lap, Peter chose his moment to come bursting in the door and place his own gift on top.

"Better late than never I suppose," James shrugged with a smirk towards his tardy friend.

The first package was tied with string and wrapped handsomely in newspaper. The little label read: happy birthday, Esme! All my love, Moony
She opened it carefully, she had always been the type to appreciate good wrapping and never wished to ruin it.
"Remus! These are my favourite ones!" Esme cried, grinning up at him and displaying a box of honeycomb chocolate for the rest to see. She reached her arms out and beckoned him over to embrace her; but he had grown a considerable amount over the summer and Esme-Leigh stayed seated on the plush couch pillow. It was awkward but welcome.

Thus followed the rest of them. Peter's gift was baked cookies, Sirius' a collection of colour changing pin badges, and Marlene had gifted her a new bottle of her favourite perfume. James's gift, however, had a note attached reading; open this later, when you're on your own. Happy birthday, love James.

♣ ♣ ♣

(8th August 1977 continued)

The stream that ran along the Cokeworth landscape gave the whole setting a rather amiable flare. The sun was still high in the sky and it beat down on the stream in such a way that one might blind themselves in its grace.
It seemed the perfect spot to spend the day and drink the firewiskey that Sirius had brought (where he had procured the product, he refused to disclose).

Three of them shared a cigarette, the other three didn't seem to care to much for it, more interested by the process of getting drunk than enjoying it, although they certainly did.

They laughed, and joked, and tickled, and giggled, and ran, and chased, and drank the day away until the stream glowed orange and the sun began to loose patience with the night.
Marlene lit some little orbs of various colours and they began to dance around them too.

They had just been about to quit the little sanctuary in favour of somewhere they could play a decent game of marauders dares before they heard some footsteps and faint laughing.

"The lights!" Remus hissed, waving his wand at them drunkenly, trying to put them out but only ended up turning one into a pink firework.

"Shit, Moony!" Marlene cried, before putting them out herself, with a little more hassle than it had taken to put them on due to her intoxication.

The approaching voices began to become more and more familiar with time until it was clear exactly who they were.
Lily Simpson and Dorcas Meadowes appeared into view.

Marlene gasped (then hiccuped), "my girlfriend!"
There was a stream separating them and so James had to grab her round the middle and pull her back before she wandered into the lake in attempt to reach Dorcas.

"You're drunk?!"

"Well of course we're drunk!" Sirius sounded as though the question were the most obvious and futile thing he had ever heard, and that he was personally offended to have heard it.

"What's this all in aid of?" Lily inquired, a hand rested on her hip and her eyebrow quirked skywards.

"It's my birthday!" Esme-Leigh grinned innocently, completely impervious to the change in colour of her hair.
James, however, looked mortified as he grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her out of sight. She screamed and tumbled onto the floor, bringing James with her and they hit the grass with a thud.

"Oh god above..." Lily tittered, rolling her eyes and ignoring the funny sort of twist in her gut that she decided to call anger.
"Where do you suppose the deepest part of the stream is?"

"Why?"

She wandered to the nearest edge of the water and peered over, "because I'm thinking of drowning myself. There's some stones over here," she kicked them passively, "I think I'll do it Ophelia style."
Dorcas snorted and Remus looked visibly upset (or maybe just a little bit drunk).

"I'll check!" Sirius cried, skipping towards the stream with abandon just as Esme and James had untangled themselves.

"NO!"

There was a loud splash and several colourful curses before, a slightly defeated sounding; "I'm okay!"

♣ ♣ ♣

(10th August 1977)

A dreamless sleep was often portrayed with an element of sinisterness in literature and other respects. James, however, could think of nothing more sweet.

A dreamless sleep represented not only the absence of a dream, but of a nightmare. Since his mother's funeral he hadn't seen another domino, nor felt another marble slab, nor heard a cutting shatter as they hit the ground at every possible and impossible angle.

A dreamless sleep was a blessing rather than an omen. It was peaceful, not malicious and something for which he had one girl to thank...

It had been with Lily's company that sent his demons back to their lair. Her touch, her laugh, her kind, adoring eyes had brought James a blanket of safety he'd never experienced. She'd brought him home. Dragged him from the dominos and placed him back on earth.

She had told him how often she cerebrated the realm of dreams and how she never quite knew what they meant. Dreams, to Lily Simpson, seemed to be a currency, an art form. She gave the simplest, minacious and mundane things in life a purpose to fulfil. With Lily in his life he need never be lost again; he need never have a broken heart.

He had come to realise that a heart could be a temperamental thing, like glass: once it was broken the worst damage was done.
And while Lily was incapable of mending broken glass she could help soften the edges so when he tried to pick them back up he wouldn't get cut. She was incapable of mending broken glass but perhaps she could protect the shards from his demons; his dominos...

♣ ♣ ♣

(10th August 1977 continued)

Dear James and Sirius,

I hope this letter reaches you in decent health. I picked up this pen as soon as I saw the article about your mother in The Prophet. She was an outstanding woman from the times I'd met her and the things I'd read before.
Of course I've had to keep my admiration of her under relative hush, given my parents are both Notts. They just about managed not to kill me for being a Gryffindor so I hate to imagine what they would say if they knew my best friend was muggleborn and I found a hero in your mother. (In fact, I'm starting to see the benefits of being forced out the MPP).

I've been spending time in Newcastle with my uncle this past week (and taking solace in the fact Aliona lives here too) and I've bumped into your father flooing in and out around the area. It's admirable that he's still working to find those missing children, your parents really are fantastic people.

Anyway, I more wanted to enquire how the two of you are? Was the funeral alright? And how well are you adjusting to life now? It's bound to be a big change but I find it's helpful to take comfort in the inspirational life that Euphemia Potter lived. She did no much for Muggles in the Magical Peace Process and I know from speaking to Aliona that she's had a massive impact on the class protection of muggleborns in Hogwarts and the Ministry.
All I'm trying to highlight is that she did not die in disgrace or vain. She was a wonderful woman and shall be remembered as such.

I'd also like to thank you both for everything you tried to do for me on the last week of our sixth year term. I understand that my hearing was a lot –especially on top of the review of the MPP– but I didn't get the chance to properly express my gratitude for you trying anyway, Esme and Jasmine too.
Being removed from the MPP was probably the best I could have hoped for and although I'm devastated, I hate to think of what the outcome might have been hadn't you shown me such kindness and I can't wait to hear of the MPP's further achievements next term.

With that I think I'll leave you, lest I bore you both to tears! Aliona is bound to write you as well so I would expect a letter from her also (although she tends to keep her letters short so don't be offended if her prose resembles a telegram. I've just been taught to craft letters the pureblood way as I'm sure the two of you have as well).

Endless gratitude and well wishes,

Your dear friend,
Trudy Niamh Imogen Nott

James smiled at the letter his father had handed him, Trudy's writing was curved and delightfully neat, perfectly expected of such a highly esteemed pureblood witch. But he appreciated the gesture more than the penmanship. To note that friends outside his usual group were thinking of him, and had admired his mother was more than he could have asked for. Trudy had always been a kind creature with a talent for patching up problems and, in a sense, James pitied her for being confronted with a problem she couldn't fix.

"She told me she was going to owl it to you when she met me in the street," Fleamont explained as they sat together, "She seemed a delightful girl, absolutely tiny, but a ray of sunshine from what I could gather. And she's got the sweetest way of speaking, she's the Nott's girl isn't she?"

James nodded.
"Irish. Just outside Dublin, I think."

"That's it. I couldn't place her for a while," Fleamont seemed to have grown steam since he'd gotten back to work. He'd often called graft the best form of medicine and he was proving his own sermons with his work in Newcastle.
"I've got you another one too. It's on my desk if you want to fetch it. This one was from a redhead, Geordie this time so she was from the area. Said her name was... Ali?... something like that?"

Again, James smiled, "Aliona. You wouldn't know her, she's a muggleborn."

"Ah. She seemed pleasant?"

Prongs averted his eyes and did his best not to blush, "I'd always thought so."

Marlene seemed to enjoy choosing her moments perfectly because she elected to jog into the living room waving a piece of parchment above her head that second.
"What's a letter from James' ex-girlfriend doing on your desk, Monty?" (Similar to Euphemia, her husband had also acquired an endearing nickname from his son's childhood friend).

"Ex-girlfriend, eh?" Fleamont raised a grey eyebrow at his son, the ghost of a smirk hidden somewhere, mainly seeping from his eyes.

James still refused to meet his father's eye, but he had no problem sending Marlene a perilous glare before snatching the letter out her hands.

Trudy was right, Aliona preferred to keep her letters shorter and so what he held in his hand was considered a novella by her standards. It read reasonably well in a more rounded and singular pen than Trudy's; a trait which he assumed must come from a lack of cursive lessons in pubescence.

Dear James,

First of all I know some people might find it odd to receive a letter from their ex-girlfriend but I think you know me well enough to understand that no ulterior motives are at play as I write this to you.

The reason for my writing, as I'm sure you've guessed, is to tell you how very sorry I am to hear of Euphemia Potter's passing. She was a very kind lady and was always very pleasant to me whenever I met her (even after we broke up) so I can't hold her in any higher esteem.
Her Peace Process was beyond inspiring and I'm sure Darren McKinnon will continue to make a spankingly good job of continuing its legacy.

I hope you, Sirius and Marlene are all doing well. I know that Sirius has been living with you and from what I've heard Marlene is difficult to get rid of! I remember her popping in and around Potter Manor that Christmas holiday I came to visit. Give them both a hug from me, please, until I can do that myself at the beginning of next month.

Look after yourself too. I know it's easy to let things slide around you (I lost my grandmother last year) but it's important to keep on top of yourself. Tidy your room every once in a while instead of using a house elf, or cook something for your family. I don't know, just make sure you don't get lazy otherwise it's difficult to stop.

Sending endless love until I see you again,
Yours,
Aliona S. Connolly xx

"Well? What's it say?"

"Yeah! Anything interesting?"

He shook his head but couldn't do much to disguise the small smile prying at the corner of his mouth.
He was studying both letters tenderly when he saw one disappear from under his nose.
"Hey—"

Marlene was grinning maliciously, her eyes gleaming with the same sort of look he'd seen Sirius wear all too often.
"Sending endless love until I see you again," she made in an unreasonably high pitched tone of voice, "yours Aliona S. Cono—"

"Will you give it a rest?! Merlin above!" He reclaimed the letter and sent his friend a murderous glare that almost kickstarted a revaluation of Marlene's life choices.

"Children!"

That was all it took to shut the both of them up, but I'd did not put an end to the facial expressions they were pulling at each other which made the two dissenters worthy of their collective name: children.

(15th August 1977)

Marlene and Dorcas strolled perfunctorily along the high street of Cokeworth on a rather slow looking afternoon. Nothing thrilling seemed to be happening and the usual bustle of a Friday afternoon in the summer holidays was not living up to its usual standards.

Most cafes were occupied, but only by one or two residents and even then they tended to be elderly or in infancy. It was the sort of tranquil scene that made Dorcas glad they didn't live in London. Marlene had defended the bustle of such a place with her whole heart, maintaining that there was nothing better than to be surrounded by excitement and diversity at all given times of the day; she had told Dorcas all about her preference of her holidays home to her usual estate in Bath. (Marlene's clear abundance of money had never intimidated Dorcas, although the abandon of which she described her riches did little to do anything less than perturb her, perhaps even startle her.)

But despite Marlene's protesting, her girlfriend had grown attached to life in Cokeworth, a pedestrian town with very little animation but an abundance of handsome spots and corners to hide. Cokeworth, even in its town centre, was just marvellously subtle in such a way that Dorcas had always fallen in love with it. She might not have had a garden, thanks to a fifth floor flat, but she was by no means deprived of greenery. Cokeworth was a garden, a meadow and she liked it for more than its namesake.

"Why don't you choose?" Marlene asked her after a while of strolling along the streets, perusing the menus of various bistros and cafes in search of somewhere with decent ice cream.

"Because I know where all the good spots are and it's no fun if we just visit the same places all the time!" She replied; the thought of ice cream had begun tormenting her; even with shorts and a thin, flounce sleeved top, she felt overwhelmingly hot.

"That's all well and good, but what if I chose somewhere that laces their ice cream with... I dunno... drugs! What then?" She seemed overjoyed with herself at finding an ending to her sentence.

"Then it'll be awfully cheap narcotics if we payed for ice cream as well. It can't be cost effective for either business because regardless of which one you name, one of the two pieces of merchandise would be administered to the customer for free."

Marlene's laugh sounded miles better than Dorcas' favourites song. It was radiant and euphonious and well spoken in such a way that it might have been mistaken for a melody.
"Lovely, you talk so much shite in the most adorable way possible!"

Dorcas squeezed her hand and stifled a giggle, "I'm a prodigy, Mar."

"I know."

It was precisely that moment that they saw a familiar character round the corner out of a near by book shop; her glossy black hair still swayed as she walked with unmatchable tenacity.

She might have walked straight by them, if it wasn't for Marlene's exclamation: "Jazzy?!"

Jasmine Sempere whipped her head around to face her old friend, sending a pair of glasses askew on her nose (Marlene noticed that they weren't the same ones as she'd graduated with).
"No way?! Marlene McKinnon! What are you doing here I thought you lived in Bath?"

The Hogwarts alumni reached out and embraced her friend with great enthusiasm, just beginning to overcome the initial shock.

"I do live in Bath, but my girlfriend doesn't." Marlene put a hand on the small of her girlfriend's back to guide her forward, as if she were presenting her, or showing her off. "This is Dorcas Meadowes. Dorks, this is Jasmine Sempere, she graduated from my boarding school last year."

Dorcas smiled as radiantly as she could manage, tucking a bunch of tight curls behind her ear to avoid such a smouldering gaze that seemed to belong to Jasmine.

"So you're Marlene's girl? I've heard a lot about you!– and feel free to call me Jazzy: most people do."

"Thank you, Jazzy," she put a point on the new word as she tried it out on her lips.

"So, what brings you to Cokeworth?" Marlene pressed, now he two strangers were acquainted.

"Official business I'm afraid. It's not at all exciting in the real world. I don't recommend graduation at all. It's done nothing for me."

The other two laughed and promptly agreed.
"Anyway, me and Marlene were looking for a good place to get ice cream. Do you fancy coming?"

Jasmine's forehead creased while she glanced at the leather watch on her wrist.
"I'm just about done for the day. I don't see why not?"

Dorcas grinned with more radiance than Jasmine had ever seen in a smile before. It was easy to see why Marlene found this girl so charming.

"'Mon then! Marlene's picking the cafe!"

"Isn't that a bit of an odd idea?"

"That's exactly what I said!"

♥ ♥ ♥

(15th August 1977 continued)

There was a small Italian bistro on the corner of the high street that Marlene had chosen after approximately zero careful consideration, although the place turned out to be charming and it's gelato was even better.

Their conversation ran smoothly, mainly concerning a careful yet pleasant enquiry into what Jasmine had been doing with her life since graduation but also heavily featured Dorcas and her life as Jazzy had never met a girl quite as mismatched as Dorcas and she was intrigued to say the least.

Dorcas seemed to have just about every personality trait that a psychologist could strain themselves to name. Each and everything about her was paradox to the next and her expression of these traits seemed to be a highly impressive juxtaposition. And yet despite such madness it was tricky, if not impossible, to fault Dorcas Meadowes.

Eventually, after about half an hour, Dorcas herself began to observe a rigidness in Jasmine's manner. She was by no means impertinent or cold but her smiles gradually became plasticky and exaggerated and her eyes no longer partook in the nicety.

Dorcas could tell something was the matter with their new companion even before Marlene excused herself to the bathroom and left the other two alone in their booth.

Jasmine began to omit a sense of urgency once Marlene was out of sight. She shifted in her seat and avoided the gaze of Dorcas' eyes.

"Dorcas, I—" She cut herself off, as if she had made a mental decision to voice whatever secret she was hiding and had backed out a split second after her lips had made the conscious choice to speak.

"What's the matter?"

"It's..." Jazzy sighed, adjusting her glasses, a neurotic tic, "it's Marlene. I think you should know something."

Dorcas leant forward with curiosity, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin in her hands. She looked perfectly emboldened and Jasmine might even go as far as saying endearing.

"Marlene... well, when we were at school together we were both in this... this club. It's a great club, owned by James Potter –I'm sure you know him too– and well," whatever she was trying to spit out appeared to be giving her a substantial deal of pain.
"Well on the last week of term I told her... –shit– I told her how much I liked her."

Dorcas credited herself on concealing her astonishment. Of course, Marlene had told her she'd been asked out but did not mention a name.

"—and it was nothing more than that! Marlene told me she had a girlfriend and I could tell how much she loves you, I... I just thought you should know."

Dorcas smiled, her face displaying nothing short of perfect tranquil.
"Well then—"

"—there's something else..."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Yes, there's something else. And I think I'm just going to say it, then I shall be gone." She began to gather her jacket from the spare seat and arrange the little things on the table that she'd upset while sitting there; a candle, a flowerpot, a napkin holder.
Once she had finished she stopped abruptly and looked straight at Dorcas, her eyes, she noticed for the first time, were a fantastic honey sort of hazel, they complimented her olive skin and shone like gemstones. It was only then that she noticed why they were glittering so brightly...

They were brimming with tears.

"Dorcas, you're wonderful. Absolutely everything Marlene deserves, and you deserve each other which is why you're likely not to see me again once I leave... because after seeing the two of you together it's made me realise that I'm still half in love.
"I wasn't in love with her before– back when I told her I was fond– my heart didn't really break because it wasn't fully her's to begin with. But now... seeing all this," she gestured around the table vacantly, a tear rolling down her face and hitting the napkin on front of her.
"Seeing it all makes me realise that if my heart didn't break then, it might just do so now. I was half in love with Marlene when I told her so, and I'm still half in love now. I don't want to find out if two halves make a whole so before she comes back I'm saying goodbye."

Jasmine dabbed her gemstone eyes and sighed, something about her looked out of character. Clearly she was not the sort of woman to cry in front of strangers.
"Thank you for being so kind to me, Dorcas. Please look after her, won't you?"

The other girl smiled, as warmly as she could and nodded her head.
"I'll look after her with my life. Don't worry about that." She stood as well, offering her arms for a short hug; Jasmine smelt like cigarettes and coffee.
"I don't want to imagine what it's like for you and I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to say. But I've got a friend, my best friend, and she told me something once: before I met Marlene, I had been in love with a girl. And when I told her I loved her the girl burst into tears; suddenly she'd become a stranger to homophobia and I never saw her again. Lily on the other hand, had been there with me while I cried. And she told me something that I won't ever forget in a hurry: she said that 'hearts can only break once. The rest are just scratches,' and ever since she's told me that I've realised I can be invincible. Because a person can't break twice. Nothing can break twice. And so I'm sure you can't either."

Jasmine's heart did not break on the spot. It swelled with a surge of admiration and esteem that made it now impossible to ever think ill of the girlfriend to the woman she was half in love with. Dorcas had changed Jazzy's outlook on a lot of things that day. She'd managed to save her heart just before it shattered.

As Jasmine walked away into the evening, her glossy hair trailing behind her and her like eyes bleeding diamonds, she realised that two halves did not make a whole. They just made her stronger.

(20th August 1977)

It was odd that Marlene and Dorcas should have run into an old school friend because, as it transpired, Jasmine was not the only former friend that was reunited with their past.

Tristan Devonport was a blonde, aqua eyed and reasonably good looking seventeen year old, who happened to be in the same pub as the two groups of friends on that august night; and he also happened to be Lily Simpson's ex-boyfriend who had moved schools just over a year ago.

He sat on a barstool with his back to the group and listened while Lily argued with one of the boys she had arrived with.

"Please, Potter! You'd have to think I'd gone mental to believe that?!"

"Believe what you will," the other boy replied in a surprisingly polished accent, "I'm just the messenger. Although if you play your cards right it could be more than the post I give you?" He said this with an impish wink and a click of his tongue.

"Oh right? And what would your services include?" Lily retorted, looking perfectly languid and decently at ease with whoever this boy was.

"Whatever you want, love," again he winked in a dishy sort of way.

"No thanks. I wouldn't touch you with a bloody barge pole!"

Tristan had to stop himself from laughing before he gave his game of eavesdropping away prematurely. Unfortunately he still managed to choke on his drink and draw just enough attention to himself that Lily turned round.

"Excuse me are you alri— Tristan?!"

(Feigning surprise) Tristan gasped, "Lily?!"

The redhead laughed and nodded, her smile hadn't faded since he'd last seen her and even in the dingy lighting of the pub her eyes were still tantalising.
"How are you?"

"Oh me?! You know?... the usual."
It was at this point that Lily realised there was no feasible way Tristan had not previously heard her conversation with James and that his whole surprise had been a facade. Unless the boy had deaf, he must have known it was her.
"This is James by the way. James Potter."

The James in question gave a terse nod to Tristan before lighting a cigarette between his teeth.

"I wish you would bloody well stop that!" Lily hissed, trying to snatch the fag out from between his teeth but he was too quick in turning away.

"And why should I listen to you? You're not my mother or my girlfriend."
(Tristan noticed once he'd said the word 'mother' he seemed to deflate a little bit, like he'd just said something unforgivable).

"No, but I can't abide second hand smoke. My father puffs cigars twenty four hours a day and I'm sick of the living room looking like a pea-souper!"

James glanced over Lily's head at Tristan and they shared a look of mutual fondness yet sheer chagrin at the girl between them.
"Then if it offends you so, I shall smoke outside."

"Jolly good then. Off you go!"

"What, now?!"

"Well if you insist on smoking, I can have a chance to catch up with Tristan."

Now James was much less interested in a smoke. He let his eyes wander over the passively attractive Tristan and he seemed less convinced of... everything.

"You know, Tiny Temper, I don't think you introduced me to your... friend."

Lily frowned at him, as if she were trying to puzzle out a particularly trifling maths equation.
"In which case: this is Tristan Devonport. He's my –um– my... ex?"

James Potter's eyes widened to about twice their size (or something similar; his rather thick spectacles and the alcohol he'd consumed played a part in that judgement).
"Really? Splendid."

From what Tristan could gather, James Potter seemed to use the phrase 'splendid' less than commercially, particularly when things were not 'splendid'.

"I'll be having my smoke now," James announced, giving another nod to him and excusing himself to Lily, "I need to pull Sirius away from that random potential hookup."

Once James had managed to redirect a drunk Sirius off another man and back to the safety of the group he stole another glance at Lily and Tristan. They seemed to be getting along absolutely marvellously, much better than he and Lily could manage themselves. Despite that night they agreed to be friends they hadn't been too good at it. Especially now as he saw her in this new light. Flashes of colour changing flowers played through is mind like a broken record player.

Everyone seemed perfect happy; with the exception of Remus who looked just about as peeved as he had when Keegan Trista had corrupted Sirius in their early sixth year, but he didn't look much like he needed company and so James decided to see it last.

He slipped out the pub without much notice or protest from anyone he had arrived with. A list of everything playing in his mind, in his heart.

Colour changing flowers,
Beautiful sunsets,
Her laughing face while another man told her a joke.

It wasn't Tristan Devonport in particular. Lily was perfectly within her rights to spend her time with anyone she deemed appropriate, but he couldn't quite manage to stop that from letting his skin crawl.

How was it that she liked her ex-boyfriend more than him?

James shook his head, endeavouring to knock out the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. Instead he fixated on the one other thing he was adamant he wouldn't think about; what he's said about his mother. He hadn't mentioned anything of the sort since she died, not even in a passing comment, or even in a joke. He noticed Lily tense as well and couldn't help but wonder if that was why she was so glad to get short of him. Perhaps he just wasn't able to get along with her. Maybe it was just an impossible feat to become her friend?

As he trudged down the street alone he wondered if maybe he should just stop trying. Things can't be forced.

This thoughts were almost too preoccupied to notice the night manager strolling his round across the empty street, a hood pulled over his eyes. His unblinking eyes...

A chill made his blood run cold. He walked faster home.

(21st August 1977)

Lily should have been reading her book. It was supposed to be finished before she went back to school in three days time and, like most things, she had pushed it to the last minute. But something was bothering her, it crept into the letters and twisted them round the page and in her stomach.

Where had James gone?

She'd noticed his absence until later that night, once she'd escaped Tristan's company and looked for some amiable companionship to rejoin. James was no where to be seen. Remus told her the last he'd seen him was while dragging Sirius off another equally drunk guy (he did so with a bitter look that Lily tried to forget but couldn't quite) and he'd not been around since.

With James gone things seemed to be awfully prosaic. There wasn't anyone to challenge her quite like him; no one to laugh with that could sound quite so wondrously; no one to call her farcical nicknames and get away with it.
It was the very moment she slipped out the pub into the crisp night air that she realised just how fond of James Potter she really was. Despite their inability not to bicker, his awful smoking habit and that delectable, yet arrogant, smile. (She realised shamefully the juxtaposition of her last statement and saw it fit never to think such a thing again.)

Surely if Tristan hadn't turned up they'd have spent most of the night together –possibly arguing but that was neither here nor there– and so she felt in debt of lost time.

Just like that she'd decided: she would go and see James.
Although with such a gallant decision came a delightful amount of anxieties at the prospect of spending an afternoon in James' company and James' company alone. But these things were overwhelmed by her guilt of making him feel unwelcome and so she found herself outside his door not twenty five minutes later (five minutes to walk to his house and another twenty to shout at her sister).

It was about two-twenty when she knocked on his door and he answered within another minute.
When he saw her at the other end of the door he smiled that beautiful smile of his inquired why she had taken the time to pay him a visit.

"Well I wanted to apologise for Tristan interrupting what was a nice night with our mates. He's a right bastard at the best of times although he hides it well," she let out a breathy laugh, "I just thought I could make it up to you? We're supposed to try and get along now so I wondered if you liked ice cream?" She rolled on the balls of her feet as she spoke and seemed to find herself compulsively pulling down the skater skirt that sat around her knees.

"Well... I am partial to vanilla, now you mention it," he winked, running a hand though his hair and glancing back inside his rather titanic house. (Lily noted that he hadn't opened the door fully and he conducted the conversation in a slightly arcane manner.
"Give me a sec to find my jacket."

When he came back out he wore a light jacket and a pair of trainers. He grinned at her before slipping fully out the door and promptly closing it behind him. From what she saw inside the place looked like almost like a ballroom, but the peculiar thing to her was that the chandeliers seemed to be floating.

♥ ♥ ♥

(21st August 1977 continued)

Lily seemed to know all the best places to get ice cream around Cokeworth. She put it down to the amount of time spent with Dorcas and Alice, scouting the town for new cafes, but today she brought James to her favourite place. While Indulge might have been their favourite cafe, Sun & Stars was by far the best ice cream parlour in the world (according to Lily anyway) and so that was where they found themselves.

In Lily's expert testimony, she thought it was turning out to be a successful day. They had avoided possible subjects which might invoke an altercation (although they had come close to bickering when he insisted on buying both their ice cream sundaes. 'You've see my house, Pipsqueak, I'm hardly short of money as you've been kind enough to remind me over the times.')
And she had respected the sheer shock he expressed upon the knowledge that Dorcas captained no boys in her sports team; he seemed genuinely insulted that their teams were not mixed.

Things had been running smoothly for hours longer than either of them had noticed; there was a purplish abendrot in the sky and fresh wind in the air when the two of then began to walk home. Her arm found its way into his and they fell into a perfect step.

That was about when things began to stop running so smoothly. That was when Lily spotted a familiar face she wished never to see again.

Severus Snape.

Lily gasped and pulled James round a corner, hiding them both from view but it was already too late. He'd seen them both.

He stared in their direction for a longer while than any normal person would deem necessary before scoffing and striding away at top speed.

"Who's that?" James asked her after a little too long to think, she thought he ought to be curious by now and so upon first glance of James' face it was more than clear to her the two knew each other.

"That was my ex-best friend. Severus."
He hummed seeming to be completely lost in his own thought for a few moments.

"James?"

"Wha— yes?"

"Are you alright?"

The light was hitting the side of his face in almost the perfect angle, it cast the right amount of shadow across his features and the glow of the post-sunset skyline was making his eyes glitter a marvellous hazel, but they looked much more golden flecked. She considered asking him to stay there for a while and not move, just so she could look at him for longer.

Maybe she appeared in a similar way in this light because James seemed to be transfixed with something else rather than her words or their encounter with Severus.

"I– yeah. Yes, I'm fine. Dandy." He shook his head and ran a hand through his shock of curls, "shall we go?"

They slipped back out into the street and resumed to walk in the same way they had been before, arm in arm. Lily was mawkishly reminded of the night of James' mother's funeral; the night they sat together and watched the sunset, realising that the world would have to keep turning.

"James?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really alright?"

He paused and they ceased walking though he did not allow her arm to fall from his.
"No. No, I'm not but I'll live. I always do, Lily. That's just how I am."

Something like respect rushed through her veins and into her heart in an instant. She looked at James in that moment and she saw a heart of glass and a wooden club; she saw a house of cards and a gust of wind; she saw a domino that wouldn't fall.
It was there she realised just how important James had become to her. Even if they disagreed, even if he was a little secretive and even if he seemed stiff with popular culture he was truly and completely crucial to her existence.

"James... James can I tell you something?"

"Whatever you like."

They were alone on the street, or so it might seem, and so they talked openly and freely together.
"Dorcas got her heart broken a while ago, before she even met Marlene and I told her something. I'm going to tell you too..." they stood awfully close to be anywhere else but in the moment, "her heart was broken but hearts can only break once –that's the good thing about them– once they break they can only scratch and nothing will ever hurt quite the same. The worst part is over now, all that's left to come are the scratches."

"Lily?" (He rarely called her Lily. Just Lily.)
She nodded expectantly, gazing up at him with benevolent eyes and the shadow of a smile.

"You are absolutely magical. Truly and utterly."

A shiver shouldn't have crossed her spine but it did regardless. Magical he'd said. Magical.

They carried on home in a similar way, everything and nothing passed between them. Like one had known the other for the entire duration of their life; and were perfectly unaware of the figure not so far away. The figure that the moment swept away along with the questions left on both of their lips.

But, unlike the last, this figure did blink. He blinked with eyes as dark as ink. Severus Snape watched until they were out of sight before slipping away into the night.

(1st September 1977)

James Potter stood outside Kings Cross Station; Sirius had gone ahead with his father and Marlene was holding onto Dorcas as though she might transfigure into thin air at any given moment.

"So... this I'm supposed to say goodbye to you now?" Lily asked him awkwardly. Her eyes conveyed something much deeper than the sort of cumbersome awkwardness he saw, something deeper, melancholy.

"I've begun to detest goodbyes." He said, closing his eyes briefly and imagined it was his mother stroking his hair and not just the wind; like she had they day he felt her last breath from her chest.

"I know. But I'd like to hug you, if that's alright?"

James snapped back to alertness and looked down at her, she looked to be deadly serious and yet he couldn't help but wonder if she was kidding.

Lily. Lily, the most beautiful, rancorous, dry and fantastic girl he'd ever come across. Lily, the girl who had called him every name under the setting sun as he pestered her. Lily, the girl that had been there to do the right thing at the right time. The girl that had rested her head on his shoulder and ruined his every thought. Lily. The girl who had taught him to fix his broken heart and never let it break twice.

Eventually he nodded, bending down just enough to pull her into a sweeping hug without her feet coming off the ground.
She was warm in his arms and felt stronger than she looked, it made James adore her imploringly more. Because Lily was not just the girl that kissed his shoulder and kept him afloat with unspoken words, but she was also the girl who could ruin his life with a look; render him speechless with a single word; beat him at just about anything and claim his broken and scratched heart as the prize.

And she wasn't the answer to his woes. He knew she wasn't but she helped, and James could tell that she had her own scratches –he didn't know what they were– but he could feel them in her embrace so he held her tightly and tried to take them away.

When she pulled away from him it was impossible not to feel overcome with reluctance but she smiled in consolation and his opinion was soon changed. When Lily smiled it was like the twinkling of a star, or the climax of a symphony, or the final page of your favourite book.
Looking at her smile, James came to notice that Lily was not graced with beauty. Beauty was graced with her.

"Oh– I almost forgot!" He interrupted his own train of thought as he begun to reach into his pocket, "I've got something for you."

Her eyes were curious and bright as she watched him search for whatever it was he was looking for.
After a few timorous moments he pulled out a small box.
"Here. It's a good luck charm, and a thank you for... everything."

He felt a little peculiar handing her the box and he wished he could still be hugging her instead.

Inside the box was a necklace; a gold necklace with a little golden ball with gleaming silver wings attached (a golden snitch but she didn't know that and so, as far as she would be concerned, it was a good luck charm). He'd secretly charmed it with a protection spell so whenever it was around her neck she would feel safe. It was simple enough magic and subtle enough for a Muggle not to notice it. If that was his intention.

Lily was quiet for a shade longer than James found bearable before she broke into another of her radiant, stomach-flipping smiles.
"Thank you, James," (she hadn't called him James very often) "it's beautiful."

Like you. "It's nothing. I just wanted to say thank you."

"It's alright. I'd do it for anyone."

Exactly. That was the best part.

"I know but... just, thank you."

Lily pulled her hair to one side of her neck and James watched in awe as it seemed to dance with the fire in the sun as she attached the snitch around her neck.
When she looked back up she caught his eyes directly and watched them shimmer with all sorts of feelings he didn't know how to express and do them an ample amount of justice.

"You're not as bad as I thought, James. Not at all."

He grinned, "well I'm glad to hear it."
She laughed. Her laugh sounded like what he imagined sunbeams would sound like if they had a voice.

A bell chimed within the station and the two of them turned towards the sound with a growing amount of reluctance.

"You should go."

He stared for a moment longer, wondering what life would be like if she came with him.

Where she belonged.

"I know."
He reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before beginning to walk away into the station, away from Lily and the worst, yet most incredible summer of his life.

Just before he was out of sight he turned around to get one last glance. Lily was looking down at the necklace he'd given her, he could just make out a soft smile on her freckled features.

"Lily." He whispered, laughing lightly as he watched her begin to set off home.

Lily Evans.

(1st September 1977)

"So are you friends with Lily Simpson now?"

Sirius had posed a simple question and yet it seemed to hold much more depth than he intended it to.

Millions of things crossed James' mind, memories, words, looks, touches, feelings... the answer seemed to stare him in the face and still he couldn't quite say it.

"I... I hope so."

Sirius grinned, even in the moonlight it was easy to make out that same shit-eating grin he'd worn since he was about thirteen.
James always thought Sirius looked his happiest when he was grinning maliciously –which might have said more about Sirius than James could explain in words– this occasion was no different and he couldn't help but join in a little.

"With your Lily around it's easy to forget about Lily Evans now. You've obsessed over that girl for seven years, you'll be glad to let it go now, eh?"

James wasn't sure if his blood was supposed to run cold of if he should smile at his own sort of inside joke. Because he knew the truth.

And the truth was that he wasn't so sure there was much of a difference after all...

I think this is the longest chapter to date, if not it's very closer with about 12,200 words which I'm decently happy with so it'll do. It's always hard to follow such a big chapter like the last one was!

Extra note: I found this gif on Pinterest and just about died with happiness at how perfect it is to showcase the moment James and Lily had on the roof of the church last chapter!

Until next time I hope everyone is alright!

All my love,

Abbi ♥️