That green eyes,
You're the one that I wanted to find
And anyone who tried to deny you
Must be out of their mind
--Green Eyes, Coldplay
~*~
Sirius woke to a banging on his door. Glancing at the clock, he growled, "Go away!" He shouted at the door, promptly lying back down.
"Sirius, let me in!" James shouted, giving the door another heart bang.
By the sound of James's tone, there was no way he'd be letting Sirius get a moment's more sleep. Grumbling, he dragged himself to the bed, trailing to the door with still-exhausted movements before finally yanking it open. "Bloody hell, James," he yawned out, "its three o'clock in the morning; bugger off, will ya?"
But James pushed past his best friend, stalking into the room to drop into a large armchair seated near the window. "I need help, Padfoot."
Sighing, Sirius shut the door and loped back to his bed, which he plopped unceremoniously onto. "Go annoy Moony, I need my beauty sleep."
James didn't seem to hear. "I made her cry, Sirius. But I was right, I know I was. I just… I made her cry. Oooh," he moaned, dropping his face into his hands, "Evans is going to hate me forever."
"Come back if you learn anything new," Sirius grumbled.
He glanced up to glare at his best friend. "Thanks for the words of comfort and understanding, mate."
"I'm being serious, is all. She hates you as it is, your shouting match dropped you to about negative three-hundred-million points in her book, and you can't make it much worse. I'd console you or whatever, but I think you need to give up on Evans. She's not worth it, Prongs." Sirius's head fell back towards the pillow. "What did you say to her, anyway?"
James shrugged, "I dunno. I told her she was always cutting people up, and that she needed to stop doing it. I told her she needed to stop fighting me."
There was a lengthy pause, during which Sirius considered his next words carefully. "I dunno, mate. Truth is, she is always cutting you into dog meat. Maybe it's good that she finally learn that she isn't an angel, either."
"I made her cry," James whispered. "I never make her cry, just yell, or turn red, or storm off. I made her cry…"
"C'mon, James, buck up. Maybe it's a sign that she finally understood or something," Sirius was lying, but it didn't sound like too bad of an idea. "Maybe what you said hit her."
"Yeah, maybe." He sighed and ran a hand through his wind battered hair. "I guess I'll find out just how angry she is tomorrow, aye?" James stood up, walking back over to the door, but halting as his hand rested on the doorknob. "Thanks, Padfoot." With that note, he left, deciding to go for another long, emotionally dimmed run as Prongs.
~*~
Lily awoke early that morning, despite the fact that she was already completely packed for the trip to Hogwarts. However, there was no way she was going to fall asleep again, not with the amount of time it had taken last night. Walking to her closet, she slipped into a pair of jeans and a forest green, form fitting t-shit. Drawing a brush through her frizzy scarlet waves, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, considering the things James had said last night. I don't understand… I don't 'throw people away'. I have plenty of people close to me. Sort of… Well, not really. But that's because they're all prats! Like James Bloody Potter, and his little speeches. Telling me I couldn't keep fighting him. I mean, he started it! He was staring at me! He's got no right to scold me. He's the one who dragged me away from my home for no reason! And he won't tell me why! And he was staring at me!
Lily's denial of her faults concluded, she stuffed her feet into a pair on tennis shoes and grabbed her trunk, fully intending to lug it all the way to the main room. However, a moment later a roar spread through the entire house. "What the-damn it!"
Following this loud statement, which Lily was sure emerged from Potter, was the sound of footsteps. It took her only a second to realize they were running towards her corridor, then stopping in front of her door, and then, Oh no, what now…?, James burst into her room.
However, he did not look at all as she had expected. He was barefoot, the belt holding his dark jeans unbuckled, and his scarlet 'Go Gryffindor' shirt clearly just thrown on. He brandished something in the air, a letter, she assumed. Then asked, his voice filled with a deadly quiet, "When did you get your Head Girl letter, Evans?"
She turned back to her room, casting a glance around in order to ensure that she had left nothing behind. "Why assume I'm Head Girl?"
"Because it's bloody obvious; just tell me when."
Oh, she had almost forgotten the stuffed elephant that had been tossed from the bed! "Why?" she asked dryly, not in the mood for his questions.
He stepped forward, gripping her and spinning her forcefully to meet him. His hands were digging into her arms, as if gripping onto life itself. His eyes, which had always seemed so mischievous, were now overwhelmed with a loathing anguish. "Just tell me, Evans," he rasped out.
She winced as his hands cut deeper into her. "Two weeks ago, if you must know. Now let go of me, will you, that hurts!"
He let go of her as if she was fire, his face falling dramatically. "Oh no," he was mumbling, "oh no, no, no, no, no!"
He whirled, sticking his head out the doorframe to shout, "Moony, where's the Prophet!"
"It's late, Prongs!" Was the answering shout, causing James to turn back towards Lily, ashy. For a moment she thought he was storming towards her, but instead halted before her fireplace. Pulling a handful of floo from a nook she hadn't known was there, he tossed it into the fire and called, "Dumbledore!"
Tension filled seconds passed by, before Dumbledore's head was suddenly swimming in the flames. "Yes, James?" he asked, blue eyes solemn as he glanced up at the arms-crossed, glaring boy.
"What happened?" He asked, waving the letter.
Dumbledore sighed, glancing towards Lily. "Are you sure you would like Miss Evans in the room? I presume you haven't told her of present… circumstances."
"She'll be fine; Merlin knows she's dying for answers anyway."
"I'm standing right here, y'know," Lily said curtly, intrigued despite her tone.
The headmaster, or rather his head, turned to stare up at James. "The inevitable happened."
James moaned, dropping to his knees on the plush green carpet, raking his hand through his hair. "How many?"
"Seventeen," James growled, dropping his face towards the floor, "It might have been more, but I did help those that I could. You did too, James. Don't blame yourself…"
"DeSabre is dead, Dumbledore, I know he is." Lily gasped behind him, finally beginning to understand. "He's dead, and I couldn't do anything. He wasn't such a bad bloke, either, once you got past the creepy tendency he had to burst into random Spanish. Now he's dead…"
"Who else?"
They both glanced towards Lily, where she stood, silently clutching a stuffed elephant to her chest. "Who else was… lost?"
Dumbledore frowned, sadly, and listed the names. "DeSaber and his younger brother, who would have been a first year. Delia and Danielle Barnheart, Joanna Bones, Ellis and Jeremy Adkins, and Beatrice, Bill, and Derek Benson were killed in the fighting. We lost Joshua Burns and Julia Summers in St. Mungo's. The others they won't tell me, because they weren't Hogwarts students."
James and Lily were silent, heads bowed. Tears coursed down Lily's cheeks as she buried her head in the elephant. She wept, bitterly, for those lost. The minutes dragged on, while she struggled to stop the sobs, and found they could not be halted. As torrents of tears poured down her face, strong, protective arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her. She didn't care if it was Potter; at that time, he was someone strong, and familiar, and she promptly buried her wet face into his chest, scarlet waves washing around her and plastering themselves to her with her tears.
James tentatively raised his hand, allowing it to stroke her hair soothingly. "Shh, Lily, it'll be alright. You'll be okay. Don't worry Lils, I'm right here. Just cry, don't worry about it, just cry." As James continued his soft, whispered words accompanied by the gentle ministrations of his hand Lily slowly began to calm. Her sobs drew down to a series of random hiccups, tear streaked face drawing slowly away from his chest. However, she did not pull away, allowing his arms to remain curled around her comfortingly.
"That's two Gryffindors, five Ravenclaws, and four Hufflepuffs; what happened to Slytherin?" James asked from above her, his voice cold with hatred.
"There were no attacks on Slytherins, at least not any reported. James, that does not give you leave to go murder Severus. He was not a part of this." Lily had no doubt that James would have done just that, but he wilted under Dumbledore's stern gaze.
"Fine," he muttered, "but that still doesn't explain the letter. DeSaber would have been Heady Boy, I know that. We lost him to those bloody savages. It still doesn't mean you can give the position to me. Look at my record, it's definitely not picture perfect."
"We don't need grades, James. Hogwarts needs talent, originality, and leadership skills; all of which you posses a great deal of. And no, you are not allowed to refuse." There was a pause, "You must begin soon, James. Or your time may run out."
"Tell them I'm working on it, okay? At the moment, I have to finish packing."
Dumbledore nodded and vanished from the fire, leaving James to glance down to the slender figure still held within his arms. "You okay, Lily?" He was speaking gently, not wanting her to suddenly grow angry with him, but fearing it all the same.
"No, but I'll live." She drew herself out of his arms, glancing down at the floor while his hazel eyes swept apprehensively over her. "I wouldn't have, would I?"
"What?"
"I wouldn't have lived, if I hadn't been here. Petunia wouldn't have, either. That's why I didn't come, and you didn't say anything because you didn't want to worry me."
"Yea," he was expecting a blow up; some shout as to why he hadn't thought her able to handle it, or how he could have warned her of the news. James braced himself for it, hands clenched tightly at his sides.
She looked up, emerald orbs still glistening with unleashed liquid, "Thanks."
He flinched back, realized what she had said, and gaped. Shaking himself internally, he managed to mutter, "Yeah, er, you're welcome." Turning, he promptly dashed out of the door, leaving Lily alone and in tears for the second time.
~*~
James sat silently in his seat aboard the Hogwarts Express, staring distantly at the expanse of meadows as they rushed by, lost in his thoughts. I don't understand you, Evans. One minute you're about ready to hex my head off, and the next you're thanking me for protecting you. It doesn't make any sense. Curse whoever had to make women so complicated.
"Hey, Padfoot," Remus nudged Sirius, "what's with Prongs? He hasn't said a word the whole train ride."
Sirius glanced up from their list of various hexes, curses, and charms that they would need to learn for a certain, rather fantastic prank currently being planned. James was still staring, eyes vague, and Sirius had no doubt as to why. "It's Evans problems, Moony. Don't you know 'em when you see 'em?"
Remus frowned, turning back to face the list. "I think it's more than that. Something's felt wrong since we got on the train, like something's… missing. I have a feeling Prongs knows what it is, and won't tell us."
Sirius shrugged, "I'm still betting on Evans problems. Apparently they got in a huge fight, after the first one, and he made her cry." Sirius sighed, "Poor bugger, he's in love with her."
Remus nodded; secretly surprised that Sirius was so perceptive. An idiot would know James' affection for Lily, but not many would call it love. However, at least in the two Marauder's minds, there was no doubt.
"What's the incantation for that spell again?" Peter asked, jabbing at the parchment. Remus promptly switched his focus, and they launched into a discussion on some of the more complicated spells.
Nearly a half an hour later, James glanced down at his watch, surprised at the time. "Damn," he murmured, standing and causing all eyes to suddenly turn to him. "Sorry, I gotta go."
"Go where?" Remus questioned as James moved towards the compartment door.
Prongs searched his pocket, then dragged out a pin and stuck it neatly on his robes. "Head compartment, me 'n Evans have to do the whole fifth-year-prefect initiation thing."
"You're Head Boy and you didn't tell us?" Remus's brows were drawn together, confused.
"Only found out this morning, they had to appoint someone else, because DeSaber couldn't make it." James was gone before they could ask why.
"Prongs is Head Boy? Now we'll never get to have any fun!" Sirius cried, tossing his hands dejectedly into the air. A smirk began to form on his face, and suddenly his azure eyes were twinkling with mischief. "No wait! With him as Head Boy, we'll never get into any trouble!"
James strolled slowly down the hallway, palms sweaty with apprehension. What if Lily was upset? What if she had gotten angry again? What if she detested the fact that he had touched her, even if it was only a hug? What if-?
He was through the compartment door, staring at a red-head who was currently quite involved in a rather large book. Lily glanced up at him, and, much to James shock, offered him the tiniest of smiles. "Hey," she whispered, as if it was a struggle to remain calm.
Taking a few steps closer, he noticed her suddenly swallow, and knew she was fighting off tears once more. "Hey," he responded in kind, dropping into the seat next to her. "You okay?"
"Sure," she responded with fake brightness, "why wouldn't I be?"
"Because-"
"Just don't Potter, please. For now, we need to run over what we generally discuss in one of these things, since you've never been to one.
For a moment, Lily thought he was going to protest. But the short, don't-mess-with-me-now glare that she offered him seemed to cancel that idea. "Alright, so what do we do?"
~*~
Lily entered the Great Hall sopping wet, due to the rain that had begun so mercilessly only minutes before their arrival at Hogwarts. She drew her cloak more tightly around herself, glancing silently at the four, long tables. There were faces missing at every table but one, and those at the Slytherin table all looked quite pleased with themselves. Except, she noted with surprise, for Howling. The girl was staring emptily off to space, as she was so prone to do. For a moment, Lily almost wanted to go over and sit with her, to ignore the rules that declared that Gryffindors and Slytherins were not friends. Lily could still recall the day they met, and she wondered why the bubbly, energetic Crystal had become a silent and ghostly form of a girl.
Scowling, she now walked alone to the Gryffindor table, seating herself near the front, because there was nowhere else to sit. She had seen, out of the corner of her eye, Potter look toward her cautiously and cock an eyebrow towards the seat next to him, but Lily cut off his line of thought with a sharp shake of the head. He may have been civil when she was on the verge of tears after hearing that people had died, but she had no doubt in her mind that he would not remain so.
As the first years began to file in, Lily yawned, already mildly exhausted from the hordes of news and duties plunged upon her that day. She smiled wanly as the midgets shifted their feet, or twirled their hair, or stared with wide eyes at Professor McGonagall. Sitting so close to the front, Lily was quite sure she heard one boy with bright orange hair whisper to the girl beside him, "I hear we have to fight a troll!"
Lily giggled, as if any first year could fight a troll. They had practiced dueling them when they were fourth years, and you practically had to hit them over the head with their own club in order to knock the big oafs out!
She watched as McGonagall set the Sorting Hat upon its stool, and waited without enthusiasm for the thing to begin its song. After six sorting songs, they began to get rather old.
I warned you once
When you were young
Of those dread things
That are to come
Now you pay heed
And listen close
For you must face
Things you dread most
Terror comes
To haunt your halls
Fear will reign
With cackling calls
Do not give up
But do your best
For this next year
Will be your test
You Hufflepuffs
Of loyalty
Turn to your friends
When you're in need
The Ravenclaws
Of vibrant wit
Shall look to books
When they are hit
For Slytherins
With ambition beyond
Listen up
Don't join that throng
My Gryffindors
Brav'ry unmeasured
Look to those things
Which you have treasured
And all ye now
Listen to me
For in this time
Will battles be
If you shall fight
As one, the same
Then you can conquer
Him With No Name
Lily bit suddenly on her lip to keep the tears from pouring out, clutching unsteadily at the table. A year ago, she would have found solace in her work or a book, but Lily knew that would not do now. She had lost her closest friend, Dorcas, to the real world, and while Lily didn't loathe her roommates, nor were they her favorite people. No, she was quite alone.
Unless of course, you counted Potter.
Which she didn't.
Under any circumstances.
Right?
~*~
Dumbledore stood up, smiling softly, but without the brightness that he usually contained. The students fell silent, glancing towards their Headmaster with reverence. "So," he began, just loud enough to fill the hall, "we come upon a new year. I welcome you all back, and remind you of the usual; the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden, and Mr. Filch has added seventy-three new items to his list of banned objects. However, I also have more solemn news." He folded his hands together, surveying the hall silently. "Seventeen witches and wizards were murdered last night by Lord Voldemort." A collective gasp went around the hall, and several students bust into tears. "We give our highest regards to Delia and Danielle Barnheart, Joanna Bones, Ellis and Jeremy Adkins, Beatrice, Bill, and Derek Benson, Joshua Burns and Julia Summers, and finally, Garcias DeSaber." By now, three-quarters of the hall was sobbing, excluding the Slytherins and a few boys too 'manly' to cry, though they would do so later. "We also remember the six others who died in the attacks."
Suddenly, golden light was flowing throughout the room, collecting above Dumbledore's head to form words.
We honor those who have fallen. We bless those who are harmed. We protect those who are threatened.
The words remained for a few more moments, and then they had gathered into a wide golden block, and images appeared. There were images of Jeremy Adkins on the quidditch field, with a star save, some with DeSaber scolding a student for harming a first year, others of Danielle summoning the teacher's lesson plan (which was greeted with a few chuckles), all memories of the fallen eleven. It moved on, with a vision of St. Mungo's, and an image of a hobbling boy on crutches. Finally, Hogwarts came into sight, accompanied by snatches of moments still recent. Little things, like a group of girls running giggling on the Express, or an image of a red-head as she twirled in the rain, face uplifted to the sky. Finally, it showed the great hall now, all of them staring reverently at the image. Golden letters flowed once more over the screen, like an old picture film's 'the end'. We are Hogwarts, leaders of many, students of four, united as one.
The gold faded, picture along with it, and the hall was left speechless. Dumbledore returned to his seat, quite content with such a reminder as an opening. Waving a hand, food appeared at the tables, and shortly the students were digging heartily into the meal.
~*~
"First years, this way," James called heartily over the crowd. "First year Gryffindors follow me!"
A small crowd of tiny, nervous, food filled first years began to gather around James. He grinned down at them encouragingly, before calling over their heads (which wasn't at all hard), "Hey Evans, d'you know how many first years we've got?"
"There's eleven, Potter, don't you count?" She snapped, striding towards the group with a scowl on her face.
James leaned down to younger students and whispered, just loudly enough for Lily to hear him, "Don't worry, she's only mean to me. She loves midgets, thinks they're the funniest thing in the world."
Lily cuffed him over the head, causing a sharp, "Ow!" to emerge from James lips. He stood up, glaring and rubbing the place where her hand had hit, rather hard.
"I do not," she told him indignantly.
"Do not what?" He asked, tone aggravated and still in pain.
"Do not think they're funny. I'm nice to them because they actually respect people. Unlike someone I know."
"Hey! I haven't been disrespectful for a whole," James paused, considering, "a whole day! Almost. So there!"
Lily gave the tiniest of grins and shook her head, before turning back to the eleven, clustered first years. Wait a second… Evans just grinned at me! She grinned at me! Why isn't the sky falling? Where are the flying pigs?
"Are you coming, Potter?" Lily's voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to find that she was already leading the new Gryffindors towards the doors. "Or are you going to stand there, grinning like an idiot?"
James, still grinning like an idiot, proceeded to trot after the group.
"…And that was the prank of 1977!" James was describing, arms waving in the air, to a wide-eyed first year girl. He had been explaining some of the Marauder's greatest pranks since they left the Great Hall, and capturing the attention and admiration of most of the first years.
"Ahem," Lily said softly, "this is The Fat Lady." They had halted in front of a huge portrait of a rather obese woman in pink, who smiled and waved cheerily at the students. "Password, dear," she asked Lily?
"Flying pig," she told the Fat Lady, who smiled and swung away from the entrance.
"Welcome," Lily declared, "to the Gryffindor Common room."
The young students stared in awe at their new home, eyes bright with interest. James turned towards Lily, watching her face alight with the comfort of returning home. For this was home; to her, to him, to Moony and Padfoot; it was their home, and the one place they were truly comfortable.
The students scrambled eagerly in, but Lily and James made no move to follow. James remembered, with a slight sinking of his stomach, that this year his home would not be where he slept each night. Who came up with the bloody idea of Head Dorms anyway? I'll be dead before Halloween!
"C'mon, Potter," Lily said from beside him, "I have no idea where that painting Dumbledore mentioned is, so we'll have to go and see him before we find it, and I do want to be asleep before classes start tomorrow."
"Don't worry about that," James told her brightly, shoving aside the insecurities about leaving the comfort of Gryffindor tower. "I know exactly where the painting is."
"Why am I not surprised?" Lily asked wryly, shaking her head.
However, she followed James as he strode swiftly down corridors, through various doors, and up a few staircases. Within a very short period of time, Lily found herself completely lost, and began to wonder just how James could remember the exact path to a remote painting. She was about to ask, before realizing that would mean conversing with Potter, and promptly shut her mouth.
It was only a short walk, though it had seemed a great deal longer, before they arrived in front of a tall, slender portrait. The display was one of Hogwarts, almost completely surrounded by woods, and surely a great deal smaller than it was today. But it was, most certainly, Hogwarts, complete with the slender towers stretching towards an insurmountable sky and a lake where the giant squid-considerably less giant-was swimming.
"The original Hogwarts," James explained softly, "it's funny, to see how much it's changed."
"It's always been beautiful," she murmured, admiring the portrait.
James smiled gently, watching her as her eyes roved over the painting again and again, admiring all the tiniest details. The crimson locks of hair that she normally had pulled strictly back had escaped her ministration today, and instead fell dazzlingly over her beautiful features. At that moment, James could have spent eternity simply watching her.
Lily turned to face James, and immediately blushed, finding him staring at her as if entranced. "Why do you always have to stare?" She questioned tartly, giving him a half-hearted glare.
"I get lost easy," he told her, winking. Lily had no time to reprimand him, however, because he immediately spoke the password to their new dorms, "Allman Brothers.***"
Lily grinned at the password, not being a huge music fan herself, but still finding it mildly funny to hear the muggle name emerging from James Potter's lips. However, her giggle faded as she stepped inside the common room.
It was love at first sight. The room wasn't all that large, but it had that quality that made one feel as if they were perfectly at home, and perfectly safe. A fire roared quietly in the fireplace, and the room was illuminated with a comfortable light. There were two cozy armchairs and a small sofa, all dark red, surrounding a dark wood coffee table. The carpet was soft and cream colored, while the walls were painted in a faint gold. Tapestries decorated the golden hue, one on each side of two doors, each displaying one of the four Hogwarts founders. Or at least, she guessed that was what they displayed, because of the names sewn elegantly into the foot of each tapestry. However, all of the founders appeared to be gone, to Lily's slight disappointment. The two doors, on opposite ends of the room, each held a gold plague with the delicate inscription, either James Potter or Lily Evans.
"It's so cozy," Lily cooed. "It makes me feel like Christmas!"
James laughed behind her, though it was not a mocking sound. Instead, he was laughing at the pure eagerness of her voice as she exclaimed over something as simple as a room. She whirled to face him, the firelight glinting off her strawberry hair, her face wearing a small scowl. "What are you laughing at, James Potter?"
"James Potter, am I now? Wow, I must be moving up in the world," he told her with a grin, skirting her question.
"You're insufferable."
"So you've said."
"I meant it."
"I believe it."
"Now, what were you laughing at?" She asked crossly, glaring at him.
Damn those glaring eyes, he thought silently. Doesn't she realize what they do to me? All filled with fire, and passion, and gold sparking through their intricate designs of wild limes, emeralds, forests, and jade. It's unbelievable. She's unbelievable.
Not that she'd ever let me tell her that.
"Just laughing over your enthusiasm, that's all. It's cute," James grinned at her, tweaking her hair playfully.
She swatted his hand away, scowling in order to hide the smile that was threatening to emerge. "Stop it, or you'll end up tied by your ankles to the ceiling." She twirled her wand, a mischievous glint in her gaze, "I've been wanting to try that spell out."
He raised his hands in defense, taking a step back. "No, I think I'll skip that experiment. I think my nice, new, cozy bed sounds much more welcoming."
James swept towards the door to his left, carefully sneaking a few last glimpses of her. Just as his hand hit the doorknob, he heard her ask curiously from behind him, "Potter, where was the beginning of the year prank?"
He turned his head back to face her, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't notice the big, gold, square with all the moving pictures?"
"That was you?" She sounded shocked, perhaps even a little bit confused. "But… it wasn't cruel, or annoying, or remotely funny."
"Surprising as it sounds, we do have hearts, Evans. I just thought this was more… appropriate."
"Oh," Lily said softly, glancing at the carpet and adding timidly, "well, I thought it was rather sweet."
James looked on, with quite a bit of astonishment, as Lily scurried into her room. Slowly, he edged through his door, shutting it quietly behind him before lying atop the covers of his elegant bed. Lily Evans just said something I did was sweet. Lily Evans…! Oh, dear Merlin, his thinking paused, and a content smile spread over his face, I love that girl.