It's About Life

James Potter watched Lily Evans throw her hair up into a messy ponytail. She licked her lips (James stifled a groan) before throwing herself head-first into her essay. From what James could tell, she had only a few sentences left to go.

He looked at his parchment, empty except for his name.

"I'd watch it, mate."

James turned to find Sirius Black beside him working diligently on his homework. James winced. The piece was due in a few hours time, but he couldn't concentrate.

It was all Lily's fault, for sure.

"I wouldn't mess with her, Prongs."

James shook his head, ignoring his friend. If James wanted advice, he'd ask for it.

He tapped his quill against his parchment before turning his attention once more to Lily Evans.

Just what did Sirius mean? He was James Potter. He didn't have to watch anything. He could mess with anything he bloody wanted. And it wasn't like she had a boyfriend or anything. She wasn't years younger than them.

There was absolutely no reason for James to stay away.

Sirius glanced at his friend. "James, I mean it. She's one messed up chick."

"And just what do you know?" James fired.

Sirius only raised his eyebrows. "Much more than you, obviously."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sirius shook his head without responding. "Just what I told you. I think half the school knows the shit that's going on with her, but you remain blissfully ignorant."

James sputtered.

"Pathetic, really," Sirius mumbled, before signing his name to his parchment with flourish. "Finished. Plan on doing yours sometime before class?"

"What kind of shit?" He couldn't--wouldn't-- let it go. How could James not know what was going on with Lily? She was his girl.

Sort of.

Sirius clapped James on the shoulder. "Sorry, mate. Not my story to tell." He heaved himself off the couch and headed toward the staircase. "I'd finish the essay if I were you."

"Since when can you not tell me things?"

Sirius didn't respond. James sat, wondering just what was wrong with Lily Evans.

One hour. One more hour of this clammy, cold dungeon, attempting to put up with Snivellus obnoxiously answering every question Slughorn asked.

James tapped his quill harder.

Then again, it was more time to admire Lily sitting to left and two rows up from him. Or more time to ponder what could be wrong with her, as his prodding of Padfoot had only gotten James a stunner, consequently making him late to class.

James wondered if he could prod it out of Sirius through guilt.

Fifty-five minutes. Fifty-five more minutes of this torture.

Lily didn't look any different than usual. She looked as she always had, ever since first year, albeit quite a few physical differences, which James had imagined in his head many, many times. She still did all her homework. She still talked to her friends. And most of the castle. She chatted with the teachers at breakfast. She was on time to all her classes. She still visited Hagrid every Wednesday. She still cheered quite violently at Quidditch matches. She still read the paper religiously every morning, starting with the opinion section, moving to the news, then sports, passing through the living section, to the obituaries, and then wedding and birth announcement, to end on a happier note.

Not that James stalked her or anything.

There wasn't anything going on in her life that James couldn't know about.

"Mr. Potter?"

James looked up, startled. Slughorn stood before him, holding a piece of parchment. The professor stared at James expectantly.

"Yes?" James hoped to Merlin he gave the correct answer.

"I said that while an essay on Miss Evans," Slughorn glanced at Lily, "is enjoyable to read, I would prefer to grade the assigned work."

James could feel his face turn red, but that was nothing compared to Lily's purple. He hoped it was from affection rather than anger.

"One hour after class, Mr. Potter. Turn the correct assignment in by then for some credit. Make it good."

Sirius was laughing beside him. "Mate, I told you to write your damn essay. Instead you whined about Evans. To a teacher."

"Padfoot."

"Her favorite teacher."

"Sirius."

"A professor who adores her. One who doesn't understand you." Sirius winced. "I'm not sure it gets much worse than that."

"Hey, Black."

A short laugh. "Huh?"

"Shut the fuck up."

James decided to confront her head-on. Grab the bull by its horns. He just couldn't decide whether he wanted to do it before dinner or after.

"Hey, Evans, wait!"

It was more of a "now" situation.

She stopped at his voice, which James considered progress, until she turned to face him. Her expression said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. James nearly backed away until he remembered who and where he was.

James Potter backed down from (nearly) nothing.

"Evans, I have to talk to you."

She continued to glare at him. James swallowed and tried to clear his suddenly dry throat.

He rarely got so close to Lily Evans.

"So, I was--"

"You wrote," she began, "your potions essay," speaking in fragments, "about me?"

She was shaking and James could only assume it was from rage. He couldn't decide whether to stay or flee.

"Er-- I-- well--I--I--"

Stay it was.

"Is there anything you would like to tell me about your essay, Potter?" Her tone was ice poured straight down his back. He was having trouble talking, breathing, living. He wasn't sure if he was simply intimidated or aroused.

Both?

"What's wrong with you?"

There. He said it. James was almost proud of himself, but he didn't have much time to bask in the glory of his moment.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? I have some personal issues in my life right now, Potter, and besides having to deal with that, and most of the school fucking knowing, I have to deal with people like you, who are busy writing essays about my hair and wondering how to resolve my problems."

There was someone else writing essays about her? Who else was trying to fix her problems? Damn, he was behind.

"Newsflash, Potter! I don't need saving. The world needs saving. I'm only Lily Evans. No one saves Lily Evans."

"What's wrong with you?" He realized how it sounded once it came out, and quickly tried to backtrack, save the situation. "No--wait--what's wrong with... you?" The same words, different tone. From Lily's glare, he guessed it didn't help much.

"It's not just about me, Potter. It's about life. Sometimes problems are much bigger than you."

With that, she broke off of the conversation, nearly running down the hall, not bothering to apologize to the first year she nearly knocked to the ground.

James shook his head. What the hell happened?

James decided it was time to take some action, figure out exactly what kind of shit was going on in Lily Evans' life. He abandoned his bag in the Transfiguration classroom (McGonagall would keep it safe, surely) and caught up to Lily in the hall.

"Hey, Evans, can we talk?"

She sighed and told her friends that she would catch up with them later. Lily turned to James. "Make it quick."

Suddenly, James' mind went blank.

"Potter?" Lily tapped her foot impatiently. "Did you really want to talk to me about something?"

"Er... yes. Yes, I wanted to ask you a question."

Seconds passed.

"And..." Lily encouraged. "Would you like to ask it?"

James rubbed the back of his neck. "Um... yes." Lily stared at him expectantly. "How's... life?"

James felt like smacking his head against a wall. Suave, Potter. Very smooth.

"Did you want something, James?" Lily looked exasperated.

"I just wanted to talk." The truth would set him free.

"Why? You don't know anything about me."

Suddenly, Padfoot's words rushed into his mind. I wouldn't mess with her. She's one messed up chick.

No, James thought defiantly, staring at Lily. No, he knew her. He knew her better than she thought.

"No, you don't," she repeated after his declaration, this time with a laugh. "You don't know me at all."

"Then I'll get to know you," he told her. "We'll learn everything about each other."

She didn't answer, but she hadn't dismissed him, so James decided to take no reaction as a good reaction. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, only to slouch back over when he noticed Lily wasn't looking anywhere near him.

That would be changing.

"I'll start then, shall I?" He regretting his tone the moment he finished. Something about Lily's reaction-- tenser shoulders, tightening of the jaw-- didn't feel right.

"All right. Well, my name is James Potter. I'm a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. I've also been the captain since fifth year."

He paused, waiting for her reaction. She didn't seem impressed.

"And?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

James took in her expressionless face. His jaw dropped. Did she honest-to-Merlin not understand what he just told her?

"Lily, I am the Quidditch Captain of a team that's won the House Cup for the past five years. I've won every year as captain. I've won every year I've been on the team! I'm the pride and joy of my team!"

Lily only rolled her eyes. James nearly gasped. Was she joking?

"Does this mean anything to you?"

"Obviously not," she said, moving out of her chair. "I've better things in my life to worry about." As she turned to leave, James grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he nearly pleaded, wincing inwardly at his tone. "Wait, Evans, you haven't even gone yet. You haven't told me anything about yourself."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "That's funny. I thought you knew it all."

She slipped her arm out of James grip, leaving him alone, once again.

He knew he could count on Remus.

After his encounter with Lily, James had hunted his friend down, fired questions at him about Lily's life. Whatever ones Remus couldn't answer, and James couldn't squeeze out of her friends, James wrote down on a sheet of paper. He intended to find out everything about Lily Evans.

James scanned the Great Hall. No time like the present.

He found Lily nibbling on some breakfast and quickly made his way toward her, slowing down as he came closer.

"Morning, Evans," he mumbled, grabbing some toast, acting as though he was used to this. Sitting beside Lily. Eating breakfast. Starting the day out right.

He had to get used to it if she was in his future, after all.

"Good morning," she replied, albeit quietly. James grinned.

"So, how's your sister? Petunia, right?"

Lily stiffened. James' smile dropped.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Remus may have said something about not mentioning the sister.

"She's fine," Lily told him, her voice smooth. "She's fine."

Well, she hadn't run away, and James thanked his lucky stars. The morning was still salvageable.

"Let's talk about something else, shall we?" She suggested it casually, but James knew he was walking on egg shells. Someday he would find out about her sister, but that was a later challenge. One step at a time.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Lily looked at him strangely after he asked it. James supposed he could have been gentler in his questioning. Not as... firing squadish.

"I want to deal with public relations," she finally revealed, pushing away her plate. James glanced at it. She'd hardly eaten a thing. "I want to focus on the relationship between muggles and the magical world."

James nodded. "That's interesting." He'd have never thought it for a career choice, actually. It's why Lily was so amazing. She could think up things like that. "Why choose that?"

Oh, Merlin, James couldn't help but think, as Lily's back stiffened again. Could he say anything to the girl?

"Personal reasons." She glanced over at him and James thought he detected a bit of a smile on her face. "And how about you?"

"I'm going to be a professional Quidditch player."

After a moment, James heard a snort. "That's a good one," Lily said, through giggles. She shook her head. "Really, what would you like to be?"

James stared at her. She didn't believe him. She thought he was joking.

Un-bloody-believable.

As he looked at her, Lily's laughter faltered. "Oh, Lord. You were serious?"

James slowly nodded, trying to hide his hurt. "And what's so funny about it? You think I'm not good enough?"

Lily gaped at him and James felt his stomach drop. "It's not about whether or not you can play," she started in a strangled tone. "It's about... well, it's a game, James. Quidditch is fun to play now, but as a career?" She started to laugh again. "Quidditch is not a career."

"It is too."

She shook her head. "Not one I can respect."

"Then what do you expect me to do?"

Lily paused. "Grow up," she said, turning toward him. "Grow up. Realize you can't be a kid forever. Be a man." She shrugged. "Grow up."

This time, James walked out on her.

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He was ready to crack. It was everything James had not to walk over to Lily and ask her just what was wrong with her, just what everyone knew, just what was wrong with professional Quidditch.

James knew he shouldn't. Lily had walked away from him. Her guilt was supposed to snap her. James should not be the one who spoke first.

Or at least that's what Sirius was telling him.

"You have to be in control, Prongs. The relationship has to be in your hands."

Remus snorted and glanced at Sirius. "Relationship?"

Sirius waved his hand. "Whatever the hell they have."

"I'd say Lily's not exactly ready for a relationship," Remus mumbled, loudly enough for James to hear.

I wouldn't mess with her, Prongs. She's one messed up chick.

For fuck's sake, how could James not know what the hell was wrong with her? Remus knew, Sirius knew. James would take a bet that even Peter fucking knew, and it was a crime for his brothers not to tell him. Whatever happened to loyalty?

Sirius laughed when James brought up the subject.

"Loyalty?" Remus repeated, letting forth a chuckle of his own. "Prongs, honestly. Padfoot told you."

"It's not our story to tell," Sirius finished, collapsing beside James on the sofa, smiling maliciously. James growled.

"Right, so Lily told you the story herself then?"

"Not exactly..." Sirius began.

"But while we accept gossip, the train ends with us," Remus added, shrugging in what James assumed was an apology. It looked more like an excuse for James to deck him.

James jumped up. "Since when?" He spread his arms, increased his volume. "You've never kept anything from me before!"

"It's not--"

"Your story to tell. Yeah, I fucking get that. But no one will tell me so how the fuck am I supposed to find out?"

Remus raised his hands. "Calm down, Prongs. You could go ask her--"

"Ask her!" James laughed. "And say what? 'Hey, Evans, what happened to you that everyone knows about? I know you hate me and everything, but I'd really like to know.'" He shook his head. "She wouldn't answer. She'd probably castrate me for asking!"

Suddenly, James looked to Sirius, catching his silencing motions. James slowly turned, facing a red faced Lily.

"If you would like to know something about me," she said, not looking at his face, "you can ask me. I'd rather not have my business thrown about the common room." She glanced around. James looked too, unsurprised to find faces quickly turning once caught. Lily lowered her voice. "And I'd rather not have rumors about me castrating you. There's enough talk of me and some choice men floating around the school."

Without glancing at him, she turned and walked toward the girls' stairwell.

Wide-eyed, James looked at Remus, Sirius, and now Peter, who had appeared amid the chaos. They avoided his gaze.

James sputtered. "What the fuck did that mean?"

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