Unofficial Portkey Archive

I'll Fight For You

By Hazelmist/Summerskies

Disclaimer: You know the deal.

Chapter 6: I'm Falling

The curtains blow in the gentle night breeze, causing the moonlight to dance across the bedroom floor. Not a sound penetrates my waiting ears. Even the breeze, toying with the curtains, is mysteriously silent. I stand rooted to the floor, waiting for the girl to reappear. But she doesn't.

"NO!"

Racing to the window, I grasp the sill with both hands and lean out. My head spins when I see the ground so far below. I'm on the third floor, three stories up from the bushes beneath the window. From here they look so small. They're no bigger than an ink bottle. And somewhere down below, broken and lifeless is an innocent child, who jumped fearfully from the window because of me.

"Oh no," I moan in despair, dropping my head on my arms. Merlin, this can't be happening to me. Why me? I didn't want to hurt her! I only wanted to help her! Why'd she have to jump? Now I'll have to live with this for the rest of my life. Every step I take I'll have this weight upon my chest, knowing that a child died because I scared her.

My eyes sting with unshed tears. I have no more tears left, but the sorrow is unending. It's like a bottomless pit that ensnares the senses and encloses you like a fog.

Suddenly, I'm crouched on the windowsill, poised and ready to jump, and the funny thing is, I have no idea how I got there. But that's where I am now, blinded by grief and guilt and not fully aware of my actions. Shakily, I remove my hands from the sill and start to stand on unsteady legs.

One.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

Two.

"LILY!?"

Three!

For one glorious moment I'm free, soaring through the air. I can fly! The moment's short lived because suddenly I'm flat on my stomach, aching all over.

Ouch.

Well, I take it I survived the fall…barely. I force myself to move, pressing my palms against the black shingles. Wait a minute, this isn't grass! From the window it looked green, and there was bushes and grass, but this is definitely not greenery. Pushing myself up, I lift my head and find to my surprise that I'm on a…roof?

"LiiiiillllllllYYYYYYY!"

I look up. INCOMING!

CRASH!

Too late.

Someone lands on the roof and I fall back on my stomach again. Painfully, I try to push myself up to investigate, but whoever it is, is sitting on my legs.

"Can you, er, move?" I ask whoever it is that's behind me.

Silently, someone moves over and finally freeing my legs. Two strong familiar hands grasp my shoulders and they help me sit up. I lean back against the house and turn to look at the person that foolishly jumped after me and probably paralyzed me. I shouldn't be surprised to see him, after fate has thrown us together for over twelve hours of unwanted bonding time, but I am.

"Potter," I groan.

"Wasn't that fun?" Potter asks, breathlessly.

"What part of that did you find fun? Was it when I fell face first on a roof or when you decided to turn my legs into useless pancakes?" I wonder.

"Both!"

I knew he was going to say that. Why did I ask?

"What's wrong?" he asks, tilting his head. "You don't seem happy to see me."

"That's because I'm not," I reply, rolling my eyes. I thought that was obvious.

"You are too," he insists, poking me.

"I am not," I retort.

"Are too," James counters.

"I AM NOT!"

"Liar, you're really secretly thrilled to see me, but you're too stubborn to admit it," he says with a devilish grin.

I snort. Dream on, pretty boy.

"Right, Potter. Just like I secretly love you but I'm too scared to profess my undying love for you," I answer, sarcastically.

"I knew it!" he exclaims, gleefully.

It's no use arguing with him. Believe me, if I tried we'd be here all night and it still wouldn't get through that thick Quidditch obsessed, perverted pea sized brain of his. So I let him ramble a bit, tuning him out as I try to remember why I jumped in the first place.

The girl!

"You've loved me since the first year Evans. I knew that if I waited a bit, you would see things my way - Hey Evans, what do you think you're doing?"

He grabs the back of my shirt and pulls me away from the edge of the roof.

"Let go of me Potter!" I snarl, crawling back to the gutter again. But James resists, and yanks me back again as if I'm on a leash.

"Where are you going?" he asks me.

"To the ground, that was my original intent before this random roof materialized out of nowhere." I look up, wondering how I couldn't possibly see this landing from my window.

James chuckles and as if reading my mind he replies quietly, "You wouldn't be able to see it from the window, wizarding homes are built differently than your muggle houses. We use magic, not everything coincides with the usual geometric laws of matter and gravity in our world."

"Oh." Weird, sometimes I feel like I'm on another planet.

"So, why were you trying to escape?" James asks again. "Am I really that bad?" he jokes with a mock hurt expression on his face.

"No," I admit, and his face lights up with a smug smile. "I mean, yes, you really are that bad." The grin dissolves, and his shoulders slump. "But the real reason why I tried to jump was because this little girl showed up in my room and she jumped out the window when I approached her."

"So, I wasn't the reason why you jumped!"

"No," I sigh, remembering that someone had been calling my name and James had fallen out of the sky and on top of me moments later. But that would mean that James had been in my room.

"What were you doing in my room?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

James gapes at me, but has nothing to say.

God, he is such a pervert! If it wasn't for the fact that his aunt, uncle and cousin just died and his mother is so nice, I would push him off the roof right now.

"You're sick!" I spit, with disgust.

"No, it's not what you think," Potter stammers.

"Walking into a girl's room when the door's closed? Who does that? Only people with one thing on their mind and that's-"

"It wasn't your room," he interrupts.

"Of course not, but you were right there when your mom told me what room I would be sleeping in."

"Third floor, three doors to the right," James repeats, putting emphasis on the word right as if it's some secret code word that I'm supposed to pick up on.

"You even memorized it!" I stop and it starts to sink in.

Three doors to the right.

"Where's Harry?"

I went three doors to the left.

My hand flies to my mouth.

I slept in Harry's bed.

"Oh my god!" I whisper, flushing in embarrassment. Some poor guy was out of a bed and this poor little girl got the scare of her life when she found me sleeping in her Dad/Brother/whoever's bed.

"I heard someone yelling so I went to investigate, and what do I find but Ms. Lilllian Evans trying to jump out the window," James continues, sending me a curious look.

"I'm sorry," I hastily apologize. "I made the mistake of going left instead of right. When I saw the candlelit room and the empty bed, I just assumed that it was my room."

"That's okay, everyone makes mistakes, even perfect prefect Lillian Evans," he laughs loudly. "I can't believe it!" Then he starts having convulsions, when he sees the offended look on my face. I swear he laughed for ten minutes straight. Okay, so I made a small error, but does he really have to go and rub it in? It's not necessary, but this is Mr. I'm-Better-Than-Everyone-Else so I guess it is.

"Unbelievable, that room's been locked for as long as I can remember," he recalls, his amusement turning to puzzlement. "I just don't get it, Mom forbid me to enter that room, mind you she always had the door locked with every spell you could think of, I tried everything."

I don't doubt it. James Potter has enough curiosity to kill a million cats.

"And tonight, of all nights, I discover the door wide open and you jumping out the window." He scratches his head.

"Has it really been locked, or are you just making this up?" I ask, intrigued by this tidbit of mysterious information.

"I swear, just ask my mom! Countless times she threatened to cut my ear off if I continued to try that unmovable doorknob," James replies, and I know he's not kidding.

We lapse into silence, me contemplating why the door was always locked and why it suddenly opened for me tonight, and James lost in thoughts about Merlin only knows what. His attention span isn't all that long so I imagine that his mind's already halfway to Mars by now.

I should've remembered that James Potter is always full of surprises and tonight is no different.

"Honestly, the way that Mom went on about that door, you'd think she was keeping a chimaera in there. But it's just an ordinary bedroom." He frowns, dwelling over the same thing I was. Wow, this is unusual, Potter and I are thinking along the same lines.

"It's Harry's bedroom," I blurt out suddenly.

"What?" Potter asks, looking at me.

"It's Harry's bedroom," I repeat, loud enough for him to hear.

"Who told you that?" A funny look crosses his face.

"That little girl, the one I was telling you about. She jumped out the window when I tried to approach her. Remember?" Wasn't he listening to me at all?

James thinks for a moment and then suddenly sits up excitedly with a grin.

"A little girl, you say? Did she have curly black hair, looked about seven, and was about this high." He raises his hand, illustrating the child's height.

"Yes!" I nod enthusiastically. So I'm not crazy, James saw her too. Hang on a second, the little girl looked awfully similar to James and his Mom. Oh wow, I am so stupid, all this time it's been right in front of my face. I could hit myself for being so dumb.

"Why didn't you tell me that you had a little sister!?" I exclaim.

"Because I don't have one!" James replies, laughing.

"Oh." Well, that puts a damper on things. Mystery unsolved but Detective Lily will not give up!

"Er, she was your cousin?" I try again.

"Nope."

"Second cousin?"

"Nope."

I'm getting discouraged.

"Third?"

James shakes his head.

"Neighbor? Niece? Friend of family? Long lost adopted relative? Daughter?"

"No, no, no, no - WHAT?!" James shouts, his eyes widening.

"I'll take that as a no," I say, crossing something out with an imaginary pen on an imaginary clip board.

"Lily, I'm sixteen!" James exclaims, gaping at me.

"Hey, with your reputation, one can never be too sure." I smirk, muffling a laugh.

Apparently, James doesn't find it nearly as funny as I do. In fact he looks as if he's just fallen off of his broomstick and sustained life threatening injuries. Wouldn't that be awful? Just the thought, threatens to send me into a fit of giggles.

"Is that what you think of me?" he asks softly, in a hurt voice.

Tactfully, I avoid answering this question, forcing a laugh.

"Oh, cheer up James! I was just kidding about the kid." I punch him playfully, and he seems to lighten up…a little bit.

Oh well, not my problem. He's the one that went out and dated just about every girl in the school and then had the audacity to ask me, of all people, out on a date, not once, but several times in front of people. I don't regret what I said. It's about time he wakes up to reality and realizes how people really see him. At least that's how the sane people view him, a select list which includes myself, Grace, and well, myself. There are others but I can't remember their names at the moment.

Moving on…

"If she's not your illegitimate child, then who is she?" I ask, looking at anything but James.

"She's probably just a figment of your imagination," he snaps.

"Ah, so we're both suffering from hallucinations now?" I chuckle.

James grunts in reply. He's really mad about this whole daughter thing. It's kind of ironic that he's one of the infamous Marauders and yet he can't take a joke, but then again, perhaps I didn't intend for it to be one.

"You did see her, right?"

Another grunt. Wow, Potter's bilingual. I'm impressed. In Troll, I think that means yes or was it no? It's a shame that I can't comprehend Troll.

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't dreaming, unless of course we had the same dream, which would be highly unlikely and a little scary," I babble on and James grunts during the pauses. After awhile it starts to get on my nerves.

"James," I sigh.

Grunt.

"For Merlin's sake! Quit sulking!" I explode, frustrated with the lack of response on the other end, or rather, the lack of coherent replies.

"I'm not sulking!" he insists.

"Sure, you aren't," I snort.

"I'm not!"

"Whatever you say James," I sigh again, giving up.

Minutes pass by and Potter continues to sulk, but I'm patient, most of the time. I lean back against the side of the house, looking up at the stars. It's a nice night for star gazing, a full moon, no clouds, warm air, and a cool breeze. If I was at home, I might've gone into my backyard and laid on my back in the grass.

"Do you like looking at the stars?" James asks, suddenly. I turn to look at him, only slightly surprised to find him staring openly at me.

"Sometimes," I whisper, glancing back up at the sky.

Immediately, I'm lost in a whirlwind of memories. I remember when I was a little girl, on warm clear summer nights my Dad would take me outside and teach me the names of the constellations. All those nights with Dad paid off when I arrived and Hogwarts and discovered that Astronomy was one of our main subjects. Many a night I recall sitting by the window, looking at the stars and missing Dad and Mom. Thinking about my parents, makes me think of Gracie and Mark, Hope and Chris, so I try to get my mind off of it.

But when I look back again, he's gone.

"James?"

Fearfully, I clamber to the edge of the roof where he had once been sitting, but a hand grabs me from behind. Spinning, I find James clinging to the edge of the roof holding a hand out to me.

"I want to show you something," he whispers. Then his head disappears from view.

I peek over the edge and notice a vine growing up the side of the house. James is already on his feet in the grass down below. He beckons for me to follow his lead, gesturing to the vine as if I'm an idiot.

"Do you want me to come up there and help you?" he calls, noticing my hesitation.

"No, I may be a girl James, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm helpless," I answer, haughtily.

"I didn't mean it that way, I just meant-" James breaks off in a sigh, and I'm happy to say that I climbed down that vine faster than a monkey with no problem at all. I had my eyes screwed shut the whole time, and I think I could have easily jumped off the roof and made it safely to the ground, but that's beside the point, I was very proud of myself.

"So, what did you want to show me?" I ask, regaining my composure and brushing myself off.

"Come with me." James takes me by the hand and leads me into the woods.

What am I thinking, going with Potter into the woods? To be honest with you, I think I temporarily misplaced my brain. Everything's so mixed up, it's like I'm still walking in a bad dream.

"Is it far?" I ask nervously, glancing back in the direction of the rapidly disappearing house.

"Why, are you scared?" James teases with a mischievous grin.

"No!" I protest. Should I be scared?

James chuckles and tugs on my hand, pulling me deeper into the forest.

If he tries to rape me, I swear I'm going to scream loud enough for the whole universe to hear me. James Potter will not, I repeat, will not, live to see the light of day if he tries to even breathe on me. I untangle my fingers from his and slip my hand into my pocket. I discover to my relief that my wand's still there.

"Relax, Evans," James chuckles.

"I am!" I say a little too quickly, betraying a tremor of anxiety in my voice. He must've noticed because suddenly he stops me in my tracks.

"Don't you trust me?" he asks, softly.

"I don't know," I admit, pressing my hand against a tall oak tree.

His hand reaches up, brushing something off of my shoulder. I look up at him, and notice that the sad, injured expression has never left his face. He's coming closer to me, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ears.

"Lily, you know I would never hurt you," he whispers in my ear.

The look in his eyes is so intense, that I'm hypnotized. I hesitate too long and suddenly Potter's leaning in. No, I can see exactly where this is going and I am going to personally make sure that it won't happen.

Taking an unsteady step backwards, I clumsily fall back against the tree. A twig snaps, and I notice his face suddenly inches away from mind. His hand rests on the tree, just above my left shoulder. I look down at the ground, afraid that if I look in his eyes something out of my control might just happen.

I can't breathe because he's so damn close to me. What is wrong with this guy? Can't he take a hint? I only want him to get away from me, so I can exhale and find out why I'm so dizzy all of a sudden. Get away from me Potter, you're invading my space! My tongue's stuck. Frantically, I search for words, but my brain has temporarily gone into snail mode.

"Is that what you tell every girl?" I laugh darkly, when I finally manage to think of something to say. A sharp intake of breath and his hand leaves my shoulder. I exhale, the dizziness subsiding. Finally, I lift my eyes, daring to look at him. He's standing a few feet away from me with his back to me.

Oddly enough, I feel sympathetic toward Potter. Huh? Wait, are we thinking about the same Potter here? This is the same guy that hung Severus Snape upside down from his underwear and dated half the females in the Wizarding World. Get real Lily! But still, he just lost some of his closest relatives, he's not himself!

"James," I feel compelled to speak. Hesitantly, I take a step toward him. He hears me approaching but he doesn't turn, instead his head lifts as if he's looking up at the stars.

"You're not just any girl, Lily Evans," he breathes.

I freeze.

Why of all the eligible bachelors in the universe does it have to be Potter that says all these things to me? If it was any other guy, I would've melted. But because it's coming from Potter, the guy that spits out these lines as if they're a hello or a goodbye, they're meaningless.

"You're right Potter, I'm not just any girl. I actually have a brain," I retort.

James wheels around.

"That's not what I meant," he continues in that pitiful, injured tone that's starting to drive me crazy. I suppose he thinks he can get any girl he wants by doing this. Obviously, he doesn't realize that it won't work that way when a girl actually has a brain.

"But it's the truth, isn't it?" I ask, harshly.

He doesn't reply. Instead he looks at the ground. I roll my eyes. He's so pathetic. How can anyone actually believe a single word that pops out of his mouth when he's acting as if the world's about to end and we're the very last female and male on earth?

"I've never met anyone like you," he continues, dramatically.

Girls fall for this? Oh, my sweet Merlin, I think I'm going to die if I have to hold this laughter in any longer. I swear James has been watching - no, studying - plotless muggle chick flicks for hours on end. There's no way he could get this good without help.

"It's just that you're so smart and beautiful-"

I can't take it anymore! If he doesn't cut this out I'm going to break a rib.

"Save it!" I interrupt, fighting back a laugh.

"But Lily-"

"Please, James. Don't waste your time unless your intention was to make me die laughing," I laugh.

James reluctantly closes his mouth with a heavy, dramatic sigh. He lowers his head, shoving his hands into his pocket.

"Fine," he sulks.

Sulky Potter stomps into the woods, leaving me behind. The house is in the other direction. He can't honestly think that after he just tried to kiss me and gave me the speech - which I'm proud to say I am completely immune to, even if we were in the woods after his whole extended family was massacred - that I'm actually going to follow him.

"Potter!" I call.

Potter ignores me and continues to walk deeper into the woods. Now I'm starting to lose sight of him. A quick glance back tells me that I will get lost if I try to find my way back.

I hate Potter.

"Potter! Wait up!" I shout, scrambling to follow him. This better be good.

I fall into step beside him. James keeps glancing at me when he thinks I'm not looking. Maybe it's my eyes, but I could have sworn that was a smirk on his face. What nerve! If he's stupid enough to pull something like that again, the Potter lineage is going to come to an immediate end. Apparently, he understands this. Maybe it's because I'm glaring daggers at him, because he doesn't try anything else, at least not right away.

But we keep walking and walking, and I'm beginning to wonder what Potter's real intentions are. After that little stunt back there, I'm starting to question whether this boy has any morals whatsoever.

I'm almost ready to demand him to take me back, when he abruptly stops. Warily, I watch as he pulls back several branches and then motions me to follow him. I follow, despite my better judgment, and find myself at the edge of an open field.

"Wow!" I breathe.

I walk forward, leaving the woods and James behind. The velvety sky looks so big out here in the open. A full moon's high up in the sky now, starting to retreat in the opposite direction. It's just one of those nights where everything's so bright that you want to stay out all night. And the stars, I tilt my head back and look at them twinkling above me. I swear if I lifted my arm, my finger tips would brush one or two of them.

I look for James and notice that he's already settled himself some distance ahead. He's spread out on his back with his arms folded comfortably behind his head. I can't help but smile as I approach.

"Do you like looking at the stars?" I tease as I sit down beside him.

I'm in a much better mood now that I know there actually was a place he had in mind. And out here, isolated from the rest of the world, both muggle and magical, I feel like we can forget about everything and leave it all behind.

After making sure that Potter's at least an arm's length away from me, I make myself comfortable in the grass beside him. He doesn't say anything, but I think he's smiling as he watches the stars.

The minutes pass in a pleasant silence only broken by the distant call of an owl or the cracking of twigs as a nocturnal animal prowls through the distant woods in search of its evening meal. Everything's so peaceful that even my thoughts have come to a standstill.

Now I am relaxed.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask James, out of the blue.

"You," he teases.

I slap his arm and he rewards me with a half hearted grin. At least he's not sulking anymore.

"Come on James, at least pretend to be serious," I beg.

"I'm James, not Sirius," he jokes.

I roll my eyes. That joke is so old.

"No, really, what are you thinking about?" I ask him, staring up the stars.

A full minute goes by before he replies.

"Nothing," he sighs.

After a full minute pause, that's all he has to say, nothing? I'm not buying it.

"You're terrible at lying," I laugh.

"What makes you think I'm lying?" James asks.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it was the heavy sigh, or the minute that it took you to come up with that unbelievable answer."

"Darn, you caught me," James says, unenthusiastically snapping his fingers.

He's quiet. When I realize he's not going to answer me, I tear my eyes away from the beautiful scene above me and face my long time tormentor. His silence has only intrigued me.

"Are you going to tell me what you were thinking about or do I have to pry it out of you?" I ask, poking him.

"You actually care what I think?" James looks at me with an amused smile.

"Yes. Surprisingly, I do," I admit, playing with a strand of grass. There was a reason why I wasn't placed in Ravenclaw with the book worms and instead got stuck in Gryffindor with a clown like Potter. It's the one thing that I grudgingly admit we do have in common and that's curiosity.

"Uncle Harry," he blurts out suddenly.

"Excuse me?" I ask, wondering if my ears have deceived me.

"I was thinking about Uncle Harry," he repeats.

"Your uncle, I slept in your uncle's bed?!" That's just even worse. Oh, god. Merlin, I feel so awful now. And then his poor kid comes wandering into the room looking for him and wonders what I'm doing there.

"It was his bed," James corrects me.

"Was, as in…" I trail off wondering if I only imagined hearing the past tense.

"He's been dead for almost twenty years."

"You're joking!" But he's not. My jaw drops like an anchor.

James shakes his head and I close my mouth. That explains why the room was shut up. No wonder James felt the need to investigate when he heard me speaking to the little girl. After being dead for twenty years that room should've been as silent as a tomb. Hold on a second, that doesn't make any sense. I gasp and sit up.

"He can't be dead, that little girl came into the room looking for him. Why would she be searching for a guy that's been dead longer than she's been in existence?" I ask, crushing a fistful of grass between my hands.

"Maybe you dreamed it?" James suggests hesitantly, as if he thinks I'm making it up.

"You saw her too!" I snap, letting the grass fall from my hands and onto his face.

"I did not-" James breaks off spluttering and sits up. "Blah!" He spits out the grass that I dropped into his mouth, while his eyes were closed, and wipes the remaining greens off of his face. "What'd you do that for? What? I didn't see her - Oh, that girl," he says softly, realizing his mistake.

"Who'd you think I was talking about?" I roll my eyes. He can be so thick at times.

"I don't know," James shrugs.

"Who is she?" I ask curiously, remembering how we got out here in the first place.

"I don't know," he repeats with another shrug.

"Don't play games with me." I shove him, sending his head and shoulders back into the grass.

"I'm not!" James protests. "I've never met the girl in my life." He struggles to sit up, but I push him back down again. How am I supposed to find out anything when I can't get a single honest word out of him?

"Honestly, this was the first time I saw her, Lily!" With a frustrated sigh he seizes my arm and drags me down into the grass beside him. I scowl and tug at my arm, but James refuses to let go.

"Listen to me!" he pleads, yanking on my arm and pulling me closer. I sigh heavily but resign myself to hear whatever bull crap story he has to tell me. "I don't know who she is. I heard someone crying and then I saw her wandering the halls, that's why I went to Uncle Harry's room in the first place."

I have to believe him, even though it destroys every explanation I had for this incident.

"But then why was she looking for him? You didn't even know that was his room and you've been living in that house for sixteen years!" I frown.

"I don't know. At least she talked to you. I couldn't even catch up with her." He releases my arm but I remain where I am lost in thought.

This just keeps getting weirder. I thought that the transition between the primary school and Hogwarts was hard, but this, this is getting a little too complex for me. And I'm usually the logical one!

It doesn't make sense, how would a strange child know that it was Harry's room? Why was she calling for a man that she had never met and probably never even heard of? She was barely six and the man died twenty years ago, it doesn't help that James can't identify her as a relative or even a friend of the family.

How can this be? Was it all a dream? There has to be a solution to this mystery…

"Hey, Lily," James says suddenly, rolling over to face me.

"What?" I ask, irritably.

"Maybe she's a ghost."

If someone said that to me six years ago, I probably would've been committed to a mental institution for even considering this option. Here in the magical world, things work a little differently. Ghosts are in plain sight and there's a whole community of them living at Hogwarts.

He might be right. But…

"She looked so solid and she wasn't transparent! Her hair was black and I remember that her eyes were brown. And she had a black and blue on her face and bloody gashes on her chest and shoulder! Ghosts don't have color, and ghosts don't bleed or bruise," I argue.

"What about the Bloody Baron?" James grins.

"It's not the same, you know what I meant. She couldn't have been a ghost, she was solid," I continue, but James again sends me on the defensive.

"Are you sure? Did you actually touch her?" he asks, shrewdly.

I stop.

"No! But, oh, never mind! What's the use!?" I groan and let myself fall backwards into the soft grass. My head hurts, probably because I've received so much information today that it's about to explode. I hear James chuckle softly and lie down beside me.

"You know you look cute when you're frustrated."

"Please don't start!" Potter with his cheap pick up lines and meaningless compliments is the very last thing I need right now. No wonder why I have a headache, I've been with this annoying jerk for over twelve hours.

"You're right though, she's not a ghost," he adds thoughtfully. "She cast a shadow in the hall. I don't think ghosts can do that."

"They can't," I murmur in agreement.

"Hey, I've got it!" James says, propping himself up on his elbow. "She's a poltergeist."

I turn and stare at him. All I can think of is Peeves, the resident poltergeist at Hogwarts and a nasty little bugger who's worse than all four of the Maruaders combined. I have difficulty believing that a terrified child is a poltergeist. James mouth twitches. He's probably thinking the same thing.

"Scratch that, I don't think they cast shadows either." He surrenders, sinking back down into the grass.

Now, we're right back where we started.

"I think it's too late for thinking," I sigh, closing my eyes and savoring the peace and quiet.

"You mean it's too early, it's past one," James corrects me.

"Whatever it is, I'm tired."

"Okay, I'll shut up," James yawns and rolls over.

It's so comfortable out here that I could easily fall asleep. The hours with Potter are really starting to take a toll on me. Unfortunately, now that James has finally left me alone and I've resigned myself to a nap, I'm not tired at all. In fact, I'm wide awake.

"James," I whisper, sitting up.

James pretends to snore, how mature. I shake him and he opens his eyes with a snort and a fake yawn.

"I thought you were tired," he says instantly awake, confirming my suspicions.

"I was, but now I want to talk to you," I admit, guiltily.

"Oh, so now you want to talk, at one in the morning when I'm asleep." He smirks, rubbing his eyes.

"You weren't sleeping," I retort.

"How do you know?" James asks, defensively.

"I'm psychic," I lie.

"Really?" James's eyes light up.

"No."

"Darn, it would've made everything a lot easier if you could read my thoughts."

Privately, I agree, but then again, why would I want to read Potter's thoughts? I shudder inwardly, hoping that this will never happen.

"So, what'd you want to talk about?" James asks slowly, looking over at me.

"Um, well, erm, it's really none of my business but I wanted to know how, how -" I feel awkward asking this. I have no right to ask, but it's the stupid Gryffindor curiosity thing again.

"Just say it Lily."

"How - how'd your uncle die?" I blurt out.

James looks away and is quiet for a long time. I duck my head trying to hide the embarrassed blush that comes so easily to red heads.

"You don't have to answer. I don't know why I asked that dumb question, it was stupid of me," I stammer, regretting that I had asked such an idiotic personal question.

"He was murdered," James finally answers quietly.

A chill runs the length of my spine and it has nothing to do with the breeze. Why didn't someone tell me all this before? Perhaps then, the murder of Gracie's family wouldn't have come as such a shock. I look around the peaceful meadow, suddenly wary, no longer feeling peaceful or safe. The Wizarding World was always somewhat of a fairytale, a fantasy, a dream that I thought I was going to wake up from. But bit by bit, the superficial glitter is being peeled away, revealing a world as flawed and cruel as the muggle world I was born into.

"Nothing's perfect," I mutter under my breath.

"I disagree," James murmurs, staring directly at me. "You Lily Evans are perfect." He reaches out to me, his eyes locked with mine.

"Shut it Potter," I grumble, swatting his hand away. He must study books with pick up lines in his spare time.

"Oh, come on Evans. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're brave, you're kind, you're popular-"

"I said shut up!" I shout.

James stops talking instantly. Apparently, the words came out a little louder than I intended. They seem to echo in the meadow, resounding in my mind.

"But you are," James echoes quietly.

"I'm not," I snap.

"Everyone thinks you are."

Me? Lily Evans? Perfect? What planet do you live on Potter? I know he thinks that he's some kind of sex god and he's desperate to have everyone kiss his feet, but really, he's sinking to an all time low with these "perfect" lies. How can a girl actually swallow this bull crap?

"What did I say Potter?" I ask in a cold voice.

"You're afraid to hear the truth," James says, his voice rising to match my own. "You refuse to see it Lily, but you're something better than all the other girls-"

"Please, stop it," I beg. I don't want to fight with him, not tonight. I'm too tired and both of us are going to be stuck in this house for the next few days. With an emotionless, serious, Sirius Black, and a broken, raging, revengeful Grace Adams, I'm going to need James to help me keep them in check, and alive for that matter.

"Okay," he says quietly with a nod, but I notice that his jaw is clenched.

"Can you take me back?" I ask, but it's more of a command. I'm still mad, and I don't understand why. It was just one of his lousy compliments, why should I get so upset over it?

"Okay," he repeats.

But we don't go back. I lay down, placing a hand to my aching head and closing my eyes. The peaceful sounds of the night blend together like a soothing lullaby. Combined with the soft bed of grass, and the faint smell of James's cologne, I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of drowsiness.

"Sweet dreams," a voice breathes in my ear and I feel a warm hand brush back my hair.

I'm too tired to open my eyes or even lift my arm to hit him.

"I'm falling, I don't know why or when it started but I think I'm falling-"

The whispering voice in my ear fades and I let the tide sweep me into the shores of sleep.

A/N: Hello again, thanks so much to everyone that took the time to review. The next chapters should be up soon! Please tell me what you think!

-->