oh deery, deery me

She crawled beside him, noticing the hand that soothingly traced lines up and down her arms, but refusing to take comfort from it. Lily did not want to be calmed down, she wanted to be furious. It seemed the only way in which she could actually do something. That did mean having to fight against James’ low voice and the steady, trusting expression in his eyes, to which Lily nearly automatically softened. 

It was hurt she was feeling as much as anger, she knew that, but a further analysis wouldn’t do much good. She had been rejected many times, by people, by this world and perhaps it was a sore spot. Anger was a better feeling to indulge in. It could be useful. That was a dangerous thought - Lily had never wanted to be governed by anger. In fact, she had done so once before, with Bellatrix, and had ended up regretting it. The memory of that - particularly conjured by the mirror image of James lying in a hospital bed and herself beside him - made her try to check the impulse. Her head turned into James’ neck, where she breathed in the scent of him, only slightly spoiled by smoke, in the hopes of ceasing the blood boiling underneath her skin. 

The anger had settled into a more comfortable position, not gone but settled when she lifted her head again. In his eyes she could see her own heartbreak reflected. “The last thing we need is another enemy to fight,” Lily began, though warmed by the fierceness of James’ support.  “I can’t hold it against the hospital. Whatever motivations they have, well, it hardly feels as if we’re short of enemies already. And I know which ones I’d rather see pay.” The firmness in her voice spoke of the anger that did still remain. “But - thank you.” He was always somehow exactly what she needed. “ I want to be there for your parents. And I suppose it’s a little selfish as well. I want them to make me feel better too.” Her eyes lingered on him, betraying the love in her heart, and that ever present fear, only just reassured by his presence. Losing this would hurt. It would hurt more than she could imagine now, when Lily did indeed almost feel as if James’ very presence could heal any pain she felt. 

She looked down as he pulled on her hand and followed the movement to his chest, where Lily closed her eyes, simply feeling the level beating of his heart. For all it had been through, it kept going, and if Lily hadn’t known what had happened, she’d have believed James as healthy and hearty as anyone in the world. She did know, though and could only keep her hand light on his chest. “I know you’re not leaving. I tried my best to detach James Potter a long time ago, but then it turned out I loved you with all my heart and I couldn’t do it,” she had begun light-heartedly until it had rung with a painful and blunt honesty. Returning her gaze to his, she said, “I’ll take you battered anyday. I mean it. Whatever darkness you think is on your hands now, you’re wrong. I’ve known you since we were eleven years old, and I’m going to know you until we’re lying under the snow, alright? That’s a promise.”  

Only James could make her laugh right now. Lily gave in to the impulse, then abruptly stopped, feeling like tears all over again. “Yes, I do want you to do that,” she admittedly honestly, in a low voice which did not conceal the rawness of the feeling in it. To have James be hers right now was precisely what every instinct called for. Not that she could protect him any better that way, but it felt like it would do so. “But I also know we’d regret not having our friends. So I suggest a compromise. A proper wedding, like we’d planned, but what are we waiting for? I don’t need anything but you. What do you say to the end of the month? Halloween? I know that’s only a few days, but I want this, James.” He hadn’t said no, and he was smiling. Lily hoped the idea made him happy.  She herself felt set ablaze by it, reawakened after the combination of grief, waiting and fear had so weighed her down. 

The feeling of Lily pressed beside him was one that James was both used to and also certain that he would never get used to. He can feel the tension practically radiating off her, despite his ministrations and he had a very strong feeling that it would be a long while yet before she truly calmed down. He understood why, of course, he did, if there weren’t about eight different potions running through his veins at that moment, James was sure that he’d be just as angry as Lily was.

Instead, however, he just felt numb.

Numb from the pain, from the grief, from the worry. From knowing his family could have lost far, far more than just their house and their beloved elf. It was difficult to mourn when the most important person in the world (equal, of course, to Sirius) was beside him, was safe, but James knew that the time would come when the pain of it all finally hit. When the guilt followed suit. It was because of him that Adi was dead. It was because of him that the house was gone and that his parents’ fates were caught in the balance. If anything, he was just overwhelmingly glad that Lily had not been there with him. That he hadn’t had another person to protect at that moment. 

As Lily turns her head, James moves his hand to rest on the back of her skull, gently stroking her hair more for his own comfort than anything else. He had always been besotted by her hair: the length and the colour and the feel, and it remained one of his absolute favourite things about his fiancee; one of many at that. “Imagine that,” he attempts to joke, despite the weakness of his grin, “Voldemort and his cronies on one hand, and then we’ve gone and pissed off the St. Mungo’s healers on the other. Not sure who I’d worry more about facing.” James’ smile grows a little stronger at Lily’s words and he nods his head firmly. He didn’t care what he had to do or who he had to argue with: he’d get her in to see his parents if it was the last thing he did. “They’d want to see you, I know they would. Reckon Mami loves you more than she’s ever loved me, to be honest. And you know she’s obsessed with me, so that says a lot.”

James’ hand is steady as he holds Lily’s against his chest, against his beating heart. He’s certain that it skips several beats and speeds up at the feel of her touch; forever a giveaway to his true feelings, but it felt as though they were a long way from simple platitudes as such. Lily had his entire heart and his soul, and James was certain that no matter their young age, there was simply no one else out there for him. No matter what happened during this war, no matter where they ended up, James was certain that he would fight harder, knowing there was someone to live for.

And if it came to it, he was equally as certain that he now had someone to die for as well.

“I’m pretty hard to get rid of, I’ll admit,” James says, his voice steady, “It’s because I’m so lovable.” Lily’s words strike a deep, sensitive chord inside James and his lower lip wobbles a little as he gazes heavily at her face. “I love you more than anything, Evans. I mean that. No matter what we’ve both done. I just...I need to accept it myself, I s’pose. Never thought I’d be this person, and it’s hard...it’s hard to consolidate being the bloke you love, with being the bloke who’d do such a thing.” A bloke like Snape.

There was no need to explicitly name names, they knew each other well enough to not need to, and James forces himself to shove the thought down as far as he could. It was not the time, and no matter his grief and guilt. James knew that he would never make the choices the other had. He couldn’t make those choices.

Smiling brightly, James attempts to scramble to a sitting up position, shifting Lily beside him before he flops back down with a pained grunt. “I’m a pretty shoddy groom right now, to be honest. Not even sure they’ve changed my pants since all of this, and I can’t even get up to get our celebrant,” he says, laughing a little at the situation. He felt unnecessarily giddy with the thought of Lily becoming his wife in mere moments, no matter the inconvenience of the situation, and James yearned for the possibility. “Could you imagine Sirius’ whining? He’s already upset I didn’t invite him to the proposal, as if I planned it for when it happened. But Evans? I’d marry you anytime and anywhere, so you suggesting my favourite holiday?” He grins, “I’d get down on one knee and propose again if I could right now. That sounds great. Anything that makes me your husband as soon as possible works for me. I want this to be official. You to be a Potter, or me an Evans, whatever we want to do. I want it. I want you.”

lvpinremvs‌:

“To James,” Remus repeated after Peter and lifted his glass, his grin only growing wider. It was wild to think that James and Lily ended up together after their history. But they were perfect for each other, and Remus couldn’t be happier to be here celebrating with the people that meant the most to him. He took his shot, but not as gracefully as James did. Firewhiskey was something he tended to shy away from because of how badly it burned his insides, but it did spread a warmth throughout him that he did enjoy.    

“Rosmerta was easy, all I had to do was put on my best smile and blink my luscious lashes at her a couple times.” Remus laughed, imitating the actions, “That’s not true, actually, it was much simpler than that. I asked her if she could get me in touch with her liquor supplier so we could make sure we had a lot of alcohol for the night. She questioned why, I told her it was for you and she just offered the place. I wasn’t going to say no to that.”

He blinked at his questioning on Sirius. What did happen to him? “Oh, Sirius came with me. I think he said he was going to take a nap, beauty sleep and all that.” Remus chuckled and rolled his eyes, “Not sure which room he went up to, I was busy setting up, but we could always go find him and put Peter in his bed to wake him up.” He smirked and lifted both his brows at Peter, “That’d give him a mighty scare.”

“And his tenacity and Lily’s clemency,” Peter added impishly, he didn’t usually try jokes despite thinking of them but around his friends he felt brave enough to try. Taking the shot himself he pursed his lips at the burn and set the glass down, idly waving his wand once to lift the bottle of firewhiskey and give everyone a refill. This was only the first of many after all, the night was promising to be what a glorious disaster… Which, to be fair, summarised many of their school shenanigans.

“Against all odds we must’ve made a good impression.” he said quietly with a small shrug, though his little grin quickly turned to a look of horror at the idea of sticking him in Sirius’ bed, “No thank y-you! I’d see things and be scarred for life!” The thought alone was enough to have him knocking back the next shot, “Unless most of the girls in out year I’ve no desire to get into Sirius Black’s bed.”

‘Wormy you little lair!’ Came a boisterous cry from the stairs followed by a loud bang as Sirius jumped the last few to join them. He strode over and wrapped an arm around Peter’s neck, pressing his lips into the other’s hair to leave a sloppy sounding kiss, ‘You’d love it and be hooked. My Love!’ he declared, completely by passing James to drag Remus into a one armed hug and take a seat between him and James, ‘Potter.’ he said with barely a nod, picking up his own shot and playing coy, smirking at the other two on the table, ‘Meeting for anything special are we?’  

@redandgoldenboy​  

His gaze moving to each of his friends in turn, James can’t quite keep the smile from his face. Were he not aware of the circumstances of their meeting, it would almost feel like they were back at Hogwarts again. Sneaking into the Three Broomsticks, trying to convince Rosmerta to pour them Firewhiskey despite her knowing they were all underage. And yet now they were all very much of age, and he at least was getting married of all things!

“Rosie loves us. Or at least Sirius and I,” James says, adjusting his grip on his glass as his eyes shine teasingly, knowing that the barmaid had an awfully big soft spot for them all. Unable to stop himself from laughing, James nudges Peter gently with his shoulder, mockingly frowning at Remus in return. “Come on Moony, that’s unnecessary. Pete doesn’t need to be scarred anymore by the fact Sirius likes to sleep in the buff. Hasn’t he just escaped seven years of that?” 

Sirius’ presence almost immediately fills the room, as he is wont to do, and James’ smile only grows at the sight, watching as his best friend flings himself at Peter. Lifting his glass in a subtle salute, James shakes his head, pasting a bored look onto his face. “Black,” he responds, taking a sip of the warm liquid. “Just a meeting of men. Nothing too significant.” 

Lily had barely paused for breath once she’d walked back inside James’ hospital room. In a way it was like old times, she could remember going off on many rants during their days as Heads while James patiently listened to her. Never had it been quite like this, however, where he looked up at her bleary and confused as he took in what she was saying from a hospital bed. 

If she hadn’t still been so angry, Lily would have felt guilty. After all, he was the one hurt and hurting, the one who had lost everything. But not even the sound of James carefully trying to understand really shook her out of the spiralling anger Lily was feeling. It wasn’t the hospital, not really, though that was part of all of it. They were only the last to try and put what felt like a severing wedge between Lily and James. The worst of it was who she should really save her anger for, whoever had put James here, in the bed. 

With a sigh, she took a seat in the space he was indicating in, her muscles relaxing as she sat even as she remained tense. It was probably a sign of how well James knew her, that he was trying to stop her from pacing and working herself up further into anger. “That got me in to see you. Apparently, it doesn’t quite extend to your parents, especially since you’re conscious and their next-of-kin.” Lily tried to explain it calmly, to not let the hurt and frustration she felt over being denied entrance spill over and be taken out on James. He’d done nothing but let her into his family. That was what really burned, the world denying them the truth that they knew. As if Lily and James didn’t have the right to decide what they were. 

She knew for St. Mungo’s, it had absolutely nothing to do with her blood. She worked for them, didn’t she? It was only paranoia telling her that if she’d been a pureblood they might have let her go in. Yet re-examining James’ injuries reasserted the fact that there were others who wanted to rip them apart as well and that was about her blood. Far from feeling afraid over it, right now, Lily felt she could spit in the face of anyone who dared attack them and then send them a wedding invitation. 

Something softened inside of her at the sight of James’ relief. Only to feel upset all over again at the thought that she could have brought him more comfort with a message from his mother. “I’d just have liked to tell Euphemia that you’re alright,” Lily said tonelessly, in response to his attempts to soothe her. “From me. Not a Healer who doesn’t really care whether you live or die-” she broke off, the tightening of her throat making it difficult to speak without the fear that she would break back down into tears.  She needed to stop imagining that worst outcome. James was still alive, she was looking at him, barely moving her eyes away in fact, and the softest brush of his fingers against hers was a reassurance. 

She had never really loved anyone or anything the way she loved James, had she? It had been too long for Lily to still startle over the realisation, whenever it hit her, but there was still that moment of sweet surprise every time. The gentle teasing was near enough to distract her from the burning sense of purpose, at least for the second it took her back to that moment in the alleyway, until Lily realised he hadn’t caught on to her meaning. “James, I meant now. I meant - as soon as we can.” Her voice was quiet but intense, she didn’t want him to misunderstand this time. “I don’t want anything like this to happen again.” Lily took a deep breath, “I want to be your wife. Now.”

Were it any other situation, James might have allowed himself a brief moment to admire just how passionate Lily looked when she was angry; a deep flush was burning up her neck and her green eyes were flashing with disdain. It was, however, a highly inappropriate moment to be thinking any of that, so James chooses to settle back on his pillows instead, shoving his glasses up his face so that they sat better on his nose.

It had to be something significant to have riled her up as it had, given all that had happened and the current condition James was in. Not that he felt anything more than the numb haze of several potions, but he knew Lily would normally be treating him with kid gloves, as if he were so fragile he might break at any point. Her anger, however, seemed to be fueling something else, something that honestly concerned James even more. 

Curling an arm warmly around Lily as she settles into the space beside him, James automatically begins to stroke his hand gently up and down her arm, still feeling the way her entire body had tensed. It was not to do with him, he knew that, knew that they were both completely and utterly comfortable with one another, but he hoped the action might ease her even a little. “That still doesn’t make sense of them. So the engaged card works to get into see me, but it doesn’t get you in to see the people who are pretty much already your in-laws?” James says, knowing he was simply repeating the facts as he tried to wrap his head around it. “And I wasn’t conscious when you left. Passed out as the door closed, actually, so you really were the next-of-kin then.” 

Already his own anger was starting to bubble inside of James, and a part of him wondered if it was finally time for him to start pulling the ‘rich kid’ card. There was no pretending that the Potter family had not done quite a few things for St. Mungo’s in their time; Fleamont himself had often brewed potions for the hospital on a freelance basis once he had returned. Surely James only needed to drop the family name a few times in order to get Lily approved to visit his parents? It was to be her name one day after all.

Pressing a kiss to Lily’s cheek, his hand still rubbing gently at the skin of her arm, James releases a long, low sigh, taking a moment before he next speaks. His relief about his parents is only short-lived; now replaced with his own frustrations. “I know, Evans,” he says softly, not needing to raise his voice. “We’ll get you in there, I’ll hunt down whoever it is that I need to talk to.” Merlin only knew that James would gladly tear the world down for her if she so requested. “And I’m okay, I promise, look-” Taking Lily’s left hand carefully in his own, James presses it to the side of his chest, letting her feel his heart thumping under his skin. “I’m alive and I’m here. Battered for sure, but I’m not leaving you anytime soon, alright?”

lvpinremvs‌:

Remus felt himself relax when Peter confirmed that James had in fact been invited to his own stag party. All of their hard work and planning would have been useless if the person they were honoring didn’t even show up. He smiled as he watched the spinner go around, “You’ve always had such magnificent ideas, Peter.” Remus practically sang, it had been awhile since he’d had something exciting to look forward to and he could hardly contain his excitement. “I suppose now all we have to do is wait. Care for a drink? Rosmerta said we could help ourselves to anything at the bar, so we better clear her out.”

He made his way behind the bar, a place Remus thought he would never get to see, and scanned the bottles of alcohol along the wall until his eyes fell on Bungbarrel Spiced Mead. It was a strong alcohol and he figured it would be an easy way to get drunk quickly. Almost skipping back in to the seating area of the pub, Remus plopped himself down in one of the chairs, a grin spread wide across his face. “D'you think James’ll have fun? I know he’s still recovering so we’d better go easy on him.” Although it seemed as though he was speaking to Peter, he was really just speaking his thoughts out loud, “I hope he gets the polyjuice potion, I can’t wait to see his reaction.”

Not much time had passed before James arrived, Remus’ grin only grew wider at the sight of him. “Oh, you’re in for an incredible night, mate.” He mused, reaching for his wand to lock the door of the pub behind James. “We’ve been given full access to The Three Broomsticks, a wedding gift from Madam Rosmerta. Full access to the bar, all the rooms are vacant. We’ve got a game of roulette. Just one last night to go completely wild before you’re tied down forever.” Remus was sure Lily would always let James do whatever he wanted, but it was tradition for a groom to have a stag party and they weren’t going to just let that pass by, even if it was mostly for the sake of a pun.

Peter laughed quietly at Remus’ disposition, “You’re in a good mood.” It was encouraging though, maybe tonight wouldn’t be a terrifying disaster that he was somewhat expecting. “But I have to say I’m p-pretty proud of it. Should make picking our potions a l-little more interesting.” When Remus moved on to suggest alcohol he nodded, “I guess we might as w-well get started, this is gonna be a wild night.” He licked his lips in thought for a moment before saying, “I’ll have a firewhiskey.” He didn’t usually go so strong but it was his mate’s stag do, so why not?

When Remus returned with his own drink Peter shook his head and grabbed himself a bottle of firewhisky, leaving some money in the space where the bottle had been since he still felt a little bad about taking her place over for the night. He nodded as he made his way to the table, “He’ll have a great time, I’m sure. You’re here and he likes you.” He poured himself a shot and added, “So long as we plan on keeping things human for the night he shouldn’t stress himself.” Peter snorted, “Especially after who’s hair we put into it.” he flicked the spinner to test it and was bringing the shot towards his mouth when he heard the door open.

He smiled a little shyly while Remus went on about the shenanigans that would come. “Or, one more n-night to celebrate you and Lily t-taking your next step together.” he waited for the other to sit down and gestured to the full array of potions in shot glasses, “We e-even cast a colour blending charm on them so we don’t know which is which anymore. And w-with these small amounts they should wear off in about twenty minutes.” he poured another shot of firewhiskey and passed it to James, “But before we start we should have a normal shot together r-right?” he asked, lifting his up slightly and waiting for them to do the same. “To a g-g-” he paused, swallowed and tried again, “To James.”  

@redandgoldenboy​

Trying hard not to expressively show his limp as he walks, James lifts one hand to wave leisurely at his best friends, unable to quite stop the smile that spreads across his mouth. He felt as though he had spent half of his life wasting away in St. Mungo’s as of late, and it was nice to be out and about. While he loved that Lily had visited him for hours on end while he was trapped and that they were able to come to some fairly conclusive decisions regarding their wedding, he would have much preferred not to be in a hospital bed when it was decided.

And now, if anything, he was just extra pleased that not only was he free, but he got to celebrate his impending nuptials with his favourite people in the universe, outside Lily herself. Settling himself into the chair with ease, James rests both hands heavily on the table in front of him, taking the proffered shot with a grin. Raising it into the air, James can’t help the laugh that bursts from his lips, shaking his head lightly. “And here’s to the fact I won Lily Evans over in the end,” he says, amusement tinging every word.

Tossing back the shot, James can feel it burn as it slips down his throat, before settling warmly in his stomach. He places the glass back on the table with another smile, glad for the cozy warmth the Firewhiskey had brought, as he glances about the empty room. “Two things; what’d you have to give Rosie to get her to give this place up for you tonight? And also where’s the best man? He wouldn’t miss this, would he?” 

And you, me. For the rest of our lives. His words echoed as she left the room, a sign of devotion that could hardly shock Lily, not after everything else. But the fact that James had to utter them from his hospital bed, a situation that couldn’t help but feel familiar, only reminded her of how likely it was those lives would be short. Her head was ringing with adrenaline and the remnant of fear, but that thought was clear.

It was being realistic, not pessimistic, even if there was a stubborn hope remaining within her that it was not so. But if it was true, really true and she knew it was, that they might not have forever to live, then did she really want to be a coward, and let the fear the Death Eaters were trying to spread succeed? They wanted to make others afraid, to show that they had the power over others – and that simply wasn’t true. She would marry James, because it was theirs and no one else’s to decide. Who knew when that would be possible, with this new setback. The Potters would be displaced and James probably not ready for a wedding for some time, she knew, as Lily briskly strided the length of one ward to another. She would have to be rational about it, and patient, despite the fervent desire this recent brush with death was inspiring within her.

The most important thing was Fleamont and Euphemia. That was her priority, grabbing the hand of a Senior Healer as she walked by, her grip tighter than necessary in her urgency. Lily could see how white her fingers appeared, how tense her hold was. “Where are Mr. and Mrs. Potter being treated?” But what she was told was not what Lily had expected. Not family. You can’t go in. Sorry, Evans. I’ll let you read the case file. That last addition, while kind in itself, a breach of hospital rules in itself, only made the tension in her shoulders heighten and her tongue turn sharper. She didn’t need concessions.

Nearly half an hour later, she was out of breath, both from engaging in a heated argument with her superior (which, Lily noted, could be a problem later) and from furiously making her way back to James’ ward. The door slammed behind her, wildly out of place in a hospital, but Lily didn’t have the control of mind needed for control of body. “They wouldn’t let me in.” Approaching his side again with heavy footsteps, she wasn’t sure what she would have done if he hadn’t been awake. Words were spilling out without Lily quite allowing them to go, her distress evident in the inability to control her own pitch, far too loud for the quiet of the room. “I’m not family, so they wouldn’t let me in. I’m so sorry, James. I got a report on how they’re doing, but I didn’t actually see them.”

As angry as she was, Lily could remember, perhaps from the sight of him still frail and vulnerable in the white sheets of the hospital bed, that he must indeed be concerned. “Euphemia is conscious and stable. Your father still needs to take another round of potions, but they think he’ll do better once he’s got those down.” She could take only a few seconds before her mind was back to what had happened. “I can’t believe they don’t think I count as your family! I’m going to marry you! I work here, for Christ’s sake.” Muggle expletives were a danger sign, as surely as if there had been actual smoke coming out of her ears. “What do they think I’d do? I know how to treat a patient.”

But none of that was enough for the hospital’s staff. They hadn’t proved themselves, Lily hadn’t proved herself enough to be counted. 

Her verbal torrent paused, still for only a moment before her eyes locked back on James. Her heart was hammering, both off the adrenaline of her anger and of the sureness that went alongside it - surer than she’d ever been before. “We should get married.” They already were going to, but she meant, of course, now.

The ease with which James finds himself nodding off to sleep was surprising, although he was barely conscious enough to make note of it. There was no denying that he was physically and emotionally drained, that every inch of his body ached desperately for rest. He had previously refused; only giving into what his body had demanded after several Healers had forced a Sleeping Draught down his throat. Upon waking, it was the stress of what he had done that had stopped him from sleeping. Now, however, there was an almost lightness in James’ heart. His worry for his parents remained, as did the guilt and grief of his own actions, combined with Adi’s fate, but his conversation with Lily, the reaffirmation of their commitment to one another, eased something inside of him.

James’ sleep is fitful and brief, as he tosses and turns against the uncomfortable mattress, his forehead creased in concern. A tiny moan of discomfort creeps from his lips, but he doesn’t wake, merely shifting restlessly once more. He doesn’t wake properly until jolted by the sound of the slamming door; his hand grappling for his glasses as he blinks wearily toward where Lily stands. Pushing the glasses up his nose, James shifts so that he is sitting up, ignoring the ache in his legs as he does so. His fiancee was his priority, as she always was. James had no doubt in his mind that he would always put her needs far before his own.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t let you in?” he questions, nose screwed up in confusion as his mind fumbled its way toward understanding. Lily had gone to see his parents. And she wasn’t allowed in? Didn’t she work here? Moving over slightly, James pats the empty space now beside him, gesturing for Lily to sit down. He can see the way her forehead creases in anger; her whole body practically vibrating with rage in front of him. “But you’re...not family? What?” James knows that he sounds daft, simply repeating key words Lily had already addressed, but he cannot quite wrap his mind around the situation. “They told you’re that you’re not family...so you weren’t allowed in the room...they know about us, don’t they? The whole ‘getting married’ thing? That’s a surefire reason for you to be considered family, isn’t it?”

Breathing an inaudible sigh of relief at Lily’s words, at knowing his parents were okay, James allows himself to relax into his pillows once again. It had been numerous hours since he had last seen them, having needed to deal with his own injuries, and the worry had been making him feel sick inside. “Oh, thank Merlin,” he breathes lowly, feeling the lump in his throat loosen slightly. It had been numerous hours since he had last seen them, having needed to deal with his own injuries, and the worry had been making him feel sick inside. Now, instead, he was able to replace that nervous nausea with his own simmering rage. What did he have to do? Fill out a permission slip for Lily to be able to see his parents? ‘I, James Potter, allow for my future wife to see her in-laws?’ 

Reaching for Lily’s left hand, James’ fingers automatically move to brush against her ring; the ring he himself had slid onto her finger. “I’ll go speak to them. You should be allowed in there, more than anyone. It isn’t as if you’re going to be the Healer in charge of them; you’re just going to see them,” he says, trying to make his voice be as soothing as possible, without patronising Lily. He knew how frustrated she must be and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t as equally frustrated at the thought.

His forehead crinkling and one eyebrow quirking upwards at Lily’s words, James can’t help the soft smile that plays at the corners of his mouth, his fingers softly squeezing hers. “We are getting married,” he teases lightly, fingers poking at her ring once more, his heart filled with nothing but love for her at that moment. He could barely think of how only moments earlier he had been prepared to break everything off, if that was what she had wished. “I didn’t get down on one knee in that alleyway and bare my heart and soul to you for nothing.”

lvpinremvs‌:

Only a few weeks had passed since James and Lily’s engagement and many events had happened since. James was attacked, his house burned to the ground and his house elf had sacrificed herself for James and his family. As his best man, Sirius was supposed to organize a stag party for James, but Remus and Peter knew he was barely responsible enough to remember to brush his teeth in the morning, and took it upon themselves to come up with something fun for them to do together as a way of letting loose before the wedding. Remus and Peter had spent the last couple of weeks planning, brewing fun potions for a game they had come up with, and Madam Rosmerta was kind enough to close down the Three Broomsticks for the night to allow them to have the place to themselves.

For once in his life, Remus had showed up early for something, setting up silly decorations and making sure everything was prepared for James’ arrival. He had shot glasses with various potions set up on each table, enough for them to have at least five shots each and just enough for the affects to last about ten minutes. A game Peter had come up with which sent Remus in to a bout of laughter. After finally having everything set up and ready Remus realized he had forgotten one important detail - to let James know that this was happening.

His eyes shot up to the door as he heard it open, Peter quickly entering. Remus could only hope he was smart enough to send an owl to James. “Wormtail! Please tell me you sent an invitation to James, I was so wrapped up in everything else I completely forgot.”

Peter had never really been the partying type, but then he’d never been the mischievous type either and it seemed his friends brought out both sides over the years. He’d really gotten into the potion brewing, despite it being far from his best subject, but it had been for a good cause and he knew all sorts of chaos was going to come this evening. And luckily said chaos had Remus at the helm ensuring it would come to fruition. He’d never imagined himself on a stag party, let alone helping organise one and yet here they were. Thank Merlin Madame Rosmerta had been willing to let some of her favourite troublemakers have the run of the bar for the night. Everything was ready, and now all they needed was the man of the hour himself to get thoroughly messed up.

He apparated to Hogsmeade with a small hand-made spinner made up for the occasion and pushed open the door to see Remus had beaten him there, well already this evening was turning out to be different from the norm. At the question a small smile curved his lips and he pulled his coat off, hanging it over one of the hooks near the door before answering, “I thought as much, don’t worry I s-sent him a letter before I left. James should b-be here in at any moment.”

He walked forwards and placed the spinner down on the table with all the shots, spinning the wheel and watching satisfied as it moved, “I figured we could use this to decide who goes first. The W-wolf is you, the rat is me and s-stag is James.” he smiled.  

@redandgoldenboy​

Straightening up his jacket as he apparates into Hogsmeade, James takes a moment to ensure that his hair was not only appropriately windswept, but that he didn’t look too much like he had just gotten out of St. Mungos. Admittedly he had just done that, but there was no need to look that way. The frequent nightmares that were now plaguing him had led to unmistakable dark circles under his eyes, but he pastes a smile on his face regardless.

His injured leg is slightly stiffer than normal, however, there is a newfound spring in his step. It had been too long since he had spent an appropriate amount of time with Peter and Remus, and while a part of him was concerned with the sudden secrecy and the vague owls, he was still thrilled to see what they had come up with.

Pushing the door to the pub open, glad for the sudden rush of warmth and a refuge from the chilled October air, James almost immediately spots two familiar faces, beginning to plod his way over to where they sat. “Evening, gentlemen,” he says brightly, already shaking his head at the sight of the table in front of them. “What kind of debauchery are you lot planning?” 

Lily often felt as if she was failing on two fronts these days, but it had never been quite so painful as in this moment. What good was the Order if they couldn’t even protect their own? She was supposed to fight with him, they were all supposed to fight together. She could have lost James tonight, and all the while been miles away, oblivious.

Her motivation to become a Healer had been to do some good, to save people from pain, but here she was again powerless. Not supposed to perform so much as Cheering Charm on James. His eyebrows were creased and there was strain on his face, not just from the mental distress, but from the physical agony Lily had no doubt he had once again endured. People broke under less, she knew. Lily had seen it before. And this was the second time he had gone through such a thing. All the worse this time for the added burden of what James had himself done. That was two strikes, then, two ways where she’d done nothing, just sat by. It went against every instinct. She should at least be able to give him comfort now, yet Lily wondered if she was failing at that, too. For all she could feel his warm hand on hers, allow her eyes to rest desperately on James’ frame, she could sense he was distant, lost somewhere inside himself. It made sense and yet her heart still ached, wanting to bridge it. Things were usually simple between them.

At least, for the last year or so it had been. As James brought up their past, his past, Lily still remembered it all.  “No. I can’t disagree with that,” Lily said, keeping her voice steady. It was true. Lily would never say James had nothing to feel guilty for from those days. She had never hated him, but there had been times she’d hated the things he’d done, very much. It hurt sometimes, to remember some of them. There had been things she had still admired about him, his loyalty to his friends, his intelligence, but they had been outweighed by the cruelty. It had made Lily miserable, some part of her knowing James could be so much more. She never would have guessed then how much she would come to admire him in whole, but perhaps that admiration was inextricably linked to the ways he’d changed. “But I don’t know many other people who would ever make the effort to change. To see the worst part of themselves and do better. That takes bravery. Strength. You’ve always had that.” It was a relief to feel the pressure on her hand, it was as if James was reaching out from whatever inner torment he was facing. She lifted his palm and kissed the spot of skin on the back of his fingers. “And I’ll always tell you if I think otherwise.” But for so long now, she had been proud of him. Who else would have listened to what she said, and decided to be better, not because he wanted her, but because where it counted, his sense of justice was stronger and truer than anyone else Lily had ever met? Even now, it was that he struggled with; she could see that. 

Her eyes closed for the space of a breath, her stomach twisting in a mix of guilt and sorrow and fear. That was another consideration, the fact that part of what James had done, he had done for Lily. Each other’s weakness, Lily thought numbly, not for the first time. “People are going to keep threatening me, James. We both know that.” It was still there, at the back of her mind, that it might be far better for James in the long run if he didn’t marry her. But then, would it hurt him any less if something happened to her, if they weren’t married, if they weren’t even together? No. It wouldn’t hurt her any less either. It was so difficult to know what was best but maybe all that mattered was that she had made her choice. They’d both made a choice, to be together, in spite of it all. All she really wanted to do now was remove the broken note from his voice. “I’m safe. We’re both safe. You can’t protect me from everything … but being with you makes me feel safe.” That would never change, no matter what he did. It hurt for his sake, because Lily knew he would struggle to ever forgive himself but in a way, this was just a reaffirmation of what she already knew. James would do anything for those he loved. “That’s part of why I could never hate you. Never.”  

She shivered even now when James kissed her back, feeling vaguely wrong for it. He was still so fragile, so upset, the flicker of pleasure down in her stomach was selfish and out of place. She shifted her focus to meeting his eyes, seeing a touch of his typical determination, steadfastness, return. It was a relief. While she would always want James, scars and all, it was difficult to see him lost. “You have me,” Lily said back fiercely, knowing how entirely true it was. Young they might be, in over their heads they might be, but she couldn’t see her future without him, nor did she want it. 

As much as she didn’t want to leave, the feeling of helplessness was going nowhere. Seeing his parents was something she could do for James, something concrete and real. That might take away some of that pain in his eyes, that might lessen the tension in his heavy shoulders. “I’ll be right back,” Lily promised, her eyes hovering over him, making a careful last check before she let his hand drop. She looked back over her shoulder as she left the room, the further away she had gone, the smaller and frailer James looked. Everything she wanted most was lying in that bed. And elsewhere, his parents, the family that would be hers. It was a new pressure, one she wasn’t used to. So far she’d managed to keep her family out of the war. Everything was different now they were engaged. But she couldn’t regret it. For all the heartache, for all she was torn on what was right, Lily at least knew what she felt. James was her family, and his family was hers. 

When they had agreed to fight a war, James had known that it would come with sacrifice. Voldemort and his followers were too powerful not to imagine that they might lose some, that others might become battered and bruised. How long had it been since Benjy had left Mungos from his injuries? How long had it been since James himself had been discharged? And, more than anything, who would be next?

Lily’s words don’t hurt like they once could have. During Hogwarts, whenever memories of how he had used to behave had emerged, James would often be overcome with guilt and misery, a reminder of the things he had discarded for revenge. As an adult, however, he cannot help but take comfort in their relationship, in knowing that they would never have gotten this far, had she thought he was not worth it. Lily would never have accepted his proposal; committed her life to his, if she didn’t believe that he had changed. Contrary to the beliefs of some: James had not changed his life because of Lily. Had her comments sunk in a little, reminded him that he was better than his behaviour? Yes, of course. But they had not been the sole reason for the shift. Perhaps it had been simply growing up, perhaps it was the result of Sirius’ prank gone too far, James did not know. All he did know, was that this change had been for the better. “Not just a useless Gryffindor legacy,” he remarks, half-joking through a sniff. His fingers are firm around Lily’s, using them to ground himself. He was here, in the present, with her. That was the only place he needed to be right now. She spoke of his strength, but so little of her own, despite the fact James knew she was one of the strongest people he had ever met. “Your brutal honesty is the best conscience I could have,” James says finally. His own sense of justice, of right and wrong, felt so skewed at that moment, that he knew he needed Lily to steer him clearly. Not to put pressure on her, because that was a responsibility he did not need her to have, but to simply allow him to follow her lead and to continue to trust her implicitly. 

James’ breath is low and somewhat staggered as he sucks in a mouthful. He had known from the moment he had started dating Lily, seeing the whispers from the Slytherin table, that their relationship was unlikely to be universally accepted. There were those pureblooded families who had believed the Potter family could be saved; that they could be drawn out of their ‘blood traitor’ ways, and James had practically spat in their faces by dating a Muggleborn. By choosing to marry a Muggleborn. His personal feelings might never even touch on Lily’s blood status, having always viewed it as obsolete and irrelevant, but James knew they were not that lucky when it came to others. “And I would do whatever I had to do make sure they couldn’t touch you.” The surge of protectiveness fills James’ stomach, bolstering the first wave of energy he had felt since he had woken up in the hospital. James knew that these were not simply empty promises, placations to reinforce his commitment. He knew, in the deepest part of his heart, that should Lily come to danger, he would use his body as a shield without a thought. “I feel safe with you as well,” James says, at last, knowing that the ongoing comfort he had begun to feel was from her presence. He may have no longer had a physical home, his childhood memories still burning and crumbling inside the manor that had hosted them, but he knew that he had found another: wherever Lily happened to be. “I don’t...I don’t...I’m not sure I know what I would do without you.” 

The kiss is brief but full of feeling as James pulls at Lily’s lower lip gently with his own before he moves away, knowing it was not the place. Nor, he supposed, feeling the tugging ache in his healing knee, was it the time. The physical contact, however, no matter how small, bolsters something inside him. No matter what he lost, or continued to lose, he still had so much more to fight for. His parents, Lily, the boys. And for Lily to be so willing to remain with him, to uphold their engagement, their wedding, their entire relationship...James was unsure if she even knew just how much such a thing meant to him. “And you, me. For the rest of our lives.” No matter how short they may turn out to be.

He feels bereft as Lily’s hand leaves his, but the heaviness of James’ eyes is enough to distract him. So overwhelmed with Lily’s presence, he had not quite registered the pure exhaustion that had overtaken his body until she was no longer there, her eyes lingering for a moment before she leaves the room. He only faintly hears her reassurances as his eyes flicker shut and James sinks himself further into the sheets of the hospital bed. He would much rather be in his bed at Remus and his flat, or at Lily’s, but the reasonably comfortable mattress and the promise of Lily’s return are enough to placate him for now, allowing himself to give in to the pull of sleep. 

His sleep is fitful, filled with flashing shocks of red light and the crackling sounds of flames. He can see a crumpled figure on the ground, their face contorted with pain, a hand reaching for the wand aimed at their face-

Jerking awake to the sound of a slamming door, James blinks blearily around the room, his glasses having slipped from his face and onto the floor. “Wha’s going on?” he mumbles, reaching aimlessly toward the ground for a moment, before realising it was fruitless. He could not reach his glasses without moving and the stabbing pain in his leg suggests that was not an option. Instead, he continues to squint and blink through the hazy film of his eyes, vaguely recognising the shock of dark red hair in the doorway. “Evans?”

Spreading himself out across Lily’s lounge, James frowns at the pile of parchment in front of him. While he and Lily had high hopes for organising their wedding quickly, to allow them to just be married once and for all, as soon as they could, the reality was turning into something else entirely. It was, after all, remarkably difficult to plan and implement a wedding in merely a few weeks. What was more difficult, he was finding, was working out where exactly they were going to host it. His parents' house was now out, now nothing more than a pile of ashy rubble, and while Sirius had gleefully offered his parents house, James had a feeling Walburga Black would not be nearly as keen. 

Running a hand heavily through his hair, James slumps back against the cushions, his eyes closed before he opens them to the sight of a familiar owl. Pulling the note from the owl’s leg and petting it softly on the head, James unrolls the parchment carefully, quirking one eyebrow at the contents:

"location: three broomsticks, bring yourself and your wand and that's it, we'll handle the rest" 

Well, he supposed. That was certainly something.

She could see it hurt him, the shock, even horror, that Lily was unable to hide. She tried to pull herself out of it, the numb state not helping either of them. It was done. This was James. James. Every part of her called out for her to be at his side, no matter what antipathy she might feel towards the curse he’d used. Unforgivable was just a word. This was James. He meant so much more. 

Maybe part of what hurt was to think she was losing her anchor. She would never have believed James would use an Unforgivable. That had been her safe place, her steadying belief when everything else started to go wrong. When even Lily had surprised herself with what she would do. But was it fair to put James on a pedestal? The problem was that he was so used to carrying people. He never thought of them as burdens, he probably never thought of himself as the guide, but it was true and Lily knew it. He was Sirius’ moral compass, Marlene’s … perhaps even Remus’. And eventually he’d become Lily’s too, the more she had really seen James and the noble heart he had underneath the arrogance and occasional unkindness. His strength had been a comforting thing to cling to. But it wasn’t fair. James could make mistakes as much as any person, Lily had always known that. And this one was a horrible one. One that would bring him down and down until he had no faith in himself left, if she let it. Even now, she could hear the self-hatred in James’ voice and shook her head at him, her eyes pleading.  “If you don’t feel it, then listen to me. You are a good man. If I have faith in anything, it’s that.” Being married meant sharing the burdens, all of them, together, and this one Lily could take on wholeheartedly if not easily. Being messed up together was better than being perfect alone, she would always choose him. That was something Lily had learnt a long time ago. “Did I ever not tell you before if I thought you were doing wrong? If I thought you weren’t living up to the man I knew you were? I think I was always very clear.”

It was different. It was. Even on his worst day James had been nothing like them. Petty humiliations of schoolmates were nothing, nothing, in comparison to the torture, the murders, the vile acts of the Death Eaters. The use of an Unforgivable in the most desperate, more frightening moment he must have faced in all his life … there was no comparison to make. She’d rather take all the force of the curse herself than hear him say otherwise. “And this was nothing like what they do. Nothing. I’m not saying it was right or justified, you know that. I don’t need to lecture you and I don’t have the right, either. You know. But it was nothing like what they do. Please believe that. These are the people who threaten me, James. Me and everyone like me. That’s how I know. You would never … you could never be that. So, please, for me, believe me. You are nothing like them. I don’t care what spell you used.” She would say that over and over, however many times it took. James could blame himself all he liked, but he could not say that. Not to her. Lily wouldn’t accept it. 

She wasn’t sure he was ready for it yet, still so broken and so harsh with himself, but maybe that just made it more necessary, Lily leaning in to press her lips to James’, a soft and delicate touch. “Obligation is the very last thing I feel about you,” she said quietly, resting her forehead against his. It wasn’t the right time to feel a thrill at his declaration, but it was a comfort all the same to know she meant so much. “I love you. I couldn’t face any of this without you … we’ll get each other through. I know we will.” Most days, she knew. There were other times she felt only fear for how this would all end, if they’d survive any of it, but it was more important to believe, especially right now.

It was hard to think how little chance they had of justice. Again. At least with Bellatrix, they knew who their enemy was. This time, nothing. They had nothing to go on. She tried not to let any of that hopelessness show on her face, “And I’d like to see them. They are my family now, after all. Just like you are.” Lily didn’t say it too pointedly, but she did mean it as reaffirmation of what she’d said. She was not giving him up. Never. “We have to just be grateful that that you’re still alive, and they’re still alive.” But Adi was not. There was no getting around that. All Lily could do was focus everything on James, checking her eyes over him once more to reassure herself he was still here. That if she left the room he wouldn’t disappear.

A low, dull ache is spreading throughout James’ body, although he struggles to recognise if it is coming from inside him, or if it stems from the scattering of burns and bruises that paint his body. His knee is stiff as the bones knit themselves back together, and he knows that he couldn’t move, even if he wanted to. If either of them decided it was time to turn their back, it was Lily who would need to. 

The thought of having to face his parents, of their knowing what he had done sends a chill down James’ spine. He knew that Lily was just the beginning; that it wouldn’t be long before his parents found out, before Sirius found out, and he can’t fight the nausea that rocks him at the possibility. How could he ever face those he trusted and cared for the most, knowing that they might never see him the same again? Could he truly live with himself knowing in one moment he had torn down every hope and expectations that his parents had ever had for him? The son they had craved and hoped for, and very nearly hadn’t got? Fleamont and Euphemia had not once expressed disappointment in their son, and yet James had a very strong feeling that this was soon to change; how could it not?

His eyes touch on Lily briefly, allowing himself a few seconds to allow her face to ground him, to centre him back into the moment. He had felt lost and afloat since the moment the first flames began at Potter Manor, and the feeling had only deepened the longer he had spent isolated in his hospital room. Unable to move or leave, the pressure of anxiety had only pressed down on his chest with every moment, and yet...and yet one look from Lily seemed to simultaneously lighten the load and make it worse. He had tried so hard to never let her down, to never disappoint her, and he couldn’t deny that he had perhaps done exactly that. But at the same time she reminded him that he was alive, that he was safe, his parents were safe. They would mourn Adi, they had to, but her sacrifice was not in vain. “I haven’t always been,” James says, voice low. The memory of his fifteen-year-old self swims to the forefront; the taunts and the jinxes and the burning jealousy in his gut. But Lily’s words also break through. She had never shied away from telling him how she really felt, particularly when she spurned his actions. James would be lying if he said that half his moral compass had not been forged under the heady glare of Lily Evans’ disapproval. So perhaps that was why his heart lifted a little, and why he allows himself to reach out and squeeze her hand, feeling her soft skin underneath his calloused fingertips. If Lily had always been the voice in the back of his mind telling him he was being stupid, was he not in fact being stupid in not listening to her? “You were,” he says, and the words are soft but meaningful, and for the first time in days, James feels the slightest weight lift.

As far as he knew; his attacker had fled unharmed. Impacted by the curse, of course, as one would be, but unharmed. James’ own missing memories seemed to suggest that the person in question had been of sound enough mind to organise their own erasure, and under normal circumstances, this would be enough to put James on alert, but all it brings him is relief: he had not killed someone. At this point in time, his hands are clear of blood, although he is unsure how long they will remain that way. War was messy and hard and painful, and he would be wrong to assume it would change anytime soon. “They threatened you,” James repeats, and the phrase is not new. People had been threatening Lily long since her ties to James had been established, and it was only natural (disgustingly so) that the threats would escalate alongside their relationship. There were those who would not stop until they believed those of ‘lesser blood’ were eradicated and the threat of losing yet another pureblooded family, of the Potter line becoming ‘diluted’...James should have expected derision and discord long before a Death Eater had stepped foot into his family’s home. “I needed to protect you.” 

Her lips are warm against his own, and James returns the kiss, still blinking back the tears that drip down his cheeks. His heart is thudding tightly in his chest and he closes his eyes a moment as their foreheads press together. “Me either,” he whispers back, meeting her green eyes through his own bloodshot ones, “I just want you. Nothing else.” His words are loaded in their simplicity, James knows, but he also knows that there were no other words for how he felt: he had only ever wanted Lily in his life, in whatever capacity that came. And now that he had her, and that she had him, there was no pretending they wouldn’t fight with everything to keep it that way. “I love you.”

Allowing himself to rest back onto his pillows, a deep breath finally bursting from his lungs, James links his fingers into Lily’s, squeezing her hand once again and relishing in the gentle comfort. The pressure and uncertainty of not knowing his attacker’s identify still rests at his back, but for at least now, he felt the tiniest bit safe. St. Mungo’s after all, had yet to be infiltrated. “They’re in the same room. Together,” James mouths, head lolling on the pillow. “They’d love to see you, if you wanted to go see them.” There was no denying that his parents adored Lily completely; saw her as the daughter they never had, and were merely waiting for the wedding to make such a relationship official. While James hated to let Lily go, to allow her to leave his sight, particularly given everything that happened, he yearned for a proper update on his parents. An update that Lily, with her Healing background, could give him properly, unlike the watered-down version he was sure he was currently getting. There was, after all, very little that could break him more than he already was.

“Oh.” Lily tried not to recoil at the confirmation that the Cruciatus James had performed had, in fact, been successful. She tried, not wanting to hurt him in such a manner, and knowing it was true enough that she had no high ground in this conversation. But there was such a horror associated with the Unforgivables, even for her as a Muggle-born, and the torturing curse had always seemed the most horrific of the lot. Not even the hollowness in James’ voice could stop her from  flinching a little. It was painful to even picture it, hatred on James’ face like that, the desire to cause suffering. She had, for some time now, considered him her standard of what a good man was. Above that. 

Could she still see him that way, now? She remembered what it had been like, confessing to him what Lily herself had done. Waiting for him to look at her in disgust, waiting for the way James looked at her to change forever. 

“No. No, it doesn’t.” She couldn’t argue with that, knew too well it was impossible to wipe out mistakes. Their hands rested together, neither as bloodless as Lily would have liked.  She stroked her thumb over the back of James’ hand. This was love, this painful, frightening thing, a mixture of horror and the desire to soothe. “You’re eighteen, what do you know? What’s better? People far older and far wiser can’t figure that out. Some don’t even bother. They just keep on hurting people. But you’re still trying.” On the verge of tears, she felt both sick over what he’d done and full of pity for him.  Hatred for the person who’d been his victim, whoever it was. They’d done this to James. James had done it to them. A vicious cycle if ever there had been one.  What was her decision? Side with him or against him, that part was easy. Lily would take James either way. But how did she really feel about it, that was harder to work out. Except for when she caught his tearstained eyes and knew, easily, the truth. “I still look at you and see a good man. A little bruised, maybe. But you’re still trying. That means something, James. Especially to me.” When all she could do was keep trying and feel as if it would never make up for the black mark on her name. All the people Bellatrix had gone on to kill. Perhaps even Adi was on that list. 

It was strangely relieving to hear him say he loved her in return and Lily couldn’t think why, when it wasn’t as if she didn’t know that. Perhaps it was just grounding, the reminder that something was still the same. “I want to marry you. If you think this changes your worth to me, or how I feel, or how badly I want you for the rest of our lives … you’re entirely wrong.” Maybe she wouldn’t have thought he was ever capable of this before it had happened, but it was past time that she knew what this war could do. “We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. But I want to marry you so we can understand … or not understand all of this together.” Little had she thought she would be convincing James to still marry her this evening, when all Lily had been thinking half an hour earlier was how much it could hurt him to be tied to her. 

“It probably was. It’s alright, that doesn’t matter,” she said, the lie heavy on her tongue even if it was said in comfort. Another crime they’d get away with. But Lily couldn’t show her despair, trying to nod fiercely. “I’ll go see your parents in a bit, make sure they’re still recovering steadily. I don’t think you’re fit yet, but I’ll make sure they know you’re alright. And you never know, they might remember something.” She had no doubts about being able to speak to Fleamont and Euphemia, even if she wasn’t allowed on the case, seeing as she was going to be their daughter-in-law. Surely they’d let her … 

The broken sound of Lily’s “oh” sends a knife slicing through James’ heart. He had known there was little chance of her accepting what he had done, he himself was refusing to accept it, but it was something else entirely to hear it. Everything James had done since leaving Hogwarts was for the Order, was for fighting this war, for campaigning against the Dark Arts, and yet in one instant he had ruined all over that. Had ruined his own sense of dignity, of justice, and maybe, had ruined his relationship as well. If he could barely stand to live with himself, how could he ask Lily to do so? 

Her words are honest; she too had done something dark and against everything they were fighting for, but James knows that it isn’t the same. Lily had done what she had to save a life, he had used a curse intended to hurt and had meant it enough for it to work.

The feeling of Lily’s hand in his offers James a comfort he knows he doesn’t deserve, but he can’t bring himself to pull away, certain that it might shatter what was left of him. The trust and companionship between them had always felt so solid, ever since they had taken the step from friends to more, and yet it felt fragile all over again, as if one more wrong step might break everything beyond repair. James had never loved anyone as much or as deeply as he did Lily, and he imagined that he never would. She was his other half, his matching Patronus, had every inch of his soul in her grasp, and he knew that if his own guilt didn’t kill him; losing her would. “What if my trying isn’t enough,” he says through a gasp, voice barely higher than a whisper. He had had hours of waiting to think on this, to question what role he could now play in the world. Was it right of him to continue with the Order? Or had he ruined that too, in one senseless, mindless action. “I don’t feel like a good person anymore. I want to be, Merlin I want to be, to fight against everything they believe in, everything they are, but I don’t feel better than them. Not now.” And how could he? The person he cursed may be gone from his memory, but James knew that he himself was not gone from theirs. How many targets had he now painted on the backs of those he loved because of this? 

Lily’s words burn through him and James lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She still wanted to marry him, still felt the same about him as she had barely an hour previous, and he cannot pretend that he wasn’t believing the complete opposite. He had been bracing himself from the moment the words slipped from his mouth for her to turn tail, to hand the ring, and his heart, back to him, not wanting to tie herself down to a man willing to cause another human being pain. James knew how she felt about Snape doing such a thing, why would he be any different? “I just...I don’t want you to feel obligated. That because you said yes, you need to keep it,” he says, the words aching as he speaks, “I don’t think that ‘for better or for worse’ quite covers this. But…” a pause and a deep breath, “...I want to marry you too. So so much. There’s no one else...I couldn’t face this world with anyone else.” The relief that spirals through him is painful, sinking into his very being, but James has never felt so grateful such a feeling in his life.

James knows that Lily is lying, that were he to look at her face he would see the tell-tale signs, but he chooses to let it pass, knowing that they both needed to believe it, even a little. It was easier than the reality: that one again the other side could commit a crime they would get away with, and there was nothing they could do to change that. They could try to get James’ memory back, but James knew such a thing came with risks: every time memories were modified or toyed with, the more lasting damage that could be done. “They’d like to see you,” he says, having only seen his parents a few brief times since they had all been brought in, “I don’t know what they’ll know. They were upstairs the whole time. In their room, until Adi…”

Her unease only grew as the conversation went on. By this time, Lily felt she knew James well. Perhaps even best, though he was so close to his friends that was difficult to say. And so she could say with confidence that he wasn’t acting like himself. How could he be, with what had happened? But even taking worry, fear and anger into account, something was off. When he pulled away from her hands, Lily knew. Something was truly wrong. Perhaps more than what she’d thought. 

Lily was silent, staring at James with widened eyes, disbelieving. If she’d expected anything, it wasn’t this. It would never have been this. She remembered what she’d told Healer Carrow, that the Killing Curse might be Unforgivable but was at least quick and painless. The Cruciatus was anything but painless. To think of the curse of James’ lips, to think of him using it, the features she loved so twisted, even on a Death Eater … it was something she could scarcely imagine, it seemed so contrary to his nature, and fierce hatred of the Dark Arts. Her mouth was frozen, or perhaps it was her mind. Either way she continued to stare, almost unblinking, while she tried to form words. “Did it work?” The question that came first was quiet, wondering in a distant sort of way. It was, from what she’d heard, the kind of spell that wouldn’t work for everyone. They had to mean it. Intensely and wholly. She couldn’t tell, not from the shame in James’ voice. He’d feel the way even if he hadn’t actually hurt anyone, Lily thought. 

Words came more quickly, fiercely, as she reacted to the pain his voice and more so, him so much as thinking he was like them.  “Do you think any of them regret it? You’re not as bad. You never could be.”  You’re as bad as he is, when Severus had thrown mudblood at her like a curse - those were words of another time. She hadn’t wanted James to defend her back then, but he had anyway and continued to do so without fail. Eventually she’d started relying on that - and relying on him.  Lily was sure, now, even as her mind reeled and she felt sick to her stomach, this had come from the same place. Maybe that didn’t justify it, but she surely couldn’t condemn him either.  She could never see him as anything like a Death Eater, James was the opposite of that. The one person who made her feel safe. Her hand finally moved from where he’d dropped it, reaching out again to find his and clasp onto it tightly, softly stilling his frantically moving hands. 

She almost didn’t understand the end of his confession - call all of this off? All of what? Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before understanding hit. The wedding. Maybe their entire relationship. She felt cold - strange that she’d been thinking about this herself, whether it might be best, but when the idea was actually spoken aloud … “No. James, I don’t have clean hands either. You know that. We were naive to think fighting back wouldn’t change us.” Lily’s voice was sad. She lowered it to a whisper, “I’ve felt … different ever since what happened. But you’re the one who kept me going. I don’t hate you. I love you. What you did … I know you. You didn’t do it because you enjoy hurting people.” 

Her arms wrapped around him, trying to remember to be gentle. But that was difficult when all Lily wanted to do was hold him as tightly as possible, all the more as she felt James’ shaking body against hers. She wanted to rid him of that pain, but it was impossible. The feeling of helplessness coursed through her, hating her inability to truly help him through this. Keeping her voice as steady as she could, with anger and pain pulling at her in equal measures as her hand stroked through his hair, their foreheads pressed together. “No, she shouldn’t. None of this should have happened. But we’re not going to stop. We’ll get justice for her. And we’ll remember her. I’ll always remember her and love her for what she did. I promise you. That’s all we can do, James.”  

The sinking pit inside James’ stomach only seems to grow bigger and bigger with every second that ticks by. His hands shake with anxiety but he cannot bring himself to clasp onto Lily once again, no matter how much he needed her steading presence. He could not make her comfort him, not after what he had done. He did not deserve any sort of comfort, needed to suffer in the cesspool of his own guilt.

James swallows against the tight lump in his throat, refusing to make eye contact with his fiancee, if she would even be that anymore. Instead, he stares down at the plain blankets that cover his legs, one listless hand playing with a loose thread, tugging and tugging at it, it’s unravelling only mimicking his own. So many years of his life he had spent condemning the dark arts, hating those who practised it, giving up Quidditch to fight it, and yet the minute something got difficult, the minute someone said something he didn’t like, he had resorted to it. The words tasted like ash on his tongue and James can’t seem to be rid of the burning. “It worked,” he says, the words hollow, as if reading from a script. The connection between his brain and his mouth feels severed, and yet another crashing wave of guilt rolls over him. He can still envision the nameless figure falling to the ground, twitching with unseen horrors and crippling pain, and James’ nausea intensifies.

“Regretting my actions doesn’t take them back,” James says, voice still emotionless. Hadn’t he learnt that from years of relentlessly targetting Snape? From duelling Slytherins in the corridors? He had attended detention after detention for his actions over the years, had repented, but that didn’t take away the damage. “I am as bad as them. I know better. I should have been better,” James says, barely a waver in his voice, despite the sob that catches in his throat. Lily’s hands are familiar against his, steading the frantic shaking he hadn’t realised was happening, and he cannot help but sink into her gentle grip, lifting his eyes to meet hers for the briefest of moments. James knew that few people in the world were able to settle him once he had worked himself into a frenzy, and Lily was no exception, her gentle presence enough to break through the whirring haze inside him.

The words fall from his mouth almost before James can stop them, and for the briefest of moments, he can feel something crack and break inside him. It felt so long ago since he was truly, unequivocally happy, celebrating their engagement, the next step in their lives; but how could he ask her to tie herself to him now, when he felt nothing like the person he had once been? The forceful nature of Lily’s voice startles him briefly, and James’ eyes flash to hers, distant memories of blood pacts and Lestrange springing to mind as he blinks. “I love you too, of course, I do,” he says, voice gravelly, “That’s why...that’s why I’d understand if you didn’t want to...I just...I don’t know why I did it. It happened, and it shouldn’t have, but I don’t know why I would let myself go there…” 

Closing his eyes heavily, feeling several tears drip from underneath his lashes, James keeps his forehead pressed against Lily’s, her arms steady around him. His body aches, unhappy with the way he is perched, but James refuses to move, needing to be close to Lily far more than he needed to be comfortably laying down. It wasn’t, after all, as if he could go anywhere with his leg as it currently was. “I don’t remember who did it,” James says, voice low, “Everything is there, but the face and the name, almost as if...almost as if it was erased…”

Her heart sunk deep into her chest, buried there like in a grave, as Lily sucked in an intake of breath. Her hand tightened around James, clinging on to him with every drop of strength in her fingertips - it was not a gentle hold at all. It wasn’t surprising, not exactly. Though she hadn’t consciously thought it, perhaps part of her had been expecting this to happen. If not quite from the moment James had put that ring on her finger, then from some time shortly after.  Maybe this attack would have happened regardless of her. 

But the fact that James was still avoiding meeting her eyes frightened her, like almost nothing else could. If he was, deep down, blaming her, he’d hate himself for it. The idea stung, a slow and bloodless kind of torture that might eat away at her if she never said anything. Perhaps worse for him, if he left it unsaid, festering. “If there’s something … more, something you’re not saying … I think you’d feel better if you said it.”  Lily placed her head underneath his chin, raising his head so James would have to look at her.  “Even if it makes you hate yourself, I would never - I would never hate you for anything.” 

She could spare only a flicker of anger for the attacker being unidentifiable. Unpunishable. Again. For her own sake, actions like this, cowardly, cruel actions only made her want to spit in the face of all of them. Stamp down her feet and claim her place in this world all the harder. Fight back all the more, show them they weren’t untouchable. But for James, for his parents …. she had been so, so lucky this time, not to lose them. Adi had paid the price, for her.  She didn’t want that place in this world so badly as to trade another life for it. Maybe it would be better if they didn’t get married … but Lily didn’t think she was capable of ever saying that to James, and certainly not now. 

Watching James cry was one of the worst forms of torment she knew. Lily clasped the back of his neck with her hand, leaning forward to press her lips to his cheek, kissing away tears as best she could. She lingered there, hearing his sob echo, magnified, right next to her ear. “Sometimes … not everyone can be saved,” Lily said softly, her forehead pressed to his, her hand still putting pressure on the back of his neck, a fierce reminder she was there. “People make sacrifices for a reason. Adi made a sacrifice for a reason. It was worth it, to her. You were worth it to her.”  It was the kind of sacrifice few were brave enough to make. She could imagine how painful it must be to accept such a sacrifice, especially for James, who always wanted to save others. “I know it’s hard. I know. But you have to accept it, and … be grateful.”

It would be so easy to drown in guilt. That wasn’t a fate she wanted for James. 

Dimly, in the back of his mind, James recognises the way Lily’s body tenses beside him, how she sucks in a deep breath, her whole body shuddering. He knew that this latest attack would affect her too, that since their engagement, anything that happened to him was simultaneously an attack against her as well. And while he might want to, James could not deny the timing of the event. To happen so soon after their engagement was announced, for Lily’s name to have been so directly brought up, there was no pretending otherwise.

Still keeping his eyes adverted, James takes a low, shuddering breath. Lily had always been able to read him, to read his emotions, and he should not be surprised that it extended to this situation as well. The pit of guilt in his stomach was festering and growing, tainting his every emotion with twisted anxiety, made worse by his inability to guess exactly how Lily would react. Pulling his hand from hers, James meets Lily’s eyes once, before swallowing hard. “I don’t think I’ll feel better,” he says hoarsely, keeping his voice as low as possible, “But I promised to be honest.”

There is a long pause before he speaks again, “During everything, they...the person...they said things. About my parents, about you. And I just...I just snapped.” James links his own fingers, twisting them around and around in his lap, “I used the Cruciatus,” his words are soft but direct, and he knows that there is no taking them back. “I regretted it immediately, but I used it, and I meant it, and that makes me as bad as them. I understand if you hate me, you should hate me. I hate me. And...and...you have every reason to call all of this off, I would understand.” 

Trying to stifle his sobs, to pull himself back under control, James leans heavily into Lily’s touch, needing her familiar scent, the familiar feel of her, to ground him. He had felt so broken, so empty since they were first brought to St. Mungo’s, but right now his chest was full of hurt, an ache like nothing he had ever felt before. James had lost people before: his grandfather when he was younger, elderly friends of his parents, but none of them felt like this, the crushing guilt of knowing that it was his fault. “She shouldn’t have had to make that sacrifice for me,” he croaks through his tears, “She’s always done everything for me. Told me I was her favourite. She shouldn’t have had to die for me.”

His home was destroyed, her surrogate home was gone. With her family still in Scotland and often travelling, she had found a safe haven with the Potters. Now it was gone. She could feel the hurt deep inside her chest, her heart wept for James, for his parents who had been nothing short of wonderful to her. She had spent much time at the Potters, running around after James, annoying him and Sirius and Remus. She had laughed and cried in that house and now it was gone and no new memories could be made there. “I am so sorry, James, so so sorry,” Marlene whispered, her own sorrow easy to detect in the tone of her voice. “Are they-” 

Marlene never got a chance to ask before The Healer returned looking incredibly angry, chastising her and reminding her that she was in a hospital. The blonde-haired girl stepped back from her friend with her hands up in the air, getting out of the way while the furious Healer finished up whatever he was doing to James. She could hardly focus on anything other than her worry and dread. It was not an ordinary fire, she knew that much, none of them would have gotten hurt in that case, they would have put the flames out. 

When the Healer finally left, James was sitting on the bed and she was quick to sit down beside him, her arm tightly around his shoulders as they sat there in silence for a moment. “It was them, wasn’t it?” Marlene asked quietly, but he did not even have to confirm it. She knew, she just knew. They had burned down the home of the Potters, they had murdered her grandparents and her friend, they wanted her and her friends dead too. Fury ignited in her soul and she could feel the heat of her anger burn through her veins. “The Death Eaters.” She practically spat out the name of their enemies. If they had killed James or Fleamont or Euphemia or Remus, who spent a lot of time at the Potters too, she would have stopped at nothing to hunt them down, to find the ones responsible and see them destroyed for daring to take more people from her.

James’ entire body feels heavy and exhausted, every time he moves, yet another limb or muscle or patch of skin aches. He knows the Healers are only doing their job, to make sure that his leg and his knee and the burns all heal properly, but he is remarkably sick of having to peel himself from his bed every few hours, when a very large part of him would simply like to just lie there, unmoving. Keeping Marlene close as she hugs him, James relishes in the contact for a long moment before they separate, his gaze downcast. “They’re okay.”

His answer is brief, barely rushed out before they are separated again and he scowls at the Healers for the interruption. The flurry of spells cast over him are hot and fast, and James shudders against the heat, already thinking back to the feel of the flames against his skin. It is only momentary, but his stomach churns, and he is more than grateful when they step away, allowing him to sink back onto the comfort of his hospital bed, a phrase he never thought he would say.

Resting his head heavily on Marline’s waiting shoulder, James nods, taking a moment before he clears his throat. “It was one of them. Don’t know which,” he says, voice low, “I think my memory got modified, enough to erase who it was, but not to forget what they did.” He can practically feel the rage radiating off Marlene at the moment, and at any other time, James knows that he would be raging alongside her. Right now, however, he just feels tired. “It was fiendfyre. Took the whole thing out. I fought the guy, but he got away, I got distracted...my parents,” James says, unable to stop the emotionless tone of his voice. “We got out, Adi got us out, but she...the rest of us are okay. I’m more injured than Da and Mami are.”

It was stranger than it had ever been, being a Muggle-born now, living between two worlds. A few weeks ago, she’d been at her sister’s wedding, watching her sister dance happily with the husband Petunia had chosen, blissfully confident in the future she was gaining. The worst outcome Petunia could imagine was probably Vernon not getting a promotion in time for Christmas.  And then Lily returned here, to her own world, her own life and worried if the man she was going to marry would survive until Christmas. Athena Fawley was already dead, Severus devastated over it. It could be James and Lily next.

It was so frightening, even if she could feel James’ touch here and now. He was solid and real, but that was no guarantee. Whenever she looked at him, even now covered in bandages with dispirited eyes, he seemed more alive than anyone else she knew. But that was no guarantee either. And yet, if the worst did happen, Lily wanted to be his wife. Even more so, if the worst happened. She wanted that tie, she wanted to be his, no matter what.

Her hand tightened around his, worried by the lack of eye contact. Why wouldn’t he look at her? Lily’s gaze remained heavy on James, refusing to look away, even as the confirmation that he was the target of the attack weighed on her. There were plenty of reasons to go after James, she knew that. He was a known blood traitor, his parents hardly traditional purebloods themselves either. Bellatrix despised Sirius and all who loved him, James most of all. And James was close to Dumbledore. But there was also the persistent thought, that everyone who Lily had spoken to over the past week had congratulated her, because of what they had read in the Prophet. A Muggle-born wife for a notable pureblood son. Even if it was true, James would never say it to her. He was too loyal to blame her, Lily knew that, even if he was thinking it. But he wasn’t looking at her.  Her hand shook slightly, resting on his, before she forced herself to speak. “The timing …” Lily spoke hoarsely. The thought of his parents, of James losing his parents, rested heavily in the space before she could speak again. “The announcement in the Prophet. Did they say anything to make you think that it was because of … me?”

It tore at her, hearing that noise come from James’ mouth. He was so strong, but his parents were his weakest spot. She couldn’t stand the thought once more that it was because of her and hastily pushed it away. “Thank Merlin they’re alright. The Healers will take good care of them, I promise,” Lily whispered quietly, feeling each word fly from her tongue with guilt. Then James started to cry and she stilled at his next words. It was so unfair, so senseless, so cruel. Her own eyes starting to well up, thinking of the kind elf. “We’ll do something for her. A memorial,” Lily said, knowing it was not enough. It couldn’t change what had happened. “She would be … so glad you’re alive. As I am,” Lily admitted, tears falling freely now, half a confession of guilt, that she was relieved James was the one to survive. She let her forehead fall forward, resting against James as she tried to wipe away the tears on his cheek, her fingers clumsy in distress. 

Every inch of James’ body feels heavy with both pain and anguish, as if he had simultaneously yet to come to terms with the events of the night but was also reliving it every second that his eyes flickered shut. He could still see the bright flickering of the flames as they climbed the walls; could still hear the cracking and splintering as the structure of the house came crashing down; could still feel his mouth shaping the word-

The longer he rests against Lily, the more James can himself returning to how he was, even just a little. There had always been something about Lily that allowed him to forget the world around him; to lose himself in her, in them, and not let anything else get in the way. But he cannot push away the thrumming of anxiety that burns in his gut. He had come so close to death, had almost felt its presence behind him, had almost made Lily a widow before they were even married, and James pulls away, his face blank. 

Their hands are still looped together tightly, and James cannot bring himself to take his hand away, even as he avoids eye-contact with Lily. How could he explain to her everything that had happened in that house, every action, every decision? The man who had started it, for James was certain it was a man, even as his name and face escaped him, had said so many things, had done so many things, and yet James had responded. How was he to tell Lily, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, that they had been targetted because of their wedding. That James himself had irreconcilably damaged his own soul in response, letting a curse so aptly named spill from his lips at the mere reference to ‘mudblood’. He feels sick to his stomach at the thought and his heartbeat stammers in his chest. They had said no secrets, but how was he to tell her this? To admit to her yet another failing on what seemed to be a never-ending list of ways he had let her down. 

He had tried so hard to be a better person, and yet he still seemed to be that arrogant teenage boy, hurting others who displeased him.

Frowning, James knows that he cannot lie to Lily, cannot hide the truth, not when she has asked a direct question, but he hates that he has to tell her regardless. “He called you a...you can guess what he said,” James says tightly, “I can’t...I don’t know who it was, I can’t make out their face. He threatened to go after you next. See if you would put up more of a fight than me.”

The tears are hot and salty against his cheeks, and James chews hard on the inside of his mouth, ignoring the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He knows that his parents will be okay, the Healers had assured him of that much; his mother just needed to rest, and once his father’s bout of Dragon Pox had cleared up, he could go home. But James can’t forget just how close he had come to losing them. He knew that it was a possibility, that no matter how much magic there was in the world, people could not live forever, but to have come so close churned his stomach. “She...she…” he starts, a sob catching in his throat, “She got my parents out. She came back for me, but I...I wasn’t there. She died trying to save me…”

James’ voice drops to a whisper, the tears still falling hotly from his eyes as he gasps for breath, hands clutching for purchase against the sheets.