saint

“I haven’t seen James; is he alright?" she asked with shyness.

Sirius let out a low, huffed breath, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared back into the fire. "He ran himself into the ground all week. Didn't eat, didn't sleep. Kept flying in that bloody sub-zero gale because he thought the team needed a leader who wasn't flinching."

Lily swallowed hard, her throat feeling tight. "You know, he really cares about you guys."

“About anyone who is in his life, actually,” he said. “He looks like he's careless, but my pal has a big heart for his own good. He carries everyone's weight until he's practically bleeding, and he never asks for help.”

I know that now; Lily thought in her head. It was a truth that had been slowly dawning on her over the past few months, shattering every arrogant stereotype she had clung to since first year.

Sirius shifted, turning his head slightly to look at her sideways through the fringe of his hair. The faint firelight caught the sharp, unblinking intensity in his dark eyes.

"Can I tell you something, Evans?"

Lily met his gaze, her breath catching slightly in her throat. The quiet gravity in Sirius's voice warned her that whatever came next wasn't banter or a playful jab.

"Sure, Sirius," she murmured softly. "What is it?"

He paused, staring into the red glow of the fireplace as if carefully weighing his words, watching a log crackle and turn to ash before he finally turned back to look at her.

“You might think so, but he's not going to wait for you forever; I won't allow it.”

“What?—” Lily blinked, caught completely off guard by the sharp, unexpected turn.

“He spent years making an absolute fool of himself just to get you to look at him,” Sirius continued, his raspy voice dropping into a thread that cut clean through the silence of the room. He didn't say it with malice, but with a raw, protective loyalty that made Lily's breath hitch. "He flew into trees, he challenged half the school, he yelled your name across the Great Hall like an idiot. He tore his own dignity to ribbons because he thought if he was loud enough, eventually you'd see him."

Lily felt a sudden, defensive heat flare in her cheeks. "Sirius, I never asked him to—"

"I know you didn't," Sirius interrupted softly. "And he knows it too. But—”

Before he could continue, she added: "In the greenhouse..." Lily began, her voice dropping low and unyielding, a sharp spark of genuine anger suddenly igniting behind her green eyes. "When I asked him right to his face if he still had a crush on me, he said it was just some old ‘childhood thing’!"

She sat up straighter, her knuckles turning white where they gripped her knees as the frustration flared out of her.

"He looked me in the eye, Sirius, and brushed it off like it was nothing!" she insisted, her tone tight, defensive, and tinged with a deeper, hidden hurt she didn't want to examine too closely.

Sirius didn't flinch at her outburst. He didn't roll his eyes or snap back. He simply watched her with a calm, unnerving perception, letting the echoes of her anger fade into the crackle of the hearth.

"Because he lied to you, Lily," Sirius said quietly, laying the truth flat between them. "He lied right to your face because he—"

“Stop,” Lily said, starting to stand up. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"He's faced down curse-breakers, dark creatures, and thirty-foot drops off a broom without blinking," Sirius whispered, leaning his forearms on his knees, his grey eyes locked onto hers. "But the idea of losing you now? After he finally built a bridge between you two? It frightens him to death. He thought if he admitted how deep it actually goes, you’d throw your walls right back up and walk away. So he gave you the answer he thought would keep you close."

The words hung in the quiet room, dropping with the undeniable weight of iron.

Lily stood frozen, her fingers still clenched tightly, her heart thrashing violently against her ribs. The sharp, defensive anger that had flared up seconds ago vanished.

He lied to keep me close.

The realization tore clean through five years of easy dismissals, comfortable pride, and self-preservation. Every time she had called James Potter arrogant, every time she had brushed off his antics as a game, shattered into dust right in front of her.

He hadn't brushed her off in the greenhouse because he was over her. He had swallowed his own heart, hidden his true feelings behind a casual half-truth, and handed her a safe lie just so she wouldn't run away.

"He’s my brother, Evans," Sirius added softly, his raspy voice dipping lower as he turned his face back toward the hearth. "He did the work. He grew up. He became a man you could actually rely on—for his friends, for his team, and for you. But if you’re just going to keep him suspended in some safe, comfortable limbo because you're too terrified to trust it..."

Sirius paused, his grey eyes catching the dying amber embers in the grate.

"...I won't let him destroy himself for a ghost," Sirius murmured, his tone devoid of malice, carrying only a raw, fierce loyalty. "He deserves someone who actually sees him. Someone who doesn't make him apologize for loving her."

The silence that followed was absolute.

Lily felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head. Her mouth opened, a sharp retort rising to her throat, but the words died before they could form. She had no defense. She had no clever comeback.

Images flashed through her mind in a dizzying blur: James drenched in sleet at the Great Hall door; the devastating, heavy heat of his hand sliding beneath the bench to cup her thigh; the quiet, selfless way he carried the crushing burden of Remus's secret; and the raw intensity in his dark eyes whenever he looked at her behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

It hadn't been a game. It had never been a game. He hadn't given up; he had quieted down so she could breathe.

Sirius didn't press her any further. He gave her one small, quiet nod. “Goodnight, Evans,” he finished, standing up and leaving her.

Lily stood there for a long, agonizing second, her legs feeling strangely hollow beneath her.

The brass needle seeking a fresh groove on dark vinyl eventually replaced the wilder beats with a gentle, repetitive scratch.

The room's frenetic energy subsided, turning into a deep, golden mist. The parquet floor was covered in long, swaying shadows as spell-lit lanterns faded to a soft amber glow. The large space felt suspended in time, a peaceful haven carved out against the bitterly cold winter night outside, as the aroma of cedar smoke, spilt spiced cider, and sweet plum tarts permeated the air.

Mama, take this badge off of me

I can’t use it anymore

Across the polished floor, Marlene was still holding Remus by both hands, swaying back and forth. Remus was laughing softly, a rare, unguarded sound, his usual cautious posture entirely relaxed as he let Marlene spin him in a clumsy, slow circle. Near the fireplace, Mr. and Mrs. Potter sat together on a velvet settee, Fleamont’s arm draped comfortably over Euphemia’s shoulders as they watched the young people with quiet, proud contentment.

Lily stepped back from the noise, leaning her shoulder against a stone archway in the corridor. Her heart was full, but the sheer, blinding contrast between this room and the bitter, suffocating silence of her house made a quiet, aching knot form in her throat.

It’s getting dark, too dark to see

I feel I’m knockin' on heaven’s door

She thought of the narrow, cold kitchen. She thought of the bowl of apples, the sharp click-clack of Petunia’s high heels walking out of her life, and the grieving lines around her mother’s eyes. For sixteen years, Lily had believed that her home was that small, brick house in the smog, standing here in the shadow of the archway, wrapped in the overwhelming heat of people who truly saw her; Lily felt the final shatter of that illusion.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

She wasn't being evicted from her childhood; her childhood was simply over. The girl who had hidden her magic in a tiny bedroom, who had tried so desperately to hold onto a sister who hated her and a best friend who had chosen darkness, didn't exist anymore.

A gentle footstep sounded against the stone floorboards beside her.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

Lily didn't have to look up to know it was him. He didn't crowd her space, nor did he break the sacred quiet of the song. He simply stood an arm's length away, leaning his shoulder against the opposite side of the archway, his dim brown eyes catching the firelight behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He held two fresh goblets of warm cider, offering one to her with a silent, steady patience.

As Lily reached out and took the glass, her fingers brushing his warm hand, the raw ache in her throat smoothed out into something steady and profound.

Mama, put my guns in the ground

I can’t shoot them anymore

The final vestiges of her neighborhood vanished with the music as it floated out into the snow-covered night. Lily inhaled deeply and slowly, turned to face the ballroom's golden light, and at last allowed herself to go home.

That long black cloud is coming down

I feel I’m knockin' on heaven’s door

James looked at her profile; at the delicate curve of her cheekbone in the silver light, the auburn hair falling over her shoulder, and the quiet, lingering shadow of sadness still resting in her eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" James asked softly. He didn't demand an answer. His tone was light, respectful, and entirely free of pressure.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

"No," Lily murmured gently, shaking her head. She turned her face toward him, her eyes clear and surprisingly steady in the dim firelight. “Not now.”

The rest of the manor had settled into a cosy, late-night stillness by this point.  

Lily moved away from the doorway and toward the ballroom's center, her socked feet making no noise on the dark walnut wood. James trailed behind her, standing at a leisurely pace next to her as they both gazed up at the enormous leaded window that framed the snow whirling across the gardens outside.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven’s door

Lily moved away from the doorway and toward the ballroom's center, her socked feet making no noise on the dark walnut wood. James trailed behind her, standing at a leisurely pace next to her as they both gazed up at the enormous leaded window that framed the snow whirling across the gardens outside.

The last minute of the year was marked by a low, resonant pre-chime from the clock's brass pendulum.

Three.

Lily set her glass on a table, then she turned her full body to face him. The tiny heat in her chest bloomed, pushing away the last ghost of Evans Lane.

Two.

James took a small step closer, reaching out to gently adjust the collar of her cardigan, his delicate fingers lingering for a fraction of a second against the side of her throat before sliding down to catch her hand. Lily didn't pull away. Instead, she slid her fingers between his, squeezing tight.

One.

"Happy New Year, Lily," James said, his hazy eyes catching hers in the soft, gilded gloom as the grand clock struck midnight and rippled out into the silent, white night.

so tell me if u like this, if u do, tell me if it is ao3 kind of material!!!!

The start of their sixth year at Hogwarts brings a profound shift for Lily Evans, beginning on Platform 9 ¾ where her long-time anchor, Severus Snape, is absent. Following his unforgivable insult the previous term, Lily spent the summer erecting emotional walls to bury her grief over their broken friendship and block out the looming threat of the dark forces rising in Britain. Returning to school, she braces herself for the usual obnoxious, performative antics of James Potter, only to learn that Sirius Black has fled his abusive family to live with the Potters. Armed with her new Prefect badge and rehearsed set-downs, Lily prepares to keep James at arm’s length, while her friend Mary urges her to stop mourning Severus’s choices.

However, Lily's defensive armor is rendered useless when she finally encounters the Marauders. Rather than launching into his usual grand, arrogant routines, a matured James quietly acknowledges her with a subdued, polite greeting before turning his full focus toward fiercely protecting a traumatized Sirius and supporting a weary Remus. At the Welcoming Feast, the somber atmosphere deepens as Lily watches Severus sit alone with future Death Eaters at the Slytherin table, completely ignoring her. Meanwhile, James continues to act as a quiet human shield for Sirius, completely shedding his former vanity and showing a newfound, grounded maturity that leaves Lily feeling strangely disoriented and stripped of her expectations.

Later that evening, Lily and Remus carry out their Prefect patrols through the castle's shadowy corridors. During their rounds, Remus gently opens up about Sirius’s painful escape and James's devoted support, while also validating Lily's unspoken grief over losing Severus. He reminds her that it is okay to mourn a lost friend even if they chose an unforgivable path. Surprised by his quiet empathy, Lily finds herself softening, realizing that she doesn't have to carry her emotional burden entirely alone, and the heavy knot of isolation in her chest begins to lighten.