#ilty

Lily glared at him. She felt her cheeks flush with anger... And envy, perhaps? Yes, that's definitely what it was. They were rowing and here he was, the picture of indifference, arms crossed over his broad chest as he leaned on the door frame. She couldn't help but admire that about him.

“And I'll tell you one more thing: this scares you, because I don't fit in any of your little boxes anymore.” His voice was even, but his eyes betrayed him. She hurt his ego, so what? He'd recover. “You have no control over this, over me, and you hate it.”

She let out a humourless laugh. “Didn't know you were such a good judge of character... You'd make a good shrink.”

His mask of apathy faltered for a moment, a flash of curiosity in his eyes. “What's a shrink?”

She would have laughed if she wasn't so frustrated with him. “Nevermind.”

“Fine. And you're right, I am a good judge of character. Better than you, that's for sure.”

She knew exactly where this was going. She wasn't expecting him to bring it up, though. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, he moved towards her, and she noticed how one his hands tugged the strands of hair on his forehead.

He didn't look so calm and collected now. “Don't act as if you don't know what I'm talking about. Or rather, who.”

“You aren't making any sense, Potter.”

She was playing dumb, knowing full well how much he detested that. He wanted to make this difficult for her, fine. But two can play this game, she thought.

And there it was, the tight set of his jaw that appeared whenever her ex best friend was even so much as mentioned in the presence of James.

She knew him so well. She waited for the familiar feeling of satisfaction, the sweet taste of victory, but her stomach lurched unpleasantly.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? It starts with S—”

“Oh shut up. You're an asshole.”

They hadn't moved on from that, had they? What a fool she was, thinking that James was different.

“Sure. I tell the truth and I'm the asshole, but the bloke who called you a slur gets a pass. Ridiculous.”

“You don't know what you're talking about. It's not that simple.”

Severus had been the first person not to call her a freak. And then, a few years later, he had called her something much worse than that. She would not— could not forgive him. But she was allowed to grieve the person Severus once was, wasn't she?

Besides, had James forgotten that his secrets had become her secrets, too? He had forgiven Sirius for almost killing Severus, after all. Surely he could understand her turmoil.

“But it's simple with me, right? You don't need a good reason to write me off and tell me how I can never do anything right.”

Lily sighed defeatedly. She was so tired of arguing. How had she kept this up before? Was their budding friendship making her softer, weaker? Perhaps it was better when they weren't friends.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him pointedly. “Mr Potter, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“I have a free period. Besides, I didn’t see a ‘no visitors allowed’ sign on the door so you can’t kick me out.”

James knew she was about to scold him, but before she could open her mouth, Dumbledore spoke.

“It’s alright, Poppy. Let him stay. I was just leaving anyway.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded, and with a tight smile to the Headmaster, she excused herself and left for her office.

“James, a word?”

His legs felt heavy, but he forced himself to move, and walked towards Dumbledore.

“Of course, professor.”

“How have you been? I imagine this hasn’t been very easy for you.”

There it was again, pity.

“Respectfully, sir, how I have been is hardly a concern right now. And I’d feel much better if you found the people responsible for this.”

“I am doing all I can. I know you’re afraid this will happen again, and I want nothing more than for Hogwarts to be a safe space for all of you.”

He wanted to laugh. It all felt so surreal, and Dumbledore's words had never felt emptier.