Waiting Too

Disclaimer: Of course I'm JK. I'm just taking a break from writing the 7th book to write fanfiction….and if you believe that, you'll believe anything…..

A/N My James and Lily fic Waiting seemed to go down quite well, the one where James is speaking to Lily in his head as he waits for her to arrive at the church on their wedding day. Having thought about it, I've decided to do Lily's point of view of the story, hence the title of this. She won't reply to some of the remarks James makes in his version, but she will give her view of the events James talked about. She is in her room at home preparing for her big day, thinking of how she had got to this point with a certain messy haired, hazel eyed Marauder. As with Waiting, you have to remember, her words to James are in her head. As ever, read and review, but most of all, enjoy!

Our wedding day. Can you really believe that? How is it possible? I think I'll do well in the future to remember how persistent you are Potter. You followed me around for years, asking me out and just being an all round nuisance (well, you were!) and I resisted every attempt you made to get anywhere near me, knocking you back, and making sure I had a clever comeback for every one of your over the top declarations or, on days when you had a smaller audience, your appeals to my better nature. I never took you particularly seriously, I just thought you were messing about, or worse, trying to get me to become yet another member of the Marauder fan club….did you know the Marauders had a fan club? Well, you do now! Just don't let it go to your head; we have a wedding to attend.

I'm here in my room at home just making the last few finishing touches to my appearance. My Dad will be here in a bit, knocking on my bedroom door, ready to escort me to church, where he'll walk me down the aisle (actually Petunia reckons he'll walk me up….I have a horrible feeling she might be right, which, as you would say, makes a change!) to give me away to you. Is that a scary thought? I keep thinking I should be nervous. I should be worrying about the day, fretting over the service, the preparations, and all the rest of it. I should be scared to death at the thought of spending the rest of my life with a man I spent years refusing. The strange thing is I'm not. I'm sitting here in my wedding dress (which you will love, by the way) and I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I keep waiting for my hands to start shaking and the butterflies to take flight in my stomach, but I'm as steady as a rock. I just feel excited and happier than I ever remember being before. I just can't wait to get to that church, get married and start the rest of my life with you….oh, sure, with Sirius too. Honestly, if you'd told me when you proposed that you and he came as a pair, I might have had second thoughts….oh, stop worrying, I'm joking, I'm joking!

It was obvious even at school that you and Sirius were more like brothers than friends…actually I think it's quite sweet. Oh stop gagging! There's absolutely nothing wrong with a man being sweet…it's no reflection on your masculinity. In fact, it's really rather sexy…stop drooling! However, I hope you've remembered to tell Sirius that if he loses the ring or says something remotely crude during his best man's speech, I will personally take my wand to his…..you get the picture, don't you dear?

Even though I'm making the last of my preparations before I leave, I still can't help but think of everything that brought us to this point. I've thought about it so often, but it still seems incredible to me…oh sure, incredible in a nice way, but still….

I suppose it all began in the sixth year. Up to then you'd spent years following me around and asking me out and I'd spent equally as long refusing you, and yes, I know, my refusals were usually peppered with whatever name I was calling you at the time, but you did deserve it…now, now, don't argue, you did! As far as I was concerned, you were an arrogant bully. I'd seen you in action enough to know what you were like. The fact that your favourite victim was Severus Snape, a Slytherin, was no justification for how you used to behave. Then there was me. Oh, I agree, you never bullied me. I just thought you regarded me as someone to tease, or as the only one you couldn't have. I was sure that was the appeal, that your endless declarations of your feelings were nothing more than a joke. I was convinced that if I was ever mad enough to agree to out with you, you'd laugh in my face and gloat over your victory before telling me that you'd never really meant it. So, I was determined. I was never going to give in.

Then came the sixth year. I'm still not 100 sure how our truce happened. We just sort of suddenly seemed to get on better. I suppose that brief time in the fifth year when you fell out with Sirius might have been a part of it. Even when you were speaking to him again (I couldn't bring myself to tell you I knew what you'd fallen out over) you seemed different. It wasn't enough for me to alter my view of you, but you were definitely different, somehow it seemed to have shocked you. So, in the sixth year we suddenly found ourselves able to talk to one another a bit. We even laughed and joked at times. I still didn't think of you as a friend, but the fact that you no longer followed me around made getting to know you much easier. We could have whole conversations without you asking me out and me yelling at you. I was beginning to enjoy your company and, dare I say, I was beginning to trust you. It was a shame it didn't last.

Towards the end of the year Fabian Prewett asked me if I'd help him with some work for Potions. I'd always enjoyed the subject (unlike you, I might add!) and I knew I was good at it, so I agreed. It didn't take long for me to realise that Fabian Prewett was worse at Potions than you…and that is saying something. Oh come on, don't be like that, you were bad at Potions, you know you were! Still, in your case a lot of it was because you despised Professor Slughorn. Don't even start on your opinions of him either! Weddings can be called off you know!

Very soon I found myself spending a lot of time with Fabian Prewett and over the weeks I was helping him we became good friends. There was never anything between us except friendship. I suppose I knew you wouldn't like me spending time with someone other than you, but then I didn't regard you as a friend either, though I did think that if our truce continued, we soon would be. Some would say I should have seen the trouble coming, but I didn't.

I was in the Common Room that day with Fabian. We were spending a free period studying together. We were just enjoying a joke when the portrait hole opened and you came in. You looked like you'd been outside, but worse, you looked angry about something. I think Fabian sensed your mood because he got up to leave. As he went he said his customary 'see ya petal' (what is it with my name and the male population of Hogwarts?) and he pushed a strand of my hair (which had grown just a bit too long) behind my ear. I still can't quite work out what happened, but the next thing I knew Fabian was on the floor, cowering, and you were standing over him with your wand pointed straight at his face.

For a split second I watched in disbelief. I'd seen you pull some pranks before but I'd never seen you look at someone before with real hate in your eyes…..unless it was Snape of course, which seems different to that day.

Suddenly it was as if the reality of the situation hit me. I began to realise that I might be about to see you kill someone right there in front me if I didn't do something. Looking back, I remember trying to tell myself that it was Fabian I was scared for, and in a way that's true. You were a great wizard even then (all right, don't get all bigheaded on me Potter!) and you could have easily killed him with just a word or the merest flick of your wand. But I know now, watching you standing over him, fury all over your face, I was suddenly scared for you. Even if I refused you when you asked me out, even though up to that year I'd regarded you as a bullying arrogant toe-rag, even though I still didn't regard you as a friend, I was suddenly terrified that if you did what I was sure you were about to do, you'd be throwing your whole life away. You'd end up being expelled from school and you'd be sent to Azkaban. I knew I couldn't just sit back and let that happen. I knew inside that somehow you'd reacted like that because of me, so I had to stop you before you did something that you'd regret for the rest of your life. I knew that as arrogant as you were, as much of a prankster you had been in the past, you were no murderer. I began to cry. I cried and pleaded with you to put your wand down and let Fabian go. I repeated myself a couple of times, keeping my eyes fixed on you, knowing even then that even if you wanted to hurt Fabian, you wouldn't deliberately hurt me. It's strange how even then, I was sure you would never hurt me, at least not physically. A minute later, something must have clicked inside you. You looked at me, you looked at Fabian, who was still on the floor, and then you looked at your wand. Then, as quickly as this had all happened, it was over. You dropped your wand. It didn't take Fabian a second to realise that he was safe. Before your wand hit the Common Room carpet Fabian was out through the portrait hole. You and I were alone.

Once Fabian was out of the Common Room we fell into silence. We both stood there, staring at one another as if neither of us could really understand what had happened. I began to realise that you had nearly killed someone because of me, or rather, because you were jealous of anyone else, any other man, spending any time with me. For a tiny fraction of a second I felt as if what had happened was somehow my fault. The thought struck me that perhaps I'd never taken you seriously enough when you went on and on about how you felt about me. I began to feel guilty.

Almost as soon as the guilt began to wash over me, it was wiped away by another emotion. As I stood there, wracked with guilt for something you had done, I was hit by a wave of anger. Suddenly I realised that it wasn't me who stood over another student, looking for all the world like I wanted them dead, it was you and worse, now you were staring at me as if you didn't even understand what you'd done and you were making me feel as if it was my fault. I remembered all those weeks when you and I had begun to get to know one another better and the trust I thought was growing between us. My anger turned to fury. You'd let me down just at the time when I was beginning to get close to you. You'd ruined our friendship before it had even had a chance to begin. I felt like the most stupid person in the world. You had almost managed to take me in, you'd almost convinced me you were better than I'd always thought, then, in one mad moment you ruined it and made me feel a fool. I sensed the rage I felt towards you running through my whole body.

I looked at you watching me, still with that expression of disbelief in your eyes, a look that now held confusion and maybe a little fear. I opened my mouth to rant and rave at you. I was stopped by you opening your mouth, your disbelieving expression suddenly wiped out by an angry expression that equalled mine. Before I could react to demand to know why you were so angry, after all, it had all been your fault, you began to scream and yell at me. The stupid thing was I immediately clammed up, completely unable to take in what I was hearing. You were yelling at me that I had no right to be with Prewett, I was yours, no one else's. You said you'd been asking me out for years just for me to give in easily for Prewett. You screamed at me, lecturing me at the top of your voice about how 'decent' witches behave. Then, when I didn't think you could possibly insult me any more, you called me something I've never been called by anyone before. You glared at me as if you loathed the very sight of me and you called me a whore.

I know you still feel bad about that day. I know you hate what you called me and all the other things you said. I've told you, once I'd got over my anger and calmed down a bit I realised that as soon as you'd said the word you looked as if you wanted to take it back. In the early weeks of the seventh year I could see for myself how sorry you were, but then, in the sixth year, in that Common Room, your rant ignited my fury again. Suddenly I was yelling back at you, calling you every name I'd ever called you and maybe even a few more just for good measure. I said you were selfish, completely unconcerned about anyone else's happiness. I said you didn't care about anyone else as long as you were happy. Then I rounded this off by saying I was disgusted with you and that as far as I was concerned, you no longer existed. By the time I finished speaking I was shaking with temper. I just couldn't stand to be in that room with you a second longer. I didn't look back at you as I turned around and got out of that room as fast as my legs would carry me.

I stormed out of Common Room and ran out into the school grounds. I walked and walked, all the while your words running around in my head and the sight of you standing over Fabian Prewett burning my brain. I thought once more of those times when I'd begun to trust you and how you'd ruined it and let me down, managing to hurt me with your words in the process. Soon I was exhausted and I flopped down under the beech tree you usually sat under with the other Marauders. The irony of where I was hit me immediately. I put my head in my hands and burst into angry tears, vowing as I cried that I wouldn't speak to you again until you apologised for what you'd done. I have to admit, I thought I'd have to wait a long time. I'd never heard James Potter apologise for anything. Even so, I was adamant. I neither spoke nor looked at you for the remainder of the year.

I've never admitted to you that I spent the summer before our seventh year at Hogwarts thinking almost entirely of you. In previous years I'd put away thoughts of you during the long summer break. I'd always told myself that you drove me mad enough at school without spending my holidays thinking about you too. But then, that year, a year that led up to our NEWTS exams, I just couldn't stop thinking about you, or rather, our last argument. I couldn't wipe out the memory of what I'd seen and heard that day. In my mind I could see you standing over Fabian Prewett, your eyes full of the deepest loathing. Then I could hear your voice, every insult you'd thrown at me, the name you called me, replaying over and over in my head.

For most of the summer I held on to the anger I felt towards you. I kept telling myself that I'd been right about you all along, you were nothing more than an arrogant bully; you were selfish and only concerned with your own happiness. But then, as the weeks went by, I realised that in that tiny silence between your outburst and mine, you'd looked at me like you knew you'd done wrong. You looked like you really could have ripped your tongue out for saying what you said. Truth be told, you looked more shaken than me.

I began to remember what you said to me, not just the insult, but the meaning of what you said. I could hear you saying that I was yours, not Prewett's, you'd been asking me out for years only for me to give in easily to Prewett. I began to see that you'd clearly got it in to your head that something was going on between Fabian and me and you'd reacted out of jealousy. Looking back, I should have been angry with you for that. I should have thought you had no right to be jealous, that I didn't belong to you or anyone else. However, as I turned the thoughts over and over in my mind, the intensity of your words and the feelings in your eyes as you said them just wouldn't go away. I was still angry with you for what you'd done to Fabian, he didn't deserve it, but all of a sudden I began to think that your outburst at me, whilst it was hurtful and unfair, might have been prompted by your feelings for me. At first that confused me. I'd always thought you were messing around with me, that you were just playing the fool, or that you were teasing me, just waiting for me to give in so you could drop me and humiliate me just for the fun of it.

Again I began to think that maybe I'd underestimated your feelings, maybe it was just possible that all those times you asked me out, all those years you'd pestered me, you actually meant what you kept saying, that you cared for me, that you wanted me. As soon as that thought occurred to me I was terrified. I'd seen actual proof of the extent of your feelings. I'd seen you completely lose control and almost at the point of being prepared to kill another student because of those feelings. How on earth was I ever going to face you knowing you felt like that? As if by magic (honestly, no pun intended) I had a plan. I'd promised myself that I wasn't going to speak to you until you apologised for what you'd done to Fabian Prewett. All I had to do was stick to that and I'd be all right. I refused to answer a tiny voice in my head that kept asking why I suddenly felt sad that the gaping hole in our relationship wouldn't be easily repaired when we were back at school. I ignored another voice that said that as much as I was angry with you over what you did to Fabian, I was more hurt by what you'd said to me and keen to put things right between us. I'd made up my mind. I would continue to behave as if you didn't exist. All of a sudden the thought of going back to school held very little appeal.

The seventh year began and in spite of my decision that I wouldn't speak to you, I was confronted by the sight of you much sooner than I expected. Not only that, but Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, (yes James, that is sarcasm!) decided that it would be fun to push us into spending rather more time together that year than I had planned. Frankly I could have cheerfully strangled the old…..Headmaster (well, what did you think I was going to call him?) when I found out what he'd done.

I climbed on to the Hogwarts Express and, in spite of dreading the new school year because of our situation, I found myself feeling proud. I had found out via a note from Dumbledore a few weeks earlier that I was Head Girl that year. I could hardly believe it. I was a Muggleborn, someone used to being called Mudblood (oh James, it's just a word now, it can't hurt me any more, so stop overreacting!) and feeling as if I really shouldn't be part of the magical world. I was also used to my dear sister (sarcasm again James!) throwing insults at me and calling me a freak, so I felt as if I wasn't part of the Muggle world either. Then I received that note and I felt as if I belonged. I had a role at last.

Having briefly spent some time in one of the carriages with my friends I decided it was time for me to make my way to the Prefects Carriage. I knew that part of my role was to see the prefects with the Head Boy and discuss their duties with them. I was so wrapped up in thinking about that that I didn't realise I'd almost walked straight in to someone until it was almost too late. I stepped back quickly and went to apologise. Then I shut my mouth as I saw just exactly who it was I'd bumped in to. I looked up (it was funny how you'd appeared to have grown over the summer, I couldn't remember you being quite that tall before) into your hazel eyes and I was dumbstruck. Our argument and you standing over Prewett was replaying itself in my head again. I mentally reminded myself I wasn't speaking to you.

I found myself swallowing hard as we stood there staring at each other for at least a minute. I became aware that I was actually finding not speaking to you much more difficult than I expected. Suddenly I wanted to speak to you, I wanted to tell you how you'd hurt me, and more than that, I found myself wanting more than anything to put things right between us. I swallowed hard again and was amazed that you did exactly the same. I watched you and was surprised to see how uncomfortable you looked. If I hadn't known better I would have sworn you were blushing. I looked into your eyes again (did you know you have three specks of gold in each iris?) and I was sure you looked sad. If I'd been speaking to you I would have asked why you looked so sorry for yourself, but I wasn't, so I kept my mouth shut. You looked down on me and then you ran a hand through your hair. I could see your agitation written all over your face. Then you opened your mouth a little. For a second I really thought you were going to say something. I allowed myself to think that you were about to apologise for what you'd done. As soon as I allowed myself the thought I saw you close your mouth again and I knew you weren't going to say anything. I pushed away the feeling of disappointment that washed over me and I turned away from you. I carried on making my way to the Prefects Carriage, forcing myself not to look back.

When I arrived at the Prefects Carriage I set about searching for the Head Boy. I quickly asked the Prefects if any of them knew who the Head Boy was but no one had any idea. Then the carriage door opened and before I could say anything a certain black haired Gryffindor came in, closing the door behind him. Then to my total disbelief you grinned all over your face and announced that you were Head Boy. I wondered for ages after if it is physically possible for someone to dislocate their jaw if it drops too suddenly. At the time though, I was more concerned by the way all the strength had disappeared from my legs. I really thought I was delusional. I really thought for one crazy moment that I was so wrapped up in our argument that my mind was playing tricks. The only thing that made it real was the way my heart was pounding in my chest. I looked into your eyes again and hoped you were telling lies. I certainly found it hard to believe, but then, as I studied your expression for any sign of this being a joke, I knew it wasn't. You were Head Boy. I made a mental note to remind myself to kill Dumbledore at the earliest opportunity.

I soon realised the biggest drawback of being Head Girl was the way I was expected to do patrol with the Head Boy…you. I dreaded them each time. I was still determined not to speak to you under any circumstances, so we spent each patrol in complete silence. The atmosphere between us had never been worse. At least when we were fighting we were actually talking to one another. Now there seemed to be this huge gulf between us. I don't think either of us knew what to do about it. In the end you did something that helped a bit. It wasn't enough for me to forgive you outright, but it was a start.

I was sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast one day when I noticed a movement in the corner of my eye. I turned a little in my seat and saw you, sitting with Sirius, Remus and Peter in the middle of the Gryffindor table. I was about to turn away when I noticed you standing up. For a second I thought you were coming down to my end of the table, but then you turned and walked to the other end. You stopped when you were stood behind a seat that was occupied by Fabian Prewett. I braced myself, but couldn't take my eyes off you. I wasn't sure what you were about to do but for some odd reason I wasn't worried, somehow I knew you wouldn't have another go at him. I watched as you leaned forward and said something that made Fabian look at you as if you'd gone mad and then I saw him smile as he rose. I found myself breaking into a weak smile as Fabian stretched out a hand to the one that was reaching out for his. I watched as you both shook hands firmly, all the while the smile lingering in the corners of my mouth. Just as I was about to turn away and finish my breakfast Sirius looked down the table and straight at me. I tried to wipe the smile from my face but I knew he'd seen it. His eyes shone but to my relief he didn't say anything. He nodded at me politely before he turned his attention back to you as you walked back towards your place at the table.

After that morning in the Great Hall I found it harder to ignore you altogether. You'd shown me that you were mature enough to apologise for doing something wrong, though I was still waiting for you to say something to me. In spite of myself, in spite of me knowing that you'd had a go at me because you were jealous, I really needed to hear you say you were sorry for what you'd said to me. I wanted us to go back to the way we were in the early part of the sixth year. I realised I wanted to see if we really could become friends. But even knowing all that, I still couldn't make myself speak to you. Instead I settled for nodding at you when we met up for patrol and nodding again when we parted. It didn't break the ice so much as start a tiny thaw. Then something happened and the tiny thaw made way for something else, first a series of bright spring days and then a glorious summer.

I suppose I should explain that what happened was completely stupid. I'd decided that I needed some new shoes. I was used to wearing flat shoes but the ones I had in mind had a small heel, nothing elaborate, just something that made me look a tiny bit taller. It isn't even as if I'm short…well, all right, I'm not that short. So I asked my Mum to get a pair of the shoes I wanted and send them to me. She did and when they arrived I couldn't wait to try them on. I put them on and went to meet up with a second year I'd volunteered to help with some charms tuition. We were about to go down a flight of stairs when it happened. Someone coming up the stairs just nudged me by accident as they went by. Normally I'd have been fine, but I wasn't quite used to balancing on the extra height the heels gave me. I remember fighting for a second to stay on my feet, but then my legs just seemed to disappear from beneath me. I felt myself falling. I screamed out as I just rolled and rolled down the stairs, speeding up as I went. I tried really hard to stop, but it was hopeless. I hit the ground at the bottom of another flight of stairs and everything went black….

I don't remember much about the next few days. All I remember is a weird sense of feeling disconnected from everything around me. I remember hearing flashes of conversations from voices I knew but couldn't completely place. It was like dreaming except that none of the dreams played out completely. They would appear for a brief moment and then float off somewhere before coming back.

I vaguely remember being put somewhere that felt warm and comfortable and hearing a female voice speaking to me in a gentle tone. Even in my strange state I thought this voice was unusually soft. I was sure I'd heard it sound much harsher before, but I didn't care. I also vaguely recall something tight around my head and a stinging sensation, but I just felt too sleepy to open my eyes and find out what was going on.

I was caught up in this strange detached feeling when I heard a male voice that was incredibly familiar. The female voice was arguing with the male voice but the male voice was obviously determined. Even in my odd condition I knew the male voice was being quite rude but at the same time it was making me feel safe and warm. I was aware that I wouldn't mind too much if that voice stayed around for a while. I felt quite relieved when it did.

I couldn't quite understand why the male voice had sounded so frightened when it was speaking to the female voice. I was sure I'd heard that voice at other times when it sounded much happier. I was certain I'd heard it telling jokes and making others laugh. I was sure I'd heard it calling people names too. Somewhere in the back of my mind the word 'snivellus' meant something, but I couldn't quite think what. I was certain I'd heard this voice talking to me too, calling me Lilyflower and asking me out. Either way, I decided that seeing as I wasn't so sure about what else was going on, holding on to the warm male voice that made me feel safe and secure seemed like a very good idea.

I didn't know until much later that I was unconscious for five whole days after my fall. It was later still that I discovered that at one point I was in real danger. It turned out that the fall had done quite a bit of damage in my head. At the time I wasn't aware enough to know. The only thing I was aware of was that I couldn't open my eyes, I felt far too tired. I also knew I still felt out of things. Everything still felt dreamlike. The only thing that felt remotely normal was the male voice that seemed to become almost a constant presence. There were odd times of course when the voice disappeared. I always knew somehow when the owner of the voice was back again. I felt just a bit better than when it was gone. Actually I remember a time when that female voice I'd heard before told the male voice that he needed to go and eat something. The male voice tried to argue but then someone else, someone with another familiar male voice spoke and eventually my companion went away, muttering all sorts as it went. It was nice when he came back.

The days must have gone by without my realising. Still the familiar voice was there. I was almost certain I knew who it belonged to but then something happened and I knew for sure.

I remember I was still going in and out of my dreamy state; all sorts of odd things were going around in my mind. I remember sensing vaguely that someone was sitting very close to me. I liked the thought that it was my companion with the familiar voice that made me feel better. To my surprise I sensed a movement and felt my hand being clasped by someone whose skin felt a little rough, but not in an unpleasant way. That confirmed it for me. The hand holder was definitely the familiar voice owner. It was definitely a male hand that was holding mine in a grip that wasn't uncomfortable, just firm and comforting. I felt an odd sense of security. I knew, even in my less than half alert state, I would have been quite happy to stay like that forever if the hand holder didn't let go of me.

The voice then started to talk again. He talked of when we first met. He talked of us fighting. He talked of times when I'd refused his invitations to go out and how it made him feel even if, as he admitted, he knew why. I actually clearly remember thinking that was funny. My companion knew why I'd refused him, but in that moment I swear, I didn't. I remember thinking that I must have been mad to refuse someone who could talk so nicely to me and with such care in his voice. Then the voice talked about the sixth year. Something inside me reacted to the voice talking about how we had become closer until he ruined it.

Suddenly the fog that had descended over my mind since my accident seemed to begin to lift. I could actually almost physically feel myself coming back from wherever I'd been since my fall. I was still a very long way off, but I was getting there.

Now my companion apologised for what he'd done to another student and for a name he called me. He said that if I would just wake up he would beg for forgiveness on his knees.

I tried really hard to wake up James, really. Now I knew it was you who had been with me all the time since the accident and that you'd finally apologised for what you'd done, both to Fabian and me. I wanted so much to open my eyes and accept your apology, but I just couldn't do it. I was still too far away. Instead, I carried on trying, hoping you would just stay and help me back.

I was surprised when your voice wobbled almost violently. You'd sounded upset and worried as the days had gone by, but now you sounded devastated and, to my astonishment, I could hear the tears in your voice, your words sounding thick, as if each one caused you pain. I knew you were crying, breaking your heart. You dropped my hand suddenly and I thought you were about to leave me alone, but then you seemed to be struggling to control yourself for a second before you seemed to give up. You began to talk again, your words still filled with your tears. You began to beg me to live. You said I just had to live because you needed me. You said you weren't going to let me go and leave you alone. You astonished me further when you said that I had to live because you love me. You said you'd loved me for years and you knew whatever happened, you would never stop.

If you'd said all that while I was awake properly I would have been staggered. I didn't know at the time what the bigger shock was, your tears or that you said you love me, not only loved me now, but had for years and would never stop. Oh, I knew since the incident with Fabian, you did have strong feelings for me, you'd always said you cared for me, that you wanted me, but you'd never said the word love before. I don't know if you had that it would have made a difference in the past, all I know is that it made a difference that day, and for all the days that followed, or will follow, forever.

It was as if your words broke through something inside me because all of a sudden I felt an incredible urge to open my eyes. All the time you were still speaking, saying over and over, I love you. I held on to the sound of your voice and dragged my eyes open. I tried to call your name but my voice sounded weak, hardly as if it belonged to me. It must have been enough because you stopped talking abruptly. You turned to face me just as I tried to say your name again. It came out as a whisper. 'James'……

You stood staring at me for a second after I said your name. I looked back at you and could hardly believe my eyes. You looked exhausted, as if for days you'd had very little sleep. Your hair was sticking up in all directions as if you'd run your hand through it over and over again. But, as I looked at you, your eyes shone at me with an expression of joy. For a moment you opened your mouth as if you were going to say something, but then you surprised me by running off, calling for Madam Pomfrey as you went.

Madam Pomfrey bustled in to the room, you following behind, that look of joy still in your eyes. Then, to my disappointment, she threw you out of the Hospital Wing before she turned her attention to me. She fussed over me, checking this and that and asking if I felt all right. Once she was assured I was fine, she stood at my bedside for a while talking to me. She smiled kindly and said everyone would be pleased I was better, I'd given you all quite a scare. She mentioned your name and said you had hardly left my side for five days. She said she'd practically had to force you away at one point to go and eat something and even then, your best friend, Sirius Black, had ended up almost dragging you away. When Madam Pomfrey finished speaking, she left me alone with my thoughts.

I didn't think it was such a good idea to tell Madam Pomfrey that I knew you'd been with me most of the time I was unconscious. Instead, I occupied myself with thinking about you. I kept waiting for you to come back and see me, but you didn't. I thought perhaps you would come back and talk to me about what you'd said to me, but when that didn't happen I began to think that maybe you felt uncomfortable and embarrassed about showing your emotions so openly. Strange as it may seem, it never even occurred to me that you might want to take back what you'd said. Though it had taken me by surprise when you said you loved me, I didn't doubt for a minute that you meant it. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen when I saw you again.

A few days went by before Madam Pomfrey decided I was well enough to leave the Hospital Wing. It was quite a relief. As I felt better, I'd started to feel enclosed there. I wanted to get back to school properly, to catch up on the work I'd missed, and, I have to admit, I wanted to see you. You still hadn't come to see me again and I found myself missing you. I thought it was because you'd spent so much time with me lately, even if I had been unconscious. Now I wonder if, even then, I felt more for you than I realised.

I was catching up on some of my work in the Common Room one lunch time when you came in. I wondered for a second if you would bolt at the sight of me, but you didn't. You just smiled nervously. You walked over to the fireplace and stood in front of it. I finished what I was doing and put my work away, and then I walked over to you, standing close to you. Once again I was struck by how tall you were, at least three inches taller than me, probably more. I looked up into your face. I was suddenly taken by an urge to touch you. I told myself it was because I was grateful for what you'd done for me, but even so, the feeling was there. You looked down at me and though I could see you looked a bit nervous, you looked pleased to see me looking well again. We talked. Surprisingly, after all that time of not speaking to one another, it was easy, though a little bit polite at first. You told me about the things that had been going on while I was out of things. We talked about classes and the day to day school routine. You said that a couple of the older prefects had done our patrols while I was in the Hospital Wing. You didn't say a word about what you'd said to me before I woke up. I couldn't bring myself to push the issue either. I told you that Madam Pomfrey told me you'd been with me for most of the time I was unconscious. I thanked you before I smiled at you, hoping it looked as genuine as it felt. Then I did something I couldn't even begin to understand. I stood on tip-toes (I'd decided I was safer in flat shoes) and I kissed you lightly on the cheek.

I'm not sure who was more surprised, you or me. I couldn't even begin to explain why I did it. All I know is that you were there and I felt close to you again. As I stood back on my feet, you sighed softly and said that what you'd done for me was nothing. You'd have done the same for anyone, especially someone you wanted to be friends with. Friends? You'd spilled your deepest feelings for me when I was away with the fairies, but now, in the Common Room, you wanted to be friends? Honestly, men! I didn't know whether to kick you or kiss you again. I couldn't work out which I wanted to do more, or why I wanted to do either, but really James, friends?

So, we became friends. I was almost became an unofficial Marauder, minus the fact that I didn't swear (unless severely provoked) and I didn't pull pranks, but then again, neither did any of you by then, so that hardly counts.

As a Marauder of sorts, I was given access to certain inner most secrets. First you told me that Remus (Moony as you called him) was a werewolf. I wish you could have seen your face when I told you I already knew; it was priceless! I'd realised ages before. We were all in the same house. Most of us shared most of the same classes. It wasn't difficult to work out that there was a pattern to Remus's absences. The excuses about his mother didn't sound right to me, and, seeing as it was highly unlikely that he suffered from the usual sort of monthly trouble, (the sort that women get James) I knew there was more to it. I did some research in the library (what do you mean, typical?) and realised the truth. It didn't worry me. Remus was and is, my friend. You followed up on that little revelation by telling me that you, Sirius and Peter were all illegal Animagus and you had been since the fifth year, though you'd been learning how to do it since the second year. You said that you did it so that you could be with Remus when he transformed. You looked almost scared when you were telling me that. I know you must have thought I would judge you after all, you had broken the law. You were visibly shocked when I made it obvious that I knew you'd done it for your friend, to help him. I found it amazing that the bond between the four of you was so strong that you would do that. I became fascinated by the whole process, how you'd learned and what was involved. I never fancied a go myself, I was just interested…truly. Then again, does are nice, aren't they?

Soon our Newts were nearly upon us. I have to confess, I probably bullied you, Sirius and Peter in to all that revision. Remus enjoyed learning, like me, so he was safe, but the rest of you…well! Only Sirius seemed to disapprove of my attempts to make him work. When he complained I told him that he'd think it was worth it when he passed. I still don't think he believed me. It was just important to me that my friends did well. It wouldn't have made any difference to our friendship, but I could see the potential in all of you. I couldn't stand seeing that go to waste. For some reason you not doing what you were capable of bothered me the most.

While we were studying, spending so much time together, I realised I had a problem. I was starting to become fascinated by you. We had all become close, but with us I knew it was different. You had never said a word about what you'd said to me in the Hospital Wing, so, in time, I let it go. I thought that maybe your feelings had changed or that you just felt uncomfortable to raise the issue again, maybe thinking I'd be offended. I couldn't say anything either, so I just stood back and settled for watching you sometimes, even when you didn't know. I know Sirius caught me a couple of times, but he just smiled at me in a knowing sort of way and then went back to whatever he was doing. I know now, Sirius knew how I felt even before I admitted it to myself. He knew that my feelings for you had gone way beyond friendship. He knew I was in love with you. He didn't make any move towards helping me find out for sure how you felt about me. He let me do it all by myself….and so did you….

It was just before our final feast on our very last day at Hogwarts. I was sad to be leaving the place that had come to feel like home over the years. I knew I was sad to think of not seeing you again too, unless something changed between us. You still hadn't said anything to me about your feelings. In the end I had to find out how you felt, even if you didn't want me any more.

That evening I spent time with my friends for a while, just talking over old times while we packed our things for the last time. Once that was done I went to the Common Room, expecting you to be there. You weren't. I went over to the other Marauders and asked Sirius where you were. He said he didn't know, you'd made some excuse and taken yourself off somewhere. He said to try the grounds, maybe under the beech tree. Funnily enough, that was exactly where I intended to look. I knew you would be there.

I went outside and walked. Sure enough, I soon came across a familiar black haired young man, who was completely lost in what appeared to be very serious thought as he leaned back against the trunk of the beech tree. I studied you for a while, your hair untidy as ever, so black it almost looked blue in the half-moonlight. I felt an urge to run my fingers through it, but I held back. You didn't appear to have heard me as I got closer to you.

Quietly, so as not to disturb you, I sat down beside you and carried on studying your features in profile. You suddenly looked much older than your nearly 18 years. When did you suddenly change from being a boy to a man? Your jaw was firm and set in a straight line. I wanted to reach out and stroke the hint of stubble that lingered there, but I couldn't move. I was transfixed. I felt my heart rate double and my breathing becoming a little laboured. I knew now, clear as day and large as life, I was besotted. I adored you. I was madly in love with you. I was caught a little by surprise when you suddenly turned towards me. For a moment you looked as if you were expecting to see someone else, but then you saw me. You looked at me with such an unguarded expression in your eyes, a look that told me, I was almost certain, you felt the same things as me. You looked into my eyes and said 'Lily?' in a quizzical sort of way. I replied by doing something that I knew I'd been waiting so long to do. I leaned towards you and I kissed you.

This kiss was not a gentle kiss on the cheek like before, but a full on kiss on the lips. I kissed you like I've never kissed anyone in my life before. I felt your arms moving around me almost immediately, gripping me, holding me, as if on pure instinct. I loved it and moved even closer to you, while you pulled me closer too. I kissed you over and over, never quite able to get enough of you, each kiss going deeper and deeper. My hands went into your hair and yours were in mine and I knew I was so close I was practically on top of you. I didn't care. All I cared about was you and how much I loved you, how much I wanted you to go on kissing me, holding me and most of all, loving me. I didn't care that we were under a tree in the grounds at school. In that moment I would have done anything for you. Thank God you were thinking more clearly. You pulled away.

When you pulled away we were both short of breath. Frankly, we both looked like we'd been kissing, which is probably just as well because we had! We both sat and stared at one another for ages. I could see you trying to take in what had just happened (I was tempted to demonstrate again, but never mind). You looked like you were trying to say something to me, or at least as if you wanted to say something. In the end I gave up waiting, knowing that if we were going to be doing any more kissing in the future (which I wanted very much thank you) I was going to have to make it happen. I moved a little and for a second you seemed to freeze. I knew you thought I was about to make a run for it. You didn't have a clue that that was as likely as Voldemort becoming a sheep farmer, or starting a home for destitute Muggleborns. You relaxed when I turned to you and took your hand in mine. You looked into my eyes, your eyes burning with love and other things that made me want to kiss you again. I didn't kiss you, but I did talk. I said I'd heard you that day in the Hospital Wing. I'd heard every word you'd said to me. I said I knew you were sorry about what happened with Fabian Prewett and that it didn't matter any more. For a moment you looked like you were about to argue, but then you seemed to change your mind. Good boy. You looked surprised when I said that I realised that you were genuine in your feelings for me. Then I said the words that I just couldn't keep to myself any longer. 'Just for the record James Potter, I love you too'.

I said that it hadn't happened straight away. It had crept up on me slowly; it seemed that the more time I spent with you when I got out of the Hospital Wing the stronger it became. I'd realised that you were kind and caring and loyal and you'd grown up. I said I didn't like the idea of not seeing you after Hogwarts. I said I needed to be with you, so would you have me?

For a second you looked as if I was mad. You looked at me as if I'd said the most stupid, obvious thing in the whole world. I didn't get much chance to think about it though. A gorgeous Marauder with a lop-sided grin and untidy hair was kissing me again….

From then on we appeared to be practically joined at the hip. We just didn't seem able to be apart for more than a few minutes at a time. We celebrated our success in our Newts together. Then you began your training to be an Auror and I started mine as a Healer. I do worry about your career choice, I can't help it. You tell me you'll be fine, that you'll look after yourself, but that doesn't stop me. At first I even thought you had chosen the job as some sort of way of proving your masculinity (as if I could doubt that) but then I realised the truth. You hate the things that are going on in the magical world as much as me. You see it as your responsibility to help stop it. Just promise me I won't end up treating you at St. Mungo's, or worse. I need you with me James. I can't be without you, not now.

Sirius said almost from the beginning that it would only be a matter of time before we were married. True enough, six months after we left Hogwarts you proposed. Actually you went down on your knees and begged! Well, what's a girl to do? I accepted. I really thought you were going to faint you know….

Dad has just knocked on my bedroom door. There's just enough time for me to tell you that no matter what has happened in the past, I know now that I love you with all my heart. In a way, perhaps we had to go through everything we have just so that we know we love each other as much as we do. Either way, I know I adore you. I always will.

I'm standing now, making those tiny last adjustments to my appearance before we leave for the church. In spite of my excitement, I take my time. I know you can wait.

THE END

A/N I know, it's ridiculously long for a one-shot. Still…don't you just hate it when stories write themselves? Pity reviews don't, huh? Then again, you could write them! Wouldn't that be nice?