Her fingers traced the angry red blotches crawling up the right side of her face.

Breaking out right before a date was just her luck.

Then again, it wasn't a date, was it?

Potter had invited her to Hogsmeade and she'd owled him that she'd go, also taking the opportunity to thank him for the potions kit. Even with input from Dorcas and Alice, she'd spent a long time composing her message. She wanted to seem grateful but not pathetic, excited but not desperate, and she'd always found that balance difficult to achieve, erring on the side of indifference. Finally, she settled on:

James,

Thank you so much for the present. I really appreciate the thought behind it. We can meet at the entrance to Hogsmeade this Saturday.

Thanks again (I'm serious),

Lily

Dorcas had disagreed with the use of his first name, but as the potions kit was such a nice gift, Lily had decided to make an exception. At least she hadn't included any exclamation points.

The response had come immediately:

YES! See you there.

Potter had signed the note with a drawing of a smiling owl instead of his name, which Alice thought was cute. Secretly, Lily agreed.

For the rest of the week, though, she'd studiously avoided him, claiming a heavy workload and a more rigorous revising schedule now that spring and N.E.W.T.s had drawn nearer. It wasn't totally a lie: Lily, while certainly not failing, had been distracted enough recently that she could no longer boast perfect marks. Still, for the first time in her life, the academic work she'd done at Hogwarts seemed less important to her than the friends she'd made there. Maybe she'd caught Alice's nostalgia or maybe she'd just begun to see school for what it was: a means to an end, a rehearsal before the main event that would be her real, adult life.

She felt reasonably sure that her friendships with Dorcas and Alice would carry over into her adulthood, but would her friendship with Potter? And, if so, would the same hold true for her relationship with him, if they were to rekindle it? What about her love for him?

So much of what she felt for him was tied to their shared past at Hogwarts that she wondered if maybe the only step in her twelve-step program should be a change of scenery.

Maybe all she had to do to get over Potter would be to go somewhere she was just Lily Evans, full stop, and not Lily Evans, currently the object of James Potter's enduring (according to gossip, anyway) affections and formerly one-half of the most infamous couple in Hogwarts history.

She considered this possibility as she mentally evaluated her appearance: not too pretty, but rather, just pretty enough, as she'd intended.

Because, she reminded herself again, this wasn't a date.

Outside, it was a winter day that hinted at spring: the air was cool, but not cold, and the light blanket of snow was marred with patches of dirt and grass where it had melted. Lily made it halfway to the lake before she was forced to button her jacket.

Potter waited for her at the gates of Hogsmeade, without his friends for once. He seemed nervous, or restless, at the very least. Lily noted how he uncharacteristically failed to catch his wand once or twice after flipping it into the air.

As Lily approached, his nervous energy enveloped her as though carried toward her on a gust of wind, causing goose pimples to sprout on her arms. She hugged her jacket tighter around herself.

Potter smiled, teeth and all, when he saw her, offering her a "Hullo, Lily." She returned the smile but not the greeting. Addressing him had become much too complicated since she'd implemented Step 5.

"I thought we could have lunch around noon," he said, shoving his wand into his pocket. "Is there anything special you wanted to do before then?"

You invited me; shouldn't you have a plan? Lily thought, but instead she said, "Not particularly, no. Just walk around, I suppose. It's the first time I've been to Hogsmeade since...in a while."

Since that night they'd kissed at The Flaming Phoenix, was what she'd meant. Since the night that seemed years ago now, though it had only been three months ago. The night that, in her memories, still pulsed red with her pathetic desperation and Potter's rejection.

Potter chuckled. "Well, I'm sure it hasn't changed."

Places don't change; people do, her mother always said.

"But sure, we can walk around, if you want," he continued. "It's a nice day."

"For you, maybe. You're always warm." She blew into her hands and rubbed them together.

Their eyes locked and she imagined him taking her hands in his and offering to share his warmth.

His gaze dropped to her hands. "You don't have mittens?" he asked with concern. "I'll buy you a pair in Hogsmeade."

Not quite flirtatious, but still considerate, which, dammit, appealed to her even more. "I have a pair, but I left them in the tower. It was chillier than I expected it to be, I guess. Don't worry about it though. I'm sure I'll warm up once we start moving. I don't need a new pair just for one day."

"Think of it as part of your birthday gift. I can spare a few sickles for a pair of mittens so that you're not freezing the whole day."

Although Lily knew that Potter had been born into a wealthy family, and therefore had always been generous with money because he'd never wanted for it, she still appreciated the gesture.

"All right, if you're sure you don't mind," she acquiesced. "Thank you."

"Thank you. For coming."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" she asked archly, which earned her a laugh.

"I think you know the answer to that one." He nodded toward Hogsmeade. "You ready?"

Her chest tingled with a mix of nervous agitation and anxious longing. But if she didn't stare at him too long or too directly and kept reiterating to herself that she wasn't on a date, she should be fine. "Yep."

Side by side, with Lily making sure to maintain the maximum respectable distance between them, she and Potter entered Hogsmeade, the buzzing of the crowd within mercifully drowning out her troublesome thoughts and emotions.

Two and a half hours later, after the obligatory trips to Zonko's, Honeydukes, and Scrivenshaft's, Lily's right hand shivered inside her mitten - not from the cold, but from being in close proximity to Potter's.

Whenever she glimpsed other couples walking hand in hand, separating only when someone passed between them and rejoining immediately afterward, her hand would unconsciously drift toward his. It was familiar; it was habit; it was a muscular and emotional reflex. It was anything except that she wanted to hold his hand, missed having his hand to hold as she wandered the streets of this timeless, well-loved village of her childhood.

At least the awkwardness had mostly vanished as they'd fallen into the easy patterns of conversation that had characterized their friendship.

What remained, though, was a tension, lurking beneath the surface of their interactions like a mermaid in the Great Lake ready to strike.

(Number one on the list of things that had surprised Lily most about the magical world: mermaids' warlike tendencies.)

The last time they'd been to Hogsmeade together they'd been a couple; the last time they'd been to Hogsmeade at all they'd kissed; and the last time they'd been together at all, not counting class, Potter had played with her hair and caressed her cheek and given her a week's supply of dirty fantasies.

And so, every time their hands drew near, she fought the urge to grab hold of his.

"Wanna eat here?" Potter asked, indicating a small, quaint brick building with a sign that read, "'Wanda's 'Wichery."

"Eh, they probably serve decent sandwiches, and we already know that they serve decent puns, so sure, why not?" Lily said. Without meaning to, or perhaps without admitting to herself that she meant to, she tilted her face upward and tried for a tempting smile, shrinking the distance between them as much as possible without closing it entirely.

She'd been doing it all day, to no effect, as far as she could tell, though she continued to have trouble reading Potter, even since they'd become friends. Which frustrated her, given that he used to (literally, to her humiliation) shout his feelings for her from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

At lunch, Lily decided, if he didn't bring up their almost-kiss or his more recent breakup with Analiese, she would.

"So, James," she began tentatively, after they'd been seated at a table by the window, upon her request.

She paused to gauge his reaction to the tone that she always used to signal that she wanted to have a serious conversation - for people who were no longer romantically involved, they'd had quite a lot of those since November, hadn't they? - but he seemed too busy pouring copious amounts of cream and sugar into his tea to notice.

Lily proceeded undaunted. "I've heard from some people that you and Analiese broke up last week. Is it true?"

"Yep," he said immediately, closing the lid of the sugar bowl. "Merlin, have you seen this china? I hope the sandwiches don't also have faces. Or, if they do, I hope they aren't so...adorable."

Lily rolled her eyes at what she interpreted as an attempt to change the subject, until she saw that the sugar and cream bowls bore the face of a chubby, elderly witch with frizzy blonde hair, a mole, and an overly delighted expression.

"Erm...yeah, me too," she admitted, turning the face toward the wall. Hopefully the face didn't belong to the witch "crafting" - as the menu termed it - their sandwiches.

"But anyway, I'm sorry about your breakup," she said, even though she wasn't, because that's what friends said to one another following a breakup. "May I ask what happened?"

"From what she said, seemed like she wasn't happy with the amount of attention I was giving her or the amount of affection I was showing her. Or wasn't, as she claimed." He smirked at her. "And, as you'll remember, she was annoyed about all of the time I was spending with you."

Lily blushed, the guilt she'd felt earlier in the week returning, even though her encounter with Potter the previous week had neither been mentioned nor cited as the reason for his breakup with Analiese.

"I really am sorry," she said, meaning it, though still not as much as she probably should've, as she would've if her feelings for him weren't only masquerading as platonic. She tried to mean it more.

"It's okay," he said. "I reckon she can do better. Not looks-wise, but -" She slapped his arm, but lightly, and he laughed. "And from what you said, I can do better too."

Lily shook her head. "That doesn't sound like something I'd say. Too nice."

"You're right. I was paraphrasing."

"You know what 'paraphrasing' means?"

"Only because you've defined it for me before."

"You're welcome," she said, biting her lip to conceal her smile. "Seriously, though, what are you going to do now?"

"Well, first, make sure this food is dead enough to eat."

Lily flinched as the waitress set their plates on the table and blew a kiss at Potter as she turned on her heel. Had she been plain, Lily wouldn't have cared, but she was busty and blonde, and, considering that Potter had recently dated a girl of that sort, Lily felt justified in aiming a glare at her back. She was slightly tempted to aim a hex at it instead, but she thought that might further interrupt the flow of her conversation with Potter.

"And after that?" Lily prompted, inspecting the inside of her sandwich, which was, thankfully, faceless. To her relief, the contents looked more normal and less threatening than she'd come to expect of meals in these pop-up restaurants in Hogsmeade.

"Apologize," he said with sudden seriousness.

"For what?"

She waited while he chewed his food, which he hadn't hesitated to dive into eating, despite his previously stated intention to approach it with caution. Boys.

"The other night. How I was with you. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He drummed his fingers on the table, but his eyes held Lily's.

This apology was making her far more uncomfortable than that night in the empty classroom.

"I...you didn't," was all she could manage. Her cheeks colored, her knee tingling from an accidental brush with his under the table. She looked anywhere but at his hands or mouth.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Still. It means a lot to me that you've let me be your friend. I wouldn't want to do anything to foul that up."

She ate a chip, considering. She could be angry that he still wasn't indicating that he wanted their relationship back. Hurt that he seemed to regret the other night. Flattered that he valued their friendship enough to regret jeopardizing it, to apologize for doing so.

A little relieved, maybe, that things were remaining the same between them for at least a while longer, that she could delay thinking about if and how he'd fit into the future she'd envisioned for herself post-Hogwarts.

They had five months left at school, a length of time that seemed an eternity for a First Year planning her summer activities with Sev and promising Alice and Dorcas that she'd write them and visit, but now seemed like no time at all for a Seventh Year planning to join the Order after graduation and promising herself to either the war effort or the boy sitting across from her, which, she hadn't decided, but definitely not both.

But however much time there was, looking at James (suddenly, calling him "Potter" felt too immature), Lily still felt she needed more of it.

She'd hadn't even asked him recently, she realized, what he intended to do after Hogwarts.

"James," she said, giving up on Step 5 entirely now,"it's okay. We're still friends."

It was, for now, the only promise she could make: a promise that they'd sort out the rest, an acknowledgement that there was still more between them to be sorted out.

He smiled, his expression briefly recalling the enamored looks he used to reserve for her - and new models of broomsticks, sometimes, but nothing and no one else, his friends insisted. For some reason, it made Lily want to cry. "I'm glad."

He reached for her hand across the table - too fast, she thought. She pulled it back and folded both hands into her lap.

Potter looked confused at first, but then, recollecting, perhaps, that friends didn't really hold hands, he sighed. "Sorry again."

Unfortunately - or fortunately, if you asked her hormones - Lily's earlier attempts at seduction had been more effective than she'd imagined.

On the walk back to Gryffindor Tower, when Lily leaned in to whisper a joke to him, James kissed her, and before she could stop herself, she kissed him back. The kiss was slow and tender, chaste compared to what Lily had fantasized about for the past week, yet still she gasped for breath when it ended.

It was a kiss that transported her to the beginning of their relationship, when they could be together in a broom cupboard, or an empty classroom, or at the top of the Astronomy Tower, and later, in the Heads' Common Room, and forget that a world existed apart from the one they could, would, had sworn between kisses to live in together.

And time? The seconds moved torturously slowly as her mind screamed for his hands to wander from her back, and their progress under and up her shirt consumed all thought and sensation.

Back in the present, James pushed Lily gently away. He let his head fall back against the wall, with a roughness that made Lily wince, and sighed. "I don't know how many times I'm going to have to say it today, but I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I know this isn't an excuse, but you kept getting so close all day and I -"

She touched a finger to his lips, silencing him. His eyes shot open. Shiny with questions.

With a searching, pleading desire to draw the answers out of her himself.

Before she could lose herself in answering, Lily checked their surroundings for students or teachers, relieved to find their hallway still deserted. They could move to an empty classroom, or, better yet, to the Heads' Common Room, of course, but Lily hoped that the possibility of discovery would inspire some restraint - in her, if not in James. "James. I want you to understand something. Regardless of...any of this, we're still just friends, like we discussed at lunch. We can agree on that, right?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, and before either of them could protest, she kissed him with an urgency that had built for months, missing it before she'd even stopped. He kissed her fingertips, her cheek, the curve of her jaw, and finally, her neck, his urgency quickly surpassing hers. She tugged at his hair, biting back a moan.

"James," she croaked, barely able to think, let alone form words and sentences, with his hot breath tickling her cheek. "James, let's...let's - "

He groaned. Rested his forehead against hers. Stroked her hair. "Whatever you want, I'll do it, anything you want me to, I swear, but please," he said, his voice almost a whine, the intensity of his gaze making no secret, now, of how much he needed this, needed her, needed them, "please, can it be after this?"

And for the first - and almost certainly the last - time in their shared lives, Lily let James win an argument.

A/N: Wow, so it's crazy how much trouble this chapter gave me. In particular, I went back and forth a lot about the ending, but eventually I figured, eh, why not? It felt like what the characters wanted, and it was certainly fun for me to write.

Rest assured, though, that Lily will not be quitting the Twelve-Step Program just yet. You're stuck with me for roughly another ten chapters. Sorry, all!

Until next time, lots of love,
AllIWannaDo