WORDS

Summary: You see, I've figured out it's not the word that matters, it's... the emotions behind it." L/J. Part three.

Disclaimer: Nope. Tis all JKR and Brandi Carlile.

A/N: Here it is, the third part in what I refer to as "The Story" series. This one is important in order to clear up some stuff in "Rules" that people pointed out as being OOC. Which I totally understand...but I had a plan! Now I'll let you in on it. Enjoy!

You see the smile that's on my mouth,
It's hiding the words that don't come out.
And all of the friends who think that I'm blessed,
They don't know my head is a mess.

No, they don't know who I really am,
And they don't know what I've been through
Like you do, and I was made for you.

The Story, Brandi Carlile

"You're so lucky, Lily!"

"Soooo lucky! James is a total fox!"

Laughter.

"You mean lion, Dorcas!"

"Right!"

The surrounding girls laughed as they huddled in the stands. It was a blustery day, the wind tugging relentlessly at clothing and hair, and stealing hats and scarves whenever possible. Lily sat in the middle, her knees pulled up to her chest as she watched James flying high above. He'd flown down only a moment ago to wrap his scarf around Lily's neck, admonishing her for not bringing her own before placing a quick kiss on her lips and flying away. The other girls hadn't stopped giggling since.

Lily suspected it might have been the general air of excitement that had them in such a tizzy over James. It was the Quidditch Cup Finals after all. Gryffindor spirit was rampant with flags and cheers and contraband liquid merriment. Remus patted her shoulder.

"Why the long face?" he asked. "Prongs will never forgive me if he finds out I left you sulking the entire game."

"It's nothing," sighed Lily. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and tugged her hat a little further down. It was something, but she didn't want to discuss it.

"He says you've been 'snitty' all week – his word, not mine," he added when she arched an eyebrow.

"You lot gossip worse than girls, you know that?"

Remus shrugged, but kept silent. Peter burst through the crowd, carrying a flask full of something Lily was sure he wasn't supposed to have. His round cheeks were flushed.

"Lily!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "How're you? Prongs says you've been snitty lately."

"Merlin. You are girls," said Lily, rolling her eyes at Peter. "Since when did boys get so touchy-feely?"

"We care, Lily," said Peter.

"James cares," added Remus. "And he obsesses."

Peter nodded. "Especially about you."

"And that's spiffing," said Lily, "but really, it's nothing."

"S'not nothing," said Peter, wiping his mouth after taking a swig from his flask. "I may be thick, but I'm not that thick."

Lily patted his shoulder. "You're not thick Peter," she said absently. The players were getting into formation, the game about to start. She found James high above, joking with Sirius and his other teammates. Wondered why she still felt a twinge of anger toward him. Her memory flitted back to three weeks ago, and the message scrawled in blood red letters on the Great Hall wall. James brushing it aside. Ah. Yes. That was why. She frowned, rubbed a hand over her face. She had to let that go. Cheers rose up around her, signaling the beginning of the game. Marlene and Dorcas dragged Lily to her feet, having only just remembered she was there.

"C'mon Lils," Marlene said. "You have to cheer for that tasty man-cake of yours!"

Lily made a face, but laughed despite herself. The quaffle flew into the air, but the Gryffindor team seemed from in their places even though the game had begun.

And then it seemed to end before it had even really started.

Sirius lobbed a bludger right at Yaxley and James headed for Mulciber, ramming him right off his broom. Davis and McLaren followed suit, lunging for the Slytherins. James grabbed Mulciber by the collar and punched him so hard he broke his nose. Sirius was on the ground, having slammed Yaxley's face into the dirt. There was yelling, swearing, the Slytherins were in an uproar and had begun to flood the field, followed by the rest of the school. The pitch had become a mass of bodies, undulating and colourful, but horrifying as someone screamed above the clamour. Lily was on her feet, leaning over the railing of the stands, her heart in her throat.

The whole world seemed to slow as she saw Mulciber draw his wand, a flash of light as he hit James with a curse. He fell, his face tightened with pain. A scream clawed its way out of Lily's throat.

And then everything froze, and Dumbledore's voice boomed over the pitch, calling for order. But Lily felt separate, disjointed from the world as James lay unflinching on the ground, barely moving.

It seemed like days before Lily was able to convince McGonagall to let her go see James in the Hospital wing, but it was only a few hours. She hurried along the corridors, her flat shoes tapping against the stone.

The chaos had taken forever to die down. The match was cancelled. Due to the events that occurred during the game, no one would win. The Slytherins were furious, blaming the Gryffindors. She could still hear yelling from the dungeons – it echoed in the empty stone corridors.

"It may have looked like James and Sirius started it," Marlene had said, "but you know the Slytherins must have said something to set them off."

The Common room had been in an uproar, McGonagall forced to threaten expulsion on anyone who wouldn't sit down and listen as she explained the new rules. Curfew had been moved to an earlier time. No fighting or duelling of any kind in the halls. Punishment would be swift and severe.

"I'll go straight there and straight back, Professor," Lily had pleaded. "I just need to see him. I'll be ten minutes, tops."

She hadn't expected the old witch to let her.

The hospital wing came into view and Lily's pace quickened. She pushed past the doors, scanning quickly for his bed. She found him in the far corner by a window.

"Lily!" he said, his expression brightening the moment he saw her. "Look, Pomfrey gave me the window spot." His smile was guileless, his eyes a little too bright.

She was suddenly furious and she smacked his leg, "You stupid git!"

His smile disappeared and he sighed. "I knew you'd be angry."

"Then why did you do it? Why must you always insist on being such a pig headed ignoramus?" Her arms were crossed over her chest, her foot tapping. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Because I love you," he said. "And Mulciber called you...well. I'm sure you can guess."

"You...you love me?"

James nodded. "Yep. And it's not just the pain meds talking, is it Madame Pomfrey?" he called out across the room. The medi-witch mumbled something, but Lily was too distracted to listen. James was smiling again, bright and full.

"Pomfrey gave me something wicked to ease the pain, even though I told her – I said – 'the sight of your angelic face is pain killer enough for me, Poppy' – but she insisted," said James. He pointed to his chest before speaking again, "Said it was something awful Mulciber did to me, you know. Haven't seen anything like it. Split me right open like a bloody fish." He mimed gutting a fish up the belly.

Lily frowned. "Split you open?"

"Yeah," said James. "Bloody mental, right?"

Lily pulled back his sheets, eyeing the white bandages that covered his chest. Blood seeped through in a few places.

"Pomfrey said it was some kind of dark magic," said James, poking at one of the bandages, "So the healing would take a little longer than usual. Haven't seen anything like it, have you?"

Lily's voice was soft. "I have, actually."

"Really?" said James, curious. "Where?"

"Doesn't matter," said Lily, flipping his sheets back over him. "What does matter is what in the bloody hell you were thinking."

"Oh, you're using your angry voice again," sighed James. "Pity."

"James."

He scratched his head, winced as he stretched too far. "I guess I was thinking I had to defend you."

Lily paused. "But a few weeks ago..." she trailed off, confused.

James pushed his glasses up his nose. The action looked like it took more effort than it should have. "A few weeks ago...?"

"Someone wrote that all the Mudbloods and those that stood with them would die at the hands of Voldemort."

James made a face. "I remember."

Lily shook her head. "You make no sense, James Potter. Someone writes something terrible on the wall of the Great Hall about all of us, and you crack a joke. But Mulciber – who was clearly just trying to get a rise out of you before the game started – says one word and you clobber him. Well," she said, "tried to."

"I didn't mean too...but it was different," said James. He looked bleary eyed, the pain medication clearly making it difficult for him to keep his thoughts in order.

"Different how?" asked Lily. She pulled a chair next to him and sat. He looked at her, seemingly distracted.

"I'm not fifteen anymore," he said slowly. He opened his mouth to continue, but the words seemed to get stuck, and he paused.

"James?"

"I was stupid then, Lily. Jumping into fights I didn't even really understand just because someone used a stupid word. You see, I've figured out it's not the word that matters, it's... the emotions behind it," said James. "I was furious about what they'd written, Lily. Furious. I wanted nothing more than to rip the face off of whoever had written that. But it wasn't worth it. I didn't know who'd written it, and it was just...words. But Mulciber..."

James sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. "It wasn't smart. But he was saying things about you, and I just...I lost it. And it was stupid. I shouldn't have done it. I should have done a better job picking my battles. Words are words, nothing more, I've got to remember that."

"Your battles?" Lily asked.

"In order to win the war," said James. "But I guess it was just...what's that thing Dumbledore always says? The coin that clogged the niffler's snout?"

"You mean the straw that broke the camel's back?"

James paused. "Mine's better," he said. "But that'll work too."

Lily found herself smiling. "Okay, James."

"Hey Lily?" said James. He looked sleepy. His eyes kept fluttering closed.

"Yes, James?"

"Did I tell you I love you?"

"Yeah, you did."

"Ooops," he said, "I wasn't supposed to tell you until next Hogsmeade weekend."

"Next weekend? Why then?"

"Cause," he yawned, "You were being snitty this week. Didn't think you'd say if back while you were all in a huff."

Lily rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed in place. She took his hand, wove their fingers together.

"Hey Lily?"

"Yes?"

He blinked at her, fighting off sleep. "Did you say it back?"

Lily opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn't want to come out. Panic, fear, uncertainty coiled inside her, squeezing her heart. James squeezed her hand.

"S'okay Lily," he said. "Like I said...S'not about the words. I know you love me... even if you can't say it."

"Yeah?" said Lily, grinning at him, "What makes you so certain?"

"Easy," he said, his eyes fluttering closed, "I'm charming."

She laughed, and he smiled, his head tilting to the side as sleep finally caught him. She watched him as he dozed lightly, eyed the bit of bandage pressed across his chest. She wasn't used to the feeling that flooded her at the sight of it – a bit of her heart ripping open, pain of the acutest kind, both strange and powerful. A feral protectiveness, deeply rooted.

Love? Love.

She smiled.

"Hey James?" she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I love you too."