A/N: So here's part 2, and it turns out there will need to be a part 3 as well. I know the tone of this is a bit different, but I was trying to write with colours, and it was more fun than I expected. Part 3 will hopefully be up soonishly. Enjoy!

Comfort (part 2)

by padfoot

...

James doesn't know how long he stays there for, staring at the plain mahogany of Lily's bedside table. The setting sun throws long shafts of orange beams into the room, leaving diamonds of yellow spattered on the walls. As time goes on, the lights fades until it merely echoes of sunglow, then suddenly turns a dusky lavender colour before finally settling as plum-dark shadows: shattered beams of moonlight filtered through clouds.

And still James sits.

His arse is aching and cold against the dusty floorboards of the girls' dormitory floor. His head has slumped forward against his chest, spots of pain singing in his neck at the strange angle it's curved at. Behind him, on the bed, he suspects Lily has fallen asleep.

"Are you awake?" a voice asks, and James' head jerks up, his neck twitching painfully.

He realises, with a dull sort of surprise, that he was the one who had dozed off.

"James?" Lily's tone is more pressing and sharp, far from the gentle, breathy way she'd said 'Thank you'.

"Mmph," the sound escapes unexpectedly from James' mouth, and he lets himself yawn before managing to say, "Yeah... yep. M'awake." He yawns widely again, sitting up straighter and stretching his shoulders and back. Merlin, his neck is sore.

Behind him, the bed covers shuffle as Lily moves, and James turns around to see her sitting up, pushing out of the sheets she had wrapped herself in. Lily's face is still a bit splotchy and red, patches of scarlet sitting high on her cheeks and at the end of her nose. Her eyes are bright though – an alert, bright forest green – no longer swollen from crying. She holds herself comfortably too, now, surely. Whatever it was that had upset her so much, she has clearly recovered. Or decided to appear recovered, at least.

"I'm hungry," Lily announces, "Do you want to go down to dinner?"

James turns to pointedly look at the antique brass clock on the wall. Its little second hand's ticking seems amplified by their attention. Dinner time has long since passed, and James is secretly grateful that by some miracle no one has entered the dormitory yet.

"Right," Lily says. "Well I guess I'll just have to starve then."

James chuckles. No one has ever claimed that Lily wasn't a fan of melodramatics, but the statement is still a rare treat to hear from her. She usually doesn't let herself slip up in front of him and say anything too selfish or, you know, human. Probably because she thinks it would give him some sort of ammunition for their arguments.

"You're right," James replies, "Those thrice-a-day banquets just don't provide enough sustenance for us growing girls and boys. Miss one you're dead, starved."

"Don't be a prat, Potter," Lily advises, and makes a point of bumping into him hard as she swings her legs off the bed and stands up.

He follows her lead, groaning at the ache in his neck but refusing to complain about it to her. She'd probably just tell him to harden up, don't be stupid, you didn't have to stay here, Potter, could've left anytime you bloody...

So he doesn't say anything, just rubs the back of his neck and follows the swish of her chestnut hair out of the dormitory and downstairs into the Common Room.

Everything glows with copper-gold light, the space feeling large but cosy as the cold evening air presses against the windows. There are little groups of people gathered on armchairs and rugs, most hunched over their homework, finishing off final assignments and essays before exam time comes. Lily waves to a group of fifth years, who beckon her over. For a moment James thinks she's just going to leave and he'll be standing in the middle of the Common Room like an idiot, but Lily simply shakes her head at the girls and continues towards the portrait hole. She waits there for James to catch up, and silently they duck through it together.

"Where to now?" Lily asks, and James jumps a bit at being directly addressed. He'd thought he was just meant to follow her.

"Um," he pauses, looks down the staircases, left and right, "The kitchens. You're still hungry, right?"

Lily smiles, but it looks a little tired and fades quickly, "Right," she agrees.

They turn left and walk on in silence.

James is a step or two ahead of Lily, leading the way with a humble confidence that he hopes she takes note of. The castle is quiet at this time – just after dinner but before it's properly night and they have to be in bed. Midnight blue, the sky outside seems to suck all the heat and light out of the corridors. The burnt orange glow from the lanterns along the walls does little to counter it.

Beside him, James feels Lily shiver, but she doesn't say anything in complaint. Aware that she'll never know how far his consideration for her stretches, James bypasses a shortcut that leads down an outer wall of the castle and instead heads for warmer corridors.

As they near the kitchens, people start crossing their paths, a group of Hufflepuffs coming back from the library, clutching armfuls of books and talking softly among themselves. They all smile hellos and Lily and James smile back. James likes that they don't question his and Lily's presence.

"See you on the Quidditch field, Potter!" one of the Hufflepuffs calls as a farewell, and James raises his hand in acknowledgement.

"That's Audrey," he tells Lily, mostly to fill in the silence, "Miles Audrey. Hufflepuff Seeker. Best player on their team, easy. Everyone thought he'd be in Ravenclaw with his brothers, but then the Hat picked Hufflepuff and he was ecstatic about it. He's the reason Ravenclaw's come last in Quidditch for the past two years. They were counting on him to fix their team up."

"Oh," Lily replies, and James wishes she'd say something more.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," he says, and Lily shoots him a questioning look. "About how you were upset. It's nobody's business, and whatever argument we have tomorrow or the next day or the next month or the next year, I'm not going to tease you about crying every so often."

Lily's eyebrows contract into a frown, and instantly James senses that he's done something wrong. He really should've just stayed silent.

"I don't cry every so often, Potter," Lily shoots back, bristling, "I cry when genuinely bad things happen and I am genuinely upset by them."

"I know that, Lily, I didn't mean-"

"And it's not as if I invited you to come and watch me cry. Merlin, Potter, you came barging in to my dormitory during dinner time! I wasn't exactly putting myself in your path, begging you to come cheer me up!"

"I wasn't trying to cheer you up, I was just-"

"And if you dare give me some sort of punishment for bothering to trust you with something as stupid as me being upset – because you know what, Potter? everyone cries sometimes, it's only bloody human of me! – then you have got another thing coming because I swear I will curse your arse all the way back to-"

"We're here," James mutters miserably, resigned to his fate, and Lily stops short, staring at the portrait in front of them.

Reaching out a hand, James tickles the pear in its bowl of fruit, its giggling catching and echoing in the silence between him and Lily. It seems to take an age for the kitchen door to swings open.

"I was just trying to be nice," James says, more than a little sulkily, "Sorry. I won't do it again."

And he walks into the kitchen, hearing, but refusing to look back, as Lily follows him.