Written for Hogwarts' Gobstones Club: Purple Stone - Sadness, (dialogue) "Don't leave me.", (pairing) James/Lily, (song) "Story of My Life" by One Direction, the Jilytober Event: Trope: Character A gets amnesia, Character B must make Character A fall in love with them again, the Around the World in Thirty-One Day Event: Tuvalu - Dialogue: "There has to be something I can do.", and the Writing Club: Night Surgeon - (word) Remember.

Word count: 3001

written on these walls are the colors that I can't change

The moment Sirius and Remus stumble in through the door, carrying a bloody and unconscious James over their shoulders, Lily can swear that her heart stops dead in her chest.

"What happened?" she asks, hands trembling as she helps them lower James onto the couch and kneels by his side. Her voice sounds unsteady even to her ears, but she doesn't have the heart or will to pretend to be alright when James is just so still.

He's never still, awake, and that was something that had freaked her the first time she woke up before him. For an instant, she had thought he was dead—if not for the steady rise of his chest, she would think that too now.

"What happened?" she repeats, unshed tears burning behind her eyes, and Remus rests a hand that shakes as much as Lily's hands on her shoulder. Lily clasps it for a moment, desperate for its grounding weight, while Sirius cleans the blood on her husband's face, and closes the wound on his scalp with a quick Episkey.

Lily's always been useless at Healing charms, but she's never hated that fact before. James always joked that he was skilled enough for the both of them, but now, with him lying so pale before her, it makes her sick, and angry.

"We were fighting," Remus replies grimly, "and he was hit with some kind of spell. I didn't see what it was—it came from behind us—but whatever it was, it made him drop on the spot. The blood is from him hitting his head as he fell, and as far as we know, he's okay—or he's going to be. We just don't know why he won't wake up."

Lily laughs bitterly, moving to take James' hands in hers, her fingers tracing slow circles over his knuckles. "So he won't wake, but apart from that, he's okay?" she scoffs. "I wouldn't call that okay at all, now, would you?"

Remus winces when she turns to glare at him, and it feels viciously good to have him flinch back.

Good, the angry part of her brain whispers, he should fear you, fear what you would do if you find out this was his fault, that he wasn't careful enough.

But no, this isn't what she wants. This won't help James get better.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, not trusting her voice to hold if she speaks any louder. "I don't know what came over me."

Remus' lips twist into a humorless smile. "It's fine, I get it. I probably would react the same way if…" His eyes flick to Sirius for an instant before he shrugs, and oh, how did Lily not see this before? "Anyway, I do get it."

Lily smiles back wryly. "I'm still sorry."

"Then you're forgiven," Remus replies, patting her shoulder once.

Lily nods back silently and busies herself with staring at James with a kind of fervent intensity, checking his face for any sign of him waking up. Every so often, she catches sight of Sirius' arm as he waves his wand to cast another spell Lily couldn't tell you the use of, his magic casting odd, colored shadows over James' face.

She's so intent on her husband that she doesn't notice Remus has moved to Sirius' side until Sirius curses loudly. "Damn it!" he shouts, eyes wild as he runs a hand through his hair, the other already raised to cast another spell. "Why won't this just work?"

Violent red sparks jet out of his wand, only narrowly avoiding touching Lily and James because Remus pushed Sirius' arm down quickly. "Hey," he says, voice kind but firm, "breathe. You won't be any help to James if you break down."

Sirius' body is as tense as a strung bow, but when Remus rubs his back, words of concern falling from his lips too low for Lily to hear, he collapses against the werewolf as though he's a puppet whose strings have been cut.

"I don't know what to do," he sobs, and Lily's heart goes out to him. "I don't know what to do. I just—there has to be something I can do!"

It's easy to forget, when Sirius stands so tall and smiles so much, that she's not the only one who loves James, who considers him family.

"He's going to be fine," she manages to voice with a confidence she doesn't feel, but the way Sirius seems to pull himself together at her words, Remus smiling gratefully at her over his back, is worth once little white lie. "He'd be the first to tell you that one little spell won't keep him down for long," she jokes, and she's pleased to hear Sirius give a wet chuckle.

Sirius steps away from Remus, wiping his eyes quickly. He doesn't get the chance to try again, because James wakes up with a gasp, sitting up so quickly he almost headbutts Lily right in the nose.

She doesn't have time to feel relief, because while James' brown eyes sharpen with awareness quickly, he backs away from her just as fast.

"What," he says, voice raspy from disuse, "is going on here? And who are you?" he asks, glaring first at Lily and then at Sirius and Remus.

It hurts more than she thought possible, when he seems to recognize them after a few moments. "Sirius? Remus? What is going on here? And who is she?" he repeats, pointing at Lily like she isn't there beside him, listening—like she hasn't been by his side for years now.

Is this what a broken heart feels like? She thinks it must be. There can be no other explanation for the shards of glass she feels piercing her lungs every time she tries to breathe.

"Well," James asks impatiently, "I'm waiting. Come on, guys, this isn't funny."

Lily's laugh, when it comes bubbling out of her chest, scares even her. "No," she agrees, tone as cold as polar winter, "it's not."

.

Half an hour later, and James is still sitting on the sofa, but he's now wearing a stunned expression on his face as he keeps sneaking these looks Lily's way, like he can't quite believe that she's real.

"You mean to tell me that I'm married?" he asks for what feels like the hundredth time, and the disbelief in his voice hurts just as much as it had the ninety-ninth first times.

More, perhaps, because it still shows no sign of going away.

"Excuse me," she says, standing up stiffly. Her knees hurt from so long spent kneeling, because even know that James is awake she hasn't been able to move away from her position by his side, even to sit on the couch, but she can't stay here.

She can't do this anymore.

Someone calls after her, but Lily ignores it. The voice calling out to her isn't the one she wants to hear, anyway.

She finds herself standing in the kitchen without really knowing how she got there, and though her eyes burn, she doesn't cry until she sees the dinner she'd been ready to make.

It's James' favorite, and Lily doesn't really like to cook but she's good at it, and sometimes, she likes to surprise her husband with a more elaborate dish than reheated pasta.

The ingredients are still out, ready for her to cast her spells and assemble the dish, but now they're taunting her. An hour earlier, she'd been eagerly awaiting James' return, and now that he's here, she wishes he had never come back at all. Maybe, then, she wouldn't have to know what it was like to look into the eyes of a man she loves and see nothing that loves her back.

She doesn't know how long she stands there, staring at nothing, until she hears soft padded footsteps enter the room.

If she closes her eyes, she can almost believe that James will greet her the way he always does: wrapping his arms around her waist, dropping kisses down her neck that she pretends she doesn't enjoy until she can turn around and kiss him hello properly, standing on her tiptoe and letting James jokes that she's falling for him, again, when she inevitably stumbles.

But that's not what happens. Lily opens her eyes and turns around, and the real world comes crashing in as an awkward silence settles in between them, James fiddling with his ring instead of truly looking at her.

"So, married, huh?" he tries to joke, huffing out a forced laugh. "How long?"

Lily barely blinks. "Didn't they tell you?"

James shrugs, but when he raises his head to look at Lily, his hazel eyes sparkle with the kind of fire that made her fall for him in the first place, and for an instant, Lily can see her husband, her James in this man who wears his skin; and it takes her breath away.

"They did," he agrees. "But maybe I wanted to hear it from you, too."

Lily smiles wryly, playing with her ring wistfully. "Almost two years, now," she replies, and as she says it, she sees their wedding day flash before her eyes, the scene clear as day—it hadn't been a perfect day (her father hadn't been there to give her away, and Petunia had sneered at her when Lily had invited her), but it had been perfect to them.

To Lily, it had truly been the best day of her life.

"And we've been together for…"

"Almost four years," Lily snorts, voice kind despite herself. It seems that she is unable to be mad at this James the same way she can never stay mad at her husband, and isn't that something, to find out that love transcends even the fact that James looks at her and sees a stranger.

Something flashes in James' eyes, something hot and sad and a little bit desperate. He takes a bold step forward, and Lily's breath catches in her chest.

"How did I forget you, then?" he asks in a rale, and Lily longs to comfort him.

"I don't know," she replies instead, forcing herself to hold still. "I wish someone would tell me, so that I could reverse it."

She can see James swallowing heavily, leaning back a little, as though he was trying to absorb a blow that hadn't come yet. "Sirius and Remus have left. Do you…" He licked his lips. "Do you want me to go with them?"

Lily flinches. "No," she blurts out, the word scrapping her throat raw as she says it. "No, please. Don't—don't leave me."

She means more than 'don't leave me now'. She means 'don't go' and 'stay' and 'I don't know what I would do without you', and 'I don't think I can sleep alone anymore', all wrapped up in one, but even that doesn't do justice to the way her heart bleeds at the thought of being in this home they've built for themselves without James.

James' eyes soften impossibly. If Lily was one to believe in hope, she'd probably call it love, but right now, hoping hurts too much.

"Alright," James replies. "I'll stay."

The relief is so overwhelming Lily doesn't understand how she manages to keep standing. "Thank you," she breathes.

"You're welcome," James smiles. He's still looking at Lily, and oh, she knows that smile, knows that look in his eyes.

She can't help it: she smiles back and lets her heart hope, and prays that this pain will be worth it somehow.

(but it's James, how can it not be?)

.

It's odd, that Lily hadn't thought about their sleeping arrangements before it was too late. They had eaten dinner in awkward silence, both of them sneaking glances when they thought the other wasn't looking; and had gone up to the bedroom almost immediately.

Exhaustion weighs heavily on Lily's shoulders, both physical and emotional, but the moment James crosses the threshold into their room and freezes, Lily realizes that she doesn't think she can sleep.

"I can sleep on the sofa, if you need," James suggests after a short pause, voice carefully even.

And if there's anything Lily needs to remind herself that this isn't her husband—but it is, and that only makes this worse—it would be him wanting to sleep anywhere but by her side.

"Don't be an idiot," Lily snaps, instantly regretting it. She bites back a sigh and rolls her shoulders, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. But, no, you don't need to go. I-" can't sleep without you, she doesn't say—because this isn't the first time she almost lost James because of this damned war, and the nightmares only ever ease up when she can see that James is fine, and by her side.

"Maybe this will help you remember," she says instead, sending him a helpless little smile.

James doesn't look convinced—what did Sirius and Remus tell him about his amnesia that she doesn't know, she wonders—but he nods anyway.

They change in silence, sliding under the covers and turning off the lights quickly.

And Lily was right—even though she's dead tired, she feels wide awake, heart pulsing in her chest.

She almost jumps out of her skin when she feels James' hand on hers, slowly intertwining their fingers. It's so soft it makes her chest hurt, but she finds herself squeezing back instantly, her grip on his fingers probably too tight and painful—but James doesn't voice a complaint, only running a thumb across her knuckles slowly.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you," James whispers.

"I'm sorry, too," Lily whispers back. "I haven't been… very nice to you tonight."

The sheets ruffle as James shrugs. "It's fine, really," he answers, and Lily can hear his amused smile in his voice. "I probably wouldn't have reacted any better had I been in your place, and I guess I didn't exactly make it easy on you, either."

"It's fine," she echoes. "You did just lose all your memories of me, you know," she says, trying to inject some humor in her voice.

"I know," James snorts. His thumb pauses over the back of her hand, a spot of warmth that makes Lily's skin tingle. "It's a shame, really," he says, and Lily's heart speeds up in her chest.

"It is?" she asks, wincing when the words come out as high-pitched.

James hums low in his throat, his thumb resuming its movement. She can hear him twist around to face her, even if she can't really see it in the darkness. "Yeah," he says. "Because if I remembered you, wanting to kiss you wouldn't feel weird, and I'd remember what kissing you feels like."

Lily smiles so quickly it makes her dizzy. From James' sudden silence, she can tell that he didn't mean to tell her this much, but that only makes her smile grow wider—James may have forgotten her, but she still knows him, and that's more reassuring than she'd thought it would be.

"I'm sorry," James finally says. "I shouldn't have… I don't know what came over me."

Lily squeezes his hand once, reassuringly. "Don't be," she replies. "I thought it was sweet."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Lily confirms. It's hard, in the dark, to remember why this isn't a good idea—this James isn't the man she's been dating for four years, the one who knows everything about her, or as good as, and that she knows as well as she knows herself in return.

It's hard to remember that even though she still loves him—is she even capable of stopping now?—he doesn't love her. Or maybe, she wonders, the thought crossing her mind almost too quickly for Lily to catch, he simply doesn't know that he does.

Is it possible? Does love linger even without the memories? Right now, is James feeling the same way she is, heart pounding in his chest and breath catching in his throat, afraid of hoping and yet too tired to resist hope's fathomless pull?

"Hey," she calls out in the dark.

"Yes?" James answers, voice low and sleep-soft already.

"I-" Lily's voice catches at the back of her throat, and she swallows heavily. "We'll find a way to get you your memories back, okay? There are people we can ask, and there's always St Mungo's, even if they might look at us weird when we can't tell them what happened, but we'll figure this out. I swear."

"And if I don't?" James asks after a moment of silence. "What if I never remember?"

Lily takes in a wobbling breath and forces her voice to stay steady. "Well, then I guess we'll get to make new memories," she says. The next words don't want to come out—they stick in her throat like honey, only bitter and cold—but Lily forces them out anyway. She's terribly glad James can't see the way tears are gathering in her eyes. "If you want to stay with me."

The sound of her heartbeat pounding anxiously in her chest feels deafening in the silence that follows, and only the fact that James' hand is still in hers lets her hold onto that tenuous string of hope she feels unfurl slowly around her heart.

"New memories, huh?"

Throat tight, Lily replies, "If nothing else works, and only if you want to."

"I guess there are worse fates than falling in love with you again, Lily."

Heart skipping a beat in her chest, Lily doesn't know whether to cry or laugh, so she does both, letting out a wet chuckling sound.

"Thanks, I guess," she says. Then, softer, she adds, "Good night."

"Good night."

And Lily closes her eyes and leans back into the bed, praying that tomorrow will be a kinder day, that that tiny seed of hope rooted in her chest blooms into something stronger.

Into something that will stay.