A Realisation

It had been a spiteful comment – but just that, a comment. Nothing more. After all, sticks and stones can break my bones but words can't hurt me, she reminds herself. Just a comment, a silly word – Mudblood.

Regardless, she couldn't stop them. One steady tear after the other, creating hot streaks on her face, comfort from the biting winter air that filled the Heads' Common Room.

She chastises herself for her weakness. The Evans women don't cry over the trivial aspects of their lives – at least not when there was a war raging on around them. But those emotions – the hatred, fear and anger of war were somehow swallowed up in her grief.

She hears something stir behind her, a gentle scuffle of feet, a yawn.

"Hey, why're you awa – Lily, are you alright?"

Perfect, she thinks, he wakes up when I'm at my weakest, being pathetic…crying over some remark! Congratulations Lily, James Potter now sees that you emotionally unstable, ridiculous, uncontrollable, and ridiculous – plain ridiculous!

"Yeah, no, I'm good. I'm fine," she turns to him, faking a smile, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

He glances at her, "Well you don't look fine."

He sits beside her on the baywindow, his head resting against the window pane, arm along the sill behind her. Very close, she notices; close enough to smell the lingering whisper of aftershave, to feel the heat coming through his t shirt.

"Come here," he whispers, beckoning to the space under his arm. The crook in his body in which she will fit perfectly. Comfortably.

"No – really, I'm fine. I'm fine," she retorts, her fake smile still lingering, "go back to sleep, James…we've got lessons tomorrow."

"Lily, look at me," he says softly, "look me in the eye and tell me truthfully that you're absolutely fine, and I'll go…but from what I can see you're far from fine."

She fakes a weak smile, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It's nothing, I'm just being stupid. I'm not fine but – but this isn't a real issue. Not when the outside world is such a mess."

She shifts towards him. A few centimetres.

He chuckles, "I must smell awful if that's as close as you're gonna get!"

She smiles, "It's not that! Promise! I – well, we just became friends. Really good friends. I don't want to dump all of this on you now. You're gonna think I'm a proper nutjob."

This time he moves towards her, encircling her shoulders with one arm. She leans against it slightly, enjoying the comfortable weight, the warmth of a body, his regular breathing.

"You won't ever be a nutjob, and I can say – I'm completely nuts myself."

She laughs, forgetting for a moment just how upset she is.

Maybe words really can't hurt her, she considers, even those filthy remarks spat from Severus' betraying mouth. Maybe sticks and stones or broken bones, James would always be able to fix her.