A/N: Short and sweet and to the point. It practically wrote itself. (The HP universe is not mine.)

Stepping out of the shower, James dries himself off quickly and then throws on a clean shirt, a pair of underwear, and some clean trousers. Or, well, mostly clean. Instead of going down to breakfast to meet his mates, he enters his now-empty bedroom and heads straight for his curtained four-poster bed.

Looking in, he sees his girlfriend lounging on his bed, wearing nothing but her underwear and one of his white button-downs and reading out of his Transfiguration textbook. She looks up as he moves the curtain aside. "Come to join me?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be here." He maneuvers his way into the bed, one leg after the other, folding awkwardly so as to not disturb the curtain so much that he'd have to fix it later. He hates messing with that curtain, although he is very appreciative of the privacy it allows. He moves to sit next to Lily, his girlfriend, criss-cross-apple-sauce, and lets his wet hair drip back onto his pillow.

"Would I just leave you without saying goodbye?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"That was just one time!" She protests, closing the book and hitting him lightly with it.

He fends her off with one hand. "So violent."

"Me? Never." She grins but it's slightly mischievous. That's what he loves about her.

He leans back, letting his head rest on his pillow and letting his legs stretch out. She angles her body slightly so that she can play with his hair. He leans his head up into her hand. He loves when she does that.

"So I was thinking," he says, letting his fingers run up and down a few inches of her bare calf, drawing nonsense symbols like the number 8.

"Mm?" She asks, picking up the book again and opening it to her previous page.

"We should break up."

"Oh really?" Lily studies his eyes as he looks away – probably towards the place where one curtain meets another. Light hazel today.

"Yes," he nods, serious.

"And what reason do you have for me this time?"

"Well," he says, pretending to think. "I've already used the one about how you are too good for me, right?"

"Mmhmm," she says. "Which is true but irrelevant."

"And the one about how I'm too good for you."

"Which is complete nonsense."

"So I should probably use something different."

"Probably," she agrees.

"How about that's what most couples do at the end of seventh year? They break up."

"Or they get engaged," she says.

He looks over at her, sharply. She pretends not to notice. "What?"

"Or they get engaged," she repeats, fiddling with the worn corner of the book. "Like Frank and Alice, last year, when he left."

"We're not Frank and Alice," he says, and his fingers resume their previous symbol-drawing.

"We're not Marlene and Davey, either. Is that what this is about?"

She is too perceptive for her own good. "No," he lies.

She looks up from her book, "James," she says. "We're not Marlene and Davey."

"I know," he says, looking up at her. She places the book at the foot of the bed and then maneuvers in the small space so that she is lying down next to him, her head in the crook of his arm.

"I'm not going to break up with you," she says finally.

"Promise?"

She turns to look at him. Her eyes speak volumes. "I promise."

He kisses the top of her head and pulls her closer, thinking for a moment about where he is going to buy her engagement ring and what it will look like .

Graduation is only a week away. He needs to be prepared.

She snuggles closer and drapes a pale leg over his casually. "And James?" She says softly.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing too large, alright?"

He smiles, hoping she can't tell. She probably can. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Review, please?