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Chapter Text

‘Evans’, the captain calls, and Lily turns to him, slightly afraid as she always feels when she hears her name. Maybe this is the day her secret will be found, this is the day she will be expelled and will fall in disgrace —

But Captain Potter has one of his carefree trademark grins, none at all looking as if he is about to arrest her. He looks at ease, leaning against one of the training posts, arms crossed lazily, watching her with interest shining in his hazel eyes as if she is a puzzle he will understand someday.

Lily truly wishes he won't, so she avoids looking at him directly in the eyes.

‘Captain’, she answers at least, saluting. That seems to amuse him.

‘I have a name, you know’.

‘Hum’, she stops, unsure. Her interactions with the captain have been restricted — well, her interactions with everyone have been limited —, but she has watched him from afar. 

He is young and yet he never tries to act bossy with all the other soldiers, never tries to impose himself. He may have a more affinity with three of the soldiers (his friends for a long time, as she gathered), but he tries to treat everyone fairly, encouraging and teaching all soldiers equally, from the weakest of them to the strongest, and it’s not hard for her to see why everyone is willing to follow him into battle. The only one that he hadn’t been able to reach some sort of relationship was with her.

Something that had fit Lily’s plans and worries very well.

‘Captain Potter?’, she tries.

‘I am someone besides a rank’, he suggests.

‘Mr. Potter’.

‘That would be my father. I am James ’, he says at least, as if she is unfamiliar with the name of the youngest captain of the army.

‘I know , but — it would not be proper —’

‘Liam’, he stops her and, just as anytime someone uses that name, Lily wants to look around searching for that person until she remembers her situation. ‘Can I call you Liam?’

‘I’d rather Evans’, she answers, grimacing, and when he looks dismayed, she adds quickly: ‘It’s how everyone calls me. Not… it’s more personal, really’.

‘Fine, Evans’. He grins again. It’s a beautiful smile, so open and inviting, that again Lily has no difficulty understanding the success he makes with all the other soldiers, why their unity is unanimous in praising him. There is something on him that draws people to him — her included. ‘Well, call me James. I can order you to if it will make it more proper’.

Lily lets out a laugh before she stops herself, biting her lips, worried. She shouldn’t laugh; though she can disguise her voice mildly well, her laugh is too thin, too sparkling. It’s not a man’s grave laugh.

Fortunately, the captain doesn’t seem to find anything amiss. He looks just… glad with her reaction.

‘So you are capable of laughing’, he notes teasingly. ‘I had my doubts, you know’.

‘There has never been an occasion, Cap — James ’.

He opens his mouth in an offended expression; it’s so dramatic that, again, she wants to laugh. ‘I beg your pardon? Yesterday, when someone — a very clever someone, I might add — pretended to be shot by an arrow? That was an occasion!’

‘Wasn’t that you?’, she asks, raising her eyebrows. It had been a long tense one minute in which one of the other soldiers, Sirius, had been sure he had shot by mistake the captain and his best friend before James had revealed himself alive, laughing hysterically and showing the fake arrow attached to his badge.

Sirius had punched him, all rank forgotten, but then he was laughing too and everyone thought it was hilarious.

‘It was fun ’.

‘It was terrifying’.

‘Oh, so you were terrified I’d died?’, he jokes, his grin now very smug. ‘And I thought you didn’t like me’.

Lily blushes, lowering her head and hoping he hadn’t noticed it. Truth was she had misjudged him on the first day, annoyed by the way he acted with that captain badge pinned on his chest. He came from a long family of militars, after all, and he was very young, no matter what his father would praise about his grades in military school, so she had truly believed he didn’t deserve to be a captain, that he had only got there for his family name.

In the last few weeks, though, she was forced to admit he was a good captain. He had the vision for it, good ideas, an efficient way of training everyone and, of course, he was a leader.

‘I have nothing against you, sir — James’.

‘I’m glad to know’, he says, sounding earnest. ‘I am worried about you, you know’.

‘Have I done something wrong?’, she asks, surprised, fear involving her again. Lily had taken care of doing all exercises, overworking herself, all to prove that that stupid rule that forbid women in the army did not make any sense. They needed everyone in the fight against Voldemort, after all, and she would not wait patiently, especially when people like her were one of his targets.

‘No, no, you’ve been perfect, really, no one dedicates as much as you’, he assures her. ‘But you don’t socialize. You stay quiet during dinner. You don’t participate in any of the games', he pauses, before adding again dramatically: 'You don’t laugh at my pranks!’

All of it is true. Lily has purposefully gotten away from everyone, afraid they would notice something different about her, though that quiet soldier, Remus, had tried to talk to her. She just feels she can't risk.

‘I do not think it’s time for pranks, James’, she answers, deciding the last point was probably the easiest.

He shakes his head. ‘We are at war, Evans. If we don’t laugh now, we may not laugh after’.

She supposes he is right. And even though he enjoys more pranks than she thinks it’s reasonable, she knows he worries too. More than once, when she is on guard duty, she has noticed the light of his tent is on very late in the night. James may look carefree with everyone else, but he has concerns about the war — and what lies in his shoulder.

‘Your work has been impeccable’, he adds quietly. ‘I just want you to get to know more of your colleagues and for them to know more about you’. Lily presses her lips, hoping her worry doesn’t show on her face. That was all she was trying to avoid. ‘You will need to count on them in the battlefield and they will need to know you have their backs too. And the only way to do that is if we trust each other. Can we do that?’

James is waiting for her answer, his eyes boring into hers firmly, and Lily can’t turn away now. In the light of the morning, with the sun shining on his face, his hazel eyes seem to glint in gold, the pupil barely visible. He has wrinkles on the side of his eyes, and she suddenly wishes they weren’t meeting in the army while she is pretending to be an introverted thin young man.

He seems the kind of guy she would like to meet in college, or to grow up together with, or even in a dancing club with her friends; they would talk and she could be then fully herself, could share with him her witty side and even help him in a prank or two. In that other life she would appreciate how nice and beautiful he is, with that black hair that’s always messy no matter how much he tries to comb, and those hazel eyes that were made for laughing, not to be worried for the war.

But that’s not her life and she is sure that if he ever finds out about her, he will hate her. Somehow, with how much she has learned to admire him in the last weeks, she fears his rejection more than she fears being expelled from the army. 

Lily knows she would trust James Potter with her life, knows she would do her duty and die for him if it was needed, and yet she also knows she can't ever tell him  her secret.

So she does what she has been doing best ever since she joined the army.

‘We can trust each other’, she lies.

He beams. ‘Great, Evans! And I thought we could start sharing your mourning runs’. He raises one eyebrow when she looks surprised. ‘I’ve noticed you awake at dawn to run’.

‘I like to train’, she admits. ‘I am… thinner than the others, so I am trying to get fitter’.

‘You look a lot better’, he compliments, touching her arm, where her biceps have been evolving nicely. It’s a pat, a soft brush, and yet it sends shivers down Lily’s spine; his hand is warm . ‘Mind if I join you?’

She hesitates just a little. ‘I will stay quiet’, she warns him. ‘I like to think while I run’.

‘Works for me. And if you want to share a thought or another, well, I’m here, Evans’.

He winks at her, again so friendly that she turns her eyes away, wishing she could tell him the truth. But she can’t, so she presses her lips, ties the ribbon around her hair so the bun stays in place, and kneels to make sure her shoes are tied. Then she raises and her heart stops for a full second.

James has taken out his shirt. She knows he is fit — there is no way he can’t be with all the years of training he had — and she has seen before shirtless, but only when she was far away in the line, hoping to get unnoticed as she trained the movements.

Now, it’s only him, his tanned skin glistening under the morning sun, a god coming out of her dreams. She is staring and she knows it, but there is no way she can avoid it; weeks at the army have made her lost a lot of discomfourt around men's body, but this... This doesn't seem fair.

She watches the muscles in his arms, his biceps far more evident than hers will ever be, and it suddenly occurs to Lily that she would like very much to feel them around her, involving her, holding her. There would be only benefits in hugging him, she realizes, as her eyes move to his torso, enjoying the firmness of his chest and the muscles in his abdomen, a six pack that seems drawn perfectly. In his arms, she would glide her hand through his chest, would place a kiss over his heart and then she would raise her head and they would be so close —

And then James stretches his arms, raising them above his head, and she notices the hair on his torso, a few patches near his chest that shine with a few drops of sweat she wouldn’t mind drying, and then the darked patch over his abdomen, in a path that goes on vanishing inside…

When she finds herself staring at his pants, Lily decides she has crossed more limits that it's reasonable.

She turns, all her concentration in avoiding glancing at him again, though she feels it's fruitless. The sight of him seems to be recorded in her mind. He will appear on her dream, she is sure of it.

‘Everything all right, Evans?’, he asks, right behind her, and she jumps. 'You look red'.

Lily knows it; her face is hot, burning even before she has started to run, and she won’t fool herself pretending she doesn’t know the reason. 

‘I'm fine, let’s go’, she answers quickly, heart racing in her chest. This was a horrible idea; mourning runs with her very gorgeous hot captain will do no good for her keeping her secret.

She sprints without warning, but he catches up with her easily. She keeps her eyes ahead. Don't look, don't stare, don't ogle.

‘There is something special about you, Evans’, he declares, the run not seeming to disturb his breathing. ‘I will find out one day’.

Chapter Text

James sighs, perhaps too deeply, because Sirius turns to watch him, his face still half-covered with shaving cream.

‘What?’

James blinks. ‘What what?’

‘You’ve been sighing all night’, Sirius notes, turning to the mirror, the razor stable on his hand as he carefully shaves his beard. ‘Well, all week, but Remus told me not to mention’.

‘I’m not sighing. I am just breathing’.

‘Loudly. Looking a little pathetic too, mate. I should warn you as your best friend’.

‘Shouldn’t you have warned me before ?’

‘So do you admit you are sighing, Captain Prongs?’, Sirius teases, slipping in their old childhood nicknames.

James doesn’t answer; he can’t think of anything clever to say, which unfortunately has been a constant in his life ever since he found someone wittier than him. But rather than being put off by it, James had only enjoyed the bantering, the clever remarks, until he found himself engaging in discussions with that funny quiet soldier only to see what he would say.

Evans was on duty guard tonight, though, which meant that James was left watching Sirius using the mirror of the captain’s tent to shave his face, already missing their morning runs at sunrise and their conversations during and afterwards. They would be marching tomorrow morning, their unity finally convoked to fight, and though this was all James had waited for in the last weeks, training his soldiers dutifully, he couldn't help but think he would miss soldier Evans' face in the morning, burning with the heat of their run, his green eyes shining both for the exercise as well as for the discussion of whatever subject they would come up with, sometimes letting out that laugh that seemed to entrance James beyond words…

He sighs again.

‘See! You keep doing it!’, Sirius shakes his head. ‘It’s unnerving’.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because it looks like you are in love with someone’. James blinks and, when his eyes meet Sirius’ in the reflection of the mirror, Sirius stops shaving, looking at him with his eyebrows raised. ‘Oh my, you are, aren’t you?’

Sirius gives one of his bark laughs, the kind that seems to echo in the room, a loud bell in the middle of their camping telling people to come to laugh at their captain.

No one comes, of course.

‘How did you manage to find a gal in the middle of nowhere?’, Sirius asks, sounding marvelled. ‘Is it one of those girls we met during the training in the farmer fields?’

‘There were girls?’, James asks, surprised. During that training, he had practised stealth with Evans, teaching him how to use the shadows in his favour, hiding behind the orchard trees, walking silently, until Evans had managed to sneak out behind him, his hand covering his neck as if it were a knife.

James remembers feeling the warmth of his hand and shivers starting at the place he was touching him, gulping suddenly nervous. There were no girls in his memory for that day.

‘No, then? I thought you had come back flustered… Well, how was it then?’

‘No girl, I…’, James stops, unsure, but he can trust Sirius and in any case, Sirius couldn’t exactly judge him for it, not when James had to cover for him multiple times with Remus. ‘I’ve got to ask you something and you can’t laugh’.

‘Can’t promise that’, Sirius answers easily without hesitating. ‘If I don’t laugh you may think I am taking it too seriously. It would damage my reputation’.

‘Your reputation is already bad ’.

‘Fair enough. I may not laugh, it actually depends on how much silly you are going to —’

‘How did you know you like boys?’

Sirius blinks, and to James’ relief, he doesn’t laugh; instead, he looks just confused.

‘I don’t know, I always did’. He stares at James, frowning. ‘Where is this coming from? You are not gay , James’.

‘I — I am not sure, I mean’, he ruffles his hair nervously. ‘I never thought I did, I mean, all these years growing up in the army and there was no attraction, really, but then —’

‘Then?’

‘I can’t stop thinking about him ’, James whispers, the words leaving his lips at least. ‘I miss him when he is not around, and his eyes, those gorgeous green eyes haunt my every dream and I have these urges —’

‘Green eyes? Are you talking about Evans?’. James flushes, and it's all the answer that Sirius needs. He shrugs. ‘Decent fellow. Not my type, but nice butt, I guess. Those eyes are really gorgeous’.

‘That is it?’

‘Why is there more to say?’

‘Well, sorry for freaking out because I happen to like guys’.

Sirius grins. ‘Come here, help me finish this’.

James rolls his eyes, not seeing the point, but he gets closer, taking the razor out of Sirius’ hand and neatly finishing to shave his beard.

‘So, what do you think?’, Sirius asks, arching one eyebrow the way he does to Remus when he wants something. James shrugs. 

‘What is there to think?’

But Sirius sighs dramatically. ‘See? You can’t be gay, you feel no attraction to me’.

‘Since when fancying you is a requirement?'

'Duh, I am attractive'. Sirius watches him thoughtfully. 'Perhaps you are just attracted to women and one man in particular. It happens'.

'Never happened to me before'.

'Well, first time to everything. Good for you James!'

'It doesn't feel good, I mean, I feel nervous all the time. How does this works? How do you know if they are attracted to you as well? How did you know about Remus?'

Sirius smirks. 'Do you see how Remus looks at me? It was obvious, I just had to wait until he realized it too'.

'A look? That's all?'

'Yeah, well, it's not like people walk around with a tag showing their sexuality. Might be easier, but -'

'Sirius?'

'Oh, yeah, right. Well, make a move'.

'I can't just go to him and try something!'

'Why not? You would if it were a woman'.

James blinks. Sirius' argument sounds reasonable, but he would also be extremely nervous if Evans was a woman too; all the uncertainty if he feels the same, if James isn't the only one who noticed the sparks, the lingering touches, the looks when no one else seems to be noticing…

'Try tonight', Sirius advises calmly. 'We will march tomorrow. So you can even use the "this could be our last night" line. Works wonderfully'.

'I don't want just one last night '.

'James', Sirius looks at him as if he believes he is a lost cause, which James feels isn't that wrong from reality. 'If it works, you two will surely have other nights'.

'And if it doesn't work?'

'Oh, well', Sirius grimaces. 'Then it's good we will be marching to war tomorrow, right?'

Last night .

Sirius' words stay with him, sounding ominous, and James tries to reason that his best friend is just being exaggerated. Sure, it's war , but that doesn't mean it's his only and last chance of sharing his feelings with the young soldier who has been present in every dream he has lately.

Still, he isn't surprised when his seemingly wandering takes him to the place Liam Evans is standing on a vigil for the night, his eyes scanning the darkness in front of him watchfully.

He turns at the sound of his steps, his hand already on the uphill of his sword, and James has a moment of pure satisfaction upon seeing how much Evans has improved since the first time he saw him, how good his reflexes are.

'Oh, Captain, it's you', he says, visibly relaxing upon recognizing him, his voice teasing. Evans only calls him captain as a joke these days.

He always shivers when he hears his name on his lips; they are far away from those days he insisted on treating James too formally.

'At ease, Evans', he replies, voice light too, as if Evans wasn't already at ease. 'How is your patrol?'

'Boring, actually. The most eventful thing that happened was a squirrel'.

'Ugh, they can be dangerous'.

'I threaten him with my bow', Evans says playfully, patting the bow on his back, and James remembers suddenly when he was teaching him how to shot, how he had stood behind Evans correcting his posture and thinking he smelled really nice; he had relived that moment on his dreams too, only Evans had turned to him, and then they were kissing and - 'But he got away. Smart squirrel'.

'You are mean, Evans', he says, forcing his voice to not sound as if he was staring at his lips and wondering if they were as soft as in his dreams. 'Let the poor squirrel have a nice walk. It's a beautiful night'.

'Yes, isn't it?', he agrees, looking up to the sky, and James takes a moment to watch Evans' face, the amazement shining there as he faces the sky. His features are delicate, small nose and cheeks that are always pink, and once more that longing for him burns in James' chest. No one - woman or man - has ever made him feel like that. 'It's too peaceful, it doesn't even look like tomorrow…'

His voice drifts away. James takes a step closer, telling himself it's no big deal. He is just trying to offer him some comfort.

'It's okay to be nervous'.

'I know', Evans says, turning to him, his green eyes shining even in the dim light. 'I am actually… I mean, this is what we've been training for, right? I am just nervous that it's finally here. Tomorrow we will be really marching. To a battle'.

'You are ready', he tells her, but then an uneasiness hits him. So many things can go wrong in a split second, and the mere idea of Evans' eyes staring at him without this spark of life is just too unbearing. 'Just don't let your guard down. And I - I will protect you'.

'And I will have your back', Evans assures him, undeniable fondness on his eyes and James takes another step, unable to resist it. 'You are a great captain. I trust you will all my heart, James'.

It's the way he says it, without any doubt, with so much trust, that breaks through James' hesitation. He sees the way Evans is looking at him, a gleam that doesn't seem exclusively friendly, and he wonders if this is the look that Sirius mentioned.

Well, there is only one way of finding out.

'This could be our last night', he says, and Evans' eyes widen. James feels a sudden panic; this was supposed to be encouraging, not the opposite. 'I mean, I don't think it will be, we have everything under control, I just mean… if it were our last night, what would you want to do?'

That makes Evans blink, but he doesn't look afraid anymore, just thoughtful. He licks his lips, and James' eyes are drawn to that movement, his heart running on his chest faster than when they are on their morning run. It's almost painful, but also makes him not want to give up.

'I would like to be brave', Evans whispers at least, looking at him as if he wanted James to read his mind. 'To do something I've been wanting to do for a long time, but I don't know if you - if people would understand it'.

'I…', James takes a deep breath. 'I think I would'.

'Really?', Evans looks at him desperately. He is trembling, and James wants to hold him in his arms. 'You would not be mad?'

'How could I?', he whispers, and then it's Evans that is breathing hard, his face becoming resolute.

'James, I -'

'No, Evans, it's fine', he interrupts him, and then he takes the final step closer, the one that crosses any friendly barrier and speaks clearly of his intentions.

Evans blinks, more surprised than he'd thought so, but he doesn't move, his head raising just slightly and his gaze falling into James' lips for a second before meeting his eyes again; James can't help but grin now, hopeful, because that was a signal, right? So he lowers his head just a little too, their noses touching, and he swears that Evans' eyes are fluttering, almost closed now, and James wants to sing.

After he kisses him.

'Liam', he whispers, and then their lips are brushing and -

And then there is nothing, because Evans takes a step back, his eyes widened now, looking more scared than James had ever seen him.

But his scare is nothing like the panic that James feels right now.

'Sorry', he cries, dejected, hating himself for reading this all wrongly. 'I - I crossed a line, I am really sorry, soldier Evans'.

'Soldier?', he repeats, his voice weak, and James realizes he never called him that. Perhaps he should. Perhaps then he wouldn't be so brazen in his stupid feelings.

'I beg you to forget this, Evans. I am truly sorry'.

'But I…', he is at a loss for words and James hates to be the reason for it. Evans is looking at him with the most confused expression he has ever seen on his face. 'If anyone is sorry it's me, Ja-James'.

He still loves to hear him speaking his name, but this time it brings a wave of pain also. James had always dreamed too big; he should never have thought that Evans could return his feelings, that he could speak his name with anything but the sort of friendship they had developed in the past weeks.

'You have done nothing wrong', he says automatically. That seems to only fluster Evans more.

'I have, I - it's my fault -'

'No, it's not. I am the captain, I should have known better'.

'James - if you just let me explain -:

He hates how Evans is looking at him sorrowfully, almost pityingly. 'There is nothing to explain. I beg your forgiveness again and… it won't ever happen again, I promise. I will keep my distance'.

There is a pain in his eyes now, and Evans opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words come out. James doesn't fault him; he just put themselves in the most awkward position.

At least, as Sirius noted, there will be a battle soon to distract them.

'Good night, Evans'.

'I… I am really sorry, James', he whispers, his green eyes now burning sadly and full of guilt James cannot understand.

He walks away without looking back.

Chapter Text

The world explodes in water around her.

It should feel good, it should bring some relief, because until then the world was scorching, high flames of the fires all around, consuming the air and leaving them to be burned alive. But the water seems as determined as the fire to prevent her from breathing.

She tries to swim, moving her arms and legs, but the strength of the current is too powerful; she has just broken a dam after all. If she could, she would be laughing hysterically at her brilliant stupid idea.

Lily just exploded a dam over a hundred enemy soldiers — Death Eaters, they call themselves — and their leader, but also over herself and her comrades; the soldiers from her unity that she has begun to call friends .

She hopes her hurried warning for them to seek cover was enough before she took off with the last explosive, carefully and precisely aiming for the dam, but all Lily can do now is hope.

She breaches the surface of the river, filling her lungs desperately with air before another wave sends her deep down again; her will to survive is strong, though, stronger than the water, so she forces her exhausted arms again, and once more she manages to let her head above the water. This time, Lily can hold herself into one debris of the dam; it cuts her arms, but she holds, desperate for anything that can help her stay afloat until she can reach the river bank.

All she wants to do is to close her eyes for a moment, just rest — she knew that fighting battles, being in a war, was no fun, but no training has really made her ready for the confusion and blood and death that war brings... And she is alone now, hoping with all her heart that no one on her side was hurt because of her crazy idea —

And that’s when she sees it, a body being pushed to the river bank, the black cloak blazoned with the golden phoenix wavering in the water. She can’t see his face, but she would recognize that messy black hair at any time.

She jumps into the water, swimming desperately in his direction, all tiredness forgotten. Not James, please not him .

She cries his name as she gets off the water, but he doesn’t answer her. Lily pushes James out of the water, and his face is pale, unmoving, unbreathing, and this is the most horrifying thing she has seen all day. James is too energetic to be this still; she thinks of all their morning runs, how he would break the silence not to upset her, but because it was obvious that he needed to fill the silence with words.

There were a lot of empty spaces around her that James started to fill slowly until she couldn’t see anything but him. She hadn’t expected to feel any of this when she joined the army, and especially not for someone that was her captain and even less someone that believed she was a man .

But none of this matter, because Capt. James Potter is not breathing and Lily is in panic. 

‘Wake up, James, wake up’, she pleads, but, of course, he doesn’t attend to her wish. This is not how this works. ‘Think, Lily!'

She forces herself to breathe, but it doesn’t help much. Her hands are trembling, not at all because of the coldness of the river when she lays him on the ground and starts the massage on his chest. One, two, three , all the way up to thirty, how James himself taught her to do weeks ago. She had trained on a puppet under his watchful eyes, shivering when his hands touched hers to correct her posture, never thinking she would have to do this on him.

Then she tilts his head back, using one hand to pinch his nose and the other to hold his mouth open; she takes a breath, then places her mouth over his, blowing the air inside his mouth. His chest moves just the slightest.

Please, James, wake up , she thinks urgently, moving again to his chest; she is in the middle of the compression when his body convulses, and then he is coughing water, and Lily has never seen a better sight.

She helps him sit, still dripping water, and she can’t help herself; she throws her arms around his neck, pulling him against her, hearing his raspy breathing and feeling his heart against her chest; still weak, but undeniably alive .

‘You are fine, you are fine’, she repeats in a trance, relief flooding her, and just like the moment she first broke the surface of the water, she feels she can finally breathe again. ‘You scared me, James’.

‘Sorry’, he says, still coughing, and Lily laughs suddenly. Here he is, barely alive after nearly drowning, and being sorry for it.

She breaks apart just enough to stare at him, marvelling at the fact that he survived after all. James takes a few seconds to focus on her face; she sees the exact moment he really recognizes her when his hazel eyes sparkle with something more than life itself. It’s the same look he had right two nights before when he almost kissed her.

Lily remembers wanting for that kiss with everything inside her burning for it, for the taste of him, for him . She had been ready to tell him the truth, to trust him with her most important secret, but then James had moved and there was no question about the fact that he wanted her too, that those feelings she had been nurturing for him were not one-sided, and this was not something she had anticipated. He had looked at her so tenderly that for one moment everything else had dimmed in comparison with the way her heart was beating too quickly, with how entranced she was for him.

And then he’d called her Liam.

She couldn’t kiss James when he wouldn’t be kissing Lily Evans. It was not fair.

It still isn’t fair, but she stays quiet, unable to drift away, as he raises his hand to touch her neck, holding her face. She needs to tell him the truth, but it feels complicated and not really important as he stares into her eyes because he is looking at her, isn’t it? Does it really matter if he doesn’t know she’s been lying? 

‘You saved my life’, whispers James, watching her longingly, but he doesn’t move, and Lily knows why. He was the one to take the leap of faith two nights ago and he is taking another now, but she needs to take one too to reach him in the middle ground.

Two nights ago Lily hesitated. But now the fear of losing him is still too close on the surface, so it’s easy not to worry, it’s easy to just dive into her feelings and move her head closer to him in search of his lips —

There is a jump in the water and they break apart, in time for seeing a masked man leaving the river; his cloak is glued around him and, with the mask, they can’t see his face, but his intention is clear as he raises a dagger, moving straight in the direction of James, whose captain uniform is evident in the sunlight.

James’ hand moves to his sword, but Lily knows it will be too late; he is still weak from almost drowning, and she can’t let anything happen to him. I will have your back , she promised him and she won’t fail him. Not him .

So as the dagger is thrown, she pushes James from harm’s way with all her might. Then her gaze drops, with the most curious detachment, to her limbs, where she can see the handle of the dagger, barely feeling it buried into the side of her body.

The world explodes around her in darkness now.

Lily dreams of memories for so long that at some point she wonders if death means just reviving moments of her life.

The memories feel nice, like watching her life from above. Her and Petunia running freely in the flower fields before they had to flee with their parents, their innocence gone as they saw neighbours and friends dying in the Death Eater attack. The flag with that emerald snake skull waving in the place where she once lived. Her forgery of her father’s letter to join the army. The first time she saw Captain James Potter, a devilish grin on his face that she’d hated at first because he didn’t seem to take this seriously.

Then glimpses of her training, of the ache she’d feel at first because her body wasn’t used to any of that; others felt the same, but Lily admonished herself still, urged her force of will to be enough, trained harder because she needed to prove to everyone that she deserved to be a soldier too.

She had proved herself on the one battle they had fought; she sees how she stood her ground, fighting back those masked enemies until they started throwing explosives around the battlefield, not caring who they would hit, in an attempt to burn alive that Order unity that stood between them and their final destination. It would have been the end, but Lily had taken the last explosive her side had and had aimed for the dam. It was one crack that didn’t seem very deep, but she had calculated to hit one of the weakest points of the dam — and then the water had flown freely, drowning the enemies and herself — and James, but that she had miscalculated. He should have been safe...

And then there is James, whose grins became less annoying and more cherished as time passed by; how the despise she had felt at first was replaced by the warmth when he’d compliment her efforts, when he’d touch her shoulder friendly, when he’d correct her mistakes without any condescension, when he’d walk with her on her night patrols, talking to her, listening to her.

She had been annoyed, then surprised, attracted and, finally, in love with her captain.

It takes only a near-death experience for her to realize this, and Lily is almost giggling with the pure absurdity of it all when she opens her eyes, trying to understand her surroundings. The world around her is cold and when she moves, her whole body complains, and a wave of pain welcomes her. She tries to sit, to look at her sides and see the damage that the dagger did, but a hand stops her.

‘Don’t move’, she hears a voice ordering, and she turns her head to find James sitting next to her. He looks awful; his face is as pale as when she found him drowned, his hair messy as if he has not stopped running his hair through it for days, and there are dark spots under his eyes which watch her with an unreadable expression. The glee she had felt upon waking up is vanishing quickly, replaced by a sinking sensation on her stomach that has nothing to do with her injury. ‘The doctor said you can’t overwork’.

‘I am fine’, she says stubbornly, forcing herself to sit as much as she can, so she doesn’t have to talk to him while laying in that makeshift bed. The blanket covering her body falls, and Lily gasps when the cold hit her, and then all the air leaves her lungs when she sees what she is wearing.

Or not wearing. Her entire torso is covered with bandages, which is as useless to protect her from the cold as it is to disguise the fact that she is not a man at all.

‘Here’, James says brusquely, not looking at her, throwing her his captain cloak. Lily puts it around her shoulders, but thick as it is, it does nothing to stop her from trembling; she doubts she will ever feel warm again.

‘James’, she calls him, her voice soft and unstable. He shivers upon hearing her call, but he still refuses to look in her direction; his face is rigid, as cold as the air in the tent. ‘I — I can explain’.

He lets out a humourless laugh that is nothing like the chuckles they shared talking about their families or about the pranks that James played on his friends.

‘Oh, I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation, Evans’. He turns to her, his eyes narrowed, full of mistrust. ‘Is it even Evans?’

‘Y-yes’. She swallows. ‘Lily Evans’.

‘Lily’, he repeats dryly, and she thinks this is all wrong. That’s not how James should be saying her name for the first time. ‘That explains why you never answered when someone called you Liam’.

‘Liam is my father’, whispers Lily. ‘He —’

‘Does he even know what you did?’

‘No, I… I couldn’t tell him’.

‘So he is just another person you’ve deceived?’

‘Not deceived , this is not —’

‘Well, I have to give it to you. This was the most magnificent prank ever. Made a lot of people look like the biggest fools ever’.

Lily feels more unable to reach the surface now than when she was under the river, fighting her way up, and yet she can’t stop moving. If she gives up, then she will be lost.

‘This was not a prank , I didn’t want to deceive anyone, I didn’t want to deceive you —’

‘You could have fooled me’, he said coldly. ‘Well, you did, perfectly, in fact’.

‘No, James, hear me ’, she rises, and darkness threatens to overwhelm her immediately as pain flares inside her; it dims in comparison with how terrified she is right now, so she takes a step towards him anyway. Her legs are trembling, and she swings, but before she can fall, his arms are around her, holding her, and James is so close she could lose herself in his eyes if they weren't so hollow.

For a moment she swears that time has stopped, the whole universe resumed to them, locked at that moment, standing in that tent, staring at each other; James’ eyes are moving over face and she knows he is taking all the details that he hadn’t noticed before.

Then he looks back at her, his hazel eyes boring into hers with an urgent need.

‘ Why , Evans?’, he asks, in a carried whisper, a desperate man asking for rescue when he is drowning helplessly.

‘There was no other choice’, she mumbles, and she knows this is the wrong answer by the way he takes a step back, his hands releasing her, looking so disappointed . ‘My father was summoned, but he was old and this was my fight too. I asked the local officer, and he laughed at me, said a girl could never serve in the army, and that was just so unfair , James, I am capable, any woman is as capable as any man, and yet you tell us to stay behind and just wait as if the war doesn’t affect us also —’

‘No’, he cuts her, shaking his head. ‘We’ve talked about this’.

Lily just blinks, unable to answer. James is right; during their many discussions in their morning runs, she once pointed out to him all the unfairness of women not being allowed to fight too for what they believe it’s right, and though James had seemed surprised as if that thought had never occurred to him before, he had agreed with her.

That was one of the few days she had gotten very close to spilling him her secret.

‘Why?’, he repeats. ‘Why didn’t you tell me ?’

‘I couldn’t’.

This is not exactly true and Lily knows it. There were plenty of moments in which she could have asked him for a private moment and revealed herself, asked his permission to stay, noting that she had shown herself to be as able as anyone else there, even better than some. But as time passed by, it just felt more awkward to reveal what she had been doing, as if she had lost her timing to be honest about it, as if the longer it took, the more… the more she knew James would be upset.

She hadn’t told him at first because he would not understand, and she hadn’t told him later because he would not forgive her.

‘Yes, you could’, he says, taking a deep breath and looking above her. ‘You just choose not to’.

There is no answer for that.

‘You are to be confined to this tent until the doctor says you are fine’.

‘And then?’

‘Then we will see’.

Her punishment , he doesn’t say, but she hears it in his voice anyway. And she knows what the penalty is for what she did. 

‘Yes, sir’, she answers formally, straightening her back even though her side screams in pain. She feels an urge to cry, to let despair take over, but she won’t do it in front of him. Until she stops breathing she is still a soldier, and as such Lily will keep her posture.

But there is a crack on her wall, very much like the crack on the dam that she started with her explosive, and Lily can’t help but whisper as he turns to leave: ‘James — Captain — I am sorry ’.

He turns to her one last time, and Lily remembers his hazel eyes looking at her with longing and adoration, how they got so close to something . Now James looks only troubled, defeated even when they’ve won a battle that is bound to finish the war.

‘I am sorry too’, he says, leaving her alone, and Lily’s world explodes in agony and regret.

A woman .

Evans is a woman.

When the doctor came whispering this news, his face baffled, James had laughed thinking this was one funny prank; maybe Evans had even partnered with Sirius for that one, and he was on his way to compliment them for the idea when the doctor told him he was being truthful.

Truthful . That was one word he couldn’t use to describe Evans anymore — if that was even her name, he’d thought sourly as he watched her face on his quiet vigil by her side, waiting for her to wake up. She had to wake up; she couldn’t die taking a stupid dagger that was aimed at him, and she couldn’t die before talking to him .

He spent a full day by her side, waiting, wondering what had made her do it, and most of all, why had she not told him. Didn’t she trust him? But she had said she did…  Or perhaps she had enjoyed deceiving him, had laughed at how stupid he was, had played with his feelings… Oh, was that what she was doing? Toying with him? James had let his feelings for her very clear and she… she had lied over and over. Had she enjoyed seeing him make a fool of himself?

He had no answer while she slept and no answer at all later. Evans — Lily Evans — couldn’t explain why she had lied to everyone — to him.

When he finally leaves her tent, all eyes move in his direction, though everyone is quiet. They know , he realizes, and he has a mind to admonish the doctor for telling, but what difference does it make? They would find anyway that James was playing the fool, that he was the captain who had been deceived by one of his alleged soldiers, and the humiliation snickers at him.

God, why he was so stupid? Why didn’t he see it?

He knows the answer. He trusted her. Evans introduced herself as Liam and he never bothered to question. And later, when he was drawn to her, when they got closer and he fell for her, then he’d just assumed that there was nothing unusual; he'd assumed she would tell him anything.

He wonders how long it will take until the soldiers start to talk about how obviously infatuated with her he was.

He enters his tent, longing to be alone or for a good bottle of firewhiskey — if only he had thought of allowing himself to travel with one —, but his wishes are not to be attended; seconds later Sirius enters the tent, smirking easily.

‘I told you you aren’t gay’.

‘Not now, Sirius’.

‘Oh, come on’. Sirius splashes himself in James’ bed, unaffected by his answer. ‘It’s not as bad as it seems. So Evans is a woman. Well, I’ve heard of weirder things’.

‘How bad do you think it is?’, James asks disbelievingly. ‘How bad do you think I’ll look — this entire unity will look — when they found out we couldn’t even notice we had a woman amongst us for weeks?’

‘She was smart enough to trick everyone. Hell, she was smart enough to throw a river on those Death Eaters! Why are we discussing this?’

‘Because there are rules. I’m more than willing to disregard a few of them, but some are above us. If she had a problem with not joining the army, she should have taken it to Dumbledore and not — not made me a bloody fool! ’

He is screaming, all reason gone, and Sirius rises, his face now tense.

‘James — you are overreacting, mate’.

‘No, I am not. She lied to me . She made me — I thought —’

‘What, you are mad at her because she made you question your sexuality?’, Sirius asks mockingly, crossing his arms.

‘This is not about it’.

‘Then what?’

‘She —’, James stops himself, collecting his thoughts. Everything inside him screams in pain and he wonders, not for the first time, why Evans didn’t simply let the dagger hit him. It would be far easier — but then James would still be in the dark, making a fool of himself… ‘Evans told me that he — that she trusted in me. With all her heart. And I believed in her’.

‘Well, she did. Does. Considering how you are overreacting now, no wonder she didn’t tell you before’.

‘I am overreacting because a doctor came to tell me the person I’m in love with is a woman pretending to be a man for weeks while she was lying on her deathbed!’

‘Just move on, James. She is still the person you are in love with’.

‘Move on?’, repeats James dryly. ‘Get out, Sirius’.

‘What?’

‘I told you to get out. It is an order soldier’, he adds, breathing hard, using a commanding voice he never used with Sirius before, and this becomes evident when Sirius looks offended.

'Fine. Keep brooding. It's not like she just saved your —'

But Sirius' retort is cut suddenly when the tent opens and Peter enters hurriedly.

'James!', he cries desperately. 'You need to come outside, Crouch is here and he is not seeing reason!'

'What?', James asks sobering up, alerted. Crouch is one of the officials of the Ministry, the most strict to rules he has ever met. 'How come?'

'I don't know, he must have come looking for us — he hurt Remus and he is going to kill her!'

'What?!', he cries now, running past Peter and leaving the tent.

Everyone is gathered outside and beyond his unity, James sees the small garrison that Crouch brought with him, three stern soldiers who stand rather menacingly as another drags Evans from the medical tent.

Her hair is loose, flowing freely in the wind like flames, and she holds her cloak — James' cloak — tightly around her as she is thrown in the ground, in the middle of the circle that has been formed.

She is trembling, from cold or fear he cannot tell, but she raises her head high, defiant, as she looks around the circle until her eyes fall on James. He looks away, finding a body falling on the ground near the medical tent, and he recognizes Remus even before Sirius cries in agony and rushes to his side.

That snaps James out of his stupor.

'Crouch!', he cries, glad to find someone he can argue with. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'I got news of treason in your unity, Captain Potter', Crouch says coldly. 'And I am here to attend the law'.

'This is my unity! What are you doing to my soldiers?'

Crouch scoffed, his gaze going from Evans to Remus, who Sirius holds in his arms. There is a nasty bruise on Remus' forehead.

'Your soldier ignored my orders. He tried to protect her '. He glances back at Evans, the disapproval even more palpable now. 'The traitor' .

Evans shudders upon hearing the word, but other than that she stands quiet on the ground, acting as if she can't even hear him.

'That's my problem, not yours', insists James.

'Your problem was being cared for by a military doctor'.

James takes a deep breath, his hand itching to just punch Crouch, as useless as it would be. 'She was hurt in battle and was treated as such'.

'A battle she had no reason to be part of in the first place! If this traitor knew her place at all —'

'The traitor has a name and it's Lily Evans', she interrupts him, her voice loud and firm, stubborn as always and James can’t stop the sudden surge of pride for her standing. 'Stop talking as if I am not here'.

'That is because you shouldn't be here, Lily Evans ', answers Crouch disdainfully before looking at James. 'You know the law. It’s unwise to lose time and energy healing her''

James blinks, coldness wrapping him, far more powerful than any other feeling he felt that day. He knows what Crouch means because there is only one law applicable to treason in the army.

But he doesn’t say anything because he cannot .

‘Captain?’, Crouch calls him.

‘You cannot — I will not let you execute her!’

The words leave his mouth roughly, more of a roar than anything, and it seems to echo even in the open space; even the wind seems to subdue as if nature itself is curious to see what’s going to unfold here. His voice seems to spark something in Evans too, because she moves, breaking her rigid stillness to gaze at him, and he can feel her need to understand him.

But James refuses to take his eyes out of Crouch, who, after a moment of uncertainty, nods with an amiable smile.

‘Of course’, he agrees, pulling his sword and before James can pull his in answer — he won’t let Crouch do anything to Evans —, Crouch is offering him his sword. ‘It is your prerogative’.

‘Mine?’

‘You are the captain of this unity. It is your right to execute the lives of any traitors under your authority. After all’, Crouch’s voice is low now, ‘you were the one she deceived’.

She sighs upon hearing this, and James turns to her, the sword that Crouch just gave him feeling heavy in his hand. It’s a two-handed sword, not his style and far too fancy to be used in a battle — because Crouch, as an official, does not go into battles. It’s an executioner’s sword.

Evans watches him calmly, her green eyes betraying no fear even though he can see she is breathing hard, her lips trembling just slightly, but she makes no move to fight him or Crouch. There is only acceptance in her eyes and James feels a sudden urge to shake her — defend yourself, he thinks desperately, urging her to read his mind. Give me a reason not to do this .

But she stays quiet, so damn stubborn as always, and he thinks that if she would say something, it would be to tell him she understands it. Lily Evans chose it — she knew the risks when she joined the army illicitly and she always agreed to sacrifice her life for what she believed in.

‘Aren’t you afraid?’, he’d ask her once, curious, at the end of their morning run. Evans had turned to him, quiet and obstinate, and James’ heart had skipped that beat that always happened when Evans was around.

‘Of what might happen? Yes. But I was even more scared of doing nothing’.

She just wanted to fight , he thinks. 

She could have told me , he thinks also.

He raises the sword and her eyes close in quiet acceptance, and James is taken back to that night, three days ago, when they had briefly kissed — her eyes had fluttered too, and now he understands that the problem was never the fact that he wanted to kiss her.

Perhaps she had hated to lie to him.

The sword feels so heavy.

‘James!’, Sirius calls him, indignant.

‘Do your duty, Captain’, tells Crouch and James thinks of his father telling him the same before he had marched away. His father had trusted him.

I trust you with all my heart, James.

I will protect you, James had promised Evans.

The sword falls, cutting the air and being planted on the ground with a deadly fatality.

‘Close camping now’, he orders, his voice lacking life but still leaving no place for questioning. ‘We will be marching in ten minutes. GO!’

His soldiers run to obey him, but Crouch stands still, watching him with apprehension. ‘Captain Potter? This is highly —’

‘Go take your complaints to Dumbledore or whoever cares to listen to you, Barty’, he growls. ‘This is my unity and I am the law here’.

‘But the traitor —’

‘I’ve dealt with it as I see fit’, James says, not looking at her, even though he feels her eyes over him. ‘Move out, Crouch, or I will make you’.

Crouch eyes him with disapproval all written over his face, but James refuses to step back until Crouch nods, relenting. People are running around them, hurrying to finish packing their things, but James doesn’t move and neither does Lily, still standing knelt on the ground. Now and then Remus and Sirius walk closely, throwing worried glances at them.

After several minutes, he pulls back the sword on the ground.

‘Captain?’, she asks at least. ‘James?’

He hates how hearing her speak his name still makes a thrill of excitement run through his body, how he still yearns for her even though everything has been nothing but a lie.

‘You are free to go, Evans’, he tells her, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice, even though it’s more anger for his weaknesses than for her at the moment. ‘Go back to your village’.

‘Yes, sir’, she answers quietly, always the perfect polite soldier. ‘May — may I ask you why ?’

Why is he not punishing her , she means. Why is he ignoring the law .

He looks at her and it’s dangerous, almost wrong, because with her eyes staring at him intensely, her need to understand him evident on her face, James almost speaks the truth.

Because I am still in love with you even after you broke my trust .

‘You saved my life, Evans. I am just repaying my debt. We are even now'. He stares at her one last time as if to make sure he won’t forget her face, though he knows it’s pointless. He doubts he could forget Lily Evans even if he wanted to. ‘Goodbye, Evans’.

Chapter Text

Lily shouldn’t be at Hogwarts.

But Lily has become really good in the last month at doing things she shouldn’t, especially when it feels like the right thing to do, as it happens now.

Hogwarts is celebrating, a feast happening on the grounds in front of the castle, and everybody is dancing, happy, certain that the war is over. But this is not the case and she knows it because she has seen a small group of Death Eaters, led by Lord Voldemort, gathering at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, crossing quietly in the direction of Hogwarts Castle. They survived the flood, they will attack the castle and she is the only one that knows it.

It should not be her problem; everyone told her so — James had made it clear that she didn’t belong in the army, that he never wanted to see her again. Lily should be on her way home right now.

But instead, she changed course, running to the most dangerous place for her at the moment and not only because of the Death Eaters. She knows that if the wrong person notices her,  she is doomed — traitor , they called her, though Lily never betrayed the Order.

She is lucky, though, because most of her unity — former unity — stand close to the huge front doors of the castle; they are to be honoured, she knows. On her way there, she has heard many praises for that noble unity who so courageously defeated the Death Eaters by the dam.

No one mentions her name. This should be good as if in some way her secret is still safe, but it just feels hollow as if the last weeks of her life meant nothing. As if Lily Evans has no place in this world.

She refuses to let this self-doubt temper her determination. She hides swiftly behind an old willow to avoid a few soldiers that she thinks might work for Crouch, and then lucky favours again: her gaze falls on Sirius, walking at the edge of the lake holding a few fireworks rockets in his hands.

‘Sirius!’, she cries happily as if she hasn’t seen him in weeks, running to him and ignoring the sharp pain on her side — she is far from healed. 

‘Evans?’, he answers, surprised, and for a moment he looks at her with amusement and the same tender friendship she has come to accept from him; Then his smile drops. ‘You can’t be here. Go away!’

Uneasiness wraps her and Lily stops, taking a deep breath. ‘I know I don’t belong here’, she says defiantly. ‘And I will go away, I just —’

‘I didn’t mean like that’, he interrupts her, expression softening, though he still looks conflicted as he steals a glance towards the castle and Lily knows who Sirius is considering. ‘It’s dangerous for you to be seen here’.

‘It’s dangerous to be here. Sirius — they are not all dead’.

‘What?’

‘Death Eaters. And Voldemort too. I’ve seen them, they crossed the Forbidden Forest towards here a few hours ago!’

‘They can’t have survived that, Evans’, he answers reasonably, and a part of Lily can’t help but think he would not question her if he still saw her as a soldier. ‘You and James barely did, and they were much closer to the dam. We did not find any trace of them for miles —’

‘I know what I saw!’, insists Lily. ‘Or do you think I fancy coming here when everyone makes it pretty clear I am unworthy?’

He hesitates, watching her uncertainly, and it comes to her mind that maybe Sirius is only doubting her now because he didn’t know she could lie so well.

‘I am telling you the truth, Sirius!’, she whispers, urging him to see the true desperation in her eyes. ‘You need to tell James — you need to tell everyone ’.

Another trope walks by. Lily takes a glance back and her stomach drops when she recognizes Crouch; he is distracted, talking to another official-looking man, but she can’t take chances. Sirius seems to agree with her because he nods and turns away while she jumps back to the shadows, hoping with all her might that they — that James — believe in her.

The moment the green firework explodes in the sky, James knows he should have listened to Sirius — to her . He doesn’t need to look up to know the emerald skull is sparkling in the night sky and he doesn’t need to hear the crowd's collective gasp to know something is wrong.

They are here . Voldemort is here .

Just like Evans tried to warn him and he ignored because he was feeling hurt and betrayed; now they will pay the price for his pride.

But he can’t let the despair take control; he runs, even as he knows it’s pointless, that he is too far away from the front doors of the castle where the Death Eaters just revealed themselves. It is easy for them — everyone here was distracted, laughing and drinking folly, certain that the war was over, so there is near to no defence as the masked enemies take Dumbledore and the Minister hostage, forcing them inside the castle and closing the gates.

He yells to his soldiers to find something that can work as a battering ram; they rush to accomplish his order, but James knows it won’t work… nothing ever broke inside the castle’s defences…

Then there he hears his name being called and James turns immediately, even before registering he shouldn’t respond to her anymore.

‘James!’, she calls again, sounding as if nothing ever changed, as if they are in one of their training exercises. Evans runs to him, pushing people out of her way, her face rushed just like she always looked after their morning run. ‘I know a way in!’

He stares at her, unable to say anything, and she halts before him. For a moment she looks troubled, sorrowful beyond words, then Evans blinks and there is only determination on her face.

‘There is a passage by the lake that leads straight to the kitchen’, she says and yet James keeps silent, not knowing how to answer.

Or if he should even listen to her.

‘Where?’, someone asks beside him, and he sees that Remus and Sirius have joined him.

Evans takes a full second before turning to them. ‘Near the docks, where the provisions come to supply the castle — the staff uses it’.

‘Are you sure?’, asks Remus.

‘I’ve met one of the maids — she talked to me, showed me the way’.

‘Then let’s go’, Sirius declares. He takes one step ahead before turning to James, one eyebrow lifted. ‘Captain?’

It is chaos all around James, even though no one is attacking him and there is no imminent threat to his life; the remains of the emerald skull are shining in the sky, people are screaming in fear and the clock is ticking, but he keeps his gaze fixed on Lily Evans’ face, trying to understand why she came back, why is she trying to take them to a mysterious secret passage, why she even cares.

And above all trying to decide if he can trust her at all. Like he did once.

‘James’, she calls him once again, and he hears in her voice the plea to believe in her. ‘I can fix this’.

He wonders what ‘this’ she is referring to. There are many things that need to be fixed.

And yet she will need to start it somewhere.

‘This is the last time, Evans’, he whispers, his voice as desperate as hers. This is the last time I’m trusting you .

A flash of pain crosses her eyes, but she nods.

‘That’s all I need’, she says, then she turns and they run after her.

It is the craziest plan Lily has ever heard of — or a prank, as Sirius insists to call it —, but it works .

They manage to attract the attention of each one of the six guards that Lord Voldemort has left in charge of the defence of the doors that lead to the North Tower, and then while she, Sirius and Remus keep them distracted, James manages to cross the doors.

Fighting someone always feels like one of the exercises she had with James and the other soldiers, only she can’t miss a step and the enemy doesn’t follow exactly a pattern. But just like in the training, she hears James’ voice in her head, giving her tips.

‘ You are smaller than most, but also quicker ’, he told her once, his hazel eyes evaluating her thoughtfully in a way that made her flush, avoiding his eyes. ‘ Use this in your favour ’.

Lily does. She dances around the enemies, flustering their attempts to hit her, ignoring the pain on her side.

‘ You might be hurt ’, James said too. ‘ But let your will to survive beat any weariness or pain. You can rest later ’. Later Lily thinks she will find one of the softest beds in this castle and drop fast asleep there; they can arrest her for it, it will be worth it.

And then she finds the breach she needs and her enemy is no more; she lost her sword, though, so she takes her dagger.

She turns to Sirius and Remus, still engaged in their fight; Sirius is laughing, crazily enjoying his duel, but he steals a glance at her.

‘Go!’, he cries.

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She runs to the tower, all her body screaming in pain as she climbs the steps to the highest tower of the castle, the place where Lord Voldemort chose to execute his plan for all the audience below. He wants a spectacle, and this is  evident when she finds more fireworks rockets there, and Dumbledore and the Minister tied to a wood stack, a huge snake rounding them. At the edge of the tower, on the other side, James and Voldemort are duelling.

Voldemort takes a moment to look at her, his reddish eyes taking in her figure before he turns his attention back to James. Of course. She knows what he saw. A girl holding a dagger that probably looks like a stick in her hand, a girl that has no business in the middle of this battle, in the middle of his victory.

Well, underestimating her is a mistake he will do only once.

She grabs her dagger, turning to the snake; at least the snake doesn’t seem to care whether she is a man or woman because the serpent hisses at her, slithering towards her, her body ready to attack.

‘ Swift as the coursing river ’, whispers James’ voice in her head, and Lily spins as the serpent charges, escaping the snake’s fangs; the snake turns, but it’s too late. With a swift movement of Lily’s hand, the snake’s head flies away and the body falls on the ground.

Lily moves quickly, cutting the ropes that tie the Minister and Dumbledore; they have a few bruises on them, but they will survive as long as Voldemort cannot reach them. She releases them just as Voldemort lets out a cry of anger, finally noticing what she is doing. He pushes James out of the way, knocking his head in one of the pillars of the tower, and James falls unconscious.

Somehow she notices everything that’s happening at the same time; Dumbledore and the Minister are leaving the tower, Voldemort is rushing after them and James is as unmoving as when he nearly drowned. Lily could follow the Minister and close the door from the inside, but this would mean leaving James alone and this is not a possibility.

I will have your back .

Lock it!’, she barks to Dumbledore, copying James’ best commanding voice, and closes the door, standing in front of it. Voldemort uses his sword to drop the dagger from her hand as if it’s a butter knife and throws her aside in the direction where James has fallen, but the time she got was enough. Voldemort pushes the wooden door with all his strength, but it’s locked and doesn’t budge.

He lets out an inhuman cry. Lily allows herself to grin satisfyingly, crawling towards James, shaking him. His eyes flutter open, focusing on her face.

This is the end, Lily knows it. They are locked in this tower with Voldemort and help will take too long to arrive; Voldemort is seconds away from turning to them, of finishing them, and a part of her thinks she should be using that time to plan something, to find a way, any distraction that may give them time enough for their friends to come.

But she uses those last seconds of peace to just look at James; there is the same understanding in his eyes, the same acceptance of this moment, and for the first time since he found out about her, he doesn’t seem upset or mad.

James looks at her as if she shines more than any firework that set off that night, as if she is brighter than the sun, as if he could stare for hours and would not be enough. As if he loves her.

His hand finds hers and Lily locks their fingers together.

‘You!’, Voldemort cries and Lily knows their time is up. She turns to him; his eyes are glinting red under the light of the torches of the tower. ‘You pathetic little girl! I’ve seen you before! Who are you?’

She breathes slowly ( ‘Always keep your focus, Evans, don’t let the enemy distract or bait you’) , takes James’ sword on the ground and rises, her posture straight as she trained for weeks. ‘I am Lily Evans and I am a soldier of the Order of the Phoenix ’ .

‘You are nothing ’, he cries, raising his longsword and charging at her.

Now, this is nothing like the training she got; this is well above her capacity, and Lily knows it. James raises too, taking his dagger and trying to hit Voldemort too, but he can duel them easily. This is hopeless, Lily thinks as she jumps back to avoid a hit. We won’t win by duelling him .

Which means that, just like she did on the dam, she will have to play smart.

If James wasn’t about to die, he would just stop to appreciate the beauty in the way Evans fights, her long red hair dancing around her as she spins to avoid Voldemort’s attacks, her expression forceful and absorbed.

Too absorbed. James recognizes that thoughtful look on her face; she is thinking about something else, and he used to reprimand her for losing sight of the fight, for letting her thoughts disperse, warning her to fight one battle at a time.

And, still, he is surprised when she is suddenly hit by Voldemort; he’d thought she was further, but Evans moved suddenly and then his sword slashes her unprotected arm. It doesn’t look too deep but it is enough for her to let the sword drop at James’ feet; then Evans does something that he doesn’t understand at all. She charges at Voldemort, weaponless, as if she hopes to knock him with the strength of her body.

Voldemort laughs mockingly, looking at her as if she is nothing but a child in an adult’s play and rather than letting his sword fall easily on her, he throws her in the direction of the woodpile where Dumbledore and the Minister were tied, breaking the formation. She lets out a painful moan, but James won’t complain. She is alive .

Voldemort concentrates on him now, and James fights back, grabbing the fallen sword and trying to keep his stand even as he feels his body tiring quickly. Maybe if he can stall this long enough help will come and at least Evans will live… That’s all he can hope for now…

From the corner of his eyes, he sees her moving. He doesn’t see what she is doing, but she takes one of the torches in the room, moaning again under the weight of it, and a second later she gives a warning cry.

‘James!’

Her voice is so desperate that for a moment both James and Voldemort stop to look at her and James has a fraction of a second to drop to the ground before the rocket on Evans’ hands explodes.

She is thrown back by the force of it nearly at the same time that the rocket hits Voldemort with careful precision, and then both he and the rocket are gone from the tower. James turns around in time to see the rocket exploding in green fireworks, the emerald skull not quite shaped this time, and then, under the green light, he realizes that it’s finally over .

‘It worked!’, he cries, disbelieving, rushing to Evans’ side. She is still fallen on the ground, ashes covering her body, but she doesn’t look burnt. ‘Evans, you are brilliant !’

He expects her to answer him, to let out a cry of joy — it's over, they are alive —, but Evans stays quiet, too quiet — she is never quiet, she always speaks her mind —, and his relief is replaced by the deepest fear he ever felt.

'Evans!', he calls, placing her head on his lap, his finger trembling over her neck, in search of the pulse. After a long second, he feels the soft beating. 'Wake up, Evans —'

Her lips tremble and very slowly her eyes open to bless him with the view of the green that first had impressed James in that quiet soldier he had tried so hard to befriend. James remembers getting close to her, rejoicing as she started to open up to him, her thoughts surprising and fascinating him. It had been both slow and too fast the way that James had felt attracted to that soldier, craving for her presence even when he didn’t understand what was happening, why she appeared so much in his dreams.

Until he understood what he was feeling for Evans and not once James had thought of fighting it. A lifetime in the army had taught him that some battles just can't be won.

She smiles at him tenderly, seeming to praise the fact that he is alive too; his hand caresses her face, cleaning the ashes there, rejoicing in the warmth of her skin.

‘You fight well’, he tells her quietly.

In answer, Evans laughs. Loudly, wildly and captivating in a way that James finds himself laughing too even if he isn’t sure of the reason. Her laugh is cut when she touches her side, holding the place she was hurt saving him.

‘Take it easy’, James tells her, combing her hair softly; it is very different from the style she kept while in the army, always neatly tied into a bun. ‘What is so funny?’

‘We are alive and the first thing you tell me is that I fight well' .

James has to grin, acknowledging the absurdity of the situation. ‘What else could I say? You are truly amazing’. His hand stops and James looks at her soberer now. ‘But… please, don’t ever do that to me again’.

She sighs, her smile vanishing too.

‘I am really sorry, James. I know I’ve said this a lot, but I felt I had no choice and I just didn’t want — I couldn’t risk you hating me —’

‘Evans’, he calls her, urging her to understand him. Somehow her deception lost weight with everything that happened tonight; she came back because she is a soldier of the Order, and James cannot fault her for this. He was always a soldier too. ‘I meant about you scaring me into thinking you had died. That’s what I was hoping you would never do again’.

‘You first then’, she replies almost teasingly, the tension on her face easing with his words. He cups her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

‘I’ll do my best’, he promises. ‘And about that part you feared I would hate you — that was the problem, Evans. I would never hate you'.

'Lily', she whispers. 'Call me Lily'.

'Lily', he repeats, and he likes the sound of her name. 'Lily…'

Then he lowers his head, his lips finally finding hers, and through his closed eyelids James sees fireworks, red and green and so bright.

They jump apart when the door opens violently; Sirius and Peter storm in the tower, yelling, their swords ready, and Lily can't help it. She laughs, and James joins her, his arms still around her as they face their friends ready for a battle that is already over.

But the laugh dies when she sees who followed them to the tower; the Minister and Dumbledore appear, their faces grave as they look around. James helps her to stand up, his hand touching her back protectively.

'So you are the woman that caused all the trouble I've heard about', the Minister says, no emotion evident on his face.

'Forged her entrance into the army', Dumbledore recites, his eyes twinkling. 'Deceived her unity for weeks. Turned the battle at the dam into our favour. Found a way inside the castle'.

'And defeated Voldemort', James says, his voice urgent. 'She was the one who did it!'

'Stand aside, Capt. Potter', the Minister says bored, but James doesn't move. Lily steals a glance at him; his jaw is set, stubborn and determined, and she wants to argue with him.

Didn't you just promise you wouldn't die?

She holds his arm, shaking her head as imperceptibly as she can, and takes a step forward.

'My name is Lily Evans, Minister’, she says, bowing. 'And I take full and sole responsibility for all my actions'.

'As you should', agrees the Minister. He looks at Dumbledore. 'Do you —'

'I will handle this, Gellert'.

'Thank you, Albus'.

The Minister leaves. Lily keeps her head politely lowered, waiting once more for her punishment, though it's very different from the other time. Now her friends are by her side, and she doesn't feel alone; Lily is not ashamed or regretting anything.

She proved that she could fight and if she must die for it, then she is at peace.

But Dumbledore is watching her with amusement, not disapproval. 'You caused an uproar, Miss Evans. I trust you are familiar with the centuries-old law that forbids women from joining the army?’

‘I do, Professor Dumbledore’.

‘And you know that breaking this law is passive of capital punishment?’

Lily sighs; James moves by her side, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword as if he is considering taking his sword to defend her, and she throws him a quick warning glance. He looks concerned, but drops his hand.

‘Yes, Professor’.

‘Which only shows how some laws are incredibly outdated’, replies Dumbledore genially, bowing to her. ‘The Minister and everyone else is grateful for your help, Miss Evans. If you do not mind, I’d like to escort you to our Hospital Wing. We have a lot to discuss while you recover from your injuries’.

Dumbledore looks pointedly at her arm, where the last cut from Voldemort’s sword is still bleeding, though with everything that happened afterwards, Lily barely noticed it.

‘I — yes, of course’. She turns to James, whose expression is more relaxed now. ‘See you later?’

James grins — that carefree charming grin that shines on his lips ever since the first time she met him, the one that first annoyed her then became just too irresistible —, raising his hand enough to hold hers for a moment. ‘I’ll wait for you’.

It’s only the next morning that James meets Lily again. She spent hours talking with Dumbledore while James was doing anything that he could to feel useful; Sirius and Remus invited him later to some well-deserved drinking celebration, but James skipped that.

Lily was fast asleep when he found her in the Hospital Wing. James stood still for a moment, watching her serene sleeping face, very different from the other time he had stood vigil for her after her injury; now she was fine, just resting, and he didn’t feel conflicted about her at all.

He knew exactly what he felt for her.

And he still does when he meets her in front of the Great Hall of the castle; she looks much better in the morning light, her face pinkly healthy, her injuries properly bandaged. Someone found her new clothes too — a dress uniform that seems to belong to a newly graduated recruit, made for a ceremony and not for battle, but James remembers the war is over. The uniform looks beautifully exquisite on her.

She smiles at him when he gets closer, her arms behind her back in a formal position.

‘Hi’, she greets him, almost shy, and he doesn’t fault her for it. It feels different to be facing her in the morning, all secrets in the open, no war threatening their lives or throwing them together in their quest to survive.

But it’s a good difference as far as James is concerned.

‘Hello’, he says, everything on his body itching to hold her, to kiss her again. ‘You look well’.

‘A night under painkillers does wonders. Also… not getting executed improved my health a lot’, she whispers, almost in a conspiratorial voice, eyes glistening with the tease he came to admire in her.

‘No one would dare to execute a hero ’, replies James in the same voice. ‘People are toasting your name’.

She blinks, surprised. ‘You are joking’. She throws a look at the Great Hall; there are only a few people around, enjoying their breakfast. ‘See? No toast’.

‘It’s morning , Evans, only Sirius would be drinking this early — if he wasn’t already passed out in one of the rooms here. He partied all night — thanks to you, by the way’.

A blush comes to her face. ‘It was a team effort’, she declares, taking an almost distracted step closer to him. ‘We do make a very good team, don’t we?’

‘Hmmm’, James agrees, enjoying her proximity. He stares at the freckles on her face, the shades of green in her eyes and his gaze drops to her lips for a brief second; when he finds her eyes again, she winks approvingly. ‘I am a very good captain, you know’.

‘Not humble, though’.

‘I have some faults’, he whispers, unashamed. ‘And I thought I should warn you this time — I am about to kiss you, soldier Evans’.

She laughs, a free crystal clear laugh.

‘Captain’, she corrects him, pointing to a medal in her chest that James hadn’t noticed before. ‘There will be an event later, but I was promoted to Captain’.

‘Captain Lily Evans’, he repeats, savouring the words; he places his hands around her waist, bringing her closer. ‘It has a nice ring to it’.

‘I know, right?’, she agrees, beaming, and then their lips meet, starving and elated, and James decides they can discuss military ranks later, much later.