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It was the strangest thing when the portrait door closed. As if Lily could not feel it, hear it, or see it. Only aware that she could. Like she was on the outside, observing herself close the door, watching as it swung with the momentum of a guillotine before it finally clicked shut like a chest. Or a casket.
A funeral, it felt like. A funeral for a friendship. Lily Evans knew that feeling all too well.
She remembered being eleven on Platform Nine and Three-quarters. She remembered the ominous chill that had swept over her when her sister had pulled away. What the endless ringing in her ear meant when Tuney had called her a freak. How Lily's eyes had pulled slightly at its edges while her heart disintegrated with the relationship she had cherished. A hole had appeared in her world then, one too wide and too deep to fill, and now, four years later, another had appeared. Only this time, she had not cried. Not like she had when Petunia had closed herself off from her.
What Lily felt was numb.
Very vaguely, when she frowned and listened hard enough, she could feel something within wanting to cry, to scream and to hit. A little girl, bright-eyed and hopelessly naive, despite a blackness threatening to engulf her. Tears cascaded from her eyes as she banged on an invisible wall, silent pleas dulled by an unfathomable distance and failing to reach Lily. On some level, Lily understood what was being said.
Turn around. Go back. Don't let it end like this.
Lily could only smile at her, at the her of yesteryear. A sad, apologetic, and despairing smile. She admired that girl's hope, her belief, her love, and more than anything, she longed to have that once more. But a crack had formed, nigh unfixable. Broken was she, and a hole had appeared. So with the greatest respect, Lily watched wordlessly and unflinchingly as the darkness enveloped the little girl.
***
"Was that Snape?"
Lily did not need to look up to see whose voice it belonged to. He had an uncanny knack for appearing at these sorts of inopportune times. She knew perfectly well that he knew who it was. Her only surprise, mild at as was given the circumstances, was that he'd bothered to use Sev's actual name. Snape's actual name.
A litany of choices came and went through Lily's mind as she searched for the quickest way to be rid of James Potter. A change in subject, a snarky comment, a wordless reply. Many of them clever, most of them scathing. But all Lily could do was breathe a tired breath and let her shoulders sag. She'd had enough of stupid boys and their stupid fat heads.
"Yeah, it was." She said, then made for the girl's dormitories.
Confusion etched its way onto Potter's face, and he took an impromptu half-step forward, feet stuttering with his mouth.
"I– I can get him to leave for you." Potter said, then frowned. "Polite... politely? Amicably?" At least he was aware of how ridiculous the suggestion was. "I can get Moony– Remus, I mean– to get him to leave."
"Do what you want, Potter." Lily said as she reached the stairs. "I'm not interested."
"Evans, wait." Potter said. Something in his voice made her stop. Underneath the usual pompousness, there was genuine sincerity and... and a touch of regret? Her pause was enough for him to take a few brave steps towards her.
"Look, I uh– I've been thinking about today– I know, I know– incredible, right? I've been thinking about today and, erm– I know it's not worth much but..." Potter took a deep breath and sighed. His eyes had been darting in every direction except Lily's, as if the snitch he'd been playing with earlier in the day was fluttering about in the common room.
"I'm sorry." Potter finished. If it weren't for how tired she was, Lily might have rolled her eyes. Another worthless apology from another worthless boy. But this one didn't have the years of friendship behind it to warrant a response. There was no little girl fighting in Potter's corner. Lily turned back towards the stairs, prompting Potter to reach out a hand in protest.
"I didn't– I didn't take it any further!" He said. His eyes had resumed their darting about. "I was going to but– but something in the way you walked away gave me second thoughts and– and I don't know. It wasn't in me anymore."
It clearly wasn't going how Potter thought it would. Was he expecting praise? But Lily had again paused enough for him to think to continue.
"I meant what I said earlier." Said Potter. "I mean– about wanting you to go out with me." Before she could even think about it, Lily's eyes turned sharply at him.
"I know!" He quickly said. "I know there isn't a Gringott's chance right now. Especially after today. Not that there ever was." He added with a mirthless laugh. A hand raised up, not in the usual manner, to scratch the back of his head. He looked... uncertain? Lily's sharp eyes blinked into suspicion. Had there ever been a point in history where James Potter had been unsure of himself? Had it not been for the sincerity she heard earlier, Lily would've thought it an act.
"But like I said." Potter continued after he was sure she was listening. "I thought about it– and I've been thinking and I– I wanted to tell you that things will change. I'll change. I'll fix some things, and I'll work on being a better person. The kind of person you– a kinder person." He frowned slightly when he finished. At himself, Lily guessed, but she had an idea of what he had really wanted to say and was relieved at the amendment.
Silence filled the room, and Potter stood nervously as he awaited a response. Lily let it draw out a bit longer, choosing to regard him from head to toe in the meantime. The sincerity was still there, more on display, in fact, and there was an earnestness in the way he held himself. On a good day it might have worked. But today, Lily was in mourning. She had a lost a friend, she had lost a part of herself, and the boy before her, while not entirely to blame, had played his part. And now, that mourning was turning into ire. What exactly did he expect from her?
"Potter, what is it that you actually like about me?" Lily finally said. Potter's head jerked in confusion. He opened his mouth to answer, but Lily interrupted him.
"Do you even remember when you first started fancying me? Do you? I know it's been for a while, but can you actually recall when it began?"
Lily took a purposeful step towards him, and he stepped back in surprise, stammering.
"I– I– I mean, yeah , I–"
"Do you even remember when we first met? Because I don't!" She smiled with a cruelty that would have made Severus proud. Potter swallowed, and a cloud seemed to fall over his eyes. She continued.
"I do remember when you rudely interrupted my conversation with my best friend, but if you asked me which one of us entered that carriage first, I wouldn't be able to tell you!" There was an uncharacteristic, manic delight in her voice as she said that, and somewhere inside of her, Lily could feel a dull thudding.
"Okay, I wouldn't be able to either, but the feelings I have for you are–"
"What? Real?" Lily let out a bark of laughter. "Let me guess, it was in first year when you saw me fly for the first time with the wind in my air. Or was it after Professor Slughorn had invited me to the Slug Club. Oh! Could it have been during my duel with Weghorst in Defence Against the Dark Arts? Oh, how could I forget? You're the living reincarnation of Godric Gryffindor himself! So it had to have been the instant I'd been sorted!"
She had rounded on him now, backing him up far enough that he'd bumped into one of the arm chairs. Around them, the portraits had quietened, peering down at the scene unfolding beneath them. Lily could hear the fireplace crackling out of time to the thudding within, and although they were only a few inches apart, Potter's face was masked in shadow.
"Or was it..." Lily said, her voice lowering to almost a growl. "When I berated you for the twentieth thousand time for bullying my friend."
His eyes were no longer darting around. They were staring deeply into hers, and in his hazel eyes, Lily saw venomous green glaring back. She'd expected Potter to make excuses. To say that he wasn't as bad as Severus. That, like earlier, he would never call her by that word. But it never came. Not even an unwanted apology. Potter's throat tightened, then loosened, a faraway crease in his forehead appearing as he turned his face.
"It's not like that." Never in her time at Hogwarts had she heard his voice that small. Lily could only scoff.
"Isn't it?"
Potter's eyes flickered back to hers. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.
"It's always been about you and Severus, Potter."
Potter's jaw hardened as he followed along the lines she was leading.
"It's not like that." He said, this time with more resolve.
"You two have hated one another since the moment you met."
"It's not like that, Evans."
"You have fought and duelled and hexed each other at any moment you could."
"Don't–"
"What better way for you to torment the person you hate most by taking away the person they most care about."
Potter's eyes shut tight as he winced. Inside, Lily felt the thudding come to a dying halt. When he reopened them, he didn't bring his eyes back to meet hers. Instead, they remained fixated on a spot on the wall, an ever increasing crease appearing on his forehead. It was ridiculous to say such a thing, even without considering the sincerity and earnestness he showed tonight. An arrogant toerag James Potter may be, but that sort of maliciousness was antithetical to his character, and he had proven his character already. But it was a day of mourning, after all. And that mourning had turned to ire.
"It's not like that." Lily was surprised to hear the lack of indignance. Behind those spectacles of his, Lily could see his pupils wavering, and his jawline pulsated with uncertainty. He'd been considering the possibility himself, and she could see that in that moment, he was asking himself the question; Was she nothing but a way for him to get at Snape?
Lily felt her own eyes waver. Had that been what she'd become to Severus? Her lips curled into a bitter smile. Who was she really talking to? Who was she really angry at? Potter? Severus? The both of them and their stupid egos. Petunia? Everyone and no one. Everyone and herself.
Herself, most of all. For failing the little girl she had been. For failing the little girl that had died.
"I know." Lily blinked. Potter blinked, too. He looked up at her, half disbelievingly, half uncertain whether or not she had even said something. Unable to meet his gaze, she looked away, a sense of shame replacing the anger Lily had felt. "It's not who you are."
She turned and made her way back to the stairs. Potter said nothing but had remained deep in thought. When she reached the stairs, she hesitated before half turning her head back towards him.
"I don't know what you're expecting from me, Potter. But right now, there's nothing for me to give. Not now, not for a while... perhaps not ever." She didn't know if it was boldness or despair that made her look up into and lock into his eyes, but there was a need to add some finality to what she'd said. It was hard to believe that the most conceited person in the school stood there in the fireplace light. Without the usual arrogance, he looked younger, more boyish, less the hero he liked to portray himself as.
There was understanding in James Potter's eyes. Understanding and... something else, something familiar. Something she unknowingly knew on an intimate level. He nodded, and Lily Evans felt the hole in her heart grow that little bit smaller.
And somewhere within, a little girl rested.