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“James, mate, wake up.” Sirius Black chucked a pillow across the room, nailing his sleeping best friend in the face. James blinked groggily. Dappled morning light was pouring in from the windows in the dormitory, and as his vision cleared, he saw that the rest of the four-poster beds had already been vacated. 

“I should jinx you for that,” James muttered, burying his face under his covers again.

“No, you should thank me. The match is in half an hour, captain,” Sirius remarked, placing extra emphasis on that last word.

“What?” James threw back his covers and pushed himself to his elbows. Standing before him was the tall, lean form of his best friend, already dressed in crimson and gold Quidditch robes and clutching the glossy handle of his broom.

“Are you deaf? Let’s go!” Sirius exclaimed. James scrambled to his feet, locating his glasses on the dresser.

“You’ll need these,” Sirius added, tossing the bespectacled boy his own quidditch robes.

“Thanks,” James breathed, throwing them over his head. “Where’re Remus and Peter?” 

“They already went down to the pitch, but here, I got you breakfast,” Sirius replied. He handed James a buttered croissant, which James munched gratefully, and the two of them hurried through the castle and out onto the grounds, brooms in hand. Outside, a chilly late-autumn wind was blowing. Heavy grey clouds were rolling in, blocking out the sun. When they reached the changing rooms a mere 10 minutes before the match was meant to start, Sirius pulled James aside. 

“Are you alright, mate? It’s not like you to oversleep on a match day.”

“‘Course I am,” James replied, clapping his friend on the shoulder with a reassuring grin.

However, James had to admit that he wasn’t entirely alright. He had had a rough time falling asleep the night before, kept awake by a scratchiness in his throat he refused to admit was there. Now that his panic from oversleeping had died away, he could not help but realize it had returned again, accompanied by a dull, throbbing headache. But this was a big match against Ravenclaw; it would set them up for victory in next week’s match against Slytherin. And besides, James was the captain. He couldn’t allow the onset of a silly muggle cold to distract him from his duty to his team. As the two friends surveyed each other, it began to drizzle, rousing James from his thoughts.

“C’mon then, let’s get in there,” James said bracingly. He and Sirius entered the changing rooms at last, and after a brief pep talk from James, the Gryffindor quidditch team set out onto the pitch, where rain was now falling in sheets. 

***

Just behind the goal posts, 6th years Dorcas Meadowes and Lily Evans shuffled along the stands to take their seats. 

“I wish I’d brought another jumper,” Dorcas said, rubbing her hands together. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Accio!” cried the red headed witch. A moment passed, then a crimson jumper was sailing towards them, falling in Lily’s lap.

“Here you are,” Lily said with a smile, offering the jumper to her shivering friend.

“You’re brilliant, you are,” Dorcas replied gratefully. 

“Excellent charm,” said a voice from the row behind them. It was Remus Lupin, scarred and shabby-looking as ever, accompanied by a watery-eyed Peter Pettigrew. 

“Thank you, Remus,” Lily said to her fellow prefect. “Come to support your mates, have you?”

“Absolutely. Though with Sirius playing beater this term rather than spectating, the stands have been much quieter.”

“We’ll just have to cheer extra loud then,” Lily said.

“Ohh, James would like that,” squeaked Peter. “Just wait until he sees you, Evans, sitting right behind the goal posts, cheering for him.”

Remus shot Peter a disapproving look, but before he could say anything, Lily remarked, “well, I certainly didn’t come to watch him play. I’ve come to support Marlene. She’s a chaser too, you know, and much more skilled than that big-headed prat.”

However, even as she said it, Lily noticed her words did not have as much bite to them as they once would have. Indeed, since the events of last term, James Potter had laid off his antics quite a bit. He was quiet in lectures, courteous in the Great Hall, and could often be found offering help to those who needed it. The new James Potter, in fact, wasn’t so bad at all, and lately Lily was having trouble finding reasons to actively dislike him.

Peter, on the other hand, looked as though Lily had slapped him across the face. He opened his mouth to retort, but then a loud clap of thunder echoed through the grounds, interrupting him, and a shower of rain began to fall. The wizards in the stands quickly retrieved their wands and cast umbrella charms. 

Then, as if on queue, the quidditch teams exited the locker rooms and walked out onto the pitch. They were met with a cacophony of cheers and boos from the crowd, half of which wore crimson and gold, and the other half of which wore bronze and blue. From where she sat high in the stands, Lily could not mistake the messy-haired figure of James Potter approaching the Ravenclaw captain to shake hands. At Madam Hooch’s whistle, the players kicked off the ground, and began to soar through the air and rain: the game had begun.

*** 

The minute he took off, James was soaked and chilled to the bone. Thunder rumbled above him as he swerved left, right, left again, dodging Ravenclaw players on his way to put the quaffle through the goal hoop. 

“Watch out!” A familiar voice cried. James launched into a tight spiral, barely avoiding the on-coming bludger, which Sirius chased down and lobbed in the other direction. James righted himself again, his head pounding and vision blurry. The Ravenclaw team wasted no time in taking advantage of his vulnerability. Two of their chasers closed in on James, knocking into him from each side and forcing him to drop the quaffle. The crowd responded with a new wave of cheers and boos. 

“Potter, what are you doing?” Demanded Marlene McKinnon, as she raced by him. “Get your head in the game!”

“Right,” James muttered, more to himself than to her. He wiped his streaming nose on his wet sleeve, then steadied himself on the broom once more and took off at full speed after the Ravenclaw chasers.

“Hey Clearwater, I heard your girlfriend isn’t at the match. Bet you’d find her in a broom cupboard with Silverman if you looked!” James bellowed. Clearwater turned around to look at James with rage, and in this split second of distraction, was hit by another bludger, expertly aimed by Sirius. He dropped the quaffle instantly, and Marlene swept in to catch it. She then rocketed off towards the goal posts, James bringing up the rear.

Marlene was heading for the left goal post, but it was too obvious, and defenses were already beginning to gather. James sped up until he was just below her.

Icy rain tore at his face as he yelled, “McKinnon, pass!” Marlene understood at once. Just as it seemed she would crash directly into the Ravenclaw keeper, she dropped the ball, and James, flying a few feet below, caught it. He veered right and upward towards the unguarded center goalpost, and with all the strength he could muster, chucked the quaffle through the hoop.

The crowd erupted with cheers from the Gryffindor supporters, and James saw this as the perfect moment to fly through the hoop in celebration of his successful play. As he gazed out on the sea of his admirers, he locked eyes with a certain red head in the stands. Suddenly, James was aware of his sodden hair, runny nose, and flushed cheeks. His winning smile was replaced with a sheepish grin, and he dove low again, returning to the match.

***

“Bullocks! I’m happy we scored, but of course Potter gets all the glory. It was Marlene who stole the ball in the first place, right Lils? Lils?” Dorcas repeated, elbowing her friend.

“I- oh yes, yes of course,” Lily answered, returning to herself. Something odd had just happened. She could’ve sworn she and James Potter had just shared a moment as he celebrated his first goal of the match. Only instead of being cheeky and relishing in his glory, the quidditch captain had seemed, if she was not mistaken, embarrassed. Certainly, his cheeks had been beet red, but perhaps it was just the cold and rain. Lily was sure anyone on those brooms would be feeling the worst of the unfavorable weather conditions. Yet still, she could not push the moment from her mind, and continued to think it over until the match ended when Bell of Gryffindor caught the golden snitch. Lily watched as the players landed on the muddy pitch and embraced each other.

Then, in a voice that had undoubtedly been amplified by magic, Sirius Black shouted, “Victory party in the common room!”

“Come on,” Dorcas said, linking arms with her friend, “I want to get some dry clothes on for the after party.” Lily agreed, and the two girls made the trek back up to the castle.

Once in their dormitory, Lily and Dorcas stripped off their many layers of damp clothing and changed into jeans and Gryffindor T-shirt’s for the party. Dorcas had a bottle of fire whiskey sent to her by her uncle, and she began to pass it around to their other dorm mates as they waited for the party to get started. The bottle came to Lily last and she took a small sip, feeling the familiar burn in her throat as it went down.

She then handed it back to Dorcas, who took a long pull, and said softly to Lily, “You alright, Lils? You’ve seemed out of sorts since the beginning of the match.” 

“It’s nothing, just… thinking.”

And it was true, Lily had been thinking; thinking about James Potter and the strange moment of eye contact they shared, when he fled from her view instead of relishing in it. Maybe he had matured so much, that he was actually embarrassed by the way he had acted last year, and couldn’t bear to look at her. But that couldn’t be it. He didn’t seem to avoid her in classes this term, or even in the corridors. No, it was something about today at the quidditch match, but for the life of her, Lily couldn’t think of what.

Her ruminating was interrupted, however, by the influx of whoops and loud music downstairs, that indicated the party had begun. Lily’s dorm mates squealed and rushed downstairs.

“Let me have that again,” she said to Dorcas. She took the fire whiskey and took serval gulps, then Dorcas grabbed her hand and steered her down the stairs into the common room.

The party was in full swing. Food had been nicked from the kitchens and spread across the study tables, whiskey and wines of all sorts were being passed around, and drunken young wizards were dancing in the light of the fireplace. Eventually, Lily and Dorcas found Marlene, who was sitting on one of the large crimson sofas next to Sirius Black. Sirius was stretched out like a king with a bottle of his own in hand. Several girls seemed to be in want of his attention, but he was too busy recounting the match in epic detail. 

“And just then, when it seemed those bastard Ravenclaws might score at last, I swung my bat like this-“ he demonstrated with the empty bottle, causing several girls to squeal and gasp, “and launched the bludger right into Sebbins’ sorry skull! Ah, Evans! Come to join the party, have we?”

“Hello, Lily. Dorcas,” Remus greeted quietly from a nearby armchair. Lily glanced around. There was Peter on the floor next to Sirius’s legs, and Remus in the armchair, but the group was missing one all-important member.

“Where’s your fabulous captain? Surely he wouldn’t miss out on the chance to be admired,” Lily said, disguising her interest with as much contempt as possible.

“And wouldn’t you like to know, Evans,” Sirius replied with a smug smile. Peter giggled appreciatively. Lily looked to Remus for an answer, but he seemed preoccupied by the label on his bottle of beer, and did not meet her eye. 

“It’s no matter to me, of course. My time will be much better enjoyed without his annoying presence,” Lily remarked. But this was stranger still. James Potter had never once missed a chance for celebration, especially not celebration of his own success. And Lily was certain his friends knew of his whereabouts, but they were evidently reluctant to share. This drove Lily all the more berserk, as she could do nothing but wonder what had become of the cocky quidditch captain.

***

Up in the Gryffindor 6th year boys' dormitories, James Potter lied in bed, pressing a pillow to his face. The noise from downstairs was hurting his aching head, and now an insistent pain had settled in his throat, stabbing him with every swallow. The match in the cold and rain had done a number on his already-shoddy state of health, and the illness was coming on fast and strong.

James hated being sick for a lot of reasons, but most of all, he found it to be embarrassing. How could a wizard fall victim to a muggle cold? It made him feel weak, something he hated to feel, and he most definitely wasn’t going to let anyone see him like this, especially not Lily Evans. So, after the match, James had held it together long enough to make it back to their room. He took a long, hot shower, hoping to flush the germs from his system so he could at least show face at the after party. But when the steamy shower only served to send his nose running worse than ever, he entrusted his 3 closest friends with the truth of his illness, and asked them not to tell a soul.

“Can do, mate. Rest up,” Sirius had said without a second thought.

“But James, why not just see the matron in the hospital wing? She could give you a potion that would set you right within minutes,” Remus had suggested. 

“I don’t need a potion,” James insisted. “I just need to warm up and get a bit of sleep, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

So Remus sighed and agreed not to tell anyone that James was sick. As the last of the other 6th year boys cleared out of the room, James had slid gratefully into bed, free to be as sniffly and snotty as he wanted to be in the privacy of his bedroom. He could only hope that the party downstairs would provide ample distraction for his absence; what he never could have predicted, was that a certain red head would take such notice, when she had only looked at him with disdain in the past.

Beneath his pillow, James recalled the moment earlier in the day when Lily had been watching him score the first goal of the match. Normally, the thought would’ve made him smile from ear to ear, but being in such a state as he was, he only hoped she hadn’t noticed anything was out of sorts. For once, Lily’s constant dismissal of James was something of a comfort to him, because he was certain she couldn’t have spared the moment much thought. Feeling slightly consoled, he allowed the heaviness in his head to weigh him down, until he fell asleep.

***

Waking up the next morning, James only felt worse. His sinuses felt full and heavy, and his head pounded harder than ever. Even the stabbing pain in his throat had intensified, causing him misery with every swallow. The worst part though, was that it was Monday, which meant he had NEWT level double potions with old Professor Slughorn.

Just the idea of getting out of bed was unthinkable; James was sure he would never survive the journey down to the potions classroom. He pushed himself to sit up, his body protesting furiously. On the far side of the room, Sirius was positioned in front of the mirror, loosening his tie - he said it looked cooler that way - and Remus was wrapping his most recent full-moon wounds in fresh bandages, before covering them with his sleeves. 

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Sirius teased, seeing James begin to stir. “Have a good rest?”

“Not good enough,” James mumbled. “What time is it?”

“Still early, we’re just about to head down to breakfast. Think you’ll make it to potions?” Sirius asked. Sirius was the only one of James’s mates that had also tested into NEWT level potions, though neither boy was sure how. It was lucky, though, considering both shared the ambition of one day becoming an auror. 

“Not likely,” James rasped. “Could you take notes for me?” 

Sirius laughed his bark-like laugh.

“You must really be ill if you think I’m taking notes. Moony, feel his head.” James almost laughed too, but stopped when Remus really did cross the room to check his temperature with the back of his hand, like James’ mother did when he was a kid. 

“You are sort of warm, James,” Remus noted. “I’m sure Madam Pomfrey has just the thing to-“

“Would you sod off about the hospital wing?” James said irritably. Raising his voice strained it, and he massaged the front of his throat gingerly. “I just need another day’s rest. Do you think you could keep this under raps? Just for one more day?”

Remus rolled his eyes but said nothing, busying himself with the buttons on his shirt.

“You’ve got it, Prongs,” Sirius promised, “and I’ll even take notes for you, since you’re poorly.”

“Thanks, mate,” said James with a smile, sinking back onto his pillows, “I owe you one.”

***

Lily could swallow the fact that James Potter did not show up at breakfast, but she could no longer stand it when he skipped out on double potions. 

“Where is he?” She demanded of Sirius once the class ended.

“Where’s who?” Sirius replied innocently, packing up his cauldron and potion-making supplies.

“James, Sirius. Where is James?” She said impatiently.

“Ah, there you go again, Evans, asking about my mate, James. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a little bit of a crush.”

Lily’s cheeks turned scarlet.

“I do not have a crush on James Potter!” She exclaimed indignantly. This only broadened the smile on Sirius’s lips.

“There’s no need to get all worked up,” he said cloyingly. “Denial is the first stage of acceptance. So tell me, is it his devilishly handsome smile? Or perhaps his irresistible charm?”

“I… I’m a prefect, Black!” Lily snapped, desperately trying to regain her footing. “I am a school prefect, and if James Potter is skipping class it is most certainly my business!” 

Sirius’s mischievous grin vanished, replaced by a thin, flat line.

“Playing hooky? Is that what you think? You really always assume the worst of him, you know,” he said bitterly. Sirius shouldered his bag then and departed, leaving Lily staring in his wake. Now she was not only confused, but upset too. She hadn’t meant for things to go so wrong. Sirius just knew how to wind her up, that was all.

I mean really, Lily thought, a crush on James Potter? I’d have to be out of my mind…

Still, there remained the question of Potter’s whereabouts, and what he could possibly be up to that he wanted to keep so hushed up.

***

Meanwhile, in Gyffindor tower, James Potter was shivering despite the three blankets and Gryffindor quidditch jumper he had wrapped himself in. The breakfast Peter brought him from the Great Hall lied untouched on the floor by his bed; the tea prepared for him by Moony had gone cold beside it. Every time another boy came up to the room, James had pretended to be asleep so as to avoid awkward questions, and it wasn’t very hard, seeing as his aching body was keeping him from moving to begin with.

But James was beginning to wonder if this was a muggle cold, after all. He’d had a few of those before, though they weren’t very common among wizards, what with so many potions available to clear them up. No, this felt much worse. He’d never experienced body aches like this, or the alternating sweats and chills. He had also never felt so tired, like it was exhausting just to be awake.

James forced a deep breath in through his blocked nose, which resulted in a coughing fit, and curled himself into a tighter ball under his blankets, shivering worse than ever. Eventually, James was forced to conclude that Remus had not been exaggerating about his temperature; only a high fever could explain him feeling so terrible. Perhaps refusing Madam Pomfrey’s care had been foolish, but it was too late for that now. There was no way James could make it to the hospital wing in this state, and even if he could, he wouldn’t have dared risk the entire student body seeing him on his way there. He decided he had no choice but to remain in his bed, and hope the fever would break soon.

***

After Herbology, Lily Evans washed and headed to lunch in the Great Hall with Marlene and Dorcas. The lesson on aquatic plants of southern Spain had distracted her from her earlier row with Sirius, but it was not enough to completely take her mind off the James Potter mystery. As the professor droned on about the sand-dwelling plants on the beaches of Málaga, Lily’s mind replayed the quidditch match, trying to pinpoint a reason for James’s out of character behavior, and subsequent disappearance. She could think of nothing.

At the Gryffindor table, Lily stabbed a fork into her baked potato, defeated. This whole thing is so stupid, she told herself. I mean for God’s sake, I’m obsessed! The thought disgusted her, and she was ready to resign herself to defeat, when she saw her last hope of an answer sitting alone at the end of the table: her fellow prefect, Remus Lupin, reading a book over his meal.

“I’ll be right back,” Lily said to her friends. She slid along the table until she reached Lupin.

“Hi Remus,” she greeted casually.

“Hello Lily, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon? Surely you’d rather be dining with your friends,” Remus replied, turning the page of his book.

“You’re my friend too,” Lily said genuinely. “But I did want to ask you a question.”

Remus marked his page and looked up at her expectantly. Suddenly, the red head wished she had thought of a plan first.

She stared back at Remus for a moment before saying, “actually, never mind, Remus. It’s silly. I’m sorry to bother you.” She turned to go, but Remus stopped her.

“Is this about James?” He asked. “Sirius told me you two had a quarrel. But I promise you, Lily, I take being a prefect as seriously as you do. I wouldn’t turn a blind eye to James skipping classes just because he is my friend.”

“Oh, Remus, of course not. I never meant to imply…” Lily said helplessly. “Ugh, this is so ridiculous. This has nothing to do with Prefect duties, it’s just… something odd happened at the Quidditch match…” and Lily told Remus everything, about locking eyes with James on his broom, how he had seemed to shy away, how that seemed so unlike him. “And ever since, I haven’t seen hide nor tail of him. It’s like he’s disappeared. I guess I just wondered what happened, or if I did something wrong.” she finished at last.

Remus said nothing the whole time, but watched her with soft brown eyes, nodding slowly.

“Lily, could it be perhaps, that you’ve grown to care for him? Now hear me out,” he added, at her revolted look. “He’s changed. Even you have to admit it. At the match, you expected him to act like an idiot, and he didn’t. Now, just when you’re beginning to form some positive feelings towards him, it feels like he’s avoiding you all together. But I promise you, he’s not.”

“So… the fact I haven’t seen him since the match is just a coincidence?” Lily asked.

“Most definitely. It has nothing to do with you. However, the fact that you’ve been thinking about him so much the last two days would surely make his head spin,” Remus said kindly.

Lily laughed, relieved. Maybe Remus was right. Maybe she didn’t think James was so bad, after all. Maybe she even thought he was quite lovely, all things considered. 

“Okay… but I still I have to ask,” she continued, “where has he been?” Remus chewed on this for a moment. He was not a liar, but he was a Gryffindor, and he was not going to break his promise to his friend.

“Oh, he’s just upstairs in our room, you know. He’s a bit, ah, preoccupied at the moment. But you’ll see him soon I’m sure.”

“'Preoccupied'? With what?” Lily inquired.

Remus’s eyes fell to his book as he muttered something about “James’s business” and “not my place to say.”

Lily began to ponder the quidditch match again, looking for the answer Remus was reluctant to provide. What would make James Potter lock himself in his room for so long, and even miss a Gryffindor Quidditch party? She thought about the match, the dreary rain and autumn chill. She tried to recall his face as they locked eyes across the pitch; his hair had been sopping wet, his cheeks and nose pink, his face pale… could it be…?

“Is he ill?” Lily asked trepidatiously. Remus peered at her out of the corner of his eye.

“If it is alright with you, Lily, I’d like to pass on further inquiries,” he said stiffly. 

“But you’d deny it if it wasn’t true,” Lily said, exhilarated at having finally found her answer. “How bad is he? Surely he is being dramatic, hiding away up there…” she mused. Remus did not answer, but turned a page of his book, not appearing to have heard a word.

“I thought his color was just due to the cold, but no, he has a cold. And he asked you lot to keep it a secret for him? What on earth for?” 

When she was met only with more silence she said, “poor thing, though, not feeling well. Perhaps I’d ought to check on him.” This did the trick, for Remus flinched and snapped his attention back to the red headed witch.

“Er, Lily, you mustn’t… James doesn’t want-“ he began, but it was too late. Lily had risen from the table so quickly that by the time he could so much as protest, she had crossed the Great Hall at a determined pace, hair swishing behind her. 

***

Lily slid through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room and stepped carefully onto the first step leading up to the boys’ dormitories. Had a boy tried this on the girls’ stairs, the steps would have instantly transfigured into a slide, depositing the intruder back at the bottom. But apparently, such enchantments were not in place on the boys’ side. Thankful, for once, for sexism, Lily climbed the stairs at a trot until she reached the landing.

There was a long hallway with doors on both sides numbered one through seven: a dormitory for each year. Lily had never been up here before, but it mirrored the girl’s side exactly, and she proceeded down the hall to door number six. 

Outside the door, Lily suddenly felt nervous. She and James Potter were hardly more than enemies, much less friends. Would he think it odd that she was coming to check on him? Perhaps he would, Lily thought, but if he really was sick as she suspected, he would likely be in need of some company. With this in mind, Lily gathered her resolve and knocked. 

“Who is it?” Croaked a voice behind the door. Lily pushed it open and stepped into the room.

What she saw was worse than she had expected. James Potter was lying in bed in a grey T-shirt, soaked with sweat around the collar and down his chest. His complexion was pallid except for his cheeks, which were fever-flushed and splotchy. His nose appeared to have been rubbed raw, and his hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. Lily’s breath hitched.

At first, James appeared equal parts mortified and confused by Lily’s appearance in his bedroom, but in an instant he had propped himself up on his pillows, and was doing his best impression of someone who was perfectly well. He cleared his throat horribly.

“Evans,” he greeted, with a smile that was more like a grimace. “W-w-what are you d-doing here?” It was an exceptionally weak performance, made worse by his uncontrollable shivering. 

“For God’s sake, James,” Lily said in exasperation, “you sound like you’ve been gargling gravel.”

She crossed the room to his bedside, causing James to stiffen. He flattened his hair subconsciously, refusing to meet her eye. As she walked, her foot found the undrunk cup of tea and knocked it over, spilling it all over the floor.

“What the-?” With a flick of her wand the mess was cleaned up and and the tea cup repaired. She glanced at the untouched plate of breakfast on the floor. “You haven’t eaten anything today, then? Have you at least had water?”

“I - um - no… no appetite, see…” James muttered, still without looking at her.

“Aguamenti,” Lily said firmly, pointing her wand at the tea cup. On command, it filled with cool, clear water. “Hot tea would be better on your throat, but this will do for now. Here,” she said. She knelt down, pressing the cup into his hands. James raised his gaze to her at last and pressed his lips to the cup, taking small sips. He winced as he swallowed.

“I know that hurts,” Lily said sympathetically, “but you need fluids, especially with a fever like you’ve got.” She didn’t need to touch her hand to his forehead to know; she could feel the heat radiating from him just being in close proximity. “You have the flu, I reckon.”

“What’s a flu?” James rasped, sounding mildly horrified.

“It’s a muggle illness. It’s like a cold, but worse. And you’ve got it bad,” Lily answered. “Do Sirius, Remus, and Peter know you’re this ill?”

“No… don’t want them to fuss…” James muttered, pressing a hand to his face. He flicked his eyes open then, peering at her through the spaces between his fingers.

“Why are you here?” He asked again. Lily blushed such that her cheeks rivaled James’s.

“I thought you were acting funny, um, at the Quidditch match. Then I didn’t see you at the party or in potions today so, I got worried. I thought I’d come check on you.”

Now, for the first time, James Potter was smiling. A real, genuine smile that lit up his ghostly face.

“You’re joking, Evans. You were worried about me? Merlin, I should’ve gotten a flum ages ago,” he chuckled weakly.

“Flu,” she corrected him, but she smiled too. “So, I don’t suppose I could convince you to take a walk to the hospital wing? The matron could take care of this, I’m sure.”

James sighed, deflating again.

“I couldn’t take a walk around this room if I wanted to,” he said sadly. “And anyway, it’s awful enough that you’ve seen me this way. I can’t have the rest of the castle seeing me too.”

Lily considered him a moment. So the Quidditch captain was actually embarrassed. That was a surprise, but it made sense now why he had disappeared so absolutely, and why he’d asked his friends not to tell. But if he wouldn’t go to the hospital wing, what else could be done?

“I had the flu a couple of times when I was a little girl. Before I knew I was a witch, I mean,” Lily explained. “Mum always knew how to get me well again, so perhaps we don’t need magic either. It’s a muggle illness, so we’ll treat it like muggles do.” 

James blinked at her wearily.

“At this point, Evans, I’ll try anything,” he conceded. 

“Okay,” Lily said, bolstered by his willingness. “First, let’s get you out of this shirt. I mean, blimey, you’ve sweat right through it.”

James turned even redder, but Lily, not noticing, took hold of his shirt from the bottom and helped him slide it over his head. His stomach muscles contracted as her fingers brushed his abdomen. Lily blushed deeper now, realizing what she had done. She tried not to look at his exposed chest and arms, which were lean and muscular from hours of quidditch practice. 

“Er, sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“That’s okay-”

“I’ll get you a new shirt-“

“Right, thanks-“

“Which one is-?”

“That one, there.” James indicated the dresser that was his and Lily scurried over to it, fumbling in the drawers until she found a fresh T-shirt he could wear. 

“Here,” she said, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” James replied. As he slid it over his head, Lily kept her eyes carefully trained on the ceiling, only daring to sneak a look when she was sure his head was inside the shirt so that he wouldn’t be able to see her.

“Um, do you have any wash rags?” Lily said after a long moment’s awkwardness.

“In the bathroom,” James answered, gesturing vaguely at the en-suite bathroom door. Lily rose quickly and located a cloth, which she wet with cold water under the bathroom sink.

“What are you-?“ James started, but Lily draped the rag over his forehead, and a sigh of relief replaced his protest. He rested back against his pillow again and closed his eyes. “That’s nice,” he hummed. 

“I bet,” Lily replied. “One minute, I’ll be right back.” She disappeared for a moment, and returned with some more supplies: a mug of hot tea with honey and lemon, a muggle thermometer, and an assortment of throat lozenges and paracetamol her mother had insisted she bring with her to school “just in case,” despite Lily’s insistence that potions would work much better. Now, she was glad she had them after all.

Lily set the hot tea on James’s dresser and returned to kneel by his bed again.

“I want you to swallow one of these,” she said, holding out a paracetamol. “It’s muggle medicine. I used to take it all the time as a kid.” James eyed the pill suspiciously.

“Uh, I’m not sure about that, Evans…” he said.

“I know you don’t want to, but we need to get your fever down. Can you trust me?”

James wanted to say no, but one look into Lily’s imploring face and her shining green eyes was enough to make him agree to just about anything. He accepted the medicine from her and swallowed it in one gulp. 

“Good,” Lily sighed with relief. “That’s going to help, I promise.” She glanced at the clock then, noticing the time. The other boys would be returning from their classes any moment now. “I have to go. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how you’re doing,” she said. She squeezed his hand, then straightened up and made for the door. 

As she opened it, James spoke.

“Hey, er, thanks, Lily… I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lily smiled warmly, her heart doing an unexpected cartwheel at the sound of her name on his tongue.

“Don’t mention it. Get some rest.” Then she swung the door shut behind her and departed.

***

Sirius, Peter, and Remus returned to their dormitory after their last class of the afternoon to find their friend James in much better spirits. Although still quite unwell, he was sitting up in bed, sipping some warm tea and flipping through his transfiguration textbook, trying to catch up on the material he had missed. 

“You alright, mate? You’re looking better,” Sirius greeted, tossing his school bag on the floor by his bed. Remus, on the other hand, eyed his friend apprehensively. He wondered whether or not Lily Evans had in fact paid James a visit, and if the dark-haired boy would be angry with him.

“A bit better, yeah,” James replied. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Lads, you’ll never guess what’s happened…”

The three boys gathered around James’s bed, and he told them about his day with a certain red headed girl, who had nursed him all afternoon with her array of muggle remedies. 

“It’s called, ‘parametmol.’ Or ‘parasiteal,’ or…” James pondered aloud. “Have you ever heard of it?” 

Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who had been silent the whole time, stared back at him in shock.

“Moony, I think it’s worse than we feared. He’s hallucinating!” Sirius cried dramatically. 

“Shut up!” James said, though he was still grinning.

“Merlin, Lily is something, isn’t she?” Remus said, exasperated.

“I reckon she is,” James said happily. “And she said she’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You’ll just have to stay ill forever, Prongs,” Sirius joked, “then Evans can dote on you every day.”

“If I didn’t feel so awful earlier, I might actually consider it,” James sighed. “The fever is gone now, though. It’s only a matter of time before the other symptoms are gone too.”

“Are you coming to dinner then? We can bring something back for you if not,” Peter chimed in. James considered it for a moment.

“It would be nice to get out of this room for a bit now that I’m feeling better,” James mused. 

“Prongs, I wouldn’t push it-“ Remus began, but James was already out of bed and striding over to the mirror to artfully mess up his hair before making an appearance in the Great Hall. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his pale complexion, but he was not deterred. 

“Come on. I want to get down there before all the treacle tart is eaten,” he said. Sirius, delighted at having his best friend back, made no argument, but threw his arm around James’s shoulders as the two proceeded out of the room and down the stairs. Remus trailed behind uncertainly, with Peter in his wake.

***

In the Great Hall, the four friends took their seats for dinner. The house elves had prepared an excellent spread, as usual, and the boys wasted no time in helping themselves to generous servings of steak and kidney pie, smashed potatoes, and pumpkin juice. As they began to eat, Marlene McKinnon arrived, sliding into a seat across from Sirius.

“Wotcher, Black,” she greeted. She did a double take as her eyes found James’s face. “Oh, hey captain, you alright?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. His ghostly face was only exaggerated by the candle lit hall, and the rosy patches on the high points of his cheeks were slowly appearing again.

“Never better,” James said through a mouthful of potatoes. However, as he swallowed, he noticed the painful sting in his throat had returned. Marlene nodded slowly, then returned her attention back to Sirius, for whom she nursed a bit of a crush.

Soon, Lily and Dorcas arrived, joining Marlene at the table.

“Hey you lot,” Dorcas said. They made to sit down and Lily found herself in a seat directly across from James.

“James,” she said is a hushed voice, “what are you doing out of bed?” 

“Your muggle medicine did then trick, Evans,” he said cheerily, “I feel loads better.”

“I’m glad, but paracetamol isn’t a cure, James, it only works for a couple of hours. You need rest to truly get better.”

“‘Paracetamol,’ that’s what it’s called. Funny names muggles give things, don’t they?” He chuckled. “Well, it’s brilliant, whatever it is.”

James turned and coughed violently into his elbow, which turned several heads at the table and made Lily cringe. James shook his head, righting himself, and took another sip of pumpkin juice. Lily couldn’t help noticing him wince as he swallowed it.

“Your throat is still hurting, isn’t it?” She said quietly.

“'S'nothing,” James said, though his eyebrows were knitted together. Lily began to eat her dinner, keeping an eye on James the whole time. As the meal continued, she watched as his breathing became slow and labored, and the splotchy red patches spread across his cheeks. James stopped eating and dropped his hands to his lap. He stared down at his half-full plate, shivering faintly.

Lily could no longer stand it. She dropped her fork and reached across the table to press the back of her hand to James’s ruddy face. It was scaldingly hot. Lily pushed her bench away from the table at once. 

“Come on, I’m taking you back upstairs,” she said firmly. James raised his head to look at her. He wanted to argue, but had no energy left to do so. Instead, he nodded and accepted her outstretched hand, allowing himself to be guided back to his room.

***

“There you are, that’s better isn’t it?” Lily said once James was back in his bed. She had turned around while he had changed into pajamas and climbed gratefully back under his covers. Now, she sat perched on the foot of his bed, hands folded in her lap.

“Yeah, thanks,” James said sadly. “I really thought that muggle stuff had done the trick.”

“Like I said, it helps, but only for a little while. Your body needs to fight this thing off on its own. At least you got some food in you,” Lily consoled. James pulled his covers up to his nose. He looked like a little kid, gazing at Lily with his big brown doe eyes. 

“Hey, Evans?” He said hesitantly. “How come you’re being so nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Lily replied automatically.

“Are we? I thought you hated me,” James said quietly. Lily turned slightly pink.

“Well if I did, I don’t anymore,” she answered.

“I didn’t know being sick came with so many benefits,” James mused, a slight smile on his face.

“It’s not that, really. You’ve just… changed. Anyone who is paying attention would notice.”

“Well, then I’m sure glad you are,” James replied. Lily blushed deeper still, but James appeared not to have noticed. He was lying against his pillows with his eyes closed, the small smile still painting his lips. 

“I should let you get some sleep,” Lily said, noticing his slow, even breathing. “Do you want more paracetamol before I go?”

“Please,” James answered. He sat up and accepted the medicine, then swallowed it dutifully. As soon as he was done, he laid back again, letting his eyes fall shut. Lily lingered on the foot of his bed a moment longer, then stood to go. When she reached the doorway, she turned to steal one final glance at the messy-haired boy, dozing peacefully.

“Good night, James,” she whispered. She extinguished the lights, and James slept through the night, feeling better in a way he was sure had nothing to do with the medicine.

*** 

Over the next week, Lily Evans made frequent visits to the Gryffindor 6th year boys dormitory to check in on her patient (a habit that received much ridicule from all of her friends). She preferred when James was alone, but eventually came not to mind the company of Sirius, Peter, and Remus, whom she discovered were all quite lovely in their own right, too. They kept James up to date on school work by taking notes for him, and brought meals to his bed. By the time Friday rolled around, James had almost made a full recovery. His voice was still hoarse, but the fever had subsided, and his energy was slowly returning. 

“Think you’ll be able to play in the match against Slytherin, captain?” Sirius asked that afternoon. James was sitting in bed with his school work on his lap, trying to catch up on the mountains of work he had missed. Before answering, he glanced at Lily, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed and rereading her charms notes. She looked up and smiled faintly, then shrugged as if to say “if you must.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” James told Sirius.

“Excellent,” Sirius replied. “Those bastards won’t stand a chance.”

“Are you coming down to dinner, Prongs?” Asked Remus.

“You go ahead. I just need to finish up here,” James said, gesturing to his homework.

“We’ll save you a seat,” Peter said. The three boys filed out of the room, leaving Lily and James alone.

“I should go,” Lily said, “let you focus.”

“Ah, wait, Lily,” James said quickly as she reached the door. The rare use of her first name made Lily's heart skip a beat. James messed up his hair subconsciously, gazing at her from behind his glasses with a nervous grin on his face. 

“There’s a Hogsmeade visit next weekend. I was wondering, if I haven’t given you my flu by then, if you’d want to go with me.”

Lily tried to restrain her smile, but it was no use. The black haired boy whom she’d once found so annoying had become so endearing. Her answer could only be yes.

“I’d like that,” she said. James beamed.

“Okay,” he said, “brilliant.”

“Brilliant,” Lily agreed.