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Lily scrubbed at the sticky purple goo smeared across the stone floor of the potions classroom, her arms aching as she muttered under her breath. Someone had definitely tampered with her potion, adding something that caused it to froth and explode in a mess of thick slime. Yet here she was, the one saddled with detention, while the real culprit likely went off laughing about it.
To make matters worse, Professor Slughorn had taken her wand before she began, insisting she clean up "the Muggle way" as if that were a suitable punishment for what she was sure was someone else's mischief. She gritted her teeth and leaned in closer, her nose wrinkling at the smell of charred berries and an acidic undertone. This wasn’t just tedious—it was disgusting.
Her hand cramped as she wrung out the sponge, only to watch in frustration as the goo clung stubbornly to the floor. It was more magical than she'd first thought; some residue shimmered and pulsed when she scrubbed harder, as if trying to resist her efforts. Sticky smears clung to her hands, and she felt the goo sinking into her sleeves and robes. The thought of how long it would take to clean herself up was almost as dreadful as the classroom itself.
She was mid-scrub, practically growling with annoyance, when the door creaked open. She dropped the sponge into the bucket with a wet plop and turned, ready to appeal to her professor for a little leniency—or at least a towel. But when she looked up, it wasn’t Professor Slughorn standing in the doorway.
“James?” she blurted, taken aback.
James was hunching over a piece of parchment, brow furrowed as he looked between it and the room. “Thought Sirius was in here,” he muttered, then finally glanced up, looking as surprised to see her as she was to see him. “What are you doing here?”
“Detention, remember?” Lily gestured to the oozing mess, the frustration clear in her voice.
“Right, right…” James looked slightly uncomfortable, stepping back toward the door. “Well, didn’t mean to bother you, so I’ll just—” He twisted the handle, then turned back to her. “It’s locked.”
“Use your wand,” she replied with an eye roll.
“Yeah, of course.” James waved his wand, but the door stayed stubbornly shut. He tried again, frowning. “It seems… not to want to open.”
“Ridiculous. Just use an unlocking spell.”
“I did,” he protested.
“Then why isn’t it open?”
“I don’t know,” he shot back. “Why don’t you try?”
“I don’t have my wand,” she explained, exasperated. “Slughorn’s orders.”
“Right. Here, take mine.” He handed her his wand, and she tried a series of unlocking spells, but the door still wouldn’t budge.
“Brilliant,” she huffed, giving the door a frustrated kick before perching herself on a nearby table. James slumped into a chair and pulled out a small mirror.
“Padfoot… Padfoot…” he muttered, tapping the glass. “Sirius! For Merlin’s sake, pick up your mirror!”
Lily groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to kill your best friend.”
“He’s playing games with us,” James said, tossing the mirror onto the table with a resigned sigh.
“Obviously.”
James glanced around the room, looking like he was searching for something. “You know, I could fix this up in a jiffy.”
“No magic allowed,” she reminded him, crossing her arms.
“No magic for you. I’m free to do what I want.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” He looked genuinely puzzled. “I’m just trying to help.”
Lily shook her head. “I don’t want you to be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Rubbish.”
Lily leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she looked at him. “You’re really not mad at me?”
James sighed. “A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, staring at his hands. “But, you know…”
“I really don’t.”
James glanced away, running a hand through his hair. “I meant what I said. I don’t regret it.”
“Even when I didn’t say it back?”
He looked back at her, his expression honest. “A person’s never obligated to say ‘I love you’ back. I was being honest with you and I appreciate that you were, too. Even if it hurt.”
“Sorry,” She whispered.
They both looked anywhere but at each other. This was the first time they’d been alone since that awkward Hogsmeade date last weekend. It had started well, like all their dates had. James was as charming and thoughtful as ever, and they’d spent the afternoon laughing and exploring together. Then, mid-kiss, he’d said the words. I love you.
Lily had pulled back, explaining that it was too much. Because it was. James was a lot, their relationship was a lot, and she’d said as much, suggesting maybe they should slow down. Or even take a break.
It felt foolish, given how long it had taken them to reach this point. They had spent most of their time at Hogwarts in a blend of half-flirtatious, half-competitive, and completely unpredictable interactions. One moment they’d be helping each other study, and the next they’d be yelling, with Lily calling him a bigheaded, arrogant bully.
They had worked hard to earn this relationship. And yet, Lily pulled away.
Lily sighed, hopping off the table. “I’m going to get back to cleaning.”
“I can help,” James offered, standing up as well.
“I told you not to.”
“I won’t use my wand,” he promised, holding his hands up. “I’ll scrub with my hands, just like you. Please, Lily. It’ll give me something to do—I can’t just sit here and watch you work. You’re not a house-elf.”
She studied him, then finally let out a resigned sigh. “Alright. Grab a sponge.”
They worked in silence, scrubbing opposite ends of the classroom. James cleaned spots on the walls she couldn’t reach, even when she stood on a stool. The sound of the clock ticking filled the room, each second stretching out painfully as they waited for Slughorn to return and release them.
After a while, Lily broke the silence. “You need to tell Sirius that our relationship is none of his business.”
“I tried,” James replied, grinning wryly. “He disagrees.”
“On what grounds?”
“Says, that since he considers himself the most noble and dutiful of friends, it’s his responsibility to ensure our happiness.”
“That sounds like Sirius.”
“Yep.”
Lily rinsed out her sponge in the sink, watching the murky water swirl down the drain. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, letting the silence stretch between them. Her gaze flickered back to James, who was still scrubbing away, his shoulders tense under the dim classroom light. She took a deep breath.
“He’s not wrong, though.”
James glanced over at her, surprised. “What?”
“Sirius,” she clarified, setting the sponge down. “He’s not wrong. I wasn’t unhappy going out with you.”
A small, sad smile played at the corner of his lips as he climbed onto a nearby chair to reach a stubborn streak of goo high up on the wall. “I know that.” He sounded tired but sincere, his voice carrying a calm warmth that eased the tightness in her chest. “I know you don’t… not want to be together. You’ve… I’m not mad at you.”
Lily watched him, the ache in her chest deepening. She slid onto the edge of a desk, folding her hands in her lap, eyes never leaving him.
“What were you going to say?” she asked quietly.
He hesitated, giving her a brief, almost embarrassed glance. “Nothing.”
“James,” she pressed gently, a soft insistence in her tone. “That’s not true.”
Slowly, he sat down on the desk across from her, pulling off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he could stave off the vulnerability in his next words. When he put his glasses back on, he met her gaze, his hazel eyes earnest, unguarded.
“Alright. What I was going to say was… you’ve been through a lot.” His voice was soft, each word measured, carrying more weight than she expected. “Your friendship with Snape ended badly, your parents… your sister treating you like she does… this whole war going on, with people saying you don’t belong in the world you were born into.” He swallowed, looking down at his hands for a moment. “I get it if a serious relationship is too much right now. And that’s okay. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve kindness, or someone to support you and help you, to be there for you. You, more than anyone, deserve that.”
Lily’s heart twisted at the honesty in his words, her throat tight as she blinked against the tears welling up. She swiped at her eyes with her sleeve, a watery smile breaking through.
“I… thank you, James. That was lovely.”
They stayed like that, neither one moving, as the quiet ticking of the clock filled the room. There was cleaning to finish, yet it felt like an afterthought, unimportant compared to the gentle peace settling between them. She glanced down, but her hand reached out almost on instinct, fingers grazing his. Her cheeks flushed as she realized what she’d done, but James didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted, reaching for her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Slowly, as if drawn by an invisible pull, Lily scooted closer to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes, and felt his arm settle around her shoulders, his touch both comforting and steady. He smelled like the woods after rain—warm, earthy, with a hint of fresh air that grounded her.
“It’s going to be okay, Lily,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper that resonated in the quiet room. “I’m not going anywhere.”