─ trente cinq

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TRENTE CINQ

lily & james!



"WE SHOULD go visit your grandparent's grave," Lily said absentmindedly as she sat in the library with James. They had been studying — needlessly — for an inconsequential exam coming up in History of Magic.

James normally would've tried to drag her away, but a part of him wanted to hold on too, so he allowed her to nitpick over books and dates and names. She was flicking endlessly through her usual stack of books when it came to History of Magic.

If James was being honest, he didn't know why they had an exam, Professor Binns probably wouldn't even finish grading by the end of school, but it provided a sense of normalcy. A distraction of what was being taken away from the both of them.

"Why?" James asked, confused. "I mean my dad made us go every year on Halloween. It's nothing special."

"I know, but I just feel like- it's something spiritual, I guess?" Lily replied. "After everything that's happened and all."

"If you'd like to, we can totally go," James replied with a smile. "We could make an outing out of it and look at that house."

"Ok," Lily said as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You alright?" James asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Just not used to all of ... this. I mean- I act like I have everything under control and that I'm ready for the future, but I'm really ... not."

"Hey," James whispered as he reached over and grabbed her hand. "No one is. But I guess that's what makes it better. We're all not ready together. And now that we don't have school holding us back, think of all the grand adventures we can go on!"

Lily bit back her smile as she looked at him with golden hour eyes.

"I love you," she said quietly.

"I love you too," he replied.

She looked back down at her work and couldn't seem to focus on it. She traced her finger along the worn pages of the books over all of the ink and tea stains and the small tears on some of the sides. The way the pages bent due to use or water damage.

The way the ink of the words were faded, but the meaning still held true. The quiet hum of the library around her as students prepared for OWLs and other final exams, frantically. They couldn't see any future besides a good mark on those assignments. They didn't have to.

The quiet protection of the hallowed halls permeated in a soft vibrance. Every drop of laughter spilt was breathed in and kept for darker days.

And then, once the dozens of classes let out, you could hear the castle exhale in effervescence as the students floated with the butterflies and gossip spilled from one tongue to the next, making cheeks light aflame and giggling to strike the air.

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