Lily Evans and the Marauder's Secrets

Bonus 3: Letters to Lily

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! This is the last bit of bonus content before Part 2 is ready to go. I'm SO excited for you all to read it! But for now, enjoy one last look into James's head. This chapter is written in JAMES'S POV and takes place IMMEDIATELY after Lily leaves the wedding. Hope you like it and see you next time for PART 2!

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I stumble to a halt and stare dumbly at the spot Lily's just disapparated from; one moment there and the next gone.

Pop.

Just like that, her footprints still etched in the frozen snow.

She kissed me.

It repeats over and over in my head.

She kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me.

Until a new thought interrupts.

And then she ran away.

But my mind doesn't want to dwell on this bit. Instead, it ignores that fact entirely and circles back to how Lily stopped me before I could leave, ran at me, threw her arms around my neck, and she kissed me.

I don't even know how to process this. My feet are frozen in the snow, there's no one out here but me, and I don't care.

I'm still burning up, because she kissed me.

I've thought about kissing Lily hundreds of times, a hundred different ways. It was just a stupid fantasy, one that Sirius and Peter and Remus love to poke fun at, one that I'd kind of given up after fifth year. Until this year, when things with Lily and me had gotten so much better, and then there'd been a few times where I almost let myself believe that it seemed like she wanted to kiss me.

But I'd learned my lesson. I was playing it safe, I wasn't pushing anything on her, and I was trying my very best not to project any feelings onto her actions.

If anything was going to happen between us, I'd decided, it'd have to come from her.

And I didn't believe for one second that anything was going to happen.

Not when she let me call her Lily. Not when she stopped dreading our tutoring sessions together, not when she came to the Quidditch match, not even when she invited me to the wedding.

I just let myself be relieved that we were finally on friendly terms, and that's it.

Because there were still plenty of other reasons to believe she didn't feel anything like that about me. Like how she went to the Christmas party with bloody Snape, of all people. Or our many bouts of arguing. And, of course, her continuous insistence on calling me 'Potter'.

She really knew how to make a bloke hate his own name.

So, yeah. Even after she sent me a patronus tonight and invited me inside with her and took my hand for a moment, I still did my best to not let myself believe anything of it.

The dancing had been the hardest part. So close to her like that... if Peter hadn't showed up right when he did, Merlin knows I would've broken my own rules and kissed her right then.

At the time I'd been rather irritated with Peter but now I think I'm glad.

She kissed me.

Padfoot's never going to believe this.

Then I remember he's not at home and frown.

But wait – I'd shoved the two-way mirror into his hands earlier, while we'd been patrolling the woods.