The Marauders: Year Five #Wattys2017

Talking With Evans

Talking With Evans

Lily stood by the trap door for a few moments after Sirius and Regulus had left, gathering herself and trying to think of what words to say to James when she turned around. She could hear him breathing - shaky and deep. When she turned around, she found that he had sat down so that his back was against the couch and was staring at his hands in his lap, turning something over in his hands.

"What's that?" she asked, stepping toward him.

James looked up. "My old glasses. Regulus found them in the cave. He thought they were hers. She wore glasses sometimes, too." He held them up for her to see. "It's the thick ones."

Lily walked over and slid onto the floor beside James, trying very hard not to look at Maryrose's body. The thought of a dead body being right there sent chills down Lily's spine. She took the glasses from James and looked at them. The lenses were cracked, but the frames were alright. They looked the same as they had last time she'd seen them on his face. She handed them back to him. "I think what you did, bringing her back, was really... really brave, Potter."

James stared at the glasses again, then folded them up and shoved them in his jumper pocket. He brought his knees up to his chest. "Brave?" he scoffed. "Carrying home the body of a girl who should never have died isn't bravery. It's a duty. Particularly when you're the reason she's dead in the first place."

"You're not the reason, James, don't blame yourself," Lily said.

James tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling and he said, "Then who do I blame?"

"You know who."

James looked over at her.

"Voldemort, I mean."

"I know who you meant."

"He's the reason she's dead," Lily said, "Not you. You were being so very brave then, too, saving that little girl... You haven't been properly recognized for that - not by anyone at all. I don't understand it."

James shrugged. "I don't want to be recognized for it."

"You did something heroic," Lily said, "You deserve to be recognized."

James ran his wand along the floor of the shack in front of himself, letting the tip of it scrape along through the dust. He stared at the etched webs that embellished the wood of his wand. "I just want everyone to be happy... and... and alive. I want everyone to be with the ones they love and to have lives that are whole and good... I don't want people to keep dying." He looked so deeply concerned, his eyebrows knitting together, his forehead deep with lines. "I can't stand this - people dying." He looked over at Lily. "It's not fair, Evans."

"I know." Lily reached over and took his hand up in hers, wrapping both her hands around it, lacing their fingers together. His eyes shifted to the knot she'd made with their hands, and then up to her face. She said, "I want that stuff, too."

James's eyes met hers and he felt a funny quiver run through him, and his throat swelled up and he just stared at her so very long that she started to blur up as tears threatened him and he looked away, across the Shack toward the front door and he bit his lips and took a couple deep breaths, stabilizing his emotions.

Lily ran her thumbs over his hand. "I'm sorry I've been so terrible to you, James, this past month... or really, ever. I've been awful to you."

He didn't deny it. He couldn't. Instead he said, "I've been pretty awful to you, too..."