To Ashes

Lily wasn’t one for smoking, and when she did she tried to keep it out of sight of the others. It wasn’t a habit she was proud of, so when James happened upon her in the common room, in the middle of the night, for the second time, Lily was not well pleased. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked. It was at that moment Lily remembered that she hadn’t bothered with a dressing gown, and had padded down the stairs in only an oversized t-shirt. To her immense relief, James’s eyes stayed firmly on her face instead of her bare legs.

“No, you?”

“Was just headed to the Astronomy tower for a smoke, actually. Want to come with?” Her initial instinct was to say no, but now that he’d popped her small bubble of solitude the idea of smoking alone seemed incredibly sad. 

“It’s after hours.”

He looked confused. “Yeah.”

She blinked. “We could get caught.”

James looked so outrageously offended that Lily nearly apologized on instinct. “Have you no faith in my intelligence and prowess?”

“Unsure, but I’ll certainly give your prowess a chance.”

“Great, let’s go.”

Lily hesitated. “I need to, um,” she gestured vaguely to her attire, “change.” Even with just the dim light of the moon spilling through the window, Lily could see that James’s face had flushed an impressive ruby red. “I’ll just be a mo’.” 

She put out her cigarette and took the stairs two at a time, easing into the room so that she wouldn’t wake the others. She fumbled through her clothes for the first appropriate thing she could find, ran a brush through her hair, and hurried back down, oddly nervous that he would leave without her. He hadn’t, of course, and they set off quietly through the portrait hole.

“Filch is patrolling the west side of the castle right now. We should be fine.” Lily didn’t even bother asking how he knew. 

It was strangely calming, moving through the halls when no one else was about. She’d been out after hours patrolling with the other prefects, but this was different. It was like an entirely new castle, open and waiting to be explored. Seven years of school would never be enough time to learn all of Hogwarts’ secrets. Lily would rather die a painful death than admit it to James, but she could understand the way that it called to him. 

They were chatting about the upcoming Quidditch match when a rusty yowl shattered the comfortable quiet around them. Lily had forgotten about Filch’s cat.

“Shit,” she hissed, watching the cat’s ragged tail whip around the corner “it saw us.” Filch’s voice echoed through the halls as they heard him call out. 

James seemed remarkably unbothered. “Is that thing really not dead yet?”

“It’ll outlive us all, but more importantly there’s nowhere to hide.” There were no broom closets or empty classrooms in the corridor they were frozen in, and Lily could hear Filch’s heavy, shuffling footsteps drawing closer.

She grabbed James’s wrist. “You said we wouldn’t be caught!” 

He smiled down at her. “Trust my prowess, Ginger.” Faster than Lily could track, he pulled something from his pocket and tugged it over them. 

“Wha-”

“Shh.” He quickly covered her mouth with his hand and pulled them against the wall. Lily instinctively stiffened and made to move, but James wrapped his other arm around her to keep her in place.

She glared furiously at him, and was considering biting his fingers when through the film she saw Filch appear from around the corner. James mouthed ‘sorry’ down at her. She braced herself for the inevitable, preparing an apology in her head, but then something miraculous happened. Filch walked right by them. He limped down the corridor, cursing under his breath, and disappeared around a corner. Mrs. Norris stared suspiciously in their direction for a terror-filled moment, but she too eventually continued on.

James held them in place for another minute or so until Filch had moved far enough away, and when he finally released her and pulled the fabric off Lily had forgotten to be mad about being manhandled.

“What the hell ?” 

He beamed, and handed her the slippery swath of fabric with a flourish. “Invisibility cloak.” His voice was filled with pride. 

The cloak was slick and cool to the touch, like liquid pooling in her cupped palms. As hard as she tried, Lily’s eyes couldn’t focus on one single color in the fabric, it shifted and flowed and flickered. 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and she meant it, “where did you get this?”

“My dad gave it to me, although he’s pretty vague about how he acquired it.”

“Wait,” she arched an eyebrow at him, “is this how you lot sneak around all the time?”

“Yep.” 

“How did you fit all of it in your pocket?”

To his eternal credit, James very kindly did not laugh at her question. “Lily, I’m a wizard.”

“Right...yes.” She shook her head in disbelief and handed it back to him. “Okay, I'll admit to your prowess now.”

A delighted grin swept across his face. “I’m never going to let you forget that.”

She groaned.

They finally made it to the tower, and once they sat down Lily pulled out two cigarettes and a lighter. 

“That thing makes a flame?” James asked, fascinated. “Sirius would love this.”

“Yeah, I know I could just use my wand, but I like it.” She showed him how to use it and watched, smiling slightly, as he eagerly flicked it on and off. He lit their cigarettes and handed her back the lighter. 

“It’s got initials on it.” He said casually, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“It was my dad’s, I took it after the funeral.” She thumbed the worn engraving. She’d taken to carrying the lighter everywhere she went, and often throughout the day she would slip a hand in her pocket to feel the familiar weight of it.

“How are you doing?” 

Lily mentally cursed James for how easily he seemed to be able to lead her into vulnerability. She wondered, not for the first time, why it was so natural for her to talk to him. “It doesn’t feel real. My life here and my life in the muggle world are so separate, and when I’m here, it feels like it happened to someone else. It’s strange.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about Petunia’s letter.” 

She winced. “Good assumption.”

“Understood.”

She looked at him, surprised. “You’re not going to try to make me talk about it?”

He blinked, confused. “Why would I force you to talk about something painful?”

“Mary and Marlene seem to think talking it out is the ‘best way to heal’.” She rolled her eyes. “I love them dearly, but it can be a bit much.”

“Grief isn’t a monolith, it takes different forms and can have different needs.” Lily considered this as she took a long drag, holding the heat of it in her lungs while she listened to her dad lecture her in her head about the dangers of smoking. Lily did not particularly love smoking, but everytime she did she heard her dad’s voice scolding her for it, so she kept finding reasons to. She exhaled, and watched the long ribbons of smoke drift lazily up into the sky above them.

She finally turned to him and said, “You know, that’s rather fucking profound, James.” 

He grinned. “I have my moments.”

“I’m going to steal that, if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest.” He said graciously.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, smoking leisurely and looking at the stars.

She was the first to break the silence. “Why were you planning on coming all the way here to smoke?”

James, lost in his own thoughts, only half-heard her. “Hm?” He leaned back on his elbows. 

“You said you’d been planning on smoking here. Why didn’t you smoke in your room or the common room?”

He looked strangely bashful. “I, uh, don’t do that anymore.”

“You don’t?” 

“Yeah, you’d been asking me not to, so I’ve been coming up here.” He shrugged. ‘Asking’ was an incredibly generous portrayal of Lily’s insistence that he stop smoking in the common room. Lily opened her mouth to say something and promptly shut it again, chagrined. James noticed her uncertainty and shook his head quickly.

“It’s alright, really. You were right, anyway. About smoking indoors.”

“I feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite right now.” 

He chuckled. “Your words, not mine.”

Lily swatted his arm gently. She flicked the lighter again, and the flame cast a slight glow over his face. 

She felt it again then, the same call that had tugged at her as they sat by the lake. James Potter had a pull to him, almost a sense of his own gravity. It had drawn Lily in and whispered to her and beckoned for her to lean against his shoulder. She’d been so careful since then, maintaining a cordial distance, never allowing their legs to press together in the Great Hall or on the common room sofa. Intimacy wasn’t supposed to grow that quickly, she didn’t know why James was able to peel her away layer by layer. It frightened her. 

She felt her fingers twitch towards him, looking for a hand, a wrist, a knee. But they came here to talk - and not talk - about her dead father, so Lily turned firmly away, tucking her fingers underneath her, allowing the rough bite of the stone to drown him out.