To Ashes

The sleeping draught did its job and kept away the bad dreams, but because they’d split the dosage Lily woke up only a few short hours later, the darkness thick as a quilt around her. For a moment she thought she was still sleeping, because a large mass was pressed up against her back. She blinked into the inky blackness once, twice, three times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.  

 The warm weight was unfamiliar but comforting, and as Lily adjusted slightly the mass shifted with her, like a moon in orbit. Something that felt like an arm, heavy and roped with muscle, snaked over her waist and pulled her closer. It was then that she remembered she wasn’t in her own bed, and that the person wrapped around her had to be James.

Lily tried to make her body move, she really did. She couldn’t stay like that, with his face nuzzled into her hair, she liked it too much. She willed herself to shift away from him but it felt like her limbs were freezing in place, turning to stone where she lay. James moved slightly in his sleep and adjusted his hand, fingers fanning out over her ribs. It could’ve been the way that the darkness cradled them, or the solemn rise of the heavy bed curtains, like sentinels, cutting them off from the room, but Lily’s resolve crumbled bit by bit. She was too tired, too drained, too sad, to tear herself away from this stolen sliver of comfort. So she closed her eyes and let herself be held.

James woke up with something pressing down on his chest. Without his glasses the only thing he could make out in the thin morning light was a blurry, vaguely bludger-shaped lump sitting solidly on his sternum. He flung a hand out in the direction of his bedside table, sticking it awkwardly through the curtains while taking care not to jostle whatever was on top of him. Once his lenses were sitting firmly on his face he blinked blearily down to see Lily’s head pressed against his chest and one of her legs flung over his. He went still, heart hammering so hard in his chest he half-expected it to wake her.

James drank it in for a bit, her sleep-mussed hair and the sliver of her bare back peeking out from under the rucked-up hem of her t-shirt. He tried to commit this stolen moment of intimacy to memory even though he’d no right to it. She was warm and soft where she was pressed up against him, the heat of her sending his head spinning. 

He allowed his self-control to give, just the tiniest bit, and smoothed her hair back from her face, the strands slipping like water through his fingers. She nuzzled closer to him unconsiously, shifting upwards and pressing her face against his neck. He felt the barest brush of her lips against his skin, silk-soft and warm, and suddenly the hunger crashed against him like a wall, turning his bones to jelly. He inhaled sharply, unprepared. She smelled like cloves and cinnamon, but there was something else underneath, something smoky and sweet that he couldn’t quite name. He wanted to drown in it.

Lily started to stir, and James didn’t want her to feel embarrassed when she woke up, so he moved her gently back to her side of his bed, careful not to let his fingers linger where they shouldn’t. The loss of her warmth was devastating.

He glanced down at his chest, half expecting to be branded in the places she’d touched him. He could still feel the light weight of her fingertips where they’d splayed out over his chest, and James shivered at the thought.

A slight movement caught his eye and he turned to see Lily stir. Her eyelids fluttered as she stretched, finally cracking open as she blinked the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning.” He whispered.

She smiled over at him, it was lopsided and still full of sleep, but it burned right through him.

“Morning.” She murmured, throat hoarse from disuse. James tried not to think about how much he liked that.

“Sleep okay?” 

“Yeah, you?”

“Like a rock. Madam Pomfrey could take a page or two from you on sleeping potions.”

She beamed, preening under his praise. He grinned back stupidly, wondering idly to himself as she pulled back the bed curtains if there would ever come a day where he could look at Lily without the hunger threatening to swallow him whole.

Lily slid out of his bed, grimacing as her feet hit the cold floor. The chilled air lapped at his legs as James stood, ducking to swipe his dressing gown and the first bit of warm clothing he saw off the floor. It turned out to be a jumper, which he tossed over to her. Something possessive in his chest growled as she tugged the collar over her head, bits of red hair sticking up like a hedgehog. 

After ensuring that there was still another pain potion left on Remus’s nightstand, Lily gave James a sleepy smile and wave as she shuffled off back to her dorm. 

He checked on Remus once the door shut behind her. He was pretending to be asleep, but James could see the uneven stutter of his breathing under the covers. He wanted to be left alone, James could tell that much, but he knew if he didn’t drag his friend from their room he would happily waste away to nothing, his bed becoming a tomb. Remus had perfected the art of self-loathing.

So James ignored his friend’s wishes, dragging him up into a sitting position and forcing a pain potion down his throat. This was a monthly ritual; James had become fluent in Remus’s language of winces and gritted teeth. No matter what Remus said, that morning he was hurting, and in more ways than one. The weak protests and rude names cut off as he gagged on the thick liquid, glaring at James as he swallowed hard. 

“Does Lily purposefully make them taste like toad shit?” Remus muttered, glaring down balefully into the newly empty bottle. 

“No, although I suspect she purposefully leaves in more lumps than strictly necessary.”

Remus grimaced. “It certainly is… textured .”

James winced sympathetically. “I’ve tried to slip in some constructive criticism, but everytime I try I’m met with ‘ mashing the root will weaken its efficacy ’.” James parroted, pitching his voice in a thin imitation of Lily.

The ghost of a grin appeared on Remus’s face. “S’not as effective without your hands on your hips.”

James nodded. “Quite right.” He perched his fists on his hips and cleared his throat.

“ If you complain about my potions one more time, Remus Lupin, next month I’ll just let you suffer. ”

Remus smiled again, but it was thin, brittle. James could see the self-loathing rising to the surface. “She won’t, though.”

“No,” James agreed firmly, “she would never.”

Lily caught a flash of black in her periphery, and when she looked over she saw Snape heading right for Remus as he left the Great Hall, fury twisting his features. Afterwards Lily wasn’t really sure how she got there so fast, only that she knew she had to. She met him halfway, her shoulder ramming into his chest and her hand forming an iron grip around his arm. The loss of blood had left him weakened and unsteady, and she could feel him using her hand to keep him from toppling over. She could also feel the resentment pouring from him because of it. He was working his mouth to spit some horrible curse at her but she cut him off.

“If I see you go near Remus, I will kill you.” Mulciber was watching from the Slytherin table, frowning in their direction, so she kept her voice calm and pleasant, as if they were discussing the weather. “Do you understand me? If you harm my friend in any way I will kill you, and no one on earth will be able to save you from me.”

“And just what do you think of the little prank your friend Black played?” Snape hissed. “He could’ve killed me.”

“He could’ve.” Lily agreed. “And he was wrong. But you were stupid enough to fall for it. You always love to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“And you just forgive him?” He sneered. Lily ignored that.

“Did they tell you I’m the one who brought you to the hospital wing?” From the way his mouth was hanging stupidly open, Lily gathered he didn’t know. “That’s right. I dragged your stupid, bleeding body all the way to safety.”

“I-” 

Lily took a tiny step forward, cutting him off, voice sliding to a hissed whisper. She dug her fingers deeper into his arm. “You can fear and hate Remus all you like, as long as you remember that if you hurt my friend, I will be far more monstrous than Remus could ever be. I will be the one to fear. You owe me your life, Severus. Never forget that.” 

She stared at him, unblinking, relishing the bloom of unease in his eyes. 

“Alright, Lily?” Marlene appeared at her shoulder. Some small part of Lily laughed at how Marlene’s height forced Snape to look up at her. She released his arm.

“Yes, coming.” She could feel Snape’s gaze resting between her shoulder blades as she left.