What You Wanted
July 1978
James was quiet. It worried her a little when he was so quiet.
Lily poured them each a glass of wine and joined him in the living room. He was staring at the Muggle television that he’d bought her, but it wasn’t on.
“I thought they’d have told you in Muggle Studies that you have to press the button.” She said, nodding at the remote on the coffee table and moving to sit behind him on the sofa.
“What?” He asked absently, taking his wine glass from her.
“Doesn’t matter. What’s wrong?” She asked, running her fingers gently through his messy hair when he leant back against her. James had been fine all day. They’d been shopping, painted the hallway, gone for a walk around the village and he’d been fine. But since they’d got back from the Order meeting that evening he’d barely said a word.
“We have our first mission tomorrow.” James murmured, tracing circles across her knee. “Feels a lot more real now we’re out of school. The Order I mean…”
“I thought that was what you wanted… to fight?” Lily asked. All his grand speeches about how they needed to stop Voldemort or die trying… “You don’t have to, you know. You’re a pureblood, you’ll be fine, you can just go about your life, get a job, enjoy being young–”
“They’d see you dead.” James snarled. “You and every other Muggle-born out there. I’m not just going to stand by and watch while innocent people get hurt… You’re going to be my wife! I love you, you think I’m going to just go about as normal while you’re in danger for just existing?”
Lily jumped, she hadn’t expected him to shout. She rubbed her thumb across the nape of his neck. “James, talk to me.”
“I’m just scared.” He admitted, and Lily pulled him impossibly closer.
“Me too.” she whispered.