Okay
“Talk to me.”
“No.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“It’s fine. Leave it.”
“It’s not fine. You’re not fine.”
“I am fine. Everything’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“Potter, I said I’m okay, just let it go.”
“Stop telling me you’re okay!”
He didn’t think he’d ever been this mad at her. Surely, surely some other time he had to have been mad at her like this. Maybe when she’d bested him in their Fourth Year duels. Possibly that day by the lake when she’d turned him down. Potentially when she’d accused him of playing favourites with his mates and not taking his role as Head Boy seriously at the start of the year.
But he knew.
He hadn’t been mad those times. Jealous. Embarrassed. Disappointed. Not mad.
This was the first time James Potter could ever think of when he’d actually been truly, honestly, outright, downright furiously mad at Lily Evans.
And he was so fucking worried about her that he couldn’t even revel in it.
It was obvious that she was in pain. She couldn’t hide it, though he could see she desperately wanted to, tried to. Her arms curled around herself, protecting her body where she huddled on their Head Office couch. Her normally tidy, braided hair was loose and knotted, half covering the bruise he could see forming on her jaw.
The worst of it was, she wouldn’t even tell him what happened.
“Evans.” James swiped a hand through his hair, hoping she was at least too distressed, though she claimed otherwise, to chastise him for it. “Let me help you.”
Her head was already shaking before he’d even got the words out. “No.”
“Why?” He moved closer now, dropping to his knees in front of her. His hand landed on her knee, and he watched her eyes flick to it, but she didn’t tell him to remove it. It gave him the courage to press. “Lily, let me help you.”
Her brow crinkled, but even that seemed to cause her pain as the frown quickly gave way to a wince. “I can’t. You can’t.”
“Let me try.” Frustrated with his inability to see her face properly, James brushed her hair back, trying not to let his hand shake when he saw the telltale black curse lines running across her cheek. He gritted his teeth, preferring to grind them to dust than do anything that would make him push her away.
She saw through him, clearly, instantly. “James,” Lily sighed, and his heart clenched at the sound of his name on her lips. “I promise, I’m okay.”
Having never let his hand fall, his palm now cupped her face, taking great care to avoid the bruises and marks leftover from her post-rounds duel. “I never took you for a liar, Evans.”
Her laugh was weak, but it made his heart sing. It also made him bold. Not removing his hold, James used his other hand to remove his wand from his pocket and rest it gently against Lily’s stomach. But he waited for her small nod of acquiescence before casting several healing spells.
It was guesswork, calculated, but guesswork nonetheless, given she wouldn’t admit to being hurt, let alone what was actually wrong. But he couldn’t deny the flood of relief and gratitude at his misspent youth when they appeared to work. Lily finally began to unfold her body, straightening without a grimace. The bruises slowly dissipated and the curse lines receded.
James felt like he could finally breathe again.
It was almost a pity the air was pulled straight back out of his lungs at the feel of Lily’s lips on his skin. She’d tilted her head in his hand, just enough to plant a soft, purposeful kiss in the middle of his palm. Her green eyes- slowly starting to sparkle again after the terrifyingly dullness they’d held earlier- didn’t leave his as she pulled away.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not,” Lily insisted, and he could tell by the curve of her lips she too was noting the echo of their earlier words. “It’s not nothing.” Her fingers sought his, closing over where they still rested on her lap, still clasping his wand. She squeezed gently. “Really, James. Thank you.”
James leant forward until his forehead rested on hers, their noses nudging together. “Always, Evans. Always.”