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Prologue: Fourth Year
It started in fourth year. At the end of it. After she had begun developing the curves of womanhood, and he had grown at least half a foot. And an ego. Oh, what an ego.
They were not in a relationship.
She wanted to tell someone about the emptiness, the loneliness, the ice that consumed her.
Sixth Year, Part One
Everything he did made her better. Intentionally or not.
Sixth Year, Part Two
But now, here it was, glaring at her, waving a giant red sign and screaming at the top of its lungs. She could no longer bury it, or ignore it. It was here, and it demanded attention.
Sixth Year, Part Three
One, she thought, had to be the best number ever invented.
Sixth Year, Part Four
He inhaled her scent again, completely wrapped up in the presence of her. He could feel her breath on his skin, and that was all he needed. He had found her, he realized, and both of them were gone now. Off to the secret, magical, perfect place that existed when they were together. They were a million miles away, together in his bed.
The three-day-flu was always vicious. It was always stealthy. It was always marked by a single sneeze. It always lasted exactly three days. And it always had impeccably awful timing.
Seventh Year, Part One
When he thought about her, and when he thought about him, and when he thought about the two of them together, it didn't make sense.
Seventh Year, Part Two
And finally, we are back to the beginning
Seventh Year, Part Three
She wakes early the next morning. The first thing in her head is a desperate hope that she has only had a terrible, terrible dream. The faint smell of James again creeping into her nostrils and the dampness of her pillow remind her that the previous nights events were, in fact, real.
Seventh Year, Part Four
Tonight, the tears stop flowing far more quickly than she expects. There is no dramatic conclusion or spectacular finality; they simply stop. One moment she is sobbing uncontrollably, and the next she is simply staring. They have been consistently shorter each night, but Lily finds it odd, that after the events of the evening it should be the shortest yet.
Seventh Year, Part Five
She sees her opportunity, and immediately decides to act on it. She rises, despite the strange looks she is receiving. “Potter!” she yells.
Seventh Year, Part Too Many
But this, she decides as the tear splashes on her knee, is the last tear she will shed for James Potter.
Seventh Year, Part Really?
Where they are now isn’t the perfect place, and it isn’t where either of them wants to be, but it’s nice. It’s a piece of beautiful scenery on the bumpy road to somewhere amazing.
Seventh Year, The End
She loves the butterflies he gives her and the blush he puts in her face. She, though she would never admit it, loves the fact that he makes her nervous.
Epilogue: For the Rest of Eternity
It is a splendid eternity.
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