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Throwing Stones


It seemed like it had only been minutes since he’d fallen asleep when James felt Bubo’s beak pulling at his ear lobe to wake him up. He tried waving her off at first, but she was relentless, and finally he’d rolled over and Bubo had dropped a letter onto the bed beside him. It was in Lily Evans’s handwriting and a leap of excitement twisted James’s stomach and he grabbed it up, tearing open the envelope with a rush of joy. He couldn’t imagine what she would possibly have sent him - but it was enough to get his blood pumping just seeing the curl of the J in his name in her writing. So he took the parchment out of the envelope, and he shook it out quickly, his heart thumping with expectations… and his eyes hastened to go over the letter:

Dear James,
I know what you did.
I can’t believe how terrible a mistake I almost made, falling for your charm! A load of lies and pretty magic. You’re a horrible person, and until things change I don’t know that I can even look at you. I’m so angry!
Lily Evans



He stared at it, positively dumbfounded. If she hadn’t have dated it in the top corner, he would’ve wondered if Bubo had somehow lost this letter from some time ago and perhaps this was something out of context. His hand shook and he wondered what had changed her mind about him this time. What had he done?

And even as he thought the words, he knew.

“Snape,” he whispered.




James Potter stood in the snow outside of Lily Evans’s house, his trainers soaked through and his nose red from the frigid air. It was so cold that his breath hung before him in great billowing puffs and he patted his hands together to stay warm. He stared up at the window that he was fairly certain was Lily’s, and looked up as Bubo landed on his shoulder. “Here,” he said to the owl as she clicked her beak around the note he held out to her, “Deliver this up there to Evans.”

The bird took off from his shoulder and circled ‘round about him for a moment before landing on exactly the window sill he’d been staring at and pecked her beak against the glass. James stared up, rubbing his fingers together and blowing his breath between them.

It was early - possible that Evans wasn’t even up yet. The sun was barely up, for that matter, but he’d received that letter from Lily the night before, and James Potter had not slept a single wink that night for all the sickness in his stomach. James had been thinking about what Sirius Black had said about how mental he was for not kissing Evans when he had the chance - he should have done, especially now in retrospect. There was nothing to it - Severus Snape had to have lied to her about what happened. It was so obvious to him. But he had the proof that Snape had attacked him all over his face in great bruises and the cut lip. He knew it looked bad - his mum and Sirius had both let out exclamations of horror when they’d seen it. Surely Lily Evans would understand and tell him she didn’t mean all she’d written in that letter once he had the chance to explain to her what happened.

Finally, he’d just left a note for his mum and he’d snuck off before morning light to go and collect his kiss from Lily.

He just hoped she’d think it was romantic that he couldn’t wait another minute.

Bubo pecked the glass again and there was a shadow that cast over the glass and there was Lily, bundling a sweater ‘round her shoulders as she pulled open the window and took the note from the owl. She looked it over.

Look down.

Lily looked down. And there in the glistening snow stood James, staring up at her hopefully, his hair messy and glasses eternally crooked on his nose.

“Go home Potter,” she said just loudly enough for him to hear her.

“Come talk to me,” he countered.

“I’m not talking to you,” Lily snapped.

“Evans, please. I can explain.”

Her face went quite red and she ducked into the window and closed it. A moment later, she opened it again and chucked Bubo out, then closed it again. “Evans!” he cried, desperate, “Please!” but she was gone from the glass. Bubo looked quite angry and she flew off without even trying to go to James for her owl treat, landing in a tree in the neighbor’s yard, ruffling up her feathers in annoyance.

James looked for a stone to toss to the window, like they did in films and whatever, and he finally found one and he threw it with his excellent quaffle-chucking arm and the pebble bounced off the pane with a click. He quickly grabbed a couple more and proceeded to repeat the process again… and again…

“Stop throwing stones,” Lily snapped, suddenly appearing beside him from ‘round the side of the house. She had pulled on a coat and shoved her feet into wellingtons right over her pyjama sweatpants and she stood there before him with her arms crossed over her chest, her nose already turning pink from the cold air. “You’ll break my window and I’ll have to hear it from my mum and I’ll be right pissed a you.”

“Are you a witch or what? Even if I did break your window you could reparo it in no time flat and --”

She interrupted him with a stern tone, “You have, like, thirty seconds, so begin your lying, Potter.”

“Lying? Blimey, Evans.” He shook his head. “Listen, I dunno what Severus Snape told you --”

“The truth, I’m sure,” Lily muttered.

“-- but he attacked me,” James said. “Look at my face. You think I just woke up like this?”

Lily said, “You look better than he does.”

“Are you saying I look good Evans?” James smirked playfully.

Lily was having none of it. She glowered at him. “I’m saying he looks so bad that he even looks worse than you, Potter,” she replied. Then, “You’re down to twenty-five seconds by the way.”

“What?” James’s face folded into true confusion, “Evans, look, that can’t be, I didn’t really do anything. I mean I stung his wrists a bit but honestly --”

“James.” Her voice was very sharp, warning, and he blinked in surprise at it.

He hated the way she was saying his name, with a contempt to it, like he was being three-named by his mum when he was a bad boy as a child. He stared at her with a sad expression.

“You did not just sting his wrists a bit. His nose was broken, there was blood pouring from his mouth, he had bruises -- James, he was a mess.”

James shook his head, “No. He wasn’t. He was fine. I - I didn’t --- bloody hell, did that sick bastard do it to himself just to make me look bad?”

“Yes, James, he hexed himself, just to make you look bad.” Lily rolled her eyes.

“Evans…” he said pleadingly. “I swear, I didn’t do it.”

“Twenty seconds, Potter.”

“Fine! Evans, you wanna know what happened, exactly? I left you and I walked over to that park ‘round the corner here on cloud nine - I was bloody the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life - and I was about to summon the Knight Bus, but as I walked up, I saw him, standing there in the park, waiting, and when I got close enough, he waved his wand, shut out all the lights. Yeah, I called him Snivellus, I admit that, but then he hexed me. He hexed me first. So I tried to stupefy him, but he dodged it and mocked me and tried to hit me again and again… I cast a shield charm, he tried again, then he hit me with a shoving spell and I got hurt when fell over that bloody rooster thing out there.” He reached down and yanked the ankle of his pants up for her to see the bruising on his shin as proof. “Then he started talking about you like you were a possession that he’s earned, like he bleeding owns you, Evans, and I told him he doesn’t own you, that you’re not a possession, and he got right pissed. He started… I dunno, messing with my brain, it was really odd, and whatever I did, I couldn’t stop him from it, and he was about to find out about Remus so I hit him with one pugnus spell. And yes, it hit him in the mouth but it was the only way to get him out of my head, to protect Remus! I didn’t do anything else than that. He knocked me down and I fell and he came at me and I surrendered. I put my wand down and when he ceded, I left. I got on the night bus and I went home and so help me Merlin, Evans, that is the truth.”

Lily stared at him for several long seconds, then she turned on her heel and she walked back toward the house.

“Evans!” James cried, trotting after her, “Wait. Please.”

“I gave you thirty seconds, Potter, and I’m done listening to your rubbish.”

“It isn’t rubbish!”

Lily paused at the doorway.

She wanted James Potter to be telling the truth, at least about the part where he was innocent, so she could go back there and let him hug her again like he had in the hamburger shop. She wanted to believe him…

But believing him meant not believing Severus Snape.

Believing him meant turning her back on Snape, meant betraying him, meant that he had lied so ferociously that he was willing to physically injure himself on purpose just to provide proof to a thing that never happened. Believing James meant having to face the very, very painful fact that the boy she’d been best friends with, who had promised her he would always catch her if she fell, was not her friend any more, that Severus Snape really was every terrible thing that everyone had always believed him to be.

She had to make a choice - James or Severus.

And she didn’t know how to.

She couldn’t yet.

Not yet.

She knew eventually she would have to, knew eventually she wouldn’t have a choice but to, but that day was not today and right now she was not prepared to do it. She wanted things to be different, wanted it to be easy.

And it should’ve been easy, she thought, looking at James’s sad eyes staring up at her from the lawn, where he stood in the snow, his shoulders slumped and lip trembling.

But it wasn’t.

And she closed the door.