August [j.p]

009- No other sadness

Stood on the cliffside
Screaming "Give me a reason"
Your faithless love's the only hoax
I believe in
-
hoax

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"I'm sad"

August looked up from her sheet music to see James Potter climbing into her window.

It all seemed like deja-vu.

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"We need to talk."

"Okay" she gulped.

"Let's, uh- let's forget what happened."

"Forget what happened?" She asked incredulously, "James we had sex. Twice. How am I supposed to forget it like it never happened?"

He threw his arms up in the air in frustration.

"I don't know August, but you'll have to find a way because to me, it didn't happen. Doesn't exist." He snapped his fingers. "Done, like that. So let's forget about it and be friends again."

"Are you fucking with me?" She laughed "Because if you're suggesting that I'm a quick fuck that you can just add to your list of names then I'm going to kill you."

"No" James sighed in exasperation "And there isn't a list of names, you're the first."

She was dumbfounded, utterly gobsmacked.

"What?" She shook her head and sat down on the bed in shock. "You didn't tell me that."

August suddenly felt really bad, she'd taken his virginity and she didn't even know. If she did, she would've tried to make it more memorable, not just some shag by the lake.

"Oh James" she grabbed his face in her hands, "If you told me." She trailed off.

James looked at the girl infront of him, after the high of sex wore off, all he could think of was Lily and how he betrayed her.

But looking at August, all his guilt and shame melted away in adoration.

How dare he treat her like a quick shag when it had been so special to him.

"Just kiss me" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

His lips collided with hers hard and fast. His tongue outlined the shape of her cupids bow until she let out a throaty moan and he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

August felt his hands fist her nightgown and she reciprocated by pulling at his shirt. He backed her against the bedroom wall and she felt the pictures she had stuck up over the years behind her. But she couldn't bring herself to care that she was making out with someone against her wall of childhood memories.

His mouth was rough on hers and they were both breathless as they grabbed onto one another desperately.

James's fingers were digging into her hips so hard she felt bruises form. Slowly the desperate kiss melted away into their lips brushing against one another's lightly. Between shaking breaths they held one another, her fingers fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck.

And that was when August realized that in his kiss, she was home.

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"Why are you sad, James?"

"I can't tell you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Comfort" he made himself comfortable on the bed behind her.

"Wrong place, buddy."

"And to think, all I wanted was a place to cry without having my manliness tested."

"Again, wrong place buddy. Besides what could be wrong in the perfect life of James Potter?Did Black eat all the chocolate frogs?" She said absentmindedly as she thumbed through the pages filled with notes.

She wanted to finish writing but it looked like James Potter was going to put an end to her peaceful night.

"Actually that was Moony- er, Remus. Ans my life is not perfect."

"Pretty perfect compared to mine" she muttered.

"What's this." James picked the pages decorated with her handwriting.

Lily's handwriting was always neat and precise, notes taken with intent. Whereas, August's handwriting was a scrawl of big letters that molded into small ones. Even her handwriting looked confident.

"It's nothing." She made to grab the sheet away from him but his quick reactions made him hold it above his head.

"August Williams, you big old sap. Writing music."

She succeeded in grabbing the sheet from him.

"You do realize we're the same height."

"Go on, play it for me." James demanded.

"Absolutely not, you don't understand my genius."

She walked over to the state of art piano in the corner of the room and placed her piece in the small compartment underneath the seat cushion.

James watched as she handled the piano with the utmost care, a fondness twinkling in her eyes.

"You love it, don't you?"

"What?" She spun around shocked.

August misheard and was under the impression that James just asked her is she loved him.

"The piano" James said slowly, confused by her initial reaction.

"Oh" she breathed out a sigh of relief, "Yes"

"Enough to do it as a career?" He walked over to the instrument and traced his finger over the keys.

"It's just a dream, not one that'll come true. I already have my internship with the Minister of France for next year."

James frowned, "Impressive. Is ministry really what you see yourself doing?"

"It is what is expected of me" She sighed.

"You don't have to do what your mother tells you to do August."

"It's more complicated than that, James."

"No, it doesn't seem like it is."

Irritation coated her features, "It's more complicated than that James, because the only way I can provide for myself and make a living for myself without needing to leach off my mother is to make my own way. And playing a piano certainly won't do that for me. I don't have a loving home to go to, I don't want to stay here and so, I need to leave."

"Teach me?" He asked, nodding to the piano.

August laughed, "That's exactly what I said 12 years ago to my grand-mère Marjorie."

"And what did she do." James looked at her with wonder.

How magnificent she was.

"She taught me."

August sat down and patted the space next to her.

The seat was far too small for both of them, but they made do with August's leg slung over his thigh and her hands on-top of his showing him how to play.

August thought that it was some sort of cruel irony, she was teaching the boy who made her feel so played, how to play something else. Something sacred to her.

He already had so much of her, what did it matter if she gave this part of herself to him too.