38. sweet dream was over

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April 1976

SHE WAS GONE before April started.

He didn't know where. He didn't know if she was coming back. He didn't know what to do with himself.

He loved her.

He was in love with her.

And it was the easiest thing he had ever done—fall for her.

Nothing could have prepared him for the gut-wrenching heartache that followed her disappearance. Not even a million rejections from Lily Evans in the years prior to knowing her.

She hurt him more than he could have possibly dreamed.




May 1976

HE HOPED SHE was lying. He hoped she would come back to him. He hoped she was just playing some type of cruel prank on him and would eventually tell him so. That would be better than for her to actually have told the truth. That it wasn't real. That it was never real.

It was real to him.

He wanted her back.




June 1976

HE WROTE HER letters nearly every day.

He would talk about Quidditch sometimes. Or how his family was doing. Or about news from her favorite band when they had announced they were coming out with an album.

Sometimes he would talk about how much he missed her.

He didn't do it often because he didn't want to make her feel bad and think that he wouldn't take her back.

He would.

He would take her back every single time.




July 1976

HIS FRIENDS WERE worried about him.

He wasn't himself. He hadn't been himself for months. They didn't know what happened. They didn't know what to do. He wouldn't tell them anything. All they knew was that he was the happiest they had ever seen him at the start of term and then suddenly it was like someone pushed him off of his high horse back in April.

And he was stuck on the ground, refusing to get up no matter who tried to help him.

Day after day, he locked himself into his room. His friends tried to coax him out; he didn't budge. He didn't move from his bed. He wanted to be alone.

It had been months. Why couldn't he move on?




August 1976

HIS FRIENDS HAD convinced him to go to a muggle band's concert with them.

It reminded him of her.

Lily Evans was there too.

She stood with them the entire time.

She smiled at him.

She brushed her hand over his.

She kissed him.

He let her.

Because for the first time in months, he didn't feel so alone anymore.




September 1976

HE ASKED LILY Evans to be his girlfriend a few weeks into sixth year.

He didn't love her. He couldn't. He didn't know if it was possible to love anyone after her.

But he tried. He tried with everything in him.

He bought Lily Evans flowers. He planned out dates for her. He protected her from other guys. He hugged her and kissed her and worshipped her.

But every time he touched Lily Evans, he thought of the girl whose sweet laugh still echoed in his ears and whose smell still lingered in the air.




October 1976

SOMETIMES, HE COULDN'T believe that there had once been a girl like her in his life. That he had once held her body and touched her face and planted soft kisses on her skin.

Sometimes, he started to think it was all just a dream.

One that he had to wake up from.




November 1976

IT HAD BEEN exactly one year.

One year since that fateful day at Hogsmeade. One year since the first time he had kissed her.

Lily Evans wanted to go out with him on a date. He agreed. He had fun. Lily Evans was fun. He understood why he had been infatuated with her before.

Lily Evans made him forget about her.

The girl who broke him to pieces.

The girl who ripped out his heart straight from his chest.

The girl who clearly didn't give a flying fuck about what she had done to him.

The girl who left him bleeding and bleeding and bleeding and then. Empty.

And suddenly, as Lily Evans kissed and sucked the side of his throat, he refused to let the girl he had once loved keep his heart. No, he was taking it back. Ripping it right out of her hands.

He was going to keep his heart to himself. He was never going to share it with anyone again. Not when he had felt like this the one time he had given it away.

He was not going to think of her. He was not going to let her consume him any longer.

He hated her. He hated her with everything in him. He hated her more than he had hated anyone in his life.

If she ever came back, he was going to show her how deep his hatred for her ran. He was going to make her believe that he didn't need her.

And maybe, as he tilted Lily Evans's head to press his mouth against hers, maybe he would one day believe himself.

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, james potterWhere stories live. Discover now