The Sugar Quill
Author: Newbia The Elf  Story: Shoulder To Lean On  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

Subject: Re: D Quitting

//Author’s Notes: I refer to a diary of Lily’s. The diary I’m referring to is from another fanfic of mine on, called, “A Lot More Of Snape Than I Ever Wanted To See.” This takes place towards the beginning of 7th year. //

I sat on a large boulder, staring out into the deep waters of the lake. I wished it was an ocean. That way I could try to look for the other side forever, instead of just getting to the opposite shore and being disappointed by some mountains, making me have to think again.

 Everyone kept asking me what was wrong all day, and I kept wishing that they would leave me alone. But now that I was alone, I felt empty inside and wished somebody would come and talk to me.

I should have been careful what I wished for. I didn’t want James anywhere NEAR me! Somebody up there was having a laugh that the person who came to comfort me was such a snob. I had never quite gotten over what a jerk he could be, partially because I wrote everything down in my diary. I would casually flip through it and the incident that took place after our O.W.L.s with Snape would hit me in the face.

I forgave James silently, because he did honestly try to be nicer, if only for my sake and not because he felt guilty in the slightest. Slowly, we started to be friends again, like we had been in third year. But, always, just as I was becoming friendly with him and starting to relax, Snivellus would walk by and then BOOM, just like that James is back to his old self and our friendship crashed, or I flip through my diary and BOOM it's that horrible day again. Now, after so many BOOMs you'd think James would get the picture that no, I do not want to date you and yes, I do want to hex you. So why in the world would he be bothering ME? I just want to be left alone, but he came and sat next to me, trying to be sympathetic.

I had recognized his strut and realized it was James before he sat down. I knew a lot about James, because before fourth year we had been good friends. I even had a bit of a crush on him. But when we became teenagers, the rest of the student body started to want to date and forgot about cooties, so James became very popular with the ladies very quickly. His head swelled to the size of a watermelon and he realized he controlled the school just as I realized what a jerk he was becoming, and I stopped being friends with him.

James stopped as though he had just seen me, and looked worried.

“Um, are you alright, Evans?” he asked.

I must have an amazed expression on my face, because James looked really annoyed.

 “Yes, it’s a miracle, I can tell when people have feelings,” he said.

“I know you can sense other people’s feelings, you just choose to ignore them,” I snapped. I suddenly wanted to be alone again.

 “Jeez, I just wanted to go and relax at the lake before Quidditch practice starts. Can I sit here, Evans?”

“Sure,” I said quietly, wanting to apologize for snapping at him, but I was in such a bad mood that I found a fault in every thing he did, from how he kept saying my name even though we were alone to how justifiably crabby he looked when I snapped at him. I moved over a bit, and the newspaper I had stuffed into my pocket crinkled. I took it out, and paused for a moment to read the headline for the 100th time.


This was when You-Know-Who had only just started rising to power, and people were still brave enough to say his name. I gave a shuddering sigh and smoothed the paper over and put it in a pocket again. It didn’t make as much noise as before.

 “But you live in Kensington, don’t you?” asked James nonchalantly, noticing the headline as well.  “I don’t see what you’re so upset about, Evans.”

I glared at him, infuriated. “Yes, nothing wrong about dozens of Muggles being killed, it doesn’t affect me so why should I care? Even if my sister is one of them.”

“You have a sister?” asked James, looking surprised and a bit guilty.

"Yes," I snapped, "Petunia, remember?"

"Oh yes, Pet! You didn’t talk about her much. Why, doesn't she live with your parents?"

"No. She's already 23, and she moved to Little Whinging to live with her husband."

            “Oh,” James sad.

He looked so sad that I quickly said, “But I don’t think she was hurt. She was on her honeymoon at the time . . .I think.” My voice started to crack a little. “She hasn’t owled me or anything. Pet never liked the idea of wizardry, and having her town pillaged while she’s away won’t make her warm up to it any more.”

            “Oh,” James repeated, irritating me. “But she probably didn’t send an owl because she doesn’t have one. I’m sure she’s alright.”

I felt a little better and stopped sniffing, but my vision was still blurry. I wished James would go away. I was glad that he seemed to actually care, instead of just being nice to me in hopes that I would reciprocate with a date, but far from making me feel better I was starting to become sick with nerves.

            “No news is good news,” said James cheerfully, clasping my hand. “For all we know-”

            “She’s already dead.”

James looked nervous and stuttered, “Uh, no . . .”

            We both sat in silence for a while. I contemplated what had happened to Petunia and how uncharacteristically nice James was being, and I suppose he was trying to think of ways to cheer me up.

            After a minute, James piped up, “Lily, if you need . . .” he seemed to struggle to find something to say, “a shoulder to lean on, or something, you should always know . . .”

            I looked up, feeling like smiling for the first time since breakfast. James wasn’t good at making people feel better, but you could tell when he was sincere, and that made me feel better than any crowd-pleasing prose Shakespeare could think up.

            “ . . .that I am here. Even if you don’t like me back, I’ll always care for you.”

            I paused, staring into James’ eyes, and then buried my face into James’ chest, tears running down my cheeks.

            “Thank you,” I whispered.

            “Y-you don’t have to cry,” James said nervously.

I realized that even if he was a jerk I had still known him for all the time I was at Hogwarts, and before he became popular he had always been the one who hung out with the Muggle-borns and outcasts. It wasn’t to look like a tolerant hero or something like that, it was just his nature. He may have been ruthless to his enemies, but he was always the hero to his friends. I couldn’t think of any good words to express my feelings of gratitude, so I gasped out a lame, “N-no, I’m fine. You’re very nice.”

            He probably didn’t think it was lame, because he smiled, reassured, and held me. We stayed still for a while, just holding each other. It was very, very nice.

the end

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