disclaimer: I own the story line and Mason Dobnecker, es todo.

update: lily dealing with hogsmeade trauma. James dealing with lady trauma.

a/n: I hope you all really really enjoy this, cuz i absolutely LOVE writing this story. feedback please! And i want to apologize for, well... leaving this story a lone for SO long. Its been a crazy year. hope you enjoy and sorry again that it is so short. I figured I should at least post something. :)

please review!

Abarraine.February 14.2008.Hard to be Faithful.


His breath hitched in his throat as her fingers drew sensuous circles on his neckline. His eyes grew heavy as her body pressed against his and her hands traversed down his back and into his hair sending unwanted shivers down his spine and goosebumps on his skin. Her breath was intoxicating; mint and ginger overwhelmed his senses. His eyelashes fluttered down for a moment, enveloping him in a tantalizing darkness. And yet, her scarlet lips had not penetrated his resistance. His hands had not found their way to her flaunting hips. He stood stock still, as a statue, his mind screaming at him to move, step away, pull away, but altogether he was frozen by her sumptuous aura.

His breathing was heavy as he fixed his eyes away from every divine curve of her face. She ran her slender fingers through his mane, inciting a desire inside him that James did not know he possessed. He felt like he was suffocating. She wasn't relenting and his stamina was being overtaken by her vixen-like ways. Her lips ran themselves against his collarbone, finding the skin soft and warm. She traveled up his neck, sucking on his open skin. She could feel his body relaxing and she grinned into him….


"Take this medication with every meal – eat every meal – for the next two weeks and it'll strengthen that old bone right up, dear! Now you may scoot out of here. And don't be hard on it; do you remember what I told you? No running, dancing, skipping, broom riding, speed-walking, …"

"…jumping, leaping, vaulting, skating – even though it's March and rainy, and absolutely no exerting myself, for the next five years of my life." Lily finished Madam Aatje's rant with faded exuberance as the mediwitch looked down on her with contempt. Lily produced a quick half smile and all but threw the covers back over her strawberry head.

"We'll see your condition in the morning, Lily. Sleep now." And with those utterly vague words about the time of her wonderous departure, Aatje slipped back into her office.

Lily lay in bed, tossing and turning for hours. She had slept a bit, but nightmares had plagued her. The white room seemed to be closing in on her, the rows of beds and nicely made identical beds caused for an OCD-like fear to overcome her. She needed to get out. She needed her bed. She needed Amelia. She couldn't stare at the empty beds any longer, nor listen to the howling of the wind through the cracks in the stone. She was creeped out and all she wanted was a hug after a horrendous day!

Only one choice left: master the excursion back to the tower of Gryffindor. With a determined smile and fortitude. Lily grabbed an extra blanket off her bed and limped out the door to freedom.

The cool, moist fresh air collided instantly with her face, sending shivers down her spine as she stepped out of the stuffy infirmary. Lily sighed with relief and concentrated with all her might on the task before her. Lily mustered up her strength as she limped up the revolving staircase. Her head was still fuzzy from the pain that radiated inside her ankle. She should have taken the pain solution that Aatje kept forcing on her. But she couldn't, she hated potions, every one had a slight defect and affected your body in such preposterous ways that Lily, being the wiz in Potions, decided she never wanted to risk. Just think, the pepper-up potion made you steam like a ridiculous train for the next day or two. Who wanted to go from class to class with such a catastrophe in your ears? Lily sure didn't.

She grasped the railing and stopped every few steps to muster the strength to continue in her trek. She cursed herself for being so stubborn when it came to inhaling potions, but she knew that the result, the non-absorption of toxic chemicals, would eventually be worth it. Or at least she hoped beyond all that was good that it would be worth it.

The chilly March air whipped through her light robes and caught in her hair, sending an anxious amount of shivers through her body. She was sweating from exertion and prayed that the staircase wouldn't shift and provide more of a trek for her. She could feel her anemic body plunging into depths of weakness and cold. She just needed to be warm in her comforter, buried deep in the depths so that no one would know she was there, and no one would bother her.

"Why is life so damn difficult?" Lily muttered as she resumed her climb. The end of the stairs came as she diligently continued. She sat on the utmost step to catch her breath, hoping that someone would walk past at this ridiculous hour of two in the morning and help her along. Gah, if only she had her mirror to signal James, he'd probably get out of his comfort to rescue her. Come to think of it, she still had her wand; she could try and summon him with her remaining strength….

She heaved herself, tediously, off the slimy stairs and trudged on, knowing that it was fruitless to spend so much time lingering in self-pity and the hopes that she somehow had enough strength to cast a powerful summons charm; impossible. She'd have to make it to the Gryffindor tower on her own, that much power she could expend – she could stop and rest when needed, no trouble whatsoever.

She was full of bullocks.

About 45 minutes later Lily was shivering and damp from a combination of sweat, humidity and a returning fever. Her foot was throbbing and likely to re-break. She slammed her body gently against a stonewall to catch her breath. She glanced around at her bearings, only to be overcome with a shock of fear – she had no idea where she was. She had taken a wrong turn, the stairs must have moved - she was lost. In her haziness and pain, her head swiveled around for some distinguishing mark. Her body flew to action as she tried to haul herself up into a standing position. The movement was too sudden for her. She gripped the wall and closed her emerald eyes. The world was in a whirlwind and everything was up in a turvy. She opened her eyes again only to be met with blackness and a light feeling that overtook her whole body. With fear and an inkling of relief, Lily welcomed the silent darkness.


Amelia moaned into him as James shivered. Her scent was filling his nose and masking his visions of Lily and her flowing red locks. He felt his mind was going numb as her hands tingled along his neckline. Lily's smile and twinkling eyes faded into the vast nothing of this dizziness. He could almost feel Amelia grinning into him as she melted into his embrace. She ran her hands down to his waist, lingering along his stomach then began to fiddle with his belt buckle, whipping James out of his fuzzy nightmare where little self-control lingered into hyper mode and all but shoved Amelia away. She slammed into his desk, causing his ink to shatter and cover his portrait of the tantalizing woman on the shore. His hard work ruined.

Ameila glanced up at him, in awe of his power and aggressiveness. James was standing there, stunned and trained on his ruined portrait. As she stepped forward he came into action and side stepped her and picked up his portrait from the growing puddle of black ink. His jaw went tight as he looked at the ruined picture and all but threw it to the ground, only for Amelia to pick up.

There they were, intent on two different goals: Amelia wanted him, he wanted to lose her. He was stock still as she gazed at the ruined portrait, but she was still able to see the muse for his drawings, Lily. She quickly, as though struck, dropped the spiteful portrait and slapped James across the face with all her might.

"You dirty little bastard! How could you! How dare you love such a pitiful creature! How can you LOVE my friend!? James, How could you ruin me!" Amelia screamed in his face. Her hair was coming undone and her eyes were leaking a distinct amount of tears. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards her, "You would dare even look at that worthless mudblood when you could have me?" Amelia seethed not an inch from his stoic face. His jaw increased in tightness as he reiterated the words "mudblood, worthless, me" inside his head. He was breathing fire, but she hardly noticed as her anger burned brighter than even the bleeding sun.

"I would." He seethed. And she kissed him. She kissed him so hard her teeth sunk into his bottom lip and she grinned into him as they both felt the release of sticky blood, a sharp iron taste of a botched kiss.

James flinched remarkably and shoved the lithe girl off him. She stumbled once again into his dresser and her bare feet trampled over his portrait, tearing a whole in the place where his woman had resided.

"You fucking bastard, come back here!" Amelia screamed as he slammed the door, exiting the Marauder's Lair and stomped down the stairs. He fumbled with his wand in his pocket as his other hand felt his burning lip. His fingertips were covered with syrupy blood. His attention was stuck on his fingers, on how his 'fiancé' could inflict so much pain upon him. Emotionally and physically, he was plagued.

"What the hell!?" James whipped around at the sound of the voice behind him. It was Sirius, rising from his seat near the fire. He had been doing some late night studying when he'd spotted his battered best mate stumbling down the staircase. "What the hell, James, get in a fight with a boggart?" Sirius stepped up to James and examined the red welt that ran across his cheekbone and his ripped lips. James glared openly to the room, seeing right past Sirius. His anger radiated and his blood pulsed wildly through his veins. He shoved past Sirius, hardly recognizing his best friend and flew through the porthole, leaving a stunned Sirius in his wake.

James' mind reeled from the last few minutes. Not only had he felt complete and utter hate towards another soul, but also for his soul. He had been tempted and fallen to the likes of Amelia Bones. He, even though his mind longed for a certain other, couldn't stop the racing his heart took when Amelia ran her hands over his face, neck and back. He thought he was invincible to her siren ways; he had always been able to distract himself with other thoughts. But just now, alone, he had been broken. And it scared the living shit out of him.

Someone could control him.

As he marched through the deserted hallways, muttering profanities attached to the Bones' name, he came upon a sight that stopped him in his tracks.

There, in a huddled mess, was the catalyst of the night's events. The figure was tiny and curled; he would have mistaken her for just a black mass if he hadn't noticed the moonlight streaming over the red pools of hair strewn across the cobblestone. James' mind went into overdrive for the second time that night. His heart hammered in his chest, but the beat was a more of a tender fear than the plaguing fear that Amelia had left him. His mind raced immediately to the reasons of why she would be here at such an hour – was she attacked by some mudblood hating Slytherin? Was there a perverted boy hanging around nearby and had just defiled his Lily? Anger once again surged through his body. He swooped down and gathered the girl into his arms. He noticed her damp skin and the unnatural heat that radiated from her. He held her sweaty head underneath his chin, kissed her forehead, and headed hurriedly towards Madame Aatje.

short. yes. i'm sorry. but at least i managed to get this uploaded!

review and ill write... more incentive the more progress i make!

love,

Abarraine