Author's Note: This story is a sequel to my other story "Hairy Snout, Human Heart". You don't necessarily have to read that in order to understand this story. If you're not interested, then here's a little summary of the things that happened in "Hairy Snout, Human Heart" and are important. It's also for everyone else who has already forgotten what happened so far:

James Potter left Hogwarts after his fifth year to go to a Quidditch Academy because he wanted to train to become a professional Quidditch player. When Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew started their sixth year at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin was finally accepted there, too. Sirius, who did not take James' absence very well and was also still traumatised from running away from home during the summer holidays, behaved like an idiot and chose the new student Remus to release his frustration by bullying him. But at some point, Sirius could not take it anymore and broke down in front of Remus -- who comforted him. They became friends and later realised they were in love with each other. When Remus finally revealed to Sirius that he was a werewolf, Sirius completely freaked out at first. After several weeks of not talking to each other and much research on werewolves from Sirius' part, he understood that it was perfectly okay to love werewolves and after a lovely speech from Sirius (which he had copied from a book), they reconciled again.

That's where "Hairy Snout, Human Heart" left off. "Wanderings with Werewolves" takes place during the end of their sixth and throughout their seventh year at Hogwarts, it also deals with the time of the first war against You-Know-Who and the tragic events of Halloween 1981. There will be an AU (alternate universe) take on the third book and I'll try not to kill Sirius off in the end (because several people begged me to write a happy ending).

Warning: I don't consider slash (homosexual romance) a warning, but in case you're homophobic, you probably shouldn't read this as this story contains two boys - later: men (Sirius/Remus) kissing and having sex with each other. I think there shouldn't be a difference between heterosexual and homosexual relationships, so I'll warn you of the heterosexual romance between James and Lily, too.

The rating is M (mature) mainly for safety. It's in relation to the whole story, so don't expect anything of an adult nature right away. If you are here just for the smut, sorry it will be a long wait. I don't plan to write extremely graphic sex scenes. There will be 'tame' sex scenes but always in relation to the plot (I hope).

Disclaimer: I don't make money with this story. Everything recognisable belongs to J.K. Rowling. The title of this story doesn't belong to me either; it belongs to the amazing, gorgeous, intelligent, beautiful, brave, sexy Gilderoy Lockhart. (In case you're wondering: No, the book "Wandering with Werewolves" won't be as important as the book "Hairy Snout, Human Heart" was in my other story. I just thought it was funny to name the sequel after a book from the HP series, too.)

Beta-reader: mokubahv. Many thanks to you but also to everyone else who offered to beta-read for me (Sakura evil twin of Sango, Polymnia Glamour, Swordy123, dark-night-sky, Anonymous Fluff, GuardianOfTime808, 5redroses, reeltreble1031... Sorry if I forgot anyone or misspelled a name...). I was really touched to see how many people were willing to help me!

The last thing I have to say is sorry for this neverending author's note. Here comes the first chapter! (No need to worry about the girl in this chapter. You will never see her again. Neither James nor Sirius nor Remus nor Peter nor Snape nor Lily nor... will fall in love with her. I just needed someone to interact with James.)


Wanderings with Werewolves

by Wuff

Chapter 1

Why Do You Love Her?

It was the most important match of the year so far: The team from the British Youngsters Quidditch Academy versus their twin school from Germany. The British led ninety to twenty. They had the better team. They definitely had the better Chasers.

James Potter should have been happy about it. He should have been happy because his team was going to win. But he was not. Because James Potter had been sitting on the substitutes' bench for one and a half hours. To be precise, the subs bench had been his regular position for three whole matches in a row. There had only been one match this season where he had been allowed to play for the last fifteen minutes because one of the other Chasers had been badly hit by a Bludger. And then, the other two Chasers had hardly ever thrown the Quaffle to him. It was beyond frustrating. This was not the way it was meant to be. He was meant to be racing through the opposing ranks and scoring goal after goal. He was meant to be in the air. James Potter was a winner.

He clapped lazily when one of his team-mates scored another goal. James hardly thought of them as 'team-mates.' Utterly bored, he sucked on a sugar quill which Marilyn Biggle had given to him. Marilyn was the one at the Academy who came closest to being James' friend. James hardly thought about her as his 'friend,' though. Marilyn was not rebellious enough, she was not funny enough, she was not smart enough and she was not Marauder-ish enough. However, Marilyn was nice, she did not have the latest Quidditch sneakers yet and she was the substitute Keeper.

"Potter, Biggle!" their Quidditch coach snapped at them. "How often do I have to tell you: No eating during matches? You could be put on any minute!"

James and Marilyn exchanged an irritated look. Not likely. She had not been put on in any match yet. James had at least occasionally played for a few minutes. So why not sweeten their longsuffering existence with sugar quills?

Fortunately, their suffering ended soon because the opposing Seeker caught the Snitch. The British Youngsters had won nonetheless because they had had such a lead. While the German players ranted and raved at their Seeker for catching the Snitch too early and the British players congratulated each other, their coach assigned duties.

"Biggle, you're responsible for the laundry. Johnson, you get the drinks. Potter, you get the balls back inside. McLuhan, you tell the house elves to prepare dinner and tell Mr O'Hara to check the pitch and the rings."

Marilyn grimaced. "Why is it always me who has to collect their sweaty clothes?" she muttered to James. "Just because I'm a girl. It's so unfair!"

"I can help you when I'm ready," James offered. Marilyn was right: Their Quidditch coach was a bit sexist.

The four substitute players did as they were told. James went onto the Quidditch pitch, ignoring his 'team-mates', who were animatedly discussing the game (and ignored James just as much). Two of the Chasers were still on their brooms and showing off with all their tricks and talent. James grimaced. They were so arrogant. Wasn't it enough to score dozens of goals in the match? Couldn't they stop now?

"Hey! Flint, Hayden!" he shouted loudly up at them. "Could you give me the Quaffle now? I want to get the balls inside!"

"In a minute!" Clara Flint shouted back down at him.

Grinding his teeth together, James made to wrestle with the Bludgers first. When he was rolling on the ground with one of the vicious balls, something hit him hard in the face: the Quaffle.

"Uh, sorry!" Flint shouted, who landed gracefully with her Comet Two Forty. "I didn't see you were busy with the Bludgers." She and Hayden laughed. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," James ground out. Of course he wasn't fine. The Quaffle had smashed his glasses, causing them to be knocked off of his nose. He was totally helpless without his glasses. Disorientated, he tried to force the Bludger into the little cage first and then crawled around on all fours, patting the grass with his hands in search for his glasses.

"Was macht der denn da?" he heard a German girl's voice.

He looked up to see the blurred outlines of three... well, people. He blinked harder and recognised them as three girls from the German team.

"Sieht'n bisschen aus wie 'ne Eule, oder?" another one of the girls said and the other two erupted into very girly giggles.

Great, that's really what I need now, James thought angrily. People laughing at me because I lost my glasses. He kept furiously combing the grass with his fingers until he finally hit something sharp.

"Ouch," he mumbled, and put his damaged glasses back on his nose. Unfortunately, the glass of one side had been fragmented.

"Eine Eule, die gegen ein Fenster geflogen ist," the girl continued, and even shriller giggles followed.

"Aber 'ne süße Eule," the third girl said. Giggle, giggle, giggle...

"Go do the laundry," James growled at them. "Suits you better. Stupid girls -- I wonder how you manage to stay on your broomsticks long enough when you're giggling all the time."

"Was hat er gesagt?"

"Hab ich nicht verstanden. Er hat so schnell gesprochen. Klang aber nicht besonders nett." Giggle, giggle, giggle…

When finally the three giggling girls had left him alone and he had caught all the balls and brought them back inside, he went into the laundry as he had promised Marilyn. A disgusting stench - the mixture of sweat and the sweet cleaning potion - met him when he entered the room.

"Hello there," Marilyn said in a sour voice while she enchanted the gigantic cauldrons to stir themselves. "You can spray Mess Remover into the sneakers."

"Oh, I see you left the most pleasant task for me," James said moodily, held his nose and grabbed the bottle of Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover to apply it generously onto the sneakers.

"What happened to your glasses?" Marilyn asked in a nicer voice now.

"Broken," James replied curtly.

"I can see that. Can't you mend them?"

"No, too much of the glass is lost." James sighed. Mum and Dad are going to kill me. One more set of glasses broken beyond repair. "I can still see perfectly with one eye and a little bit with the other. It works for the moment."

"Did you get any splinters in your eyes?" Marilyn asked concernedly.

"Dunno. It burns a bit but I don't think --"

"Let me see." Marilyn moved to stand in front of him and removed his twisted glasses so she could have a closer look at his eyes. She gently traced a finger over his eyebrow and temple and then...

Wait, why are her fingers on my cheek? I thought she wanted to check my eyes...? Marilyn's face moved closer and closer, and she gazed intently in his eyes. She had nice eyes, James noticed. But there was one problem: She did not have green eyes. Second problem: She did not have red hair. When her nice-looking (but too red) lips had arrived dangerously close to his, he awkwardly cleared his throat and firmly seized her shoulders to stop her.

"Er, Marilyn, if you, er, intend to kiss me, I'm sorry to say that I can't do that."

She chuckled nervously and, blushing deeply, she took a step back. "I - I just thought -- Well, I didn't see why you'd willingly help me with the laundry. I thought -- Why --"

"You see, I am already in love with someone," James said embarrassedly.

"Oh. Is she the one you've been sending all those letters to?"

"The letters are to Sirius, my friend."

"Oh." He eyes widened in surprise. "You're -- gay?!"

"Whoa-what?" James stared at her in shock. Where did she get such crazy ideas from? "No, I'm not. Merlin, I'm certainly not gay. Sirius is my friend, I mean, he's my friend."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh, offend you," Marilyn said quickly. "I didn't mean to say you're behaving in a gay way or something like that. I just misunderstood the things you said."

"Yeah, you did."

"So -- did you and that girl you're in love with go to Hogwarts together?"

"Yes."

"And you stayed together although you've been apart for almost a year now? Wow." She grinned awkwardly. "She's a lucky girl."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me again," James said, looking past her and picturing another girl in his mind. "We're not together. Have never been," he mumbled, sounding much more miserable than he intended.

"You're not--? But then why can't we--?" Marilyn said and nervously twirled a strand of hair around her finger. She was obviously very confused.

"Because I'm in love with her," James repeated. "I already told you that."

"And she doesn't know yet? Why don't you tell her? I'm sure she feels the same way about you."

James rolled his eyes. Girls could be really crazy sometimes. How could Marilyn be 'sure' that Lily returned his feelings although Marilyn did not even know her?! "Well, she does know how I feel," James said, pretending to be casual, "and I know she doesn't return my feelings."

"I'm sure you misunderstood her," Marilyn said in an encouraging voice. "Have you ever tried to ask her out?"

"Of course."

"Well, what did she say?"

"Her exact words were, I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the Giant Squid."

"The 'Giant Squid?' What exactly--?" Marilyn was even more confused now than before.

"The 'Giant Squid' is just that: a giant squid."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Well."

"Mmm."

"So you're still not over her yet?"

James blinked in annoyance (actually, he had blinked a lot during their conversation but most of the time it had been because of his impaired vision on his left eye). "Why would I want to get over her?"

"Because -- if she doesn't return your feelings-- Well, do you never want to have a girlfriend? Not even kiss another girl?" She even managed not to sound hopeful during that last statement.

"Nope. I want my first kiss to be with her," James declared, convinced.

"But I thought she didn't return your feelings?"

"Maybe she will. One day." One day in the distant future.

"And you want to wait until that day? Even if you aren't sure it's ever going to happen?"

"Of course I'll wait. I mean, I can't just spend my time with kissing other girls while I'm waiting for her, can I? I want to kiss her, you see? Not just anyone. And kissing other girls wouldn't help anyone: neither me nor her nor the other girls."

Then something really unexpected happened: Marilyn threw her arms around his neck and hugged him very tightly. It was only a hug between friends, nothing more, but James felt a bit uncomfortable nonetheless. "That's so sweet of you. She really is a lucky girl."

"Well," James frowned very hard and blinked a few more times. He did not really know what to make of this situation. "She'd certainly disagree with you on that." He shrugged and tried to subtly entangle himself from Marilyn's embrace.

She looked at him with a very odd expression. Like you would use when looking at a cute little Puffskein. "You're so romantic," she said, sounding wistful.

James just huffed indignantly. He had never pictured himself as romantic. Lily would certainly laugh her head off if anyone ever told her James Potter was 'romantic.' And yet Marilyn was not the first person who had told him that. Sirius had often accused him of being romantic, too. But contrary to Marilyn, he did not think it was 'sweet' but 'hopeless' and 'idiotic.'

"Why do you love her?" Marilyn asked curiously.

"Dunno." James thoughtfully removed his glasses and twisted them in his hands. "I just -- do, you know? She's just great. I suppose she's everything I'm not. She's always kind to everyone, even to little annoying first-years and Slytherins and outsiders; but then again, she can get very angry if someone treats someone else badly. She believes in fairness and such things. And she's intelligent and works hard for school and yet she isn't nerdy at all. No idea why not. It doesn't make much sense. But it's really like that. And she's helpful and nice and she fights for what she believes in."

"But you're nice to outsiders and all as well," Marilyn protested. "You were the only one here who -- included me. You talked to me and spent time together with me - and you help me with the laundry. No one else does it."

James's head reddened by that amount of praise. She was completely exaggerating! "Listen, Marilyn, I have not done much. I just talked to you when we were sitting on the subs bench together and I worked together with you during assignments because the others are too conceited and they probably don't want to have to do anything with us anyway -- I'm not nice. Not generally. Only to my friends."

"So we're friends?" Marilyn asked hopefully.

Something about that question tore at James's heartstrings. He remembered his first day in the Hogwarts Express with painful clarity. A young boy, dressed very properly in very expensive cloaks, and his black hair combed very properly in a very proper haircut, had burst into his compartment, flopped down in the seat next to him and said excitedly, 'Hello. I'm Sirius Black. Do you want to be my friend?' - 'Sure,' James had replied because he did not have a friend yet and you needed friends at school, right? Then Sirius had grinned widely at him and said enthusiastically, 'That's great.' James had never seen such a radiant and infectious grin on someone else before and somehow it did not fit at all to the boy's proper clothes and proper haircut. From then on, Sirius Black and James Potter had been best friends.

Now James mumbled, "Sure," too, in reply to Marilyn's question, although now he was seventeen years old and not eleven, and knew very well that you did not form friendships just like that. He also knew that Marilyn could never even remotely be what Sirius was to him.

--

Later that evening found James pacing restlessly in his room. Everyone at the British Youngsters Quidditch Academy had a single room. On the one hand, James was glad he had his privacy, on the other, he often felt lonely without the company of the other boys. Not the boys from the Academy, certainly not, but his friends from Hogwarts. Most of all Sirius, naturally. But also Peter, the third Marauder in their little group. Then there were also Alex and Chris who were not Marauders but nice enough nonetheless. Well, not exactly what you would call 'nice' but they could be fun to spend time with and they were his dorm mates and they just belonged there to make James feel at home.

This room at the Quidditch Academy was not home. It would be almost two more months until James would finally go home (at his parents'). Two more months spent with hard training where the others would not want to team up with him during exercises and would not pass the Quaffle to him during training matches. Two more months spent with worrying about his not up-to-date broomstick and Quidditch sneakers. Two more months spent with cleaning the changing rooms and doing other unpleasant tasks to earn the money he needed to buy those. Two more months spent with enduring the not outright hostile but always superior or disinterested glances of the fellow students at the Academy. Not a very bright prospect.

Oh, how he longed for the holidays! He would see his parents again, live in his old room, spend time with his best friend again, who was going to stay with him during the holidays. Certainly Peter would come over for a week or two, too. And it would be just like old times.

But two more months. Two more months spent with--

It was unfair, really. The summer holidays for the Hogwarts students already started one month earlier. What James would have given to shorten his stay at the Academy for one month, too, and start the summer holidays! That was certainly an advantage of being at Hogwarts. Longer holidays. And that was not the only advantage. If he were still at Hogwarts now-- The exams were probably just over, and now the best time of the term would begin. You did not have to work for school anymore or worry about good marks (as if James ever did--), the atmosphere was relaxed, both teachers and students were good-natured and very prank-susceptible. You could swim in the lake and play with the Giant Squid, spend the mild nights on the Astronomy Tower (or on a broomstick) and simply enjoy your life. James missed those days. Hag's Hell, he really did. He wished for nothing more than being at Hogwarts right now.

Wait a moment. He stopped in his pacing and stared at the poster at the wall that showed the team of the Tutshill Tornadoes. He was supposed to be glad he had been accepted here at the Quidditch Academy. It was the surest way to become a professional Quidditch player later and he had always wanted to become a famous Chaser. More than anything else. But do I really? he wondered. Deep in thought, he gazed at the open book on his little desk, a textbook about medical care in professional sport. Not if it's like this, James answered his own question honestly. If being a professional Quidditch player meant living like this, then he did not want to become one. He would much rather--

Marry. Start a family. Raise children and teach them how to fly, read the Tales of Beedle the Bard to them and show them how to sneak around with the Invisibility Cloak. James almost gagged at his own thoughts. He was not supposed to think like that. Starting a family was something for old people. He was still young. His life had just started. It was currently the prime of his young life. He had still so much to do before he would settle down at long last. And, after all, he, James Potter, Hogwarts' best Quidditch player and one of the school's most talented students, could not possibly simply become a househusband.

Maybe I could become an Auror together with Sirius, he considered his options, and then we could hunt vampires and werewolves and Death Eaters together. We would become famous as the best Aurors ever who saved wizardkind. Yes, becoming an Auror was a good idea. It was definitely cooler than being a househusband.

When James had reached that conclusion, he heard a faint clatter at his window. Recognising the dark shape as his owl Urania, he quickly darted over and excitedly opened the window to let her in. But his anticipation was soon disappointed. Urania did not bring a letter with her. Of course she did not. The last letter James had received from Sirius had arrived only yesterday. Although Sirius did write him quite often, he did not write that often. But James always hoped nonetheless.

"Hiya, little one." James distractedly patted his owl's head. She only hooted softly, ignored him and flew to the box of Owl Biscuits on the floor, in which she excitedly pecked. Feeling a bit angry at his unsympathetic owl, James sat down on his bed and reread Sirius's last letter.

Hi James!

You'd better not read this letter when you're in a bad mood because it will only worsen it.

Bad news: we were flattened in our last Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. It was SOOO embarrassing. We scored only one goal. Actually, we didn't even achieve that. It was an own goal of Emma Prewett. At least the match was relatively short. So, surprisingly, Ravenclaw did not win the Quidditch Cup. Hufflepuff did because they got so many points against us. Ravenclaw'll probably win the House Cup. We're at the last place - as well as in Quidditch.

On the bright side, Peter passed his Transfiguration exam although McG. has been predicting for the whole year that he was never up to study Transfiguration in NEWTs class. Serves her right! Madam Rosmerta has asked me AGAIN how you are. I think she fancies you. Something else happened. Something very amazing: Evans almost seemed to be worried for me for about half a second. During that disastrous Quidditch match, I was badly hit by a Bludger. The problem was that one was coming at me from behind and the other came directly towards my head. I chose to deflect the one aiming at my head and so the other hit me right in the back and broke my spine. It was scary. I couldn't move anymore, the only thing I could do was open and close my eyes. I think she was briefly looking at me in a worried way. But maybe I was hallucinating from the pain. What I want to say is: Maybe she doesn't hate us as much as she pretends to do. Maybe she has a soft spot for you, too! I know, you are NOT interested in her but I thought I should prepare you for this.

Many greetings from Peter. Remus says I should greet you for him, too. He and Peter are currently here in the Hospital Wing to visit me. Pomfrey STILL hasn't allowed me to leave. Well, Remus doesn't know you and you don't know him but many greetings from Remus nonetheless. He's crazy like that.

Sirius

P.S.: Don't feed Richard too much! He's still on a diet!

Smiling sadly, James shook his head. Sirius's owl Richard II had been on a diet as long as James could remember. He was always caught between grinning and feeling miserable when reading Sirius's letters. And he thoroughly hated the fact that a letter could make him emotional like that. The letter revealed two more reasons that made him want to return to Hogwarts: Firstly, Gryffindor's disastrous Quidditch results. The team very obviously needed a superb Chaser and an able captain. When he had been captain, they had won the Cup two times in a row. Secondly, Lily Evans. The fact (or maybe not a fact. Maybe, no: hopefully, Sirius had been imagining things because of the pain) that she had been worried for Sirius filled James with overwhelming jealousy.

Yes, those two reasons were very good justifications to return to Hogwarts. There was actually a third, and that was Sirius. James missed him more and more with every letter.

And there was of course the reason that his summer holidays would start one month earlier if he was at Hogwarts. James nodded thoughtfully. Yes, a very good reason, indeed. Seized by a sudden determination, he grabbed ink and quill and sat down to compose a letter for the Hogwarts' Headmaster.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I don't know if you still remember me. My name is James Potter and I used to attend your school for five years. I was in Gryffindor and I was the Quidditch captain for two years. Although I received eight OWLs, I left for the British Youngsters Quidditch Academy to train to become a professional Quidditch player. After one year here, I have come to realise that becoming a Quidditch player is not what I really wanted. I have been blinded by the fame that such a position promises. I feel like my destiny lies not on a broomstick. In our times, there are certainly more honourable things to do than playing Quidditch. More than anything, I would like to help fight the dark forces who threaten wizarding society. Therefore, I would like to continue studying at Hogwarts because I feel that young wizards are provided for such a future in the best way possible at your school. I hope that my change of mind has not come too late and you will accept me at Hogwarts again. Furthermore, I was informed that the Gryffindor Quidditch team has not been very successful anymore. I would be willing to take on the position of the captain again to train the team with my knowledge that I received here at the Quidditch Academy.

Yours sincerely,

James Potter.

James called his owl to him and tied the roll of parchment to her legs. She protested a bit and tried to bite him because she was not happy with all the work she had to do lately. When he had still been at Hogwarts, James had only occasionally written a letter to his parents and sometimes ordered joke items or presents for his friends.

Feeling already much better now that he had reached the decision to return to Hogwarts, James lay down on bed. In his mind, he already pictured seeing Lily again:

Gryffindor had spectacularly won their first Quidditch match of the season. James, who had trained so much during his stay at the Academy, had scored goal after goal. The opponent Keeper had not had a chance. Nonetheless, James lay severely injured and unconscious in the Hospital Wing now. He had been badly hit by a Bludger.

It did not make much sense, of course. James was such a good flyer, he could certainly avoid the Bludgers. And if a Bludger came too close to him, Sirius would always be there in time to beat off everything. Hmm...

He had been hit by a Bludger which was meant to distract the Gryffindor Seeker from getting the Snitch. James, who always only cared for the team's victory and not for his own safety, had used his own body as a means to give their Seeker free range. He had tragically sacrificed his own well-being for Gryffindor's victory.

So now he was in the Hospital Wing. When he woke up, he saw Lily sitting on a chair next to his bed. Upon seeing him awake, she jumped up and bent over him with a very worried expression on her face.

"Oh James, you're alive, thank Merlin," she whispered, and there were tears like little diamonds in her bright green eyes. Taking his hand in hers, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," James said bravely although even the effort to speak caused him horrible pain. "Don't worry about me."

"I was so worried for you," Lily sobbed quietly. "When I saw you unconscious on the Quidditch pitch, I thought for a moment you were dead! It was the most terrible thing in my life. If you had died, then I would never have had the chance to tell you how much I love you."

"You love me?" James asked in surprise.

"Of course I do. I want you to know that I truly, deeply love you. If something like this happens again--"

"I love you too," James said, smiling despite the pain it caused him.

And then... Lily kissed him. It was sweet and wonderful and passionate and gentle and needy all at the same time.

"Wow." When Lily moved back to regain her breath, her cheeks were slightly flushed and her beautiful eyes were sparkling. "You're a great kisser. You must have had much practice before."

"No, never," James replied. " This was just my first kiss."

"Really?" Lily said in surprise. "But why? I can't believe there have never been girls before who were interested in you. Not even at the Quidditch Academy?"

"Of course there were several who were interested in me and many wanted to kiss me. But I swear to you: I never looked twice at another girl, never kissed anyone else. I wanted my first kiss to be with you."

"Oh James, that's so romantic," Lily said, smiling widely at him.

"And what about you?" James asked hesitantly. "How many boys have you already kissed?"

"This was my first kiss, too," Lily said, smiling at him and blushing slightly. "I never wanted to kiss anyone I didn't love. I have always only loved you and I will always only love you."

"You have always loved me?" James asked in surprise. "But why did you never tell me?"

This was the point where James's fantasy stopped. No matter how much he tried to twist things: it did not make sense. Why would Lily have refused his advances if she, indeed, had always loved him? In frustration, James banged his fist on the mattress. Lily Evans was such a complicated person! It was so hard to read her. Why, just why did she reject him like that?! If she really loved him back, she would know how much it hurt him. The other explanation would be that she did not love him at all, and that was something James out-right refused to think about. Maybe -- maybe she simply did not know she loved him. Yes, that seemed a plausible justification for her odd behaviour.

"I just never realised how much you meant to me until today when I thought you were dead. Only then I fully realised the true extent of my feelings for you. I was confused earlier. I didn't understand what it was about you. But now I know that I love you and I'm sorry I behaved towards you the way I did. That must have been hard to you."

"Yes, it was," James said quietly, remembering very well all his doubts and insecurities, but then he looked up at her and smiled again. "But that's the past. No need to linger there any longer. We have the present now."

And then they kissed again and again and again...

James smiled in satisfaction into his pillow. Yes, that was a good ending. All happy and how it was supposed to be.

And they lived happily ever after.


Author's Note: Let me know what you thought of my characterisation of James.

The next chapter: Dumbledore's reply to James, and James' reaction to certain revelations ;-)

And here are the translations for the German parts:

"What's that boy doing down there?"

"My, he looks like an owl, doesn't he?"

"An owl which crashed into a window."

"But a cute owl nonetheless."

(Don't forget to add the giggles!)

"What did he say?"

"I didn't catch it, he spoke so quickly. Didn't sound particularly nice, though."