*Lilah POV*

I hurried around my dorm room, shoving the few items I had collected over the course of the two months into the dark brown trunk Professor Dumbledore had gifted me. Tears stung at my eyes as I slumped onto my bed, leaning forward to rest my head into my hands.

When had things gotten so difficult? There wasn't even this much drama in the future! And that's saying something considering the eventful lives we led having chosen to be friends with the boy who lived.

I scoffed internally, berating myself for allowing such weakness. It's not like they mattered, they were only a means of passing time until I could find a way back home.

I pushed the palms of my hands into my eyes, forcing the tears to stay at bay.

I quickly locked the latch of the trunk, throwing my hair back into a messy ponytail and out of my eyes. I looked around the dorm once more, taking in its welcoming deep red colour scheme and the three other beds.

My mind drifted to the reaction of my roommates and for a moment guilt crept in, tears once more begging to be released. It would not be long before they were all dead, why stick around to watch the show? I shook my head, instantly clearing the depressing thoughts.

It did not matter. They did not matter.

But the issue was that they did.

I had allowed myself to grow attached despite knowing that one day I would have to leave them, only to mourn when I returned to a life without them.

I grabbed the handle of the trunk, heading towards the door, allowing it to close with a soft thud behind me.

Not once did I look back.

*James POV*

"Didn't you hear?" One of the fifth year Hufflepuff girls asked her brunette friend as they walked down the hallway. "She just packed her trunk and left, Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall have gone searching for her but nothing so far. I thought Gryffindor's were supposed to be brave and courageous, not run from their problems."

I quickly tuned into their conversation, hoping that it wasn't the woman I thought it was. I stepped into their path, shooting them a cold glare.

"Hi, James," the blonde cooed, twirling her hair around her finger.

I took no interest in her, fixing my gaze on the less creepy one.

"When did Lilah leave?" I demanded, knowing that it was her.

"Just before lunch," she answered, grinning madly, happy to hold my attention.

"Fuck," I swore, running a hand through my messy hair, ignoring their dreamy expressions.

I didn't know what I would do if she left.

I didn't know what I would do without her.

I suddenly felt an extreme guilt for my actions, I already knew I had screwed up but to the point where she felt like she couldn't turn to me for help and instead ran away? It was unforgivable.

I was supposed to be there for her, to care for her and I believed I had, only from a distance. Now I saw the truth and I vowed that when I found her, I would never let her go again.

*Lilah POV*

I sat down on the cold grass of Godric Hollow's cemetery, sitting in front of the empty plot that once belonged to my mother.

Or would, I guess.

My mind wondered to her, imagining what she was like. It was moments like these where I wished my father were more open about her so that I could know her name, her family - my family.

Did I go to school with her now? Was she one of my friends?

When would this plot be filled? That question I knew.

October the 27th, 1981.

Just under three years left, I realised sadly.

I was born on November the 21st; she had had not even a year with me before she died.

Blonde or brunette?

Funny or smart? Probably both knowing my father.

Ever since I was a child, she was always a guessing game. One day she was an orphaned muggle born and the next she was a pureblood Slytherin who fell madly in love with a half-blood Gryffindor.

I sat down in front of the empty plot, playing with the loose strands of grass, glancing up at the name carved on the stone.

L.Lupin.

The only clue the held was the first letter; L. Was her name Lilah too? Something similar perhaps?

A shuffling of feet behind me caught my attention, the tell tale black converse was hint enough.

"Hey," I nodded in greeting, not looking forward from the empty gravesite.

"Hi," he whispered, sitting down silently beside me.

I didn't need to ask how he found me as I knew he just followed his instincts, as he had told me many times before.

"My mum will be buried here," I stated, no emotion filtering through my voice.

I noticed my slip up but didn't bother it correct it, not having the energy to keep up with all the lies.

I couldn't. Not with James.

"What was she like?" He questioned, intertwining his hand through my own.

I glanced down at them, having forgotten the rush accompanied with the simplest of touches. I finally spoke, my voice soft yet clear, "I don't know, my father never told me. I was born during the war, well the end half anyways. November 21st. She didn't live to see my first birthday."

He tightened his grip, not needing a word to convey what he was thinking.

He finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence, breaking the quiet atmosphere. "If you won't talk to me please just talk to Remus, he's a wreck. When he found out you left, he threw up a storm!" He chuckled, noticing my shocked look. "Who do you think organised all the search parties?"

He did?

Maybe he did care for me after all.

I shrugged sheepishly, my eyes smiling as I looked at James. "It seemed like a good idea at the time but then I realised that I had no one and nowhere to go to," I shot a look down at the empty plot, finishing sombrely, "well not yet, anyway."

"Come on," he stood, extending a hand, pulling me up effortlessly.

"Why?" The one word held so many emotions, so many questions.

He tugged me closer, tightly wrapping an arm around me. "Because I made a promise, one that I intend to keep. I'm not going anywhere."