The Hardest Choice

He woke up late that night, not knowing why, just getting a vague feeling that something was wrong. He sat up, wrapping his arms around him in the chill air, but pushing the warm blankets off his feet anyway. He stood, searching in his trunk for a spare robe he could use to keep warm. Even in the dormitory, with all the windows closed, he could see his breath freezing in the pale moonlight.

He padded down the freezing stairs silently; his brows furrowed and eyes piercing the darkness. As he neared the Common Room proper, he heard a sniffle. He stopped on the stairs, ignoring the cold that shot through the soles of his feet, and listened hard. There, there it was again. He knew that sound. So long had he been listening to her- he knew her.

She sat on the couch, hugging her knees and rocking herself back and forth, back and forth. She wore no robe, only her nightgown, and her feet were bare. She had curled her toes underneath her and one of the lush pillows that normally adorned the couch was squished between her torso and thighs as she rocked. Her hair hung like a curtain around her head, covering her face from view. Her hands, tiny, fragile, and pale, were clamped around her shins, the knuckles white with the force. He could just the nape of her exposed neck, with a thin silver chain obscuring the perfect skin. Small whimpering sounds came from deep within her chest occasionally as she rocked.

That was how he found her- right in the middle of one of those whines. His heart strained and a tiny whimper of his own was torn from his lips. Immediately, he clapped a hand over his mouth- he wasn't supposed to be here and if she saw him...too late.

She froze. Sniffing, she turned her face towards him. Tear tracks soiled her cheeks- once as white as porcelain. Her eyes held more crystals that she fought to restrain from falling. He sighed, letting his hand drop and resisting the urge to rush straight towards her and wrap his arms around her. Instead, he forced himself to stay where he was.

"Mind if I sit down?"

She hesitated, but shook her flaming head. Her hair was swept back light curtains being thrown aside to let in the light, and he got the full view of her face and neck. He saw the silver chain with its little heart pendent twinkling in the firelight at her throat. Crossing the expanse of the room in three long strides, he lowered himself onto the couch beside her, his hands itching to take hers.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice low and- hopefully- soothing.

Hiccoughing, she shrugged. Her shoulders were trembling ever so slightly in the cold- they were bare. He looked at the fire and saw it had almost burnt out. The room was even colder than his dormitory had been.

A fat tear squeezed its way out of a brilliant emerald green eye and rolled its slow way down her cheek. Giving into temptation, he slowly reached up with one hand, cupped her shin, and wiped the tear away with his thumb. She stiffened, and he jerked the offending hand away, mumbling an apology through numb lips. He could feel his fingers tingling from where they'd met her cold, soft cheek.

"It's alright," she accepted as gracefully as someone could while they fought back choking sobs. Almost unconsciously, she moved a little closer to him. "I'm just a little tense." She took a deep, shuddering breath, and turned her beautiful eyes towards him. "Oh, Remus...we, we got into a f-fight."

"Oh. But, you fight all the time," he said, realizing as he said it that she might come down here every night when she and James fought. He mentally slapped himself for the blunder, cursing his clumsy tongue and slow mind. But she didn't seem to find his comment rude, she only nodded.

"I know," she conceded, sighing sadly. "But, this time it was awful. We said horrible things to each other. And, I love him, Remus. I really do. I thought I hated him, or that it was just a crush, but I really love him. I don't think I can stand to lose him. But, I don't know if he loves me back."

"He does, don't worry," he said quickly, ripping the words from his mouth as though they were knifes he was tearing from his flesh. What else was there to say? 'I love you, forget about him. Just let it be you and me, together for eternity.'? No. He couldn't say that. That was his secret; that was his life. Each day he spent thinking about her, each minute he spent, that was what kept him alive. If he told her, all of his hopes- no matter how futile- would be dashed to pieces at the bottom of the cliff upon which he teetered. He couldn't lose his love like that.

"You think so?"

"I know so," he answered sadly, trying in vain to keep the pain from his own strangled voice. "You're all he ever talks about when we see him anymore."

"Oh," she said quietly, spoiling the silence that followed with another loud hiccough. Wiping at her nose with the back of her hand and tucking her flaming curtain of hair behind one ear, she turned her eyes back to the lush rug at their feet. "But, it was such a BIG row, and the things he shouted at me..." She sniffed again, the tears finally spilling out of her eyes with no resistance and rolling down her pale skin to drip off her delicate chin. The heart pendent glittered on her throat as she swallowed- choked, perhaps- against her sobs. His heartstrings wrenched. She was so close to him, yet still just out of reach. She belonged to someone else. He could never reach her. He couldn't even save her from this one pain. He didn't know what it was like to fight with the person you loved. He never fought with her. He wouldn't dream of disagreeing with an angel. How could someone so perfect be wrong? The idea itself was unfathomable.

But, he had to say something. He couldn't leave his angel to burn in Hell. But, there was nothing to say. He searched his heart and soul for the comforting words he knew he could offer to anyone but her, and found none. Instead, he said what he knew to be true- and the truth was worse than any comfort he might have offered.

"Don't worry Lils, he'll get over it. If he loves you, which he does, then he'll get over it. Everyone fights."

"I, I know. Thank you, Remus."

"For what? I simply told you the truth." However awful the truth is.

"For the truth, then. I needed to hear it. So thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess. Well, I, I guess I'll go back to bed... 'night Lily." He got up, looking at her as she used the corner of her pale nightgown to wipe at the tears still falling from her brilliant eyes. His brain screamed at him as he turned, unable to hide the grimace of pain he felt at leaving her like this. You, bastard, don't leave! Don't get up! Tell her you love her, don't walk away from her!

"Remus? Are you alright?" Her voice was soft, worrying. He almost laughed at the irony. She was the one in distress, yet he was the one who got asked what was wrong. He turned again to look once more at her. His eyes kept drifting to the chain at her throat, and remembering the person who gave it to her. That person wasn't him. Would never be him.

"I'm fine, Lily." No, I'm not! I love you- how can I be fine? "Why do you ask?"

"Because you look almost as upset as I feel," she said, laughing softly. Her laugh wasn't what he normally heard, it was cold and bitter, not the joyous sound he was accustomed to. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Lily, I'm fine. I promise." He hesitated as she raised her eyebrows delicately, the disbelief clear on her pretty face. I'm not fine. I love you, that's what's wrong. Don't torment me like this woman! He sat down again, sensing somehow that she still wanted to talk, and needing to feel her near him again.

"Alright... but you've been really quiet lately. James said you barely ever talk anymore. I've noticed it too. I even heard Professor McGonagall talking about how you seemed to be getting more reclusive. So something has to be wrong, can't you tell me? I swear I won't tell anyone, if you don't want me to. But I don't like seeing you upset, and neither do your friends."

He tried to smile at her, thank her for her concern. But he couldn't do it. And he certainly couldn't tell her. Imagine the look of horror on his face when she learned of his dreams, of his guilty treason to his best friend. No, he could never do that. "I can't tell you, Lily. I'm sorry. It's just...very private, I suppose. And I don't want to hurt anyone." So instead, I've kept the pain all to myself. Selfish to the end, and all because I fucking love you.

"But why not?" Her tears were almost gone, and now she was the one looking concerned, and he was fighting for control of his own emotions. Again- he almost laughed at the way the tables had been turned on him.

He looked at her again, at the pale cheeks, the red lips, the bright green eyes, and the brilliant hair that make up her face. How can he not tell her? Better to die with her knowing than to die bitter and alone. He took a deep breath, and expelled it slowly. Her expression was one of worried expectancy. She didn't love him. But he had to tell her. "It's because..." I love you. I have always loved you. I'll love you until the day I bloody die and there's shit I can do about it? Are you happy now? You know my secret? You know my shame?

"Yes?"

"Because, I...don't feel very well. I must be coming down with something." Is there a disease for infatuation? I must have it. I can't take this, but I can't tell her. I can't see her turn away.

"Oh...why can't you tell me then?"

"It's a special kind of disease." In that case, I have two 'special' diseases.

"Oh, alright... well, goodnight Remus, I guess. I'll see you in the morning." She sighed softly, and he knew she didn't believe him. But there was no way to tell her. He was a coward- he couldn't face his only fear, even as he lived it.

"Good night Lily." Kiss her! He got up slowly, walked halfway to the stairs, then stopped. His heart was beating painfully against his chest and he could hear it pound through his ears. Go back! Kiss her! Tell her! Do bloody something! He turned, and went back. She frowned at him a little, a small smile playing across rosy lips, her eyebrows quirked just a tiny bit in confusion. He knelt so they were at eye level. The look of confusion increased on her perfect face and he took another breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head just a little. She closed her mouth again, her eyes asking the question he longed to answer with words, but could only say with actions. Do it now! Slowly, he leaned in, and, brushed his lips against hers. The kiss was light, just a whisper of contact, but still his blood rushed through his veins, lighting sparks behind his eyelids as he closed them. Finally!

She jerked away, wide eyed. A little gasp emitted from her mouth and her cheeks were stained pink. He blushed deeply. I did it. I actually did it. And now I'll regret it. "Lily, I'm so sorry. I honestly didn't mean to do that. Well, I did, but, like, not now. Or ever, really. I mean, I wanted to, yeah, but I didn't want to at the same time because-"

He was cut off sharply as she pushed her own mouth against his. Her kiss wasn't like his had been- just a brush, a swift touch and that's all. No, this was a real kiss, the kind he had wanted from her for so long...but it wasn't right. He couldn't let her do this to him- he couldn't do this to her.

He pulled away, reluctantly breaking the bond between them. He was breathing heavily, unable to think. Red spots danced before his eyes and there was a ringing in his ears. His fingers- carefully folded in his lap- itched to take her hands, to warm them with his body heat. He had pulled away from the thing he had wanted most. I am a total idiot.

"Remus," she breathed softly. She blushed, and color came to life in her pale face, lighting it up like some magnificent stage set only for him. "I'm sorry too. It's just... I needed to be kissed just then. To know somebody cared. It won't happen again."

Damn you woman, I WANT it to happen again. "It's alright, Lily...but, I'll always care. I can promise that much."

"Will you do something for me then?"

"Yes. Anything." I'd die for you, if you asked it. That's all you have to do, my darling. All you have to do is ask.

"Kiss me again."

He hesitated. Then his desire to have her flesh against his overcame his conscience and he kissed her, pressing his lips to hers and hungrily, desperately searching for her to return the kiss. She did, her hands sliding up his back and mingling in his hair. He moaned quietly into her mouth as he felt her fingers tighten. He slid his own hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him, wanting to touch every part of her, know every part of her, and not caring anymore about James, about morality, about being proper, about respecting his best friend. All he wanted was her. When she kissed him, it felt like maybe she could love him back.

She broke away from him, gasping, and all his illusions disappeared. She didn't love him. She never would. He opened his eyes and looked into her own green ones, trying to catch his breath and stop his tears. He seemed to have forgotten how to breathe and was trying desperately to reclaim that knowledge, even as his brain told him he didn't want to remember. He could die now, and he would be at least a little content.

"We shouldn't do this." But who cares? I've finally got her! She's mine! His heart broke just a little more as he said the words, but he knew he couldn't. James was there, hovering incessantly in his mind. He could see him staring in disbelief as his girlfriend kissed his best friend. He couldn't' do that to James- or to her. No, he could never do that to her.

"I know," she answered, and he saw a little twinge of regret flash across her features and his heart leaped. Even as she started to speak he was leaning in towards her again. "But..."

He didn't let her finish her thought. He kissed her again, reveling the mingling of their breath. She opened her mouth a little, and he couldn't help but push his tongue hesitantly against the opening. She sighed and again her fingers found their way to his hair. They were dancing now, a beautiful dance that could never again be repeated, not even in his dreams. The dance became more and more intense, more complicated, and, ultimately, more wonderful as she pushed impossibly closer to him, one hand leaving his hair to touch his cheek. If this wasn't Heaven itself, then he never wanted to die.

When they were both fumbling at each other's clothing and his shirt was halfway over his head did he finally break away. He couldn't do this, it wasn't right. James was there again, pushing through the love-fogged cloud of his mind to stare at him with disbelief and hate open on his features. She looked at him, confused, as he pulled and tugged his shirt back into place. He couldn't bear to look up at her- she still sat on the couch and he still knelt on the floor. He was beneath her. He would never be worth this angel.

"Remus, what-"

"We can't do this Lily. You love James, you're dating him, all of that. It doesn't matter about me. You KNOW you love James. Please don't throw that love away for a single night when I can't control my senses," he said softly. He had his shirt buttoned again, but he still preoccupied himself with it. He couldn't look at her.

But he could feel her gaze on him as she tried to understand what he was saying. When she did, and the realization came crashing down on her, she nodded. Her eyes filled with tears for what seemed like the hundredth time- he could feel them start to spill down her cheeks- and she started shaking, but she nodded. He felt the nod just as much as he felt the tears. He knew she understood, and that she would listen. She wasn't stupid.

"This never happened, then. Please don't think it did. It CAN'T have happened. You understand, don't you? If it happened, then I'm even less deserving of you than I originally thought. Good night Lily."

As he started to rise, she grabbed his shoulders and kissed him fiercely. He pulled away, his tears finally mingling with hers, and walked up the stairs to his bed, to his friends, leaving his heart beside her on the couch.

"James? Can I talk to you? Please? It'll only be for a moment, I swear."

"What Lily?" James' voice was hard and cold, but still she stood in front of him, her shoulders squared and her chin raised bravely. He watched from behind the statue, his knuckles white as he gripped the stone.

"I'm sorry I yelled like that yesterday. I didn't mean it. I was just angry, I swear. I would never have said that if I wasn't angry. Will you be mad at me terribly long?"

"As long as you're mad at me," James smiled, a perfect smile that every girl wanted. She smiled back with her own perfection- one that was above mankind and floated with the divine. He reached out a hand to her and she took it, and they walked off down the corridor to who-knows-where.

He watched them go, watched the one person he cared for most go off with another and he knew that it was right in its own twisted way. It was right for James to have her. James deserved her, and he didn't. She could never be his, and his dreams were all he had to live with now. He'd made his choice, and not he had to deal with it.

She could have been his.

But it wasn't right if she was.