Nothing On Earth

Chapter Fourteen

10:15 PM

R.M.S. Titanic

The sky was an inky black and unnaturally clear that night. Thousands upon thousands of stars stretched across the heavens like diamonds from a split jewellery box. Amongst the bright Milky Way, a small sliver of moon could be spotted, barely illuminating the world below with its pale glow.

The night was quiet and cold, almost as distant as the stars overhead. A soft, cool breeze would occasionally rake through the deck, disturbing whatever was in its path. The soft hum of the engines and the splash of the churning waters below the stern were the only noises that could be heard apart for the occasional sound of human activity. The deck was dark and deserted, the only light coming from the few electric lights on deck.

A haze of smoke obscured the sky momentarily, before it was blown away by rushing air. James lowered the cigarette from his lips, the end glowing brilliantly, and let it hang over the side of the bench clenched loosely between his two fingers. He stared up at the stars, his mind at ease for the first time in this long week.

"She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that's best of dark and bright..." he murmured suddenly, not taking his eyes off the brilliant world above, "meet in her aspect and her eyes - "

"Thus mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies," Lily finished, burying her head in his chest. "Lord Byron...a favourite of yours, I presume?"

"I preferred Tennyson, actually. I'm surprised you knew that poem, considering you were thrown out of school."

"Oh, shut up," she responded, hitting him on the chest. "Just because I didn't finish school doesn't mean I'm stupid or that I don't know basic literature."

"This reminds me of school, you know..." James mumbled, his mind wandering. "When I was upset or angry at Dumbledore, I used to go out by the lake at night and lie on the shore, just so I could stare at the stars. I'd lay out there all night, just thinking and looking at the sky...I improved my Astronomy grade so much, the professor started to wonder if I was cheating off of Sirius."

"...This reminds me of my father," Lily whispered softly. "When I was younger, we used to sit in his study late at night, and talk...He'd always light up a cigar while we were together and once, he let me have a puff. After he died, I'd sit in his study and smell the scent of his cigars...It lingered for a few months, but then it disappeared and I started to smoke until Lucius made me quit, to make up for that particular absence in my life."

James pulled Lily closer to his chest comfortingly, knowing the despair of remembering a lost parent brought on, but at the same time wanting to be nearer to this amazing person. He learned something new and exciting about her every second, and it only made her seem even more brilliant.

"My father and Lucius never got along well, even after they had known each other for a time," Lily continued, her hand snaking up into James's hair. "They didn't agree on anything - especially where I was concerned - and were as different as you could possibly imagine. Daddy...well, I suppose he knew what kind of person Lucius was, but he didn't try to stop our relationship until Mum persuaded him to. He always wanted to make me happy."

"He sounded like a fantastic person."

"He was," Lily affirmed. "And...I think he would've liked you if I had brought you home to meet him instead."

"Really?" James asked, feeling a swell of pride at the thought of Lily's father favouring him, a lowly street urchin, over the wealthy, aristocratic Malfoy.

"Yes. Tennyson was his favourite as well."

James laughed low in his throat and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

***

They were sharing a bench, staring at the stars, and clinging to each other like their very lives depended on it.

Lily was curled into James, her head on his chest, and her arms wrapped around his slim waist. She was wearing his long overcoat, keeping him warm with her body heat. Her legs were tangled in his, feet were clad only in stockings and her heeled shoes on the deck.

One of his arms was wrapped protectively around her shoulders, the fingers on the hand playing with the hair that had come loose from their pins. His chin rested upon the top of her head, and his strong chest rose up and down evenly as he breathed in the cool night air.

Lily had finally discovered the place where she belonged - in James Potter's arms. It was like they had been made for each other, moulded so they could fit perfectly together when they found each other. Lying with James, touching him, being with him, kissing him - it all felt so right, so natural. She'd never felt this - this complete before...and to think, her stubborn pride had almost ruined it all.

When James finally kissed her, her knees had buckled beneath her and she'd had to throw her arms around his neck for support. It had been the most passionate kiss she had ever received, until, of course, he kissed her a few more times.

James's kisses were incredible. His lips were so warm and soft and sweet, like a delicate piece of chocolate. It had felt wonderful and had sent tingles straight to her toes, like a proper kiss should. She had been light-headed after he'd pulled away and it wasn't just from the lack of oxygen.

They'd shared three kisses afterward, each one more fervent than the last, right in the open deck, before James had enough sense to suggest they find a more private place to continue. Neither of them had wanted to go back inside, so they had found a dark, secluded bench near the edge of the stern, and sat down. Eventually, the sitting turned into laying, and they were soon curled up like long-time lovers, except they weren't...lovers, that is.

Lily didn't know what to call their relationship. They'd gone past casual friends, but they weren't lovers nor were they - or could ever be - a couple. What were they? Two lonely individuals looking for comfort from their harsh worlds? Friends who kissed each other with wild abandon? Two souls who found their match far too late?

She didn't even know how she felt about James, so how could she go about labelling them as lovers or soul mates? Yes, she cared about him deeply and she thoroughly enjoyed his kisses, but she didn't love him. She couldn't love him; people only fell in love in three days in dramas and tragedies. This was life. The last time she had convinced herself that she was in love with someone hadn't turned out well at all.

But James was different. He made her heart flutter and her knees weak with just a casual glance her way. He made her feel important with one of his stupid lopsided smiles. His opinions and comments affected her, driving her to tears one time and causing her to laugh until her sides ached the next time. He apologised when he hurt her, showing that he genuinely cared about her. She didn't have to convince herself that she could possibly spend the rest of her life with this man.

Yet, she didn't know him, not really. She knew some basic facts and his brief history, but that was about it. Here she was, baring her soul, but his parents' names were a complete mystery to her as were simple things such as his favourite colour or sport. She didn't know what made him angry (though she had a rather vivid idea), sad, or happy...She didn't know his birthday; hell, she didn't even know how old he was either.

The problem was, even though she knew next to nothing about James, she still felt for him more than any other person she had known. She cared for him deeply, and the extent of her feelings honestly scared her. It had taken her months to find anything with Lucius, and those feelings couldn't even compare to the way she felt about James.

How could it be possible to care for someone so much that you'd sacrifice everything for him? How could her - her feelings towards James make her want to throw away everything she knew and run away with him? Why did these feelings make her crumble under his gaze or her heart break at the thought of never being able to be with him? Was this love?

Even if she did love James (and she most certainly did not), she didn't know how he felt about her. He probably didn't even feel the same way, just pretending to care or using her for his own needs. He had demonstrated this morning that his feelings were quick to chance and, after all, what normal lad would ignore a distressed girl willing to be kissed and touched? What if she was just another girl, a fling to brag to his mates about? What if she didn't matter to him at all?

Lily sat up suddenly, pulling James's fingers violently out of her hair and giving him a good startle.

"Lily?" he asked, concern immediate in his tone. Following her motions, he sat up and stared at her. "Is there something wrong? Have I done - "

"How do you feel about me, James?" she asked, staring at him desperately. The wind was cool, blowing her hair every which way, and she pulled James's coat closer to her body.

"What?" he replied, a mix of confusion in his eyes.

"Do you care about me, James? Am I somebody important to you or just another girl that you're going to forget about as soon as Titanic reaches New York - "

"Shh," James muttered, placing a silencing finger on her lips. "Of course I care about you Lily; I wouldn't have come running after you if I didn't...and you're not just 'another girl' to me. I don't know what you are, but you're something...something I can't even describe properly."

"How do you feel about me?" she pressed again, moving his finger away from her lips and holding it captive in her hand. She was asking a lot of him and crossing several social barriers. Men weren't supposed to talk about their feelings; it was a sign of weakness, after all. "Is there anything?"

"Well, I kissed you without tossing up my dinner, didn't I?" James joked, his hazel eyes dancing humorously for a moment. "But, seriously...I - I don't know how I feel about you. It's a mix of things, really...You make me laugh, you excite me, you annoy me, you make me feel absolutely incredible when I do kiss you...But most of all, I think, you make me feel things I've never felt before...When you went running off tonight, I was scared - terrified that I'd never see you again, and that thought alone tore me up inside..." His arm snaked around her neck and shoulders, pulling her close to him once more, and "Whenever I'm around you, I feel like the luckiest man alive and I can never have enough of you. If I were to be bold, I could say that I love you - "

Lily's breath caught in her throat, and she stared up at him, not daring to believe -

" - but that's positively absurd. Who's ever heard of someone falling in love in three days?"

"Of course...absurd," Lily echoed after a moment, her heart aching from a thought that she herself had condemned moments earlier.

***

Sirius was getting tired of playing card games. Since he'd begun to associate with Malfoy and Riddle, he had exhausted his knowledge of cards and enthusiasm for playing with them. He was currently nearing the point where he would shoot himself if he ever saw a card deck again. Unfortunately for him, Malfoy and Riddle's favourite pastime - besides discussing their plans for world domination - seemed to be playing every card game known to man. Sirius had grown bored and broke from it ages ago.

He had currently opted to stay out their latest game of hearts, causing a bit of grumbling from Riddle, who seemed to delight in taking Sirius's money away from him. He was watching the pair of them now, hardly talking because it ruined their concentration.

Riddle was chewing on a cigar like he normally did, his brow furrowed in thought, and his grey eyes darting over his hand, while Malfoy was more at ease, gazing steadily at his hand and only glancing up when Riddle's cigar twitched. They were involved in a stand-off for the last play of the game and their tableau had been like this for the past five minutes or so. Absentmindedly, Sirius gazed down at his fingernails, examining them with some scrutiny. His nails were dirty, as he liked them, and a bit on the long side for he hadn't clipped them in ages. He had a nasty hangnail on his right thumb that had been bothering him since last Thursday -

"Ah, you win again," Malfoy declared suddenly, folding his hand and placing the cards face up on the table with an exasperated look on his face.

Sirius spat his thumb out of his mouth, pretending that he had been paying rapt attention instead of trying to chew off his hangnail.

Malfoy lazily slipped a fiver over toward Riddle, who folded it and stuffed it away in his jacket pocket almost greedily. He then signalled a waiter over to refill his empty brandy glass.

Riddle took his cigar out of his mouth and balanced it between his fingers with precision, before glancing at Malfoy and striking up some conversation to ease his fourth loss in a row.

"I heard you had a talk with that eager lad from the January meeting at dinner. What was his name again? Jemson? Johnstone?"

Sirius had begun to notice that Riddle was terrible with names, especially names of those that didn't concern him in the slightest.

"Johnson," Malfoy corrected, taking a sip of his newly refreshed brandy.

"Yes, of course," Riddle replied, waving it off casually. "I suppose he was still interested then?"

"Of course. He had me talking non-stop at his table tonight and asked all sorts of questions," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "He had a full table of people interested and I think I delivered an offer that they couldn't refuse."

Riddle smirked that snake-like smirk he had and motioned for Malfoy to start shuffling for another game. Sirius nearly beat his head in frustration when Malfoy looked over at him and asked him if he wanted to play this round as well.

Malfoy sighed in that annoying way of his when Sirius answered negatively and turned his attention to Riddle, finishing his story about Johnson and their dinner -

"Weren't you and Lily supposed to be having dinner together tonight?" Sirius interrupted, suddenly struck by surprise. Malfoy had told the two of them earlier today that he was trying to 'make up this terrible voyage' to Lily by having a solitary dinner in one of the restaurants tonight, but how could he have done that with future Death Eaters slobbering over his every word?

The cards Malfoy were shuffling paused momentarily as the owner turned to fix Sirius with his cold eyes.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

Sirius sat up a little straighter in his chair, not at all intimidated by Malfoy's glare and repeated his question. Malfoy stared at him for the longest time, as if he was trying to gauge Sirius's intentions on the subject, and Sirius tried to keep his face as impassive as possible.

"We were supposed to have dinner, yes, but you can't obviously expect me to refuse a potential new member over my fiancée, can you?" Malfoy reasoned at last, beginning to shuffle his cards again in an impatient manner.

Sirius felt a shock of anger course through him, but he fought it down, trying to remain calm and seem simply curious.

"Did she come to the other table with you?"

Malfoy let out a dark little chuckle.

"Black, you can't be serious, can you?" he said, a humorous tone to his voice. Sirius didn't bother to point out the pun in his question. "Lily, come along to a Death Eater meting? That's quite possibly the most absurd thing I've heard all day...Of course I didn't let her come! I left her sitting at our table - "

"Alone?" Sirius asked, his anger seeping through unintentionally.

"Yes, alone," Malfoy replied in a tone that would most likely be used to address a stupid child. "I've done it plenty of times before; she's used to it...I once left her sitting at a table in a London restaurant for six hours and she waited that long for me to come back. Horribly pathetic really...She's probably still sitting down in the Á la Carte restaurant right now."

Sirius stared at Malfoy in disgust, anger coursing through him. How could he treat Lily like that? Like some kind of thing he could toss away and pick up when it served him best? Lily didn't deserve to be treated like a piece of garbage; no one deserved to be treated like that, especially if it came from a bastard like Lucius Malfoy...

The blond man had turned back to Riddle, apparently convinced that the younger man was through with his questions for the night.

Sirius waited until he had calmed down enough to ask Malfoy another question.

"Why do you treat her like that?"

One of the cards that Malfoy was dealing to Riddle flew off the table and onto the floor. The older man rolled his eyes and leaned over to pick the card up as Malfoy turned to stare at Sirius once again.

"Why do I treat her like that?" Malfoy repeated, his voice low and dangerous, as if he expected Sirius to be intimidated by it alone. "Treat her like however I feel like, you mean?"

The young man nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak, but revelling in the knowledge that he was no longer the only angry person at the table.

"Because, Black," he sighed condescendingly. "Lily is mine - or will be in a few months time - and when I own something, I can treat it however I feel best, which includes leaving it at a dinner table for a few hours alone...Lily's hardly an exception as my fiancée and she needs to be taught some harsh lessons; I have dogs better trained than her, after all. Until she learns to behave herself and treat me with the respect a husband deserves, I'm going to treat her however I feel like it."

"So...So, she's nothing more than a thing to you? Some kind of prize?" Sirius demanded, grinding his heel into the carpet and wishing it was Malfoy's face. "Whatever happened to love or devotion?"

"I believe someone's being reading far too much poetry in his spare time...Love. Ha," Riddle scoffed dryly. "And I wouldn't go so far as to describe Evans as a prize...She's hardly worth a thing, though I suppose you must be right...There must be some reason Lucius decided to walk down the aisle with her."
The two men chuckled together suddenly, as if they shared some insight into the matter of Malfoy's attraction to Lily, and then promptly began to ignore Sirius again, in favour of starting a new game rather than answering any more of his questions.

But Sirius wasn't through yet and he wouldn't be ignored for long. Malfoy had made him furious with all those comments; he had suspected quite a long time that Malfoy probably didn't love Lily, but he had really never expected his lack of affection to go as far as outright disregard for her as a person. How could he compare Lily, quite possibly the most bright, beautiful, and extraordinary woman he had ever known, to a disobedient dog? That alone made Sirius burn with fury.

"Well," he mumbled after the two of them had gotten a comfortable way into their card game, "with the way you treat her, its no wonder that she prefers Potter to you."

Malfoy slammed his cards down on the table, knocking over both his and Riddle's brandy glasses and shot off his chair like he had just been jabbed with a red-hot poker. With in seconds, he was towering over Sirius, grabbing the lapels of his suit and pulling him upright into his chair.

"What did you say?" he hissed, his cold eyes now blazing with vehemence.

"I said," Sirius stated loudly, returning Malfoy's glare with no hesitation at all. Malfoy might be able to threaten and hurt Lily, but Sirius wasn't afraid to hit the bastard right back. "That it's no wonder she prefers Potter to you."

A tense, violent silence fell between them and Riddle watched like a hungry vulture as the two stared each other down. Twice, Malfoy's hands contracted on Sirius's lapels, as if he was about to strangle the younger man or punch him, and his mouth twitched angrily often, as if he was stopping himself from letting a tirade of curse words come flying out. Sirius was much calmer then Malfoy, but his hands under the table were shaking with nerves. Maybe he'd given too much away with that last comment, maybe they knew he was a spy, maybe...

"Lily knows her place, Black," Malfoy spoke at last, his tone threatening, dangerous. He let go of Sirius's suit, shoving him back down into his chair before more people could stare at them. "But I suggest it's time you learned yours."

He sat back down slowly, staring Sirius down ominously. After regaining most of his composure, he turned to Riddle and resumed their card game as though it hadn't been interrupted at all. Throughout the rest of the night, however, he looked up whenever Sirius twitched.

***

They were kissing again.

James just couldn't help himself. Her luscious lips had been far to distracting during the time they had lain and talked, and he'd decided to put an end to her subconscious teasing before he went insane. They had changed positions sometime during their talk, sitting on the bench instead, and he had simply leaned over and captured her lips with his. It was supposed to have been a soft, sweet kiss, but Lily had thought differently, which was why he was currently snogging her as if his life depended on it.

Each kiss they shared increased in intensity, like lighting bolts in a vicious storm. They became hotter, wetter, and much more needy each time their lips met, drinking in the other deeply, as if neither could get their fill.

It wasn't just the kisses that were getting hotter either. Lily's small hands, for instance, had gotten under his shirt a long time ago, making him groan against her lips every time she hit a sensitive spot on his skin. She pulled at his hair, driving him wild with desire and making him met her lips more passionately with every delicious tug. His hands weren't exactly idle either. They were under her dress, running up her arms, on her chest, making her whimper and sigh and moan so wonderfully -

James was sure he had never enjoyed kissing anyone this much before. He didn't know how he could've refrained from kissing her earlier - she was far too good to be ignored.

He slowly lowered her onto her back on the bench again, breaking their latest kiss just so he could start trailing soft, sensual kiss down her creamy neck, tasting and nipping at her skin.

"Bloody hell...This bench needs to be a lot bigger," James murmured against the hollow of her neck and eliciting a low laugh from her. His knees were throbbing in protest about being crammed on such a small area, and he adjusted himself to relieve the pressure. "Not funny...I'm about to fall off."

"Just don't stop kissing me if you do...Christ, James," she groaned, her hands twisting in his hair. "You're much better than Lucius..."

"Glad to know I'm better than him at something as important as kissing you senseless..."

"Oh...you're better than him at a lot of things, I'm sure...He kisses like a dead fish."

James paused his kisses and stared at her incredulously.

"A dead fish? When have you ever kissed a dead fish?"

She laughed again, a beautiful, clear sound, and tugged at James collar, pulling him into another soft kiss.

"The stable boy at Beauxbatons fancied me after I borrowed his trousers, but he had horrible teeth, never bathed, and was incredibly pimply, so you can imagine that I was rather reluctant to do anything with him, let alone something like kiss him. So I told him that I'd rather kiss a dead fish," she explained, kissing him lightly on the throat, "and he shows up the next day with a dead trout from the kitchens. I had to kiss it and it was possibly the most disgusting thing ever...cold, slimy...Ecgh."

James laughed and she grinned, her eyes sparkling with life and warmth that he had so rarely seen in her. He stared, captivated by her, as that strange emotion rose inside of him again...She made him so happy, so complete...He was beginning to forget what it was like to have a life without knowing Lily Evans, and he didn't want to go back to that life at all, because that wasn't a life...He hadn't known what life was before her.

Was this - was he -

"What?"

Her forehead was wrinkling in question and James grinned, memorising every crinkle of her skin.

"You're astounding, did you know?" he mumbled, pulling a lock of her hair out of place and twisting around his forefinger.

"Mmm...Sirius kisses like a slobbering little puppy, did you know?"

"No, I didn't - HE WHAT?"

"I was eleven, James. Sit back down, you idiot, and kiss me again."

James, though troubled greatly by this new information, happily obliged, until a serious thought struck him and he broke their kiss abruptly.

"What kind of animal do I kiss like?"

***

Remus was worried and James had gone missing.

This was usually not a good combination of any sort.

He had first noticed that something was amiss when he and Sigrid had passed by James's table during their dance without seeing a familiar head of messy black hair. The table was occupied instead by Mrs. Kiernan, and Remus simply presumed that James was playing with little Aileen. However, when they passed by another twenty minutes later and Aileen was at the table, but without James, Remus had started to get slightly concerned.

He really didn't think anything of it until an hour later, when Sigrid had exhausted him beyond belief, the musicians had decided to take a drink break, and James still wasn't back from where he had disappeared. He left Sigrid on the other side of the dance floor, telling her in very simple English that he would be back in time for the next dance, and walked over to the table to get some answers.

Mrs. Kiernan was still at the table, talking with another Irishman named Tommy O'Ryan, if memory served correctly, while bouncing Aileen on her knees. Another redheaded woman was seated by Tommy, and she was watching Jack Dawson play with a curly-headed little girl.

"Lupin!" Jack called, twirling the girl round and round. Aileen was watching her through half-closed, jealous eyes. "Come to join us, have you?"

"Ha. Right," Remus replied, looking over his shoulder at Sigrid. The music had begun unexpectedly again and she had an impatient look on her face. "I just came from a drink...Do you have any unused glasses?"

Tommy pushed a full glass at him and Remus took it gratefully. He gulped it down, set it back down on the table, and looked at Jack.

"You haven't seen James lately, have you?"

"Potter?" Jack repeated, pausing his dance with the girl for a moment to think. "No...not since lunch. I just got down here."

"Been busy, have you?" Remus asked, noticing that Jack was currently dressed in some clothes he certainly could not afford. He nodded at the unknown woman sitting at the table. "Do you mind introducing me?"

"Oh, right. Lupin, this is - "

"Lily?" Remus interrupted as the woman turned around. "Oh...No, sorry..."

"It's all right," the woman responded, smiling. She stuck out her hand and introduced herself as Rose Dewitt-Bukater, the girl Dawson had met last night.

"Remus Lupin," he replied, shaking her hand and wondering why all Americans were quite so forward. He felt extremely stupid, but this Rose woman did look extraordinarily like Lily. She had long red hair, fair skin, green eyes (though, on closer inspection, they were not nearly was bright and unique as Lily's), and was dressed in dinner finery that could only be associated with the rich and elite.

"Sorry," Remus apologised again, shaking his head. "Its just...you look a lot like another girl I know...Is Lily Evans a relative, by chance?"

"Evans...Evans...She's not Lucius Malfoy's fiancée, is she?"

"Unfortunately."

"Oh...Well, I don't think we're related, though we do look a lot a like, don't we?" Rose answered, grinning at him. She seemed a bit tipsy, if all the empty beer mugs were any testament to her state. "How do you know Evans? Malfoy's got her on a tighter leash than Cal has on me!"

She laughed and then turned back to Jack, cheering and clapping her hands in time with the music.

Shaking his head, Remus turned to Mrs. Kiernan, hoping she'd have some answers.

"I haven't seen Mr. Potter since he went to play with Aileen," she answered, as if reading Remus's mind, "an' she came back a little while later without him, mumblin' about Mr. Potter needin' to talk with Miss Evans."

Remus stared at her sceptically, until his concentration was broken by a tug on his arm and a butchered pronunciation of his name whispered in his ear. Sigrid had gotten tired of waiting, apparently, and started to tug him into the dancing crowd again.

"Are you sure that's what she said? Lily and James talking?" Remus persisted, resisting Sigrid's strong pull momentarily.

Mrs. Kiernan nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was, Remus never got to hear. Sigrid gave him one last tug, tearing him away from the sidelines and into the crowd.

As they went twirling through the mixed crowd, Remus could hardly concentrate on his dancing and his concern grew with every passing moment.

***

Peter detested the late shift on steward duty. He had done his fair share of night shifts on other voyages and was particularly happy when he was assigned to be an afternoon steward for Titanic's maiden voyage. At least the day shift didn't involve directing drunks to their cabins or helping lost foreign passengers find the loo at three in the morning.

One of Peter's cabin mates had gotten sick earlier this evening and Peter, being the kind soul he was, volunteered to cover the majority of his shift so he wouldn't get in trouble. The cabin mate's illness, however, didn't seem to be too threatening as Peter had spotted him snogging one of the first class maids in the corridor as he had gone upstairs, putting him in a bad mood for the rest of the night.

There were very few stewards on the night shift, less than half of the number on the day side, and they were an unruly bunch. As Peter was smaller and quieter than the lot of them, the other members of the crew had bullied and poked fun at him throughout the entire shift. Peter, never being one to stand up for himself without either Remus, Sirius, or James behind him, put up with it and, as a result, was forced to do the worst part of the duty, deck check.

Deck check consisted mostly of going outside onto the poop deck and sending the intoxicated passengers back below before they hurt themselves. The unlucky bloke on deck check duty also had to make sure none of the steerage passengers were climbing on the machinery and to stop them from going out-of-bounds while freezing his arse off at the same time.

Peter shrugged his coat closer to him and pulled his cap lower on his head, mumbling irritably under his breath. Any passenger out this night was probably insane; it had to be at least below freezing without the wind chill. Peter had only seen a few people thus far on his rounds; a few members of the deck crew, with whom he'd had a talk with for a little while, a few random passengers out with their cigarettes, and a rather bulky looking passenger lying on a shadowy bench near the edge of the stern.

Oh, yes. Deck check was certainly a very exciting duty.

He yawned, bored out of his mind. As there was hardly anything for Peter to do while on duty, he had taken to just walking back and forth on the same stretch of deck, shining his electric torch in the darkened areas, in between smoking (a rather nasty habit he had picked up from James) and throwing bits of paper over the side of the ship.

He bit down on his cigarette and fumbled around in his jacket pockets for his watch to check the time for the second time in the last fifteen minutes. Time passed much slower out on deck than inside, and Peter was hoping to go back inside very soon. His watch, on the other hand, squashed those hopes by declaring that it was just nearing eleven o'clock. Peter jammed the watch back into his pocket and shuffled onward, grumbling about stupid cabin mates and six hour shifts. He was currently entertaining the idea of going back to his cabin at midnight, just to show his cabin mate that he couldn't be bullied completely -

Suddenly, laughter and the low murmuring of voices further aft reached Peter's ears, and he stopped, looking over his shoulder. He could barely see two figures in the distance, but they were coming toward him, stumbling over their own feet and laughing heartily.

"Drunks," he muttered distastefully, plucking his cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it on the deck, grinding it with his boot. He turned off his torch and ducked into the shadows, not wanting to be harassed by two drunken fools as well.

As the pair came closer, Peter thought he heard something suspiciously close to singing coming from one of them, but the act seemed to be straining his or her vocal chords. Peter winced in exasperation; there was nothing worse than singing drunks.

The couple stumbled into Peter's area, and he shrank further back into the shadows, wanting to be avoided but wanting to see at the same time. What he saw surprised him greatly.

James Potter was out on deck at this time of night, wearing nothing but a thin shirt, and clumsily dancing and laughing with a red-headed woman, who was singing and looked remarkably like...like Lily Evans!

"Come Josephine, in my flying machine! Going up, she goes! Up, she goes! Balance yourself like a bird on a beam!" Evans sang in between bouts of laughter as James twirled her around once and then into his arms. "In the air she goes...Oh, don't you know this song, James? It was popular just last year!"

James laughed along with her, pulling her close to him, and then dipping her low, eliciting a small shriek from her.

"I probably would know it if you weren't murdering the song. Christ, you're a horrible singer, Lily," he responded, grinning at her and wincing playfully when she smacked him the shoulder.

"Well, I never said I was good at everything, did I?"

"I know one thing you're good at, among other things, I suppose," he said, straightening back up and threading his hands in her hair familiarly. She began to sing again, although softly this time and in a much more bearable way, though it was still horrible on the ears. "Oh, do shut up or I'm going to have to do it for you."

Evans giggled, but she was quickly silenced by a fierce kiss on the lips by James.

Peter turned away quickly, his mouth hanging open in incredulity. How did they -? What were they -? Were they actually -? What the bloody hell was going on?

What on earth was James doing with Lucius Malfoy's fiancée, let alone kissing her so...so wantonly? Did this have anything to do with Evans asking for James two days ago? If it did, then why in the name of God's green earth were they currently snogging the hell out of each other in plain sight? Were they insane, drunk, or simply a combination of the two?

The most important question, however, was what was he, Peter, going to about all of this? Did Remus and Sirius know about all of this? Worse, did Riddle and Malfoy even have a clue as to what was going on behind their backs? Was he going to have to tell them that his best friend was involved with to the fiancée of a known murderer and Death Eater? Was he going to have to betray James's trust and tell the others about what had just occurred? Did he really need to tell anybody about this?

Their laughter and voices were getting farther and farther away, and by the time Peter turned around and stepped out of the shadows, they were already on the stairs leading to the upper classes and far out of his reach. He stared at them momentarily, swept up in confusion, before making his first decision of the night.

He was going to skive off the rest of this shift and go have a brandy.

***

"Wow...There's a lot of stars out tonight."

Lily stared at him, an intrigued and slightly confused grin crossing her lips.

"That was a completely random thought, James Potter."

He looked down at her, that horrible lopsided grin on his face and Lily felt her knees weaken at the sight.

"I know," he replied, placing a hand gently on hers, their shoulder bumping together lightly. "Just thought I'd let you know."

She poked him in the side, causing him to squirm, and looked up at the stars, just to humour him mostly. The heavens were glittering majestically above, not a cloud in sight, the inky blackness vast and unchallenged. It was pure and perfect in its infinite darkness and natural beauty. She had never seen anything so beautiful before.

"You're right..." she muttered softly, feeling his fingers trace slow patterns over her hand as she stared upward. "I've never seen this many stars in my life...There's hardly any in London."

"There'll probably be even less in New York...That's the trouble with big cities."

Lily's grin faltered and she looked away, directing her attention to the water far below. The glorious reflection of Titanic stared back at her, the watery lights glittering just like the stars above. She didn't want to look at the stars any longer; they had presented her with a false hope, a hope that she had let fill her tonight until James's simple words had brought reality crashing back down upon her.

Everything they had done tonight - the talking, the learning, the kissing - would simply be a memory by daylight. She had to go back - there was no question about it. She didn't want to go; she'd give anything just to stay in this moment with this man for eternity, but that was an impossibility...She knew it and he knew it as well.

"Lily?" he asked softly, shifting against her. They were leaning on the rail in between two lifeboats on the Boat Deck. The night was calm, the quiet broken by the distant sounds of laughter and strings...The sounds of her world.

He knew very well that their time was limited, but he kept stalling, kept trying to gain one more precious minute with her. As much as she loved being with him, she knew he was only making it harder for the both of them. Every moment she spent with James, the more she became attached, the more bits of her heart he snatched away, and the more painful it became to think about losing him.

She didn't answer him, instead glancing up at the stars once more, trying to think of what she could say to him to make him realise that he couldn't keep doing this, that they had to stop before it hurt any worse...She opened her mouth to tell him that exactly, but the words that came tumbling out were not those that she had intended.

"Look, James!" she cried, grabbing his arm in excitement and pointing out to the sky. "A shooting star."

"Lovely," James murmured, catching the end of the dazzling white streak and smiling. "You know, my dad used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven."
Lily leaned heavily against his shoulder, enamoured by his presence, by everything about him.

"I like that...But can we still wish on it?"

He shrugged and looked at her. His hazel eyes were filled with the same sorrow, the same unwillingness to let go that filled her very being. Gently, one of his hands brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face and his hand lingered there, cupping her cheek and slowly caressing her skin with his worn thumb.

"What would you wish for?" he asked, his voice low and throaty. Lily felt something intangible pass between them and slowly, she placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled him down into a kiss; their last kiss.

It was achingly slow and sensual, showing none of the ferocity and lust of their last kisses. His lips were so gentle and sweet against hers as he deepened the kiss, pulling her further into him and keeping a lasting hold on her. She was drowning in him, needing him like the air she breathed. It took all of her willpower just to pull away, and even once she had, she couldn't resist just one more meeting.

"Something I can't have," she whispered, against his lips, pulling away. She stepped backward, going toward her world, where she...she didn't belong. This was where she belonged, where she fit, but it just wasn't possible. James turned, but didn't try to stop her, unfathomable misery in his eyes. "Goodbye, James...and thank you. For everything."

"Goodbye, Lily," he responded, his voice flat, emotionless.

She turned away, unable to look at him again, and ran away from him with her eyes clouding with distress for the second time today, though for a different reason entirely.

***

Remus was waiting for him in the general room when James came down later that night. The party was over, though a few stragglers were dancing pathetically to a lone pipest, belting out a sad, Scottish tune in the middle of the room. Across from the entranceway, Remus was seated at a table with a stormy look on his face.

James considered turning around and going to his cabin, but Remus had already spotted him, his face becoming even darker in an instant. James decided it would be in his best interest to not try Remus's temper this late at night, even though Remus looked as though he was going to yell at him anyway.

"Well, I see you've finally decided to come back," the other man stated, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at James. "I see that you're missing your jacket...So what did you and the illustrious Lily Evans do tonight? Kiss and make up? Snog relentlessly under the stars? Heighten your chances of being killed by Malfoy and company - "

"Shut up, Remus," James requested, returning Remus's glare. He didn't bother to sit down; he didn't feel like bothering to do anything at the moment.

His goodbye to Lily had been the most heart-wrenching experience of his life. When she had left him out on deck, he had felt hollow, numb inside. He didn't know what to think, what to do or feel...It was like his life had come to a stand-still, and he would never be the same James he had been only minutes before.

He would've done anything to keep her with him and stay with her forever. He didn't want to go back to his normal life and attempt to move on or forget about her. He couldn't forget about her; she was like a part of him now, a vital part that he couldn't exist without.

"Whatever happened to your brilliant plan of letting her go and never wanting to see her - " Remus continued angrily, not taking James's hint to shut his mouth.

"I'm not going to see her again, Remus, and it has nothing to do with whether or not I want to either," James responded tightly, balling his fists angrily at his sides. "And it was never my brilliant bloody plan in the first place; it was yours, and you don't know anything about what happened or what I'm feeling - "

"Oh, would you just shut up about it already?" Remus snapped, rising from his chair and looking far more furious than James had ever seen him. "You lost a girl you barely even knew to another man...So what? It happens all the time to other people - it happened to me - so don't start thinking that you're some kind of exception to the rule...She was a fling, James! Nothing important!"

"Don't you talk about her like that - "

"She could've cost you your life, James! If Malfoy ever finds about what you did tonight, you - "

Remus had been trying his temper for the last few days with his mollycoddling and unwanted concern, and James was longing to throw it back in his face. He didn't have a right to step into James's life and try to control who he talked to, who he became friends with; he was behaving like...Malfoy.

Suddenly, things became very clear to him.

"It seems to me," James interrupted, his temper reaching its peak, "that you're more concerned about Malfoy's well-being than anyone else's! All I've heard come spewing from your mouth is, 'Malfoy won't like this,' or 'This will upset Malfoy,' or 'Goodness, what a saint Malfoy is!' It's all been about bloody Malfoy, hasn't it?" Remus didn't respond, instead staring at James with a thin mouth and a glare that would make anyone else run. To James, however, his silence just made him all the guiltier, and he began to back away from the table, pointing an accusing finger at Remus. "I reckon Sirius was right about you, Remus Lupin...You are the leak."

James spun around, not caring to see Remus's reaction, and headed toward the staircase once more, not knowing where he was going, but intending it to be somewhere where Remus would not be.

He was halfway up the steps when he heard footsteps behind him and Remus's calling, "It's not like you're in love with her, damn it!"

James opened his mouth to shout at Remus once again, to say even more stupid things, but then he snapped it back shut, Remus's last words hitting him like a brick to the head.

It's not like you're in love with her, damn it!

He paused on the stairs, stunned immobile, the ten simple words repeating over and over in his head. It wasn't possible; it couldn't be possible! People didn't - he didn't - he couldn't -

But he did, and, after and above everything else, it had taken Remus's fury-filled words to convince himself that he...he...

He loved Lily.