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Clandestine by colorfulwonder

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Rating: PG-13. Created: April 26th, 2008. Updated: February 9th, 2015. Read Reviews (10)
Disclaimer: Characters, the magical world, etc, is property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros, not the owner of this fic.

The cold air swept through his hair as he sagged against a wall. Too much, too much, just too much excitement for one day and his nerves were shot, gone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, carelessly rolled but cautiously handled. Cradling it between fingers, he pulled out a Muggle lighter and click, click, clicked it until flame appeared, the brought it to the joint's end. He breathed in deep, flooding his lungs with smoke and good feelings. Sliding down the wall, he tipped his head back and let the smoke back out out out into the night air. He felt relaxed and felt his soul unclench and his brain release. It felt good. He forgot about her and about his parents and about his teachers looking discreetly at him during class. He forgot about it all and just sat.


He sat alone in the back corner of the room, it's just how it was. He'd sit and watch, watch everything that happened, from Alice Williams' foot tapping a beat into the floor to Peter Pettigrew's showing socks in row three. He was tired today, but he supposed that was considered normal for him. He had barely settled his back against the hard chair when there was a flurry of movement to his immediate right. His head jerked towards it as Lily arranged her books on the table in front of them, her uniform shirt clean and white and hurting his eyes. He shut them, brow furrowed, mind whirring and without answers. She finished arranging her things and turned to him, damn those wide eyes, looking so innocently at his pale face. She smiled when he looked back.

"Hello, James." Simple. It was always simple with her and yet so complicated. She was like that. His mouth twitched in return, almost in the imitation of a smile, but he had forgotten how. She took it pleasantly, as always. She slid him a piece of parchment. "Do you have a quill?"

Of course he didn't, he didn't have anything except himself anymore. He responded to her with his eyes. She slipped a quill on top of the parchment and placed an inkwell between them. He stared unbelievingly at the items, then back at her, and she just smiled and began writing as the teacher talked.


He did have a conscience, it just wasn't functioning right then. All he knew was that she was beautiful and lovely and kept appearing around him. He liked it. He wondered why she, of all people, kept approaching him, of all people. He wondered why he didn't scare her away. She approached him again, subtly this time, in the hall after lunch. He was walking slowly, cushioning his tender limbs. She came up to him from the front and placed a hand delicately on his chest to stop his progression. The warmth permeated his shirt and burned his skin. She rested it there for a moment more, feeling his ribs through the thin material, then took her hand back and pierced him with her eyes.

"Come with me?" she asked, but he knew it wasn't a question. He followed.


Author's Note: I know my chapters are outrageously short, but I will definitely update much more often if I keep them like this. Thanks for reading!

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