PROMPT: Y/N has to leave and she leaves her boyfriend, James Potter, behind.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, angst

You sat nervously on the chair that Dumbledore had in his study. He called for you early in the day, waking you from your peaceful slumber in the arms of your boyfriend, James Potter. You had to carefully untangle your limbs and crawl out of bed to meet with Dumbledore. It's urgent and confidential, his note said.

"Thank you for coming so early," he cleared his throat, making himself comfortable on the seat opposite you. "This is a matter of life or death, Miss Y/L/N. I'm glad you treated it with such urgency."

You nodded, "Of course. When I agreed to be a part of the Order, I meant it. What do you need me to do, Professor?"

He looked down at his feet, as if afraid to bear the bad news. You've never once seen him like this and it only furthered the sickness in your stomach. It must really be a large ask, "As you know, the Dark Lord and his followers are getting more and more relentless."

"Yeah," you sighed, thinking back to the people you've already lost and how you could tell that people were starting to lose hope in the Order's cause.

"After the attack on the McKinnons, we realized how ruthless he and his followers are."

The images of the McKinnon family flashed in your mind. You were the one to discover them. Your best friend since 11, laying on the floor cold, surrounded by the bodies of the people you considered family. It still haunted you everyday.

Dumbledore sensed your discomfort, "My deepest condolences."

"Thank you."

"But as I was saying, after that attack, we know now that everyone is in danger," he continued, "This is where you come in. You're Muggleborn, correct?"

You let out a sound of confirmation, "Yes."

"Right. We need you to be in the Muggle world. You need to be out there protecting Muggle families of Order members. We cannot have them out there unprotected, not when there's this war going on. They're helpless. Someone needs to be out there with them. Someone who understands them but also understands our world."

"I'll do it," you said with no hesitation, "Of course I'll do it. I agree with you. Someone should be out there with them."

"I had no doubt that you would agree but there's a catch."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What is it?"

"You cannot tell anybody where you're going," he explained, leaning close to whisper the next set of directions, "Muggle families, most of them don't know what's going on and the members of the Order would feel a sense of comfort to know that there's someone— one of us— out there at least looking out for their families. You need to be discrete. And nobody, and I mean nobody, can know what you're doing."

"I understand, Professor."

"Miss Y/L/N," he repeated, voice harsher this time. It sent a shiver down your spine, hearing his authoritative voice directed at you, "I mean nobody. Not even Mr. Potter."

Your face paled, gulping down your words. You were shocked. You thought the secrecy only applied to the Muggles you were protecting, not the other wizards or witches. Especially not James. You stood up, "Why can't I tell James?"

"One must be blind if they can't see that Mr. Potter would follow you into the jaws of death to make sure you're safe," Dumbledore half-heartedly chuckled. He followed your movements and stood up, "But we simply cannot have him follow you or contact you. There's too much at risk. He will try to follow you, but we need him here. He'll try to contact you but there's a large chance that the Dark Lord and his followers will intercept it."

You remained silent. Beats passed before you even opened your mouth to speak again and when you did, no words came out. You were angry. You were upset. You were speechless because it seemed like Dumbledore was asking you to do something that you swore to yourself and to James you'd never do. You paced around his study, not caring that the Professor you once looked up to was waiting impatiently for your answer. But it hit you half-way through combing through the facts that no matter what you said, Dumbledore would still send you out there anyway and James would have to hear some convoluted story from him instead of you.

"You're asking me to break the heart of the love of my life by telling him I'm leaving him so he doesn't ask questions..." you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes, "So I can save the lives of innocent people?"

He looked at you blankly, only realizing then that that was exactly what he was asking of you. He nodded, "Yes."

"Well I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No."

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes tightly. When you opened them again, you saw the sun shyly peeking through the curtains of Dumbledore's office. James would be waking soon. With a heavy heart you asked, "When do I leave?"

"Now."

You shook your head, wiping your eyes as your tears fell, "No, no, tonight is Euphemia's and Fleamont's wedding anniversary party. I can't leave, not until I talk to James."

"Miss Y/L/N, this is an urgent matter."

"I know," you snapped, exhaling through your nose harshly. You stared at Dumbledore, not wavering in your stance, "I know it's selfish but I'm about to be selfless for Merlin knows how long. I'm about to break the heart of the love of my life and he might not ever forgive me for it. So I'm going to be selfish for one more day. With all due respect, Professor, you can keep your protective charms on them for a few more hours."

He didn't say anything else. You took it as a sign of his agreement and you quickly apparated out of his study and back into the Potters' home. You landed on their front porch, studying it very carefully. You felt sick as the realization that it may be your last time in this home forever, hit you. The war was brutal and it takes everyone it can. There was no reason as to why it would spare you.

Before you entered, you wiped your stray tears from your cheeks and mustered up a smile as you heard clattering from behind the door. You knew the Potters were up being the morning people that they all were, not to mention the fact that tonight was a busy night for them. With one last sense of normalcy, you twisted the doorknob and entered the house you've grown to call a home. Instantly, you smelled the scent of fresh breakfast and a pot of coffee that Fleamont should win awards for.

You hung your coat on the rack and wiped your shoes on the rug, scraping away the bits and pieces of the conversation with Dumbledore that lingered.

"I don't appreciate waking up alone," James called from halfway down the stairs. His hair was in disarray under his hoodie. He wore pajama pants that were discarded on the floor when you first left this morning. He sported a playful pout on his lips, stopping right in front of you, "Where were you, my love?"

"Just went out for a walk," you lied, "Couldn't sleep."

James wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on the top of your head, "Well next time, wake me. We could've gone on a walk together and I wouldn't be worried in the wee hours of the morning, wondering why my darling girlfriend has left me all alone."

You leaned up to place a loving kiss on his lips, wiping away the pout that was once there, "Sorry, love. Next time I'll wake you."

"Good," he smiled, intertwining your fingers as he dragged you to the kitchen where the wonderful aroma was coming from. His thumb absentmindedly drew shapes on the top of your hand, making your heart plunge deeper into your stomach. You squeezed his hand. You'd be giving this up.

"Morning!" Euphemia beamed, already beginning to eat the feast that was prepared for the morning, "Are you two ready for the dinner party tonight?"

"Oh, that's tonight!" James exclaimed, eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Godric, I've forgotten."

"Shame that you've forgotten such an important night," Fleamont shook his head, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup, "It's an occasion, James."

He blushed, ducking his head in hopes that you won't catch it, "Yes, I sure hope so."

You were too preoccupied with the conversation that you had with Dumbledore this morning to even notice the strange way that James was acting or the grins on his parents' faces. You merely nodded along, not really listening to their clues and conversations. You smiled at the right places and hummed at the rest. You offered no real contribution at breakfast.

Soon enough, the day began to move faster and faster and it was nightfall. Members of the Order started to trickle in the party, congratulating the Potters on such a happy and healthy marriage. It looked beautiful. There were lights strung everywhere and the food was delightful. People were at ease for the first time in over a year. It was a nice distraction from what was happening outside the safety of the Potters' home. It was well-needed.

You watched with a heavy heart as James danced with his mother. His parents celebrated their wedding anniversary with a small get together, believing that everyone deserved a little bit of fun in the midst of the heartache of the war. You sipped on your champagne, timidly, watching your boyfriend from the sidelines.

Sirius smiled at you, nudging your shoulder with his, "Hey, how are you holding up?"

"Fine, I suppose," you replied, shooting him a tight-lipped smile. You looked down at your feet, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. "Marlene would've loved this."

"She would've," he agreed, taking a sip from his glass. "I miss her."

"Me too."

The two of you stood in silence, with your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He didn't dare move, knowing that the weight that he was carrying was just as big of a burden on you. Sirius moved his glass to his opposite hand and took it all in one gulp. After the song ended, another slow one began and you felt your cheeks flush as James made his way over to you.

"Not trying to steal my girl are you, Pads?" James joked, approaching you and Sirius.

"Tried to in the past, Prongs, but it seems she only has eyes for you," Sirius winked, moving away to leave you and James alone and to bother Remus. "See you guys later."

"Bye, Siri," you waved, placing your glass down on a nearby table to wrap your arms around James' neck, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Potter?"

"Dance with me," he murmured into your skin, holding you impossibly close.

"You know I can't dance," you sighed, although you weren't making any moves to get away from him.

"Good thing, I can," James replied, already beginning to sway you back and forth, "Just follow my lead, darling."

You let yourself fall apart in his arms, letting go of all your apprehensions for the duration of the song. James hummed the melody in your ear, rubbing circles down your back. His cologne filled your senses, making your stomach turn. He kissed your temple, his lips lingering there longer than usual before he pulled away.

This was going to be difficult.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, hoping that the chatter of the guests would silence your sniffling. You couldn't help but release the tears that have been threatening to spill since the night began. Your lips quivered as you peppered kisses on his exposed skin. When the song came to an end, you sucked in a breath, intertwining your fingers with his, before leading him away to a spot away from everyone else.

James followed you without question, trusting you with every fiber of his being. You calmed yourself down before you stopped in your shared bedroom. James had a large smile on his face, still love-struck with you. You forced yourself to smile as you sat on the unmade bed.

"Y/N," James began, holding your hands in his. He was down on both knees in front of you, cupping your face with his unoccupied hand. James kissed your lips softly, letting the buzz of the party dull in the background. He focused on nothing else but the feeling of your lips on his and the love that was coursing through his veins. "My love, my darling, I love you."

James pulled away, the same smile still on his lips. He let go of your hands and your face and dug one hand into his pocket. When his hand emerged, a small ring sat in the middle of his palm and your heart shattered. You clasped your hands on top of your parted lips as you began to bawl— not for the reasons you were supposed to.

He was still oblivious to your plans and he chuckled tearfully, moving the small band in between the pads of his thumb and his index finger. James began to speak, "Y/N, I love you more than anything in the world. I knew from the moment that I met you that I was meant to be with you and only you. My love, you make this gray world so full of color and I thank you everyday for giving me a reason to keep fighting. I w—"

"James, stop," you cried, shaking your head furiously.

James furrowed his eyebrows, confused, but continuing, "No, love, let me finish. I-I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with yo—"

You pushed him off far enough to step away. Your tears were streaming down your face by now, hands shaking as the poisonous words dripped from your tongue like venom, "James, I don't want to be with you."

The only sound that could be heard was of the ring falling from his grasp. The sound of the metal hitting the ground was so loud, it almost masked the sound of James' heart breaking into pieces. He shook his head, clamoring to get to his feet. He stumbled a few times trying to reach you, the ring on the floor long forgotten.

"W-what?" he shook his head, tilting it to the left, as if pleading you to explain his misery to him, "W-what are you talking about?"

You gulped, "I don't want to be with you, James. I'm sorry, I-I can't marry you."

"Why not?" James whimpered.

The brokenness in his voice almost made your knees give out. You leaned against his desk for support as he walked closer to you. You swallowed, hating yourself for having to lie to him, "Don't, James. I just... I've changed and I don't want this anymore."

"What did I do wrong?"

"I-I.." you looked at his face, a part of your heart breaking off with every sniffle. He looked utterly ruined and you knew you caused it. You were at a loss for words so you just shook your head and shrugged.

"You fell out of love with me."

No, I could never, you wanted to yell. I'm in love with you and I have been since we were 11 and I'll never stop until the day I die because James Potter, you are the love of my life and I hate the way I have to hurt you to save the lives of others. I don't know how I'll be able to live with myself knowing that I saved people's lives at the cost of the life of the one who means the most to me.

James took your silence as confirmation. He fell back on the bed, accidentally kicking the ring to your foot in the process. You picked it up, ignoring the pang of guilt in your chest as you examined it. Engraved within it were the words: "Mrs. Potter." It was the ring Fleamont gave Euphemia when he proposed.

You looked down at the floor, placing the ring on James' desk. The sound that the ring made when it was placed down made James cringe and he looked away to hide the tears rolling down his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it after realizing that there was nothing you could say now to make things better.

You opened the door and walked downstairs, staring longingly out the window to watch the party in full swing. In the corner, you saw Dumbledore, nursing a glass of champagne. His eyes met yours and he tipped his head, knowing exactly what just transpired in your absence from the party.

With one last look up the steps, perhaps debating if you should run back up there and tell James the truth, you shrugged on your coat and walked out of the Potters' house for the last time.