I remember clearly the night I fell in love with James Potter. …Okay, so I didn't fall in love with him in one night. I fancy myself a strong enough person to take more than a heartbeat to change my opinion. It had been a bit of a process, and I'd slowly been changing my mind, but I clearly remember the night when it all came to a head.
James approached me in mid-October with the news that Dumbledore intended to have a parade at the end of the year in which the Heads would be required to ride together on a broomstick for ogling purposes (I report that verbatim. He honestly used the word "ogling" in front of me with a straight face and his eyes never leaving mine. I must admit I was impressed). Naturally, I didn't believe him. He may have been Head Boy and we may have been friends, but that was just the sort prank Potter would pull when I least expected it. I found Dumbledore and, to my dismay, discovered that James had not been lying.
Suddenly I was faced with the apprehension of riding on a broomstick. I cannot stress enough how terrified I am of flying. I took the flying lessons as a first year, but after that I never touched a broomstick again. I was positive I could get everywhere I needed to by Apparition, Floo, muggle transportation or my own two feet. I would not use a broomstick. I adamantly told Dumbledore that he must be off his rocker if he expected me to mount a broom for any length of time longer than two seconds. That's when he dealt his low blow.
"But Miss Evans, would you really deprive the school of a view of their Head Girl, and in the process disappoint your Headmaster and your Head Boy?"
To this day I don't know if I was more concerned about upsetting Dumbledore or James. In either case, I found myself saying yes and agreeing to practise riding backseat on a broom.
Do you understand what that means? I didn't.
It meant I agreed to spend an evening with James.
On a broom.
Me!
Spend an evening with the boy I might possibly fancy ON A BROOM?
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be happy or terrified. I settled on a mixture of both, which left me feeling nauseous.
On the chosen night, James escorted me from the Gryffindor Common Room out to the Quidditch pitch. We first stopped by the broom shed to grab a broom.
"But don't you have one?" I asked him.
"'Course I do," he replied easily, fumbling with the lock, "but I figured a slower school broom would be a better choice for your first ride. Mine's one of the fastest models, and while I enjoy speed, I don't want to scare you before you've ever left the ground." He smiled at me as he successfully opened the door and walked in to grab a broom.
I was touched. I couldn't believe he was abandoning his obviously better broom just so I would be comfortable. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever done.
A loud noise brought my attention back to the broom shed. Moments later James appeared, embarrassed. "I tripped and knocked 'em over," he said, his face flushed. It was cute and endearing. I smiled at him and gestured towards the pitch.
This is the point when the evening got interesting. James hooked a leg over the broom and told me to do the same. I did. Once I straddled the broom, however, I didn't know what to do with my hands. For the first time since I'd heard of the parade, it occurred to me that to fly on a broom with James, I would have to hold on to him. As in touch him. As in physical contact.
I hesitantly placed my hands on his shoulders. He said nothing, so I figured this would be all right, especially for a parade where we wouldn't (shouldn't…) be moving too fast.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," I replied meekly.
The broom shot up. I screamed and wrapped my arms around his waist.
"Calm down, Lily," he said gently. "We've barely started."
"You jerked us up!" I hollered. "It was scary. I had reason to—AAAAH!"
I don't know if he was trying to kill me or if he just enjoyed my pain (and for the record I so did not fancy him at that moment (even though it felt reeeaaally nice holding on to him)), but he had hurled the broom forward so that we reached the other end of the Quidditch pitch in what I was sure was record timing. The broom came to an abrupt halt mere millimetres away from those hoop thingies the big red ball goes through and I was slammed into James' back. After I was sure the broom wasn't going to move, I disentangled one arm (only one, mind—I held onto James with the other like Death himself was staring me in the face) and hit the Head Boy in the back of the head.
"What was that for?" I snapped. "I thought you were going to take things slowly so I didn't die of fright, which I may very well do right now! Or better yet, I'll die of trauma!"
"That wasn't me," he said, his voice shaky. "The broom just took off—"
He was cut off as we shot across the pitch. I screamed and latched onto James like a leech. …Okay, so that may be a lousy example, but I did do my best to squeeze James' innards out through his nose (thank goodness I didn't—would have made possibly dating him at some point (but only possibly because I would never (or so I thought at the time) do it) a bit…disgusting) as the broom bucked and started and stopped and generally took us on a chaotic ride.
"What—the—bloody—" I dimly heard James growl out over my screams. He jerked the broom sharply to the left and I felt my supper come up before he jerked the broom back to the right and my supper fell back down my throat.
The broom paused, at least for the moment.
"I'm going to be ill," I said, resting my forehead on James' back.
"I'm so sorry, Lily," James said, "I don't know what's up with this broom—wait, did you say ill?"
I chose that moment to tilt my head to the side as the vomit reentered my throat and fell out my mouth.
The broom chose that moment to drop itself down and to the side just enough so we got splattered with Lily Innards.
James chose that moment to swear.
I simply threw up again.
I will love James Potter forever because instead of getting mad or hollering obscenities (well, okay, he already hollered obscenities, but ignoring that minor detail), he turned around and gently cleaned me up using an assortment of spells I was too lightheaded to notice before doing the same to himself. Then he gently stroked my hair and asked, "Are you going to be all right?"
If I wasn't in love with him before, I certainly was after that. He was so sweet and caring.
The broom tried to buck us off at that point, ruining the tender moment, and James nearly fell off, sitting in such a weird, half-turned position as he was. I returned my arms to his waist and closed my eyes against our impending doom. At least if I was going to die, I would die with the man I loved, out under the stars and with a completely empty stomach.
We didn't die, though, because James performed this amazing mid-air wrestle with the broom that safely landed us on the ground. Funny how the instant we touched ground the broom seemed to die.
James turned to me almost immediately and checked me over to make sure there wasn't any lasting damage. There wasn't—now that we were on the ground, I felt mostly fine, if a bit shaken, and a bit famished since I'd just emptied my stomach of its contents.
"Lily, I am so, so, so sorry," he said sincerely.
"Don't be—it's not your fault," I replied. Then I paused, suspicion creeping in. "…Is it?"
"What? Uh, no, no it's not. Don't be ridiculous. Did I say I'm sorry?"
My suspicion left me and I merely offered him a weak smile.
"Come on," he said, "let's head back to the castle. We can try this broom thing again some other time with a safer broom—or better yet, my room. Broom! My broom! I meant broom! Merlin I need a new tongue…"
I giggled at him. Slipping my hand into his, I said, "Perhaps." I started back towards the castle, but was pulled back to James when he didn't move. I quirked an eyebrow at him, but he was too busy gawking at our entwined hands. "…James?"
His eyes lifted to me before quickly returning to our hands. I gave a gentle tug. "Come on, it's more than a bit nippy, out and I'd like to see if I can find something to eat now that there's nothing left in my stomach."
"But…but you—and me—and hand—" I smiled at him. He looked back at me, a grin lighting up his face. "You know, Lily, I think tonight has been very productive, even if we did nearly die on the broom."
"Mm, perhaps," I said again, walking back to the castle, James Potter's hand firmly in mine and the Broomstick of Doom lying forgotten on the floor of the pitch.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
It's all Remus' fault, really, why Lily and I got together. If it wasn't for him, she'd probably still hate me.
About a week into Seventh Year, Remus burst into the Marauder Dorm and announced, "I have a plan."
Those words are not uncommon in our messy abode, but coming from Remus and without any prompting from me or Sirius makes them Special. We dropped everything we were doing and formed a three-person circle around Remus.
"Well, what's this plan?" Sirius demanded.
"Yeah!" Peter squeaked.
"Well?" I asked.
Remus took a deep breath. "It's about Lily."
"Oh bollocking—who ruddy well cares?" Sirius exclaimed. "I thought we were implementing Operation Pretend James Doesn't Madly Love Lily So That Maybe She'll Get The Hint And Stop Making His Ruddy Life Bloody Well Miserable And Just Snog Him Already?"
(Operation PJDMLLSTMSGTHASMHRLBWMAJSHA. Peter came up with it, actually—yeah, we were surprised, too.)
Sirius had a point, although I (offendedly (which is too a word, Remus—your dictionary does NOT know all. That special privilege is reserved for JAMES POTTER)) pointed out that I cared about anything to do with Lily.
"That was before I found out she hates brooms," Remus said.
"But we've always known she hates brooms," Peter said.
"Yes, but I didn't know."
"Moony Emphasis! Explain!" Sirius demanded.
"I was talking to Lily just now down in the Common Room," Remus said. "We were casually talking about fears and she explained to me how much she hates brooms—yes, yes, Sirius, I know 'hate' and 'fear' are two different things, don't interrupt me—and don't interrupt to point out that you didn't interrupt! Anyway, I asked her if she would ever get on a broom again and she vehemently said no, because to be on a broom she'd have to clutch at the person in front of her, and full-body contact is not only not appealing to her but full-body contact in the air where she could possibly fall to her death once she realized what she was doing and accidentally let go is not appealing to her."
I had an inkling where this was going, and if Remus was going in that direction, I would happily drop Operation PJDMLLSTMSGTHASMHRLBWMAJSHA.
"And?" Sirius prompted.
"And so all we have to do is get her in the air on a broom with James and she'll be his! And not just any broom, but a broom that's wildly out of control so she'll have to hold on for dear life!"
Goodbye Operation PJDMLLSTMSGTHASMHRLBWMAJSHA.
..And I would like it known that hearing such an insane idea from Moony is weird and makes me wonder if he and Padfoot accidentally switched brains, which Sirius has been threatening to do since we were three (read: third years (yes that technically makes us only seven now, but whatever—seven-year-olds can snog—oh sick, gross mental image there, never mind we're all actually SEVENTEEN and this has nothing to do with my story)).
"Remus, Moony, my man, you sound too much like me," Sirius said, grinning. "I can die happy now."
"Please do."
"Hey!"
"Boys!" I interrupted. "Back to the dilemma at hand. How do we get my Lily on a broom with me without kidnapping her, which will undoubtedly ruin the entire plan in the first place?"
It took us about three days to come up with a solution to this problem, and it was in the middle of History of Magic that Sirius came up with the bright idea.
"I've got it!" he hissed, quiet enough that Lily wouldn't hear (she was only three seats away and probably the only person to ever pay attention to Binns' naff class) yet loud enough that all of us could hear. "Prongs, tell her you two've got to ride a broom together as Heads for a parade that Dumbledore's holding in March or something, and you've got to practise!"
"Yeah, because she'd believe that," I scoffed.
"James has a point," Remus said. Peter nodded.
"Then get Dumbledore in on the plan and have him tell her she has to do it," Sirius replied.
We were all silent for a moment.
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I said, perhaps a little too loudly (okay, maybe way too loudly).
"And why, Mr Potter, is Urg the Unclean trying to behead Bodred the Bearded the dumbest thing you've ever heard?" Professor Binns asked.
I usually always have a clever and witty answer for questions like that, but I got a bit distracted at that moment by Lily looking at me, and I swear I she almost smiled. I was so thrown off by her almost-smile that I stuttered and landed myself in detention for a week, despite being Head Boy.
"You're getting rusty," Sirius commented to me once Binns went back to lecturing. I scowled at him.
"At least I'm not mental to suggest including Dumbledore in our mad schemes."
"Maybe you should be," Remus interjected. "Lily would believe Dumbledore."
My friends are mental.
I'm mental because I was coerced into asking Dumbledore for help.
Dumbledore. The Headmaster.
I swear Sirius has been rubbing off on Moony. Seven years is apparently too much for our poor werewolf to keep his sanity.
It was mid-September when I grudgingly agreed to talk to the Headmaster. I managed to avoid it for a week because of my detention, and then I didn't talk about it at all and hoped my mates had forgotten their mad plan. Remus cornered me in mid-October, a month after Sirius concocted his plan, and forcibly dragged me to Dumbledore's office. I hesitantly knocked on his door and was given entrance. Dragging my feet up the stairs into the office proper, I hung my head as I walked to the seat Dumbledore offered me. This was embarrassing—it was akin to asking your mum if she minded you colouring on the wall: stupid.
"How may I help you, James?" Dumbledore asked. "Lemon drop?"
"No thank you, sir," I mumbled. Well, I was here; I might as well get it over with. Looking the Headmaster in the eye, I said, "I have a request. A crazy, psychotic request that Moo—er, uh, Remus agrees with. In fact, he's the one who dragged me here. So if you think I'm mental, blame it on Remus and Sirius because they're the ones who devised this mad scheme."
Dumbledore just sat there looking amused. It was horribly embarrassing, knowing that amusement was justified.
"Well, sir, see, Remus discovered Lily's none too keen on brooms, which we already knew, but he thinks it would be brill to stick her and me on one, and somehow that's going to encourage her affection, but to do so we need a legitimate excuse or else she'll never agree, and that's when Sirius thought we ought to invent some sort of parade you're sponsoring where the Heads have to ride on a broom together for whatever reason and so we need to practise and then the lousy wankers---er, uh, I mean, er, blokes, that's when the blokes suggested I bring you in on our mad plan so Lily will believe she has to spend time with me on a broom."
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, and he said, "Of course I'll help you boys out."
He agreed.
He agreed to help us out. (And then dismissed me, but I was too shocked to notice).
HE AGREED.
Barmy old man.
The next task was to find Lily. I figured I'd tell her first and let her find Dumbledore on her own because there was no way I could be in the same room with the two of them discussing our little faux parade and not burst out laughing from the insanity of this entire situation. Sirius helped me track her down (Peter was off with the Map doing Merlin knows what), offering encouragement to me. Unfortunately, encouragement from Sirius comes in the form of statements like, "Remember to ogle her surreptitiously—direct and obvious ogling results in hexes and trips to the Hospital Wing and we spend enough time in there as it is." Even more unfortunate was the fact that my brain is so honed in to Sirius' wavelength that I couldn't get the word "ogle" out of my head. As such I made sure to look only at her eyes when I finally found her.
"Hey, Lily."
"Oh, hi, James."
"I've been looking for you. I, uh, just saw Dumbledore, and apparently he's planning a parade sometime later in the year that involves the two us. And by involves us I mean the Heads are required to ride together on a broomstick for ogling purposes."
I did not just say that. Except that I did. To my credit, I managed to keep my eyes firmly on Lily's and never even twitched in another direction, although I was desperately tempted to. I can just hear Sirius laughing (probably had something to do with the fact that he was standing right next to me. At least he managed to keep his chuckles quiet. Prat).
I quickly vacated the area and prayed Dumbledore wasn't lying when he said he'd help us out. I didn't even want to imagine how their conversation would go…
Luckily, the old man wasn't lying and within the week Lily and I had a date (WOOHOO, A DATE! Yes, yes, a practise date, and a bit of a forced date, but a date nonetheless!) to practise flying on a broom and to ease her into the idea of it (she was bloody well terrified, although she'd never use the word "terrified." She'd prefer "upset" or "grouchy").
The Night finally approached. My friends surreptitiously left the Common Room before I got Lily so they would be at the broom shed before us and could pick a broom to charm/curse/hex. At the appointed time I approached Lily and escorted her to the pitch. It's funny, but I wasn't nervous about the plan anymore after she joined me. Before I was ready to wee my pants like a little girl that she might find out and bean me with a stone block, but once I was in her company I forgot my worries and let myself enjoy the time I got to spend with my girl.
Once we got to the broom shed I left her outside as I went in to grab a broom. The boys were standing there, grinning as they handed me the broom they'd tampered with. "What's with the grinning?" I whispered.
"Oh, you'll see," Sirius whispered back. I scowled.
"You lot didn't go and do anything stupid that you'll regret later when I'm pummeling your face in, did you?" I demanded.
"Of course not," Remus said. "Now go before Lily wonders if the brooms have eaten you." I huffed as I turned around and started heading out. That's when Peter decided to just fall over and knock down about half the brooms as well.
"Wormtail," I hissed, "you're going to ruin everything!"
"But there was a rat!" he whimpered back.
"Wormtail, you thick blockhead, you are a rat," Sirius said peevishly.
"I know…" came the sheepish reply. I left at that moment to make sure Lily hadn't left me. Thankfully she was still standing right where I'd left her, a bit of a puzzled look on her face. Oh, right, the noises from inside…. Look embarrassed, Potter! I did my best.
"I tripped and knocked 'em over," I said, hoping she'd know I meant the brooms. She smiled at me and I pulled a girl moment: I blushed. Me! James Potter! I blushed over a girl's smile! Thank Merlin Sirius hadn't seen that. He'd take the mickey out of me for sure (and I'm not even sure I could blame him for it. If I'd seen him blush, I'd mock him till the end of my days. It's only fair.)
I finally gained confidence once we were both seated on the broom. I was in my element. I could fly with the best of them. And I was soon going to have Lily Evans crushed against my backside. I grinned, glad she was behind me. She gently put her hands on my shoulders and I about died right there from sheer happiness. I honestly think it was the first time she'd ever touched me—no, wait, I'm wrong. She slapped me once in fifth year. But this was the first good touching we'd ever had. And soon there'd be more! Glee!
Ahem. I am not a girl, I swear.
It occurred to me that I ought to have her wrap her arms around my waist, but I figured she'd discover that on her own soon enough. (I was right.)
We had barely risen into the air (Lily was gripping me like death itself was on her heels—ahh, bliss) when Remus (I figured it was him—Sirius didn't have the head for charms. He'd have blown us up and that would have ruined the entire evening) starting working his magic. If you'd call it magic. Which I did, considering it made Lily embrace me. The point is I'd barely gripped the broom properly when the broom was instantaneously transported to the hoops at the far end of the field. I was almost too busy thanking Merlin that I had a firm hold on the broom to notice Lily's screams, but after so long of the sound right beside your ear, you really can't ignore it. Her cries were blessedly ended when she slammed into my back (which hurt—she is not a wee tiny slip of a girl, regardless of what the scales and measuring devices claim). I honestly wondered if my spine had been cracked by her impact. It wouldn't surprise me. I was too afraid to move in case I really had ruined my spine because I'd heard that if you move when your spine's been injured you're permanently stuck in that position, and the idea of being stuck in a half twist (I would have turned around to see my fireball—she's too gorgeous to ignore even when she's injuring my spine) was utterly unappealing.
Of course, even more unappealing was the thought of her yelling at me all night, and once she realized she could breathe and not fall off the broom she started hollering in a voice that could probably rival McGonagall's.
"That was bloody fascinating, James, and I couldn't be happier! We should do it again!"
…At least, that's what I wanted her to say. What she actually said (screamed, really) was something more along the lines of, "What was that for? I thought you were going to take things slowly so I didn't die of fright, which I may very well do right now! Or better yet, I'll die of trauma!"
Merlin has she got a set of lungs. That much yelling in that close a proximity left my insides jelly, causing my voice to shake as I replied, "That wasn't me, the broom just took off—"
But I never got to defend myself because Remus sent us flying through the air at that moment and Lily suddenly did her best to remove all oxygen from my system (including the oxygen in my blood stream. I swear she could have sliced me in half with her grip). And did I care? No (okay, maybe a little), because she was holding on to me as if I were the only thing that mattered in her life. What I wouldn't give to be the only thing that mattered in her life. I love her…I honestly do, sappy thought that confession may be…
BIRD!
I jerked the broom to the left to avoid the sucker, only to feel Remus jerk me back to the right before abruptly ending the mad broom ride. I vaguely heard Lily say something ("I'm going to be ill,"), but I was speculating how to sound apologetic without letting on that I wasn't.
"Lil, I'm sorry," I started, "I don't know what's going on with this stick of wooooo—did you say ill?"
She did. I discovered this because she tilted her head to the side to upchuck and Remus, the wanker, dropped the broom just so we would get covered in Lily Ick.
AAH! MY BROOM IS RUINED. IT'S NOW COVERED IN STOMACH ACID. Insert a few choice words that I really shouldn't repeat. BLOODY EFFING—
She threw up AGAIN.
Ohh sick (yeah, yeah, I made a pun, woo hoo, my broom is covered in VOMIT—
Oh, wait, this isn't my broom, it's a school broom. Heh. Right, then. Attend to the girl.)
I cleaned us up with a few spells I've had to learn over the years thanks to our monthly escapades in the Shrieking Shack. I did a pretty good job of it, if I do say so myself. And then, I just couldn't help myself. Lily just looked so vulnerable and pretty and completely incapable of hitting me if I touched her that I had to reach out and stroke her hair. It was as soft as it looked (not that, you know, I'd ever looked or anything).
I don't know what I did, but I'd do it again a hundred times because I swear she was going to kiss me before stupid Remus and his effing wand had to try and buck us off the bleeding broom. I, being the uber suave and macho man that I was, nearly fell off because I wasn't holding on. That would have sucked—finally got the girl to almost make a move, and then I fall to my untimely death. Well, at least it would have been on Remus' conscience forever and I could have haunted him for all I was worth.
I decided I was through being yanked about the pitch like a rag doll and landed us on the ground, despite the fact that we'd only been in the air for a measly…ten-ish minutes. Maybe seventeen, but twenty was pushing it.
Once safely on the ground, I gave Lily a thorough checking over (mostly so I could "innocently" touch her. Bahah. She never suspected my ulterior motives) and a fake sincere apology. "Lily, I am so, so, so sorry."
"Don't be, James, it's not your fault," she gently said. I just about grinned until she added, her voice full of suspicion, "Is it?"
Oh crap. Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap. She knows. She knows and now I'm going to get slapped again (never mind that last time was back in fifth year) and this is the end of something beautiful we never had a chance to have.
"What? Uh, no, no it's not. Don't be ridiculous. Did I say I'm sorry?"
What a lame thing to say. Uh, no, no it's not? Yeah, as if that doesn't say "kick me, I'm guilty!"
Do you know what she did? DO YOU?
She.
Believed.
Me.
Either that or she just suffered some serious mental trauma from the broom experience and isn't thinking straight. Either way, I was going to let her be happy and not wonder about me.
"Come on," I said, "let's head back to the castle. We can try this broom thing again some other time with a safer broom—or better yet, my room. Broom! My broom! I meant broom!"
I can't believe I said that.
Yeah, this is me, cringing.
Miraculously, she grabbed my hand and only said, "Perhaps," as she started walking back to the castle.
…Wait, grabbed my hand?
Hand?
Mine?
Me?
Her?
What?
"James, come on," she said, a bit impatiently. "It's a bit nippy out and I'd like to see if I can find something to eat now that there's nothing left in my stomach."
Hands?
Holding hands?
Us?
"But…but you—and me—and hand—" Well, for once my brain and mouth seem to be communicating with each other. TOO BAD IT BLOODY WELL HAD TO BE OVER THAT.
But then she smiled, and all my troubles seemed to vanish. I grinned. "You know, Lily, I think tonight has been very productive, even if we did nearly die."
"Mm, perhaps," she replied as we walked back up to the castle.
My grin widened. Lily Evans was holding my hand, and she had been the one to instigate the hand-holding. I thanked Remus for his brilliant plan to put us on a broomstick together, because without that ridiculous stunt, who knows when Lily might have opened up to me? Merlin, I could have graduated and never held that girl's hand, or kissed her!
…Ooh, kissing…
I think I might go try that one right now.
XxxxxxxxxX
"So, Moony," Sirius said as he picked up the broom Prongs had left on the pitch, "how'd you know that throwing Evans on a broom with our Prongsie would do the trick?"
Moony smiled. "While Lily and I were talking, she may have accidentally alluded to the fact that she might possibly have a mad crush on James, and it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge into dating him."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "I see."
"Wait, what's that got to do with her being afraid of brooms?" Wormtail asked.
"Absolutely nothing," Moony replied.
"I don't get it," Wormtail said.
"What I really want to know," Moony mused, "is how James is going to break the news to her that the parade was a façade?"
XxxxxxxxxxxX
A/N: Looky, I live! Surprising, yeah? A couple of thank yous: Thanks to my roommate Cathryn for taking me her motoscooter Zoey, which is where I got the idea for this story in the first place. Thanks to Runa for mentioning me on her blog so that when I randomly googled my name (yes, I was vain enough and bored enough to do that), I found a surprise that left me smiling for days—this story is for you, for making my heart smile (even though you didn't know you did).
Lastly, nobody's looked this story over but me. Take that as you will…
I hope y'all enjoyed this one-shot. Happy November, one and all!