"I told you! No!" Lily slammed her hand on the hard wooden table and glared at him until the light of the fire was reflected in her eyes. They were like emeralds, except frightening…more precious. That detail hardly helped. He kept telling himself that this would be the last time. The last time. After this, he would go on as many double dates as Sirius wanted, no questions asked. He was a bit sick of turning out his pockets, too. Sirius had won their last five official bargains hands down, along with countless other wagers. Obviously, betting was pointless. He was not a betting man when it came to Lily Potter, no, Lily Evans, and Sirius won every time.
"Lily. It's not that I find you particularly charming, but you have to admit- you've reached a new threshold of tolerance for me, haven't you?"
He smiled, wondering in this desperate ploy whether she would take the bait. The stakes had been raised. His insides squirmed more than usual. He was normally quite uncomfortable and he could never quite talk to her the way he talked to other girls, but for once he took it to new heights. He had once reassured himself that this sinking feeling was good. Pain was good. It meant that she was special, though it never got him any results. She glared at him, walking briskly out of the Gryffindor common room. Head Girl and Head Boy, they were stuck together again.
"Wait…Lily!"
She turned her head so rapidly he thought in his tired imagination that it might snap off. Even she flinched a little. "What do you want? Let's just get this over with!"
"You didn't answer my question. You…tolerate me more now, don't you?" He felt as if the butterflies in his stomach were taking over, but he finally realized, after seven years, that he had nothing to lose. Still, it felt disgusting, like this was more than a ploy. It certainly felt more real than he had planned for it to be.
"What on earth are you talking about, James?"
"You actually take me seriously, now. You don't call me Potter anymore."
"What?"
She blushed furiously, then scrambled to recover. "POTTER! This… this isn't about me!" She said it, spluttering and not convinced of that the effect it was supposed to have. "You finally acknowledge my name is Lily! I'm just returning the favor!"
He had to admit, this was a bit of a blow to his pride. His stomach was full of step-dancing Cornish pixies. Of all girls, she would notice. Was this hope, or weakness on his part?
"That's right, you git! Do you finally know who you're talking to?" Her stance was uncharacteristically defensive.
He had to admit, she had never gotten so worked up before.
"Well, do you?" She was fuming, and for once he could not see why. He had let his guard down, didn't he? Wasn't that what she was waiting for? It left him in a strange dilemma. Was he…actually getting to her? Cool!
"What the hell is wrong with you, Potter? Why do you insist on doing this to me?" She was calming, but he could tell that she was raging inside.
"Maybe I just want you to say yes, for once?" If she wasn't going to make sense, then he wouldn't even try to!
Finally, they shared a thought. They shouldn't have volunteered for late Saturday night patrol of the corridors. Dumbledore, of course, had asked very politely, didn't he?
"That explains nothing."
Darn.
"What do you expect me to say?"
"You started this, so answer me!"
They had stopped walking in the middle of a long hallway. All of the portraits were asleep, and any argument that they might have would be masked by the snores. Of course, the snoring was kind of hard to talk over, too….
"Well?"
Oh. She was still there. His head was pounding, now. Nothing seemed normal. For once, she was the one who wouldn't let him off the hook. For once, he wanted her to leave him alone.
"It's been about seven years, Potter, and I'm so sick of it! Did you hear that right? YES. You make me sick! I get migraines, Potter! MIGRAINES!" She gestured wildly, looking a bit mad.
He shook his head, bewildered.
"DO YOU?"
He wondered why men were attracted to women in the first place.
"DAMN IT, JAMES! DAMN IT! You don't, Potter! You don't know what you do to me! My head pounds because…because…"
Wait. Did Lily Evans just tell him that she actually thought about him?
"BECAUSE you exist! NEWTS are coming up, and you…you keep coming up to me with these…these…inane little plots to get my attention…"
He stared at her. She was like no other girl. No other girl would let herself come to such a point in time.
She closed her eyes and grabbed his shoulders firmly. He tried to convince himself that it was a combination of the irritating snores filling the corridor (where were they, again? He felt vulnerable all of a sudden) and the stress of being so perfect. It had nothing to do with him. This was not the Lily that he fell in love with, right? Now he was focusing on her pretty little head, bowed in front of him, and counted three white hairs spaced among the other brilliant red ones.
He waited for her to shake him. Then he would have an excuse to step back and pretend that this was just another awkward moment, but it wasn't. Something told him to stay still.
"Could you just…stop?" Her voice was exasperated, quite exhausted. "Sometimes, you ask me out a few times a day, and expect me to actually listen to you. The thing is, if I listen to you, I actually get tired of listening to you."
That wasn't new, was it?
She seemed to be trying to reason her way out of this. "I have to actually acknowledge your existence, acknowledge your request, and process it. This takes energy."
He nods slowly. "So this breakdown is my fault."
She took her hands, or, rather, her sweaty palms, off him. Too bad she wouldn't look at him anymore. "It's not a breakdown."
Which, in girl-language, meant that it was.
He softened, wondering if she would confide in him at all. "What's wrong, Lily?"
She had her head in her arms.
"I'll stop asking you, but what happened to you?"
"Will you promise to give me my space if I say yes? I need my space, and it's apparent that you won't give me space unless you have your way. My head hurts because you keep popping up all over the place, and I have a lot on my mind in the space that you haven't invaded it yet."
He reminded himself that it was very late at night. This couldn't be real.
On the other hand, she was suddenly businesslike. "So if I say yes, can you give me two promises?"
This seemed kind of anti-climactic. He finally broke her will and caught her off guard, and they were just standing there negotiating terms of surrender.
"Well, what promises?"
"One, I'm only agreeing to one date. I'm not your girl, even if I let you win. Two, I won't find you snogging someone in a closet until NEWTS are over."
"But that's in two months!"
"Take it or leave it…James."
For a shadow of a second, her face softened. He had been waiting for this moment, and much of his reasoning told him that he did not want it. He had to want it, though. Why didn't he want it?
She sighed. "We've been wasting our time, then, haven't we?"
He closed his eyes and opened them again. Maybe this sinking feeling was remorse. She was treating him like a little boy, and he was wondering if that was okay with him. These decisions seemed harder because they were alone.
"No. I'll take it. May I have two promises from you too, so that it's fair? Please?"
She gave him a devilish grin. He couldn't believe his luck, but he realized that Sirius would kill him for this. More accurately, he would die for both of the conditions he was about to state.
"I like this side of you, James."
"Then trust me, it won't last. We'll be…normal again tomorrow, right?"
"Only if it means that you'll stop being such a git around me. What do you want me to promise?"
Her laugh would be prettier if it weren't so self-assured. He decided that he liked it anyway. He finally won his bet with Sirius, and maybe a little more.
"One, you can't treat this date like it's our last."
"Who said I would, James?"
Did she just giggle? Maybe he just won a whole lot more.
"Two, Sirius is paying for it, and you have to trust me when I say that this has nothing to do with you."
"How much do you owe him again?" As they walked back to the common room, James took her hand and she didn't resist.
"We'll ask him tomorrow morning over breakfast."
Whether she liked it or not, he wanted to salvage as much pride as he could after such a strange victory.