Whether or not James Potter's seventeenth birthday landing on a Hogsmeade date was a coincidence was a question that was never answered; some said that Professor McGonagall had orchestrated it, out of secret fondness for the best Transfiguration student in the school. Others insisted that it must have been the work of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. The more rational students, who didn't particularly care for mindless gossip about James Potter anyway, said that it was just a coincidence, and who really wanted to see those idiots get roaring drunk in the middle of the day?
James woke up sober. He fought his way through the enormous pile of presents that sat at the foot of his bed, stared lovingly at his new racing broom for at least ten minutes, tried to fly it around the dormitory (he would later try this again in a more inebriated state, with horrible results) and shared a quarter of a bottle of Firewhiskey – Peter's gift – with his best friends. He was in a very good mood indeed by the time the four of them descended to the Great Hall for breakfast, a mood only bettered by the sight of a bright blue, cloudless ceiling.
Lily Evans was not having a particularly good day, and she had only been awake for a few hours. Last week Gilbert Chambers had asked her if she'd like to go with him to Hogsmeade, and despite feeling that she would rather not, Lily hadn't been able to help herself from saying 'yes, all right' at the sight of his hopeful expression; after all, he was rather sweet, and he'd been very grateful for her help with Potions last year …
But now, as she toyed listlessly with her porridge, she was regretting her decision. After all, what did they really have in common? He was a Hufflepuff, and wasn't in any of her classes now except Charms, and he didn't like Quidditch … but perhaps, perhaps that was a good reason to go out with him – to get to know what he did like! Oh, but what if he tried to kiss her?
"Good morning!" said a voice loudly in her ear, causing her to drop her spoon on Mary Macdonald's newspaper.
"What – sorry, Mary! Oh – good morning, James …"
"Good morning," James repeated, swinging his long legs over the bench beside her; around him, Sirius, Peter and Remus sat down too, looking far too cheerful even for a Saturday.
"Have you been drinking?" Lily asked suspiciously, as James leant across her for the milk jug and she caught a definite whiff of Firewhiskey.
"No," said James. "Or perhaps yes. How would you know?"
"Your breath stinks," Lily told him bluntly, and not entirely truthfully – though James didn't appear offended at all. On the contrary, he looked rather amused.
"And how would you know what this alcohol – what my breath – what alcohol breath – what it smells like?"
"Eloquent," said Lily. "I turned seventeen in January, remember? I know what Firewhiskey smells like."
Across the table, Sirius swallowed a huge mouthful of bacon butty and said, "oh yeah, that was a great party, Evans. I'm still recovering."
Lily laughed, then saw Gilbert Chambers sitting down at the Hufflepuff table and stopped at once, feeling extremely guilty about the part of her that had been hoping he'd overslept, or been feeling too ill …
"… Three Broomsticks?"
It took Lily a second to register that James was speaking to her again; she hastily removed her gaze from the Hufflepuff table before Gilbert could look up and turned back to James.
"Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Want to come with us to the Three Broomsticks?" James asked cheerfully. "We're going to drink lots."
"We're going to the Hog's Head after, too," added Remus, who looked as if he was extremely aware of the potential problems this plan could cause, but choosing to ignore them.
"Don't tell Rosmerta that, it'd break her poor heart," said Sirius.
All four boys looked at Lily expectantly.
"Oh," she said, trying to unscramble her brain. If she was being quite honest with herself, which she tried to be, she would much rather spend the day with this group, who were a great laugh now they'd stopped with the random corridor hexes – but she had promised Gilbert …
"We realise this is a very exclusive invitation, Evans," said Sirius, "but it would be nice if you could give us a response other than 'oh'. Perhaps 'oh goodness I'd love to, I've never wanted to do anything more in my life', or else 'oh I can't because I'm meeting the bassist from Alchemy for a romantic rendezvous behind the Hog's Head –"
"The bassist from Alchemy is married," said Peter.
"Maybe that sort of thing doesn't bother Evans," Sirius drawled.
Lily, trying desperately to get a word in edgeways, sent Sirius her most disparaging look and finally managed, "it does, you swine, and I can't go because I already said I'd go with someone."
"The bassist from Alchemy?" Remus asked innocently.
"No! It's – oh, don't make fun – it's Gilbert Chambers."
As she predicted, Sirius, Remus and Peter all snorted with laughter, as did many of the eavesdropping people seated around them. James didn't laugh, though; he looked rather put out.
"You'd rather go with Gilbert Chambers than – than with us?" he demanded. "I thought you had a sense of humour … Chambers wouldn't know a joke if it bit him on the arse."
"There's an image," Remus commented.
Feeling quite sorry for poor Gilbert, who was a sweetheart, Lily said crossly, "I said I'd go with him and that's that in my book. It's not a matter of what I'd rather do or not do."
"Suit yourself," said James petulantly, and he swung himself off his bench, stumbling slightly. "Come on, fellas … if we don't go now we'll miss all the alhocol. Alcohol."
Lily watched him saunter out of the hall with the others; as he passed the Ravenclaw table, a few people hailed him, saying things Lily couldn't hear, until one girl said loudly, "happy birthday!"
Oh.
Gilbert Chambers was very sweet. Unfortunately for Lily, he was also deadly dull, wanting to talk about nothing but his schoolwork and peppering her with questions about all his subjects, particularly Muggle Studies; he seemed to find Lily, as a Muggle-born, quite fascinating, which started off as endearing and ended up as plain offensive.
By the time they finally headed back to the castle, Lily was drained. She bid Gilbert a hasty and deliberately unromantic goodbye in the Entrance Hall and hurried up the marble staircase without a look back, feeling thoroughly guilty and as if she'd like nothing more than a large bottle of Firewhiskey all to herself.
She was in luck; when she stepped into the Gryffindor common room, she found a party in full swing. Another stab of guilt went through her as she saw the enormous banners hung across the room, reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMES; quite why she was feeling guilty now, she wasn't sure, but she thought it might have something to do with the look on James' face when she had said she was going to Hogsmeade with Gilbert … and perhaps more to do with the odd sensation she felt somewhere in her stomach whenever James entered a room.
"Evans! How was your date?" Sirius hollered as soon as he spotted her. "Did you get a snog? Or –"
"Have a drink, Lily," said Mary loudly, cutting off Sirius' undoubtedly lewd remark and pressing a bottle of Firewhiskey into Lily's hands.
Lily thanked her and took a swig; the drink burned the back of her throat and she coughed, but took another swig anyway, stepping away from the portrait hole and into the crowd, passing embracing couples and dodging a seventh year who'd clearly had more than his fair share of Firewhiskey. Her own drink was having an effect already; she felt far more at ease than she had done all day, the alcohol numbing the sharp edges of her awful day and making the guilt and disappointment ebb away. She felt positively cheerful by the time she reached the other side of the room and found Peter sitting in the corner alone, hiccupping in a vague sort of manner.
"Hello, Peter," Lily said, taking the armchair next to him. "Why are you sitting here?"
"Can't dance," Peter informed her, "got vase ... it broke, you know. Oh hello Proooongs!"
"Wooooormtail," James replied hazily, dropping into the chair beside Lily. "And Lily!"
Lily giggled; James was clearly very, very drunk.
"Have you been dancing?" she asked him, as his face was bright red and his glasses lopsided.
"What? No I don't think so!"
"Y'have," Peter corrected. "Saw you. Youwerevellygood."
"Thanks, Wormtail!" James gasped. "Go and dance yourself! I think … I think Moony wants to dance. Not moon. Not tonight."
He snorted, looking very pleased with himself; then, as Peter ambled off, his expression suddenly became very serious.
"Gottoaskyousomething," he mumbled, leaning heavily on the arm of Lily's chair.
"Go on, then," said Lily, wishing she didn't feel quite so hopeful.
James looked up at her, his hazel eyes grave.
"Have you ever seen a mermaid?"
Damn."No," Lily told him gently. "I haven't. Have you?"
"Gilbert Chambers is a knob," James said, as if she had not spoken. "Why – why – it's my birthday, did you know that?"
"Yeah, I did …"
Struck with a sudden thought, Lily pulled her wand from her pocket and twiddled it in mid-air, concentrating as hard as she could given the alcohol clouding her brain. James regarded her with a mild expression as she conjured a block of wood and set to work on it, tapping and carving and charming; eventually, she was satisfied, and she passed the finished product to James.
He looked at it bemusedly, taking in the small wood figure's untidy black hair, glasses, and red merperson's tail.
"'S'me," he said eventually, comprehension dawning on his face. "Me, Lily! As a mermaid!"
"Happy birthday," Lily told him. "Because, you know … you gave me the cat, remember?"
"Oh, I did that," James said knowledgeably. "Mmm. Look, Lily, it's me as a mermaid!"
The next morning, nursing a very sore head, James barely remembered anything of the night before. He did, however, remember a giggle and a happy birthday and a special gift, and the little wooden merman remained on his bedside table for the rest of his time at Hogwarts – and for three years after that.
Pre-written sixth year stuff, to be posted in-between Under the Radar updates. Would anybody be interested in hearing the story of the cat?
'fun' fact: "Have you ever been a mermaid?" is something I have been known to ask strangers when drunk. I wouldn't say it's the best chat up line.