Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and none of these characters are mine. The dialogue is taken from the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 28.
This was written for Lolaaaa's "Your Favourite Couple: Scenarios Challenge/Competition Speed Writing" challenge and looks at James and Lily's worst argument from the latter's point of view. I hope you enjoy!
They were sitting by the edge of the lake, basking in the warmth of the sun. A cool breeze ruffled the leaves of the trees, taking the edge of the summer heat, and the group of girls chatted amongst themselves, celebrating the end of exams. It was, in a word, idyllic.
Lily Evans, however, was disinclined to agree.
Flopped on the ground, red hair splayed in all directions, Lily was viciously plucking the petals of a wilted daisy. Muttering to herself, she seemed unaffected by the glorious weather. Her friends, relaxing lazily, watched her with a mixture of affection and exasperation.
"What are you doing?" asked a brunette, shaking her head in amusement.
"I know what she's doing," piped up another, smirking slightly. "He loves me, he loves me not," she mimicked, drawing understanding glances from the muggleborn members of the group.
Sensing confusion from some of the others, a third member elaborated. "Lily's in love," she drawled, before breaking into peels of laughter. Giggling, they turned to stare at Lily, who shook her head in annoyance.
"Shut up," she retorted, returning to the decimation of her daisy. Whether they would have pursued this line of enquiry is anyone's guess, but fate decided to step in. At that very moment, they heard a boy's voice.
"Wash out your mouth." Innocuous enough, the words sent a thrill down Lily's spine. She knew that voice, knew it because it had been the bane of her existence for five long years. And she loathed it. Turning round, she saw that Potter had his wand out, cursing a sallow faced boy. Severus.
Mood already soured, this was the final straw.
"Leave him ALONE!" Lily leapt to her feet, eyes flashing dangerously. Why, in the name of Merlin, did they have to pick on Severus? Why? Well, she'd had enough of it. Unlike some of his Slytherin friends, Severus was decent. More importantly, he was kind. In fact, thought Lily furiously, James Potter could learn a thing or two from Severus Snape. Not that he was humble enough to try.
"All right, Evans?" asked James, stupidly trying to lower his voice. Sirius had told her once that this was his attempt to sound mature. He failed. Dismally.
"Leave him alone," Lily said again, determinedly avoiding his stare. She was livid. Her voice raised, she asked Potter what Severus had done to him, her hand twitching. She was dying to jinx him. His response to her question made her sick.
"Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…"
Fighting the urge to throttle him, Lily proceeded to give him a piece of her mind.
"You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone." She paused, breathless, anger coursing through her veins.
"I will if you go out with me, Evans," came the immediate reply.
Lily scowled.
It was typical, absolutely typical. Everyone always insisted he was a good bloke, the kind of guy that would surprise you with random acts of kindness, but she knew better. He had teased her mercilessly for five years, asking her out at every opportunity. But he didn't mean it and it was unnecessarily cruel to continue taunting her. He was the hero of the Gryffindor quidditch team, swaggering around Hogwarts as though he owned the place. He would never fancy a girl like her. He was just waiting for her to break, to say yes. But she would never give him the satisfaction.
Even if she wanted to.
"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid." James' smug expression flickered for a second. This was all the distraction Severus needed. The pale Slytherin lunged for his wand, flicking it at James. A tiny gash appeared on his cheek and Lily's resolve faltered slightly. Despite her issues with James, she felt disappointed that Severus had to resort to violence. However, James was too quick for him and, in no time at all, had hung him upside down, revealing Severus' underpants. In any other circumstance, Lily would have smirked at this, revelling – as all good friends do – in the embarrassment of each other. However, she controlled this, yelling at James to leave him alone.
The next few moments seemed to pass in a blur. One moment she was defending Severus and then, quite unexpectedly, he said it. A word he had sworn never to utter.
Mudblood.
Lily's whole word seemed to stop turning.
For one awful moment, she looked at Severus.
For one awful moment, he looked back.
Shock prompted her next comment, infantile though it was. "Fine, I won't bother in future," she said, voice devastatingly cold. "And," Lily added, "I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus." Severus' eyes widened at the use of the dreaded nickname, hurt filling his dark eyes. As soon as she had said it, she regretted it, wishing that she could take it back. But she couldn't. Her feelings of guilt, however, were brutally interrupted.
"Apologise to Evans!"
Until that second, Lily had been torn, unable to determine who she felt most angry at. But his blatant hypocrisy made up her mind.
"I don't want you to make him apologise," she shrieked, startling birds from the nearby trees. Glaring at Potter, her eyes brimming with angry tears, she continued, voice steadily rising in pitch. "You're as bad as he is," shouted Lily, drawing alarmed looks from her friends. Her hair seemed to be crackling with electricity, tongues of red flame licking her pale face. She was an intimidating sight and her fury was palpable. It was no wonder, therefore, that Potter barely managed a weak stutter.
But Lily was on a roll now. Slowly, but with increasing bitterness, she began to point out his failings.
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on. You make me SICK."
Turning on her heel, Lily stormed off and sought a secluded corner of the grounds. She had never felt so angry. In fact, she had never felt so strongly about anything.
Or anyone.
In the quiet of her solitude, Lily allowed herself to cry. Looking down to her clenched fist, she opened it. Inside, curled and withered, sat a daisy. She remembered, bitterly, the last line she had uttered before Potter's stupid stunt had interrupted her chanting.
He loves me not.
For, despite her professed hatred of Potter, he'd broken through her defences. Despite his relentless teasing and the cruel way he played with her emotions, James Potter had melted her icy exterior.
Lily Evans had fallen, and she'd fallen hard.
Nevertheless, as she sat there, salty tears dripping down her delicate face, she was faced with an uncomfortable truth. She had – naively, it seemed – allowed herself to harbour secret dreams. She had, briefly, entertained the notion that his ridiculous serenades had some basis in fact. Judging by his treatment of Severus at the lake, however, she had been entirely mistaken. No one who cared for Lily as deeply as Potter said he did could have done that to her. No one.
If she had needed further proof she was little more than a game to him, it had been in this argument.
Their worst.