"…and so he had to turn the prefect schedule in to McGonagall without Harrington on it!" Eddie Bones concludes animatedly, bringing a merciful end to what Lily Evans had found to be an exceptionally dull story.
She remembers to laugh a half beat too late, but luckily Eddie doesn't seem to notice, guffawing as he is at his own tale. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Lily chances a glance towards the fireplace, where her friends Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes are laughing with far more appealing companions, Lily's best friend Benjy Fenwick and his girlfriend, Rebecca Ackerley.
Across the room from them, James Potter leans, uncharacteristically alone, against an empty armchair. As for his usual accomplices, Remus is in the hospital wing—the moon would be full the following evening—Peter had taken the first train home earlier that day, and Sirius had run off half an hour ago with Abigail Batterink. James doesn't think it likely he will see his best mate for the rest of the night.
Of course, that also means there is no one to stop him from glancing over at Lily an inordinate number of times while the music and conversation of the party swirls loudly around him. Sipping his drink, James replays their latest argument in his head. He'd only meant to cheer her up after a difficult Charms lesson had left her obviously flustered, but her short replies had quickly indicated any effort towards that end would be in vain. It had been more of an unfortunate encounter than an argument, really, though James takes very little comfort in the distinction.
As he watches Lily having her second unfortunate encounter of the day, James finds himself grinning when he sees her smile stiltedly at whatever Bones has just said. Just as he's debating whether she'd appreciate a rescue if it came from him, Lily manages to extract herself from the conversation, relief clear in her expression as she moves away.
Maneuvering through the crowded common room, she spares not a glance toward James, and he experiences a momentary inner battle between good sense and ill-advised impulsion. As usual, the latter wins out, and after taking a steeling gulp from the contents of his cup, James pushes off from the armchair. "Hey, Evans," he calls as Lily passes, starting towards her.
She stops, arms crossing over her chest. "Potter," she acknowledges, and then falls silent, waiting to see what he wants.
James opens his mouth, but quickly closes it.
Can I get you a drink?
Your legs look fantastic in that dress.
Fancy a snog?
Merlin. Were those really the first things that popped to his mind? Can he really not manage to speak to her as a normal human being? No wonder she currently wears a look of guarded interest, as though she might soon decide she'd rather not speak to him after all.
"Some party, eh?" James finally says, blood rushing to his cheeks at the lame reply.
"I suppose," Lily agrees, still watching him cautiously.
"I mean, discounting the fact that I had nothing to do with the planning of it, it turned out all right."
"The drapes have a much lower chance of being set on fire, I'm sure," Lily notes.
James lifts a shoulder, smirking. "I wouldn't count on that."
Shaking her head, Lily glances across the room, and James follows her gaze to where Marlene, Dorcas, Benjy, and Rebecca still stand in front of the fire. "Look, Potter, if you only stopped me to make idle chatter, then…" she gestures over her shoulder at her friends.
"Right," James says, feeling his face heat up once more. "I was just going to say…you look nice." Lily's brows knit together, but she turns away from the group by the fireplace. "I mean it!" James insists. "That dress is, er, nice," he adds, wincing at his inability to come up with another adjective.
"Marlene forced me to buy it last year," Lily admits, arms finally dropping to her sides and one finger twisting the hem of her skirt uncomfortably.
"Well, I'm glad she did. That is," James amends hastily, "it was a good choice."
Lily smiles, an amused lilt to her voice as she answers, "I'll let her know. She figured you'd like it."
"Merlin," James mutters, the color growing in his cheeks again. "Am I that predictable?"
"I wouldn't say that. You must have some grasp on deceit to get out of detention all the time."
"Only the ones I don't deserve," James argues with a grin.
Lily rolls her eyes. "I think you deserved it for spiking McGonagall's pumpkin juice at the feast tonight."
"Come off it, even you have to admit that was bloody hilarious."
"I doubt she'd agree."
"Well I wasn't asking her, was I?"
Lily studies him carefully. "Empathy is not one of your strong points, is it?"
"On the contrary, Evans. I felt very strongly uncomfortable for you when Bones was chatting you up a minute ago," he says, lifting a finger from his cup to indicate the site of the incident.
A dull flush blooming in her cheeks, Lily glances away. "He's…very nice."
"You don't have to be polite about everyone, Evans."
"I'm not," she argues seriously. "I make a point to always be rude to you."
"I've noticed," James grumbles, taking a swallow of his drink. Lily can't help but laugh at his petulant expression, but immediately covers her mouth with a hand when James glares at her.
"I'm sorry," she says, voice muffled by her fingers. Dropping her hand, she adds, "It's really not funny."
"I sometimes laugh ironically about it, though," James says, feeling a swoop of triumph when Lily smiles a second time.
"It's good to know your sense of humor has some use, then." When James frowns, uncomprehending, Lily goes on, "As a self-preservation mechanism, I mean." Afraid that sounds callous, she bites her lip before saying abruptly, "Look, James . . . I'm sorry about earlier." Flushing as she remembers the harsh words she'd snapped at him after Charms, she hurries on, "I was just frustrated, that's all. And not with you, with . . . me." James stands quietly, waiting for an explanation of what had really been bothering her. Finally, Lily sighs loudly. "It's just . . . Patronuses? I thought we weren't meant to do those for another two months! Not that it should matter, because really they're fairly simple in principle, just find a happy memory and off you go," she flings an arm out demonstratively, ". . . so maybe I wasn't happy enough, but it's hard to feel joyful when you can't even manage to—"
"Evans," James interrupts at last, clasping one of Lily's wrists between a thumb and forefinger to stop her wild gesticulations. Though he drops it as soon as he's assured she's listening, Lily can still feel the impression of his fingers and has to forcefully resist the urge to rub the spot. Smiling slightly, James says, "No one was supposed to be able to do that lesson. Flitwick said so himself at the beginning of class. He just wanted us to get a feel for what we're aiming at by the end of term."
"I know," Lily mumbles, a little embarrassed by her outburst. With another sharp sigh, she forces herself to smile. "Sorry. Again. We're at a Christmas party, for Merlin's sake, and here I am ruining it for you."
"I called you over, remember?"
"Right. Well, thank you. For making sure I don't go mad."
"You're much more interesting when you've got your wits about you, so it was in my best interest," James assures her.
"Of course. You wouldn't want to do anything that doesn't directly benefit you, after all."
"Exactly."
Lily can't help the way her lips twitch at his response. "You're arrogant to a fault, Potter, but somehow it's amusing. How do you manage that?"
"You didn't always think it was amusing," James counters instead of answering her question.
"More often than not I did, actually," Lily confesses. "It was only knowing that I shouldn't that made me angry."
James narrows his eyes in thought, having never considered this possibility before, and not sure he believes it now. "That doesn't make much sense."
Lily shrugs. "I could apologize again, but that feels like too many apologies for one evening."
"I'll forgive you without one," James assures her. "Since it's the holidays and all."
Lily smiles her thanks, eyes sliding sideways, though not to look at her friends so much as to look away from James. Because although his tone has remained light, he is suddenly watching her with an intent gaze that makes Lily feel like her every thought has been laid bare for his examination.
"You need a drink," he says at last, decisively, making Lily look at him again.
"I do?"
"Yes." And without waiting for a response, he takes her hand and leads her on a weaving path through the mass of students to a table on which several questionably colored drinks are balanced precariously. Selecting one at random, he pushes it into Lily's free hand. "You'll like this one," he states confidently.
Lily tips the cup towards her and inspects its contents skeptically. "Will I?"
"Nah, you'll probably hate it," James says easily, causing Lily to laugh again. "But as I said before, I didn't plan this party."
"And if you had, the drinks"—taking a tentative sip, she gulps it down with a grimace—"would have been exceptional?"
"Not hard to be better than that, is it?" James asks, raising an eyebrow.
Lily agrees with a shake of her head, and both lapse into a momentary silence. James is just wondering if this might count as their first authentically friendly interaction when Lily speaks.
"This is…"
"Strange?" James interjects.
"Oh. I was going to say nice," Lily says.
"Oh," James echoes. "Yeah, no, it is."
"We should do it again."
"Have horribly mixed alcoholic drinks together? Definitely."
"But for now," and Lily sounds truly apologetic, "I should probably say hi to Dorcas and the others. I think that is the fifth exasperated look Marlene has given me this evening."
James looks for the second time towards those gathered around the fireplace, where the other Gryffindor girl is indeed fixing Lily with a pointed glare.
"Thanks for the drink," the redhead goes on, handing him her half-empty cup.
"You don't mean that, but you're welcome."
"Well, it was a nice gesture, and as you said, not your fault it didn't live up to expectations. Happy Christmas, Potter."
To James's surprise, she looks slightly disappointed when he wishes her the same. She hesitates a moment, as though waiting for him to say something else, but before James can work out what it might be, she gives him a little wave and walks away.
I'll let her know. She figured you'd like it. Why those words in particular resonate through James's head, he cannot say, but his stomach leaps as he calls out, "Hang on, Evans." When she glances back questioningly, he continues, "Why'd you buy that dress? I mean, if McKinnon's only argument was that I'd appreciate it . . ." He trails off meaningfully, heart hammering in his chest.
Lily looks at him for a moment, head tilted in contemplation. Then, a smile breaking across her face, she asks, "Do you want to dance, Potter?"
It takes James a moment to comprehend the unexpected question, but when he does, he nods vigorously. "Yes. Yes, I would like that very much."
Happy Holidays, everyone!
~WW