Chapter 1 – Firewhiskey Masochism
He sat huddled in the corner slumped over the table that was still sticky from old drinks. A lone bottle of fire whiskey sat in front of him. His black hair was disheveled and his clothing was less than clean. He had been there all evening, simply watching the room. That was how it appeared at least, but in truth he was only interested in that one girl in the middle of the dance floor. Her, it always came down to her.
She had been there all evening, surrounded by friends and admirers. It was the only time that anyone saw her be free. She had an otherworldly look about her when she danced with her red hair cascading down her back and her green eyes half closed in a trance. Looks of ecstasy mingled with pain on her face as she moved to whatever beat came out of the enchanted speakers. The smile on her face was private as if only she knew some special secret. From time to time she would allow some poor wretch to dance with her. They never left with enough though; one dance was never enough with her. She was untamable and untouchable. It wasn't fair. But then it never was.
She was always sensible, he had to admit. While other girls came to parties in ridiculously short skirts and high heels that wouldn't let them dance and had them limping at the end of the night; she came in sensible jeans and sneakers. The only not sensible thing about her was her top; some small number that could hardly be called a top. It threatened to fall off with every move, but it never would. She was suggestive without being blatant about her sexuality. She knew she was a tease at those times, and he knew she couldn't help it. It was who she was. At any other time, she was the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend, the perfect prefect – the list goes on. But right now, she was herself, she was free.
He could never have her, he knew that. But that didn't stop him from going to the Room of Requirements every Friday and Saturday night to watch her. He never did more than that. He never went near the dance floor. He never tried to dance with her, because he knew that one dance would never be enough. He was already lost to the world, lost because of her.
Once he had had friends, girlfriends even. Once he had been the life of the party, or at least part of it. She would always be the true life of the party. But he had once been part of it. Now his friends weren't talking to him or each other, and she, well she had never really talked to him. Except when she was telling him off or taking points away. Well it was no wonder he behaved the way he did when it was the only way to get her attention. But he hadn't done that in a long time. He had fallen off her radar. Once he had lived for her shouting at him; even loosing points was worth it, just to see her green eyes sparkle with life and anger. He must have been a bit of a masochist.
She seemed a little off tonight, as if she was trying to lose herself in the music. It was as if she was in a dream and never wanted to wake up, because daylight and the truth were too much. But then again, he was drunk and she was dancing, and how was he to really know how she felt.
He stood up suddenly, knocking over his chair in the process. He grabbed the almost empty bottle of firewhiskey and stumbling, weaved his way out of the room. He couldn't stand to see her dancing with him. Why did they have to be friends? Everyone knew that sniveling weakling was in love with her. It was funny that a full blood and a half blood were both in love with the same mudblood. He would never understand it, how could someone so pure and beautiful stand that greasy bastard.
She was supposed to be with him. She was the love of his life and he was supposed to be hers. But it is a rare day when everything works out the way it is supposed to. He could hear her laughing, even from the doorway. She had pushed the guy away and was dancing by herself again. It was such a beautifully painful sight. He wanted to take her in his arms and never ever let go.
He felt sick, sick of the world, sick of everything. The world was spinning before his eyes. He realized that he had doubtless had too much to drink. It was rather unfortunate. He probably wouldn't be able to make it to his room that night. He slid down against the wall towards the floor. 'I'll just rest my eyes for a few minutes,' he told himself, knowing it as a lie. His eyes fluttered shut, his head lolled to the side, his hair disheveled and his clothing permanently stained with liquor and other unspeakable things.
It was a few hours later when Miss. Perfect Prefect Lily Evans came stumbling out of the Room of Requirements with the remnants of the partygoers. It was nearly dawn on Saturday morning and the only people left at the party followed Lily out of the room. She blinked her eyes in the dawn light. "I guess it's earlier than it usually is, or do I mean later? Dawn is a very bad time to go to bed." She yawned and nodded sleepily to her friends. Lily stood out in their crowd. She had red hair that at that moment glowed as if she had a halo on because of the sunlight trickling in from the windows. Her eyes glimmered like emeralds. She had pale creamy skin and far more freckles than she would have liked to have. She was on the short side and slim but still built like a woman, or so she was often told. Her friends included a soft looking brunette from Ravenclaw, Marlene McKinnon, and a messy haired wild child, Dorcas Meadowes, from Slytherin. Despite the bad times, there were people from each house and of varied ages with her as they left the party. If there was one thing that could be said about Lily it was that she always included everyone, to a fault.
She was a rather unusual girl. During the week she was studious, quiet, helpful, and a perfect student. But come Friday evening, she was the life of the party in glittery tops and outrageous eye makeup. It was almost like two different girls; the first a reserved good girl and the second an outgoing bad girl. Expect the unexpected was one thing that all students learned from Lily Evans. She was a teachers' favorite, especially with Slughorn, the potions professor and Flitwick, the charms professor. But really, all teachers loved Lily because she was an overachiever. Slughorn always said that Lily should have been in Slytherin, but most people didn't see it.
Lily held traits that could have put her in any house. Most people couldn't figure out why she was in Gryffindor instead of say Ravenclaw because of her smarts, or Hufflepuff because of her kindness and absolute fairness. Hell even Slytherin, as Slughorn pointed out because of her cunning and her uncanny ability to lie. But she had a habit of fighting for her cause, whatever it was that day, and she would defend anyone, no matter whether she agreed with them or no. And she had a very, very short fuse. So Lily was a Gryffindor and that was that. She was unusual to say the least. "She was a singularly gifted witch and an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing the beauty in others even, and most especially, when that person could not see it in themselves," one of her friends would say of her many years later.
The group dispersed, with Lily being the only one heading towards the Gryffindor common room. She shook her hair out of her face and sighed sleepily. "Sometimes I wonder why I do this to myself." She murmured under her breath. "I have got to start going to bed earlier." And that was when she stumbled over a pair of legs. "What the?"
The legs were long, sticking out into the middle of the hallway and covered in a pair of standard boys' jeans. She looked upwards and found a button down shirt and a mahogany wand sticking out of a jean pocket. Farther up she saw a mop of messy black hair and a rather handsome face.
"James Potter." Her voice reverberated up and down the hall, "Wake up." He mumbled and shifted in his sleep. "James Potter, if you don't wake up right now, I'm going to banish you to Bertha Jorkins' room."
"Now why would you do something like that," came his inarticulate response. He blinked his eyes, adjusting to the light, "Lily. Lily!" He started to stand up and then had to sit back down again. He was clearly still somewhat drunk.
Lily sighed and put out her hand, "You have two choices, I levitate you back to the common room, or you lean on me and walk yourself. I know you dislike being levitated. And why do I keep finding you drunk all over the damned castle. It really has to stop."
"Look," James looked ready to nod off again, "please stop lecturing me and either help me up or leave me to my misery." He flapped his hands at her.
Lily gave in and pulled him into a standing position, a considerable feat considering he was twice her weight and height. He dwarfed her by nearly a foot. She helped him walk towards the common room but couldn't help herself, "If your getting drunk has anything at all to do with your fight with the boys, you really ought to just suck it up and make up with them. Sirius, Remus, and Peter aren't any better off than you."
James Potter and Sirius Black had once made up the terrible twosome. They were popular but had a habit of antagonizing people with their pranks. But for no explainable reason, James Potter and Sirius Black had stopped talking. Them, along with the other two Marauders (Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew), nicknamed the fearsome foursome by someone in the school back in third year, had all stopped talking or even associating with one another. That was in September and it was mid-March of their 6th year now.
She continued, "Sirius is going through destructive relationship after destructive relationship. At this rate he is going to have a dozen illegitimate children. Remus will barely talk to anyone. And Peter, well honestly I'm worried about Peter. You guys are really his only friends and the poor guy seems so lost without you. I'm hardly your biggest fan, but even I know that you need your friends and your friends need you, even if this school is much calmer and quieter without you boys up to your mischief."
"Are you saying you miss us?" James slurred.
"All I am saying is that you ought to make up. I can't imagine anything bad enough that would cause the four of you to stop talking. Think about it Potter." She dropped him off in front of his room and head back down the boys stairs for the girls' side of the tower.
Just as a quick note: I do borrow occasional lines from both my favorite authors and my favorite TV shows. If you can spot them, then good for you; you can have a cookie – but don't ask me for any milk 'cause I know where that will lead. Otherwise, I hope you like this new story. I can't promise that I will update all that often, but I do have more than half the chapters mapped out and a couple mostly written. So we'll just have to see where it goes.