Finally Lily
Author: Queen Nightingale
Rating: T
Author's Note: Another way that they could have been.
"You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul."
- Julie de Lespinasse
"I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul."
- Victor Hugo
"I didn't know you played the piano," he said, a bit puzzled, staring at her long, smooth hands grasping her quill.
She nodded her head delicately, a sheet of red hair covering her cheeks.
"What songs do you play?"
"I only play one, Potter," she replied, her eyes still hidden.
"Well?" he asked again, prodding her with his words, "Which song is it?"
She turned to him, her eyes a mellow and warm green, and his breath caught in his throat.
"Grief."
He wanted to take her words and rumble them off his tongue like thunder, twist them around and dip them through his teeth, sucking up their meaning and desire.
He hated her. He hated how beautiful she was, how her long, lean body, pale skin and dark red hair made all the girls follow her.
She was a bitch. Everyone said so.
But if she was such a bitch, why did he see sadness behind her eyes when she roared at him, why did he see longing and lust so hidden under her skin? Why did he see that, when no one else did?
"We're supposed to work on this Transfiguration project together, Evans," he said awkwardly, feeling like a bit of a ponce walking up to her, lounged out like a Queen in the Gryffindor Commons Room, "So ... yeah."
Beside her, Marlene McKinnon laughed, tilting her head to whisper something in Lily's ear, making his cheeks flame up a brilliant colour of persimmon.
"Is that okay with you?" he said more harshly, a bit offended by her cool and calculating stare.
"Yeah yeah," Lily replied, smirking at Marlene and then detangling her long limbs from the pillows she was sitting on, "Hold your horses."
He tried to not stare at her white legs.
"Do you want to go to the Library?" she asked him, somewhat as if talking to a child, "Or will the Common Room do?"
"Either one," he shrugged, trying to regain a sense of cool nonchalance, channelling Sirius, "I don't give a fuck."
"Oooh," she said, languidly walking before him, his eyes glued to her straight, thick hair, "Channelling Sirius now?"
"What?"
"Nothing."
He growled at her back, noticing the arch in her spine. He wondered if her ribs showed through her pale skin.
"Well?" she asked him, twisting around so that they nearly bumped heads, "Will this do?"
He startled a bit out of her gaze, noticing the small table she was motioning at in the corner of the Gryffindor Commons.
"Yeah, sure."
She smiled at him, baring her pearls at him, and unconsciously he grinned back.
"What," he asked, staring deep into her eyes, her lashes fluttering up and down.
"You're bizarre, Potter," she said, still watching him, their breaths so close that they were nearly dancing.
They paused, a crescendo of air.
"Am I?" he asked awkwardly, suddenly conscious of her tender frame and fragile limbs, her giant eyes sucking him in.
It was the wrong question. Too cocky, too selfish, too obsessive. She laughed, tilting her head back, and settled down into a chair.
"Let's get this done."
He wished, horrified, that everyone didn't know. That the whole school didn't know of the way that his eyes shaded colours onto her figure, that everyone didn't see his shaking hands tousling his hair. That it was a secret, just between them.
But it was stupid fucking Sirius' fault, roaring out in the middle of the Great Hall one sunny afternoon that "Evans should finally just go out with James, for Merlin's sake", and he had turned bright red and she had swivelled around in her seat and watched him as everyone laughed.
He was a popular enough guy, decent. But he wasn't the most popular guy, he wasn't the best in school, the best with the girls, the best to make people laugh. Those roles went to Sirius, and he trailed back a bit, just a little in his shadow.
He was, after all, no God.
He watched her as they both pretended to work, Lily chewing daintily on her peacock-feathered quill. He liked the way her hair parted straight down the middle, the folds of pure red enclosing her like walls in a crystal castle.
"What do you think about this paragraph, then?" she said suddenly, raising her head. He quickly darted his eyes away from her (too slow), and looked down at the sheet she was holding out to him.
"Which one?" His voice cracked, and he winced inwardly.
"Nice voice crack," Lily commented dryly, James not meeting her eyes, "The introduction?"
"Oh, yeah yeah, of course," he said, taking the sheet from her and reading the first sentence. He felt her watching him, but he tried to block out the sensation.
Transfiguration is a course of study that has arisen since medieval times. Ever since the creation of the first wand, after Albus Bretherend slew a unicorn and stuck its hair in a piece of wood, transfiguration has been changing lives.
"Uh," he said, searching in his head for a polite way to phrase his words, "It's – well, uh ..."
"It's shit, isn't it," Lily said, sighing and putting her head in her hands, closing her eyes. He couldn't help but stare at her lashes, up close that they were, all red and flared and brilliant.
"It's not shit," he said diplomatically, putting the paper back down and leaning back a bit in his chair, "It's just that what does the first wand have anything to do with Transfiguration, really?"
"I don't know," she groaned, rolling her eyes a little bit, "Who gives a fuck about Transfiguration, anyways."
He felts heat rise in his cheeks, and he felt her watching him.
"Oh right, Potter, you do," she said a bit cruelly.
"There's no need to be a bitch, Evans," he rumbled, glaring at her.
"It's just the fucking first sentence, Potter," she retorted sharply, her voice a bit raised, "No need to get so snarky about it."
"What's your problem?"
"What's my problem?" Lily replied, laughing sarcastically, "You just insulted my first sentence."
He rolled his eyes in exasperation and made to stand up, Lily's hand stopping him suddenly.
"I didn't mean it, I was being a bitch, yadda yadda yadda," she said quickly, trying to pull him back down, "I'm sorry Potter, okay?"
"Whatever," he said, suddenly a bit more confident with her apology and her hand wrapped around his wrist, encircling it, "Honestly though Lily, I just want to get this done. No arguments."
She rolled her eyes at him as he sat down, and then went back to scribbling on her parchment.
He had been entranced by her as soon as she told him that her favourite piano song was "Grief" in third year, before they had really known each other. He was amazed at this Gryffindor who acted like she didn't give a shit, who had hung out with a Slytherin, who was so invincible that the Marauders never dared to even prank her.
He was flabbergasted by the invisible suns crowning her head, the make-believe wires holding her arms and legs in place, and the clear walls she was trapped inside of. He feared that she was screaming.
He wanted to wrestle that passion out of her, shake and shake and shake her so that she would finally start laughing so loud that the whole school would freeze up and glare. He wanted to astound her with the planes of his bravado, the indignation of his laughter, if she would just let him. He hated, - no, despised the indifference in her eyes, the cool, bored gaze that she had perfected, staring at the world. The mental picture he had was of her and Marlene, perched together on a couch, with their empty, cruel eyes.
"Why do you like me, Potter?"
He froze, not daring to look up. It was late at night, maybe before midnight, the Gryffindor Commons bare and deserted. The two of them were still working in the corner, Lily insisting that she had better things to do tomorrow and that they better get it done that night.
"Don't deny it," she said, James imagining her twisting her hair around her finger and staring at his head, "Everyone says that you do."
"You're a cocky bitch, Lily Evans, you really are," he said, sitting up straight and staring her in the eyes. He thought for a second that she had flinched.
"That's rich, coming from the boy who everyone says is in love with me," she retaliated, insultingly.
"Love is a very strong word, Lily," James said, closing his eyes and leaning back, "I don't think I could ever love you."
Silence met him, and as he sat back up he noticed her stiff frame, her eyes glaring at him.
"Why?" she asked petulantly.
"You're right," he said, revelling in how the power of their entire night had just twisted to him, Lily rigid and altogether breakable, "I do like you. Not for you, but because you're decent enough looking."
"Decent enough looking?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Shut up. But I could never love you ... at least, not like this."
She was silent, and for a second he thought that he had won.
He wanted to reach over and taste her lips.
"Like this?"
"You're empty, after you left Snape," James said quickly, daring, Lily's eyes snapping up and forming a glance of rage, "It's true, you know it."
"He wouldn't have reacted like that if you hadn't pushed him to."
"Shut the fuck up, Lily."
"You shut the fuck up, asshole," she retorted, "I'm just saying."
"Well, stop it. Stop making fucking excuses, stop making stupid comments like: 'Transfiguration is so dumb, anyone who's good at it sucks!' because you're jealous of people who do well in it. Stop making excuses for Snape, excuses for your own goddamn behaviour."
"Who the fuck do you think you are, you bloody prick?" Lily yelled, both of them suddenly up and on their feet, miles and miles apart on either side of the table, "You think you know me?"
"I do know you! You're the girl who told me your favourite song was fucking Grief. You're the girl who used to laugh and laugh and laugh and now you're trying to be so fucking cool so people don't look too closely at the scars on your heart."
They were both breathing heavily, James continuing to speak.
"I know you've got this whole hang-up about people now, you're scared and petrified and frightened to death of letting anyone else in."
"What? Are you shitting yourself Potter? You think that's true?"
"I know it's true, Lily," James said angrily, Lily shaking with rage and practically growling at him, "You're frightened to death of letting another person in besides Marlene, so you just judge and judge and stay cool, which society lets you do because you're beautiful and popular people can get away with murder."
Lily slowed down a little bit.
"You think I'm beautiful?"
"Of course I think you're beautiful, Lily, I've thought that since third year," James said, regaining a twinge of his awkwardness, a red blush creeping up the side of his face.
There was a silence for a couple of seconds where Lily gazed at him, James fighting desperately against the redness dominating his visage.
"But you couldn't love me?"
James sighed.
"I could. You know I could. If you weren't so afraid of what the world would think of you finally going out with James Potter – yes. You know I could."
And then she was sparking before him, suddenly laughing and careening in a circle and he watched with wide eyes as she exploded all over the Gryffindor Commons, erupting and laughing and spewing joy everywhere in a way that she hadn't in years, at least not that he could remember.
"When did we become so fucked up, James?" Lily asked, panting a bit from her laughing fit, giggles still echoing in her eyes.
He grinned back at her.
"No idea, love."
"Go out with me then, James," she said breathlessly, taking a seat across from him and smiling, "Go out with me."
"You're asking me on a date?" he replied, astounded.
"Yeah," she said, a bit of nonchalance creeping into her voice, as she bent her head down towards her parchment, "I'm a feminist."
"The only way you will go out with me," he said, starting to bubble over with laughter, "Is if you get to ask me out."
James laughed loudly, Lily finally tilting her head up to glance at him.
"What?"
"You're finally back," he said, smirking a bit at her puzzled wide eyes.
"Back to being what?"
"You're finally Lily. Finally here."
She smiled, and he was captivated.
Once again.