Summary: What sort of prat has a party to celebrate the last first day of Hogwarts? And what sort of idiot is Lily Evans for attending it? L/J Oneshot.
Rating: T — It seems as if in this particular time frame, Lily has a knack of damning James Potter for nearly everything he stands for, as per result there is a bit of swearing here and there.
Disclaimer: Nope, not the wonderful J.K. Rowling. Sorry. Also, I stole the image cover thingy off of Google image. To whoever made it: You're awesome.
"Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit."
-Aristotle
On the morning of August 21st, Lily Evans woke up at the ungodly time of 7:06 to the sound of her dearest sister Petunia screeching, in typical Petunia-fashion. She rolled over in bed, so her head was swallowed by the absurd amount of pillows she insisted on pilling onto her bed, and groaned.
There was complete silence for a moment (Lily took that moment to attempt to fall back asleep), but too soon Petunia began screeching again, this time yelling, "Lily!"
Lily didn't respond, preferring instead to pretend to be asleep. Dealing with Petunia was never the easiest thing in the world, and dealing with Petunia in the morning would doubtlessly put her in a foul mood all day. She had no doubt that Petunia was overreacting: perhaps she had forgot to put the dishes away last night, maybe Petunia had convinced herself that Lily stole her hairdryer (Lily didn't bother trying to explain to Petunia that she can just dry her hair with her wand — anything concerning the "m" word seemed to set Petunia off), or Merlin's left sock save her if she had left her copy of Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration on the kitchen table.
In the utter silence of her not-sleeping state — where she was desperately wishing to drift back into its comfort, where she could be back at Hogwarts, back sitting in the common room, back working on Charms homework, back to James Potter coming up with inventive ways to ask her out, and back to writing lists of clever rejections — she could hear the soft chirps of the crickets, harshly broken by the sound of Petunia stomping towards the room.
Lily groaned again.
Her doorknob twisted — no, no, no I'm asleep, go away — Petunia was surely standing there with both hands on her hips, her face scrunched into a scowl — but I'm asleep, I can't see this, she her — and begins to speak, her voice sounding more Petunia-ish than usual: "How the hell am I supposed to eat breakfast when some dirty animal comes flying through the window, freak?"
Surprised by this information Lily sat up, forgetting the fact that she was pretending to be asleep. "An owl came into the kitchen?"
Her Hogwarts letter had came nearly a week ago and any letter from Marlene and Alice would come directly to her window. So what, exactly, disturbed Petunia from her breakfast?
"And Mom and Dad brag about the fact that you're so smart," she scoffed. Then seemed to remember the fact that there was an owl in her kitchen. "What if Vernon had been here? He already knows your a freak as it is — what if he had seen it, Lily, what if he had seen it?"
"Tuney," Lily muttered (only after Petunia stiffened, did she realize that she hadn't actually said the nickname in years), "he's not here. Get over it."
The only response Petunia gave was a snort, before storming out of the room. Lily heard a slam, a sure sign that Petunia was brooding in her room.
Peaked by curiosity, Lily threw the covers off of her bed, swinging her legs over the side, and slipping on her slippers before padding out of the room, slowing working her way towards the kitchen. Sure enough, there was an owl perched on the window sill above the kitchen sink. The owl was birch colored, flecked with brown, and had warm chocolate eyes. It hooted softly, flying towards Lily and dropping a letter on the table in front of her.
With a quick glance at her, the bird flew away. She watched its retreating figure pensively, the question as to who the owl belonged to was woefully answered by the fact that she recognized it as Winston (whose whole name was Winston Churchowl, because along with keeping up with Muggle news its owner - whom Lily periodically wished she didn't know - was one for puns) who belonged to the one and only James Harold Potter.
"Evans" was scratched on the outside of the parchment. She grabbed the letter mentally damning Potter for bothering to write to her, damning him for having nice handwriting (seriously, it was graceful and loopy in a girl-like fashion, which Sirius had jokingly berated him for), damning him for the fact that the damned letter was probably riddled with pick-up lines ("Have you heard of Platform 9 3/4? Well, I can think of something else with the exact same measurements"; "One night with me and they'll be calling you Moaning Myrtle"; and "You can handle my wand anyway" were his favorite ones currently) which she'd then have to pretend she didn't find funny, and damn—
"Lily," her mum said, coming into the room with a smile on her face, which Lily was against, because no one should be nearly as cheery as her mother was at seven in the morning. No one. "Did you get a letter from one of your friends?"
No, Mum, just the guy who has been asking me out for years. The one who got me in detention because apparently it's not acceptable Hogwarts behavior to hex fellow Gryffindor students in the hallways. Instead, Lily lied through her teeth, "Yes."
She could see him laughing at her for that one, if he was here he'd never let her live that down. Friends, he'd say, yep Lily-flower we are most definitely friends. Then he'd swing his arm over her shoulder and whisper something into her ear that most people definitely don't say to their friends. (Although, perhaps James did say those things to Sirius, they were awfully close.)
"Who is it?" It was times like these that Lily wished her mum was a smidgen less noisy; however Mrs. Evans was still standing there expectantly.
Then, Lily did something she would instantly regret. She told the truth.
Her mother looked excited, "Oh, isn't that the one you're always talking about?"
Talking? More like complaining. Incessantly. Sometimes she complained so much that she got tired of hearing herself complain.
"I think I got a glimpse of him last time we picked you up. Right handsome bloke, that fellow is."
She could see Potter in front of her chuckling that goddamn chuckle that had the tendency to make her classmates melt. She gritted her teeth and forced a shrug, tossing the letter back onto the table.
"Oh, Lils, don't be that way. He was the one with dark hair, right? And glasses?"
Another shrug.
"I remember, because I tripped on the cracks between the concrete, bloody awful cracks, if you ask me, and he helped me up. Polite too."
Lily snorted. James Potter was many things, but polite was not among them.
"Oh, Lily, don't be like that. If you ask me he's rather fond of you" — Lily rolled her eyes — "after he helped me up his eyes zoomed in on you" — probably to ask her if she wanted to go to the Shrieking Shack, because they could do some shrieking of their own — "and I reckon you two would look nice together."
"Mum."
"All right, all right, dear. But at open the letter, Lils, see what the man has to say."
"Mum."
"I'll be off to work now, then. I'll see you tonight. Try not to rile your sister up too much, she's sensitive as it is."
Lily snorted once again (She really was quite charming in the mornings, wasn't she?), but moved to give her mother a kiss on the forehead. "Okay."
Left alone, Lily busied herself making a cup of tea and some toast. Then, all there was left to do was stare at the letter sitting in front of her. (Surely it was mocking her. Wasn't it?) Lily left out a long sigh, purely for her own benefit, because it's not like Potter could here her, and began to open the letter.
You are cordially invited to the Potter residence for a celebration of the first last day of Hogwarts.
That was the just of it at least, it went on to speak in the same sort of proper way that they would be honored by my presence for this wonderful occasion. Yeah, like the fact that she only had a year before she would be launched into the Real World wasn't nearly terrifying enough. But, no, let's gloat the fact with a party. Because nothing screams Real World like a party.
As she tossed the parchment onto the table another piece of paper slid out, this one was written in the much vied-for handwriting of James Potter.
Lily,
I know, I know parties aren't really your cup of tea (Your cup of tea is black, with two sugars, which you have the strangest tendency to drink boiling hot. Honestly, Evans, I don't know how you do it.) But, please, at least think of coming. And, hey, if it makes you feel better the whole get-together wasn't my idea. Or Sirius's. It was my mum's, said we need to have something to make the house light again. Plus, there'll be loads of food.
—James
p.s. You don't need to come for me, come so you can hang out with everyone else before school. Besides, don't you want to know who your fellow Head is?
She paused for a minute, rolling his words over in her mind, maybe, just maybe he had a point.
Then, because she's Lily Evans, she did the logical thing.
Dear Marlene,
Do you know who's Head Boy?
-Lily
The reply came sooner than she was expecting:
I know where you can find out… at The Party.
-Marlene
She even capitalized it. The Party. It wasn't even a party anymore, it was the party. Capital T, Capital P.
Alice's response was nearly the same:
Just go to the party, you dolt.
Much love,
Alice
Merlin, Lily needed to get better friends.
Ignoring the smirk on her mothers face, Lily apparated to Marlene's house. Even if her friends were rubbish, hell would freeze over before she apparated by herself to James Potter's house.
"For someone who is so self-confident you are remarkably unsure of yourself," Marlene said with a chuckle, as Lily appeared in front of her with a snap.
Lily felt herself blushing. "Oh, shut up. I still haven't forgiven you for not telling me who the Head Boy is."
"I know, I'm a horrible friend. Now, Lils, will you please sit down. Honestly, have you even brushed your hair today?"
Her cheeks flushed and she cursed her redhead genes, "Maybe?"
In all honesty, Lily had detangled then tangled her hair, put on makeup than took off makeup at least eight times before heading to Marlene's. It was exceedingly difficult to look as if you weren't trying to look particularly nice, while still looking nice.
She gave one final protest, informing her friend that the last time she forgot to brush her hair she received compliments from two strangers telling her that her hair was rather fetching. Yeah, well think what they would have thought if it was brushed, Marlene had muttered.
"Hey!"
Marlene made a disapproving sound, before beginning to fix Lily's hair, as Lily felt herself losing all dignity that she had. Twenty minutes later, Marlene had forced Lily into a forest green (apparently cotton shorts and a camisole wouldn't get her the boyfriend that she oh-so-desperately needed) and had put more makeup on her than she normally wore (which was just a simple swipe of mascara to cure the red eyelash problem).
"There," Marlene said, a smirk making its way to her face, "James will love it."
Then in a flash they were at the party.
Nearly seconds after arriving, Marlene spotted Adam McKinnon in the crowd and disappeared, saying something about how she needed a good snog. After walking in on them in various classrooms during Patrol last year, Lily knew better than to follow her.
Instead she set about entering the house in front of her. House, she decided, was a loose term. The building was massive; however, as she entered it she found it to be rather comforting. The lighting was warm, candles floating near the ceiling in a Great Hall-esque style. Of course, because it was the a party held by the Potters there were plenty of people there. Lily had to admit that she was rather surprised, not by the fact that every seventh year Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw were there, but by the fact that there were quite a few older witches and wizards there.
"Prongs's mom just really loves to throw a party," Remus said, coming up beside her.
Lily nodded, smiling at her favorite Marauder. (She once made the mistake of saying that in front of James, and was surprised to see the look of rejection on his face, before he made some snarky comment about how lovers must not count. Lily then had to remind him that they weren't lovers. "Not yet," he had said with a wink.) "This house is beautiful."
"Why thank you, dear," a woman said, coming up next to them and giving her a warm smile. She was older, her hair tinged gray, yet her eyes held a youthful laughter. "I'm Felicity Potter, and you are…?"
Remus began chuckling to himself and Lily shot him a questioning look before saying, "Lily, Lily Evans."
A light went off in Mrs. Potter's eyes and she turned to Remus, joining him in his chuckle. "Remus, dear, would you please go grab some butterbeers for Lily and I?"
"Of course," he responded, trying and failing to maintain a straight face. Lily couldn't help but notice that Remus's path towards the butterbeer happened to involve a stop to Sirius, wherein they both erupted in peals of laughter.
"Ignore them," Felicity said, linking her arm with the younger woman's and leading her toward some seats. "I've heard quite a bit about you, Lily."
"You have?" She had never really thought that James would speak to his mother about her. She was just the girl that he enjoyed getting a rile out of. It didn't actually like her, as he proclaimed some mornings in the Great Hall. No, James Potter just attempted to get her attention because it was a personal challenge to get her to say yes. To beat her. To win.
"I'd like to apologize on behalf of James. Really, if half of what Sirius tells me is true, then I'm surprised you haven't hexed him into oblivion."
For the first time, Lily was ashamed of the fact that she couldn't count on her fingers how many times she had hexed James.
"Although, Harold was like that when we first met." Although she was still smiling, there was a certain sadness in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Ruddy awful at feelings."
"I protest that statement," Sirius proclaimed, flopping down next to Lily as Remus handed them both butterbeers. "Prongs isn't rubbish at feelings. Hell, he proclaims his love for Lily weekly. Publicly."
"He's gotten better, though," Remus informed Felicity, in what would have been a comforting tone, had laughter not seeped into his smile, "He used to do it daily in the Great Hall. Now it's primarily in the Common Room."
"You're right, Moony, he has started to restrain himself."
"Although it's still bad when we're in the dorm, Padfoot." Lily was sure that by now her cheeks matched her hair. Screw Remus being her favorite Marauder. No, Peter Pettigrew was the best. Quiet Peter Pettigrew.
"True. Honest, Felicity," Sirius flashed the woman a charming smile, "I swear the only reason you get so many letters home about pranks is because they're the only thing which will shut James up."
"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin," Lily was muttering under her breath, regretting the fact that she had agreed to go to this party. Lily was wrongfully thinking that the situation couldn't possibly get anything worse, when the much-focused on James sat down next to them.
"Hey, Mum," he said. His mother gave him a grin and she knew that he would never be able to live down his obsession with Lily. "Hello, L—Evans."
"Hi, James," Lily said, wallowing in self-pity. She rolled her eyes as his ears perked up.
"James?" he asked.
"That is your name, isn't it?"
"Well, yes but—"
"Prongsie," Sirius interjected, "you'll never guess what we were just talking about."
Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin.
Felicity Potter looked amused. Damn traitor.
"The fact that waffles are infinitely better than pancakes?"
Remus rolled his eyes, "Why on earth would we be talking about that?"
Sirius continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Prongsie, dearest, you are correct. But, alas, no we were talking about—"
Lily stood up suddenly, "I have to go talk to Marlene."
James sat there looking confused while his companions burst into peals of laughter.
"I hate all of you," Lily muttered. She took a couple of steps and then froze, her manners kicking in. Slowly she turned around, "Thank you for the party, Mrs. Potter, everything is lovely."
"You're welcome, dear. Feel free to come around anytime." Felicity tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.
Lily then turned to the two Marauders who were not James Potter. They were laughing louder than ever, "I still hate you both."
Twenty minutes later, Lily could still feel the heat of her blush radiating off from her cheeks. Be it fortunate or unfortunate she had also managed to stay away from anyone she knew. On the plus side she didn't have to make small talk — wasn't forced to pretend to be interested in Herbology while speaking with Frank Longbottom (whom Alice assured her had the loveliest shade of blue eyes) or partake in an awkward conversation with Benjy Fenwick (they hadn't spoken since she unceremoniously dumped him last Spring). Alas, there were some drawbacks to being anti-social at a party. She was stuck either a.) wandering aimlessly around in a house she had never been in before b.) standing awkwardly by the punch bowl, wondering to herself why there were always punch bowls at these type of events or c.) making small talk with the Ministry officials who seemed to be wandering around the house.
"Alice!" Lily cried, rushing over to her friend, thanking Merlin that she finally found company who wouldn't embarrass the hell out of her. They embraced, Alice pulling away looking rather confused.
"I'm surprised you don't hate me."
"Why would I hate you?" Confusion clouded Lily's eyes.
Alice spoke slowly, as if it was obvious: "…for not telling you that James was Head Boy."
The responding look of shock on Lily Evans face was enough to tell Alice that nobody had broken the news to her yet.
"Shite," Alice muttered. Lily, however, took no notice. She was currently transferring into Lily Evans Lockdown Mode which Alice had seen less than a half a dozen times during their stay at Hogwarts. Lily would get quite, draw herself away from the world, take some time to think about what happened, then get over it. It was always strange when it happened, because the majority of the time Lily worked things out by yelling at James Potter.
"I, I have to go," Lily said, turning and walking away from her worried friend. She was going to leave, to head back home, but she realized that she had told her parents that she was going to be spending the night at Marlene's house.
She supposed she could just go home, tell her parents she wasn't feeling well, but a part of her mind nagged at her that Marlene would wonder what had happened to her. And they hadn't had an actual real honest-to-Merlin conversation since the end of the school year.
Instead, she drifted away from the crowd, settling to once again wander the Potter residence on her own. Instead of awkwardly mingling by the punch bowl, however, she walked down one of the more dimly lit areas of the house — away from all of the guests. After ten minutes of solid thinking ("How the hell are James and I supposed to work together?"; "Oh, fuck, I forgot that the Heads share a dorm…"; "What if he spends all of his time asking me out?"; "…and all of patrols asking me out?"; "Right. We have to do patrols together. Three nights a week."; "I won't even have to put up with him — I'll have to put up with the lot of them… well, I guess Remus isn't so bad… No. Wait.") she realized she was completely lost.
The door to her left was slightly ajar and Lily figured it'd be worth the risk to push it all the way open. Perhaps there would be a window there and she could figure out where exactly she was.
She wasn't quite sure what she was expecting to find, but it certainly wasn't James's bedroom. The room was covered in pictures from his time at Hogwarts, nearly against her will she found herself gravitating towards them. James and Sirius smiling with arms slug over each other back in Year One. A younger Felicity Potter linking arms with an older man (whom Lily assumed was James's grandfather) while a toddler sized James haphazardly attempted to walk. There was one of her, too. She was hugging Remus, if she remembered correctly it was right after he told her that he was a werewolf. He had told her that it was all right if she didn't want to be his friend anymore, and she had laughed, giving him a warm hug. Why would she not want to be his friend?
Lily stood there for a few more seconds, suddenly feeling as if she was invading his privacy. Merlin knows she would be pissed if James Potter happened to wander into her room. She was walking towards the door, when the aforementioned boy — man — entered the room.
He looked at her, confused. "Evans?"
Her face flushed red. "I — I'm sorry," she stammered, "I got lost. Er, could you help me find Marlene?"
Instead of being annoyed, as she assumed he would, he smiled crookedly at her in his typical fashion: "First you're apologizing to me and now you're asking me for help? Why, Evans, if you keep this up you might just get me thinking that I have a shot with you."
"Sod off, Potter," she grumbled, fighting a smile.
"Ahh." He rolled back on the balls of his feet. "Now there's the Lily Evans we all know and love."
Her eyes did their typical roll and proceeded to narrow into a slight glare. "James."
"All right, all right," he said, holding his hands up in the air. "I'd be honored to escort you back to Marlene."
He held open the door for her and she marched out into the hall, taking a left. It was a few seconds before she realized that he wasn't following her. "Uh, Lils? It's the other direction."
Once again her face was glowing red. "Right."
They walked in an uncomfortable silence. Well, it was uncomfortable for her, at least. James looked at peace, although to any onlooker it was evident that his hands where itching to hold hers, to grace her lower back. It was probably for the best, though, that he restrained himself.
Eventually (too soon, if you asked James, not soon enough, if you asked Lily) they arrived back at the general area of the party.
"Thank you," Lily said, glancing up at him. He told her it wasn't a problem and before her she lost her resolve (and settled on insulting him for something-or-other) she found herself saying, "You know, I don't think you'll be that bad of a Head Boy."
"You don't?" He sounded genuinely surprised.
"Bye, James," she said, smiling at him and making her way into the crowd.
"Bye, Lily," he whispered to her retreating figure.
It wasn't a big romantic gesture, it wasn't a proclamation of love, it wasn't even a kiss. But it was a start. For James, for now, that was enough.
So, originally I had one line that I wanted to use in this story ("Don't flatter yourself, Potter, I just like fireworks.") which I rather obviously failed to work into this... Oops? Maybe I'll manage to get it into something someday.
Do be amazing and wonderful and all things great and review. I really do appreciate it.
Thank you.
-aDreamAway