Bets, Belligerence, & Bliss
By SXS
Disclaimer: I don't own any copyrighted aspects of this story nor did I intend any copyright infringement.
Chapter Two: A Boisterous Bet Begins
Lily Evans hated Mondays.
Or maybe it was just this one, as particularly dreary and rainy it was. The day, even in the short hours of the morning, had not been going so well. She had hit her head while waking up, and had spilt her color-changing nail polish on her Transfiguration textbook, which was now changing from metallic orange to neon green. Lily was in a rush, gliding down the stairs like the master of being punctual, to breakfast.
When she sat down and put her elbows on the table, one of them landed right into a stick of butter. Groaning, she tried to siphon it off, but she was distracted by the daily owls, and accidentally burned a hole in the elbow of her robe. Well, at least the butter came off.
"Morning, Lily!"
Lily looked up for a moment, and then quickly looked down again. It was James Potter, headed her way, like he did every morning, probably to ask her to Hogsmeade or present her with flowers or to hex a first-year to show how manly he was (not that Lily found hexing first-years manly.)
Mondays—they were just absolutely horrid.
"Hello Potter," she greeted shortly. But despite her brief and icy greeting, he plopped himself down next to her. Potter just wouldn't get the hint, would he? He never did—Lily didn't want to talk to him! She didn't want to go to Hogsmeade, she didn't want to have a study session, and she didn't want to be his girlfriend! How hard is that to understand, anyway?
"I see you've been having some, ah, robe issues," he noticed tactlessly. Lily felt a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks, and immediately ignored it. Why was she blushing around such an idiot? He probably took it as some sort of innuendo for him to—
"Blushing, eh?" he grinned winningly, or what he thought was winningly, because Lily just thought it looked rather pompous and bigheaded. "Allow me," he waved his wand briefly, and her robes patched themselves up. Lily nodded her head curtly in thanks, but Potter just couldn't help but continue.
"So, um," he said, attempting his whole bashful act, "D'you think I deserve a reward for mending your robes?"
"Too good for a 'thank you,' eh, Potter?" Lily retorted with an air of annoyance. Potter cringed a bit, as if a bug had stung him, but persisted.
"I meant something like," he continued, "Oh, I dunno, going with me to Hogsmeade next weekend, perhaps?" He asked this in a casual manner, running his hand through his hair. Lily hated how he did that—it was as if he wanted it to look windswept and messy all the time, what a show off….
"No, Potter," Lily replied stonily, and almost immediately. He looked a bit downcast, but then his face brightened up as he thought of an idea.
"I've got a proposal, Lily," Potter exclaimed, out of the blue. "How about a bet?"
"A bet?" Lily repeated, cringing. Any sort of "bet" James Potter concocted probably wouldn't be much of a bet at all—more like another date-request-tactic. Nevertheless, why not? It's not like Lily's day was going to be any better, perhaps poking a little fun at Potter and his bet would lighten it up a tad. "Well…why not. What's your bet suggestion, eh Potter?"
Eagerly, he rubbed his hands together and began to explain, "You see, I was thinking of an idea that does involve going to Hogsmeade together as a date," Lily rolled her eyes—predictable Potter, she should've known, but she let him continue, "So here's the bet," he announced excitedly, "I'm convinced that I can convince you to say yes to going to Hogsmeade with me on a date by the end of this week, got it?"
"I won't," Lily replied bluntly. "You do know that, don't you?"
"After my antics," Potter grinned happily, "You might have a few second thoughts about that one." Lily eyed him skeptically, but gestured for him to continue. "If I win," James carried on, with an air of smugness, "then you owe me three dates, and calling me 'James,' not 'Potter.'" Lily stared at him, contemplating the consequences.
Three dates with James Potter? And having to call him James, not Potter? It didn't seem too terrible if she lost, but then again, she certainly wouldn't lose. How hard, after all, would it be to say "no" to James Potter when she'd been doing it for two years already?
"And if I win?" Lily questioned, and Potter looked down quickly and muttered something. "What was that?"
"Whatever you want, anything that's not ridiculously expensive, or something insane," Potter said a bit louder. Lily could feel her day getting better.
"Anything?" she gasped with relish. "I could ask you to stop?"
"Stop what?"
"You."
"Stop me…? Well I suppose I could stop er, hexing kids for fun," Potter said quickly, trying to pretend he didn't know what she meant. But a chance like this was too great to pass up.
"If I win, then you will have to stop asking me to Hogsmeade until the end of…seventh year, say, and you'll stop trying to make me fall in love with you with those stupid pranks and flowers and chocolates all the time and you'll stop speaking to me unless it's absolutely necessary," Lily declared confidently. Potter was gaping at her as if she had a large sea serpent emerge from her ears.
"All that, just on a measly bet?" he croaked, his face paling considerably. Lily smirked. Then Potter looked her straight in the eyes, determined hazel meeting confident viridian, and she could feel the blush rising again. Why was that happening? Potter suddenly grinned again.
"Well if you're going to pile on consequences, then I might as well, too!" he smiled. Lily's blush intensified, although Potter wasn't noticing. He continued confidently, "If I win—here's one last result. If I win, you owe me a kiss."
Now it was Lily's turn to pale considerably. Kiss James Potter? Who on earth would even want to be more than three feet near him, apart from his adoring Marauders? Then again, if Lily won, Potter wouldn't bother her until the end of seventh year—two years without the stupid invites to Hogsmeade or the idiotic innuendos he came up with. Two years and no Potter! There couldn't be anything better, really…and plus, Lily wouldn't lose. Of course she wouldn't—it's not like she actually had feelings for him or anything, no, of course not, nothing like that….
"You've got a bet, Potter."
