AN: This might turn out to be 4 chapters instead of 3. I had to cut this one off earlier than I expected, partly due to length and partly because I really wanted to post this tonight. I'm still hoping to finish it before the end of the weekend.
Martha and Rose reached the front door of the flat at the same time. "Where've you been?" Martha asked as she unlocked the door.
"I could ask you the same question," Rose teased, noticing her friend was in the same clothes she'd worn the day before. She laughed when Martha nudged her with her shoulder. "I was at Coffeevilla reading." She dropped her book on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, while Martha continued down the hall toward her room. "Well, mostly reading," she amended, cursing her own need for complete accuracy.
"Mostly?" Martha called back.
Rose traced the pattern in the worn upholstery. She hadn't told Martha about James' apology. Will she pester me to date him again, if I tell her we're gonna be friends? I guess that's what John is for.
"Yeah. James showed up, and we ended up talking."
There was silence from Martha's room, and Rose bit her lip. After a minute's pause, Martha's face appeared in the hallway, her jaw hanging open slightly. "James Noble."
"Yeah."
"The James Noble you've been ignoring for six months."
Rose kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her. "Well, I didn't get a chance to tell you—he actually apologised for asking me out all the time. We're gonna try bein' friends, him and me."
Martha shook her head slowly. "I do not understand what just happened. You have actively avoided any gathering where James might be present, and now you're going to be his friend."
Rose sighed. "I never hated him," she pointed out. "I just didn't want to date him. Or I didn't know him well enough to know if I did, and he never let me get to know him."
"So… now you're getting to know him."
Martha leaned against the wall and stared at Rose, and Rose knew exactly what she was thinking. "As friends," she said firmly.
"Look Rose," Martha said slowly, her forehead wrinkled in a frown, "I honestly believe that's your intent. But James has been head over heels for you for ages. Are you sure he's not hoping for more?"
Rose bit her lip. "I thought about it," she admitted. "But I can't refuse to give people a chance. He said he's happy being friends, and I'm gonna take him at his word."
Martha left for work shortly after that, and Rose pulled her books out to study some before they all met at the pub for supper. She read through the essay she was supposed to analyse three times before slamming the book shut in frustration. None of the words made any sense—her mind was too busy thinking about all the implications of her morning with James and Martha's warning.
On impulse, she reached for her phone and opened the text conversation with John. How can you tell if someone has really, truly changed? She sent the message, then got up to make herself a cuppa.
DWDWDWDWDW
Flushed with the success of his morning with Rose, James was on one of his typical rambles through the city when his phone chimed. He raised his eyebrows a bit when he saw Lily's question. "Is her Mr. Potter attempting to redeem himself?" he wondered aloud.
As a personal rule, James tended not to give second chances. He'd been burned too many times. But today, Rose had talked to him and that changed his perspective. Hard to say without more details, he started, not knowing exactly what she was asking. But isn't it usually better to err on the side of second chances? he asked, remembering how generous Rose had been.
That's what I usually think, Lily replied.
The uncertainty he read in her words gave James pause. Of course, there are times when the first mistake was so heinous, giving a second chance puts you in danger.
Almost instantly, she sent back a laughing emoticon. Nothing like that. Thanks though, that put it in perspective. Even if he's lying to me, the worst that could happen is me being angry and disappointed. The best… I have a new friend.
The simplicity of her assessment stopped James in the middle of the pavement. He stared at his phone for several minutes, oblivious to the activity around him.
John? Still there?
Yeah, I'm here Lily. I'm just… thinking about what you said.
It's nothing that profound, really.
The mutterings of other pedestrians broke through James' daze, and he started walking again, typing as he went. It is, he disagreed. I've always given second chances based on the likelihood that they're deserved, and I don't give many.
But you said I should.
James remembered the warmth of Rose's smile when they laughed at Uncle Vernon's attempts to get away from the letters. Well, I just got one myself, so I know how good it feels to be forgiven today.
Did you deserve it?
I hope so, but you, Lily Evans, keep distracting me from what I'm trying to say. James show his head, a slight smile on his face. I never thought of looking at it from the angle of, "What's the worst that could happen?"
Oh.
James found a bench and sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him. Yep. I think it's safe to say I'll be thinking about this for a while.
There was a long pause on her end this time, and he was fairly certain he'd embarrassed her. Finally, she started typing, and he sat up straight.
You've been hurt, haven't you? The keen observation cut through all his defences, and he nearly dropped his phone. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.
Instead of feeling like she was giving him space, James smarted at the presumption that he might want to tell her some of the worst bits of his life when they'd only known each other for a few weeks. Good. I don't, he sent, then shoved the phone into his pocket and walked home.
DWDWDWDWDWDW
Monday came, and John hadn't replied to either of the texts Rose had sent. His hurt had been so apparent to her that the question had come almost without her realising it, but as soon as she'd sent that message, she'd known it was too personal. Still, she hadn't expected to get the door slammed shut in her face. Hopefully he decides to give one of those rare second chances, she thought as she walked to class.
She slowed when she heard footsteps behind her, and soon James was walking beside her. "Did you have a good weekend,Rose?"
Rose thought of her silent phone. "To be honest, it kinda went downhill after I left the café," she admitted, taking care not to say anything like, "That morning with you was the best part."
To her surprise, his face clouded over. "So did mine," he said, sounding more subdued than she'd heard him before. Then he shook his head and his familiar manic smile spread across his face, but today she realised it didn't erase the shadows in his eyes. "Which is a shame, because it was off to such a brilliant start. And that, Rose Tyler, is actually what I wanted to talk to you about today. What would you say to rereading Harry Potter together? We could meet on Saturdays to talk about the books."
Rose sighed. This sounded very much like a back door to dating. "No no," he said hurriedly, interpreting the sound correctly. "Not—not dates." He was so flustered, Rose was inclined to believe him, especially when he continued to fumble for an explanation. "It's just… We both like the books, and we're both reading them again. I thought it might be fun to talk about the new things we see, and I've completely bollocksed this up, haven't I?"
He looked so disappointed, and she wondered for the first time if her rejections had actually hurt him. "No, you haven't," she assured him. "As long as you just mean as friends…"
He nodded vigorously. "Right, as friends. Friends talk about books, don't they?"
"They do," she agreed. "So … Saturday morning at Coffeevilla?"
This time, the smile banished every cloud from James' face, and Rose was forced to admit he was a very good looking man. "I look forward to it, Rose."
The late autumn sun shone gently on Rose's back as she studied in her favourite corner of the library that afternoon. When her phone vibrated and danced across the table, she snatched it up before it could make any more noise. The message app opened automatically when she swiped it open, and her eyebrows shot up when she saw what John had sent.
If you won a million pounds, what would you do?
The complete disregard for the 48 hours of silence annoyed her. Excuse me?
Come on, Lily. It's a classic getting to know you question.
Rose dropped her book on the table, not caring how loud the thud was. Am I just supposed to ignore the fact that you haven't talked to me for two days?
You asked a very personal question.
Yeah, and I apologised. Twice. She drew in a deep breath to calm herself, and started again. Look, I'm not upset if you… if you needed a few days off.
It sure doesn't seem that way.
Rose counted to three. She had missed John, and she wanted to fix this, but she wasn't going to let him get away with pretending the weekend hadn't happened, especially when he still seemed so bent out of shape about it.
I understand, really. But you can't just come back without even acknowledging my apology. I need to know we're fine, John.
Yes, we're fine! I forgive you, all right?
It was the best she was going to get, she figured. If she pushed harder, she had a feeling he'd just cut her off entirely.
Travel.
What?
You asked what I'd do if I had a million pounds. After the obvious things like paying bills and helping family, I'd travel.
Rose counted the long pause as a victory. Apparently, John was as thrown by her sudden about face as she'd been by his out of the blue question. "Maybe now he understands how disconcerting that was," she mumbled.
Right, travel, he said finally. An excellent answer, Lily Evans.
What would you do?
Oh, travel definitely. There's far too much of the universe to see to sit at home, watching telly and eating beans on toast.
Rose giggled. The universe? Not content to stay Earth-bound then?
Earth's a starting point, of course, but there's so much more out there. A moment later, he sent a gorgeous picture of a butterfly shaped nebula. You could come with me, if you want.
All right then, where would we go first?
Ohhh, I know! Barcelona!
Would that be the city Barcelona, or the planet? Rose teased
You are brilliant, Lily. What do you think the planet Barcelona is like? Maybe they've got dogs with no noses!
But how do they smell? Rose laughed out loud at her own joke, and someone at the table behind her abruptly and not too subtly collected his books and moved to the other side of the room. She looked around guiltily, then down at her own coursework.
Listen, John, I need to get back to studying.
All right then, I'll come up with more planets we can explore .
You do that. I'll text again later, okay?
Looking forward to it. And Lily?
Yeah?
I'm sorry.
Not even a difficult essay for her French class could stop Rose from smiling.
It was pouring when James left his flat Saturday morning but he just opened his enormous blue umbrella and stepped out into he rain with a bounce in his step. Nothing could dim his excitement to spend the morning with Rose, certainly not the rain—even the interstellar adventures he'd planned with Lily had taken a back seat to reading Harry Potter.
He remembered his misstep with Lily and winced. As uncomfortable as it had been, she'd been right not to let him get away with pretending he hadn't been upset. Somehow, he'd thought forgiveness meant shoving the hurt aside, but thinking about the way Rose had been so open about the mistakes he'd made and what she expected of him, he thought he'd probably gotten it wrong.
Rose wasn't there yet when he arrived. In a burst of impulse, he ordered tea for both of them and took it to the table they'd sat at the week before. If she's walking in this, she'll want something hot when she gets here, he thought as he poured sugar into his own cup and took a sip.
When she was ten minutes late, he worried the rain had kept her way, but then the door blew open and Rose entered on a guest of wind, shaking drops of water off her jacket as she pulled the door shut.
"No brolly?" James asked and pushed a cup of tea toward her.
She wrapped her hands around it gratefully. "It turned inside out as soon as I stepped out into this mess."
"I'll walk you home," he offered. "Mine is plenty big for both of us. But first, let's talk about harry Potter. How far did you get?"
She lifted the cup to her nose and breathed deeply before answering. "Mmmm. Oh, I got to the first lesson with Snape."
James leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him. "It's weird, isn't it, reading that now and knowing why he was so hard on Harry? Sort of paints him in a different light."
Rose sipped her tea, and James was glad to see some colour returning to her cheeks. He hadn't wanted to show to much concern, lest he appear overly interested, but she'd obviously been chilled to the bone when she arrived.
"I don't think it does, not really," she said, forcing James to remember what they'd been talking about.
Ah, Snape.
"Or if it does change your opinion, it's for the worse. I understand why Dumbledore chose to keep him around—he'd groomed the perfect spy, after all—but I don't think I'd have trusted him. And nothing justifies the way he treated Harry."
"Well no—but don't you think he deserved a second chance?"
Rose pressed her lips into a thin line. "He had so many second chances, and he threw them all away."
"Not the last one," James disagreed.
Her eyes narrowed. "Right. He was so hung up on Lily's rejection that he abused her son, fifteen years later. That was not what Dumbledore had in mind when he gave Snape a job."
The total lack of mercy was so at odds with what James expected from Rose that he couldn't let the subject go. "But he was perfectly poised to help save the Wizarding World from Voldemort!"
Rose sighed and slumped a little. "Look, I know he's complex and that he was ultimately on the right side, but… he's so deeply flawed, and it bothers me when I hear people praising him, as if that one deed made up for everything that came before." Her eyes sparked dangerously. "Severus Snape was a berk and a bully," she snapped.
James stared at Rose, a little afraid she might think he was like Snape, but more focused by what she'd just accidentally revealed about herself. Her body language when she spoke about Snape indicated personal experience. "I didn't know you felt so strongly on the subject," he said, trying to lighten the conversation.
But Rose flinched. "Let's just say I know blokes who don't take kindly to rejection, who can't accept that you're not interested and get mean when you turn them down."
The fact that his suspicions were correct made James a little sick to his stomach, but before he could say anything that might distract her from the unpleasant memories, she slapped her hand over her mouth. "James! Oh, I am so sorry." He looked at her blankly. "I didn't think… please believe me when I say I wasn't talking about you just then. You were persistent, but polite—much more of a James than a Severus."
"My parents thought so too," he quipped, finally teasing a smile from her. "I wasn't offended, Rose. But now I see that my approach might not have been the best way to win you over."
Her laughter broke the tension, and they spent the next hour discussing Harry's entrance to the Wizarding World and carefully avoiding all mention of Severus Snape.
The remaining weeks of the term flew by. Rose and James worked their way through the first two books before their book chat sessions became study sessions, and Lily and John had amazing adventures in exotic locations like Woman Wept, a planet where the entire ocean had frozen in the middle of a storm, leaving huge waves you could walk on.
Rose's good mood slowly drained away as the train took her closer to London and home. Her old school friends had sent several messages over the last few days about all the parties they wanted to take her to, and she didn't know how to tell them that she wasn't the same young, irresponsible girl she'd been two years ago.
Her mother at least welcomed her with open arms and, for once, only the smallest hints about school being a waste of her time or Mickey being such a loss. Her room hadn't changed since she was ten and in the middle of a bright pink phase. Even though she didn't love the colour like she used to, it was familiar and hers, and she settled in easily.
But two days later, she couldn't put her friends off any longer. "C'mon, Rose," Shireen prodded. "We've barely seen you since you went to that school. The least you can do is come to the party tonight. Or are you too good for us now that you hang out with all your posh friends?"
Rose bristled. "Not everyone at school is posh, Shireen. An' just because you didn't want to go to uni, that doesn't mean there's something wrong with people who do."
Shireen sighed. "Nah, I know that. But Rose, seriously. When's the last time you went out for a night, just to have fun? An' down to the pub with your study group don't count."
"Fine, I'll come to the party. But!" she added, cutting off the squeal from Shireen, "I'm not letting you choose my outfit."
"You're no fun at all anymore, Rose Tyler," Shireen pouted, making Rose wonder for the first of many times if she'd regret agreeing to this.
The second time she wondered was when she could hear the music from halfway down the street. All the doors to the house were flung open, letting light and music stream outside. If the volume got much louder, Rose wouldn't be surprised if someone called the cops—and that wasn't really how she wanted to spend the evening.
She had half a mind to go home and text Shireen with an excuse about not feeling well, but her friend must have been keeping an eye out for her. "Rose!" she yelled, running out into the street to drag her along. "You won't believe this! There are so many people here!"
"I can tell," Rose muttered.
Someone pushed a beer into her hand the moment she crossed the threshold, and Rose took a long draw, hoping it would make the music or atmosphere more enjoyable. It didn't.
It was half three when Rose stumbled into her bedroom. The tears in her eyes were more of a deterrent to walking steadily than the slight amount of alcohol in her system. Bloody Shireen. Why didn't she tell me he'd be there?
When she stripped off the skinny jeans and silky top she'd worn to the party, something fell out of her pocket and landed with a dull thud on the carpeted floor. Rose got down on her hands and knees and reached around until she found her phone.
An impulse struck her, one she wasn't quite sober enough to repress. Are you awake, John?
Several long moments went by before she got a reply, long enough for her to change into her pyjamas, wash her face, and comb her hair out.
Lily? Are you all right?
'Course I am. Why wouldn't I be? I'm always all right.
And now I know something's up, and not just because you wouldn't normally be texting me at 3:48 in the morning. Tell me.
Rose took a deep breath, trying to hold in the sobs that threatened. You sure you want to know?
You're upset. Talk to me, Lily.
A few more tears leaked out. If John cared about what had happened, why didn't her own best friend? I was at a party tonight with some friends from school, and I ran into an old boyfriend.
Did he hurt you?
No. Not like you're thinking, anyway. "Not tonight at least," Rose added under her breath.
What happened, Lily?
Rose hesitated. She and John and talked a lot in the last two months, but there were still some things she hadn't shared. Wasn't there some kind of line she shouldn't cross?
I really want to know, as long as you're comfortable telling me.
Well, I finally had a chance to tell someone I have a "boyfriend," Rose typed, trying to put a light-hearted angle on the disaster.
I thought you said he didn't try anything.
Even though she'd never met John, she could almost hear the anger in those words. I said he didn't succeed, not that he didn't try, she corrected. And he really didn't get any farther than a few chat up lines before I shut him down. That's when he got nasty.
Verbally or physically?
Verbally. Said going to uni had given me airs, made me think I was better than I am. Said he wasn't really interested, but he'd thought I'd be an easy score and that I wasn't really worth any work.
Rose wiped at her eyes again. She didn't care what Jimmy Stones thought about her, she really didn't, but Shireen had stood behind him and nodded along with him when he talked about school giving her airs, and that had hurt more than anything.
Lily, don't you dare listen to him. You are brilliant; any bloke worthy of you would be thanking his lucky stars that you were willing to talk to him, much less anything else.
Yeah?
James stared at his screen, willing his temper to calm down. When Lily's text had woken him up, he'd known something was wrong. She'd always followed courtesy to a T, never starting a conversation after 10:00. He'd feared the worst when she told him she'd run into an old boyfriend, but this wasn't much better.
I know I do, he told her honestly. Even without all the help she'd inadvertently given him with Rose, James still would be grateful for meeting Lily Evans.
You're just saying that because I said I'd let you plan our travel adventures.
He saw through her attempt to lighten the mood, and as tempting as it was to let her get away with it, he knew she needed to hear more. No, I'm not. Lily… you're brilliant. You're clever and funny, and you don't let anyone walk all over you.
She didn't say anything for several minutes, and James wondered if she'd fallen asleep. He was just about to ask when she started typing. Will you tell me about where we're going next?
James' heart turned over. He knew she didn't really believe him, at least not wholly, but he couldn't bring himself to push her any farther. If Lily wanted to be distracted, he would take her on an adventure she'd never forget.
Oh, Lily Evans, there are so many places I want to take you, he told her, his imagination conjuring images of alien skies. We could go to New Earth.
What happened to the old one?
James settled back onto his pillows, propping his head up with one hand while texting with the other. The sun expanded and it burned up. I'll take you to see that, if you like.
Are we time travellers now, John?
Well, what's the point of traveling the stars if you can't go through time. So, year five billion, the sun expands and the Earth is burnt up. Hence, New Earth.
I think there's more to the story than that, Lily said, but I'll let you tell me the rest of it later. For now—can you smell that?
James sniffed reflexively, then remembered this was all a story. What is it?
Apples… apple grass! And the sky is so blue, it's almost impossible. Can I just say, John, travelling with you? I love it.
I love it too, Lily. Think you can sleep now?
Yeah, thanks. Good night. Sorry to wake you.
You can wake me up any time. Sleep well.
