The Trouble With Lifts

Summary: "I should have known that a magical lift was a sign of trouble. And here I thought that an inanimate object couldn't pose a threat to my sanity - which was a ridiculous assumption. Obviously."

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, sadly. Everything Harry Potter is JK Rowling's, and the song lyrics are properly accredited to their creators. Wait, I guess I own the sketchy plot. Huzzah!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! As a treat, this chapter is twice as long as the last one! I apologize for any typos. I am without a beta, and trying my best to catch them all.


Chapter Two: Ignorance

"You treat me just like another stranger. Well, it's nice to meet you ,sir. I guess I'll go.

I best be on my way out. Ignorance is your new best friend."

Ignorance by Paramore


It only took a fraction of a second for the surprise on James' face to morph into a grin.

"Lily! How wonderful of you to join us!" he said, turning fully to face me.

Merlin…

It wasn't exceptionally bright in his room, and the light from the lift was sort of dull, but there was certainly enough light to throw every well defined line of James' muscles into sharp relief.

Bloody Merlin's sodding flannel boxer shorts!

I could feel the heat flooding my face, and it took me a moment to realise that I was gaping at him like a bloody fish out of water. I snapped my slack jaw shut and resisted the urge to check for drool. I was mortified enough as it was. Chelsea chuckled gleefully from her place next to me. She was clearly pleased by the turn of events, and if I hadn't been so distracted by Shirtless James, I would have been plotting the many ways that I would later inflict pain upon her person.

Sirius was looking us over, examining the lift curiously. He then looked to James, his expression unmistakably miffed.

"So Evans' friends can use your fancy lift, but I can't? Unfair, mate," he chided, shaking his head in disdain. James rolled his eyes, "Come off it, Padfoot. You know why you - specifically you - are not allowed to use it."

"One time, James!" he argued, petulant as he held up a finger for emphasis, "I did that once and you never let me forget it! It's-"

Their bickering seemed to snap me out of my Shirtless James Trance. I stopped listening to Sirius' rant as I turned my face up to the ceiling.

"Take us back," I pleaded, "Take us back to the room where we were! The…the- bloody hell! It doesn't have a name!"

The lift didn't take pity on me, instead choosing to remain perfectly still. I kicked the door frame, letting out a muted growl of frustration. It was then that I noticed the silence. I glanced up to see three mildly concerned expressions. My blush returned double fold.

Sirius was the first to break the silence, flashing a mischievous grin at James before saying, "Of course you'd pick the barmy one to fancy. So typical, Prongs."

The glare James shot Sirius didn't go unnoticed. Although how I managed to pay any attention to his face when I could barely tear my eyes away from his chest was beyond me. Damn, was all I could think, quidditch does a body good…

It was at that moment, that for my sanity's sake, I had to stop looking. Which is why I promptly slapped a hand over my eyes. I would not look, I would not look, I would not look

"Lily?" Chelsea asked. I could hear the barely concealed laugh in her voice. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not looking!" I all but shouted. "And I will continue to not look until Potter puts his bloody shirt back on!"

"Ah, is that what has you so frazzled, Evans? The sight of Prongs' abs just too much for your delicate heart to bear?"

"Shut up, Black," I growled, my temper getting the better of me. I blindly reached for the edge of the door frame. If the lift wouldn't let me leave, I was leaving the lift. I shuffled forward groping in front of me for where, in a few more steps, the door handle should be. Chelsea and Sirius seemed unable to stop laughing.

"Lily," she chuckled, "Lily, stop being ridiculous."

My hand found the door knob, and turned it. I whipped it open and hurried through it, not opening my eyes until I was well away from James' room and securely locked in my own. Leaning back against the door, I deflated like a worn out balloon as I let out a long, slow breath of air. I rubbed a hand over my face, my brain feeling muddled.

There was a knock.

"Lily?" came James' voice through the door. When I didn't respond, he spoke again. "Lily, I know you're there."

I sighed, taking a deep breath before I opened the door.

James looked at me, curiosity and concern swimming in his hazel eyes. He was wearing a green shirt that fit him snugly in a way that I found to be both good and bad.I gulped.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my voice cool and detached. I was mildly impressed with myself when I succeeded.

He frowned. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I said, "Why do you ask?

"You're acting a bit odd," he said, running his hand through his hair, making it look even more dishevelled than it usually did.

"Me? Nah, I'm fine," I said, my voice rising just a bit too high. I coughed and looked away.

"Right." He said the word slowly, his tone disbelieving. I glanced at him sideways.

"Is that everything?" I asked. "I have charms homework."

"Er, yeah, I guess," he said, shooting me a furtive look.

"Smashing," I said, closing the door. "See you tomorrow."

I listened, waiting to hear his retreating footsteps before I let myself relax. After a moment, I heard his door close, and I sighed, my fingers threading though my hair as I rested my forehead on the door.

"Bloody Merlin," I muttered. My heart was still beating too quickly. "What is wrong with me?"

James Potter had always sort of flown under my radar. Unless he was annoying me, that is. I kept him in the mental box I labelled "Tread Carefully" ever since second year when he and his friends jinxed everyone's robes to shout what colour underwear they were wearing. In fifth year he got moved to "Wouldn't Touch With a Forty-and-a-Half-Foot Pole" because of the whole Severus Situation. In sixth, he'd been transferred back to his original box, simply because he seemed to disappear, and judging from his behaviour near the end of last year and the beginning of this year, I could see he was different - and not just physically.

But to suddenly start feeling… this way around him?

That was just too much for me to fully comprehend. I moved away from the door, running my hand over my face again as if it could wipe away my unwanted thoughts. I thought about actually doing my Charms homework before I realized I'd left my rucksack in the study room. Instead, I wandered to the bathroom, picking up my toothbrush and brushing my teeth, then going to the dresser and pulling out my pyjamas. My mind looped in logic circles as I changed my clothing.

What did my change of heart mean? Was it really a change of heart - or did my dinner just not agree with me? What should I do? Do I really have to do anything? Was I going to murder Chelsea? What would be the most effective way? Would Dumbledore be angry? If I was going to murder Chelsea, should I just do away with James as well and put an end to all these ridiculous feelings?

I flopped down on my bed, my arms akimbo and my long hair fanning out around me. I used my wand to turn out the lights, staring up at my ceiling. My thoughts swirled as I listened to the wind outside and the distant creaking of the whomping willow. I was aware of time passing, and I knew I was growing more and more tired, but my eyes stayed glued to the ceiling. The light gradually changed from dark to darker before finally growing lighter. My eyes only moved from the ceiling to check the time on my watch. The hands pointed at the twelve and the four. I blinked, not quite sure if I was imagining things. Could I have really laid there for seven hours? I must have fallen asleep at some point, I decided, since I didn't feel very tired at all. I had a bit of a twinge at my temple though, and I rubbed at it, trying to soothe it away.

I got up, showered, dressed, and brushed out my hair, wasting time by cleaning out the dark red hair that was caught in the bristles of my brush. I glanced at my watch again. Only half an hour had passed. Damn. I stood, wondering if breakfast was even available this early as I headed for the door and out of the Heads dorm.

The halls were silent, not even the ghosts appeared to be up and about. However, as I got closer to the Great Hall, I began to hear voices carrying down the corridor.

"I'm telling' ya, Potter, ya can't pull the feint!"

"Careful, Mulburry, Potter's Captain - you might end up on ball duty for the rest of the month," laughed a feminine voice.

"Shut it, McKinnon," snapped the first voice.

"Look mates, we've got to hurry it up. We're going to miss our practice time," said James as I edged around the door. The Gryffindor quidditch team sat in a group near the center of the table, various food items spread out around them.

A third year boy with a scowl rolled his eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't have scheduled practice so bloody early."

James seemed to take the boy's grumpiness in stride, laughing easily. "Have another piece of toast, Mulberry. Maybe the marmalade will sweeten your disposition."

Mulburry grumbled. I stepped into the Great Hall, my shoes clapping against the stone floor. Every single head at the table swivelled in my direction. James' eyes found mine and a slow smile spread across his face. My heart dropped down into my stomach and I had to look away for fear he'd see the blush I felt creeping up my neck.

"Well if it isn't Lily Evans," he said, "I didn't think you even knew this time existed."

"I couldn't sleep," I said, shrugging. I still refused to look at him directly, instead I spoke to the plate in front of me. Marlene McKinnon shot me a smile as the rest of the team dissolved into idle chatter.

"How are you, Lily?" she asked, as a curious glint entered her eyes. "Chelsea returned to the dorm last night in a tizzy because you'd apparently stormed off on her."

The blush crept further up my neck, beginning to encroach on my face. I tried to ignore it, busying myself with spreading marmalade on toast. "You know how Chelsea gets. She's always in a tizzy over something."

Marlene nodded, her blonde curls bouncing. "The interesting thing was," she said, glancing over at James sitting a few seats away from us, "Was that despite all her angry grumbling, I was able to pick out two coherent words."

"Oh?" I asked, feigning innocence. I hoped that no one noticed how I couldn't seem to stop spreading the marmalade around my piece of toast. The edges of the toast were beginning to crumble beneath my fingers.

"Do you know what they were?"

I blanched. I could feel the blood drain right out of my face as I looked up at her sharply. Oh Merlin. She smiled devilishly.

"Shirtless-"

"Ladies and gents, I'm sorry, but we should really get going. It's already ten-to, and practice was supposed to begin at four thirty," James spoke up, cutting Marlene off. I sighed with relief.

"Don't think you're getting out of this, Lily," Marlene warned, her smile still slightly maniacal. "As a former dorm mate, I demand an explanation."

"Marlene…"

"Pity me, Lily," she said, rising from her spot. "The seventh year dorm has become terribly dull ever since you ran off to be Head Girl."

I rolled my eyes. "Go to practice, Marlene."

"Fine, fine, but I want all the juicy details when I get back!"

"There are no juicy details!"

She laughed. "Yeah, right."

I watched her saunter out of the Great Hall after her team mates, still shaking her head at me. I sighed., and finally bit into my mangled piece of toast. There was way too much marmalade on it. With a frown I tossed the slice back onto my plate and stared at it. I'd suddenly lost my appetite. I got up and headed to the study room to pick up my Charms homework. The corridors were still empty, save for Peeves who was making a ruckus in one of the old transfiguration rooms on the fourth floor. I took my time, meandering through the hallways, inspecting statues I'd never noticed before, and looking out windows towards the quidditch pitch.

I'll admit to myself that my thoughts strayed to James. I imagined him, soaring around on his broom, his smile bursting as the wind swept through his hair. His glasses would be slightly askew as they so often were, and his hair would be an absolute mess - just the way he liked it.

"Don't judge a book by it's cover, Evans," he'd chided me one evening. It was after our first Head's meeting with Dumbledore and I'd just told him that he better take the job seriously.

"You always think the worst of me. I'm not twelve anymore."

He then spent the next week being a model student and exemplary Head Boy - helping me organize rounds, and making sure that the older kids weren't hexing the first years in the middle of the corridors. And we had managed to form an uneasy partnership, maybe even the beginnings of a delicate friendship.

And now I had to ruin it with sodding feelings.

Because James and I could never…no. No. It wasn't even a possibility.

I shook my head, turning away from the window and heading back to the Great Hall. It was nearing six o'clock now, and a few more early risers were sporadically placed at their house tables. I returned to my seat, poured myself a glass of pumpkin juice and set about working on my Charms essay until Chelsea took her seat next to me an hour later.

"Finally decided to stop hiding in your room, I see," she said, reaching for a scone. I placed my quill down on the table, fixed her with a glare and then punched her in the arm.

"Bloody hell!" she yelped, rubbing the spot where I'd hit her. "What was that for?"

"For being a lousy best mate," I told her, still glaring. "Did you tell the whole house that we stumbled upon James while he was shirtless last night?"

She gave me a reproachful look. "'Course not, you silly twit. What made you think I did?"

"Marlene McKinnon seems to be under the impression that James and I are having some sort of torrid secret affair."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I was a little angry when you went all solitary confinement on me. So I muttered a few things. Marlene just likes a bit of gossip. You know she's harmless."

I punch her again. "That's not the point!"

"Oi! Quit that, would you? You're going to give me a bloody burise!"

"You deserve it. You're a ruddy best mate."

"I'm a brilliant best mate!"

"Oh really? Because it seems to me all you do is cause me trouble and strife."

"I bring joy and adventure to your life!"

She fixed me with a big grin as I glared.

"I hate you sometimes."

"But mostly," she said with a smug smile, poking me in the cheek, "you love me."

"Apparently," I muttered, turning back to my Charms essay. She picked at her scone, tearing off bits and popping them in her mouth, satisfied with herself at having won the argument.

After I tucked away my homework and scarfed down a cinnamon bun, we headed to Potions down in the dungeons.

"You know," Chelsea said, giving me a sideways glance. "We haven't discussed your reaction to…" she hesitated, leaning in and whispering, "shirtless James."

"That's because there's nothing to discuss," I told her flatly. We entered the dark, low ceilinged classroom and moved towards our desk near the front. Chelsea flopped into her chair, sighing as she spread out her books and supplies.

"Ignoring the signs won't make them go away Lily-kins."

"I'm not ignoring anything."

"Oh, right," she said, her sarcasm scathing. "So you react like that every time you see a half-naked man? Muttering mad things and covering your eyes like a wee innocent?" She laughed suddenly. "Do I need to remind you of that time in fifth year when you snuck into the boys change room?"

I spluttered for a moment, then glared. "That was on a dare! And can we not talk about this right now?"

I gave her a pointed look before my attention was drawn to the back of the classroom. James, Sirius and Remus had all strolled into the classroom. It only took a moment for James's eyes to find mine before he smiled.

"Lily," he said, nodding.

"James," I returned unthinkingly with a tight-lipped smile. He smiled a bit wider at the use of his first name, since I used it so rarely when speaking to him. Lately though, I had been using it more often. Chelsea was staring at me, her head tipped to the side as she contemplated something.

"What?" I asked, my gaze narrowing. Her blue eyes went wide, falsely innocent.

"Oh nothing," she said before grinning at me. "C'mon Lily dearest. Sit down before Slughorn arrives."

I sat against my better judgement. After so many years of friendship, it was easy to know when Chelsea was plotting something - and she was definitely plotting something. Trouble was, I didn't know what.

Slughorn hurried into class a moment later, shooting me a quick smile as he rushed to the front of the room.

"Sorry, class!" he said, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. "Got caught up in a bit of a chat with Professor Sappling, you know how it is. You can never pass up good conversation - that's what I always say! Now -"

Slughorn stopped abruptly, suddenly distracted by movement to my right. I turned, expecting to see a student rushing to their seat. Instead, I found Chelsea with her arm raised.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. She ignored me, but I could see her lips twitch upwards.

"Yes, Miss Fanrae?" Slughorn asked. He was a bit startled. Chelsea never raised her hand in Potions.

"Proffessor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could switch seats for this class?"

"What?" I exclaimed, glaring at her. Her gaze remained on Slughorn.

"We're working on the Phunny Philter this class, aren't we? I'm rather allergic to beetle's knees, you see, and I think it would be unfair to make Miss Evans work all alone…" she trailed off, sighing, and batting her eyelashes. Sughorn's brows furrowed.

"Well," he said, rubbing at his forehead. "That's…that's very kind of you, Miss Fanrae, but there's no one to-"

Chelsea cut him off, smiling brightly, "Yes there is, Professor! James Potter is in a group of three and I'm sure he would be more than happy to be partnered with Lily."

I glared at Chelsea, but she didn't seem to notice or care all that much. Slughorn scratched his receding hairline. "Well, if Mr Potter doesn't mind, I…I guess that would be alright."

"I don't mind, Professor."

"Lovely," Chelsea said, already rising form her seat. "Then I'll just be off to the library, yeah? I'll be working on your brilliant assignment concerning dragon's blood and sleeping draughts. Cheerio!" She was smiling brightly, already halfway out the door.

"Er, Miss Fanrae…" but Slughorn seemed at a loss for words, and instead waved a hand and sighed. "I suppose that's fine. Mr Potter, would you please join Miss Evans at the front?"

"Sure thing, Professor," James said, sliding into the seat next to me a moment later. My gaze stayed glued to my potions text book.

As Slughorn prattled on about the proper technique to use when gutting your Higgin's Snarkle, I busied myself by organising my potions kit - lining up all the ingredients in the proper order and making sure every phial was sparkling clean. I could feel James watching me. He cleared his throat when Slughorn stopped speaking.

"So," he said, giving me a tentative smile. "Shall we get started?"

"Yes, of course," I said, moving to light the fire beneath our cauldron. My hand brushed James', and my heart stopped. It was ridiculous, really, but I could have sworn I felt a spark race up my arm. Excuses about static electricity flickered through my mind as I glanced up at him, my hand still touching his, frozen in the air between us. He didn't say a word as he looked down at me, his hazel eyes unreadable behind his glasses. I felt my face flush, and a moment later I found the strength to look away. I coughed, clearing my throat as I muttered apologies about bumping him.

"Lily,' he started, an odd roughness to his voice. I didn't look at him, instead rumbaing around in my bag.

"You'll light the fire then, yes? Brilliant."

I heard him sigh, and I knew he'd be running his hands through his hair again as he did so. He lit the cauldron fire as I set about slicing up beetle knees and newt elbows. James began adding the Salamander saliva and the pureed bezoar to the cauldron , casting me unanswered glances every so often.

"You've been acting very oddly as of late, Lily Evans," he said, exasperated after half an hour of silence. He was stirring our potion with smooth, slow circles as it slowly bubbled and turned a deep, rich yellow.

"Really," I asked, still avoiding looking at him directly. "How so?"

"Well, I thought we were sort of…" he trailed off, sounding unsure. "Not necessarily mates, but at the least we'd become cordial acquaintances."

"And we're not anymore?"

"If we are, you're sure not acting like it."

"What?" I asked, finally looking at him. His hurt tone bothered me more that I would have liked it to.

He looked confused. "You've hardly spoken two words to me ever since…well, the elevator thing."

"It not like we had marathon conversations before that, James," I said, looking away again as I returned to gutting the snarkle we needed before the potion was complete. His hand fell over mine, stopping the knife I held.

"But you're different. Distant. You hardly even look at me anymore. At least before when you were yelling at me, you bloody looked at me."

I frowned at his hand on mine and the odd sensations I felt in my fingers. His hands were calloused from too much quidditch, but the roughness felt alarmingly pleasant. Memories of working on homework together in the Head's common floated through my mind. The laughter, the ease of being around him. I suddenly felt unnerved, so I lashed out. I looked up at him sharply.

"Don't get it into your head that we're anything more than just mates, Potter," I told him sternly.

He removed his hand from mine, rolling his eyes. "Would you give it a rest, Lily? I'm not as thick as you think - I know a dead end when I see one. I gave up on you a long time ago."

I felt the surprise slip over my features. Why did this admission bother me so much? A moment later, my gaze narrowed. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he sighed. "I just want to be mates, Lily."

There was a mixture of reactions floating through my head, from the irate, "It's bloody well about time you got the sodding message!" to the pitiful, whiny, "You don't fancy me anymore?", but I settled for the much more respectable, "Well then, mates we shall be."

He smiled at that, then glanced at the cauldron and frowned. "When were we supposed to add the snarkle?"

"When the potion started to go from yellow to pink."

"Hm."

"What do you mean, 'hm'?" I asked warily. He flashed me smile, showing perfect white teeth. "Well, you see…" he said as he lifted the ladle and tilted it toward me. The potion was a deep red.

"James!" I exclaimed, shoving him lightly. "You've ruined it!" I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. He chuckled.

"I ruined it?"

"Yes, you, you big oaf!" I continued to laugh. I wasn't quite sure what had come over me. Maybe all the weird feelings I'd been experiencing and the stress they brought had finally made me crack.

James smiled at me. "Can we fix it?"

"Maybe," I sighed, staring at the cauldron. "Have we got any raven feathers?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Possibly," he said, reaching for his potion kit. A moment later he brandished the dark feather at me. "One raven's feather," he smiled.

I ignored the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as I took the feather from him.

"Okay then," I said, slowly returning his smile. "I think we can fix this."


A/N: Thank you for reading! Hopefully you can spare a moment to review - you'll make my day!

SuperSpy