Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR, as always!
A/N: Please review! It'll make my day...and happy writers update faster...
Chapter Four
Sweet like candy to my soul...sweet you rock and sweet you roll...lost for you— I'm so lost for you. –Dave Matthews Band
"You're late, Potter."
"I know, I know—I'm sorry, Evans, Quidditch ran late..."
"You're Captain! Quidditch ends when you say it ends!"
"It was tryouts, Evans; there were a lot of people—"
"I don't care; you're supposed to be here, on time—"
The prefects were watching the argument as though it were a highly contested tennis match, their heads swinging from alternately Lily to James. Remus Lupin finally cleared his throat and said, "Er—Lily? James? The meeting?"
Casting one final glare in James' direction, Lily smoothed her hair back in an attempt to regain her self-control and said, voice official, "Right. Well—first there's the patrolling duties..."
As the prefects become conscious that the dramatics of the evening had concluded, the atmosphere in the meeting room shifted from excitement to hazy boredom.
"Potter," Lily snapped as the meeting ended and the prefects trudged out sleepily. "Do try arriving on time next meeting, will you?"
He groaned. "I already told you, Evans, Quidditch went on a bit longer than expected. And I wasn't that late."
"It doesn't matter how late you were, Potter! We're supposed to set an example for the prefects—"
James cut her off by calling out, "Oy! Remus!" Remus, looking apprehensive as he neared the pair, said warily, "Yeah?"
"Do you feel as though mine is a good example for young prefects to follow?"
Remus laughed despite the angry scowl on Lily's face. "No, mate. Definitely not."
"That's not the point, Potter!"
"Oh? Then what was the point, Evans?"
"You were given a responsibility! You can't just—you can't just brush that off like it's worthless!"
"Evans. I'll tell McGonagall why I was late. She won't bloody care."
"That's still not the point, Potter! Dumbledore put his trust in you and you're—"
"I wasn't skiving, I was at bloody Quidditch. Give it a rest, Evans, and lighten up."
He turned to leave for the common room, and she followed him, fuming at his back the entire way.
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Lily stormed over to where Emmeline was hunched over a small table far from the fireplace; she was frowning at her open Potions book and occasionally scribbling on her parchment. Still smarting over James bloody Potter, Lily huffed to her,
"Who does he think he is?"
Without looking up, Emmeline said dryly, "I take it the prefects' meeting went well?"
"He's such an arrogant prat! I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, making him Head Boy!"
"What happened?" Emmeline asked, feeling as though she had had this conversation many times before.
"He was bloody late. And then he wouldn't even apologize! Or admit that he has a responsibility as Head Boy to be at the meetings on time!"
"Lily," Emmeline said, looking up, alarmed. "You need to relax. Why was he late?"
"Bloody Quidditch."
"Well," Emmeline said soothingly, "they did have tryouts today; I would imagine that would take a bit of time—"
There was a great shout of laughter from near the fireplace; Lily and Emmeline both looked over. It seemed that a small crowd had gathered around the four boys sitting on the floor in front of the fire. Lily looked closer: Potter and Black were deep in a game of Exploding Snap.
"Really!" she snapped, green eyes flashing. "You're trying to study, other people are trying to sleep, and they're being so loud?"
Emmeline shrugged and returned to her Potions book. "It doesn't really bother me, Lily—what're you doing?" For Lily had gotten up and was making her way over to the center of the common room.
"Some people are trying to study, Potter!" she said furiously.
"Lily," Emmeline whispered, grabbing her arm and pulling her somewhat back. "I don't care, you don't have to—" Lily ignored her and Emmeline suspected that she was just looking for a reason to let some of her frustrations loose on an unsuspecting James Potter.
Both James and Sirius glanced up at the two girls. "Were we bothering you, Vance?" James asked good-naturedly.
Emmeline shot a glare at Lily. "No," she said firmly. "You weren't bothering me. Please, carry on." And, yanking on Lily's arm, she led the other girl away from the fireplace. The crowd seemed almost disappointed that they weren't going to be privy to an entertaining argument.
"What's wrong with you, Lily?" Emmeline demanded after they had returned to her table. "You're positively obsessed with picking fights with James Potter!"
Lily stared at her dubiously. "I'm not obsessed," she defended.
"Yes, you are," Emmeline said, pulling her Potions book onto her lap and beginning to write on her parchment again. "You want him to do something wrong so you can yell at him. Honestly, Lily, if you want to have a reason to talk to him, all you have to do is agree to go out with him."
Lily flushed. "Don't be absurd, Emmeline," she snapped. "I don't want to date James Potter."
"You keep saying that," Emmeline said slyly, "but you like to talk about him an awful lot."
Before Lily could protest, Emmeline continued brightly, "Now, if you're going to bother me, Evans, you might as well make yourself useful." She offered her quill to Lily. "List the uses of gillyweed for me? I have to finish this essay for Slughorn by tomorrow and I'm not nearly done."
After casting one final look of loathing towards James Potter, Lily took Emmeline's quill and scribbled onto a scrap of parchment. "You struggling with Potions, Em?" Lily wanted to know concernedly.
Emmeline shrugged. "Not really struggling, just don't have enough time to do it. With Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology and Astronomy...I barely have time to sleep. I meant to do this essay during dinner, but I was doing Charms...which I was supposed to do during my free period."
"Did you spend all of your free period in the library?"
"Most of it," Emmeline admitted sheepishly.
"You need to take a break from trying to find out about Dorcas," Lily scolded gently. "She'll show up soon enough."
Emmeline nodded in hazy acquiescence; she wondered why her eyelids suddenly felt so heavy.
"And why are you taking Astronomy?" Lily wanted to know, reminding Emmeline of her mother. "You don't need that to be a Healer."
"It's one of my favorite classes," Emmeline said with a sigh, rubbing her temples. "I couldn't bear to drop it."
Lily was watching her with a worried expression on her face. "Give it here," she said finally, holding out her hand expectantly. Emmeline stared at her.
"What are you going on about?"
"Hand over your Potions essay," Lily said resolutely. "And go get some sleep."
"But—I thought you—Lily, you're just as tired as I am!"
Lily smiled a little. "Not right now, I'm not...I'll regret doing this in the morning, though, so I suggest you be extra kind to me at breakfast."
Emmeline didn't move for a minute, and then she threw her arms around Lily's shoulders, the table still between them. "You're a doll," Emmeline told her gratefully.
"Yes, yes," Lily said with a small laugh as Emmeline let go of her and began to gather up her other books from the floor. "Just don't—"
"Oh, like I'd be thick enough to tell anyone," Emmeline said disbelievingly.
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"Wormtail, you're staring. She hasn't looked over here once all night; stop bloody staring at her."
"Sorry," Peter mumbled, shifting his gaze to the fire. Sirius shook his head.
"You've got it bad, mate," he informed Peter, who sighed.
"I know," he said mournfully. "It's horrible."
"Have you even had a proper conversation with her?"
"No. I can't think of anything to say."
Sirius shook his head. "Just—bloody hell, mate, just talk to her."
"Right now?"
Sirius turned and looked over to where Emmeline Vance was sitting. She hadn't looked up once from the thick book on her table and was deep in the middle of writing something, pausing only to shake out her hand or to cover her yawning mouth.
"Nah, she's busy now...don't ever interrupt a girl when she's busy, she'll tear your head off," Sirius advised, turning back to Peter. He nodded, seeming to comprehend the dangers of this.
"How—how should I start?"
Sirius stared at him. "Generally, Wormtail, when people want to start a conversation, they begin with words like 'Hello' and 'how are you'. But those are just suggestions."
Peter smiled weakly. "Right. What if—"
The entrance to the common room swung open and Remus and James climbed through, followed closely by a scowling and very angry-looking Lily Evans.
"Evening, mates," James said cheerfully, looking thoroughly unconcerned that Lily Evans kept shooting him hate-filled glares; he sat next to Sirius and stretched. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?"
"I'll take you up on that," Sirius said, eager to get away from Peter's constant questioning on how best to land Emmeline Vance. Every time the lovesick bloke cast another forlorn look at her, a nasty worm gnawed on Sirius' stomach.
"Peter," Remus said gently as James and Sirius began their game. "You know you're staring, right?"
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As the days slipped by without word from Dorcas, Emmeline noticed in The Daily Prophet (which she was now reading daily during her free period in the library with Sirius Black, under the pretense of 'studying') that Sirius had been, in fact, wrong, about the attacks on Muggleborns.
Look, she kept saying, pointing at the articles, which were becoming more and more numerous as the pile of newspapers began to dwindle. They're moving closer to the front; they're almost to the front page—that has to mean something, yeah?
He brushed off her concerns and told her crossly that it meant nothing; she didn't believe him.
The days crept on and soon it had been a fortnight since the beginning of term and still no word from Dorcas. Emmeline was beginning to panic a little: she and Sirius had almost depleted the supply of newspapers.
"Would you stop worrying?" Sirius finally demanded. "You fidget when you worry and it's driving me bonkers."
She drummed her fingers on the table and said slowly, ignoring his previous statement, "It's been almost three weeks since term started and Dorcas still isn't back. There's nothing in any of the obituaries about anyone in her family, but—"
"Give it a rest," Sirius groaned, rubbing his forehead.
"You were wrong," she finished. His eyes snapped to hers.
"About what?"
"The attacks on Muggleborns," she said frankly, thrusting her newspaper at him. "They're getting worse; this one made the front page."
He snatched the paper from her and she watched his expression, looking for some kind of reaction.
"Still think it doesn't mean anything?" she asked him curiously. He handed the paper back to her and said flatly, "Congratulations, Vance—you were right. It does mean something."
She waited for him to continue; when he didn't she pressed, "What do you think—"
"Shhhh!" someone hissed irritably. Both Emmeline and Sirius looked over to where the sound had come. Amos Diggory was scowling at them, a thick Transfiguration book open on his table, his quill paused on what looked to be copious notes. "Some of us are trying to study!" he added petulantly.
Before Sirius could give an angry retort, Emmeline whispered hurriedly, "Sorry, Amos...we're leaving." She shoved the papers back into their cabinet, and clamped down on Sirius' wrist, dragging him from the library. Madam Pince glowered at them as they left.
"Didn't know all it took was someone like Amos Diggory saying, 'Boo' to get you running scared," Sirius scoffed sarcastically to her once she had let go of his wrist. He rubbed absently where her hand had been as though she had burned him.
"It doesn't," she defended. "I want to know what you think about the attacks and if Amos had continued carrying on, Pince would've come nosing round."
"Why do you want to know what I think about the attacks?" he asked.
"Because you're a pureblood," she replied easily.
"So is James."
"You know what I mean, Black."
He scowled at her and ran his hands through his hair. Yeah, he knew what she meant and he didn't like it. He was in bloody Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake!
"I'm not like them—" he began angrily.
"I know that, Sirius," she said impatiently. "You're nothing like that lot, I understand. But that doesn't change the fact that you have all this useful inside information on how their minds tick."
He stared at her. "Why?" he said finally. At her look, he clarified, "Why do you want to know how the mind of the nutty and blood obsessed ticks?"
She hesitated and said after a long pause, "I'm Muggleborn, Sirius. Best know what I'll be up against come June, yeah?"
"You're not up against anything, Vance—"
Emmeline cut him off with a derisive laugh. "Did you even read that article I showed you in the library, Black? The Ministry thinks all these attacks—only on Muggleborns and Muggles, mind you—are all the work of the same wizard. Or at least, the same wizard and his followers...and we can't stay at Hogwarts forever."
"But they could catch him by June—"
She laughed again. "He's been attacking people since this June, Black. It's already September and all the Ministry knows is his name and they won't even say it, they're all so terrified of him..."
Unable to conjure any arguments against her logic, Sirius simply stared at her.
"Well?" she asked.
He shook his head at her, defeated. "Keep in mind, Vance," he warned, "that I'm nothing like this lot..."
"Yeah, yeah, consider it kept," she said impatiently.
Feeling as though he was about to plunge into icy cold water, Sirius sighed and said, "There are different kinds of purebloods, Vance...the kind like the Potters, who don't give a rat's arse about blood and heritage, and the kind like the Blacks."
"Who do give a rat's arse," she interjected and he rolled his eyes at her.
"Yeah, you're a brilliant one, Vance...what exactly can you not infer from that?"
Frustrated, she blew her fringe out of her face. "I just don't understand how something as uncontrollable as blood decides your status!"
He smiled wryly. "You're asking the wrong Black, Vance...I suggest you ask Regulus if you're so curious..." He fairly spat out his brother's name.
Emmeline shuddered in disgust at the mention of Sirius' younger brother; she didn't know how two people who were so different could have been brought up in the same household...but it was the same way with Lily and Petunia, so she supposed her confusion was a symptom of being an only child.
"Sorry I couldn't be of more help, then," Sirius offered. As an afterthought, he added, "I didn't know you were Muggleborn, Vance."
She nodded. "Yeah, my parents were shocked when I got my letter. Took a fair amount of pleading to get them to allow me to come here. Something about going to a respectable school...a Muggle school," she clarified at his confused look.
They began to walk aimlessly down the hall.
"What do they do?" he asked interestedly.
"Well—my dad's a doctor—a Muggle healer," she explained, eyeing him and wondering where this was going. "And my mum's a teacher—primary school. Mostly the eleven year old set. Why?"
"No reason," he said vaguely, but there was a wistful expression on his face that Emmeline doubted he was aware of.
"Sirius..." she began. The expression vanished and he seemed to sense where the conversation was heading.
"Don't," he warned. She blinked and plowed on, undaunted, "What's your family like?"
He groaned. "We've been over this, Vance...and I would think you would have gotten the picture from what we were just discussing about purebloods..."
She refused to be dissuaded. "Yes, you told me what they believe, but not what they're like. Why does it bother you so much?"
He rounded on her and she actually took a step back, her back touching the stone wall; he looked furious.
"My bloody family," he snarled, "isn't like yours, Vance. My mum's not a bloody teacher and my dad doesn't spend his days patching people up! You were raised differently from me!"
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no shite, Sherlock but his eyes were fairly blazing at her and she knew he wouldn't brush the remark off as easily as he had before. And really, she didn't fancy being transfigured into a teacup by Sirius Black simply because she hadn't the good sense to know when to keep her mouth shut.
"You—you—my parents disowned me for refusing to believe that people like you are inferior to people like me! Bloody hell, Emmeline, I was blasted off the damn family tree!" He stopped and she blinked, not fully understanding his ranting about his family tree—but she could tell it was a severe punishment from his face, which was now inches from hers.
"Sirius—"
"I'm living in a bloody flat," he continued, voice calmer but eyes still burning, "because my mum refuses to let me back into our house."
"Would you want to go back?" she asked, keeping her eyes locked on his. "Would you really want to go back to a place like that?"
He laughed humourlessly. "No," he admitted, pushing a hand through his black hair.
"Then why—"
"It's just the thought," he interrupted her. "The thought that I can't go home, no matter how much I loathed the place. And trust me, Vance...that place was hell for me."
He stopped and Emmeline felt a sudden, sharp stab of pity for him. In her mind's eye, she saw him as a small boy who only wanted his mother's love and approval...and she had barred him from his house. Compassion, swift and warm, flared in her heart and she just wanted to chase away that hopeless look in his eyes so—she kissed him.
He had a very nice mouth, Emmeline decided; and although he reared back in slight surprise, he kissed her back. Her view of him as a little boy vanished; he was definitely not a little boy...and he was a very good kisser...
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"Hey Emmeline," came an anxious from over her shoulder that night at dinner. "Mind if I—if we sit here?"
Emmeline turned, mouth half-full with biscuits. Peter Pettigrew was standing behind her seat, flanked by Remus Lupin, James Potter, and—wonderful—Sirius Black. She glanced over at Lily, who shrugged, and Marlene, who rolled her eyes towards the ceiling of the Great Hall—a clear, starry night—as if to say, here we go again.
Emmeline swallowed and mumbled, "Sure, go ahead."
Thankfully, there was enough room for all of them to sit without their elbows knocking against each other. Determinedly avoiding Sirius Black's gaze, Emmeline opened her mouth to say something to Lily when Peter said shyly, "How was your day, Emmeline?"
She blinked at him, feeling about of déjà vu. "It—it was good, Peter. Yours?"
"It was good, too," he said and she was surprised when he continued, "I heard your roommate Dorcas hasn't come back yet...is she alright?" Emmeline shot a look at Sirius, as if to say, Thanks for opening your fat mouth. He smirked at her and she felt her face grow hot as she remembered their...more friendly actions in the corridor only hours ago.
"Speaking of Dorcas," Marlene cut in. "Have you found anything?"
"Nope," Emmeline sighed, reaching for another biscuit. "Nothing."
"I'm sure she's fine," Peter offered boldly. Emmeline, careful not to let her surprise show on her face, smiled at him encouragingly and felt Sirius' eyes on her. She pointedly ignored him.
"So Evans," James Potter said abruptly; Peter glared at him. "I didn't get a chance to ask you at the prefects' meeting but just out of curiosity...who's your patrolling partner?"
Emmeline looked over at Lily and fought back a smile at her friend's tight grip on her fork. "I don't have one, Potter."
"That's hardly a good idea, Evans," James replied easily. "Pretty girls shouldn't wander corridors late at night, especially alone." He winked at her. "There are dangerous blokes wandering about, waiting to accost girls like you."
"So far, Potter," Lily said tersely, "the only one I'm worried about being accosted by is you."
Emmeline snorted into her pumpkin juice. James looked highly affronted.
"Now, Evans," he said, an overly hurt expression spreading on his face. "That's hardly fair...I wouldn't accost you in a darkened corridor..."
"But in a well-lit one, all bets are off," Sirius added, smirking. Lily scowled at both of them and said loudly to Emmeline, "And you agreed to let them sit with us again why?"
Emmeline looked up and—damn, met Sirius' eyes. His smirk boardened; she looked away quickly, feeling a blush spread over her face.
"Half of them are tolerable," she mumbled.
Peter turned a bright red and a toothy, foolish grin split his face, glossing over the bit where she didn't really name him as one of the more tolerable of James' friends. She had to mean him; after all, it was perfectly obvious to the most casual observer that she didn't like Sirius—she could barely look at him; and any friend of Lily Evans' wouldn't describe James Potter as "tolerable" within her earshot. His smile broadened hopefully and he thought maybe—maybe there could be a chance.
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"What're you going to do about your Peter Pettigrew problem?" Marlene asked Emmeline once they were alone in their dorm.
Emmeline blew out a long breath. "I have no clue," she admitted, rubbing her forehead and collapsing onto her bed. She was more concerned about her Sirius Black problem.
"You can't lead him on," Lily said sharply. "That would be downright cruel." So is snogging one of his best friends when you know he fancies you, jeered a voice in the back of Emmeline's mind. She felt a pang of shame.
"You think I want to lead him on?" she asked disbelievingly. "I don't like him hovering around me constantly anymore than you lot!"
"Just tell him that then," Marlene said impatiently. "I don't mind his friends, but Peter Pettigrew is bloody annoying and I'll be thrilled when he stops fancying you so we can eat in peace." She punctuated this by snapping open her Charms book and unrolling a fresh roll of parchment.
Emmeline rolled her eyes. "It's not that simple, Marlene...I've got to figure out how to do it gently but not so gently he doesn't—"
The door to their dormitory opened suddenly. All three girls turned.
Dorcas Meadowes stood in the door frame; there were dark smudges under her eyes and she looked much too thin.
"Hullo," she said wearily, dropping her trunk at her side.
A/N: I think that's a good place to leave it, yeah? Review...and maybe I'll see if I can get Chapter 5 up before Deathly Hallows on Saturday. :)