Chapter 7
"Something Different"
James.
Her eyes are green. Brightest damn green I've ever seen. Only person I know, actually, who has green eyes. And don't ask me to describe them any further. I just, don't know. Jade-green, maybe?
I know how to describe them for me. They're lovely, and bright, and that probably doesn't mean a lot to anyone who hasn't had the chance to gaze into them.
Her hair's firey red. It's wavy, and fell just past her shoulders. Her part was never completely centered, strands usually crossing this way and that, and the way she'd run her hand back through it, just giving her this casual look of elegance.
Her milky skin contrasted quaintly with her crimson waves of hair, and her bright green eyes -- so wild, and full of dreams -- contrasted with everything else. Her lips were pouty, and were a dusty-pink colour. Just soft, and delicate. And her smile was innocent, and tugged at your heartstrings -- But her eyes, was like looking at a completely different person. It was the oddest feeling in the world, just being around her.
I'm not sure what I was doing up, just sitting in the common room at 6 AM on a Saturday. I liked my sleep. Needed my sleep. Went through some crazy withdrawal if I didn't get enough sleep. Which usually involved me, 6 cups of coffee, and forgetting loads of things. So my weekends were what I lived for. And I was awake...
In December the sun didn't completely rise until 8, and things were still shadowy then. So, yeah, it was rather dark. Though, there was some light creeping in from the edges, softening up the dark, and bringing navy into the sky.
I sprawled out on the couch, after having added wood to the fireplace, and charmed it again. It needed re-charmed every morning, to stay going throughout the day.
I was letting her in too fast. She was just so sweet, and persuasive. I hardly knew her, she...she didn't know that much about me. Enough, I suppose. But when a girl says all she wants is some friends, Hell, you can't really help but warm up to her.
She was Lily...Lily Evans, and that's about all I needed to know right now.
That, and, when she woke up that morning she was wearing the sweatshirt she had taken from me a few nights ago. That struck me as important.
Lily.
Warm. And shaky.
I was warm and shaky when I woke up to a dark morning. It must've been morning, early at that, because I assumed I hadn't slept until that evening, or something.
Normally I would just roll over and go back to sleep, but there was something oddly inviting about this incompleted morning, and how bloody warm I was, and how my whole body would wrack with a shudder, as if my nerves were on some sort of high.
I rubbed my eyes, and quickly pulled a pair of socks on, because when my feet are cold, it's as if all of me is cold, and I wanted to enjoy this.
I didn't look to the clock as I walked from the dorm, because maybe if I had I would not have been idiot enough to get up. Or maybe I would've considered what I was wearing.
You feel so completely different in the morning, then in the afternoon. When you wake up early in the morning you just know it's early. For me, at least, I quiver, and yawn a lot, and there's just this overwhelming sense of security, and serenity.
I'm sure it was my loud breathing that alerted him of my presence. Otherwise, I had been quiet. But the almost stifling warmth of the Common Room made me take a deep breath, and hold it, and then try to catch it again. It felt so nice. Almost like Christmas morning. Almost. For usually I was at home, dreading getting out of bed to the cold, wood floors. I get so excited for Christmas, though. Or just the days leading up to Christmas, because they're the ones I spend at Hogwarts. Christmas at home is never anything to get excited over.
My parents have been divorced since I was 8. I hardly recall a Christmas when we were all together, and happy. I do remember picking out a tree with my Dad, and how I walked onto a frozen puddle of water, and the ice cracked, and I was up to my knees in cold, muddy water. It was so awful. I never liked cutting our own trees down after that. But at least my Dad tried to make a deal out of Christmas. He used to do the decorating. And he used to buy most of the presents. And he used to try to calm Petunia & I on Christmas Eve, making sure we knew that Santa wouldn't come if we were awake, and all of that.
And sometimes, I guess, it's good. Remembering those brief childhood memories, and getting that surge of excitement again.
December was my favourite month, especially here. It was the perfect Christmas scene, even only 2 days in to the month.
I wrapped my arms around myself, and my back had actually began aching from the shudders I was trying to suppress. It was like my breathing echoed in the large room, that was overloaded with armchairs, and sofas, and chairs, and tables, and other furniture. It was so cozy.
The sky was a dark navy, and was slowly getting lighter, and the fire was blazing furiously. So the room danced with strange colours.
And James was there, laying on the couch. One of his arms folded behind his head, and the other crossed over his stomach.
I tilted my head, and gazed at him through rather bleary eyes. James Potter, I swear it, slept like 22 hours on a Saturday. And here he was...He must've been sleeping, though...
"What is it about a Saturday morning that's so attractive?" He wasn't sleeping, apparently. Though his voice was thick, and he spoke slowly.
"Good question," I mumbled through a yawn. "What time is it?"
James flopped his arm down near his face, and he peered at his watch for a few moments before deciding to read it. "6:06."
"Jesus Christ almighty," I rubbed at my cheeks, trying to wake up, and then ran my hand back through my hair, combing my fingers through it. "That's insane. I've not been up this early for ages..."
Our classes started by 9 o'clock, so getting up at 7:30 or 8 worked all right for me.
"So that brings me back to my original question. Why up so early this morning?" He sat up, and beckoned me to come sit next to him.
Slowly, I did so, feeling his eyes so completely focused on me as I walked from behind the couch, where I had been standing, to sit next to him on the couch.
"That's my shirt." He murmured under his breath, and he wasn't blinking as he looked at me.
"I don't...I don't know why I'm up early. I just woke up, and was warm," I clasped my hands together. "And I like being warm when I wake up. Thus here I am. And," I looked at him, smiling. "Yeah, it is. Your sweater I mean."
I drew my eyes down to look at the grey sweatshirt, and fiddled with the hem along the bottom.
"Keep it. I've got more clothes than a boy should have as it is."
I laughed hoarsely. "Keep it? No, no...Well," I shrugged. "Actually, I think I planned on it."
"Good. You know...Most girls think that guys don't like them wearing their clothes. Their sweaters. Girls seem to think that guys find them unattractive in baggy sweaters, that fall to their knees," His sweater fell just about to my knees. "And they think we're hesitant about letting them wear them. But honestly, Lily, spread the word -- it's an ego boost to us guys. There's nothing better than having your friends ask -- isn't that your shirt? -- when a beau..." He paused, and regained whatever it had been that he lost for that moment. "pretty girl is wearing it."
"Well then. I...ohkay." I half-laughed, having no idea where that had come from, but it wasn't bad having him just...talk.
Beautiful, though. I swore it was going to come out of his mouth. He was going to say it. I was wearing his shirt, and I had caused an ego boost, and he thought I was...I was beautiful.
I wasn't conceited, I just wasn't. I didn't spend loads of time worrying about how I looked, and I certainly didn't think I was beautiful. My Mum had told me early on that girls with red hair weren't pretty or beautiful, they were just average. And to never get my hopes up over boys thinking I was something special.
And to this day I like to think that her saying that didn't crush me, and kill me, and diminish a part of me, and turn me into some needy, but cautious, jumpy, bitch. I still like to think it didn't. Like to think it didn't. Like to think she didn't. Like to think that...that she cared, or something.
Petunia was a brunette. Mum had light-brown hair. My Dad's hair was almost blonde...And I had red hair. My Dad's grandmum had red hair. And I got it, I guess. The red hair. Some kids, maybe, wouldn't second guess their bloody natural hair colour...but I wasn't pretty, I was just average. Dammit.
"Lily?"
"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking." He was rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, yet kept his gaze on me.
"Mmm. So, we're friends, Lil?"
It was suddenly apparent to me...That James was a Marauder. It just occured to me, as I gazed up at him with slightly narrowed eyes, and small smile, as I thought.
Sirius was charming, smooth, a bit obnoxious, handsome, and arrogant. Remus held the same qualities. Charming, and suave. And handsome, and smooth, and I'm sure he could even hold an air of arrogance at times.
I guess it made sense, that they were alike. Remus may have been a bit quieter, yet a bit more vocal with his insight. And Sirius may have been a bit more boisterous, but he could be just as insightful, I'm sure of it.
And until this morning I never...I guess I never realized how James was like them two. It just never stood out at me before. It never was there, in my face, the fact that he was a Marauder, and they were all best friends, and it was just the way he was looking at me, just then.
His face was stubbly, as he was unshaven. And his eyes seemed so smoldering, and dark. They seemed rather lidded, like he was having a time keeping them open, and there were circles beneath them. It just made him look like the other two. Dark circles, because they didn't sleep near as much as James did.
He wore a pair of loose, navy, sweat pants, and a white, fitted, t-shirt.
His voice was hoarse, kind of scratchy on certain things he'd say. And he was saying things, for christ's sake. It was a lot to ask to have a conversation with James.
And his adam's apple seemed to just draw attention to itself, the way it bobbed when he swallowed, or smiled...
He was suddenly, and completely very...male. Not a man. Because he was a boy, Sirius was a boy, Remus was a boy, every guy is a boy until the day they die, because that's the day they've earned the right to be called a man. Until then they're just boys. Naive, stubborn, pretty, sweet, boys.
But he was the definition of male right now. Incredibly masculine. Even the way the shadows danced in the corners of his features...
I swallowed, and blinked a few times, my gaze unfocused. "James," I smiled. "Yes, we're friends."
"It's insane. I hardly know you, but just ca,-"
"That's not bloody necessary," I interrupted shortly.
He smiled at me gently. "I just meant...Ohkay. Never mind it. But yeah, friends."
There was some admitted defeat in his voice, and yeah, I felt it, too. Understood why he would be admitting defeat by saying those words.
It just...this morning it felt like we were in some dramatic, romance novel. James Potter & I sitting there, realizing we were friends, and I wanted him to be my best friend, and Sirius had kissed me, and James was wearing a bloody WHITE, FITTED t-shirt, and we both liked to sleep, but were up early, and it was just like we were surrendering to friends. We could've been long, lost lovers, had things been different, and different people exchanged kisses, and had Sirius Black not been so damn appealing. Soul mates. Lovers. Just anything that would have connected us at the soul, we could have been, but weren't going to be. Friends. We were...friends.
And as disappointed as most may be over it, I wanted it so, so much. Friends.
Lovers, and soul mates are connected at the soul, but little did I know at the time -- so are best friends. Especially ones with a friendship that goes to Hell, and back again.
"Thank you, James. For being my friend. You've no reason at all to let me in." He stood, for some reason, and had a clenched jaw as he looked down at me.
I thought he was angry for a moment, but then...heh.
One of his index fingers jumped to his right cheek, and he rubbed it just beneath his glasses. After doing that, he rubbed the back of his neck, and then rumpled his hair.
"You're welcome. That's ridculous, actually. You don't...have to thank me...I should thank...Well, just...Jesus Christ, just,-" He waved the unfinished, modest, statement aside, and started new. "You know that welcome winter, bonfire thing tonight?" He raised a single eyebrow -- he could only do that at certain times, I cam to find -- and looked at me questioningly.
"Oh! Right! I forgot we could go to that this year. Yeah, what about it?" It was this tradition, I guess, for the 7th years. There was always this big bonfire -- that was warm, warm, warm -- down near Hagrid's (the groundkeeper's) cabin. Earlier in the evening there was ice skating on the lake, and there were warm blankets, and hot cocoa, and friends talking, and boys bonding, and sometimes a couple of Professors would come down to check on things, but it was just a big get-together, that reminded us that yeah, this is it, 7th year. Final year.
"Are you goin' to it?" He seemed so casual, yet he insisted on rubbing his cheek, and kinda jiggling his foot. They -- his nervous habits -- drove you absolutely MAD, but hmm...I dunno. Later, I realized, that those bloody habits of his helped him through things. Made him who he was. They were friggin' adorable, honestly.
"Well, now that I've remembered it, I'll probably go," I scrunched my nose and laughed, as I stood up, too. "It sounds cute."
James grinned, and went to shove his hands in his pockets -- which there weren't any of in the sweat pants. I couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head, and chuckled, too. It was another security thing for him. Knowing he could hide his hands in his pockets, hide some of him from people. "I'm going, too, I guess."
"Ah, you and the Marauders going to be wreacking havoc, mmm?"
He looked away from me, and focused on the end of the couch. "Well. There's some thing going on in Hogsmeade, at the three broomsticks. I guess they think they can get their hands on some alcohol, so..." James grinned lopsidedly, and oh he looked so cute, and young. His messed up hair, and devilish grin. I've never seen him grin so good-naturedly.
But wait. The chance to go to Hogsmeade -- for everyone would be distracted, and the Professors wouldn't even notice four missing boys, one who had an invisibility cloak -- hit on Madame Rosmerta -- gah, seriously, Sirius has a thing for flirting with older women, even if she's not that much older -- and get alcohol? Why the hell was he passing this one up?
"So, if you wanna go together, or whatever. 'Cause I won't have anybody to hang out with, and your friends," His cheeks grew a bit red, and he cleared his throat. "And you may not have anybody to hang out with. So if you wanna go together, and hang out together, that'd be...nice."
Oh.
I don't know if he knew, and I don't know if I even knew what it was that I don't know if he knew -- I just...My head felt light, and swarmed, and the whole room to a lurch, and seemed brighter, and just...He wanted to go with me, it was just the most incredible thing in the world for him to ask me to go. To want to spend time with me. James Potter: Introvert Extraordinaire, asked me to...hang out with him. Hell, I had sit down.
He reached out, and held a hand onto my shoulder as I sunk back to the couch.
"I'd love to."
And then those smoldering, dark, hazel, green eyes looked to me with a warm, sweet, melting gaze. And he was so very there. At 12 after 6 in the morning.
"Hey. Hi. Lily." Her name was Bridget Harris. She was the prettiest girl I know, and was in Gryffindor, and in 7th year, too.
Most girls don't like admitting other girls are that pretty, but with Bridget it was more of a fact. I thought Jada was pretty enough, but it's not like I'd tell her that. She was too mean to be completely pretty.
Bridget's hair was so dark, that it was almost black. It was long, and silky, and shiny. Her hair was that of the models you see on shampoo, or hair-dye commercials. Absolutely perfect looking. Not a split end in sight.
Her bangs were a bit too long and hung in her eyes, so she usually swept them to the side. Her smile was perfect, and she had deep, brown eyes. And she was always so happy. I could've been friends with her, I supposed, had I...tried, maybe.
"Hey Bridget." I smiled at her, as we made our back to Gryffindor Tower. We had just ate supper -- it was 5 o'clock -- early, due to the activities this evening, and she had came bounding up to me in the corridor.
"Are you going to the bonfire tonight?" She asked, and I noticed just how bloody bouncy, and chipper she was. It was rather contagious, as I started walking the same fast pace she was walking at.
"Yeah, I am." I grinned at her, and she let out some sort of giggly squeal.
"Ray's taking me," She shrugged, and flipped her hair behind her ear. "Whatever 'taking me' means. A casual date, I guess."
Ray was a boyish good-looking guy in our year, in Ravenclaw, and I think her and Ray were in an on/off relationship. "A casual date..." I murmured, a certain messy-haired, hazel-eyed boy jumping to mind.
"Yeah. I dunno. Should be fun. You going with anybody?"
Well, it's not like I would be lying, because I was going with somebody.
"Mmm," I grinned. "James Potter."
Her eyes widened, and she smiled rather mischeviously. "You lucky wench. Don't tell Ray I said that."
I laughed -- a girlish laugh, that I found myself doing more often, but absolutely hated it.
"Anyways, since you're Head Girl, I thought maybe you might know if I was allowed to take a camera?" She furrowed her eyebrows.
"Oh. Well. Yeah, I suppose you can take one. Why not, right? Will it work?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I bought it in Hogsmeade. Magical one."
"That's awesome, yeah, bring it. Pictures of frolicking couples. Aw." I scrunched my nose up, and she laughed at me.
"I'll be sure to get some pictures of a certain red & raven-haired, frolicking couple," She grinned at me, spotted a friend of hers ahead of us, and bounded down the hall, waving. "See you later."
"'Bye."
We were practically to Gryffindor Tower, anyways, and the corridor had pretty much cleared out. I was walking slowly, humming to myself, and looking to the portraits hanging all over the walls.
Almost as if from the shadows, emerged Sirius Black. "Aw. Ickle Lily making friends?" He smirked at me, and I shoved him playfully.
"Shut up."
He grinned further. "Now, now. No way for a young lady to talk."
I laughed, and rolled my eyes. "I've decided you could get on my nerves."
Sirius blinked, and then shrugged, trying not to crack a grin. "Well, I s'pose that's that, then. We're through."
I shrugged, too, and we both stopped walking as we came to the portrait hole. "Too bad," I made a tutting sound. "I never loved you as it is."
He raised his eyebrows, until they almost disappeared under his fringe, and took a step closer to me, clutching a hand to his chest. "That one hurt."
I grinned, and his arms came around my waist, pulling me a bit closer. I looked up into his eyes, and tilted my head as he went serious. "What're you doing tonight?"
"Um. Mmm. Going to the bonfire thing."
"Oh, pish. Typical girl," I laughed, and circled my arms around his neck. "I suppose you wouldn't want to come to Hogsmeade with Remus, Peter, and I for some drinks at the Three Broomsticks?"
I snorted, and he chuckled at, I suppose, how graceful that was. "No thanks."
He seemed to know the answer before he asked, as he ignored me, and leaned down. I smiled as he shut his eyes, and went to shut mine, too. Until a couple of familiar voices could be heard approaching the portrait hole, from down the corridor. My eyes flew wide, and I decided to peck him on the cheek, before saying the password, and clambering inside of the Common Room.
Just as it swung shut I heard Remus greeting Sirius, and...James greeting him a second later...
It took me a good 20 minutes to get over the feel of Sirius Black that close to me. No, that's a lie. I never got over the feel of him.
It just amazed me how bloody warm he was. So, so warm. His arms around my waist, and his face that close to my own...
The first time he kissed me I hadn't the time to enjoy it properly. It was freezing out, and his lips may have been warm, but he didn't touch me anywhere except for my cheek. It was some incredible realization that boys were warm, and their arms knew where to go around you, and girls are supposed to be shorter than boys, because your head is just level with his chest, and he has to bend down to kiss you properly, bringing you even further into his warmth, and...I was making myself light-headed just thinking of it.
With Sirius...I wanted to talk to him, and get to know him better, but there was this undeniable, bloody attraction, and it just made it hard to think around him. Why was he so handsome? Gorgeous, even? His smile was like it was just for me, and me alone, and his eyes were so innocent, and they danced with light, but...it's like he knew things, and he planned things, and he wanted to say things, but why bother when you had eyes like that?
I obsessed, I know, over small, little, unimportant things. Hell, James called me 'Lil' earlier today, whilst asking whether or not we were friends, and my heart just pounded, and God, it sounded so pretty.
Yes, my point -- I obsess over small things. I need detail. And when a boy is warm, and warm near me, and I don't know, I've just never had a boyfriend before. Sirius was the closest thing I had ever had. James was the closest thing I had ever had. They were...my fucking friends, and they were making me think of them being my fucking boyfriends. Plural. Boyfriends. I couldn't...do that. I couldn't want more with...both of them.
It was 6 o'clock when people were leaving the common room, all bundled up, and looking bright. I was sitting there, in casual clothes, no coat, or gloves, or hat -- I hadn't moved since I sat down, and I didn't feel I could.
"All right," Sirius came to stand in front of the couch I was sitting on, wearing that brown, leather jacket, a pair of gloves, and he was holding a black toque in his hand.
"I will see you later, Lily Evans." I was biting my lip, and smiled the best I could with my teeth still tugging at the dry skin. He frowned at me. "You've gone and made it bleed."
I wiped the small amount of blood off on the back of my hand, and made a face. "I hate how they get dry, and crack in the winter," I murmured, standing up, and then looking to him. "Be good."
He grinned, and put a hand on my cheek, though didn't lean in like I thought he would. "Sorry for...earlier. I felt as if I startled you," I shook my head at this.
"No, I just...James and Remus were coming, and I didn't know if that would be uncomfortable or not." Sirius nodded.
"Yeah, no, I understand. It's ohkay," He kissed his fingertips, and then brushed them along my cheek. Dammit, I wish he would hold me closer again... "You be good, too. 'Ta."
Then he went and joined Remus & Peter in discussing their plans near the portrait hole.
My gaze had hardly pulled away from Sirius when James got up from the table he was sitting at, and came over to the couch. "You wanna go now?" I noted he looked less than ready, as well. Most people that were going had already left.
"Yeah. Sure...I'll go...get changed. Super quickly. I promise." I flashed him a smile, and dashed up the girls staircase -- just catching the two boys glance at each other, and offer tight-lipped smiles, with no eye contact.
Why was this so awful, but so pleasantly enjoyable?
When I came back down to the Common Room, James was just pulling his gloves on, and was wearing his winter coat.
I had put on a pair of dark-rinse jeans, a dark emerald-green turtleneck, and my winter coat. I grabbed my adorable newsboy hat, a pair of gloves, and ran my hands pack through my hair. Quickly putting some lip gloss on.
I loved turtlenecks. Just the...obvious warmth, and coziness they represented. I didn't like ones that nearly choked you, so I was wearing one that had a rather droopy neck.
The common room had few people in it, but him and I were the only 7th years left hanging around.
"Here I am." He looked up from adjusting his gloves, and something...something flickered behind his eyes, and then ignited.
"You look absolutely lovely," He took the hat from my hands, and then put it on my head, still gripping it with both hands, and grinning at me, his eyes sharing with mine.
It was the most surprising thing yet that day. He grinned with his pearly-whites showing, and I had never seen him look more...grown-up, and strong, and aware, but playful, and it was nice.
I couldn't help but grin. "What's gotten into you, mmm?"
"I like your hat." James tugged on it one last time, swung his scarf around his neck, and then strode off towards the portrait hole.
"C'mon."
It was a crisp, clear, night. Around 6:30, and so it wasn't completely dark, but was getting there. It was at that point where there was enough light left to see who was next to you, but it was straining on your eyes. The navy, black, light, thing to the sky. Some people have night blindness, though. I think I'm one of them.
The stars shone so bloody bright tonight, and I walked on the right as we went down the stairs, out into the night.
The path down to the bonfire was lit with torches, and the flames seemed to be the only thing about the night that was moving. The air was so very still, and I found this was something of routine at Hogwarts. For the first few days of December, apparently, every aspect of nature seemed to hold it's breath, and let it ease in.
Everybody seemed to abandon the idea of skating after dark, and I seen the large group of people down by the bonfire.
It was huge, but wasn't roaring, or anything. It crackled nicely, as if it was small fire in a hearth. I loved watching people by firelight, though, and this was just right.
James & I stopped walking near the end of the path, and I looked around the little gathering that was going on. There were three, huge, logs laying in different directions, near the fire, so you could sit on them. A table near Hargid's hut was loaded with mugs -- They were empty, but once you picked them up they would magically fill with whatever you wanted, and keep refilling when you were nearing the bottom.
A pile of blankets was lay at the end of one of the logs, and I seen Professor McGonagall tapping her wand to them, and then turning 'round to head back up the path.
She, of course, ran into us, as we were just standing there.
"Oh. Miss Evans, Mr Potter, good to see you here. The blankets are charmed, and are warm. Wouldn't want anybody getting frostbite. I'm sure you two only need one blanket, though." Her thin lips were set in I guess what she thought was a smile.
I frowned. "One? What do you...Oh." My cheeks burned, and I looked away from the Professor, as James kicked at the snow.
"It's not like that Professor." He said quietly.
She bade us good evening, and was on her way.
I continued walking over to the logs, and crossed my arms, staring at the fire, and feeling it's warmth suddenly engulf me.
"Wow. That's incredible." James muttered, coming to stand next to me, and holding the palms of his hands out near the fire, as if to confirm the heat.
"It is." I breathed deeply, and let my eyes follow the flames upwards, until I saw just the smoke floating towards the sky. "I love the smell of bonfires. Burning wood."
"Oh, me too. Well..." He shrugged, and smiled at me when our eyes met. "I've never actually been to a bonfire of any sorts, but I like the smell of a match burning, so this is just like a match burning times a lot."
I shook my head, laughing quietly. "Sure thing, James."
He shrugged, and looked around at everybody talking, and laughing, and I saw Bridget snapping pictures of Hagrid's cabin, and bit my lip as she saw me. She waved furiously, and came over to where we were, her feet crunching into the snow.
"Eee. Hi. I'm loving this." She grinned at me.
"It is nice, isn't it. It's peaceful, despite the chatter." Bridget, however, wasn't hearing me. She was looking at James with a wide smile on her face, that lit up her pretty features more than the firelight did.
"How about a picture?" She asked, rather excitedly. James raised his eyebrows, and then looked to me, shrugging.
"I s'pose." He grinned, looked back to Bridget, and we just stood there facing the camera.
She lowered the camera from her face, and frowned, though giggled slightly. "Enthusiastic bunch."
I laughed, and put a hand to my face. I just didn't know what to do. I didn't know how James felt about...I dun know! Anything.
"C'mere." James tugged on my gloved hand, and pulled me close. He took one of my hands in his, and then put one of his arms own around my back, holding me to him.
Bridget grinned, and I laughed as James spun me around, half-dancing, half-spinning me. She snapped the picture, and then with a flourish he twirled me one last time, and let me go.
"That was a good one. I'll see you later, all right?"
"See -- you -- Bridget," I said through gasps of laughter. I took a deep breath, and sat down on the log, looking up at James. "You're different tonight, James Potter."
"You're happy tonight, Lily Evans." Touché.
He grinned at me, and I laughed, shaking my head, as Ray -- Bridget's Ravenclaw boyfriend, who played Qudditch, too -- spotted James, and came over and began talking with him.
I got up, and went over to talk to Bridget, who was stuffing her small camera in her coat pocket.
"Hey." She looked at me, and looked serious, or even pensive for a moment.
"He's a good guy, Lily."
It took me by surprise, the impression James and I were giving off.
"He is, yeah." Both of our gazes turned to where the two boys were stood, and I sighed, not tearing my gaze away, though I knew Bridget had.
He just looked so nice, and it almost made me sad. Or wistful. Or happy. It made me so many things. I know I was so, so close to having him exclusively for me. I know that I felt something for Sirius. I know that James would fight me tooth and nail on letting me in. And I was wistful, because I was so jealous of the people in his life who had always known him, and had always been there for him...I wanted to be there so badly.
It was funny, how boys can act like men, and boys can act like, well, boys. They acted like men tonight.
Ray was talking amiably, gesturing with his hands a lot, and James had one of his hands shoved deep into the pocket of his cordroy pants, and the other wasn't in his pocket. He'd rub above his upper lip, and nod, and then flail his hand out to the side when he was making a point, or interrupting, or elaborating, or whatever.
His messy hair shadowed his face in the slightest, but when he'd shake it from his eyes you could see every detail of his face. He had a slight dimple in his left cheek, and when he laughed it protruded more. He had a nice nose, I decided. You see people on television complaining about their awful noses, and then the doctors fix them, but I don't know anybody with an ugly nose like that.
I loved his shoulders. Loved how he shrugged them, loved how he'd crick his neck, and then square his shoulders. I loved how they were broad, and gave the impression of impending power. Because he was strong, and powerful, and sometimes I wished he could hold the whole world -- particularly mine -- in the palm of his hand, because he could make it so right. But yeah, someday we'd see that. His strength.
"Lilllyyy..." I blinked, and looked at Bridget, shaking my head in spite of myself.
"My God, I just...I dunno. That's embarrassing."
"He's your boyfriend, you have every right to stare," She laughed lightly, and rubbed her hands together.
"Oh God, um...You see. No. James & I are just...friends. And I mean that so honestly. We're just...We're just...friends..."
I don't think she said anything. I wasn't sure. She might've. But I was sure she knew to wait until I was looking at her again to say anything to me.
Because I had looked back to James, and he met my gaze. Tilting his head, he gave me a small, yet incredibly handsome, smile, and waved shortly.
I smiled, moved my eyes away for a second, then looked back into his hazel ones, and even though he was stood a good distance away, I could feel how they penetrated me.
I sighed, and slumped down on the nearest log.
"You look at him so differently, though," Bridget sat down next to me, and we huddled close together. This log was closer to the forest, and was in the shadows cast by the tall trees, making it chillier. "Like you admire him with every ounce of you."
"I do." I muttered, though more to myself than to her. I did admire him. Everything about him, and I hated it so, so, so much. For some aspects of James Potter weren't worthy of being admired, but other aspects of him should be written down, and examined carefully, and declared perfect.
The Marauders just...were all something different.
James was a gorgeous, mystery. Sirius was dark, and handsome. Remus was golden, and handsome-pretty.
I hadn't looked away from him for minutes, and I didn't care that he knew I was practically memorizing the way he looked...so enticing, and detailed, and...
I couldn't finish my thoughts, because the next thing I knew he was standing at the end of the log I was sitting on, and tilting his head to look at me. "Let's go get you some hot cocoa. It's what we do. Drink hot cocoa, and sit by fires."
I got up from the log, leaving the shade of the trees, and following after James. We went to the table set up with mugs, and James picked two up, handing me one, and it instantly filled with hot cocoa.
"Mmm," I murmured, in a satisfied sort of way, holding the mug with both of my hands. "Yeah. I love this."
"Me too." James sipped his drink, and held it with one hand, turning to look as someone called his name.
I turned, too, and seen another Gryffindor 7th year coming towards him.
"You're quite popular, Mr Potter." He chuckled for a moment, before greeting the guy -- Dave.
"Heey." Dave said, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and looking around, before looking back to James.
Asked him how his year was going, how his parents were, blah, blah, blah...
I wasn't too concerned of what Dave whats-his-name was saying, because James had put his arm around my shoulders, letting me lean against his side as he talked, and I drank the cocoa.
He was looking at Dave as he did it, and it happened so elegantly, and quickly that I nearly missed it. I was standing next to him, kind of awkwardly, and he seemed to sense that, or something. He looked quickly to me, nodding at something Dave said, and I bit my lip. His arm just seemed to reach out on it's own accord, and go around my shoulders, giving me a gentle tug nearer to his body, and his undeniable, radiating warmth.
It was him...starting to prove that strength. Him draping an arm around me, holding me gently, yet protectively. I could think of nothing else but him, and it sort of worried me.
By the third time James had looked sideways at me, and smiled, Dave grinned slowly, and seemed to spot someone he had been looking for.
"Catch you later, Potter." He clapped him on the back as he walked by, and James's arm was still very much around me, as he just seemed to lead me over closer to the fire by instinct.
"You look absolutely frozen." James said somewhere quite near my hair, and I leaned my head further into his shoulder, as we sat down, and he grabbed a blanket from the diminishing pile at the end of the log.
He wrapped it mostly around me, up to my neck, first taking the half-empty mug from my hands. It fell over his legs, though, and he seemed perfectly comfortable.
"I'm not. I'm warm, honestly." I could hardly speak, though, because with the mixture of cold, awakening air, and the warmth from the fire, and the warmth from the blanket, and the warmth from him -- I was overwhelmed, and dizzy with good feelings.
James said nothing, and I felt one of his hands brush through my hair, as we sat there.
My face was buried away somewhere between his shoulder, and chest, and he smelled so nice. Not overwhelmingly so, but something like fading cologne, and just everything nice about the outdoors. I stared at the fire, and had I been looking at James I would have seen his eyes were still alight with whatever had ignited in them earlier, and he was scanning through the people, though staying with me.
"You are warm." He said to me eventually, his lips I could feel pressed against my hair at the top of my head as he spoke.
"Only because you are." A yawn was threatening, but dammit, I just wanted to sit here.
"Heh." I could feel him smile, and he shifted his arm around me, running his gloved fingers up and down my upper arm.
More people had began to sit down on the logs, and I snuggled closer to James, meeting Bridget's eyes briefly, and exchanging a grin.
"I usually hate any sort of gathering with a passion, but,-" I interrupted him, and finished for him.
"You're different tonight."
"That I am," He sighed, and craned his neck so he could look upwards. "Yeah."
I gazed up at him as he looked back down, and I seen everything about that night reflected in his eyes. He was right. I was happy. And the sky was so bright.
"When's your birthday, James?" I noticed my voice had gotten rough, or something, and I cleared my throat, picking my mug back up from the ground with one hand, and taking a sip.
"My birthday?" He raised his eyebrows, and seemed to contemplate it, as if he had forgotten. I didn't expect him to tell me. "December 21st."
There was something about him...just telling me his birthday. I had asked before. I had assumed him to tell me before, around the time that it was my birthday, but he hadn't.
But I asked tonight -- when I was happy, and he was different -- and he told me, and it was different. Tonight was different altogether. James was making me dizzy with good feelings, and Sirius was acting all romanticly-involved with me, and Bridget...Bridget could be my friend, maybe...
I fell asleep leaning against his shoulder after ages, and ages of just sitting there and listening to him talk to guys, and sometimes me, and listen to rather tipsy-sounding girls sing songs, and eventually I yawned so loudly he looked me oddly, and asked if he was boring me. I half-laughed, and just shook my head, whispering something of how he made everything so warm it drove me insane with drowsiness...And I shut my eyes, breathing him in, and just being calmed so much that I dozed off.
I briefly remembered waking up, and stumbling up the path to the castle, with him holding on to me tightly, murmuring something I can't quite recall, but it was sweet...
We had gone up to floors, and as we approached a third staircase I moaned something about wanting to sit down and rest. James had enough of seeing how helples I was, I guess, because he sighed, grinned at me, and lifted me into his arms. And I fell back to sleep again.
12:21. His alarm clock wasn't digital, but the numbers, and the hands glowed in the dark, so I could tell the time from where I was laying. 12:21. The hangings were open, and the clock set on the night table, and it was 12:21, and James's birthday was December 21st. 12/21.
Then it became apparent to me. James's clock. James's clocks hands glowed in the dark. James's hangings were open...
James's bed.
I blinked roughly, and let my eyes adjust to the dark, seeking out Mr Potter himself.
"James," I said croakily, seeing his head resting on the end bed, and his arms sprawled out on it, as well. "Wake up, James." I nudged him with my foot, and he bolted up, rubbing his eyes, and adjusting his glasses.
I lay back down, pulling the comforter up to my neck, and thoroughly enjoying the fact that James's pillow smelled so fucking good.
I could faintly see him smiling at me, as he crawled towards the top of the bed. He rested his head on the bed again, and I moved my face closer to his, smiling, and holding onto the covers with both of my hands.
"Hi." I whispered, smiling at him, and loving just how close his face was. I could see everything about him, and I wouldn't mind sleeping next to this every night.
"Hi." He whispered back, smiling too, and rubbing his thumb along my cheek. "Sleep well, mmm?"
"Oh," I squeezed my eyes shut, and shook my head the best I could. "Sorry."
"Not at all. I had a good time. Thank you," I smiled as he said this, but it was one of those sad, you-dont-need-to-thank-me ones. Almost a sad, or sincere one. "It was good to see you hanging out with Bridget. I worry about you, Lily Evans."
That struck a chord with me. He worried about me, and I just positively wanted to burst into tears, but all the same, it was sweet.
I yawned, and turned my face away from his, laying on my back, realizing I was rather acting posessive of his bed."Bridget, She's nice. Really pretty. I'm absolutely jealous."
We both heard the knob of the door turning, as if somebody was struggling in the dark to turn it the right way. It would be the other three Marauders. I wasn't really concerned of what they'd think. James was incredible tonight, and the sky and everything had been in his hazel-green eyes, and I hadn't kissed Sirius properly that day, and I realized I hadn't actually looked at James's lips. Oh fuck, I bet they were wonderful, wonderful...
"You have no reason to be jealous. You're beautiful."
And he had said it. The door opened, and...James thought I was beautiful, as Sirius, first, came in...
abc.
