A/N: So, I'm back. And here is the long awaited seventh chapter. You have to say, I did post quickly this time: there was no seven month wait. I still feel so bad about that. I want to thank all the great, fantastic people that had the generosity to review my sixth chapter even though I took so long to update. I love you guys. So, without much ado, I give you this chapter (which, I might say, you are going to like.).
Disclaimer: I invented Harry Potter. J. K Rowling copied my idea. Don't you love dreams?
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Chapter VII: As I Dreamt of a Stag
Ugh.
I feel like I fell off a twelve story building and was then squashed unceremoniously by an African elephant.
Which is probably what happened.
No, wait…I fell off a hippogriff.
…onto Potter's broom.
A lot worse.
I sat up instantly, taking in my surroundings. There was the window, with the full moon shining through. There was the bedside table with the many repulsive, but extremely useful, potions. And there was me, under the white sheets of the bed. The hospital wing.
There should have definitely been a round of applause at my amazing observation skills, but I could only hear someone's snores.
Throwing off my covers I got out of my bed and went to the window. I felt perfectly fine; no need for me to be in the hospital wing. I just needed a little stroll around the whipping willow. And maybe afterwards I could go to the prefects' bathroom and have a bath with bubbles and stuff. I bet you that there is no one there right now, since the clock on the wall says it's nearly one in the morning. I opened the window, making sure to do so very quietly as to not wake anyone up: I wouldn't want to explain to Madame Palfrey that I was opening the window so that I could jump out and have a stroll around a killer tree. That is what you call a potentially awkward conversation. So, once I had opened the window with extreme caution and cheeked that no one had woken up I carefully jumped off. I should have looked at how far away the floor was before I jumped, because when I landed it really hurt.
After letting out a few…um…creative words into the night air to disperse my pain, I began to stroll around. I must have looked so comical. Can you imagine: me, strolling around barefoot with one of those white nightgowns that you are forced to wear in the hospital wing.
Hilarious.
Though I felt like I really shouldn't be near the sleeping willow right now. I really don't know why: the full moon was so pretty up there in the sky. A beautiful silver color that attracted me like a mosquito is attracted to those fluorescent lights. Though I still felt uncomfortable. I don't know how to describe it, but I felt something was a little off. Like there was something really important I should remember.
MY SOCKS!
I left my socks in the perfect bathroom! Shoot. No wonder something felt a little off. More like a lot off. I really liked those socks. White with blue polka dots. And green stripes. I have to remember to buy another pair like those.
I froze in my tracks. There, illuminated by the moonlight stood a majestic stag, his great antlers creating beautiful shadows in the soft grass.
The moon always seemed to make me feel poetic.
The stag was frozen in place as well, its face staring at me. Poor animal, I must have sacred it with my white hospital gown and my deep red hair a complete mess. But the stag was just so beautiful in the moonlight that I couldn't help but want to run my hand down its smooth fur. However, I have to admit that I am extremely scary, so, as to not frighten away the stag, I put out my hand in a peaceful gesture.
"Shhh, I don't want to hurt you," I called to it softly, inching forward ever so slowly.
The stag was still frozen in its tracks. I took the opportunity to advance a bit more.
"Please don't run, I only want to see you. I promise I won't hurt you," I kept on saying.
Finally I reached the stag. It was so big. If I had known before I would have stayed where I was. But it was just so majestic that once more I couldn't stop myself from trying to touch it. The stag, however, had different ideas, and at my movement seemed to be startled out of its trance. It moved back its head, avoiding my hand.
I hushed it softly, "Don't be afraid of me, I promised I wouldn't hurt you."
The stag peered at me through his large hazel eyes. Those eyes. Something clicked in the back of my mind, but I didn't know what. I was just too stunned to speak: the stag had moved forward just a bit, his face right up to mine. Amazingly, I wasn't afraid. Those eyes were just so human. Gently, without breaking eye contact with the animal I reached out and softly petted its nose.
The stag blinked and tensed under my hand. But it didn't move.
I smiled, "You're so soft."
The stag blinked once more. Then, suddenly, it pushed me away with its head, pushing me towards the castle. I frowned. I didn't want to go inside. In fact, I wanted to spend the entire night outside, under the stunning gaze of the full moon.
"Stop it," I ordered the stag firmly.
Unfortunately I seem to attract disobeying animals and the stag continued to push me towards the castle.
"Stop it! I don't want to go to the castle!" I tried once more, this time pushing back.
Stupid stag, he just kept on pushing me, like if I had been a mute.
"I said: STOP IT!"
Thought I am the Queen of Self Control, as I have undoubtedly told you, I must excuse myself: it was late at night and I was not in a mood to stand being pushed around - literally. But the stag continued to push me. So I did the most sensible thing I could think of: I sat down. Ha! Now how is the stag doing to move me? I am just so smart.
"There. I am staying here all night, and that's that. When I want to move, I'll move. I don't need your help with that, thank you very much, but I think I can manage a thirty second walk." I clarified.
The stag seemed stunned. It turned around and looked all around us, as if it was looking for something. Then, as if it was not satisfied, he plopped down next to me.
"Comfortable?" I asked the stag conversationally.
The stag nodded.
And I tried to do my best not to scream.
I mean, how many times have you asked a stag if it was comfortable and it nodded?
I bet not that many.
"You can understand me?" I stuttered. Thoughts of assassins disguised as stags didn't help.
The stag stared at me through those hazel eyes. It didn't nod. It didn't shake its head. It just stared. Like a stag should.
I let out a sigh of relief, "Oh, good. For a second there I though you nodded. And, trust me, that was really scary."
The stag just stared some more. Which was kind of disconcerting. It reminded me of Potter's stare. Potter.
"AAGGGHHH," I screamed, trying to release all the tension inside me.
The stag flinched startled. I immediately petted it softly. Not because I cared about the pushy stag, but because it was really nice to have a warm animal that could frighten other potentially scary animals away near.
"Don't worry, I was just screaming to relax myself," I explained.
The stag stared at me warily, if that is even possible.
I laughed a bit, poor stag, it just didn't know what it was like to have Potter around. He could drive anyone insane in a matter of seconds, really.
"I get tense easily, I'm sorry. It's just, you see, there is this really, really, really," I searched for the right word to describe Potter, "arrogant guy in my year."
The stag suddenly seemed very interested in the conversation. Amazing how human a stag can be. Just as well: I felt like talking anyways.
"His name is James Potter. And I hate him," I established the basics.
The stag looked at the ground for a second before giving me again his full attention.
"Well, actually, I don't know if I hate him."
There. I said it. Those words I had been holding inside me all week since school began.
"I am so confused," I grimaced, "I have hated him for so long! But he's just…I…I don't know how to describe it. I mean, consider this: I am almost seventeen and I still haven't even been kissed! Not that I regard that moment as the culmination of my life; far from it. But I just want to know what it feels like to be kissed. Everyone I know has already had their first kiss, but I haven't. Am I really that undesirable, that ugly?"
The stag, of course, like the nice normal stag he is, didn't say anything. But he nudged me gently with his nose, as if trying to comfort me. Maybe animals can smell your emotions. I have to go try and ride a horse again.
"I know that I'm not ugly. I mean, well, I have a really high self-esteem: what people say doesn't hurt me! But…I just, I just want to feel loved. Inside I am a hopeless romantic, you see. I can just imagine my first kiss, in the middle of a forest glen, with the stars above and the full moon. Sigh. But of course, enter Potter. If I don't agree to go out with James, another prank of his no doubt, I can't go out with anyone. James is immature, egotistical, vain, pompous, self-centered, arrogant and handsome."
I can't believe I just admitted to myself that I find James handsome. I am such an idiot. The stag seemed shocked too. This stag must have a really good emotion sensor.
"So he's handsome. But that does not mean that I like him in absolutely anyway what so ever. He dyed my hair pink in second year, and dumped a bucket of stinking sap on me in first year. Clearly immature. Though that was a long time ago. AAarrgh. I just don't know what to think! He lies to me! He told me he loved me!"
I laughed a bittersweet laugh.
"Now, you have to understand that there is no possible way on this earth that The James Potter, leader of the Marauders, and Captain of the Quidditch team can be in love with plain, nerdy Lily Evans. It's just not possible. If he loves someone it will be a popular, beautiful girl. Not me. And it really hurts me when he says he loves me. Because no one has ever told me that sincerely. And I really wish someone would."
I leaned my head on the stag, relaxing into its soft fur.
"James is such an enigma. And I owe him my life. He saved me today."
The stag looked at me curiously.
"I'm deadly afraid of heights. You see, when I was five years old my older sister pushed me off the roof of our house. I fell all the way down and broke my arm and my leg. Since then I can't stand heights. In Care of Magical Creatures, our teacher: a huge oaf of a man named Oof, forced me to ride a hippogriff. Hippogriffs fly. So, I freaked out in the air and fell. I probably would have died if James had not saved me. It was really nice and mature of him to save my life. The James that dyed my hair pink wouldn't have been able to think fast enough to save me. So I don't know what to think. He's changed a lot, yet he's still the same. And now I can't even say that I hate him. I may even like him. And that mere thought shocks me."
The stag seemed to agree with me.
"He's a great flyer, you know. The best Quidditch player ever to play at Hogwarts they say. He's also extremely intelligent, though I would never admit that to his face in a million years. He's the only person in our year, with the exception of Remus, that can challenge me in my studies. And he does absolutely nothing. I study for hours and he just laughs with his friends and gets a ten. He's funny as well. I always find his jokes hilarious, but I can't laugh, because I can't give him any sign that I am listening to him."
I felt my eyelids begin to close with sleep.
"You must think me such an idiot, which I must be to be found talking to a stag at two in the morning outside, in September. But you don't know my worse feat yet. I happened to ask a bloody idiot to the ball. I just can't concentrate when James is near! So I asked Severus Snape to the ball. The dirty little slime ball. I hate his bloody guts. I feel so horrible. I don't want to go with Snape to the ball! But I can't just not go: I have to follow through with my actions. But I don't want to go with Snape. I don't know who I want to go with. I don't want to go with Remus, I don't want to go with Black, I don't want to with Snape. I want to go with James."
I froze. What? What did I just say? I must be moonstruck. I can't possibly have said that I want to go the ball with James.
"I'm losing it. I'm sorry, but I am just going slowly insane. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I HATE James Potter. Well…maybe not hate. AARRRGHH. I can't think anymore! I don't know who I hate, who I want to go to the ball with, I don't even know what's going on in my mind!"
I collapsed, exhausted, and slightly tired of living.
"I want to go home," I said, resigned.
The stag nudged me gently with his nose, as if trying to tell me that everything would be okay.
"I'm so tired. And I want a nice warm bath with bubbles."
I set myself comfortably on the stag, leaning my head into his warm fur.
"I think I'm going to go to sleep, I hope that's alright with you."
I looked up at the stag and smiled.
"You have beautiful eyes, James," I murmured just before I fell asleep.
o o o
Hint: Waking up in the Hospital Wing would be a normal occurrence. Too bad we are at Hogwarts and normal there is not exactly what we perceive it to be.
A/N: So, did anyone not guess who the stag was? The stag, if I may add, that was wandering around the whipping willow under the full moon. I know; it was a short chapter. But I felt that I needed to have a little Lily-confesses-everything-because-she-is-slightly-knocked-up-in-the-head-and-really-tired chapter. Just to watch how she's progressing. And what she isn't admitting to herself. ;) Well, like always: a few reviews won't hurt you, and they'll make me really happy. So, let's see if we can go over a hundred, okay? Have an amazing August!
