Normality
On Sunday morning, Lily found herself on the Quidditch pitch for the second time in as many days. After wishing Emily good luck she climbed the stands once more, settling for a spot not quite as high where she would have a better view. Surveying the chaos on the pitch and deciding the actual tryouts probably hadn't started yet she got out her History of Magic book and started to read. She didn't get very far however, before the quiet was brutally shattered by a far too familiar voice.
"Well, Evans, you're turning into quite the Quidditch fanatic aren't you?"
Lily had to suppress a groan as the black haired boy sat down next to her. With hundreds of seats, did he really have to choose the one right next to her?
Potter ignored the less than friendly greeting. "You know," he said, leaning towards her with a smirk, "I'd be happy to teach you about Quidditch. Private lessons, what do you say?"
Grimacing, Lily quickly moved one seat away from him. "No, thank you," she pressed between gritted teeth, her eyes still fixed on her book even though she didn't take in a word of it. "And would you please stop following me?"
Potter laughed. "Hate to disappoint you, darling, but I'm not actually here because of you. Wanted to take a look at Teak's new team."
Only her love for her history book kept Lily from bashing Potter over the head with hit. "Great. Can't you do that somewhere else?"
Potter shrugged, leaning back in his seat with a complacent smirk and spreading his arms on the back rests. "Nah," he said, amusement glinting in his dark eyes as he watched her.
Lily rolled her eyes and moved another two places away from him. At least Potter was back to normal. That's what she had wanted, wasn't it?
For a while, merciful silence hung between them. Then, after about ten minutes: "I really don't want to interrupt your fantasizing about Binns, but aren't you here to see Emily?"
Lily jumped, her eyes flying towards the Quidditch field. Snap. They tryouts had indeed started without her noticing. She quickly put down her book and tried to understand what was going on. She failed.
There were much more people in the air than on Saturday, and she couldn't even make out who was playing which position. At some point she spotted Emily, but her friend wasn't even carrying a bat. Little as she understood Quidditch, Lily was relatively sure that beaters needed a bat.
Suddenly Potter was sitting next to her once more. "Want me to explain?" Mischief glinted in his hazel eyes.
Lily pressed her lips together. Emily would be awfully hurt when she realized that her friend hadn't even paid attention. Swallowing her pride, she forced herself to nod. "Yes, please." Struggling to keep her tone polite she tried to murder Potter with stares instead, which sadly failed.
His smirk grew. "Such enthusiasm..." He chuckled before turning back towards the pitch. "They're just warming up now, but using all the balls," he began, "Teak wants to see how they can cope with unexpected bludgers, and if they can manage unfamiliar situations. I tried that too last year, but it's too chaotic. She has no chance of watching everybody. See, that's her signal. Now she'll send off the first batch – the ones that really have no business being on a broom in the first place. Doubt Emily will get kicked out, she flew quite well. And then-"
Much to Lily's surprise, Potter was actually taking his part seriously. There were no suggestive remarks, no lewd glances. His commentary was quiet and alert; he patiently answered her questions, and generally seemed to have banned anything but Quidditch from his mind.
The second Teak's feet touched the ground, however, his grin was back. "So? Reckon you owe me something now? How about a stroll to the Three Broomsticks tonight to thank me for my phenomenal help?"
Lily snorted, getting up without looking at him. "Why don't you take your broomstick instead, Potter?" She quickly stepped past him and made her way down the stands and over to the changing rooms to congratulate Emily, who had actually made the team.
Her annoyance at Potter didn't even last until she had descended the stairs, however. She was far too relieved he was actually acting like himself again. And somehow, she had missed there bickering, hadn't she?
And really, as if a switch had been flicked, things returned to normal. Potter chased after her, Lily rolled her eyes. He made suggestive comments, she snapped at him. He asked her to go out with her and she put him down. They were squabbling during lessons and meals, and even fought in the common room occasionally.
And yet, something had changed. The bitter resentment that she had felt towards him those past years had gone. Of course he still annoyed her to no end, and she wished he'd stop running after her. But the cold arrogance that had made him so repulsive before seemed to have vanished, as if the strangely friendly Potter who had haunted the halls that first week had taken it with him when he had left. The Potter who stayed behind didn't hex people randomly – or rather, Lily didn't catch him doing so – and even his malicious comments towards anybody who got in his way grew sparser.
He was annoying, childish and dreadfully full of himself. And still Lily caught herself grinning at one of his stupid comments once or twice. Somehow, though whichever strange magic, Potter had become bearable.
"What!? The trip is tomorrow! You can't not know what you'll be wearing!"
Lily struggled to supress a sigh. It was Friday night and Val had fully entered date-mode. "I dunno. I'll just figure it out tomorrow morning," she muttered without looking up from her book, hoping against all reason to salvage her peaceful night of reading.
"Lily! You need to think about these things! Come on, Skirt or trousers? Or a dress, maybe?"
Lily frowned, finally raising her head to look at the window, where thick droplets of rain were hammering against the thin glass. It had been stormy all day and the temperatures had plummeted so quickly as if the weather had decided to simply skip autumn and go straight to winter.
Yes. A dress would definitely be the right choice.
"Err...trousers?"
"Which ones?"
"Just...jeans?"
She could almost physically sense Val's disapproval. For a few seconds her friend surveyed her sceptically, and Lily almost expected her to object, but finally Val nodded. "Boring, but okay. You'll just have to bring in some colour with the top. We need something that doesn't clash with your hair – come to think of it, your hair! What're you gonna do with it?"
Lily groaned, shutting her book with a snap. There had never been much hope for reading in the first place.
The rest of the night, Lily spent as Val's personal mannequin. Having quickly ruled that Lily did not possess any date-appropriate tops, her friend had gone over to the contents of her own, far more voluminous wardrobe. Lily had tried to protest at first but quickly recognized the fruitlessness of it and decided to just go with it. After all, it was rather fun to see Val so enthusiastically in her element, and it had been quite a while since Lily had been on a date herself.
Billy Cornfoot.
She still wasn't sure if the whole thing was a good idea. Sure, Billy was nice, and she enjoyed having him in History of Magic with her. But that was it, really. Shouldn't there be at least a little bit of excitement? She glanced over to Val who was just doing something indiscernible – and hopefully reversible – to Lily's hair. Her blue eyes were shining so brightly as if someone had cast a Lumos spell on them.
Yes. That's what it's supposed to be like.
All Lily felt was slight apprehension at the idea of spending a whole afternoon on her own with Billy. The more thankful she was for Val's double date idea. Val knew what she was doing. Granted, pretty much all of her relationships had ended in disaster, but when it came to first dates the blonde Gryffindor was undeniably an expert.
Almost on their own accord Lily's thoughts wandered over to Potter. All night he had been sitting in front of the fire, staring at it with a thunderous expression, evidently highly disgruntled. Surely he wouldn't do something idiotic?
During the last week he'd visibly stiffened whenever Val or anybody else mentioned the trip to Hogsmeade, and his eyes had always shot over to Lily. She remembered the last autumn, when she had briefly gone out with Isaac Bones. Somehow, during the few short weeks they had been dating, the poor Ravenclaw had ended up in the hospital wing no less than three times. She had never managed to prove it, obviously, but she was relatively certain that it was Potter who was responsible.
But he had changed... Hadn't he?
On Friday evening, James did not feel particularly cheerful. He was sitting in the common room with Sirius and Peter, barely listening to Sirius' enthusiastic tale about the awesome muggle music he had been introduced to in Muggle studies. Despite his best efforts, James' gaze kept wandering over to where Lily and her friend sat, chatting excitedly about tomorrow's Hogsmeade trip.
The Date.
James still couldn't believe Lily would actually go out with Cornfoot. Cornfoot! The guy was scrawny and pale and his mousy brown her somehow always looked a little dusty. And he wasn't even a good student, quite the contrary actually. James knew of at least three OWL exams the Hufflepuff had failed, Defence and Transfiguration among them. So what in Godric's name did Lily see in him? Was him sitting in History of Magic with her all it took?
In fact, James had berated himself time and time again for making such a joke of his History OWL. He'd known it was Lily's favourite subject. It should've been obvious she'd continue with it. And that the Newt course would be blissfully empty, allowing him lots of time with her. And he had simply passed on this opportunity, all so he could get one over Sirius in their stupid let's-see-who-can-fail-the-most-subjects- contest.
Baker had jumped to her feet now, and proceeded to drag Lily with her towards the dormitories. Probably to make look nice for her date tomorrow. For Cornfoot. James gritted his teeth. Not for the first time this night he considered getting his invisibility cloak and sneaking into the Hufflepuff common room to hex the twat. Something painful, something lasting... which was exactly what Remus had warned him of. What last year's James would have done. The James who Lily hated with all her heart.
So he simply sighed, picking up Remus' discarded Prophet and half-heartedly started to read it.
Werewolf attack in South Wales.
Family missing in Kent.
Spy uncovered in the Department of Magical Law enforcement, sent to Azkaban.
He threw the paper down again, not needing a reminder of how bad things were getting out there. All summer he'd witnessed how anxious his parents were, and more than once he had caught his father talking to old friends from the Auror bureau through the fireplace, or leaving late at night to "go for a drink" with one friend or the other. Even in the letter his mother had sent this week James had sensed the fear, although she never wrote anything explicit.
Without him quite realizing it, his thoughts wandered back to Lily. He knew she was worried about her parents. Was she right to? Maybe his parents could put some protective wards on the Evans' house? He would have to ask Lily, but how? Her hatred for him seemed to have died down, but as she had said herself, they were far from being friends. Would she suspect him of having an ulterior motive? Expecting something in return?
He was already halfway on his way to get ink and parchment to write to his parents when Sirius fell silent, casting a quick glance around them and getting to his feet. "Shall we? It's dark already."
James flinched. Full moon. For a few minutes, he'd actually forgotten about Remus completely, too caught up in his musing about Lily and her family. Well, they would have to wait.
"Merlin I missed this," Sirius yawned hours later when they were slowly making their way back through the castle. His sleeve was torn and there was a large scratch on his arm but he didn't seem to take notice. James was limping himself, and even Peter, whose tiny animagus form usually kept him out of harm's way when they were struggling to keep Moony under control, was clutching his hand with a rather pained expression.
During the holidays they hadn't been able to join Remus during the full moon, and apparently those "wild" transformations had not made the werewolf any gentler or more peaceful. It had taken them almost an hour to calm him down enough so he wouldn't attack them, and they hadn't dared leaving the Shrieking Shack at all.
"Well, Moony didn't seem to have missed us much, did he?" Peter muttered, pressing his handkerchief more firmly against his hand as blood began to soak through it.
Sirius shrugged. "Nah, that's just his way of showing affection. The deeper the wound, the deeper his love."
"You sound like Hagrid," James commented, before breaking into a huge yawn. It was half past four already. "Dammit. If I want to keep an eye on Evans tomorrow-"
Sirius groaned. "You're kidding, right? What are you, twelve?"
"Hey! What would you do if the love of your life was going on a date with the first bellend who asked her?"
His friend made a vomiting sound and turned away. "Firstly, yuck. Secondly, I'm a man not a girl. I don't do any of that true love-rubbish anyway. And thirdly: I would do whatever Moony told me to. And he might not be capable of speech tonight, but I think I can speak for him when I tell you that covertly spying on her is not part of it." He shook his head, laughing incredulously. "Just think what Evans would say if she caught you...You're true love wouldn't be worth shit. Lacewing – oh, get a grip, lady." He stepped through the portrait hole, shaking his head at the Fat Lady's ranting at being woken up. "You'd have thought she'd gotten used to it by now."
James followed him, barely listening to the – rather tired – lecture about proper student conduct. "I guess you're right."
"Thank you," Sirius grinned smugly, giving a little mock bow before climbing up the stairs to the dormitory.
Before Peter could follow the older boy, James stopped him. "Wormtail, I've got an important mission for you: Follow Evans tomorrow."
Peter stared at him, his tired eyes opening wide in shock. "But Rem-"
"Remus is in the hospital wing. So get your arse to Hogsmeade tomorrow, alright? If you do a good job there's another Transfiguration essay in it for you." Without waiting for the other boy's reply – he didn't need to, really, he knew how desperate Peter's homework situation was – James sprinted after Sirius.
At least this way he'd get to sleep in.
