A/N: Gor, I'm very sorry it's been so long since I've updated! Thanks for all of the reviews—they were lovely. I realized that I don't really like chapter seven that much because there are bits that are inconsistent and plot lines that will, alas, never be developed. So, I hope you like this chapter, which is actually part one of two (and it's rather long, so you can imagine the two parts as one!). Click that little review button if the feeling's got a hold of you!
Disclaimer: Most assuredly not mine.
Chapter Eight: In the Locker Room"But are you sure you want to go, Alice?" Lily asked, with what she hoped was a voice lacking desperation. "Because if you want, we can go right back to the common room and sit in front of the fire with a nice essay or something…"
Alice, descending the wide stairs in the front of the Hogwarts castle, looked cross.
"I told you, Lily, that it is nothing to me who's there, so long as Frank is. James is nothing to me."
Lily was very relived to hear this. Alice, over the past two days, had talked of nothing but Frank Longbottom, exclaiming how wonderful he was, how nice he was, how good looking, how talented, and so on. However, Lily had her suspicions that Alice was not completely over her infatuation with James Potter—the biggest prat in Hogwarts.
"Because we can still give our excuses, you know," she said in a low voice. The two girls trailed after Frank, Potter, Lupin, Black, and Peter Pettigrew as they headed off toward the quidditch pitch in the gray, Sunday morning air. "We can say that I'm not feeling well, and turn right around for the dormitory."
Alice cast her friend a disparaging look over her shoulder. She had been, ever since the incident in the library, watching Lily like a goshawk watched a field mouse. Alice couldn't be over James Potter just like that—she must be waiting to tell Lily all about her feelings of being torn between Potter and Frank.
Or so Lily thought, until her friend's next words hit her like a slap in the face.
"If you ask me, Lily," Alice said sourly, "you're the one who seems to have a problem with watching the boys practice quidditch this morning."
Lily, quite taken aback, retorted, "Alice, thank you very much, but I couldn't possibly have a problem with watching a few silly boys on brooms. It's you I'm worried about. Besides, you were practically declaring your desire to have dozens of messy black haired children with Potter only days before."
"I'm not half as in love with James Potter as you are, Lily," said Alice snidely. "Anyone who hates someone as much as you hate James can only be in love with him. In fact, I think Amos had it wrong—it's not James who's keen on you, it's you who's keen on him!"
"You take that back!" Lily shouted indignantly, drawing the attention of the five boys ahead of them.
"I won't."
"You most certainly will, Alice Payne, or I shall… I shall… Well you'll get something nasty, you can be assured of that," exclaimed Lily.
Really, Alice thought she had everything figured out, but it wasn't she who had earned the title of 'Miss Brainiac'. As much as Lily hated Potter, the nickname he had given her had begun to stick. Lily even liked to think of it as a term of endearment—an annoying one, but one nevertheless.
Alice huffed to herself and then jogged off to join Frank Longbottom as he trotted toward the pitch, his broom slung over one shoulder, and the box of quidditch balls in his free hand.
"You shouldn't squabble like that, Miss Braniac."
Lily rolled her eyes at James Potter as he, Lupin, and Black hung back to walk with her. She didn't even know why she had agreed to come! Sure, Alice had pleaded that she couldn't be the only one sitting up in the stands watching, but Lily had to have some sort of dignity to preserve! Besides, it wasn't like there were not already gaggles of girls in the stands just dying to get an ogle at three of the best looking boys in Hogwarts.
"Yeah, Lily, it's not ladylike," said Sirius Black, grinning devilishly. "Besides, I think she has a point."
Lily gulped and wondered just how much Sirius had heard.
"It's not my fault she was casting aspirations on my character!" Lily hissed to Black so that the others wouldn't be able to hear.
"Correct aspirations," Black whispered back.
"Correct? I beg your pardon, but what do you call accusing someone of going out with one boy and…and…well?" Stuttered Lily in the lowest voice she could manage.
Sirius laughed shrewdly and replied loudly, "I call her by her name, Lily Evans!"
Lily let out a screech of annoyance as Sirius tore off in the direction of Frank, Alice, Peter, and the quidditch pitch, laughing raucously and waving his broom around the whole way.
"What was that all about, Lily?" Asked Remus Lupin, coming up to her side and glancing sidelong at her, as if afraid that she still had not forgiven him completely for his comments in Saturday Detention a few weeks back, which, in all honesty, she hadn't.
"Nothing. It was nothing. Mind your business, Remus."
Remus nodded and looked as if he wanted to say something to her. However, he just turned his head and said cheerfully, "Let's go, Peter—we don't want Sirius to be mauled by that group of fan girls down there."
Peter nodded and hurried after Lupin. "Looks like they're drooling, don't it?"
Lily laughed and watched them gallop down to the quidditch pitch, where dark masses of Hogwarts-robed girls were dashing over to the figure that was Sirius Black. The boys, Lily noted, were much more fun than she had believed. She wondered just what made them friends with such an unpleasant young man like James Potter.
That individual now hung a ways behind Lily, looking very content with himself indeed. And why shouldn't he? Clearly he was well pleased with the fact that Lily had been goaded into coming on this little jaunt—a jaunt that was, for all intents and purposes, perfect for Potter to show her how very wrong she had been in her low estimation of him.
Weren't his friends pleasant, good-natured, and fun? Hadn't he refrained from saying a rude remark for the whole morning: From the moment he sat down across from her, digging in to his black pudding, to when he commented on the weather as they headed out of the Great Hall, casting a last look at the ceiling to gauge the conditions.
As if, simply because Potter had decent mates and acceptable dining habits, his opinion of Amos's character ought to be trusted! How rich!
It was true, though, that James Potter's suggestions of Amos and his friends were not completely unfounded. Amos was not so illustrious as Lily had perhaps thought. And his friends were not agreeable in the least!
The mere thought of Apollodorus Smith sent Lily into fits of rage. She had realized, only moments after the bookshelves tumbled that fateful night that she had been set up by Smith. No simple stunning spell could force all of those shelves to fall. Smith must have shot some sort of spell at the same time Lily had—one that was far more powerful than hers.
Oh, of course it didn't really matter in the end, for Dumbledore had restored the library within an hour to its original condition. Madam Pince, who had not, despite Lily's insistence, been let go, was now back to prowling the aisles for wayward students. Every time the woman saw Lily she made a wide berth around her and said nothing.
But it was the principle behind the matter. Lily had been paraded around by Amos simply because she could help his odd friends do their homework. She had been horribly embarrassed in front of James Potter and his mates because of that preposterous challenge by Smith. And that challenge…well it was all to gauge how alert Lily was, wasn't it?
It was a test she was afraid she had failed horrendously at. In the past few days, Lily had been completely dense. She had failed to notice that her new boyfriend had more secrets than a third-year girl's diary had! She had failed to notice that his friends were up to something, and while she wasn't sure what, rest assured that she would find out.
And while she would never admit it aloud, she had to grant it to Potter—it seemed as if his warnings were feasible.
Really, Lily thought, it's a good thing that I don't fancy Potter! I wouldn't be a very good girlfriend, would I? He already gets top marks in all of his classes, and he already knows whom the troublemakers are. Why, I bet he even knows the identity of those Marauder chaps we're always warned about. I feel sorry for those who do go out with him! They'll have a very dull time of trying to show him something he doesn't know!
Lily turned to glance over her shoulder at the young man. He was still walking several paces behind her, staring out across the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, black hair blowing into his face, and highly polished broom set onto his shoulder. His eyes were squinting behind their wire-rimmed spectacles, as if he was mulling over some new idea.
Lily turned away. They had all finally reached the quidditch pitch. Black was waving to several girls in the stands, after, it seemed, he and Lupin and Pettigrew had restored order. Frank was kneeling in the grass, pointing out the different quidditch balls to her, for Alice had never been a big quidditch aficionado.
When Lily and James approached, Frank turned and, grinning, said, "Lily, are you going to try your hand at flying like Alice here is? We could have a sort of tournament!"
Lily glared, "I most certainly am not. I think the whole school remembers the one and only time I got on a broom. I've still got those scars to show for it you know!"
"Yes, Lily, they are indeed your red badges," said Alice, not really listening to her as she studied the little golden snitch Frank held out to her.
"Well, we'll need one broom for Alice, one for Lupin, and one for Peter, who say they'll give it a go as well," said Frank. "James, Lily, would you two mind going to the storage room in the lockers and getting those extra brooms?"
Lily glared. She did not like going into any closed space with James Potter alone. Before she heard Potter answer, she turned on her heal and headed off toward the locker rooms, where extra brooms were kept for students to check out on occasion.
The lockers were brightly lit, and oddly bare, as no house colors were draped from the ceiling in honor of a game. The gray walls were shiny, as water seemed onto them, giving the room an odd, earthy smell. Wooden benches lined the middle of the room, and a door on the far end led to the other team's locker rooms. Along one of the walls, beneath some high-set slotted windows, was a large cupboard that held the brooms.
Lily had only been here once before, when the Flying coach sent her to get another broom after she wrecked the first one. It was on this second broom that Lily had acquired her 'red badges'. Lily headed towards the cupboard, and as she was pulling out a broom, heard James Potter enter the locker room.
"You take two, Potter, and I'll grab the one, yeah?" Said Lily, not looking at him.
To her irritation, James Potter did not even approach the cupboard—he was probably afraid that Lily had cursed one of the brooms to whack him about the head. Actually, it wasn't a bad idea…
James closed the door behind him and sat down on one of the benches.
"I haven't got the motivation to stun you at the moment, you know," Lily informed him dryly.
"No," said Potter, the tiniest of smiles playing on his lips, "I don't suppose you have. Although I could attribute that to the fact that there are no offending bookshelves in here."
Lily snorted. "It wasn't the bookshelves that were offending," she muttered.
"I was in a mood the other day," James admitted. "I meant to say I'm sorry for that."
Lily, exceedingly surprised that James Potter would apologize for anything he did, only raised her eyebrows, keeping her gaze on the broom cupboard in front of her.
"Aren't you going to ask me," James asked, after some moments of silence passed between them, "why I was in such a foul mood?"
"No," Lily replied sweetly.
"Well, I intend to tell you anyway," said James, standing up and striding over to the locker room door.
To Lily's utter amazement, James reached into his pocket, withdrew his wand, and mumbled a locking spell at the doors. Merlin's Knickers! She thought. The boy was a loon! What was he doing locking Lily in the locker room with him?
"Are you mad?" She hissed incredulously.
"Probably," James Potter replied, dropping back down onto one of the benches. He ruffled his hair in that annoying way he had, making it even messier than it already was, and, after a moment of watching Lily stare at him, patted the bench beside him. "Sit."
Lily, highly affronted—but positively intrigued—by his behavior, replied with spirit, "I most certainly shall not!"
"Fine," James replied, standing up from the bench. "Now you are going to listen to me."
Lily realized that she did not have much of a choice. Unless she managed to break through the large oak doors—something she doubted she was strong enough to do, she could not help but listen to him. She supposed she could have started to yell, but no one would have heard her. They were all out on the quidditch pitch.
And besides, she was mightily interested in what it was that James Potter, serious enough to lock her in the locker room with him, had to tell her. Was Alice correct in her assertions that James Potter was keen on her—and not the kind of keen he'd demonstrated in the fourth year when he wrote her a ballad of how her hair reminded him of spaghetti sauce? Was such a thing even possible? How could James Potter possibly be in love with her, when, for the entire time she'd known him, he'd done nothing but vex and tease her?
But then, recalling what Alice had said to her not an hour ago, it occurred to Lily that perhaps it was because James was so very fond of her that he'd taken to calling her Miss Brainiac and putting down her attempts to educate the brainless of Hogwarts. Perhaps what Alice had accused Lily of—of hating James Potter so much that she could only be in love with him—was actually true of James?
Great bubotuber! It would certainly seem as if that were the case. James was looking at Lily like he wanted to throttle her, but perhaps that was just James's look for wooing a girl! Perhaps he had trapped Lily in the Locker room, only to snog her until she could no longer stand!
Lily, much to chagrin, found the idea of snogging James Potter quite…thrilling. In fact, just the thought of it made her heart beat a little more wildly than she would have liked. What kind of girl was she, anyway, that she could find the idea of kissing James Potter—the insufferable, egotistical, idiot prat, so very appealing?
She was going out with Amos Diggory for Bertram the Brave's sake!
And yet, there was no denying that when James Potter stood up from that bench and strode over to lean against the door of the broom cupboard, or commanded to have his wand back, or glared at her higher score on a charms essay, or sat across from her at meals…well her spine gave a little jolt each time.
Merlin! Just think—James Potter is going to profess his undying love to me! What a laugh! I suppose I'll have to turn the poor dear down, but gently. I don't want him to dive off of his broom! Much to dramatic…
"Lily," James said, "I've tried everything I can think of to convince you how foolhardy this scheme of yours is—going out with Diggory, I mean. But you just don't see reason. And so, you leave me with no choice but to reveal something to you—something that not even my fifth dormitory mate, of whose name I shall refrain from saying, knows."
As James paused, Lily noted with satisfaction what a dignified speech this was. She knew, of course, what was coming next. James would tell her how much he couldn't live with out her and how the thought of her in Amos's arms drove him to the brink. Then she, politely, would tell him to sod off, hoping that he wouldn't do something too rash.
She watched James expectantly as he struggled to find the right words.
"The truth is, Lily…" Here James bent his head and seemed unable to go on.
Lily, rather vexed that James seemed to be taking his sweet time—surely the others were expecting them back by now—put her hand on his arm and said in the most comforting voice she could summon, "Potter, you needn't say another word. I already know."
James looked up quickly and gulped. "You do? But how did you…how could you have found out?"
"It doesn't matter," Lily said gravely. "All that is important is…well, what we're going to do about it."
"Do about it?" James reached up to run a hand through his dark hair, causing Lily's fingers to slip from his arm. But he hardly seemed to notice this. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about? Isn't it obvious what you're going to do about it?"
Lily saw that she was going to have to handle this delicately. Already James was getting red from agitation. While the idea of Potter doing himself harm because of his unrequited desire to have a one Lily Evans was, of course, delightful, she would miss him if he expired.
"Really, James," she said, unconsciously using his given name for the first time since second year. "I think you're making far too big a deal out of this. I'm sure it's only… a passing fancy."
"A passing fancy?" James stared at her as if she'd just turned into a mountain troll with a bad case of hinky-pox. "That Amos Diggory is in league with Death Eaters? I rather think not."
