Still don't own any characters that you recognise--except Samantha Tchaikovsky, you might start recognising her now.


A note on the chapter: Hey all, you came back! Yay! Well, this one's a bit shorter after those last two...phew, I'm still a wee bit tired. Alright, so this is just kind of developing the story a bit. The next chapter is chock full of goodness. So get through this one! I believe in you!

Also, I would like to say that I often mix between the British and American spellings of words. I apologise/apologize. I read a lot of British books, and therefore the spellings are in my head that way, but I live in the US, so there's a bit of a clash there.

Love Always,

Fae

Plots and Plans

It was the first week of November. All students were wearing cloaks nearly all the time, as the classrooms became quite drafty in the winter time. That Friday at dinner, Lily was reminded by a small first year running errands that she was to meet Potter for a Head's Meeting in the Great Hall, that evening at nine.

"That's late," Sam noted, reading over Lily's shoulder, "Very cute. I bet it will be empty, free of any witnesses..."

"Sam," Lily warned her of intruding on their truce, which was still being honored, no matter how sketchily. Each had toed the line quite often whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"Sorry," said Sam quickly.

"'S okay," Lily sighed, "I'm getting kind of tired of the truce, to tell the truth."

"What other option do we have?" Sam said, looking alarmed at any alternative.

Again, Lily sighed.

"I don't want to see him," she said, finally.

"Why not?"

"Because it's Potter," she said, reverting to her original description of James.

"Ah, well, some have been known to tame the beast," Sam said in a heroic voice as they excused themselves from dinner, "I heard that one brave soul actually called him James just to get an answer out of him."

Lily took a moment to give her friend a very pointed dirty look.

"Sorry," Sam chuckled.


That evening at five to nine, Lily took the portrait hole down to the Great Hall. It was dark and the halls were abandoned. She had her wand stowed in her pocket, her Head Girl badge pinned to her robes, in case any teacher on patrol should apprehend her. She pushed open the door to the Great Hall. Potter wasn't there yet, and she took in the scene by herself.

The candles that were suspended above the tables by magic were dimmed, and all of the tables had been pushed up against the wall except for one, which had been left at the center of the hall. Lily approached it, marveling at how her padded footsteps echoed off the walls, though the voices at meal times never seemed to travel farther than to the next chair down. The sky--or the ceiling rather--was very clear, with stars shining in the millions, some in small clouds, others blinking brightly on their own.

"Pretty, huh?" asked a voice in her ear.

She didn't want to jump, but she did involuntarily. James Potter was standing right behind her, and when she turned to look at him, he was looking harmlessly up at the sky.

"Yes," agreed Lily, taking one final look before sitting down at one of the two chairs that had been left at the table. The only other items present were a note in Dumbledore's hand and a little golden bell:

If either of you would desire some refreshments, you only have to ring this bell. A House Elf will be out to take your order, shortly.

A. Dumbledore

"Do you want anything?" asked James, finishing the note and looking at her. Lily shook her head, "Me neither," said James instantly, and she couldn't help wondering if her answer had been different, what his would have been.

"So..." Lily paused.

"I believe he mentioned something about a Christmas Ball?" said James, and Lily was admittedly shocked when he unfolded a piece of parchment on which he had been apparently brain-storming, "These are some of the ideas that I had, I don't know what you thought of,"

"Um, well, nothing really," said Lily, and she instantly saw him beginning to smile. She snatched the list and read off of the list. There were some that had been crossed off, but she could still read what they had said, such as: outdoor dance and Forbidden Forest. Others had remained on the list, but were equally ridiculous: Magical Creature Caroling Contest, or Broom-stick dance.

"Well?"

"I'm curious, Potter, for your broomstick dance are you planning on having people flying around?" she smiled at the thought.

"Well, that was the original idea," said Potter, and Lily actually saw him blush, and she couldn't keep the thought out of her head that this action on him was quite endearing, "but it was stupid. Did I forget to cross that out?"

"You must have," she said, continuing down the list, "And what, pray tell, was the Magical Creature Caroling contest?"

"I was thinking," he said, looking exceptionally enthusiastic, "that we could split into teams, right?
And we'd each bring some kind of creature, like a troll or a centaur or a house elf or something and have a caroling contest with the other teams."

Lily looked at him, then, broke down into an immense fit of giggles. He looked at her, then began laughing too. She clutched her side as it hurt from laughing too hard.

"Who's--going--too--let--a--troll--in--the--building?" she gasped between giggles, "Can you imagine?"

"He would be a great kind of bass singer," said James, laughing equally as much. At this suggestion, Lily gave a little cry of laughter, which hurt her side even more, and she gasped in pain. It was all too funny though, and she couldn't stop laughing.

"Were you actually going to have us go dancing outside, in the Forbidden Foerst?" she asked when she finally caught her breath again.

"Until I realised that it would be December, and therefore rather cold, yes," he said, looking defensive. She had to bite her lip from laughing again.

"I like this," she added, coming to the choice that said 'Costume Ball.'

"Do you?" James asked, looking amused, "Moony came up with that one."

"It's quite good. Of course, there are the flaws. People would come in ridiculous costumes and ruin the whole thing..."

"But we could just station some of our Prefects at the door to ensure that doesn't happen."

"True," Lily thought for a moment, "You know, a good, old-fashioned ball never goes out of style. With everyone in..." she was about to say dress robes, but something had made her think of Cinderella, with the Muggle balls and dresses and white shirts with ties and black jackets.

"In...?" James prompted.

"What if we did a ball in Muggle clothes?" suggested Lily, "Instead of dress robes."

"Don't Muggle blokes wear, what are they called, Tuxemos to fancy events?"

"Tuxedoes," corrected Lily, smiling, "The men wear tuxedoes and the women wear dresses."

James seemed to think on it for a moment.

"I think it would be good," he said finally, "It would get us out of dress robes, which I know not many people like, and Dumbledore would like it because it gets us interacting with, or rather experiencing the Muggle 'culture'." He looked at her quickly, as if he realised that he may have insulted her, seeing as she came from a Muggle family.

Lily was quiet. James Potter had just made not one, but a series of comments that not only made sense, but were also mature and based on reason. Maybe, she thought, maybe he wasn't the same boy that had teased her on their first day at Hogwarts. Of course he wasn't, she chided herself, he was older, and he was more considerate and, she thought looking at him, he wasn't even bad looking.

"I'd like to see you in a tuxedo, James,"

Dammit, she had called him James again. She found with slight horror that she hadn't even meant to, that it just seemed like what she should call him. He looked over at her, met her gaze, and this time she saw something in his hazel eyes--his beautiful hazel eyes--that made her hold his gaze.

"I'd like to see you in a dress," he was leaning in towards her, and she found that she was returning the gesture, "Lily," he added, and he kissed her.

It was absolutely the most wonderful moment Lily had experienced. His lips were warm and soft against hers, it felt as if she could kiss him forever...


James Potter was fairly sure that he had died.

And some how, he had made it to Heaven.

Because he was kissing Lily Evans. On the mouth. And he was pretty sure she was kissing him back.

He couldn't think of any possible way that this could get any better. Carefully, he moved his arm to put his hand in her hair.

With a little gasp, Lily pulled away, looking at him in shock. Her face was very red, which was so sweet that James had no other thought in his head than to kiss her again. But it didn't look as if she was ready for that. He realised that his hand was suspended in midair, and he drew it back quickly.

"I'm sorry, James," she said, standing up. That was the third time she had called him James. His name had never sounded better than when it came from her lips.

"Lily," he stood up, too, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you,"

She looked at him in a pained way. It looked as if she was deciding between two equally-appealing choices. He had seen her make this face all the time during their exams at the end of term. He liked watching her when she took tests because he could almost see her thinking. He wished he knew what she was thinking now. Suddenly it seemed as if she had made up her mind.

"No, you shouldn't have," she said.

Her words were like a curse, hitting him in the chest so that the wind was nearly knocked from his lungs. What did she mean, he shouldn't have? He was fairly sure that she had been enjoying kissing him, even if it wasn't close to how much he enjoyed kissing her.

"You were kissing me back," he said in a quiet voice. Her face took on a look of hurt and he wished he hadn't said anything at all.

"Potter,"

So he was back to Potter--again.

"I don't like you, and I'm sorry I let you kiss me."

Her words had a sense of finality to them and she turned to leave.

"Lily--Evans!" he caught up with her easily, "I'm sorry, just forget it, okay?" All he could hear in his ears was her voice saying 'I don't like you' over and over.

She looked at him sideways, as if testing the truthfulness in his words. She must have decided that he was telling the truth because she slowed her gait considerably, so it wasn't so much that she was trying to get away as just walk. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"It was--it was silly," she said, "I shouldn't have let you do that." she added.

"I'm glad you did," he said, smiling as he thought of her face after she broke away. She looked at him again, this time rather guiltily, but smiled nonetheless.

"We'll tell Dumbledore about our Muggle idea tomorrow?" she suggested.

"That would be good," he nodded in approval, putting his hands in his pockets as they crossed the hall to the portrait hole. Lilly nodded her own head, and her long red hair bounced up and down.

"Quidditch," she said to the Fat Lady, who nodded and swung forward.

"Hey, speaking of, are you going to come to our first match tomorrow? It's versus Ravenclaw, so it should be a good game. Tchaikovsky's big debut, anyway."

"Of course I'll be there," she said. There was no one in the common room, and they both stood there a moment, looking everywhere--anywhere--but at the other. She sort of nodded to no one in particular, then turned and started up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Good night Lily," he said finally, right before she entered her room. He saw her pause. Saw her turn around and look at him. There was something shining in her big green eyes, and though he had never paid very much attention to emotions before, he was pretty sure that it wasn't the look that you gave someone that you didn't like.

"Good night James," she said.

James watched the spot where she had been standing until well after she was gone. She had turned him down so many times, but why was this one night so difficult for him to accept? And when she had said good night, something in her voice had made him feel something deep inside, as if everything she had said earlier was a lie. He sighed and traipsed up the stairs to his own dormitory.

Girls could be confusing, but Lily Evans always kept him coming back, even if it was for nothing more than being denied. Not surprisingly, the room was illuminated, and all the other Marauders were still awake.

"Well?" Moony asked as James sat down and took off his shoes.

"How did it go?" demanded Sirius.

"I kissed her," James said dully, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"And?"

"It was wonderful, as expected," he maintained his monotone, "But she pulled out again."

"Well, she's just becoming accostomed to the Prongs Experience," said Sirius confidently, and James broke a smile, hoping that his friend was right.

"How did the sensitive talk go?" asked Moony, who had instructed James all through his classes on ways to speak more maturely. James hadn't bought it at first, but Remus insisted that girls loved it when boys spoke with intelligence and sensitivity. It had sounded like a load of bull, but James had to hand it to Moony: it had worked.

"She loved it," James said, "that was how we kissed anyway."

"Ah, so you both kissed... together?" asked Sirius, "That's a step forward!" he said encouragingly, "First, you kissed her, then you both kind of kissed each other. Before you know it, Prongs, she'll be snogging you."

James smiled indulgently, but Moony looked skeptical.

"Let's hope Lily sees it that way," he said, and as James turned out his light, he couldn't help wishing that he was right.


"Good night, James,"

Sam heard Lily's voice outside, and sat up to listen to the conversation. Lily opened the door and stepped inside. She didn't spot Sam, and made the classic girl-in-love move by closing the door and leaning up against it. She closed her eyes.

"Back to James, are we?" Sam asked, looking at her. Lily jumped and caught her eye.

"I guess," she said, and Sam saw there was some sort of pain in her eyes.

"What happened?" Sam sighed.

"We talked about ideas for the Christmas dance,"

"And that made you look like you're about to cry?" Sam said skeptically.

"No," Lily grumbled, changing into her pajamas, "And we decided we could do a ball except instead of dress robes, we'd wear Muggle clothes, you know, like tuxedos and gowns and whatever, and then I said 'I'd like to see you in a tuxedo, James,' and he said, 'I'd like to see you in a dress, Lily,' and then--" she bit her lip.

"You kissed him?" Sam supposed.

"He kissed me," said Lily, climbing into her bed.

"Aw, Lily, that's so sweet," said Sam.

"No," groaned Lily, "I pulled away,"

"Again?" Sam asked, looking at her in shock, "Lily, you know you want to kiss him!"

"Ugh, don't remind me,"

"Why not? You're going to kiss him eventually,"

"No, I think I hurt his feelings," she said miserably.

"Lily, you've been turning him down for six years."

"Yes, Sam, but I told him that he shouldn't have kissed me and that I didn't like him back and that kissing him was silly, and..."

"But Lily!" Sam's voice raised to a whispering yell, "You don't feel that way! Why do you do this to yourself?"

Sam loved Lily like another sister, but sometimes she confused her beyond all hope of understanding.

"I don't know," Lily moaned, "And then I said--"

"And then you said 'Good night, James,'" Sam immitated her tone.

"Did I sound that way?" Lily wailed, looking at Sam beseechingly.

"Yes," Sam affirmed.

"Bloody hell," swore Lily, "I wouldn't give up on me either if I sounded like that,"

"Let's hope that James feels the same way."