**Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Chapter 09: The Marauders' Revenge
Lily was missing a shoe. She didn't know why it was missing. She hadn't even worn this particular pair since she had arrived at school in September, yet somehow she had managed to misplace the left one. The best route to finding it, she supposed, lay in following her mother's advice and cleaning her room.
It was always an atypical set of circumstances that led to Lily cleaning her bedroom. Ever since she was a small child and she had slept in a trundle bed beside her sister, she'd had a difficult time keeping her room clean. Petunia was fastidious; Lily was messy. Petunia was organized; Lily was scattered. Lily was unsure how much of that was her natural tendency, how much was a reaction to her older sister's personality and the perpetual desire every child had to be unique from their siblings, and how much was a passive-aggressive way to get under Petunia's skin. The lines between those three factors merged and blurred. But whatever the causality might be, Lily still kept an untidy room even years after her parents had moved them into a bigger house where the girls no longer had to share a space, and even at Hogwarts.
Lily tossed one of her Astronomy books with a little too much force. She didn't like thinking of her sister. It led to all sorts of mixed feelings—regret, anger, hurt, resentment—and usually she wound up crying or snapping at the next person unfortunate enough to happen by. Perhaps Petunia and Severus should start a goddamned club.
Regardless, she needed the shoe. Her sage green heels matched her dressrobes, and the masque was tonight, so tidying her room became priority one. Merlin, did she always have this many books? And how did they all end up under her bed? Maybe if I would just take them back to the library when they are due, she thought ruefully. Experimental Brews Throughout History was a good three weeks late.
Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms? Her brows knit. She was certain she had used this very book in class just a few days ago. Lily rose to her feet and made her way over to where she had thrown her bag after classes on Friday. Setting the book she had found under her bed on the desk, she rifled through the bag and withdrew an identical copy. That was strange. She opened the book in her hand to the back cover. Underneath the bolded words 'This book is the property of' her own name was scrawled in her loopy signature. She dropped it back into the bag and reached for the one that had been buried under her bed.
"This book is the property of Alida Ackerley."
Oh…shit.
…How? How the hell did this get in her room?
Surely that timid cow had never been up here before. She had been in the common room many times, but Lily had been sure to lock her door extensively, not trusting that James wouldn't find a way to circumvent the enchanted stairs. There had never been any signs that her defenses had been breached. This made the most likely scenario that Lily herself had brought the book into her room. She was absentminded enough to manage it, and if she had come across the book in the common room one night, she might have not even bothered to double check that it was hers.
In the end, Lily supposed, speculation was insignificant. No matter the circumstance of how the book came to be in her possession, it needed to be returned. Lily swallowed at the unpleasant prospect, but recognized the unavoidability of it.
She sighed and gathered the books that needed to be returned to the library; she might as well get two disagreeable errands over with in one go.
Madam Pince was as warm as ever, and Lily had apologized profusely for her tardiness in returning the books—even though only half of them were overdue. As she turned around to leave, however, she saw James' ex-girlfriend seated at a table with Maggie Bagnold and Darien Tyle near the Charms section.
Lily hesitated. While she was grateful that she didn't have to go looking for the book's owner, she was also disappointed that the task could no longer be procrastinated. This was going to be awkward no matter how she played it, so she resolved to keep the encounter as brief as possible.
Straightening her shoulders a bit, she approached the table.
The three girls looked up from their work. At first they seemed surprised, but then the mood shifted and Lily could feel the animosity. Maggie in particular seemed to take offense that Lily had intruded on their study session.
Lily cleared her throat uneasily. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was cleaning today and I found this in my room." She placed the book on the table before the girl. "I think I may have picked it up by mistake in the common room one night."
Alida was staring at the book with a very odd expression on her face, almost as though she had been kicked or slapped, and Lily shifted uncomfortably.
"Is there anything else of hers you'd like to return?" Maggie cut in.
"I'm sorry?" Lily asked in confusion.
The girl's dark eyes, with dark smudges beneath them, glared daggers at Lily. "Anything else of hers that you might have accidentally brought up to your room about the same time?"
James, Lily realized numbly. She's talking about James. Looking from one girl to the next it dawned rather abruptly that they all believed that Lily had stolen James out from under Alida, and that she had been sleeping with him even before his previous relationship had officially ended. Horrified, Lily took a step back from the table. She had known that this would be an unpleasant encounter, but that was because she hadn't liked Alida to begin with and it was never enjoyable meeting a boyfriend's ex. But this was nothing like running into Kinsey Charleston at the zoo three months after Rafe had thrown the girl over. Lily had never had anyone look at her like she was some conniving and unscrupulous tart—the kind of witch that seduced other witch's boyfriends.
Lily opened her mouth to explain, but no words came out. She realized that it would be a wasted gesture. They wouldn't believe anything she said. And she very, very much needed to get out of this library.
She mumbled something about having someplace to be, and retreated. On her way back to the Head dormitories, she passed Mary and Daphne, who had their heads together while they whispered, and Lily was struck with a rather awful thought. Exactly how much of the Hogwarts population believed as the Ravenclaws in the library did? Had Lily been walking around in such a haze of new relationship giddiness that she was missing what was going on around her, what people were saying?
Her hands began to tremble a bit, though she didn't know if that was because she was mortified or angry. Her feelings were just a bit too muddled for her to be able to tell the difference.
She approached the fairy painting. "Bowtruckles," she said flatly.
"It's not that the Prides are out and out shit, it's that they haven't had much going for them since McCormack retired—and that was ten years ago. Putting money on the bleeding Prides at this stage is ludicrous," Sirius was saying with far too much venom for such an asinine topic, in Lily's opinion.
James scoffed. "Yes, but they're up against the Arrows. The Arrows are rubbish—nothing like the Cannons, of course—but rubbish. Besides, they're owned by Arturo Herrlick. He's such a wanker, and reason enough all on his own to bet against the team."
Remus was reading by the fireplace, and Peter was eating some plum pudding he had obviously pilfered from the kitchens. Neither of them seemed to be taking part in the conversation.
Lily rolled her eyes and stomped her way up to her room. For the most part she enjoyed sharing a dormitory with James, but the fact that his friends routinely let themselves in and spent hours and hours in their common room was less than appealing. Especially when they had their big Quidditch debates, like the one that was clearly heating up today.
When she reached her room, she slammed her door behind her with a little too much force and immediately felt guilty about it. It wasn't their fault she was upset. She rather liked Remus a lot, and Peter was growing on her. But that insensitive prat Black was constantly on her nerves. If she didn't like hearing about Quidditch when Melody or James talked about it, she was especially annoyed when Sirius would go on and on. Still, however much she disliked him, he had nothing to do with the sick feeling she had in her stomach.
Heavily, she let herself fall back onto her bed. She rubbed her face as she stared up at the silk canopy. A horrible question suddenly presented itself. Did James know? Had he heard these rumors? That she only wanted him for his money? That she had seduced him away from his former girlfriend?
Daphne was right. People were mean.
Lily sighed, wondering if she should admit how much this whole business bothered her.
James was knotting the bowtie that went with his dressrobes with some difficulty. He just didn't wear bowties often enough for the skill to have cemented itself in any way, and it always took a few tries before he remembered the exact procedure. Not that he was complaining at having little experience wearing them. He looked like a wanker in the damned things, and didn't even like the regular neckties that he was required to wear every day.
The bowtie became tangled around his fingers, and he swore. Who was he kidding? It wasn't dressing like a bleeding dandy that had him short tempered. It was the brilliant scheme he had helped plan, but wouldn't see. In fact, as the hour drew closer to the start of the masque, James found his mood growing more and more petulant. That was probably at least partly due to the lecture Sirius had given him down in the common room a few hours ago, saying that James was taking his friends for granted and that he was no fun now that he had gone all respectable on them. Peter had thrown a few stones himself, but Remus had remained silent throughout.
Lily, he reminded himself. He was going to this pretentious, tedious party with Lily, and that made it worth it. Almost.
Part of him was puzzled at the amount of distaste he was beginning to feel toward this date. After all, when Lily had asked him to come with her weeks ago up on the Astronomy Tower, he had scarcely hesitated. The choice between the two activities had seemed obvious. Of course, just before, Lily had given him the best orgasm of his life, and that might have clouded his judgment a bit.
He was mad about the girl, but a pompous ball was a pompous ball no matter who you went with.
James was startled by a knock at his door, but immediately jumped to answer it. He had been expecting Remus for almost an hour now.
"Did you bring the costumes?" he demanded.
Remus raised his eyebrows at James' tone. "Yes."
James took the packages from his friend's outstretched hand.
"There's…something I should probably tell you about them."
James didn't like the sound of that. "Am I about to find out why you kept 'forgetting' to bring them every day for two weeks?"
Remus smiled nervously. "In my defense, it was Sirius' idea."
"Oh God, what's wrong with them?" James looked down at the packages in his arms with alarm.
"Nothing's defective or embarrassing about them, per se," Remus paused, and James waited rather impatiently for the other shoe to drop. "But they aren't lions."
Part of James went numb with horror. His fingers began tearing at the brown paper of the largest package. It came away to reveal…antlers.
Bloody hell—antlers!
He was going to kill Sirius.
James glowered at Remus. "You realize that this is not funny."
Remus considered that for a moment. "No, I think might be."
James collapsed on the trunk at the foot of his bed and reclined against a bedpost. "So…you're a touch more angry than you let on."
He sighed. "I understand that it's Lily, but this is it, James. This is our last one."
James froze.
"It must have crossed your mind, Prongs," he continued. "This is our seventh year. We've used up most of our reprieves, we're all playing it safer these days, and, like Sirius said, you're going respectable on us."
At that accusation, James' head snapped up. Remus couldn't possibly be serious.
He shrugged. "It's true isn't it?"
James' eyes narrowed.
Remus spread his palms defensively. "It's not a bad thing, James. We all have to grow up eventually. Padfoot and Wormtail might not understand that yet, but I do." He paused and his gaze fell to his shoes. "And I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate it—because I do. I know that you're doing it largely because of me, and that means a lot. Especially because it is causing you tension with Sirius."
James folded his arms, waiting for the 'but…' He was not disappointed.
"But this is our last big one—the last mark we'll leave on Hogwarts as the Marauders. And you chose a girl who cares about half a fig for you over your friends."
That wasn't quite the 'but' he had been expecting. James swallowed uncomfortably, averting his gaze. Sure he had been resenting his choice to go to the masque, and resenting his mates for being such gits about the whole thing. But he hadn't really thought about it the way Remus had explained it, and he found himself feeling guilty, as well. Remus was right, damn it. What the hell was he thinking letting Lily, who had treated him like dung up until a few weeks ago, drag him to this ridiculous thing when his friends, who had been loyal to him for years, had been counting on him.
Remus motioned to the costume. "If it had been something really embarrassing or tasteless, I would have stopped him, but it's not as though you mind being a stag."
James cocked a brow at him.
There was a prolonged and tense silence before Remus turned to go. He paused with his hand on the doorknob.
"You didn't…tell Lily about being an Animagus by chance, did you?" he asked. The accusation in his voice was faint but unmistakable.
"What?" James managed after a moment of stunned silence. "Of course not."
"Because her friend Melody seemed to think dressing the two of you up as a stag and a doe was every bit as amusing as Sirius and Peter did."
His brows knit at that piece of information, but his tone was firm in his reply. "I give my word that I have not so much as hinted at our animal transformations."
Remus nodded. "That's good. I know how you feel about her, and I'm happy for you. All I ask is that you keep it in perspective." He gave James an encouraging smile and pulled the door open.
James sat slightly numb after his exit. His eyes fell to the antlers in his grasp. He had to fight the urge to fling them at the wall. "Keep it in perspective…." How patronizing.
He did his best to swallow his seething anger, but couldn't escape the feeling that he had just been lectured by his father. Remus had talked down to him, yet it was undeniable that he was right and that James had deserved it. Which only served to make it more difficult to accept. Fucking hell, James was a prat.
He knocked the back of his head against the bedpost a few times in frustration. This would all be easier if he didn't fancy Lily so much, if he didn't care what she thought of him, or want her for the long haul.
There was a light rapping on his door that he had come associate with his girlfriend.
"Come in," he snapped before he could rein in his aggravation.
Lily poked her head in and he sat forward, pulled toward her by some invisible force.
"Do you have the costumes yet?" she asked. She opened the door all the way and stepped through. Her green robes were low-cut, and the bodice was tight. A white sash was draped around her waist, secured at her groin with a gold broach. A thick, gold choker adorned her neck, and it may have been his imagination, but he could swear there were gold sparkles in her hair, which tumbled freely down her back in loose, jumbled curls. Like she had just rolled out of bed.
His erection was instantaneous. Suddenly, he could think of something he would rather do than the ball and the Peeves prank.
Her face became pink as he stared. "Do you like my robes?" she asked, her voice a little unsteady.
"My bed is right here," he spoke without thinking.
Lily laughed, her flush spreading to her chest in the most fascinating way. "Yes," she said softly. "It is."
He pulled his eyes up to her face sharply from where they had been ogling her feminine attributes.
She looked away shyly, but her words were bold and traveled down his body like a caress. "Rest assured, I have given your bed ample thought."
Merlin, how did things degenerate so quickly? All she had to do was walk into a room and his twisted brain would come up with a thousand scenarios in which he got her out of her clothes. The worst part was that she was always game, always open to the suggestion, even now when she was blushing like a nervous virgin. Her willingness hit him like a Bludger to the stomach every time, reminding him that his stubborn desire to win her was the only reason he didn't yet know what it felt like to be inside her.
"But then," she teased, "we would miss the masque."
He sighed piteously. "We can't go anyway."
"Why not?"
He gestured to the strip of black silk slung round his neck. "I can't remember how to knot a bowtie."
Lily laughed. It was the best sound in the world. "Well, I can."
She approached and sat beside him on the trunk. Wordlessly she reached out and gathered the ends of the tie. A look of intense concentration came over her face, as though it had been a long time since she had done this as well.
He watched her bite her lip and felt her hands brushing his neck and chest. She smelled like jasmine rather than her usual spiced apples. The scent floated up from her curled hair and his fingers itched to touch. He had been right; there were bits of gold in her hair—not many, just here and there. They gave her an otherworldly quality. She looked like an angel.
Which he knew very well was not the case. He found himself smiling daftly at the thought, so very glad that she was not an angel.
Perhaps afterward, he might actually bring her up to his bed….
That notion and that notion alone was enough to convince himself that going to this party with her was worth missing the Peeves prank.
She smiled up at him. "How's that?"
James stood so that he could see his reflection in the mirror. "A mite crooked, but that's all right. It just makes me look more dashing."
"Yes, but you'd think you looked dashing in anything," she said it in a voice meant to convey exasperation, but the light in her eyes said something entirely different.
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, about that…. There has been a slight change of plans with the costumes."
Her eyes narrowed. "We've been over this—I will not go to the masque dressed as a monkey. We compromised on the lions."
James grinned at her apologetically. "Our friends had other plans."
"Our friends?"
"Well," he sat down beside her again, "I asked Remus to pick them up, and it seems he, Sirius, Peter, and Mel got a little creative."
"Creative?"
He picked up the package at his feet, tore the rest of the paper off, and handed Lily the rack of antlers. She held them mutely for a moment, her face draining of all color.
That's an interesting reaction, James thought to himself, remembering what Remus had said about Melody thinking the swap was hilarious. He studied Lily shrewdly, instantly becoming guarded. Remus was right; the Marauders' secrets were sacred and he had played too loose and free with them. A bit of skirt, even a bit of skirt named Lily Evans, was not worth breaking the trust he and his mates had built.
"I'm not quite sure I understand the joke," he played dumb, but he didn't so much as blink as he waited for her response, so intent was he on her reaction.
Color swept back into her complexion en masse. She looked up at him, but quickly averted her gaze. "All right, I'll confess."
He braced himself.
"Just…" she paused, chewing her lip, "please, try not to laugh."
He leaned back against the bedpost again and nodded.
"One night, I came down to get some books from the common room, and you…were up here with that Ravenclaw girl."
"Alida?"
Lily nodded. "You hadn't Imperturbed your door, so I could hear you. It sounded fairly…intense, so I got out of hearing range as quickly as I could manage. But she kept calling you her 'stag'."
James was sitting stiffly. Bloody fucking hell, he was going to have to murder Sirius for that one all over again. "Why would I laugh at that?"
She gave a shy smile, "No, I meant later." When it became obvious that that he did not understand, she elaborated, "When I finish the story. There's still more."
"Oh."
"But, would it be all right if I asked you a question before I finish?"
He groaned, knowing what was coming. "Why not?"
"Why was she calling you a stag?"
Now he was the one having trouble making eye contact. "Have you ever heard of a Muggle named Ivan Pavlov?"
She actually laughed. "Of course."
James didn't know whether or not to take offense at that. "Well, I hadn't. Not until this past summer anyway. Sirius was really interested in some of his research and decided to try modifying it into a spell. Imbecile that I am, I helped him by using some of those proofs I've been working on for McGonagall. Anyway, long story short, he used me for his guinea pig and convinced Lida to help him. She told me afterward that he had told her that I knew he had cast the spell on me and that my participation was consensual." He ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly. "My stimulus was the word 'stag' and my response was to rub her clit. Thank God it wore off after a few hours."
Lily's eyes were dancing. "From what I heard, she enjoyed the experiment very much."
James was unable to stop his grin. "That she did." His smile faded. "Of course we broke up the very next day."
There was an awkward silence before Lily spoke. "Why?"
"Why did we break up?"
She nodded.
His jaw hardened a bit. "Why did you and your boyfriend break up?"
Her eyes widened in alarm. "What boyfriend?" Her voice was so soft he almost didn't hear it.
"The one who chucked you just before you came after me."
"I…" she swallowed, "I would rather not talk about him."
James nodded, standing and walking over to his dresser to retrieve his watch. He tried not to think about the tosser in her past who could create this haunted look in her eyes and what he would like to do to him. Obviously, the bloke was an idiot—at the very least.
"Do you miss her?" He heard Lily ask quietly as he fastened the timepiece to his wrist.
He met eyes with her in the mirror. "Lida?"
She nodded.
"Sometimes," he answered honestly.
Lily nodded again, this time rather absently. "I suppose that's how it works."
God, whoever this prick was, he'd done quite the number on her.
"So," he prompted. "What happened next?"
Startled, her gaze darted back to his.
"In your story that you haven't finished—the part I'm not supposed to laugh at."
"Oh, right." She sat up a little straighter. "I told Melody about it. Then she drugged me with that Brynhild's Elixir, and I had that dream."
"The sex dream?" he prodded with an exaggerated leer meant to break the tension.
It worked and she smiled. "Yes, the sex dream. Well, it seems that my subconscious had become fixated with the stag thing and in the dream, you had antlers."
He paused as he reached for his cologne. "Just to be clear, in your dream I kept scores of bunnies and wore antlers, and you still slept with me?"
Lily was giggling now. "You didn't give me much choice. You said that I was your prize, that I belonged to you. Then you commanded me to strip so that you could 'take me'."
The cap to his bottle of cologne slipped out of his grasp and clattered to the floor.
She grinned, pleased with his reaction. "Plus, you told me that you were the King of the Forest, and then you ordered your rabbits to worship me, and you know how that kind of thing impresses a girl."
His eyes narrowed, even as his erection had sprung back to life at the picture she was painting. "You're winding me up."
"No I'm not." She spread her palms. "It was an odd dream." Her eyes fell to the antlers in her lap, and her expression became one of mischievous delight. "Perhaps we could act it out later, now that we have these as a prop."
Lily rose from the trunk and walked over to him. She lifted the rack onto his head and then cast the Charm to make it stay in place. Her eyes drifted over him lingeringly, a somewhat bemused smile tugging at her lips.
"Your dream come to life?"
She shrugged and said cheekily, "They were bigger in the dream."
His gaze fell to her lips, and he heard her breath catch. But he turned away. He was too aroused and she looked too tempting. If he so much as kissed her, they would not make it to the masque.
James strode over to the second package Remus had brought, and ripped back the brown paper to reveal their masks. They were delicate ovals of brown fur with holes cut out for their eyes. His was specially modified to accommodate his glasses. There was also a headband for her with doe ears that would rise up out of her hair.
He felt more than heard her approach to his side, and he passed her the mask and the ears without looking at her. It was a moment before she left his side to put them on in front of the mirror, and he could feel her eyes on him. They really needed to get out of this room and away from his bed.
James donned his mask and turned to look at her. He had to stop himself from sighing in relief. She looked adorable—especially with the ears. But most of her face was covered, and he couldn't deny that such made it infinitely easier to resist her.
He held his arm out to her. "Shall we?"
She smiled and entwined her arm with his.
As he opened his door for the two of them to make their way down to the party, she asked, "So…you can't cast an Imperturbable, can you?"
"Not really, no."
James was bored; Lily could tell. He put on a pleasant face and was a perfect gentleman to Slughorn and the adult guests Slug had wished to introduce her to, but he was bored. She supposed she shouldn't be overly surprised; this wasn't his sort of party by any means, and he was probably thinking fondly of the Halloween Feast he was missing upstairs in the Great Hall.
The masque was in one of the larger dungeons of Hogwarts. Instead of the standard fare of cobwebs and carved pumpkins, the decorations followed more of an autumn theme. Colored leaves hung from the ceiling, charmed to sway as though there was a breeze. Over the dance floor, the leaves were floating to the ground in increments. A string quartet sat on a raised, wooden platform to the side of the dance floor, and an announcer called out each selection before they began to play. Golden yellow and white silk cloths titivated the tables, and the only light in the room came from the many candles. It was Slug's most lavish party of the year, and the one most of his alumni attended. There were only about twelve current members of the Club in attendance with their dates. All in all, there were probably less than fifty people in the room, and it was a very Slytherin-heavy selection.
She had made sure to claim a table shared with Hestia Jones, her date Brian Cuffe, and Orsino Thruston and his date, Heather Tillney. It was a meeting of three Houses, but she wagered James would be more comfortable there than at a table with Slytherins. Of course, Lily realized her mistake immediately when it became clear that Heather was one of James' former dalliances.
When James went with Orsino and Brian to get punch, she leaned over to Lily and whispered in an acerbically cool tone, "You may think you have a hold on him now because you were able to seduce him away from poor Lida, but I wouldn't get too comfortable. That boy moves fast. He was finished with me in less than a month."
Lily managed an artificial smile. "Well, I've already managed to break your record. We'll see how it goes."
Heather wrinkled her nose and sat back in her chair haughtily. Wonderful. At this rate she wouldn't be on speaking terms with any of the Ravenclaws in her year. Part of her felt bad for snapping at the girl so nastily, but, damn it, she was sick of people commenting on her relationship. It was none of their business if she and James were together for a minute or a year.
She wondered silently if this black-haired ninny with a pinched face was one of James' seven. And for fuck's sake why wasn't Lily number eight yet?
James returned with the punch and dropped a kiss to Lily's temple as he placed the glass before her. She was slightly mollified by the contact and by the surprised expression on Heather's face. Hestia had grinned behind her own punch glass at the exchange.
"Potter?" she turned to him abruptly.
He halted in bringing his glass up for a drink, his face displaying mild alarm. "Yes?"
"Do you dance?"
He winced, but nodded. Downing the punch like a shot, he rose to his feet. When he held his hand out to her, she bit her lip to keep from smiling. He was such a reluctant gentleman.
She took his hand and he led her to the dance floor. His stance was perfect and when he placed his hands in the precise position for a traditional waltz, she was unable to hold back a giggle.
"What?" he demanded.
"Somebody's mother made him take dancing lessons."
He rolled his eyes, but she almost couldn't tell because his mask was obscuring his face. "Worst five hours of my life."
"Yet you survived."
They glided over the dance floor smoothly. When there was a near misstep, it was hers, and he compensated appropriately to keep from losing the rhythm. Yet he did it all with a rather disinterested and mechanical air. He clearly hated dancing too much to ever be a proficient, but he was naturally too graceful and athletic to make a mess of it. Lily was envious. It had taken her far longer than five hours to learn how to dance.
"Tell your mother thank you. I haven't been twirled like this in a long time."
"And do you enjoy being twirled, Evans?" he asked as the colored leaves meandered through the air around him.
"What girl doesn't?" she simpered playfully. Then, her brows knit beneath her mask. "Why did you call me Evans?"
He shrugged. "Why do you call me Potter?"
"I do not—" she was cut off abruptly when someone bumped into her from behind. Whipping her head around, she froze when her eyes met with a young man dressed in functional black dressrobes and a crow mask.
They gaped at each other a moment before he bowed stingily. "Pardon me."
As he walked away, she heard James ask, "Was that Snivellus?"
"Yes," she said as she disengaged, stepping back from him. "And don't call him Snivellus," she added automatically.
James stared at her for a prolonged moment, a muscle in his jaw ticking slightly. She wondered if she should take her admonition back—after all, did she really care if he called that arse of a Death Eater an immature nickname?
"Of course, you're right Evans," his voice had a little more bite to it than she was used to, and she knew that he was actually angry. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to pop to the loo for a moment."
He led her back to the now empty table, but let go of her hand without preamble. He removed his mask and antlers quickly and placed them near his empty punch glass, while she groped for something to say. But she hesitated too long, at a complete loss, and he left.
She sat stiffly, her cheeks glowing. What had just happened? He had been fuming. That didn't happen, not ever. Or at least, never before. They bantered, they flirted, and they fought, but he was always teasing, always annoyingly resilient. Nothing she ever said seemed to make its way under his skin. Why now, why this moment? She must have told him not to call Severus 'Snivellus' a thousand times, but he had never reacted like this.
"Date over already?"
Lily looked up to see that Hestia had joined her. "He went to use the loo."
"Don't be embarrassed," she said, flopping her owl mask onto the table. "My date ditched me as well." She gestured with her head over to where Brian was engaged in a heated discussion with the head of Magical Law Enforcement. Hestia seemed more amused by the turn of events than anything.
"Hestia," Lily suddenly sat forward. "May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
She chewed her lip for a moment before blurting, "Have you heard any rumors about me lately?"
Hestia seemed mildly surprised by the question. "You mean like that you're a gold-digging slag, out to land a moneyed pure-blood even if it means shagging a bloke you can't stand? Or that you get off on stealing other girl's boyfriends?" Lily nodded, but Hestia kept going. "My personal favorite is the one where you've been steadily slipping James love potions for the past four years and you're planning on eloping with him after the term ends."
Lily couldn't imagine what her face must have looked like, but it was enough to make Hestia's grin deflate completely. "Almost no one believes them, Lily," she reassured. "I sure as hell don't. I mean, anyone who's met you would know that you couldn't seduce a carrot, let alone a bloke."
"Seduce a carrot? Why would anyone seduce a…." Oh.
Hestia patted her hand. "Chin up, Lil. We can't all be sirens."
Under normal circumstances, Lily would have felt the need to defend her flirtation skills. But when she thought of James and the bed she had yet to sleep in, she was inclined to agree. Clearly she was doing something wrong.
James splashed his face with water, leaning against the sink. He had to get a grip. What was he thinking, snapping at Lily like that? But then, what the hell was wrong with her, defending that prick even after their friendship had fallen apart years ago? That grimy, slimy, greasy bastard had some sort of unnatural hold over her.
Merlin, this battle was up hill. And he was a goddamned moron. The epiphany that had slapped him in the face on that dance floor was that he wanted more from Lily than she was probably capable of giving him. He didn't just want her to like him, want him, or care about him. He wanted her to like him best, wanted her to love him. Which was absurd and selfish. After all, it wasn't as though he loved her. He didn't think. Shit, wouldn't that be a fucking tragedy? If he fell in love and she…didn't.
Fabulous. Now he was depressed. He should just fuck her and be done with it. Waiting was just driving him crazy and making her frustrated. Besides, he would probably be able to walk away then.
He knew it made him the worst sort of cad, but he had a tendency to lose interest in a girl after a few shags. It was a propensity that Sirius called 'natural,' Remus called 'despicable,' and Peter called 'brilliant.' James was inclined to agree with Remus, but maybe this was exactly what he needed in this case. Get Lily out of his system and move on to the next available bird. At least that way he wouldn't end up with his heart Crucio-ed and spat on.
He wiped his face dry and slid his glasses back on. He stared at his reflection bitterly. Where the fuck were his priorities? Here he was nursing an impossible dream of a real relationship with Lily, when there was an irreplaceable memory in the making with his mates on the second floor.
His mind made up, he left the loo and, instead of taking the turn that led back to the party, headed up the stairs instead. He tiptoed past the Great Hall as quietly as he could, though he doubted anyone would have heard him regardless, what with the amount of noise coming from the feast.
The first floor was deserted and when he approached the flight that led up to the second, he pulled out his wand.
"Flagrate," he cast, his voice low. In the air he wrote 'Prongs,' and then waited.
He didn't have to wait for long to hear Peter's footsteps approach, quickly, as if he were excited.
"Prongs, you came!"
James took a step back and held his arms up defensively just in case Peter was planning to hug him. He made a shushing noise—really, Wormtail was supposed to be the undetectable guard.
Peter's head appeared in the air as he pulled back the hood of James' Invisibility Cloak. "Sirius has been cursing you for hours. We didn't think you'd come," he whispered.
"Did I miss it?"
Peter shook his head. "I don't think so. It took Sirius a bit to lure Peeves to the exact spot. We've only been in position for a few minutes. From what I can hear, Remus is having a lot of fun."
James smiled. He liked the sound of that.
"Give me the cloak," James held his hand out to his friend.
"But…"
"Cast a Disillusionment Charm on yourself," he instructed, cutting Peter off impatiently. "You only have to worry about not being seen by people, I have to sneak by Peeves and my Disillusionment Charms have never been the best."
Peter hesitated for a moment, but then pulled at the unseen ties at the neck of the Invisibility Cloak. Swinging it off his shoulders, he passed it to James.
"Padfoot is in position?" James asked.
Peter nodded.
"I'm going to join him—unless Moony needs help."
"All right."
"You've got the map?" James pulled the cloak over his face.
"Of course," Peter replied, pulling the Marauder's Map from his pocket.
James ruffled Peter's hair. "See you in a bit, Wormy."
He climbed the stairs slowly; it was of utmost importance that he made as little noise as possible. The plan was simple. Over the summer holiday, Moony had stumbled upon some Polyjuice Potion derivatives in his research of various magical transformations. One temporarily altered the appearance of spirits and non-corporeals, including wraiths, banshees, ghosts…and poltergeists. Since the concoction couldn't be ingested, the key ingredient was eel's bane, which made the fumes especially potent.
Next, they needed to find a way to keep Peeves still enough to be affected by the fumes. James and Sirius had scoured the Restricted Section for almost a month to find just the right spell that would temporarily bind Peeves. Hypatia's Circle would only hold for twenty minutes, but that should be more than enough time.
The overall objective was to use the Polyjuice derivative to make Peeves look like Filch, for an entire hour.
It seemed that James had already missed the first stage of the plan, in which Sirius, as Padfoot, would lure Peeves into the Hypatia's Circle already set in place by Remus and Peter down the second floor corridor. Then Remus would take position around a corner and his primary job would be to distract the poltergeist long enough for Sirius to lean out of the girl's loo where he was hidden and toss the potion phial so that it shattered inside the Circle, without being seen. Peter's job was to stand watch with the Map and send up a warning if anyone approached.
Really, this was troll's play compared to many of the schemes they had orchestrated in the past, and it seemed to be going well thus far. Or so it seemed until James reached the top of the stairs and Peeves came into view.
The poltergeist was ricocheting against the walls of his transparent prison, cursing and singing. Scattered on the ground near the Circle were the remains of what looked like three potion phials and the slop they had contained.
That wasn't good. Planning for every contingency, they had made five doses of the vital potion, just in case the person throwing the phials missed four times. At the time, James had been insulted by the precaution, and had thought two was more than enough. But that was when James was to be the one throwing the potions. When he had opted to go to the masque instead, Sirius had taken the role.
James had always known he had the better arm, but bloody hell, there was no excuse for this shit. He was going to have to increase his mate's training regimen if they were planning on winning any matches this year.
He made his way to the girl's loo, and softly telegraphed the secret knock before pushing the door open.
"Damn it, Wormtail, for the last time, get the fuck back to your post," Sirius was growling even before James had closed the door behind him.
"I hate it when he does that, too," James said as he slid the Invisibility Cloak off his shoulders.
"Prongs!"
James was on the receiving end of a hug. And then a right hook. It wasn't a full-blown punch, in fact, for Sirius it was downright playful. When he straightened up, James fought the urge to rub his jaw. Showing weakness in front of his best friend only served to encourage him.
"Thought I'd come up and see myself a poltergeist that looks like our esteemed nemesis, and damned if I don't find our carefully laid plans going all to cock. Can you manage nothing without me?" James fixed Sirius with the sternest expression he could manage.
"It would seem not," Sirius grinned, too exuberant that James had turned up to defend himself.
"Where are the other two phials?"
"I'll get them."
As Sirius moved to retrieve the potions, James saw the ghost of a young girl perched atop one of the sinks.
"Hello, Myrtle."
"Hello," she answered, seeming almost cheerful—for Myrtle. But then, Sirius had that effect on most females. "You're dressed up smart tonight, James."
He glanced down at his dressrobes. "Had a date," he explained.
"With that Evans girl he's always going on about," Sirius further elaborated.
"Oh," she said, recognition in her eyes. "How was it?"
"Can't have been going too well," Sirius interjected. "Not if he's here instead of snogging her in a dark corner somewhere."
James' jaw clenched a bit. Sirius was right, damn it all, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing. "It was going swimmingly, but I thought I'd pop by and see how my wayward mates were managing our caper."
Myrtle straitened a bit on her perch. "I never dated. Boys said that I was awkward and ugly."
"Wankers, the lot of them." Sirius stopped her before she could get herself worked up, his voice having taken on that quality it always did when he was charming a girl. "Besides, adolescent boys always pick on the girls they secretly like."
"You're making fun of me," Myrtle's lips moved into that particular pout that James knew meant trouble and overflowing toilets.
"Bollocks," Sirius scoffed, tossing James the two phials, which he caught easily. "I'm an adolescent boy, so I would know, yeah?" He looked to James for support.
Slipping one phial into his pocket and rolling the other over the back of his fingers in a parlor trick he had perfected years ago, James nodded. "It's true. I was dead rotten to Lily for years—pulled her hair, called her names, stole her quills. It was only because I wanted her to pay attention to me."
"See," Sirius gestured, as though that clinched it. "James is the expert on behaving like an arse." He then braced his arms on either side of the sink behind him, and lifted himself up onto it so that he was seated beside Myrtle.
James watched color of sort rise in Myrtle's face, and it took him a moment to realize that that she was blushing. "I'm just going to…throw this now," he said pulling on his Invisibility Cloak and turning toward the door. Sirius was a charmer—that was what he did. But there was something really weird about watching him do it to Myrtle.
Unlike Sirius, James didn't have to wait for Remus to signal a distraction. James had the Invisibility Cloak to keep Peeves from seeing his face. Of course, Peeves would naturally assume they were behind this—it had their style smeared all over it. But one thing the boys had learned about their school's resident poltergeist was that, if he saw you commit mischief, his memory was much, much longer than if he suspected you committed mischief. And Peeves' full and direct wrath was something to be avoided at all costs.
James pushed open the door and peeked out. Peeves was spitting in his rage, but James shut that out. He didn't see the poltergeist, he didn't hear it. All that existed in the whole world was the glowing red circle marking the perimeter of Peeves' temporary prison, and the glass phial in his hand. The circle was smaller than a Quidditch hoop, but then the potion was certainly smaller than a Quaffle.
He took a deep breath, and then threw the potion. The phial shattered right in the center of the circle, and James let loose the breath he had been holding, a smile curving his lips.
Lily was sitting alone at her table. Orsino and Heather were still dancing and Hestia had dragged Brian away from the Head of Magical Law Enforcement off to some secluded corner somewhere. No one had approached her in the past half hour. It was as though weighty gloom permeated from her, warding people off.
Ten minutes was reasonable, she supposed. Especially if he had been angry and needed to cool down. Twenty minutes was pushing it, perhaps, but would have been fine. But forty-five…. James had been gone for forty-five minutes.
Had she been ditched…chucked?
The people around her seemed to think so, she gathered from their too-loud whispers. It was humiliating, not the least for which that many of them were saying that she received no less than what she deserved.
Perhaps they were right.
Over the past two weeks, and quite particularly today, she had become more and more aware of the rumors that followed her and more and more bothered by them. As she traced patterns on her napkin with her finger, Lily glumly admitted to herself why that was so. They bothered her because there was truth to them. No, she was not after James' money, but she may as well have been. Her reasons for initiating the relationship were every bit as superficial. No, she had not set out to steal another witch's man, but she had behaved like a tart. She had seduced him, used her body to reel him in, and daily she practically begged him to take that part of her completely. Meanwhile she withheld any emotional bond. So no, these people did not have the story straight, but the picture of her they were painting wasn't off base either.
But it wasn't working so well, obviously. The not getting emotionally attached part. If it were, she would not be brimming with tears in public when faced with evidence that James had decided she wasn't worth the effort.
She was an arrogant little chit, that's what she was. It was a difficult thing to admit, but one of the reasons she had selected James in the first place had been that she was sure he would be at her feet with a crook of her finger. He had wanted her for ages, begged her to date him. She had been searching for someone who would treat her like a goddess, put her ahead of everything and everyone else. Someone who would regard it a privilege to date her.
She had wanted the opposite of Severus, who had put so much ahead of her. Who treated her as though her opinions were silly and uninformed. Who understood her and what she needed so little that he thought becoming a Death Eater was the best way to protect her.
But James was nothing like she had predicted, and he certainly didn't treat her like she was anything more or less special than a young schoolgirl with a battered ego and a wounded heart. She had thought she would have all the power, and yet here she sat, alone and mortified in front of her peers and mentors.
She let the tears that had been pooling in her eyes fall. After all, no one would be able to see them with her mask in the way.
Lily had taken James for granted before they had even started dating. Perhaps she had always taken him for granted; there had never been any hurry to get over her pride and agree to go out with him, because he would always ask her again next week. He would always be waiting for her, and when she was ready, he would take her.
Well, James had certainly repaid her for that overconfidence tonight.
The voices around her suddenly became louder and more excited. As soon as Lily registered that, she knew that a new topic had taken over.
"…like Filch?"
"Yes, it's brilliant. Filch has Pettigrew and Black, but he can't find anything on them to prove that they had anything to do with it. You've got to come see this."
Ah. So his friends had staged an exhibition of jackassery and he had gone to join. For that she had endured a triumphant smirk from Heather Tillney, a pitying glance from Slughorn, and knowing sneer from Severus.
She was startled when she felt a pair of lips press into her temple near the edge of her mask. James had appeared at her side.
"Sorry about that, love," he said, his eyes full of sincerity. "Some poor sod was sick, and I had to take him up to the Hospital Wing. Pomfrey thinks he may have had an allergic reaction to the dates in the biscuits. She sent me to owl his wife."
Lily just stared at him. This wasn't real—he wasn't real.
"Would you like to finish that dance?" he asked with an apologetic smile.
He was gazing at her the way he might if he'd had a legitimate reason to be detained. He was lying, and there was nothing about his demeanor that gave him away. His hands weren't fidgeting, his eyes weren't darting this way and that to avoid her gaze, and there was no rising color on his neck or face. There was nothing…nothing telling her that he was lying except the fact that she had just heard that two of his friends had just been taken to Filch's offices following a massive prank.
She had forgotten—it was easy to forget. When he teased, it was a simple matter to tell what was truth and what was utter bollocks. But this boy knew how to lie. He did it well; he did it often. And he was doing it to her right now.
James seemed to sense that something was wrong, because he began to study her face more closely. "Lily," his voice became alarmed. "Have you been crying?"
She couldn't do this. Not right now, when she was ready to start bawling. She wouldn't show him any more weakness than she already had.
Lily rose from the table, and left James behind.
Author's Note: Fun fact: writing this chapter was a bitch. James chose this installment to be difficult. I suppose he was due—everyone else but him had given me a hard time, so it was his turn.
As always, thanks goes out to my beta pili204. This time I would like to give a special shout-out to my brother Josh, who gave me so many ideas for this chapter, and whose credit is overdue for chapter 5; originally it had a very different ending, but he was like, "No, no. Have her puke all over him." And last but far from least, thanks to my reviewers. Don't get me wrong—readers are wonderful, but readers who review, too…are just better.
