Author's Note: So, I know this kinda took a while. Not only did I have to update the other stories first, but I've been semi-busy and have had sort of a hard time writing this one. I don't know if it has anything or much to do with it being hard to write, but my life's got a whole bunch of pain in it right now. And I don't know when, or if, everything's going to get better. :/. But at least I may have some faithful readers! Anyway, I hope you enjoy and maybe review? But don't pretend to like it just because of my sob story, please. ;). First person chapter.
"What?"
Lily's eyes were wide with surprise, and she was blinking rapidly.
James repeated his question calmly. "Will you go out with me?"
It seemed interesting to me that James would be the calm one. He was the one performing the frightful task of asking someone out. But no. James was the only calm, cool, and collected individual in the area.
Or at least he was acting that way.
James decided to ask Lily out in the middle of a corridor full of people, all of whom stopped their journeys to class, lunch, their respective common rooms, wherever they were headed. To witness this.
Lily glanced around her, probably aware that she was going to be talked about, whatever her answer.
"I…" She cleared her throat. Her eyes, once wide, were now narrowed. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"Not at all," said James, smiling that charming smile of his.
I kept my eyes moving. James to Lily to James to Lily over and over and over. I wasn't sure what was about to happen. I knew that Lily frequently complained about James, but perhaps this was a pleasant surprise for her. If she did say yes, surely it was my job to be happy for James? But I wasn't so sure I would be.
But then if she said no, and I ended up pleased, would that make me a terrible friend?
And didn't I want the boy I loved to be happy, even if it would not be with me?
"No!"
The mouths of some girls actually fell open, staring at Lily. She actually rejected James Potter, a boy fancied by so many. A boy who had chosen her. It was unbelievable to them.
"No," James repeated. "No, you will not go out with me?"
Lily looked at James with a mixture of irritation and disbelief. Then, she turned to me (right beside James, of course) and gave me a questioning "is-he-serious?" look. I only smiled slightly.
Looking back at James, she said, "It's a no, Potter. An absolute no!"
Without another word, she took off, faster than she had been walking before.
James turned to me with a—yes—smile on his face. Despite being rejected by his long-time crush, James Potter was smiling.
It was actually somewhat a smirk.
Either way, it had my head spinning. From both confusion and…well…I won't even mention it.
I had to ask.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
The boys who had been standing around had left, along with some of the girls, but there was still a large group of girls packing the corridor.
"She'll come around," said James with a wink. "Come on. We're about to be late for Potions." He started walking again and gestured that we should follow him.
Remus snorted, but seemed happy to be moving again. "You couldn't care less about that, James. You just want to talk about this without eavesdroppers."
"Don't question my motives," said James, laughing.
….
It was an odd sort of day. James had asked Lily out, been turned down, and it seemed half the whole school was aware. Yet, James wasn't worried, and he certainly was not showing any sort of unhappiness. In fact, he seemed rather excited.
According to his explanations, James seemed to think that Lily turning him down worked sort of in his favor. If he continued to ask her even when she said no, it would show her that it was not an offhand request. It would show her that he was determined to get her.
And apparently, it would be fun. Apparently, it would be an adventure.
Somehow I didn't think it was going to be all that fun for me. For a number of reasons. I hoped I wouldn't lose Lily as a friend.
Lily was the only topic discussed through Potions, through Defense Against the Dark Arts, all the way to our dormitory.
I was almost thankful when James had to go to Quidditch practice because I couldn't take another damn minute of Evans this and Evans that.
"The only thing that irks me," said James, leaning against his broomstick in the doorway, "is that she lets some nasty Slytherin in, and then she hates me."
I turned away from James, choosing to look at the ceiling above my bed instead. I couldn't handle his eyes or smile anymore. "I don't know, James. Like you said, give it time."
"You'll help me, though? Right?"
"Sure."
And then he left. And I was finally going to have a minute to myself, finally not have to listen to any talk about Lily for however long Quidditch practice and the journey there and back took. But I was to help James get with his dream girl, however I was supposed to do that, and potentially be the one (or one of the people) to end my chance with him.
Not that I had a chance anyway.
It had been about a week since my kiss discussion with James, and keeping my feelings to myself was somehow a little exciting, but otherwise haunting. If I never got to do anything with my feelings, how would they ever disappear? And I couldn't very easily be in love with James for the rest of my life.
If I were to tell James how I felt about him, it perhaps would do no good, other than having the secret out there and off my chest. I would say that the feelings would certainly not be returned, but apparently I did not have the guts to admit that to myself.
And if he knew, he would probably wonder all the time—at least internally, if he never asked aloud—if they were gone yet.
Is Sirius still interested in me?
Has Sirius gotten over it yet?
And if he were to ask me, I would have to keep telling him no, unless I was okay with lying. And if I was going to end up lying, why tell him in the first place? And surely those lies would haunt me the same way this would, perhaps even worse?
There was more than one reason for me to be concerned about hiding this from James. But I couldn't deny this as one of them…We weren't supposed to have secrets. Did this one count?
"Sirius?"
Remus' voice came up gently. My eyes remained on the ceiling when I answered him. "Yeah?"
"Umm…" He paused. I was just maybe curious. "Well, if you want to talk…"
I turned my entire body to face Remus and Peter, leaning on my elbow. "What do you mean?"
Remus smiled kindly. Peter looked rather impatient.
"About what's happening with James," said Remus.
Before I could answer, Peter shouted, "We know!"
Remus closed his eyes and shook his head, a small smile on his face. After he had opened them, he said calmly, "What Peter means to say—a little early—is we know about your—your feelings for James."
I tried my best to keep my cool. "Feelings?"
"Yeah, I made sure Peter didn't mention it to you in front of James. This is one of the first times we've gotten a chance and…well, I guess it makes sense now with what happened today," said Remus, using that gentle, kind voice of his.
Denial seemed about right.
"I don't have feelings for James," I said. "Just friendship."
Remus gave me that knowing smile. "I see the way you look at him. It's very obvious."
Giving up the façade, I asked the question that immediately came to me. "Is it obvious to him?"
Remus chuckled. "Nah. He's got no idea, trust me."
I decided that taking advantage of their knowledge by talking would be more useful than denial anyway. But it was still somewhat uncomfortable, so I avoided their eyes.
"Do you—I mean, is it wrong, you think, for me to keep it from him?"
"No," they answered together.
"I mean, I don't know, Sirius," Remus continued. "It might make things uncomfortable for him. And to be honest…what would telling him really do?"
"He's straight," Peter added.
As if I didn't already understand what Remus was trying to say. That James would not feel that way about me.
"What's there to talk about?" I asked, feeling rather down.
"Well, I'm sure this isn't easy for you, mate," said Remus. "You have feelings for your straight best friend who has feelings for someone else, who by the way, is also your friend. And you're supposed to help him get with her."
"I know the situation," I said quietly.
But it just had to be pounded into my head.
"So, if you ever do want to talk, you can talk to us."
"I appreciate it."
And I did appreciate it. I truthfully had the best friends I could have ever asked for. They made my somewhat stressful, confusing life better. They made me stop wishing I had never been born. They made me happier.
….
When James returned after about two hours, nothing further had been discussed. That is to say, nothing about the James situation was further discussed with me. Remus and Peter talked to each other about various things, laughing every once in a while, but they left me alone to my thoughts.
James came in, looking exhausted, but content. His pants were muddy to the knees. He collapsed onto his bed on his stomach.
"I love that game," he said cheerfully.
I shook my head at him, but a grin came naturally to my face. "You're going to get your bed so nasty."
James snorted. "Little dirt never hurt anyone."
I shrugged. "I guess. But I wouldn't want to sleep in a pool of mud, personally."
Remus laughed. "You're a pig, James. Go take a shower and change."
James flipped over to his back. "I'll shower," he said, "but the damage to my bed has been do—" He stopped short, and I looked at him curiously, but he was staring at the window. I followed his gaze.
An owl was making its way closer and closer to our window.
"Ten galleons that's my mum," said James.
Sure enough, when the owl got close enough to identify, we knew it belonged to Mrs. Potter. James got up to open the window before the owl had to tap and pet the owl absentmindedly while reading the letter it carried.
I then witnessed something I never had before. James tore up his letter, looking extremely put out. James was only human, and like he had once told me, he wasn't happy "all the time." But any time I had ever seen him remotely unhappy, it faded very quickly. It was an irritated roll of the eyes, a quick darkening in them, a sigh, or maybe something else. But that would be essentially it. A quick gesture, then a smile, a laugh, or a "forget it."
But this time, it lasted more than a moment. His eyes showed pain, but the rest of him showed anger.
Though there was no wild and odd exclamation from James, it was as if there had been. It seemed that I was not the only one who noticed the abrupt change in James' behavior, not just from the moment before, but from the James we had always known.
James finally noticed that we were all staring. He shrugged, but he didn't smile. "Mum just drives me crazy sometimes."
This was normal. I mean, for most people. I could certainly relate to a mother driving her son crazy. And if I had just met James about an hour before this, it would perhaps be nothing unusual. Maybe uncomfortable. But probably not abnormal.
But for James, it was abnormal.
But maybe it wasn't? Could it be that he always reacted this way when he read letters from his mother? We weren't always there, were we?
James sat back down on the end of his bed for only a second before rising again. "I'm going to shower," he mumbled.
When he went into the bathroom, he closed the door just a tad roughly behind him, gentle enough to seem normal, but hard enough for me to know it was not.
Author's Note: Kind of on the short side. And I don't know how good you found it. :/. The Good will be next.
