There's no sign of either of them for the next few days, Caroline or James, and Remus still steadfastly avoids eye contact when they pass in the dorm. Peter waves once from across the quad, a brief head nod and a raise of one hand, but when she crosses paths with Sirius on the way to class, he looks right over her as if he's never seen her in his life.
And that's alright. For that week or so, things were too loud, too crazy, too hard to deal with—so Lily's grateful for the break. Grateful she doesn't have to worry about textbooks flying at her head or furniture speeding around the room or some ghost and his friend spitting words that sound just this side of threats.
Instead, she can go back to focusing on her grades, which she needs to. After last year's less-than-rousing performance, Dean McGonagall had let her know in no uncertain terms that she'd have to step it up in order to keep her scholarship, forget the fact that if she was on academic probation two semesters in a row she might face a semester-long suspension or even expulsion.
So she goes to class, even Mackey's, and keeps her head down, studying in her spare time and taking a break from all ghostly related matters. Sure, she spots one here or there—including that junior's dad who's been following her around since his heart attack last year, but he's just worried about her staying on track for graduation and there's not much Lily can do about that for another year or so—but for the most part there's a bit of a hiatus on haunting.
For the first time, she actually passes a micro exam. With a B-, no less, which is a full letter-grade higher than the "just scraping by" she'd been desperately hoping for. Sure, it's the second time she's taken this particular exam—it's nearly identical to the one from last year, even if the specific details of the questions have been tweaked—but seeing how profoundly terrible she'd done then it was still something to be proud of.
She even lets Marlene drag her out when Friday rolls back around, heading out to Marlene's sorority sister's dorm room to pregame, and it's going well until Marlene's friend says, "Ready to head out? I hear Omega Rho's throwing their first big party of the year and I want to get there before it fills up."
It's not that Lily has a problem with frat parties—well, she does, since they tend to be way too crowded and hot with all of the kids squeezed into the too-small houses—as much as it is the specific party. Because Omega Rho is the fraternity that James Potter and his friends are (were?) part of—meaning it's home to one boy who'd probably rather not be associated with her in public, two boys actively pretending she doesn't exist, and, best of all, one fairly unfriendly ghost.
But one of the guys—Aaron or Adam or something—speaks up before she can gather the nerve to say anything, and Lily can feel that breath caught in her chest loosen into a relieved sigh.
"Doesn't Omega Rho, like, suck now?"
"Don't you suck now?" spits back one of the other guys as the girl whose room it is, Amy, rolls her eyes.
"They don't suck, the seniors just checked out a little earlier than usual," Amy explains, pouring out one last round of shots. "But I know the guy who's president now and he says it's going to be a huge blowout."
Huge blowout is what most of the campus has come to expect from Omega Rho. Their parties are some of the biggest around, and as the most popular frat on campus, they typically have access to the best student DJs, bartenders, whatever they need. Only the seniors are typically in charge of running things, and considering what happened to James Potter over the summer, this year's seniors are notably less enthusiastic than those in year's past.
It doesn't help that James's end of the year party this past May had psyched everyone up for the traditional orientation kickoff Omega Rho threw, but when August rolled back around Sirius was avoiding pretty much everyone, Remus had moved out of the house and into his RA dorm, and Peter… Well, Peter had been less of the mastermind and more of the guy who always seemed to have a joint on hand. Or at least that's what Lily had heard.
They weren't the only seniors, but they'd been the de facto leaders of their pledge class, and no one else seemed to have really stepped up in their place. Until now, at least.
"So what's the theme then?"
That was the other thing Omega Rho was known for. Whether they were fun or kitschy or sexy or sloppy, the ORhos always had a theme going that they strictly adhered to in costumes, decoration, music, drinks—pretty much everything.
"Some kind of geek chic thing, I didn't get the full details," Amy supplies, shrugging. "They're not being super strict about it this time since it's sort of last minute."
Still, the strictness is a good excuse, the best Lily has, and she gloms onto it immediately.
"Um, I don't know if I'm exactly dressed for geek chic." She goes for a breezy tone, but chances are it lands closer to distressed than she'd like.
Amy glances over, appraising Lily's romper, cardigan, and fishtail braid. "I dunno—I think that would probably work fine. Better if you had fake glasses or something, but whatever."
"Fake glasses!" Because that seems like the answer, suddenly. "I've got some back in my dorm that I can go grab. And then I can change anyway." Or, more likely, ditch the group and go to some other party (or just stay in entirely).
It's the perfect plan until Marlene says, "Actually, I'll go with you. I have this pair of suspenders I've been holding onto since high school." And then Lily's trapped.
Before she knows it, she's walking up to the Omega Rho house with Marlene and Amy and Aaron (as it turns out), plus the two other guys and the girl they'd pregamed with, 3D glasses with the lenses punched out sliding down the bridge of her nose.
She's dressed to theme in a black pencil skirt, sleeveless collared blouse and converse, crossbody purse dangling from one shoulder, but still it feels like they might kick her out the moment she steps inside. She wouldn't be incredibly surprised if Sirius already plastered the house with flyers that say "Lily Evans, avoid at all costs, do not engage."
But Amy walks in, then the three boys, then Amy's other friend, and finally Marlene hooks her arm through Lily's and nobody bars the doorway as they cross the threshold. So that's something.
They get a drink in the kitchen and hit the dance floor, then head back for a second cup and a third and soon Lily's excusing herself to find the bathroom, wobbling her way up the narrow stairs of the house with a fourth cup in hand, charging past the second floor landing and up to the third when she sees the line. Up here, it's empty except for what might be a couple tucked away in one of the bedrooms, but she doesn't stop to investigate until after she's done, only then taking stock of the framed composite photos on the wall.
Smack dab in the middle of the photo is James, his picture slightly larger than the rest in the executive board line-up, but Remus is right to his side as Treasurer and Sirius is down at the end of the line as Social Chair. Of its own accord, her hand raises to reach out and touch the glass protecting the picture.
"What are you doing?"
She jerks back, stumbles away before her fingerprints can so much as leave a smudge on the frame, nearly falls over as she spins to see who's speaking, but James reaches out and catches an elbow before she manages to topple over entirely or spill her still-full drink all down her front. Suddenly, those first three drinks are feeling stronger than they seemed, and he tilts sideways for a second before fixing back into place in her vision.
"Um—" she starts, cut off by his, "God, this isn't part of your stupid mediating thing, is it?"
"Well—" she tries again, interrupted by his, "Can you just lay off tonight, please?"
Only then does she nod, hiccup, and finally he frowns as he takes her in—fake glasses, unravelling braid, red cup and all.
"Are you drunk?"
In lieu of an answer, she scrunches up her nose at him, shoulders tightening and raising higher towards her ears in some amalgamation of a shrug that she refuses to accept as an admission of anything.
"What are you doing here?"
This one is easier to answer, at least.
"My friend Marlene dragged me out. Her friend Amy is friends with your new president or something," Lily explains.
"Jared?"
"I don't know."
"So no mediating tonight?"
"Um, not unless you, like, need anything?" She cringes even as she says it, but can't help herself from continuing, "I mean, did you figure out why you're still here yet? Or whatever? 'Cause otherwise I'm"—she hiccups again—"still on the case."
He's giving her that funny look again, brow wrinkling, but someone's coming up the stairs, so instead of whatever he was going to say, he nods towards one of the closed doors and asks, "Do you want to get some air? So you don't seem like you're wasted and talking to yourself and need the campus EMTs to come cart you off?"
She'd glare, but he's right. Drunk, holding another full cup, on the out-of-bounds third floor and having a conversation with seemingly no one—well, she couldn't exactly blame someone for thinking she was just this side of alcohol poisoning.
So she shrugs again, then nods, and he leads her to the door. Beyond it is a bedroom, empty save for the bare, stock furniture that likely came already furnished, and then beyond the bedroom a window that leads out onto the roof. He climbs out first, then steadies her as she follows, sloshing only a little punch over the side of the cup as they sit down.
"So—" she starts at the same time he blurts, "I'm really sorry."
"What?"
"For losing control. Twice," he clarifies, staring off into the neighborhood and rifling a hand through his hair, and she shifts to fully face him instead of just sitting side-by-side. "I shouldn't have gotten so pissed—and I get why you think ghosts can't just be hanging around now, or whatever. Especially after talking to Caroline and hearing about that whole earthquake thing."
"Um," she manages, but doesn't get very far before he's continuing.
"I'm gonna be a lot more careful. And Caroline is, too. So I get it, okay?"
He's still not quite looking at her, but it's clear this is something he's rehearsed or at least thought through, and she squirms in her seat when he finally turns to actually face her, eyes blazing behind his glasses.
"So. Are we cool? Can we call a truce? You're not going to try to exorcise me or anything?"
"We're cool," she squeaks. "And, you know, just so you know, I only ever exorcise, like, really dangerous ghosts."
"What about Caroline?"
"Um, I'm not sure yet. I don't think she's trying to be dangerous, exactly, but she really freaked out at me last time."
"I'm going to work with her on that. Just—be careful with that guy, okay? She hasn't given me the whole story, but it seems like bad news."
The bad news is that Caroline couldn't control herself with Mackey when she was alive and still can't now that she's dead, but Lily elects to keep that to herself. Caroline apologized and Lily'll give her one final shot, but after that… Lily hopes they don't get that far.
But she just nods, and then takes a long sip of her drink before holding the cup out to James.
"Is that a joke?" he asks, jutting his chin out at the offering before looking back up at her.
"Um, no?" She takes another sip, then holds it back out. "I mean, it's not exactly an artisan cocktail but—"
"I'm a ghost," he scoffs, as if she needs any reminding, and then she gets it.
"Wait, you know that you can still drink and eat and stuff if you want, right?"
He still looks like he doesn't believe it—and like he's a little pissed that she'd even joke about it, eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted with scorn. "Are you fucking with me?"
"No!" She shoves the cup towards him, a little more sloshing over the side. "Ghosts can eat and drink! I mean, they don't need to, obviously, and it's harder to get drunk or full or whatever, but they can if they want. Didn't you ever read about people like leaving offerings and stuff at graves for their ancestors? Or people who leave little shots and candies at Marie Laveau's tomb in New Orleans?"
"I mean, yeah, sure," he admits slowly, eying the cup like something might hop out of it unexpectedly. "But I just figured that was superstitious bullshit or whatever."
"And you, a ghost, are totally unrelated to superstitious bullshit?"
She grins, shakes the cup a little, and finally he takes it. His first sip is hesitant, as if testing the waters, like maybe he expects that it'll puddle underneath him on the roof—and it could, if he wanted it to—and then, apparently satisfied, he downs the rest.
"Holy shit," he says, and then leans back on his elbows on the roof tiles. "Why didn't I know about this like two months ago."
"Sirius not up to date on his lore?" she suggests, leaning back to mimick his pose.
"Sirius doesn't know shit," he answers, but despite his answering grin Lily can see that flicker of something in his eyes. She makes a mental note to ask about it later, but with him smiling at her, with things going okay, she doesn't want to push it now.
What she does do is push herself back up into a sitting position and ask, "Want another? I can go get some from downstairs."
"Nah, let me," he says and disappears, shimmering back into place a few moments later with two more full cups.
She reaches out to take one when he offers, and studies him for a second. "You should be more careful, you know," she says between sips. "People tend to freak out when two cups mysteriously fill themselves and then wink out of existence or whatever."
"Please, people here are too drunk to notice—or for anyone else to believe them, at least."
Her phone vibrates in her bag resting against her hip, and she slips it out to check the message preview on the screen—"Where are you?" from Marlene—but silences it and slides it back into her purse instead of answering.
"So. Some party, huh?" she asks, holding up her cup in some sort of half-hearted toast before taking another drink.
"Are you kidding? This party sucks."
"But the punch is good! And everyone was dancing and stuff downstairs!" And two people even privately retired to a bedroom upstairs, she thinks, but doesn't say.
"Yeah, but Office Hoes and CEOs? That's the best they could do for a theme?"
If Lily weren't so affronted, she'd burst out laughing. "Wait, that's the theme? You're telling me I'm an office hoe right now?"
He glances over, takes in her outfit again, and then shakes his head, grinning. "Your skirt's practically to your knees; you're definitely the CEO."
And then she does laugh, reaching out to shove his shoulder, and he winks.
"Why, what are you dressed for?"
"Marlene's friend said it was geek-chic. I mean, it's no get lit—"
"Get Lit-erary!" he corrects, and she laughs again. "And that was genius, by the way—not even taking into account the fact that it was my idea. Were you there?"
She nods, thinking of the end of the year party from the year before. Classes were over, there was half a week until finals, and Marlene hadn't taken no for an answer after finishing her final painting. She doesn't remember seeing James there, only Sirius (dressed, of course, as Dorian Grey-Goose), but he must've been considering it was his party.
"Oh, I went all out," she teases.
"Oh yeah? And what were you?"
"Sophie, naturally, and I brought my BFG."
"Big friendly giant?"
"Big flask of gin."
That gets a laugh out of him, and she beams at the sound of it.
"And what were you, Catcher in the Rye Whiskey or something?"
"Please, my costume was way better than that," he brags. "We did Goodnight Moonshine."
"You were the moon?"
"Remus was the moon," he corrects, smirking. "We doused him in body glitter and everything. I was the little bunny in PJs."
"Oh, of course," she laughs. "I don't know how I didn't guess that. And Peter?"
"Hops on Pop," he explains, then grimaces. "He kept mixing beer with mountain dew all night." He takes another long drink, then looks down at his empty cup and holds it out to her. "Speaking of—want one?"
"A beer and mountain dew?"
"Why, you like the sound of that?" he asks, one eyebrow up, then disappears.
They go through two or three more cups and it's not long before Lily is loose and slurring her words, laid all the way back on the roof with her converse kicked off beside her and ther toes wiggling in the night air and her eyes on the stars.
It's quiet now—neither of them has said anything in a few minutes, and whatever stragglers are left downstairs have long since turned the music off. Lily's eyes are just starting to droop closed when he speaks up.
"I'm glad we have a truce," he says quietly, and his voice is steadier than hers would be. Despite the factors working against him—not pre-gaming, having a higher tolerance, being a ghost—he's almost as drunk as she is, and maybe that has something to do with not drinking since before he died, or maybe he's just been sneaking away to refill his cup when she hasn't noticed.
"Because I told you about drinking?" Somehow the words come out clear enough, despite how heavy her tongue is in her mouth and the way a yawn is catching at the back of her throat.
"Well, yeah. That too. But also because you know I'm here. Sirius is my best friend, but…" He falls silent for a minute, and she looks over, peeking an eye open, in time to see his shrug. "It kind of sucks only having one person to talk to."
She rolls over onto her side to look at him, really look at him, then reaches out to pinch his arm until her turns to look back at her.
"You know that's all I meant, right?"
"When?"
"In my room," she explains, and it takes more work than she expects to make sure her words come out strong instead of sloppy. "I didn't mean—obviously no one likes being dead. Just… for other people they don't really have any– anyone that can see them but me."
He turns his head back to look at the stars, and her fingers curl in the sleeve of his shirt in an effort to keep his attention.
"Most people wan– want to move on to whatever's next, because it's better than just being here by yourself forever. But I get that with Sirius it's diff'rent." He sighs, a deep, heavy sound, but she keeps going. "'N I'm not gonna make you move on before you're ready. But I'm gonna find out what's keeping you– keeping you here. One day. Okay?"
He sets his jaw, nods, then rolls over onto his hands and knees and climbs back through the window they came out of. "All right, Red," he says, and sticks a hand back out to pull her in after him. "Let's walk you home."