So you may have noticed that I lied when I said the latest chapter of Two Birds was going to be my last for a while... Because now I've posted two new installments of The Man Behind The Mask! That's what happens when you have 3 hours of time to kill in an airport, and then 5 more hours on the plane. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labors, and I hope I'll get to update pretty soon. Thanks for reading!

- Lorraine

CHAPTER 11

When he spoke, James was so close that Lily jumped, turning to find him only a couple feet away. "The water's enchanted to become your favorite drink once you catch it in a glass," he said. "Strictly non-alcoholic, of course," he smiled at Lily, who was staring open-mouthed at the extremely handsome youth next to her.

"You look… Uhh, well, that is to say… Err, you clean up pretty nice, Potter," she stammered, trying not to drool as she took in his lovely Quidditch-toned body encased in a pitch-black Muggle tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and jaunty bow-tie. His hair was as messy as ever, and Lily was impossibly attracted to the boy's insousiance. She breathed in deeply through her nose, intending to clear her head, but she only served to muddle her thoughts further when she caught a whiff of his intoxicating scent, a mix of cinnamon and Bailey's Irish Cream. She closed her eyes for a moment to savor it, and then remembered that the object of her sniffing was standing right in front of her, staring at her face. She quickly looked up at James, and smiled uncertainly, unable to make eye contact.

"You're not so bad yourself, Evans." He gave her a crooked grin in return, for his own part trying not to focus on the mouthwatering expanses of Lily's creamy smooth skin that were currently on display. When he'd first walked into the Great Hall and noticed her standing near the fountain, he stopped in his tracks, shocked that the usually prim Lily would wear such a daring dress. It fit her like a dream: the clinging fabric showed off her subtle curves, and its backless nature had James nearly running for the closest cold shower; teal was fast becoming one of his favorite colors. Merlin, she's beautiful! he mused inwardly, gazing at her face. He loved that she wasn't one of those birds to wear pounds of makeup; she simply wouldn't be Lily if he couldn't count the band of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and her naturally rose-colored lips were quite enticing enough without layers of tint and gloss. He detected nervousness in her bottle-green eyes, and he winked to cheer her up. His behavior only caused her to roll her eyes, but this expression was much more welcome to James—after all, it was familiar.

Unnerved by the intensity of James' gaze, Lily started to break the silence with some praise of the decorations just as Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall entered the Hall.

"Ah, Miss Evans, Mr. Potter! You make quite the handsome pair," the Headmaster exclaimed, beaming at his two Head Students—he chuckled as James grinned and Lily flushed to her roots. "I am particularly impressed, James, that you managed to do up that bowtie. I've never been able to master that particular Muggle contraption, but if I would look half so good as you I suppose it would be worth the practice." Now it was James' turn to blush, and McGonagall frowned at Dumbledore's penchant for playing favorites. As if sensing her discomfort, the old wizard turned to her, blue eyes twinkling, and laughed. "Ah, Minerva, am I being to cheerful again? I know your constitution can't stand it," the deputy Headmistress pursed her lips, and her colleague barely suppressed a grin. "Shall we move on to business?"

McGonagall nodded curtly and turned to James and Lily, looking as professional as ever in dark maroon dress robes (especially compared to Dumbledore's more extravagant costume of violet robes with swirling silver patterning from collar to hem), and speaking crisply in her light Scottish brogue. "Right. Potter, Evans, as Head Students you are required to preside over the other students and make sure that nothing is amiss. There are no specific duties that fall to you for the evening, other than to set an example in terms of conduct for your fellow pupils. As this ball was your idea, you are not expected to share the customary first dance—"

"Unless you should wish to, of course" Dumbledore interjected, earning an admonishing glare from McGonagall.

"Quite. Do either of you have any questions?" Both Gryffindors shook their heads. "Excellent," she said, checking her watch. "It is now a quarter to eight, so if you would like to go and find your friends, you may enter with the rest of the students." Lily and James, surprised that their Head of House was requiring so little ceremony, quickly withdrew before she could change her mind.

"Don't forget your masks!" Dumbledore called after them, beaming and flourishing the very one Lily and James had seen him conjure in his office. "It is, after all, a Masquerade."

"Albus, would you be so kind as to help me with the sound system?" McGonagall said sharply. Dumbledore gave them one last wink, and raised his wand to produce several large, floating gramophones. The Head Students laughed at the banter of their teachers, and exited the Great Hall.

Once in the entranceway—surprisingly still empty—James and Lily stood awkwardly for a moment, both wanting to go and join their mates, but not sure what was going on in the other's head. Finally, James spoke up. "So… save me a dance, Evans? I guess you can't help it this time, since you won't know it's me."

"I don't know, Potter, I think you'll probably stand out," Lily said, and then blushed at the implication of her statement. James raised his eyebrows, but decided not to comment. His plan definitely wouldn't work if she were angry with him.

Trying to end the uncomfortable silence, both students spoke at the same time.

"Well, I ought to go find the lads—"

"I should meet Lucy—"

They laughed at themselves, and then Lily turned towards Gryffindor Tower just as James set off to the kitchens, causing them to stumble into each other. Lily gasped at the sensation of falling, but James' sturdy embrace caught her before she could do any damage. He grinned wolfishly down at her. "Watch it, Evans." She had to clench her fists to keep from grabbing his lapels and snogging the life out of him. He set her on her feet, and quickly pecked her on the temple, whispering, "You look beautiful," before smiling softly and hastening down the corridor away from her.

Before Lily could gather her thoughts, James was out of sight. She simply shook her head and walked somewhat unsteadily in the opposite direction. It's just the shoes, she told herself furiously. It has nothing whatsoever to do with Potter.

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