Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.
James lay down on the sofa, his head leaning against the arm and his feet propped up by some fluffy pillows. No one was around. Lily had gone to the library, with a reluctant Hestia tagging along. And the others were at lunch, grimacing as Sirius ate voraciously.
In other words, he was alone, with only his thoughts to occupy him…
"Potter!"
James turned around and immediately caught sight of McGonagall, her normally tight bun askew and her books balanced precariously on her left arm, walking in a fast trot towards him.
"Professor?" he asked.
"I have talked to Professor Dumbledore," she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and tried to keep her voice level through all the panting. "He says that you may be allowed to practice Quidditch, through supervision by Madam Hooch,"
"Oh!" James was able to say.
"Well?" McGonagall narrowed her eyes. She didn't get the happiness and joy that she had expected from him. "You may use the Quidditch Pitch, but it will be decreased from five times to three times a week, and the match is to be held a week early."
"A week early?" James asked incredulously. "We get three days a week for practice and the match is a week early?"
"Precautions, Potter," McGongall said sternly. "Precautions. Now are you going to schedule your practices or are you just going to stand there? I know how important this match is to you,"
"Um, well…. Sorry, Professor," James said awkwardly.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I'm not going to schedule the practices,"
"WHAT?" McGonagall yelled, and blushed slightly as people in the hall began to stare at her. "Potter, I've gone through all that to get you a few days of practice, and you refuse? What sort of nonsense is this?"
"Well, sorry, Professor, I just don't want to practice on the Quidditch field!" and without another word, James turned on his heel and walked over to his next class, grinning to himself as McGonagall registered what he had just said.
"Don't want to practice on the Quidditch field…?" McGonagall murmured to herself. James could practically see her eyes widen in realization. "POTTER! WHAT IN THE NAME OF-" she screeched. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO BE PRACTICING?"
But James had already thrown open the door to the Charms classroom, and shut it in her face.
James chuckled to himself. He had caught McGonagall in a wide net of curiosity and confusion, not to mention anger and flabbergastation.
He got up slowly. It was the Monday a week after Halloween, and that meant that they had the Charms project to work on next. He stretched and rambled over to his desk, where he picked up his Charms textbook and slipped it into his book bag. Good thing Lily was his partner in Charms, she was, by far, the best at it in the whole year. And also, he liked to be in her company, but he wasn't about to tell her that.
He decided to walk down to the classroom alone, as he had done many times over the past week. People often wondered why James Potter, the most popular guy in school, was seen wandering around alone, but he had his own reasons.
Reasons, that he himself didn't know.
But sometimes, he had gotten dreams… strange dreams, that too. And almost always, the same frightening dream haunted him many nights in the running. Dreams about Bellatrix… and his aunt and uncle, lying faceless in a pool of blood, with Voldemort cackling above their maimed bodies, with Bellatrix smiling evilly beside him… wearing a crown and her eyes red and unseeing. And the most terrifying one of them all… Evie, her hair floating as if in water, her eyes rolled up so that only the whites were visible, an ever-growing black patch spreading across the front of her favorite light pink pajamas, falling, falling, falling… and there was Bellatrix, pushing her… riding a humungous purple stuffed unicorn which looked strangely like Toto, her villainous laugh lost in the screams issuing from all sides…
And that was when he would wake up.
The dreams would keep him up all night for many nights, afraid to look out of the window, fearing that he would see Evie's pale, dead face looming out in the darkness, afraid to look in the mirror, fearing that he would see the figures of his dead aunt and uncle standing where he should have been, afraid to look down the stairwell, fearing that Bellatrix would stride up, cackling evilly.
Maybe that was why he would walk alone? No matter, but during the day, those memories were driven from his mind by the antics of Sirius, by the perfection of Lily, by the horrible burden that the N.E.W.T.s were laying on him. During the day, he was almost cheerful.
He threw open the door to the Charms classroom, and at once, knew he was late. Everyone else was already seated in their places, and Flitwick was already there, apparently narrating a talk of importance to the class. Suddenly, Flitwick stop speaking when he saw James in the doorway, and everyone turned their heads to look at him as well.
"Mr. Potter," Fliwick cleared his throat. "We are late. Again. For the fourth time in the past week,"
"Sorry, Professor," James muttered sheepishly, aware of everyone's eyes on his, but not caring to lock them with his own. Except for Lily, maybe. He stared into her eyes, which were looking at him as if she was trying to figure something out. With great difficulty, he tore his eyes away from her and turned to look at Flitwick instead, who was looking at him in a disapproving manner.
They just continued to look. For several seconds- the class was looking at him, he was looking at Flitwick, and Flitwick was looking back as if trying to figure out what was wrong. He saw Flitwick rub his chin for a second, before beckoning him to sit down in his usual seat.
He walked over slowly, and almost tripped over his own feet as he walked past Sirius' desk. He caught the desk for support, and was aware of Sirius grabbing his arm in instinct, afraid that he would fall.
"Woah! You okay, Prongs?" he heard Sirius ask, and he nodded automatically.
"Yeah!" he said, aware that it was the only day in which he was acting strange. By strange, he meant that he was acting the way he did at night- depressed, afraid. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and stood up carefully.
"You were saying, Professor?" he asked to break the silence, as he sat down beside Lily.
'Oh!" Fliwick snapped out of his trance. "Nothing of great importance, Mr. Potter, you may carry on with your work,"
Suddenly, the class was full of the familiar buzz of talk and laughter, and he smiled at Lily, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes.
"So, where were we last time?" he asked, opening his textbook, but she just continued to stare at him.
"That can wait," she snapped his book shut. "First, you have to tell me- what's wrong with you?"
"Wrong with me? Who said there was anything wrong with me? There's nothing wrong with me," he said a bit too fast and unconvincingly.
"Yeah right," she rolled her eyes.
"There's nothing wrong with me," he repeated a bit more firmly, and she raised her eyebrows a fraction of an inch.
"I don't think I believe you," she said curtly.
"Okay," he replied coolly. He didn't really feel like telling anyone about his dreams just yet- they'd think he was mad or something. Nope, it was his secret to keep, after all, no one had the right to know.
Lily looked slightly surprised at James' effective comeback. She wasn't able to think of anything to say.
"Oh!" she took in a small amount of air in disconcertion. "Okay, then… um… I wonder what happens if you combine the effects of a Drought Charm and a Water-Making one?"
"Can you even do that?" James laughed, glad that Lily had caught on and had decided not to question him further.
They spent the next hour or so paying undivided attention towards their project, trying to come up with never-even-heard-of-before symptoms for a Charm, never straying towards any other topic even for a second. James' dedication towards their work actually made Lily worry about him a bit. He never, ever paid this much deliberation towards their choices, or this much adherence to studies. Especially in Charms, where people took advantage of Flitwick, who always took everything too lightly. She didn't know whether to be proud or apprehensive.
By the end of the class, they had gotten nowhere, as usual. They rarely ever got anywhere, but that was besides that point. This time, Lily was actually aware of the fact that they had gotten nowhere. But she didn't pursue it. In fact, she didn't pursue anything, as they walked out of the classroom in silence, all the way until they separated to be reunited with their friends.
Hestia ran to catch up with Lily, and noticed her looking at James like she was worried or something.
"Hey, Petal! What's wrong?" she asked, putting her arm around her shoulder. Lily's eyes snapped back towards Hestia in haste.
"Nothing," she lied. Hestia raised her eyebrows, but she just grinned it away.
It was a pattern, she thought. A very familiar pattern- asking if you're alright, and then you lie and say 'nothing'. It was all so repetitive, it was annoying. How long would you have to pretend? Why not just come clean, say what's on your mind?
The answer was very simple- so many questions, and yet such an obvious answer. Because you're afraid, because you fear the outcome.
Lily sighed inwardly. Why must everyone show fear? No matter how tough you try to become, you always have a feeling of dread for one thing or another.
There was only one question Lily had for herself.
Why?
The Gryffindor Quidditch team was huddled inside the Room of Requirement, a day before the first Quidditch match. James was giving them a small word of encouragement, before they departed for their dormitories before the nine o' clock curfew.
"Okay! Listen, team," he began, and everyone stopped talking and turned to look at him in anticipation. "I know we haven't beat Slytherin in five years, but this year we have something they haven't,"
"You mean other than seven Nimbus Five Hundreds?" a Chaser asked.
"Um… Yeah," James quirked an eyebrow, but nevertheless continued. "Well, first of all, courtesy of the Room of Requirement, we've got seven Nimbus Five Hundreds. Second of all, the Slytherins haven't got a clue that we're practicing in here, which gives us an advantage."
"How so?" the same Chaser asked.
"Well, look at it in their point of view- we've refused McGonagall's offer of the Quidditch pitch three times a week, so they'll naturally assume that we've given up or something,"
"Yeah, because they've got heads thicker than-" Sirius snorted, but James cut him off.
"Yeah, so they've got an additional three days a week for practice. But who cares? We've spent as much time practicing as they have, maybe even more."
"The element of surprise," Snotnose the Beater said, impressed (for neither James nor Sirius had asked what his real name was yet).
"Yes. If luck plays in our favor, then we'll have tomorrow's game in the bag," James grinned.
"If luck plays in our favor. Honestly?" Sirius muttered under his breath, but no one really heard him.
"Okay! So get a good night's sleep, guys, we've got a match to play tomorrow," James concluded, and everyone started to murmur among themselves in excitement. James got up and had started to make his way towards the door when someone called him back.
"Wait!"
He turned around and noticed that the same Chaser from before had put her hand up and was waiting to ask a question. "How will we explain how we got the Nimbus Five Hundreds?"
"Easy," James winked. "I'll just say I offered,"
"Aaaand, nice shot from Gryffindor Chaser Develyn Bell, goes right through the central hoop, that makes the score 80- 30 for Gryffindor, yeah, that's right, Develyn," the Quidditch commentator, a sixth-year boy from Ravenclaw, cheered as Develyn made the goal and the Slytherin Keeper swore loudly. "Hey, that's not allowed!" he added, as the Slytherin Beater purposely hit an incoming Bludger right into Develyn's stomach.
"Hey! You okay?" James zoomed in from behind her, gripping her shoulder with one of his hands so that she wouldn't fall. Distantly, he heard Madam Hooch's whistle blow loudly, signaling the penalty, courtesy of Slytherin Beater Kane, whom Sirius was giving a piece of his mind at the moment.
"Yeah," Develyn nodded. "But I don't think I'll be able to take the penalty…"
"Come on, you've got to try!" James said desperately. "You'll be able to do it, now go!" he gave her a light shove, and with great difficulty, she accepted the Quaffle from Madam Hooch and bobbed her way over to the hoops. James held his breath a few yards away, hoping that she would make the goal. They were only ahead by fifty points; it was so much better than what they had done last year, but James still had a feeling that Slytherin could win.
"Come on….!" He muttered furiously to himself, hardly daring to tear his eyes away from the hoops as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
Develyn threw the Quaffle as hard as she could, wincing at the wrong moment, considering the fact that her stomach was as sore as hell. Wrong moment was right; no sooner had she thrown the Quaffle that her arm moved automatically towards her stomach. James watched as the Quaffle sped through the air, hardly daring to breathe as he saw it was going to miss by at least a foot…
And then it happened- the Quaffle readjusted its course, as if by magic, passing straight through the center of the right hoop. Gryffindor cheers filled his ears as he tried to take in the situation.
But how? He had seen it heading towards the left of the hoop… and then it just turned. As if by magic, he thought again, shrewdly scanning the stands for what he was looking for.
And then he saw her, her wand out, camouflaged beside her robes, he cheeks flushing as bright as her vibrant red hair, in shame. She was watching him, but as soon as he looked at her, she turned to stare at something else.
Lily Evans? Cheating? James could hardly believe it, but grinned to himself all the same. So what if she broke the rules? No one knew, and that was good enough for him.
"Great shot, Develyn!" he called, tilting his broom forwards so that he could glide towards her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied.
"You sure you can play? I could call in a substitute," he reasoned, but she just shook her head.
"I said I'm fine, now let's go, there's the whistle!" and without another word, Develyn sped off towards the middle of the pitch.
"Okay, so there's Slytherin Chaser Pucey with the Quaffle, and there he goes-" the commentator exclaimed, and James snapped back to reality. Pucey was speeding towards him, Quaffle in hand, a menacing look in his eyes.
"Hold your ground, Prongs!" Sirius yelled as he smacked a Bludger towards Pucey. Pucey totally panicked as the Bludger just missed him by a whisker, and dropped the Quaffle, which was instantly recovered by James as he sped under it.
"Nice Bludger from Gryffindor Beater Sirius Black- yeah, yeah, stop bowing to the crowd and get a hold of yourself, Sirius, there's a Bludger heading towards you- yeah, good reflex, stop rubbing it in!" the commentator said in dispproval as Sirius smirked at the crowd.
"There goes Chaser James Potter with the Quaffle- and one long pass to Chaser Bell, and there she goes… oh crap, she drops it and the Quaffle is recovered by Chaser Pucey, heading towards the Gryffindor goalposts, and…! Come on, save it, you dingus of a goalkeeper…! OKAY, sorry, Professor, won't happen again," he added as McGonagall yelled at him. "And they score," he finished with a groan as Pucey made the goal and the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs all around the stands shook their heads sadly or yelled at the Slytherins, while the Slytherins cheered even louder than the 'Boo's issuing from all around.
After a couple of hours of intense tossing and tackling and diving and whatnot, Gryffindor had a massive lead of 190-100. The crowd went wild, with the exception of the Slytherins, who were just staring and unable to take in that after five years of massive failure, Gryffindor managed to actually take the lead on them. James laughed to himself as he imagined what the Slytherin team must be thinking, about how they got so good when they hadn't even practiced for a few weeks. The Snitch hadn't even been seen yet, much to the dismay of both teams, who were getting extremely tired after hours of flying.
The match dragged on. No matter what the Slytherins tried to do, Gryffindor was always ahead of them by at least fifty points. Snotnose the Beater very nearly fell off his broomstick in fatigue, but Develyn caught hold of him at the last second, so instead he just flopped on to his side like he was dead or something while she tried to hold him in place. That's when James called a time-out, for recovering themselves before any more of his teammates collapsed.
"Okay, team, take a few minutes," he panted as they touched down on the ground, some of them actually letting themselves fall loosely onto the ground, trying to catch their breath. "And guys, remember, the longer we take, the longer the Slytherins take to recover themselves,"
"Merlin, Prongs, take a break already," Sirius said breathlessly, clutching the stitch in his side. "Don't worry, we've got this in the bag, remember?"
"We've got nothing in the bag unless we get the Snitch," James reminded him. "Get it, Jacob?"
Jacob, their Seeker, nodded, his face paling in nervousness. He obviously didn't want to let the team down, and the fact that he actually had a very good chance of doing it, made him panic slightly.
"Hey! Don't panic, okay?" James said. "Just keep a sharp eye out, everything'll be alright. Anyway, have you seen the size of their Seeker? Even if he cites it first, you'll be able to get that Snitch before he even moves his broomstick, no problem,"
"Hey! Don't worry, that Snitch's got our name on it this year. It's ours, okay?" Jacob managed to grin, brushing his dark, sweat-slicked bangs out of his eyes.
James was impressed with Jacob's determination. Apparently, so was everyone else, considering the fact that they all had gotten up, ignoring their paining sides and their heaving chests, broad grins on their faces.
"Everyone, ready?" James asked, and they all nodded. "Okay then, let's go!"
They kicked off into the air, deafening cheers greeting them, giving them more hope. The Slytherins also seemed to be more lighthearted than ever once they took their positions. Something told all of them, every single one of them in the stadium, that there was going to be an all-out battle now. The leisurely played game was going to disappear, replaced with a brutal fight until the Snitch was caught.
And something made everyone sure that it wasn't very far until that moment.
"First to retrieve the Quaffle is Chaser Bell of Gryffindor- who ducks a speedy Bludger- Good job, Develyn! Okay- she passes to Chaser Hinton, who passes it back, and it goes on and on and on… Aaand…..! GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"
The cheers were uproarious; everyone was smelling victory, except the Gryffindor team. They knew that nothing was won without the Snitch…
"Hey! Is that the Snitch?" The commentator asked curiously, and everyone turned to look at Jacob, who had gone into a spectacular dive, closely followed by the Slytherin Seeker. Whispers broke out in the stadium, no one daring to move as the two Seekers came neck-to-neck…!
And then in happened. Jacob pulled up at the last second, sending the other Seeker hurtling towards the ground. It was a false alarm. The entire stadium groaned. But then Jacob went off in the totally opposite direction, assured that the other Seeker wouldn't be able to pull himself off the ground in time.
It all happened in the space of a few seconds; No one even knew what happened until Jacob punched his hand in the air victoriously, the struggling Snitch clutched tight in his hand.
There was instant uproar. Who knew, after hours and hours, the Snitch would be caught in just a few seconds? But none of that mattered; the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws all came spilling out of the stands, ready to hoist the entire team up in the air, while the Slytherins just shook their heads dejectedly. James was instantly enclosed in a wall of hugs, thumps on the back, a few people giving him congratulations and such.
He had never felt such happiness in his entire life, as a Gryffindor sixth year managed to hoist him on his shoulders, his cheers lost in the amount of noise issuing from all sides.
"Hey, great game, guys!" Remus and Peter came running towards them, hugging each one of them in turn. James and Sirius grinned broadly. It was late afternoon; the match had gone straight through lunchtime, and everyone was in the Great Hall, having a late lunch. They were near their favorite beech tree, all alone on the grounds, celebrating their victory.
"Thanks," James grinned.
"Aw, shucks," Sirius blushed and waved his hand in the air in a very childish manner.
"So anyway! I've got some good news," Remus cleared his throat.
"What is it?" James asked.
"See, me and Remus talked to McGonagall some time ago," Peter explained.
"She was absolutely splitting in joy; you'd want to have been there, Sirius,"
"Yeah! And so then, we asked her whether we could have a party of sorts,"
"And guess what? She said yes!"
"Yep, she said she had already talked to Dumbledore, who said it was okay as long as the Slytherins didn't know about it,"
"Really?" James widened his eyes.
"But there's a catch," Peter cleared his throat.
"Yeah. She said that the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws have to be invited too,"
"WHAT?" James and Sirius said together.
"She said that they deserved to celebrate too, because Slytherin had beat them five years in the running as well," Peter said.
"She said that she and a few selected students were going to organize a big party in the Great Hall tomorrow night, and that everyone should take care that the Slytherins don't know anything about it,"
"Hey, that's not a problem," James smiled. "Leave it to me and Padfoot- we'll just lock them in their common room till the party's over," Remus looked at him in disapproval, but he just shrugged.
"Yeah," Sirius winked at James.
"Okay. But you get what we mean by 'party', right?" Remus asked curiously.
"Um… yeah?" James asked uncertainly.
"Don't we have one every year?" Sirius asked.
"No, but this one is like a proper party- like you know, dancing and-"
"DANCING?" James and Sirius asked in unison.
"You mean we have to bring a date or something?" James gulped.
"Hey, you know McGonagall," Peter shrugged.
"Don't worry, guys, this one's going to be a lot better than our usual ones," Remus assured them, but James still felt a sick feeling inside his stomach.
Darn! James thought furiously, repeating the word a million times until it didn't make sense anymore.
He walked into the Heads' dorm an hour later, finding Lily sitting on the sofa rereading her Herbology book. She groaned when he entered.
"Come on, I just opened this!" she slammed the book down as hard as she could on the sofa, folding her arms grumpily.
"No, it's okay- you can read, I'm just going to take a shower," he dropped his broomstick on the ground near the door, heading upstairs to grab his clothes.
"Really?" she asked, surprised. "So you're not going to talk to me or steal my stuff or anything?"
"Nope, just a shower," he yelled from his bedroom, emerging back on the landing as he walked down the steps slowly.
"Okay, then," she said, grabbing her book and trying to find the page where she left off. He walked over to the bathroom, threw his clothes across onto the hanger, shut the door and walked over to the enormous tub in the middle of it, just like the Prefects' bathroom.
He turned almost all the faucets on and waited for the tub to fill up. Slowly, he removed his Quidditch robes, grabbed one of the fluffy towels in the corner, and jumped into the sea of bubbles, almost sighing in soothingness.
That's when, some way away, some air bubbles came up on the surface, almost invisible because of the already rippling water.
"AAAH!" James yelled as Myrtle's head popped out over the.
"Hey! You okay?" he heard Lily call him from the other side of the door.
"Yeah, f-fine!" he replied as Myrtle glided a bit closer.
"You didn't sound so fine when you screamed,' Lily reasoned.
" No, I just saw a, um… lizard?" he heard Lily's muffled snort echo around the bathroom. Then there was silence as he stared at Myrtle and Myrtle stared back, as the decreasing sounds of Lily's footsteps vanished into nothingness.
"What the hell, Myrtle!" he whispered furiously. Myrtle just sniffed.
"No one… likes to see me… not even you, James Potter!" she sniffled noisily, suddenly bursting into tears.
"Whoa..! Hey!" his eyes darted furiously towards the door, as if expecting Lily to come back, inquiring why he was crying so much. "Shut up!" he tried to calm her down. She just bawled even louder. "No-don't- I like you, okay, Myrtle?" suddenly she stopped crying.
"You do?" she asked hopefully.
"Um, yes," he shuddered as Myrtle's shoulder grazed his own and he felt that ripple of coldness spread throughout his body.
"So you'll ask me to the dance, then?" she asked, and he choked.
"I, er- I don't know," he managed to say as he coughed from the soapy water that had managed to go down his windpipe. "I'll let you know, okay?"
"Really?" she asked. James didn't really feel like triggering her wails again, so he just played along.
"Sure! Just… could you go away, please?" he pleaded, and watched as her face contorted into sadness, threatening to break into sobs.
"I thought… you liked my company!" she sniffled, and he groaned inwardly. How much would it take to just get rid of her?
"Myrtle! I'm- sort of busy right now, okay?" he moved slightly away from her.
"Oh, I get it," she sobbed. "Goodbye!" and with that, she whipped around, slapping him in the face with her legs, probably on purpose (well, not exactly slapped, her legs just went right through his head, which felt even worse than being slapped) and disappeared down the drain. James sighed with relief. Finally, she was gone.
And then that sick feeling returned, which made him wish that Myrtle hadn't gone. A bit. What was he going to do? You have to find yourself a date, he told himself, groaning inwardly. But it just wouldn't feel right to go with anyone other than Lily Evans.
"Were you crying in there?" Lily asked, amused, as James walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.
"No," he said. "But I'm not going to tell you what happened, it's just too bizarre," he added, knowing that if he told Lily about Myrtle she would probably not understand it. She didn't know who Myrtle was, after all, the girls' bathroom was always closed.
"Okay," she laughed a bit, turning back to her Transfiguration book. "Anyway, great game," she congratulated him. "Especially since you didn't practice at all,"
"Yeah, we didn't," he went red in the face, and Lily narrowed her eyes.
"You did practice, didn't you?" she asked. "In the Room of Requirement?"
"Maybe," he said a bit too innocently. She snorted.
"Genius," she muttered.
"So, speaking of the match…" he sat down next to her. "It was you, right? You made that Quaffle go into to hoop?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," this time, she went red in the face as James looked at her triumphantly.
"Oh?" he raised his eyebrows. "Tell you what- when Kane hit that Bludger at Develyn, and she took the penalty, and she was all wobbly on her broomstick, and the Quaffle was going to miss by at least a foot, it magically altered its path. You sure you hadn't got anything to do with that?"
"Maybe," she mimicked him, and he laughed.
"Sure," he said sarcastically. They sat in silence for a few seconds. "So, you heard about the party?"
"Yep, McGonagall told everyone," she said. "But I wonder how we're going to do it, keeping the Slytherins away and everything…"
James' stomach dropped in nervousness. He was numb all over. Should he ask her? Should he not? He would have to decide really fast, but it wasn't easy. How could he know what to do, in possibly only ten seconds?
Sure, he could just not ask her, and risk her going with someone else. Or he could ask her, and she could either say yes or no. Just two words, each a knife in his stomach. Should he risk it? Their newfound friendship? He could, or he could not. Two choices. Only two. Then why was it so hard?
"Don't worry about that," he said, and she looked at him as if she expected him to have something to do with it. "Just… who are you planning to go with? Remus said that McGonagall wants us to take someone, for the dance."
"Oh, right, I haven't given that much thought." She said a bit too casually. She was actually trying to mask that feeling of numbness inside her. Was he going where she thought he was going with this? In some weird way, she actually hoped that he would ask her, but in another, she hoped against hope that he wouldn't.
"I haven't, much, either…" he said.
"I thought you would,"
"What?"
"You know, with all those girls wanting to go with you and stuff, you might want to pick,"
"Actually, I kind of go for the hard-to-get kinds," he said without thinking. He tried to hide the blush that was creeping up his face by turning his head away from her, but he couldn't do anything now. He had already said it.
Lily was glad that he had turned away, mainly because she was blushing too. She waited until the redness had disappeared, before she said, "Like?"
"I don't know, people like you, I guess," he replied, turning back to face her. A long silence passed between them, with only staring and blushing and staring and blushing.
"Are you- Are you asking me?" she asked finally.
"I don't know, am I?"
"I think you are,"
"Well then, maybe I am," he said, pleased that she hadn't smacked him or yelled at him, but was just sitting there, an enormous conflict going on within her. He could tell.
"I- I-" she stuttered. She just looked at him, and felt like running away. So that she couldn't say yes, and she couldn't say no. But something told her that she wasn't ready yet, for this. She thought back to the past six years, and it felt funny. Wanting to say yes, after so much time of her hatred for him. Somehow, it didn't feel right.
Before she could burst into tears, she got up and ran for the door. No! She wouldn't do this to him, or herself. She slammed the door behind her, and started to cry right on the spot. She was reduced to something so pitiful, but not in a good way. Why did she run? She shouldn't have. But then what would she have said? Yes or no? Neither, and she knew it. But somehow she felt like she had just broken something that could never be fixed. Ever.
She didn't even notice Amos Diggory walk up to her. Didn't notice when he sat down next to her and comforted her. To her, he was nothing. He meant nothing.
And she didn't even notice when he asked her to the dance.
Didn't even notice when she said yes.
"YOU SAID YES TO AMOS DIGGORY?" Hestia yelled furiously, when both of them were out of earshot of everyone else, of the grounds.
She hadn't seen James, ever since she had run. She didn't know what to say to him. He would probably hate her. He would probably be so shocked and miserable that she didn't want to ruin it for him.
"I wasn't thinking, Hest!" she groaned. She could vaguely remember saying it, vaguely remember him… kissing her? Aw, YUCK! She grimaced as she tried to forget it.
"Why, Lily? You hate him!" Hestia said incredulously.
"I do, but… James had just asked me… and I didn't know what to say, so I ran… and then poof! He was just there, and I was really sad, so I said yes! I guess," she added, unsure of the reason of exactly why she said yes.
"James asked you?" Hestia asked. "Merlin, Lily, why didn't you go with him? It would have been so much better, and you know it!"
"Yeah, now that I think of it…" she replied. "It's just… I was shocked, more than anything, you know? And I didn't know what to say, so I just… ran."
"Aw, Lily, you really have made a mess of things…" Hestia buried her face in her hands.
"What do you think I should do?" she asked, her eyes heating up with tears.
"Lily, don't cry!" Hestia pulled her into a hug. "It's not that bad. Just… go with Diggory, and then talk to James afterwards. I'm sure he'll get it."
"No," Lily sobbed into Hestia's shoulder. "He won't. He'll h-hate me. I know it."
"He's never hated you," Hestia reminded her. "Ever. He might act like it, but trust me, he's not going to hate you,"
That's when it started to rain. Really, really hard. Lily's tears were lost it the rainwater that enveloped her, still hanging on to Hestia, not planning to let go anytime soon. They just stood there in the rain together, not saying a word, taking it all in. The weather really matched Lily's feelings at the moment- dark, gloomy, afraid. He was as scared as hell. She didn't know what to expect, but knew it wasn't going to be good.
But whatever, right? Sooner or later, she would have to talk to him. And maybe then, she would be ready.
Why did it have to be so hard?
Hestia had let Lily one of her red dresses to wear. She didn't really want to impress Amos Diggory, so she didn't give much effort in dressing herself up.
It was Sunday evening, an hour before the party, and she was in her bedroom. She hadn't spoken to James even once since yesterday, but caught momentary glimpses of him, looking confused and depressed.
She held the fancy, red dress up to her in front of the mirror, trying not to cry, as she had done for the past twenty-four hours.
It didn't take her long to change and put her makeup on, but she lingered inside her bedroom for a long time, afraid to go downstairs. But she looked at her watch, and sighed. She would have to face it, sooner or later. So why not just get it over with now?
She walked down the steps slowly, closing her eyes momentarily, bracing herself.
He was sitting there, on the couch, with a faraway look in his eyes. He looked at her as she came down the staircase, trying not to gasp at how beautiful she looked.
He wasn't dressed at all, obviously not planning to go to the party. Lily fought her tears; what had she done?
"You're going with Amos Diggory, right?" James choked, wincing as he said the name. She nodded. "Oh well, you look great. Have fun, anyway." And then, in a second, he was gone- up the spiral staircase leading to his bedroom. Lily's voice caught in her throat. She wanted to say something, but couldn't think of what.
She practically ran out of the room, realizing she was late. Amos Diggory was waiting for her in the Entrance Hall, a winning look in his eyes. Looking at him just made Lily want to puke. Apparently, he had bragged about his success to anyone who would listen, so practically everyone thought that Lily Evans was dating Amos Diggory. Lily just ignored all the stares as she excepted his hand, walking into the Great Hall alongside him and his deep blue dress robes.
The Great Hall truly looked wondrous; there was a dancefloor, dozens of circular tables, colorful lights, exactly what Lily had imagined the Yule Ball to look like.
"Want to dance?" he asked, but she just didn't say anything.
"I just… need a drink. I'll catch you later," she turned her back on him and walked over to the table where numerous butterbeers and firewhiskeys were kept. She slowly sipped at a butterbeer, watching Sirius and Hestia dancing, with broad grins and a red flush on their faces, having a great time. She wondered what it would have been like if she came here with James. They would have been on the dancefloor too, probably… beside Hestia and Sirius… talking, laughing, joking.
She couldn't bear to think about it any longer. She knew she had made a mistake, and that it was too late to correct it. Suddenly, the music meant nothing to her, the lights were invisible, all that remained in her sight was James, sitting alone in the Heads' dorm probably even more miserable than she was.
She chucked her empty butterbeer can aside, and actually ran out of the Great Hall. She couldn't take it anymore, she had to leave this place full of cheery, normal people. She had to go. Who cared about Diggory? Let him be there, looking for her all night. He didn't matter to her.
She threw open the Heads' dorm, and he was exactly where he had been before, on the sofa, except this time he had his head in his hands. He must have heard the creak of the door, thought, because just as she stepped inside, his head snapped towards her. She could see the surprise on his face.
"Why aren't you at the party?" he stood up, looking worried once he sighted her tear-stained face.
Lily couldn't help but cry. She had hurt him, and yet here he was, caring for her. Hestia was right. He had never hated her, and never would. She ran across the room and threw herself in his arms.
"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear as she cried on his shoulder.
"It's okay," he whispered back, embracing her tightly. Her eyes closed automatically. It was like in a dream, being there with him. Being in his caring air.
"I don't deserve the okay," she replied, her voice breaking in spots, shamefully. James didn't say anything, just kept on hugging her back.
It was déjà vu all over again… he was there, hugging her, and she was crying, all throughout the night. Except, this time, it actually meant something to her. This time, it wasn't just meanless crying and hugging. It was full of something.
She just didn't know what it was yet.
I'm taking a few week break now... so this is the last chapter I'm going to be updating for a while. I'll try to update near the end of May, maybe even before. Hope you keep in touch anyway! :)